#and that is one of the prime reasons the relationship wouldn't work

[mia-fey-needs-a-drink]

It's so annoying that to so much of the fandom Mia is just "boobs" or "girlboss", she's got so much more going on:

-She really struggles to remember people's names which often causes people to doubt her engagement despite genuinely caring and engaging with their situation and the case (she's just like me fr I really struggle with names (for probably autism reasons) and people really don't like that).

-She has a tendency to just not talk to people about things, especially about herself or her life. depending on when you think Mia actually started mentoring Phoenix he was a significant part of her life for at least a year and probably since 3-1, yet he only meets Maya and learns about spirit channeling after Mia dies, she never mentioned Lana either, or Diego, or DL-6, and this isn't just to Phoenix, she never told Maya about Diego either and it's vague how much Lana actually knows about her, hell it's vague how much Diego actually knew about her, maybe Grossberg only told him about DL6 and the Fey clan after he wakes up from his coma. Ultimately she isolated herself from everyone in her life to some extent and it's kinda part of how she died, no-one knew the danger she was in and she didn't want people to know.

-Her ineptitude with technology. Phoenix and Maya also have this, but I feel like Mia's and Maya's are so linked to their background in the fey clan, they were raised in a society and culture where they didn't have access to these things and integrating into broader society comes with difficulties.

-Her entire life and career is just things repeatedly going wrong and her being fucked over: DL-6, her disaster of a first trial, Diego being poisoned and just as she's about to try and finally put Redd White behind bars he finds out and kills her. She had shit hand after shit hand and was basically doomed from the start, but yet she persisted and she fought for what she believed and for the people she cared about and to make the world a better place, and everything good that Phoenix manages to do throughout PWT is thanks to Mia and everything she worked for, she laid the foundations for a better world for the ones she loved that she wouldn't get to live in and yet I think if she knew that it would all end this way from the start she'd do it all over again. I think a little part of me thinks that some part of her hoped White would kill her so there was something definitive to pin him with (which comes with some darker implications for how well she was dealing with life).

-Mia has such an interesting relationship to the legal system and her own sense of justice. So much of her experience with the law is with it failing her, repeatedly. DL-6 is a disaster that stripped her mother from her, her first trial ends in the clearly guilty party that murdered her client getting away with it, her boyfriend's murder goes unsolved from the same murderer who she dedicates the next 8 months to taking down, and then there's 1-2, her own murder trial. Mia has again worked for years to try and get this man convicted, the deeply corrupt legal system making it a near insurmountable task, then in the last stretch he murders her. The police immediately just try to brush it under the rug, blame her sister and get the trial over with. Grossberg is too afraid of White to defend Maya and Edgeworth is a slimy piece of shit the entire trial. When Phoenix finally finds the clearly guilty White, he simply makes a few calls and her understudy is the prime suspect. White goes up on the stand and just repeatedly comes up with any old blatant nonsense and excuses and no matter how many times and how much work goes into Wright picking apart every mistruth and detail and how many pieces of evidence he shows nothing will convict White, the court is completely corrupt, you'll never be able to defeat him within the system. So, what happens? Mia and Phoenix have to work outside the established rules, even working outside the rules of death itself. White is only defeated after Mia straight up blackmails him into confessing, and yet this is more justice than working within the law ever would allow them. Mia also only gets Dahlia through pushing the law to it's breaking point, she was a step away from being disbarred. I feel like it's easy to see her as a strong believer in the law but if you really look at it, to her, the law is not sacred or worthy of much reverence, if something is unjust, to hell if it's legal, she will try and reach justice no matter what.

-Look I may be projecting my woke onto the game a little bit but I can't help but feel the routine misogyny Mia faces in both the cases we play as her in T&T is more than just "a product of it's time" and more showing misogyny as an extension of the system being rigged against her.

Loooong post but there's so much going on with Mia.

[zaynesdesimc]

Magic

Moon Boys x reader<3

summary: you were married to Jake and after the events of moonknight, the boys get to know of jake and of you. Steven adores you but Marc just sees you as a friend. Right?

A/N: okay the timeline is a bit wonky but here's what i thought while writing the fic. Jake dated you for a year and a half before putting a ring on it. And you've been married for three years. You met Steven and Marc a year ago and have been dating Steven for eight months. Marc became friends with you a month after meeting you. please comment and reblog if you liked it!

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort

@jake-g-lockley

Marc was a lot of things. Pig-headed, stubborn, horrible at communication, a fighter. But he wasn't arrogant He could admit it when he didn't know something.

But right now he knew one thing and one thing only, that Jake was a prime idiot.

Marc stayed in the background when Jake was fronting around you, most of the time. Not always, of course. He wasn't a perv and one to to intrude between a husband and a wife. But he knew you. So did Steven, and you knew them.

He'd considered you his friend. Maybe one of his best, just months after meeting you. You and him shared many a night after Jake's missions talking and watching movies, when your husband was knocked out. You made him fall in love with chai, something that knocked Steven's socks off and he'd taught you the basics of baseball so you weren't clueless when you watched baseball with him.

It wasn't always so nice.

"You're married?!"

"Yeah, what's your problem with that?" Jake had become defensive, he wouldn't let Marc or Steven breathe a single ill word towards you.

"No, it's no problem at all, pal." Marc seethed, outraged, "except for the fact that I was married to Layla! God what if she almost say you when we were married? No wonder it ended!"

"Fuck off, man. You know full well why your marriage didn't work out with Layla. And unlike her, I told my lady fucking everything. She knows everything, from the cave to the sarcophagus. So she knew what to do and what to be careful of, including you. So don't blame my marriage for the reason yours didn't work out."

This was when Steven had interjected, he was unsurprisingly on Jake's side.

"He's right, Marc. If his wife knows everything then you can't blame him, and it's honestly rather mean and unfair of you to be angry at someone you haven't even met."

It took a few hours for Marc to calm down, and actually, apologise to Jake.

Hesitantly, Jake offered, "Y'know, if you want you can meet her. She practically knows everything about you and uh, Steven's most probably seen her around. She goes to the museum every week."

"Wait a minute! That lady with the Van Gogh tote bag?"

"Yup."

"Oh wow! She's really sweet, and beautiful! Hell, mate. You scored."

Jake had to smile at that, he knew he scored with you. For the longest time he felt like you were too good for him and that someone as kind, clever, intelligent and beautiful as you shouldn't have had to settle for someone like him. But you'd kiss away every ill thought he had about himself and reassure him. Communication was a very, very vital and important part of the relationship and you had helped him learn that it wasn't selfish to voice his thoughts. Especially because he put everyone's needs before his for so long.

"I know, man."

Steven had readily agreed to front and meet you, and Marc was okay with being co-conscious during the interaction as well. So on one fine day, Jake had brought them to the house he considered his home. He worked to contribute to it's rent, and buy things for it and for you. It was home, after all. You were his home.

Marc didn't know what to expect but when Jake had stepped in and hung his jacket on the stand and taken his shoes off, footsteps could be heard running from the main bedroom and he saw you running straight into Jake's arms. Jake laughed wildly, picking you up and twirling you around, much to your delight as you kissed the life out of him.

When he put you down, he could get a clear glimpse of you. Your hair was messy and your t-shirt was rumpled. And when he saw you smile he knew why Jake had fallen in love with you. Why Steven thought you were beautiful and sweet. Verything about you screamed, home.

Your greeting to Jake threw both the boys off, "Who the fuck are you?"

Jake smirked, "The fuck you mean, ma?"

"I mean, who." you poked him once, "are." twice, "you?" thrice and Jake started giggling. Fucking giggling like some little schoolgirl. You laughed too, and hugged him tight.

"Hey, baby." he kissed your forehead and you smiled.

"Hi." you kissed his nose.

"I have two guys who'd like to meet you."he raised his eyebrows.

Your jaw dropped a little, "For real? Wait, you're being serious, you're not screwing with me?"

"Why would I screw with you, when I could just screw you?"

The men in his head and you all let out a simultaneous groan.

Steven met you first, and it went swell, you'd both bonded over history and literature. And a love for Taylor Swift. But that was a secret. You liked him a lot and he positively adored you.

Marc, on the other hand, was much more closed off, he'd be polite, but he'd be curt as well. A combination you didn't know was possible.

After a few weeks of trying to bond with him, resulting in almost a small meltdown. It had taken Jake being knocked out after a mission and being too tired to eat to actually get him to talk to you over a meal.

It was one of the best things he'd eaten in his goddamn life and the groan he'd let out after the first bite brought a laugh out of you.

So yes, Marc would consider you one of his best friends. Steven and you had started going out with each other a few months ago and it was going so well.

But not Marc.

Because he didn't like you like that.

Of course not, you were his friend.

You were his friend who made him laugh because you had the same dark sense of humour. You hugged him when he needed one but was too uptight to ask you. You, who googled the Cubs and learnt everything you could about them just so you could talk to him as well, the way you talked to Steven about Jane Austen and the Indus Valley.

He didn't know when it became something more to him.

And he didn't see how you'd look him at him when he laughed, or when he was focused on the TV, or when he made you tea the way you liked it, Jake had taught him how to do that.

No, to him, you were just his best friend.

And you were currently crying your eyes out because Jake and you had gotten into a huge fight. He'd missed your anniversary because of a mission and he was working with Hathor's avatar. He failed to mention the part where he was forced to pretend they were a thing to prevent being caught and you'd caught him smelling of her perfume and gotten rightfully furious.

Not because of her, but because he didn't tell you that it had been happening for a few days. That the week he'd spent away from you, he'd had to pretend he was someone else's and he was too scared to tell you. That's why you were mad, because you thought he didn't trust you.

You'd raised your voice as he turned his back on you and he turned around, face contorted in rage. Steven tried calming him down as he stalked over to you. You stood your ground, Jake would never lay a hand on you. You knew that. But it was what he said, that broke you.

"You're being a fucking nuisance. Instead of trying to understand, you're being more of a burden by finding shit to get mad at. Grow the fuck up."

That prime ass had the audacity to call you a burden. A nuisance.

And then he had the fucking nerve to leave and complete his mission and give control to Marc. Steven had chewed the fuck out of him and Marc would have loved to as well, but he needed to see you. See if you were okay.

As soon as he stepped in, he saw you on the sofa, rapidly wiping your tears away. You sagged again when you knew it was him. Somehow you always knew.

He furrowed his eyebrows at your disheveled state. Your eyes were swollen and wet with tears and you were breathing very heavily and in quick spurts.

"What do you need?" Marc asked you, sitting down beside you.

"C-can I have" you coughed, "a hug, Marc?" you said in a small voice, looking away.

Marc immediately moved to hug you close. Shushing you when you began to cry again.

What hurt was that he knew, and Jake knew, and Steven knew that you hated being a burden or an inconvenience to anyone. And today, the one man you trusted the most in this world had made you feel like that. And he couldn't even apologize.

'Jake you fucking idiot.' he rocked you a little, 'you better come out and fix this. she may be our friend but this is because of you, fix this.'

Jake remained silent in the reflection of the mirror next to the door. He looked wrecked at seeing you sob, and tears were falling down his own eyes.

'Mate.' Steven spoke up, he sounded mad, 'You made our girl cry. Stop being a fucking coward and fix this!'

When he was met with silence, Steven seethed, 'Marc, gimme the body.'

You knew exactly when it was Steven hugging you, and you kissed his cheek and breathed him in.

"Oh, love." he tried to comfort you, "I'm sorry. You're not a burden, I promise you." he kissed your forehead.

"I know that, Steven. I know I'm not a burden to you. I'm scared I'm becoming one to him. He doesn't even want to look at me!" you sniffed.

Steven glared at Jake in the mirror, who was wiping away his own tears.

Steven and Marc knew why Jake was so worked up. They knew that whoever Jake and Hathor's avatar was after called their bluff. They knew that those people had found the woman's partner and Jake was terrified for you and he couldn't even tell you because he never, ever wanted to be the reason for any feeling you had that wasn't bliss, happiness, content, or pleasure. And because he was sure he could find those assholes and beat the living shit out of them for even thinking of harming you.

But it wasn't their place to tell you, that much was apparent. Jake dug his grave, and then jumped into it. He had to crawl out of it on his own now.

"I just want to be someone he's happy to be with." you whisper and that's when Jake straightened up, heartbroken.

"Give me the body, hermano."

"All yours."

Only Jake scrunched the back of your shirts when he hugged you and you moved to hug him tightly as he whispered apologies in your ear.

"Baby, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry I made you feel like you were a burden and that I was anything but fucking delighted to be with you." he kissed your nose and then told you everything. Looking away because he was scared.

"I didn't tell you at first because I didn't want to just say that I had to pretend I was dating someone else and then fuck off for a week. I made a mistake in assuming that'd you get mad and it's because if I was in your place, I would be. But you're stronger than me, tesoro, and I failed to see that and I'm so sorry."

"Baby, I forgive you." you replied and he breathed out a sigh of relief, "But please, don't keep stuff like this in, okay? You can trust me, you know that."

He nodded fiercely and then he kissed you. Noses nudging and lips parting as he breathed you in like you were his lifeline, and he yours. He cupped your face and held you tight against him and when he pulled away you smiled at him, your eyes shining.

Steven fronted again with a little smile and you kissed him lovingly with a whispered 'i love you'. He just winked at you and kissed the back of your hand and then your forehead again before Jake took back control and carried you to the bed, kissing you deeply all the way.

----

Marc was fine, no he just needed a glass of water. He'd carefully rolled off the bed, thankful that he was at least wearing sweatpants and padded to the kitchen.

He should have known that you were a light sleeper.

"Marc." you began, your voice raspy.

He hummed in reply and held out his glass to you. You accepted it and drank your fill, giving it back to him.

After a few more moments of silence, you spoke up, "I thanked Steven for comforting me. But I didn't thank you." you cleared your throat, "Thank you, Marc." you said, sincerely, "You're one of my best friends."

Marc smiled at you. Actually smiled. And you smiled back and kept going, "And Jake and Steven know this and are okay with it so I-"

"You don't have to thank me, honey." he patted your shoulder, trying to conceal his tears as he looked away because god he was dumb. Dumb enough to realize now, that he loved you, "I'm glad I'm your friend."

To him, you were everything. You were sunrays and moonbeams and everything that he believed was magical as a boy. Everything he stopped believing in as he grew up. The first time you made him laugh and joined him he felt sure that magic existed after all, because what else could you be?

He tried walking past you but you held his hand and he froze, tears streaming down his cheeks.

You walked over to him and held his face in your hands. His eyes shut as you wipe away his tears. And he whimpered as you kissed his forehead.

"Marc. Open your eyes and look at me." you said softly.

He was terrified. That you'd seen past his mask and were going to let him down gently. Because to you, what could he be? Certainly nothing more than a friend.

"Sweetheart. Please."

When his eyes finally opened, they met yours.

"Marc. I fucking love you." you confessed and he let out a sob. Pulling you into a tight hug.

"I love you. God I love you so much, Sweetheart." he says into your hair, kissing all over your face, but not your lips.

"Can I kiss you?" you asked him, looking at him with those beautiful eyes of yours.

He nods and your hands travel to his locks and pull them lightly as you bring your lips to his own. Humming sweetly as he wraps his arm around you and licks into you.

Yes, he reasons yet again as you hold his face in your hands and smile at him, magic does exist. And it's in his arms. He loves it and so do the men in his head who cheer for him, albeit sleepily, looking at you lovingly.

And they'd never let you go.

[chilling-seavey]

She Never Did (gr63)

↳ A/N I just had to post more sub!George because...well...have you seen this man? Who wouldn't want to give him what he deserves and peg him until he's crying with pleasure <3

↳ Summary: George is only missing one thing in his relationship. That one thing is what only you can give to him.

↳ Pairings: George Russell x Fem!Reader (NO use of y/n)

↳ Word Count: 19.2k

↳ Warnings: 18+, smut, adultery, George has an unnamed girlfriend and there is a lot of negative talk about their sex life throughout, fem!dom and sub!George, pegging, use of toys (anal beads, cockring, prostate vibrator, strap), oral sex (m and f receiving), sucking off a dildo and forced deepthroating, rimming, degradation (names like 'slut', 'whore', 'pathetic' etc.), brief mommy kink (only used once or twice), lots of lube, watching in a mirror, using cum as lube, minor CBT (cock and ball torture), (mis)use of a safeword, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, begging, choking, restraining with hands, spanking, slapping, hair pulling, finger sucking, nipple play, overstimulation, unprotected sex, aftercare, angst.

Are you busy? Can I come over?

It was always how it started, those two questions lighting up your phone screen, and they often appeared coincidentally right when you were thinking about him. That wasn’t odd, however, as there weren’t many minutes in the day where you weren’t thinking about him.

You lifted your phone from your desk to reply to George’s text message without need for any second thought, accepting him over and his promise to be there within the hour.

You knew why he wanted to come over—it was really the only reason he had since he was usually preoccupied with his girlfriend or traveling all around the world for races—but his dirty little secret was safe with you. It was thrilling, in a sense, to go behind everyone's backs like that but you were too head over heels for George to think logically and he was too unfulfilled in his relationship—in a way that was a bit too taboo to admit to others—to think of stopping what had already been started. You both kept quiet, he got what he wanted, and you got that shot of dopamine from giving him exactly that. You would kill to please him and when he turned to you as the only person to do so successfully? Who were you to deny him that?

In preparation for his impending arrival, you tidied up your apartment just enough to look presentable: putting away the dishes from the sink into the dishwasher and tidying up your desk that was scattered with papers and work, finally finishing with a re-making of your bed and a dusting to your surfaces. He certainly wasn’t coming over to analyze the cleanliness of your apartment but a small sliver of you wanted to aim to impress him; even if he was clueless to it. 

No more than thirty minutes later, your phone rang and you didn’t even have to look at the ID to know it was the buzzer from the lobby. When you answered it, George’s muffled voice through the cheaply made building speaker system crackled through, 

“Hey, it’s me.”

“Come on up.” 

You unlocked the lobby door from your keypad to let him in. 

It only took him a minute to take the elevator up to your floor and soon he was knocking at your suite door. You had almost been waiting in your foyer for him so his hand had barely dropped from the knock by the time you yanked open the door to reveal him on the other side. He was wearing black jeans and his favourite brown boots under a lined jacket with the hood pulled up over his head as if keeping a lazy disguise for the trek between the parking garage and your front door. 

“Hey.” you tried not to grin too widely as you stepped aside, “Come on in.”

It was a familiar occurrence to George so he was perfectly comfortable coming in and taking off his shoes at the door: a habit that you insisted he take up when visiting you. A few times, his girlfriend had pointed out him taking off his shoes when entering his own home—a prime example of how often he was coming to see you—and he had to pass it off with some blasé excuse each time. 

You took his jacket from him to hang it up in the front closet, leaving him in only a linen shirt tucked into his jeans as he took a few casual paces farther into your apartment as you did so. His eyes lingered on your crowded yet organized desk, littered with your notebooks and dual monitors under a large wall calendar scribed with important dates, meetings, deadlines, and friend’s birthdays. His eyes lingered on February 14th labeled ‘Singles Day’ in pink ink in your gentle penmanship, right beside February 15th labeled ‘George’s Birthday’.

“Do you want a drink or anything?”

Your voice startled him out of his slight distractedness and he glanced back at you as if half forgetting you were there, answering smoothly, “Sure. Whatever you’re having.”

He helped himself to the living room of your small apartment as you opened the fridge to serve yourself and your guest and he sat himself on the small two-seater couch. Space was limited so it was the best you could have. George leaned back and watched you silently as you set two glasses on the kitchen island and started each with a single shot of peach liqueur and then filled them the rest of the way with orange juice. His leg bounced restlessly, socked foot tapping dully against the wood floor. 

The silence wasn’t unusual as you got settled into your odd routine but it wasn’t uncomfortable, just full of an indescribable tension that had your heart racing in your chest. You took the drinks to the living room only a few short steps away and George reached to take one glass from you with whispered thanks. You sat beside him on the modest couch. 

“So,” you started, both of you pausing to take a sip of your drinks before you continued, “What were you up to today?”

It always started this way. The casual catch-up and discussion before the action. 

George sighed as he stared into his glass, lips pursed in brief though before he shared like it was a casual recounting of the morning news, “Not much. I woke up with a boner…didn’t bother telling her though because, you know, what’s the point. Ended up having a wank in the shower. Then she left to get her nails done and I tried to work but I was just staring at my laptop so…thought I’d message you.”

“So she’s gone for the day?”

“Mhm.” George said through his next drink before swallowing and then answering, “Getting her nails done or something and then going shopping, I guess. I just texted her saying I was going for a hike.”

“Shopping.” you repeated with a dull nod before countering, “Nothing of sustenance?” 

George shot you a half-amused side eyed glance, “Sustenance like what?”

“I dunno.” you shrugged innocently, “A job?”

“Not everyone can have two jobs, a degree, a second degree in progress, and multiple promising hobbies on the go at once.” George teased. 

“Hey,” you tisked, “why not? Gives a woman purpose in life. But, I guess shopping is fun too.”

You both shared little smiles through your next sips of your mixed drinks. 

You pried a little more, “How’s it been going with her?” 

George shrugged, “It’s going fine.”

You waited to let him continue at his own pace. 

He took another drink before relaxing back on the couch again, his body angled towards you habitually, “You know how it’s going. It’s the usual: really nice generally but kinda boring in bed.”

“Mhm.” you encouraged him on, leaning forward to set your glass on a coaster on the coffee table so you could give him your full attention. 

“I’ve been putting in more hours on the sim this last week or so…flying out to Brackley more often to visit the factory. She brought it up to me that I’ve been distancing myself from her and I didn’t realize it at first but maybe that’s true.”

You ignored the ache in your chest over the discussion of his girlfriend and their sex life, “Why’s that?”

George’s finger traced the rim of his glass and he sucked on his teeth for a second, trying to hide his bashful little smile over his confession, “Because she won’t give me what I want. And I’m tired of doing all the work all the time.”

“She’s really stupid for that.” you replied, earning his eyes to raise to look at you as you explained, “Why wouldn’t she want to pleasure you the way you want? That’s selfish, in my opinion.”

“She can’t help that she’s not into it. I’m not going to make her do something she’s uncomfortable with.”

You kept your mouth shut, knowing that you’d say something a little too hostile if you didn’t. George sensed this and he sat up again and set his half empty glass on the table beside yours. 

“I’m just lucky I have you then.” he gave your arm a little nudge. 

You smiled softly at him and set your hand on his knee, “Me too.”

“I’m really, really lucky.” he continued softly. 

His eyes weren’t discreet as his gaze dropped to your lips and he licked his own. Your hand rubbed gently over his thigh.

“And work?” you pressed. 

“Fine.” he answered, unmoving, “Car’s good. I’ve been consistent this year…feels great.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah…feels good.” he breathed. 

“Mhm?” you gave his thigh a squeeze and he inhaled sharply. 

There was a pause, taken up by both of you just staring at each other side by side, bodies turned towards each other naturally and gazes drifting between lips and eyes. Who was going to make the first move?

“Did you wash up?” you asked lowly. 

“Yeah,” George licked his lips, “Took a detailed shower right before I came over.”

“Good boy.”

His teeth sunk into his bottom lip, smothering a smile. 

“What do you want to do today?” you asked, sliding your hand along the inner seam of his jeans and your thumb caressed his thigh. 

“Whatever you want.” George answered.

“That’s pretty broad.” you stated. “You have nothing specific in mind that you want?”

He shook his head, his body habitually starting to lean towards you. 

“Do you want me to tell you what I’m going to do? Or just do it?” 

He sounded dazed, as if he was already starting to fall into that perfect little headspace without you even properly touching him, “Whatever you want.”

You set your other hand against his chest to keep him from leaning too close, your faces almost centimeters apart. He licked his lips again and then bit his bottom one as he focused on your face, his hand resting on the seat of the couch behind you with how close he was. 

“Whatever I want?” you repeated, giving his thigh a squeeze.

“Mhm.” he answered with a gentle nod, “You know how I like it.”

“I do,” you agreed as you rubbed his thigh right up tauntingly close to his crotch, “and you remember our safe word?”

“Yes, ma’am.” he replied easily.

“Good boy.” you whispered. 

You eased your hand away from his chest, allowing him to lean in towards you and he did so happily until you set your finger against his lips, preventing him from kissing you. He stared into your eyes. You could smell his woodsy cologne on him with how close he sat and you tried not to make it too obvious with how you breathed him in. Your finger dragged down his lips, tugging at the bottom one gently before watching it fall back into place, and your hand on his thigh wrapped around the waistband of his jeans. 

You taunted him with a whisper right to his lips, “Wanna come to my room so I can treat you like the perfect little slutty boy you are?”

“Yes, please.” he breathed. 

You linked your finger in one of his belt loops and tugged him up from the couch and pulled him after you towards your room, half-empty drinks forgotten on the coffee table. George followed after you eagerly despite the way you led him across the hardwood floor and into your bedroom by the hem of his jeans and once you entered, you left the door wide open behind you. You were all alone after all, encapsulated by the thrilling privacy. 

When you turned to face him again, George tried to lean in to kiss you but you grabbed him by his arms and turned him around to shove him backwards onto the end of your bed. He landed on his back with a small gasp, staring up at you with wide blue eyes as you stood at the foot of the bed proudly. You untucked his linen shirt from his jeans with eager fists and he helped you to unbutton it so you could toss it aimlessly towards the pillows. His body was so perfect to you and your eyes glided over his bare torso as he rested on his elbows for you, your hands dancing down his pecs and over the arches and valleys of his muscle. 

“God, just look at you. You’re so sexy.” you said, hints of longing teasing your voice. 

“Thank you.” George replied angelically with a faint smile at his lips. 

Your hands unbuckled his belt and he stared down his body to watch as you pulled the leather strap out of the metal buckle, his bottom lip between his teeth. When your slender fingers popped the button on his jeans and tugged down the little zipper, George’s mouth fell open slightly in anticipation, flicking his eyes between your face and your hands as you worked to undress him. He lifted his legs up to let you pull his jeans and his underwear down in one smooth motion, dropping them to the ground, stripping him absolutely bare on the end of your queen size bed. He stared at you patiently.

The black silicone ring that was wrapped around the base of his cock drew your attention right away as it stood out against his fair skin and nestled against the trimmed hair that grew there. He was already hard and you wondered how he managed to hide it so well in his jeans the whole way up to your apartment and as you shared drinks in your living room. He certainly wasn’t small. 

“Oh my God, angel,” you exhaled, easily falling into your role that he expected of you, “you already put the cockring on yourself?”

“Yeah.” he licked away his cocky grin, “Couldn’t wait. Knew you’d want it on anyway.”

“Yeah, you’re such a good boy,” you reached down to gently stroke his dick with the tips of your fingers.

He hummed faintly at your touch, his hips trying to push up towards your hand and he groaned at the flexing motion. 

Your palms drifted up his abs as you spoke to him in a sickeningly sweet voice, “Coming all the way over here with that big, heavy dick of yours in that little ring…bet you’re just fucking aching for someone to touch you.”

“Yes, ma’am.” George answered, “Been wanting it all day…been wanting you to touch me all day.”

You pressed your palms against his chest and pushed him flat against the bed, leaving his legs hanging off the end, and you climbed on top of him to straddle his lap. George licked his lips as he stared up at you still fully clothed over top of him and his hands gravitated to your waist while yours caressed his chest and his abs. 

“What were you thinking of when you jerked off in the shower this morning?” you asked.

“You,” he answered, “fucking me.”

“Mhm?” you grabbed his wrists and pinned them to the sheets on either side of his head so you were leaning right over him, “Letting me have my way with you?”

“Yes, miss.” he breathed, eyes locked on your lips. 

“Just fucking every single little stupid thought from your pretty little head?”

“Yeah.” George whimpered faintly, “Please, can you?”

“Are you gonna do everything I say like a good little toy?”

“Yes, miss.” he nodded almost eagerly and you could nearly see his pupils dilating from lust in those blue eyes of his. 

He just looked so sweet underneath you like that, with your hands pinning him down and how he stayed just like that so obediently, that you couldn’t help yourself but lean down to dust a faint kiss over his lips. George flinched in pleasant surprise and just as he went to kiss you back, you pulled away. 

“No-” he squeaked. 

You got off of him, “I want you on your stomach.”

George offered no complaints despite his unfulfilled kiss as he shifted on your bed and adjusted himself to lay face down in the middle, resting his arms under his head as he let his gaze follow you while you undressed to your bra and matching panties. He sunk his teeth into his bottom lip patiently with a little grind against your bed as you got yourself situated and knelt up onto the bed beside him. 

What you hadn’t noticed initially was the black silicone shape nestled between his ass cheeks, now on display to you with him on his stomach. Your eyebrows raised and you reached out to gently press your middle finger against the flared base, earning a sharp inhale from the man beneath you. 

“Oh, my good boy, you got yourself so prepped and ready for me today.” you complimented, “You must have really wanted it.”

“Yes, miss.” George exhaled, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow shyly as he kept his eyes peeking over his bicep to where you stood at the bedside. 

“My little slut saving me so much time.” Your fingers rubbed gently over the flat narrow elongated base of the toy between his plush cheeks, “It’s so fucking hot thinking of you alone in your bathroom fingering your asshole to get this little toy to fit in there.”

“It was really tight.” George confessed.

“Bet it felt so good.” you said. 

“Mhm.” George answered into his elbow, “Was grinding on the seat of my car the whole way here too. Felt so fucking good.”

You tossed a leg over his thighs so you were straddling him and your hands rubbed lightly over the curve of his ass, one cheek under each hand. George took a shuttering breath. 

“And how does it feel now?” you pressed. 

“Good.” he mumbled, “I feel full.” 

“Just how you like it, right?”

“Mhm.” he shifted against the mattress a little, “Not as good as your dick though.” 

“Good boy.” you chuckled, gently smacking one palm down against his ass. 

He flinched and groaned tightly. 

“Want a little spanking, angel?” you asked. 

“Yeah…please.” George exhaled. 

You hit him gently with your other hand before soothing the spot with a little rub and then repeating that action on the other side, forcing a tight gasp from his mouth. You could see how he clenched around the toy in his ass with every light spank, urging you to do it again. But then you were just dragging your fingers over the curve of his ass and down the backs of his thighs, before giving him a few light smacks up his inner thighs and he groaned prettily into his arm.

“That’s my good boy.” you cooed, sliding your hands up his spine ever so faintly, raising shivers in your wake back down his golden skin. The few freckles that dotted his skin were familiar to you now and part of you wished your relationship was one that would permit you to kiss each one so lovingly. Instead, you pushed your innermost feelings aside with another spank to his ass. 

“Mm.” George grunted softly at the impact, his body flinching. 

When you pulled your hands away, he rutted faintly against the bed, his face still tucked in the crook of his arm on top of your pillows. 

“Needy little slut.” you tisked, giving him another little swat to his soft ass. 

“Please, miss.” he breathed. 

“Speak up, angel.” you said, “Use that pretty voice of yours.” 

George lifted his head from his arm to word his plea over his shoulder to you, “Please can you touch me, miss?”

With persistent grips, you groped his ass in your palms to pull a moan from his chest. 

“Yeah.” he groaned into his arm as the strong persistence of your hands had the toy inside him shifting. 

“Good boy.” you breathed, massaging his ass like dough in your warm palms. “You’re so fucking pretty.”

Your hands drifted up his spine and you gave his shoulders a little rub before dragging down his back again, rubbing and caressing his toned muscles tenderly. George gave you appreciative little hums as he fell into easy relaxation under your hands and his eyes struggled to stay open with how good it felt for you to rub him down. His body was art to you and you always liked to take a moment to let yourself admire every inch of it before really getting down to the reason why he showed up…besides, he would never complain about a massage. 

You couldn’t help yourself but lean down so you were laying right on top of him, pressing your hips against his ass to push that toy deeper inside him and he groaned tightly, and your lips found his neck in a gentle kiss. George’s shoulder raised up slightly at the shiver your faint kiss rose over his skin and his sharp inhale had you trailing more right up under his ear while your hips ground down against his ass faintly. 

“Oh my God.” he groaned into the crook of his arm, his eyes closed gently. 

“That’s my good boy.” you praised against the shell of his ear and gave it a little nibble just to earn a soft whine out of him. Then you were moving back down his neck and sucking a hickey into his shoulder. 

“No marks.” he reminded you breathily, “She’s gonna see.”

You pulled away from him with a small string of spit connecting your lips to his shoulder, staring down at the faint blushing love bite you left behind, and you rubbed the heels of your palms into his shoulder blades, counting his gentle protest, “I didn’t hear a safe word, angel.”

He didn’t have a chance to reply as you nudged your hips against his doughy ass in a mock thrust, just to make him really feel that toy inside him, and your nails dragged down his back just hard enough to leave ten straight lines blushing red against his caramel skin. George moaned tightly and you leaned back down to kiss his neck again. 

“Turn over,” you whispered against his ear, “I want to look at you properly.”

You sat back from him so he could shift himself over ungracefully onto his back and you left yourself straddling his thighs, sitting yourself down on them once he got situated. His naked body was laid out for you angelically—like a marble statue—and you rubbed your hands up his abs and his chest and then over his broad shoulders, giving them a warm squeeze. George blinked up at you with his bottom lip between his teeth, his arms draped on either side of his head against your pillow, entirely trusting of you, and all you could think about was how your pillow was going to smell like him that night. What a treat. 

“Gorgeous man.” you breathed. 

Your hands slid back down his chest and you pinched his nipples between thumb and forefinger, giving them a little twist. George’s little shuddering breath had you smirking proudly down at him, trailing your fingers daintily down his abs to feel the hard muscle under your fingertips and the precise expression of man that was laid out before you, all for you to touch and worship. 

His dick was insanely hard and standing up in the cool air of your bedroom with the ring wrapped snugly around the base to hold it there. You stared at it for a second, feeling the way it made your insides coil with arousal. You craved it inside you so intensely but it was a feeling you had never been blessed with and part of you assumed that maybe you never will. Pushing aside those melancholy thoughts, you faintly slid your fingertip along the leaking slit in the head of his cock, smirking at how his dick twitched under your feather-soft touch. His tense little hum had you doing it again before suddenly giving a gentle flick to the underside of the tip. 

“Oh-” George squeaked, his whole body flinching at that. 

Not giving into the touch he so desperately needed from you, you moved your legs from the outside of his to kneel yourself between his two, ordering him sweetly, “Hold your legs back for me, angel.” 

George reached down to grab his thighs and he pulled his legs back towards his chest for you, giving you room to stare at his thick cock between his thighs. Your hands rested on the undersides of his knees and pushed them farther apart. 

“Wider, handsome.” you cooed, “Hold them open by your ankles.”

When he obeyed you and kept a snug grip around each of his ankles to really hold his legs open wide, he looked filthy and so submissive like that, just waiting for you to do whatever you wanted to him. He was so spread and nearly bent in half that you had a clear view of his dick, his balls, and right down to his asshole that still held that matte black toy nestled inside it. 

“Good boy.” you praised and, with a gentle knuckle, you caressed his perineum. 

“Oh, please, miss.” George whimpered, his head falling back against the pillow beneath him, “Please touch me, I’m so fucking horny.” 

You didn’t offer him another word before you were leaning down and dropping out your tongue to lick right up the underside of his cock. The hitch of his breath had you smothering your smile behind another slow lick, dragging your full tongue right up the impressive length of his erection until you could taste the hints of salty precum that leaked from the tip onto your tastebuds. 

“Fuck.” George exhaled, staring down his body at you between his spread legs while your tongue caressed the underside of the tip of his cock, rubbing against the most sensitive spots that had his chest rising and falling heavily. 

With your hands resting daintily on his abs, you shifted onto your stomach so you could reach him easier and you pressed a sloppy wet kiss to the head of his cock. It twitched against your lips and you licked at it tauntingly, staring right back into his wide blue eyes up his vast expanse of abs and chest underneath you. You were always cruel with your teasing and he knew this well, but he also knew that the more you teased, the more you would reward him generously for taking it. So he didn’t argue. 

“Such a pretty dick.” you whispered right up against it with your lips brushing the soft skin of the head. You gave it another kiss. “Pretty dick on a pretty boy.” 

George licked his lips. 

You gave the head of his cock a little teasing suck before sitting back on your knees again and he literally whined at the loss of your fleeting contact. He stayed right where you had positioned him even as you leaned over his body to tug open your night table drawer and pull out a bottle of lube. His eyes nearly shone at the sight of it in your hand and the pop of the cap had him licking his lips excitedly and adjusting his hold on his ankles. 

You squirted a generous amount of lube onto the head of his cock, watching it drip down the sides filthily and right to the black silicone ring around the base. Then your hand was wrapping around it and smearing the lube back up the shaft of his cock, just gently enough to pull a shuddering breath from George’s chest. He lolled his head to the side as he watched you but his gaze caught in the mirrored closet doors just to the right of your bed and he gazed into the reflection. Seeing himself spread so salaciously on your bed had his cheeks turning pink but he couldn’t stop staring at it all the same - especially as he had a clear view of you knelt on the end of the bed with your slippery hand wrapped around his aching cock.

“Good boy.” you whispered, stroking him in gentle pumps of your hand until the room was filled with the wet squelch of lube. 

“Ohh God.” George moaned shakily. 

You let your other hand join your right, wrapping your fingers and thumb around the ring that held strong at the base of his dick and you kept him still as your right hand pulled twisting strokes. 

“You have such a big dick.” you breathed, “Can’t even get my fingers all the way around it.” 

“It’s yours.” he whispered, staring intently at the reflection in the full length mirror to his right. 

“Yeah, you belong to me, don’t you, baby boy?” 

“Yeah.” he exhaled. 

You gave his dick a little snug squeeze around the tip to have him gasping lightly as you ordered, “Look at me.”

George tore his eyes away from the mirror to meet your gaze and just as he did, you sped up your hand around his cock in quick flicks of your wrist. His nose scrunched up slightly as you gave him the attention he craved and he sunk his teeth back into his bottom lip with a soft chuckle laced so prettily with a whimper.

“You like looking at yourself, huh?” you taunted. 

George just hummed tightly, staring down at your hand tending to his aching cock with both hands, one perfectly still as the other jerked him off rapidly until his toes were curling in the air where he was holding them. Then you stopped suddenly and his head tossed back with a little grunt, only having to linger in that unpleasant ache for a few seconds before you slowly started stroking his dick with both hands in opposite twisting pumps. 

“Ohh fuck.” he whined and he met his reflection again easily, staring at himself and his expression’s natural waver. 

“You really like looking at yourself.” you reiterated, “Looking at what a perfect, beautiful little slut you are?”

“Yes, ma’am.” George groaned. 

“Yeah, you can’t even look at me when I ask you to…you just gotta stare at yourself in that mirror, huh?” you pressed. 

George turned his head back towards you, “Sorry.”

“Watching me stroke your dick is too much for you, angel?”

George exhaled, “Yeah.” 

“Mhm?” 

Your right hand was focused on the top half of his dick and with his response, you gave him quick little pumps right around the tip that had his head arching back against the pillow with a moan. 

“Oh, baby-” he withered. 

“Good boy.” you praised lustfully. 

The slick sound of your lube streaked hand tending to his cock filled your quaint bedroom and George stared down at it with his mouth agape. He gave you the sweetest sounds that made you wonder how anyone could deny him all the pleasure in the world, just how he wanted it. Just the sounds of him had you wanting to give it all up for him, giving him anything, so long as he kept moaning for you. It was what you thought of and imagined on those lonely nights after he went home to his girlfriend and you were left to touch yourself to the mere memory of him and the scent of his sweat and cologne that lingered on your pillow.

His cock throbbed in your hand under your impressive flicks of your wrist and once his nose started to scrunch up with pleasure, you stopped and pulled your hands right off of him. George inhaled sharply as his head fell backwards again and he groaned lowly to the ceiling at your edging.

“Fuck, I wanna cum so bad.” he spoke shakily. 

“Did you not cum this morning?” you asked, trailing your finger down the shaft of his dick, “In the shower?”

“Yeah, but…” he sniffled, “Barely.”

You cracked a small smile, cooing down to him lustfully, “My poor baby boy.”

George hummed in faint appreciation for your acknowledgment of his treacherous struggle and as both of your hands gently cupped his balls, his hum molded into a soft moan. 

“Poor little angel just wants to cum.” you tisked, massaging him in your hands snugly, “These heavy balls just need some relief, don’t they?”

“Yeah.” George exhaled, readjusting his grip on his ankles as he still held himself spread for you.

“Mhm.” you leaned down and wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock for a little suckle, hollowing your cheeks to make him feel the warm wet confines of your mouth that was only for him to be blessed with. 

“God.” he groaned through his teeth. 

You pulled off him again with a pop and his ample cock fell up against his abdomen, glistening in lube in the light from your open curtains. Without any tissues nearby, you reached for his linen shirt that was laying tossed over your opposite pillow from moments earlier when you stripped him in a rush, and you used that to wipe the lube off your hands. As you did so, you instructed him gently, “Hands and knees now, please, handsome.”

George dropped his legs with a half-relieved sigh and he turned over onto his hands and knees as expected of him, facing your headboard. Dropping the shirt to the side again, you rubbed your soft hands over the curve of his ass and leaned down to kiss one cheek before punctuating the soft act with a hard spank. He grunted tightly at the impact. 

“We’re gonna take this toy out of you now, okay?” you warning. 

“Okay.” George exhaled. 

You grabbed the bottle of lube and squirted another pump right between his cheeks and you watched as the clear liquid trickled down to his asshole and spread itself around the body of the toy that was nestled inside him. With a careful hand, you slid two fingers under each side of the flared base like you were handling a corkscrew and you gave it a gentle twist just to smear that lube around a little more. George’s tight inhale had you caressing his thigh with your other hand and you held him gently as you started to pull at the toy. 

You could see how his muscles stretched around it as the body of the toy was slowly eased out of him and you sunk your teeth into your bottom lip to keep focused on your cautious move. George’s mouth was hanging open as he stared over into the mirror again to watch, letting out a tight groan as the modest size sphere was pulled from his ass. You had anticipated that it would be done and he had just tucked a cheeky little buttplug up there before coming over, but even when you pulled it out, it was still stuck inside. 

“Naughty little slut, look at you.” you chuckled, giving the base of the toy a little teasing tug, “Didn’t even know you had a bigger plug.”

“Ordered one last week just for you, miss.” George confessed behind blushing pink cheeks. 

“You’re such a good boy, baby.” you tisked. “How’d you sneak it past her?”

“Kept it under one of my old helmets in my office.” George answered obediently. “It’s where I keep all my presents for you.” 

“For you.” you corrected him. 

“For me.” he repeated softly. 

“Yeah, it’s all for you, angel.” you reminded him sweetly and gave the toy another little tug. 

George groaned softly and you kissed the bottom of his spine, holding him tenderly as you carefully eased out the second sphere. He was so sensitive and tight and it took a fair amount of effort to finally get the toy completely out of him with a careful hand. 

When it finally came free with a filthy wet pop, George gasped for breath after having held it for the last few long seconds and you stared at how his hole clenched and gaped back at you. You couldn’t help yourself but slide two fingers inside him, slicked up easily in the excess lube that coated his skin and dripped down the toy. The return of the sight fullness had George moaning softly, thankfully, and you kissed his back again before eyeing the anal beads that rested used in your open palm. Three fair sized spheres were equally spread up the narrow silicone base, glistening in lube, and the mere concept of him standing alone in his ensuite bathroom and lubing himself up to slide these in his ass for you had you pulsing with desire for the man at your mercy. 

The anal beads were tossed to the side of the bed, landing on top of his discarded shirt, and you kissed down his spine again as your fingers thrusted into him slowly. George’s reverberating moan had you smiling against his skin and prying apart his flesh with your free hand, giving you room to drop your tongue out and lick around your fingers that were pushing shallowly inside him. He literally withered and his legs naturally spread a little wider, welcoming you in closer. 

You pursed your lips and let a thick dribble of spit fall onto your fingers and your tongue followed after it, swirling it around the snug rim of muscle that hugged your two digits tightly. George groaned shakily and you lapped at his asshole gladly, loving the way he was so vocal and trusting with you. You would give him anything. 

“Fuck, that’s so good, baby.” George exhaled, staring at himself in the full-length mirror to his left, earning a full view of his naked body on hands and knees and your face buried behind him with your hand on his waist.

His breathing alone was erotic and you pulled your fingers out of him so you could have a clear shot at his ass with your tongue, kissing it wetly a few times as your slippery hand dropped down to take hold of his dick between his legs. George let out the shakiest little whine as you started stroking his cock sloppily and let your tongue swirl and pry at his asshole between wet messy kisses. He slumped down onto his forearms against the bed without tearing his locked gaze away from the mirror, wide eyed gaping at how you stroked his dick and smothered yourself between his cheeks. 

“Ohh-” he whimpered, fisting the pillow in his large hands, “Yeah, please-”

You pulled away from him with a taunt, “Does that feel good, baby boy?”

“Yes, miss. Feels so fucking good.” he pleaded. 

Your tongue nudged inside him and he pushed back against your face desperately. You kept a snug grip on the base of his cock, holding his balls in your palm at the same time, to give all your focus on rimming him filthily. The wet slurps that fell from your throat were only dramatized slightly because, in reality, he did make you drool uncontrollably. Your free hand pulled back to spank him again and as you did so, you could feel him clench under your tongue, making you chuckle warmly against him as you pulled him back on your mouth by a snug handful of his flesh. 

“Christ, I need it.” George begged, pushing back on your face some more, “I need you inside me.”

“Mhm?” you taunted against his body, spanking him again, ordering with a muffled voice as you kissed down the backs of his thighs, “Beg for it.”

“Please, fuck me.” he answered easily, the words spilling out of him, “I really, really need you to fuck me. I need it so bad. Been wanting it all day, mommy, please let me take your dick.” 

You dragged your tongue right back up his thigh and over his balls and perineum and you left him with one more wet kiss to his asshole. You could never say no to him. Not when he asked so prettily.

Sitting back from him, you left him with a hard slap across the ass, already starting to see the blush of pink of your handprint left behind on his fair skin as you told him, “I don’t want you touching yourself. Keep your hands flat on the headboard so I can see them.” 

George slid his hands out from underneath him and, resting forward on his elbows, he set his palms against the wood of your headboard. You gave him another little spank before getting off the bed. He watched intently as you reached behind your back to unclip your bra and let it fall to the floor, quickly followed by the drop of your panties. He licked his lips in anticipation and his gaze followed your every slight movement as you opened your bedside table drawer again to retrieve your purple dildo and black leather harness. 

“Oh my God.” George exhaled impatiently as he watched you buckle the harness around your hips and thighs, “That’s your biggest, right?”

“Yeah.” you answered, “Is that okay?”

“Fuck yeah, that’s okay.”

You dropped your smirk at his response as you tucked the dildo through the secure loop in the harness, “Of course you want the biggest one, fucking slut.”

George hid his smile into the crook of his arm with his hands still held against your headboard like you asked. His eyes never left you as you made sure the strap-on was secure and even when you climbed back onto the bed behind him, he stared at you through the mirror. You were awe-inspiring to him. 

The pop of the bottle of lube had his teeth sinking into his bottom lip but the dry squelch that came with the press of the pump wasn’t what was expected. George glanced over his shoulder at you as you shook it and then squeezed the pump again, earning nothing but a little drop to come out onto your hand. 

“Looks like I’m out of lube.” you announced. 

George’s eyes widened and he nearly sounded heartbroken, “No.”

“Don’t worry, don’t worry.” you leaned over him to reach into your open drawer again, “I have a spare.”

He hid his embarrassment over his obvious momentary disappointment into the pillow, “Good.” 

“Just shows how often you come over, huh?” you gave his bum a little pat before unlocking the cap of the new bottle, “Already gone through the bulk size in a matter of a month.” 

“Sorry.” George mumbled, his voice muffled by fabric.

“You have absolutely nothing to apologize for, Georgie.” you assured him as you pumped a few generous squirts onto the strap and then slicked it up with your hand, “I always love having you over to hang out.” 

George offered a half smile that you didn’t catch at your little joke before he was countering gently, “You’re spending so much money on lube.”

“Fine then.” you compromised as you smeared some around his asshole and slid two fingers inside to get him nice and slick, “Next time, you bring your own bottle.” 

George chuckled softly, “Deal.” 

You grabbed his stray shirt again and wiped your hands off before tossing it and the bottle to the other side of the bed to give you your hands free. George’s flushed skin welcomed your warm hands and you caressed his waist and the flesh of his ass and you slid the length of the strap-on between his cheeks. 

“Get comfy, angel.” 

George slid his arms back underneath him to be propped up on his forearms, bent at the waist, with you between his spread knees. He shuffled back towards you a little so he could feel the slick jelly dildo poking against him. 

“Okay.” he said. 

You held the base of the toy between thumb and forefinger, sliding it teasingly between his cheeks as you asked, “Softer or rougher today, baby?”

“Whatever you want.” George replied, his voice strained with anticipation. 

You tisked at his response, “And yet I’m not the one getting it up the ass.” 

George smiled into the reflection of the mirror and he fisted your pillow underneath his arms as you lined up with his asshole. He took a routine few deep breaths and then you were slipping inside him slowly. Watching the both of you through the mirror, George could also see how his mouth dropped open and his face screwed up at the tight fit and he sunk his teeth into his forearm through the ache that it pushed through his insides. 

“Ah, fuck.” he squeaked. 

“Good boy.” you held his waist snugly to hold him steady as you guided the strap into him deeper, nice and slowly, “You’re so fucking tight, angel. Always makes me really have to push here.” 

When you reached about halfway, you stopped and leaned down to kiss his spine and your hands caressed his waist comfortingly as he adjusted to the size. George groaned and tried to push back on you some more. 

“Aww, you want it that bad, huh?” you chuckled, slapping your hand down against his ass as you sat back on your knees proudly, having him bent over in front of you, “Want me to give you more?”

“Yes, ma’am.” George mumbled. “Please.”

“Yeah? You’re so desperate for dick, aren’t you, angel? Just begging me to push it all the way in and fill your tiny little asshole right up.”

George withered at your words, “Oh God, please.” 

You eased in deeper, painfully slowly, and George’s grip tightened on the pillow as he stared with a narrowed strained expression into the mirror. You spanked him again before speaking, “Baby boy just needs to get fucked properly, isn’t that right? Coming crying to me to give him what he wants…to be filled up and fucked until he can’t think straight…called a pretty boy…darling little angel…my perfect little slut.” 

“Yeah, I’m your slut.” George whimpered, his biceps bulging as he strained against you and pushed his ass back right up against your body so the strap was tucked all the way inside him. His withering moan was heavenly and you slapped your hand down hard against his blushing flesh, a big handsome man turned to putty in your hands. 

“Beg for it.” you ordered. 

You met his eyes in the mirror as he stared at you longingly, a sweet desperate pout on his lips and he gave you a little whine before speaking angelically, “Please, miss, you own me. Please fuck me like your good little whore. I’ll be so good for you, baby, please, I need you to fuck me until I can’t think straight.”

The sharp slap of your hand against his ass made him wince and gasp. 

“Good boy.”

Another spank. 

“Good fucking boy.”

Another. 

George pushed back against you desperately, starting to fuck himself on the strap, “Please, please, please, gimme that dick.”

You gave him one more hard spank before you were grabbing the blushing flesh of his ass in both hands and yanking him back onto the toy. 

“Fuck.” George grunted, his mouth falling open as you started to fuck him slowly. His eyes literally rolled and he dropped his face into the crook of his arm. “Oh, fuck-” 

“There you go, angel.” you spanked him again as you thrusted into him steadily, “This what you needed?”

“Yes, ma’am.” he responded obediently. 

“Good boy.” 

Your hands gripped his waist as you gave him tauntingly slow, deep curling thrusts that had his hands gripping the pillow tightly. George’s trembling little moans had you biting back your proud smirk, pushing into his tense body until your hips were pressed right up against the curve of his ass again and again. 

“Feels so fucking good.” he exhaled. 

“Yeah?” you kept your slow pace going, “But you’re not gonna cum until I tell you to, isn’t that right?”

George groaned as you pushed deeply into him, “Yes, ma’am.”

You couldn’t help but start to thrust into him a little faster, paired nicely with a nice sharp spank to his blushing ass and you stared down at how it jigged with each nudge of your hips against it. George moaned into the pillow and kept himself in perfect place for you, the perfect angle for you to watch the thick dildo disappear inside him completely with each thrust. The lube squelched filthily between you and his skin was shimmering in it, keeping your motions gliding easily no matter how tight he gripped around the strap. 

“Can I touch my cock?” George asked, his words muffled by the pillow. 

You spanked him again, “No.” 

“Oh.” he whimpered in reply, smothering his face into the crook of his arm. 

“Am I not fucking you well enough, angel?” you taunted him with a voice filled with demeaning tones, “Am I not giving you what you want?”

“My God, I want more.” George pleaded. 

You spanked his ass again, “Who’s in charge?”

“You.” 

He squirmed on the bed and spread his legs a little farther apart with a huff. You slapped your hand down on his blushing ass again as you kept your lazy thrusts going, barely giving him enough to cause the bed to creak. In fact, the only sound was the steady squish of the lube and George’s whimpery breaths. 

Finally, 

“Red.”

George mumble of the safeword had you stopping right away and you rubbed your hands up his back comfortingly. 

“I hear you.” you acknowledged, “What happened? Do you want me to pull out?”

“No.” George whined, reaching back to grab your thigh to make sure you stayed tucked deeply inside him, “I just wanna cum.”

“That’s not a reason to use your safeword.” you spanked him harder in punishment, “You can’t use your safeword just because you’re not getting what you want. Last time I checked, you wanted to do whatever I wanted.” 

George groaned heavily into the sheets in frustration, “Sorry, ma’am.”

“Now, was there something serious or were you just being a brat?”

George turned his head and pouted at you through the mirror, “Was just being a brat.”

“Forgot who’s in charge, hm?”

He refused to answer that question. 

“Let me remind you.”

When you pulled out of him, he let out a strained gasp and you left behind his gaping hole that you left like that just to make him ache and squirm. Instead, you got off the bed and walked around to the side, situating yourself to stand right in front of his head and you tangled your hand in the back of his hair to force him closer. 

“Open your mouth.”

George hesitated a moment—knowing what was coming—and he let his eyes raise up your body to your face as he opened his mouth obediently. Drunk on lust, your precision wasn’t great, and the tip of the lubed up dildo hit the corner of his mouth first as you tried to shove it in, smearing lube over his cheek, but he then turned his head slightly to help you get it in properly. The taste of artificial strawberry that came with the unpleasant texture of the excess lube that coated the strap-on made George’s eyebrows furrow and you pulled his mouth down farther around it. He gagged on it when he got only halfway and he tried to pull back but you held his head in place with a secure hand in his hair. 

“Show me what a needy little cockslut you are.” you spoke down to him, “Choke on my dick.” 

He didn’t have much of a choice as you started to thrust the strap into his mouth although he didn’t put up a fight against it either. Instead, from his position on his elbows, George raised a hand up to wrap around the base of the harness to try and control it as much as he could, even as you fucked the wet gags from his throat until he was drooling down his chin. With a furrowed expression of filthy punished bliss, George’s blue eyes raised up your body to your face and you were blessed with the sight of him taking your favourite dildo balls deep into his slobbery mouth. 

“God, fucking look at you.” you exhaled, your pussy absolutely throbbing at the mere sight of him, “You look like a pathetic fucking whore, choking on my strap like a good little toy.” 

George moaned weakly for you, tears brimming in his eyes as you fucked the dildo against the back of his throat and he gagged loudly around it. You pulled it back to give him a bit of a break to catch his breath while you smeared the faux cockhead against his spitty lips as he licked them breathlessly. But seconds later, you were pushing back into his mouth and tugging him down again onto the strap, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip at the gurgling sound he made as you filled his throat with your essence of power. He took over for you as he grew used to the motions and he drooled down the toy with ungraceful bobs of his head. 

As he did so, George dropped his hand from the base of the dildo to set a gentle hand against your inner thigh, only finding your skin damp in the process. He pulled off the strap with a faint wet pop and spoke up to you, “Are you okay?”

Ignoring his innocent question since you knew he had just found out how damn horny you were from the way you were literally dripping down your thighs, you lifted your right leg up off the ground and tossed it over his shoulder, tugging his head closer to the edge of the bed by his hair, “Clean it up.”

George dropped his tongue out to drag messily over your glistening pussy - something he had never done with you before. The act always felt too adulterous to him but in that moment, he was way too horny to care and he was ready to do anything to get you to fuck him again. His tongue had you withering and your body jumped slightly at his warm wet touch, even as he licked up your inner thighs and suckled on your damp skin. You rubbed your pussy against his mouth and George groaned against you, lapping at your folds and suckling on them greedily to taste you as much as he could. 

Still standing at the side of the bed, when you tried to adjust your position your leg behind his shoulder ended up bonking him in the back of the head. You gently rubbed your hand through his hair over the spot with a quick, “Shit, sorry.”

George barely pulled away from you as he replied with a hurried, “That’s okay. That’s okay.”

You stared down at him with his face between your legs and the thick purple dildo standing up tall from your harness and hindering the view off half of his face. But he kept his eyes on you right back with his long lashes fluttering slowly in pleasure as he ate you out hungrily and savoured the taste of you on his tongue. He swore you were the best thing he had ever tasted and he moaned against your cunt with his nose bumping against your clit, ignoring the ache of his neck at the slightly awkward angle just so he could smother himself in you. 

“God, look at my good boy.” you exhaled, your fingers tightening in the back of his hair, “So fuckin’ pussy whipped.” 

George’s eyebrows furrowed slightly at your words, his soft moan against you proof of just how much he was enjoying it, and he shook his head slightly to get his tongue deeper inside you, ready to please. Your heart was racing but you refused to show it, desperate to keep your higher ground above him just how he liked it. 

With your hand in his hair, you pulled him away from your pussy and he separated reluctantly with a wet slurp, peering up at you with glistening lips. You reached down with your free hand to smack his cheek a few times, speaking to him sweetly, “Look at my pretty boy with his face covered in my pussy juice just like he’s meant to.” 

“You taste so fucking good, mommy.” George breathed, licking his lips. 

“Yeah?” you pushed two fingers into his mouth and he let you pry him open so you could bend down slightly and spit against his eager tongue, “Aren’t you a lucky fucking boy then.”

“Yes, ma’am.” he agreed easily.

You took hold of the strap and carefully guided it over his wet lips and over his cheek, rubbing his face with it even as his eyes fluttered closed and he groaned filthily. His lips were pouted and cheeks were flushed pink and you slapped the heavy jelly dildo against his face a few times. 

“Kiss it.” you ordered. 

George puckered out his lips and turned his head slightly to deliver a kiss to the head of your strap and as you rubbed it over his mouth a few more times, he gave it a few more kisses. 

“Open your mouth.” 

He did, and you slid it back into his mouth against his tongue and he gladly moaned around it, starting to suck it off right away. With shallow bobs of his head, he was already starting to gag on it and his fingers wrapped in the leather harness that was snug around your thigh. A single tear trickled down his cheek and he stared up at you longingly, desperate for praise. 

“My pretty boy.” you swiped the tear away with your thumb and held him tenderly by the head, “You look so fucking pretty with these tears on your face from my dick.”

George smothered himself down on it some more, gagging loudly around it, and you scratched your fingers gently through the soft hair at the nape of his neck. 

You asked him sweetly, “Gonna be a good little boy for me and let me fuck your ass?”

He pulled off the strap to answer breathlessly, “Yes, ma’am.”

You took your leg back from over his shoulder so you were standing properly at the side of the bed and you gave his cheek a few little pats before bending down to take his lips with yours in a filthy kiss. George honestly whimpered thankfully at the treat, kissing you back insistently for only a few seconds before you were breaking away from him and returning to your rightful spot at the foot of the bed. 

“Right up on your hands and knees now, handsome.” you instructed while you shuffled up behind him again.  

George arranged himself without complaint and as he did so, you grabbed the bottle of lube again and reapplied some generously to your dildo to make up for the prior application that was wasted by the faux blowjob you just made him give you. Again, his shirt was used to wipe off your hand after you stroked the strap in lube and then you were angling the head right up against his puckered hole. 

“Please.” George exhaled. “Please, I need it so bad, miss.” 

You eased back inside him slowly and he let out a long trembling moan right along with it until you were fully inside him. He then received three hard spanks by your hand before you were grabbing his waist and starting to fuck him again. 

“Ugh, fuck.” he withered, fisting the sheets under his straight arms. 

“Good boy.” you praised, spanking him again, “That’s my good boy.”

George’s wavering moan was shameless and it only grew louder as you tangled a hand in the back of his hair and yanked his head back, making him whine out to the walls of your room. He reached a hand up to smack flat against the wall behind your bed, trying to push himself back into your every thrust, pleasure smeared all over his face. 

You propped one foot up onto the mattress to fuck him deeper, really giving it to him until the bed was creaking underneath you. With another spank, you reached underneath to grab his dick and gave it a gentle squeeze before wrapping your hand around his balls and giving them a little tug. George’s tight grunt from his throat was mixed pleasurably with pain and his eyes screwed up as you literally had him by the hair and the balls. 

“You’re not going anywhere.” you reminded him. 

“No, ma’am.” he answered squeakily, “I’m yours.”

“That’s right. These big, heavy balls are mine.” 

George let out the sweetest moan as he pushed back against you and you gripped him a little tighter, fucking him strongly until the headboard was hitting the wall in steady thuds. The whimpers tumbled from George’s throat and it wasn’t long before he was unable to hold himself up anymore and he slumped down onto his forearms against the bed. You let go of his hair to let his head drop between his arms and you spanked him right across his blushing ass instead, watching yourself fuck him strongly. 

“I know you need this.” you spoke down to him, “I know you can’t live without my cock in your ass.”

“Uh huh.” George whined. 

“You might like pussy but you can’t fucking live without my cock up your ass, huh?”

“No, ma’am.” George agreed easily, his face screwed up in pleasure, “I’m yours. I’m all fucking yours.” 

You spanked his ass hard, “Tell me you’re my little cockslut.”

“I’m your little cockslut. I’m your slut.” George cried out. “Fuck!” 

“That’s right.” you slid both of your hands up his back and pressed them down against his shoulder blades, forcing him to slide flat on the bed so he was bent right over at the waist and his arms wrapped around your pillow to smother his face in it. He moaned more freely that way and you wished you had a mirror in front of him so you could see the way his eyes rolled at how deep you got. 

“Who’s my good boy?” you asked sternly. 

“I am.” George answered shakily, words muffled by the pillow, “I’m your good boy.” 

You held him there by the back of his neck, spanking his ass with your other hand again. The headboard was hitting the wall loud enough that you might have wanted to be worried if your neighbours could hear but your only priority in that moment was to make the man who had your heart cum completely hands free. 

His biceps were massive like that, only flexed more with how he gripped the pillow in his arms so tightly, tensing his entire body so much so that you could feel him getting tighter around the strap that pounded away inside him. You spanked him again just to spur on more of those angelic whimpers that he muffled into your pillow and his knees pressed harder into the mattress to try and escape your overwhelming gift. You only made you grab his balls again in a snug grasp, keeping him in place with a squealing whine out of his throat until he suddenly went silent. His right hand flew out from under the pillow and he slammed it hard against the headboard, wrapping his slender fingers around the white wood until his knuckles nearly blended into the paint colour. 

“Cum for me.” you ordered, still fucking into him at that consistent pace, “Cum for me, angel.” 

George could barely breathe as he let out a strained “ohh-” into your pillow. He shuddered as he came, gaping into the silk pillowcase with the most erotic expression you wished he could have blessed you with a front row view of. His asshole gripped right up around the strap but you just grabbed his waist to help thrust into him steadily through it regardless, especially with how he trembled. 

“Good boy.” you praised richly, “Good boy, Georgie.” 

“Jesus fucking Christ.” George heaved for breath as he lifted his face out of your pillow and turned to his left to look in the full length mirror again, being met with his erotic pose and flushed tear streaked face. “Shit.” 

You rubbed your hands warmly over his back and left a gentle kiss to his spine before slowly pulling out of him. He audibly winced at the sudden emptiness and he carefully rolled over onto his back to rest against your pillows with his arms draped above his head, his chest rising and falling heavily. His legs were spread slightly and you were positioned between them still, earning the ethereal sight of him draped out naked and blissful on your bed with his skin blushed pink with arousal and streaks of creamy white scattered over his abs and down the shaft of his still-hard cock. That ring around the base was gripping him for dear life and you ran a gentle fingertip around it, watching how it made him flinch with a soft grunt. 

“Beautiful man.” you breathed, licking your lips as your eyes soaked him all in. 

George pushed a hand through his frazzled brown hair and offered you a weak smile in return. You reached for his shirt still tossed to the side of the bed and you used the fabric to wipe up the creamy white mess from his abs and around his dick all while he watched you intently, hands tucked behind his head. He then reached down and carefully slid the cockring off his softening dick with a heavy sigh, “I’m starving.” 

You chuckled lightly and gave his waist a squeeze, asking through your own breathlessness, “Me too. What are you feeling like? Pizza?” 

“Yeah, that sounds so fucking good right now.” he agreed easily. 

“Okay. I can order some.” you offered, “Do you wanna get cleaned up a little in the meantime?”

“Yeah.” George started to make a move to sit up and his light wince had you smiling and dusting a kiss to his shoulder. 

You watched him disappear into the bathroom, leaving you with the slippery cockring in hand to be in charge of washing up the toys while he washed up himself. First, you ordered the pizza so while it was being prepared, you had time to tidy up. You threw out the empty bottle of lube and dumped your now-warm unfinished drinks from the living room and began to scrub the used toys in the kitchen sink. Washed and dried, the purple dildo rested heavy in your hand and you couldn’t help but strap it back onto the harness, letting it dangle straight out, proudly, from your body as you muddled around your apartment in the nude to get things in order. There was some sense of pride and power about it. 

After growing familiar with each other, George felt perfectly comfortable showering at your place and he did so that late afternoon in the privacy of your bathroom. You listened to his muffled voice singing a little off-key in the shower and part of you ached to join him; lather him up in your body wash and feel every crevice of his body under the warm water. So you distracted yourself from your impossible thoughts by picking up his discarded clothes from your bedroom floor and you folded them, placing his phone on your bedside table for him to retrieve later. When you set it down, the wallpaper of his girlfriend stared back at you; some professional photoshoot she did from one of her modeling gigs. You stared at it blankly until his screen went black again. 

The sound of the bathroom door opening had you moving away from the presence of his phone and you looked over as he walked into your bedroom with your towel hanging low around his waist. He sent you a small smile which you returned and he slid past you, his eyes caught by the black leather harness and purple dildo that still sat pretty around your waist. His little smirk was unmissable and he grabbed his underwear from where you had folded it and placed it on top of your dresser. 

“Still wearing it?” he nodded towards the strap.

“Yeah.” you sat on the side of your bed, watching how the jelly dildo wobbled for a moment, and you replied to him, “Makes me feel all powerful.” 

“Try having a dick 24/7.” he teased as he dropped your towel to leave himself bare in the light of the sunset streaming in through your window. “No wonder why men think they can rule the world.” 

“I dunno…” you said, shamelessly watching him pull his underwear up his legs, “I can feel equally powerful as a woman sometimes too.”

“You are incredibly powerful,” George complimented before picking up your towel from the floor, “Sorry about using your towel, by the way. I was covered in lube and I seriously needed a shower.”

You shrugged, “No problem. What’s mine is yours.” 

He sent you a smile on his way back out of the bedroom and you watched him disappear towards the bathroom again. You pressed your fist against your chest for a moment with how strong and burning your heartbeat felt in moments like that where for a second it felt like a hint of domestic life with the man who had your heart and soul. 

Your phone rang to alert you that the pizza arrived and you let the delivery driver into the building so he could bring it to the door. When he knocked, George called out to you that he was going to answer it so you waited in your nakedness in the safety of your room. Seconds later, George joined you with the steaming pizza box in hand, still dressed in only his underwear, and you scooted backwards on your bed so he could join you. 

The two of you made a little pile of pillows against the headboard to rest against comfortably and you retrieved your laptop from under your bed so you could find something to watch on Netflix while you ate. You selected a choice together while George opened the pizza box and pulled his first slice from the pie, holding it carefully with both hands as he leaned back against your pillows. 

“I’ll pay you back for half.” he said through his first bite. 

“No, don’t be silly.” you replied without looking up from your screen, “My treat.”

“You sure?” he asked. “I don’t mind.” 

You turned to look at him over your shoulder, “You’re not paying for me to fuck you.” 

He scoffed, “Well don’t put it like that.” 

You pulled a smile and focused back on the Netflix home screen and your intentful scrolling, “Isn’t she going to wonder why you’re not home for dinner?”

George shrugged, “She’ll be out with friends anyway.” 

You didn’t answer. 

“Why?” he pressed. 

You shrugged and selected the next episode of the show you had started together before resting back against the pillows alongside him, “Just curious.” 

“Did you want me to go?” 

Your head whipped over to look at him quickly, “God, no. Not at all. I love it when you’re here.”

It was hard to hold back the strong emotion and adoration behind your words. George just met your smile for a beat before turning back to his pizza and the opening scene of the TV show. 

He shifted in place slightly and let out a little strained sigh, peaking your attention back over to him. He answered your silent inquiry with a light chuckle and a, “It kinda hurts to sit.”

You licked away a grin and served yourself a slice of pizza.

As the episode progressed and the pizza grew smaller as you ate, you found yourself naturally leaning towards each other on your bed until your heads were nearly resting together. You couldn’t help yourself but glance over at him discreetly, catching him watching the show so intently that his eyebrows had the slightest furrow to them. He looked so cute like that and you could have stared at him for hours with just as much interest as any TV show you played. You just craved him so strongly in every way possible. 

His low chuckle drew your attention to your laptop again, noting the steamy long-awaiting kiss shared between the two main characters behind the swell of emotional music. George tisked, “Took long enough.”

You couldn’t help yourself, “Too bad he hasn’t divorced his wife yet.”

George countered casually, “He’s creating a whole new church to do so, that’s how dedicated he is for this woman. Give the guy some time. You can’t create a whole new religion in an afternoon.” 

You wondered if your discreet meaning had just gone right over his head and you analyzed his face as he watched the progression of the scene at your side. Sensing your stare, he turned to look at you too. 

“What?” he asked. 

Your mind swirled with all sorts of sappy confessions of your undying love for him, but the only thing that made it past your brain’s filters was a messy unimportant discussion question of, “Do you think Henry VIII ever took it up the ass?”

George snorted, “Maybe.”

“Anne Boleyn here seems like a boss bitch, to be honest. I could see her pegging the king.”

“Would you?”

“Peg the king?” you raised an eyebrow in his direction.

George looked back at you, “Mhm?”

“Only if you were the king.”

His lips perked up at the corner in a cheeky little grin at your response and he reached over to grab the purple dildo that was still secured around your waist and he jokingly aimed to put you closer by it while his face leaned in towards yours. You gladly let him kiss you, feeling those same swells of emotion that had been encapsulated in the music of the scene you had been watching. Leaning into each other, you raised your hand up to slide around the side of his neck to keep his lips on yours as you shared slow passionate kisses that filled your insides with butterflies. 

You turned towards him a little more, determined to savour the feeling of his kisses as they were often few and far between - especially unwarranted like this - and yet they were your favourite part of your little situationship. You could taste the pizza on his tongue and the heat from the shower still lingering on his skin and although the scent of his cologne was now mostly replaced with the scent of your own body wash, it only made you realize how much better it smelt on him. You were completely enamoured with him. 

Greedily, your hand slid down his bare chest and around his waist, feeling the smoothness of his skin and the tension of his muscles with his body turned towards you the slightest amount. George was leaning back against the headboard and plentiful pillows comfortably, letting you lead your sloppy kisses that took precedence over the scene still playing on your laptop. He pulled away from you to kiss down your chest instead and his large hand guided one of your breasts to his mouth so he could take your nipple between his lips. You shifted beside him to give him a better angle and he tongued at your nipple and sucked on it until it was hard, humming pleasantly against your chest before pulling back with a wet pop. 

“Haven’t had enough, have you?” you breathed, sliding your hand into the back of his hair as he took your opposite nipple in his mouth for a quick suck and then he peppered impatient kisses up your neck.

“Mm mm.” he shook his head faintly and nipped at your earlobe to make you shiver. 

You pulled away from him for a moment just long enough to pause the episode and then close your laptop and set it and the pizza box back on the ground all while George adjusted himself with a giddy smile. When you turned back to him, your hand drifted up his leg and over the front of his snug briefs to rub the obvious shape of his cock hidden underneath while your lips moved in to meet his again. He moaned softly into your mouth at your teasing touches and right away was making a move to push his underwear down his legs. Permitting it, you let him drop them off the side of the bed before he was grabbing the strap again and pulling you closer by the harness. 

Your lips met again in messy tongue-led kisses and you wrapped your hand around his semi-soft dick to help him get harder, gently caressing the underside of the head with the pad of your thumb. He shuttered at your touch and held you close by the back of your neck, naturally spreading his legs wider for you. 

“Good boy.” you praised into his mouth between passionate kisses, “I’m gonna make you feel so good. Leave those pretty legs spread for me.” 

George licked his lips as you pulled away from him and he bent his legs up and spread them wider on your bed while he watched you shift over to your bedside table and grab the bottle of lube again and something from your drawer. You set the clean prostate vibrator between your lips while you popped the cap on the bottle of lube and squirted some onto your fingers under the impatient eye of the man with you. He stroked himself lazily and you offered him a generous squirt onto the head of his cock to help him out…his gentle hum was thanks enough. 

You then smeared your fingers around his asshole, reapplying the lube that had been washed away in the shower, and he winced faintly at the feeling of your warm touch against his sensitive muscle. It was still slightly gaping from your previous fucking and you only slid the tips of two fingers inside just to make sure he was lubricated sufficiently. George’s soft whine was impatient and angelic and you pulled the silicone vibrator from your mouth with your free hand so you could lean down and capture his lips in a kiss instead. He reached for you adoringly, still stroking his dick as he held your lips on his with his other hand, kissing you like his life depended on it and it made you dizzy with lust. You wanted him forever. 

After a few moments, you pulled away from his lips to focus on your goal. With another pump of lube to the end of the vibrator, you smeared it in enough to cover the ribbed shaft and then angled it carefully against his glistening hole. George shifted a bit farther down against the pillows and spread his legs a little wider, watching with his bottom lip between his teeth as you slowly eased the toy inside him. His muscles hugged the silicone erotically, stretching over each ridge and curve until it was tucked securely in place. The flared base had a short arm that reached along the length of his perineum and nestled right behind his balls so when you turned it on, the steady vibrations covered him completely. 

George’s face literally withered in pleasure, eyes rolling and mouth falling agape, and he stared up at you with that lustful expression that had your insides fluttering at the mere sight of him. Your one finger rested against the base to make sure the vibrator was secure in place, watching his physical reaction from your position on your knees between his spread legs. 

“How's that?” you asked. 

“Intense,” George exhaled, “Good.” 

Glancing down to his hand still wrapped around the base of his cock, you stated, “You’re getting really hard.” 

As if that were a reminder, George gave himself a few lazy pumps, “Yeah.” 

You licked your lips, staring at his dick shamelessly as you held the vibrator in place, going completely heart eyes over the sight of how big it was in his large hand, glistening in lube and already pearling precum from the swollen head. With a nudge to his wrist, you got him to let go so you could have a clear view of his entire cock and how thick and heavy it looked, angled right up against his abdomen. You just wanted it so badly. Honestly, you could have cried. 

George squirmed slightly from the vibrations inside him and you gave his dick a little pet with the palm of your hand, earning a soft moan from his chest. The pad of your index finger rubbed taunting just under the head in that sensitive spot and his dick flinched naturally from your feather soft touches. 

“I want you inside me.” you breathed. 

George hummed tightly, answering just as quietly with a blissful waver to his voice, “We can’t.” 

“Why not?” you pressed. 

“You know why not. I can’t risk anything.” 

“She won’t know.” 

“She might.”

Still gently rubbing his cock with your fingertips, you pressed the button at the bottom of the vibrator with your other hands, making it increase in intensity. George’s head dropped back against the pillows with a tight groan, his legs trying to curl up towards his chest if it weren’t for you sitting pretty between them. 

You weren't done trying, letting your feelings for him cloud your judgement and the unwritten rules of your pre-agreed upon situationship. “What’s she gonna do? Whine to her friends because she can’t satisfy her boyfriend so he found someone who could?” 

George groaned your name through a sigh. 

“What?” you answered innocently, loving the way he writhed against your bed just to feel more of those vibrations in all the right places. You had him right where you wanted him, under your complete control, and maybe you got too into that, taking his moment of submission to get a step above him, “Bet she doesn’t even know how to treat you…how to really take dick. She probably just lays there.” 

He repeated your name firmly as if trying to get you to stop but his tone sounded much more pleasurable than annoyed thanks to the toy tucked inside him. 

Your finger trailed down the length of his dick slowly, taunting him, “I’m right here, I could just sink down on your big thick cock so easily.”

He whimpered your name again, sinking his nails into your thighs faintly with his legs spread wide on either side of you. 

“Your poor dick just wants some attention, look at him, he’s so swollen and angry.” you pouted innocently as you wrapped your hand around it to lift it up off his abdomen and gave him a few faint strokes. “So yummy.” 

He groaned your name shakily once more. 

You stroked his dick slowly and tauntingly, drifting your gaze up to his face again to note how his expression withered from the vibrator still buzzing away inside him, his cheeks pink and eyebrows furrowed prettily. With a sultry smile, you asked him, “Doesn’t my pretty angel want to know what a good pussy can feel like?”

“Ohh-“ George whined, staring right back at you from where he was draped against your bed and plentiful pillows. 

“My perfect boy deserves a real woman. Gotta know what one feels like at least once in your life.” 

“Mm-“ George’s hips ground upwards and in doing so he thrusted into your hand the slightest bit. He grabbed your thighs tighter, especially as your hand started to twist your motions over the thick shaft of his cock. His eyes were a little glassy with lust and he kept licking and biting his lips impatiently for more of that addictive pleasure. 

“Don’t you wanna feel how tight and warm my pussy is for you?” you asked softly, pulling his hand between your legs and under the purple dildo and leather harness so his fingers grazed over your wet folds, “I’ll let you fuck me raw so you can feel every little inch of it. All for you.”

“Oh my God.” George breathed shakily, his voice trembling, “You’re so wet.”

“Thanks to you.” you replied smoothly. “You wanna feel it? Want me to sink down on this perfect fucking cock of yours so you can get a taste of what a real woman can do?” 

George literally whimpered at the mere thought, trying to keep himself composed despite the intense vibrations that were still sending warm shockwaves through his body. He gaped up at you behind furrowed brows, digging his heels into the mattress to try and work through the pleasure that was building inside him. Still stroking his cock with one hand while the other forced him to get a feel of how soaked and ready you were for him, you didn’t let up no matter how much he groaned and squirmed, even when he reached his free hand to try and grab your wrist to slow you down. 

“Answer me.” you ordered, stroking his cock faster. “Yes or no? Do you want my pussy?”

“Yes.” George squeaked, “Yes, mommy, please, I want it.” 

You shoved his hands away from your body completely and he held them obediently in mid-air as you tossed one leg over his lap and then his other and he watched you with wide eyes, grinding down against the bed as the vibrator hit all the right spots. With a gentle slap to his cheek, you then shoved two fingers in his mouth past his parted lips and he gagged around them slightly but didn’t protest. 

“That’s my good fucking boy.” you praised through your teeth. “Letting me use you like my little toy, huh?”

“Yes, ma’am.” George spoke through your fingers and his hands took to your hips, his once obvious hesitation was replaced with horny impatience as he tried to pull you down on him. 

“Such an impatient little slut.” you tisked. “Hold your dick for me and beg for it.”

George reached down to grab hold of his cock and he angled it up for you as you hovered above him at just a distance for him to graze the head between your slick lips. It was hard to stay focused with the vibrator still buzzing inside him but he kept wanting more, more, more…so he obeyed you, speaking his desires through your fingers still in his mouth, “Please, miss, I want your pussy. I want your perfect little pussy on my dick so fucking bad. Let me be your toy…wanna be a good boy for you.” 

The moment you sank down enough to let the head of his cock slip inside the tight confines of your cunt, his eyes literally rolled. He moaned heavenly through your bedroom, drooling around your fingers, and he grabbed your waist to try to slow you down. But you were a woman on a mission after having waited so long for that exact moment that you didn’t have an ounce of patience. He was so big that the stretch ached between your legs and over your hips and you had to pull your fingers from his mouth to set your hands down flat against his shoulders to support yourself through it, digging your nails into his toned skin. 

“Oh my fucking God.” George whimpered, peering down his naked body to watch how his dick disappeared inside you, “You’re so fucking tight.”

“What do you say?” you asked sternly as your ass met his thighs and you were stuffed full of him, pinching his cheeks in your hand.

“Thank you, miss.” George responded shakily. 

Drunk on your unbelievable ability to convince him to engage in such adulterous acts, you used the leverage from his shoulders to start to bounce on his lap. His hands found your waist again with a tight groan that fell from his chest and his face screwed up in ecstasy. 

“Thank you.” he repeated, strained and pretty. 

With the harness still strapped securely around your hips, the firm jelly dildo bounced in the air in time with your motions and the clap of your skin against his was arguably the best thing you had ever heard. You swore you could feel the reverberations of the vibrator up through his balls and cock and deep into your cunt but maybe that was just you trembling with adrenaline and lust, overwhelmed with the reality of your situation. He was so big inside you and the balance between that and the relief of finally getting what you wanted brought honest tears to your eyes.

He sounded even better when you rode him than when you pegged him: a beautiful symphony of lustful groans and adoring whimpers and intense breaths that only showed your hold over him if nothing else. 

He was a mess of ‘oh my God’ and intelligible sounds that had your pussy gripping tighter around him naturally, forcing his head to toss back against the pillows as he gripped your hips pleadingly and dug his nails right into your skin. The sharp pinch of his grip only spurred you on, desperate to make him completely lose himself to you like he never had before. It seemed to be working too because soon he was growing quieter and his face was spread with ecstasy, barely able to keep his eyes open, and you could feel his cock throbbing inside you. 

“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum.” he whimpered. 

“Already?” you taunted, sliding a hand around his throat to pin his head down against the pillows to choke him a little, keeping up your dizzying bounces, “Filthy boy. Wanna cum inside me?”

“Oh, God, yeah, can I?” he withered as if he had been hoping for it but afraid to ask. 

“Of course, baby boy. I’d love for you to cum in me.” you cooed, “Show me who I belong to. Fill me up.”

George’s hands on your hips yanked you right down on him and held you there, his biceps bulging as he held you against your attempt to keep going but he certainly was stronger than you. With a trembling moan and eyes rolling with pure euphoria, George ground up against you slightly to cum as deep as he could into your dripping cunt. His entire body shuttered and the shower of moans and gasps that spilled from his lips was intoxicating to you. 

“Good boy.” you praised him loudly through his orgasm, unable to hide the beaming grin that spread across your face at the feeling of the first spurt releasing inside you, “Good fucking boy, gimme all that cum. Every last fucking drop is mine.”

“Yes, mommy.” George whimpered tightly, “It’s yours.” 

The buzzing toy was still tucked inside him and, now incredibly sensitive, George winced intensely at the sensation. You reached behind you to get between his legs and turn it up one more notch. 

“Oh shit!” George squealed out, trying to push you off of him as he writhed against your bed. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” 

“Is that too much?” you taunted. 

“Please, miss, I can’t take it!” George stumbled out, how voice wavering and stumbling over his words, falling into a pathetic mess of whimpers and cries. 

“Oh, my pretty angel can’t take all this pleasure, hm?” you lifted up from his lap, letting his dick slip out of you and fall against his thigh, glistening in white cream and your own arousal, and you grabbed his hand to force him to touch you. Your body dripped his cum right back out and onto his fingers and then you wrapped his hand around the dildo still strapped to your body to start to slick it up in his own natural lubrication. 

“I can’t.” George panted through a tight groan, “I fucking can’t, baby.”

You slid off his lap and back between his spread and trembling legs and you grabbed his thigh to flip him over onto his stomach. He moved for you like he weighed nothing, perfectly content in doing whatever you wanted of him even when it felt like so much that he was close to tears. Laying flat on your bed, George ground against your mattress as his arms encircled your pillow again, smothering his moans into the fabric as his legs trembled. You spared him with a click of the vibrator to turn it off and he was gasping with relief to the walls of your bedroom, heaving for air. But you worked quickly to slide the toy out of his ass and barely gave him a second to process the sudden emptiness before you were stuffing him with the strap again. 

George literally mewled at the feeling.

With your legs straddling his, he was kept nice and tight and right away you were starting to thrust into him messily. He whimpered generously and you leaned down over top of him to grab his wrists and pull them out from under your pillow so you could pin them down on top instead, holding him down while your hips shoved roughly against his ass in rhythmic strokes. 

“Oh God.” George whined loudly, bunching his hands into fists from where you had them held. 

The dildo was lubed up in his own cum and you fucked it back into him roughly in long deep strokes that had his eyes fluttering shut in filthy bliss as you fucked the moans from his chest. You were going so hard with it that the bed was starting to hit the wall in time with your thrusts and George’s moans were only getting louder and tighter. 

“Who do you belong to?” you asked strongly, biting your lip at the feeling of his cum leaking back out of you and down your inner thighs. 

“You, mommy.” he answered easily. “I belong to you!”

“That’s right.” you spoke down to him, your voice laced with taunting lust. “That means I can show up to your house in the middle of the night and rip your fucking clothes off and fuck you any time I want, isn’t that right?”

“Fuck.” George groaned pitchily at the threat, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Yeah?” you spoke through your teeth and gripped his wrists tighter, really forcing yourself to fuck him harder with precise curls of your hips in time with each hard jab, “My little slut just wants me to use him whenever I want?”

George cried out shakily, barely getting out an “uh huh” without his voice breaking. His eyes couldn’t stay open and part of you wished you could have a better angle to see his face as you fucked him flat into your bed. He only got louder and although he tried to smother his noises into your pillow, his pleasure was obvious.

“Jesus Christ—” George sobbed out, “You’re hitting my fucking prostate dead fucking on, baby…shit!”

“That’s my good boy.” you smirked to yourself proudly, “Give into it for me. I want you to cum again.” 

George’s large hands flexed stiffly from where you had his wrists pinned down, his fingers stretching out like starfish in need of something to grip onto. 

“Come on, angel, you got one more in you, I know it.” you encouraged, “Show me who really owns you.”

“You.” George choked, quickly followed by some incomprehensible noise that might have sounded to your neighbours like he was in pain but you knew—better than anyone—that it stemmed from nothing but pure, raw, overstimulated pleasure. You had been the only one to ever make him make noises like that after all. He rushed out some incomprehensible sentence in which the only word you could make out was ‘cum’ and then seconds later he was tensing right up around the strap and falling perfectly silent. 

“Good boy.” you praised strongly as he rutted himself against your bed desperately, undoubtedly ruining your sheets in yet another round of cum but you certainly didn’t mind. 

George was gasping and writhing underneath you as you slowed down so as to not overwhelm him too much. It was that balance of pleasure and pain he liked but you never wanted to overstep any possible boundaries. This was close, however. 

You leaned down to kiss his neck and his shoulder and you let his wrists go so you could sit back on your knees and then slowly pull out of him for the last time that evening. His little hum when you left him empty had you caressing his ass tenderly and you kissed the bottom of his spine comfortingly. 

“Such a good boy for me.” you whispered, running your hands up and down his back lovingly to help ease him out of that intense session, “How was that?”

“Crazy.” George exhaled and then let out a tired laugh, “Fuck.”

“Done for today?” you asked. 

He made a move to roll over so you shifted off of him to let him but he grabbed your arm so you couldn’t go far, making one simple request with a tug of the harness around your waist, “Take this off. I want you to sit on my face.”

Your eyes widened in surprise but you didn’t question it, hurriedly unbuckling the leather harness to drop it and the attached dildo to the floor as George scooted farther down your bed on his back, giving you room to soon toss a leg over his head. 

“You sure this is okay?” you asked quietly. 

He was still breathless from your very eventful afternoon but he nodded and grabbed your thighs to guide you down onto his mouth, promising, “Very.”

His eager tongue met the soft skin of your inner thighs first and he licked up the droplets of his own cum that were leaking down, adding open mouthed kisses to the mix just to have you shuttering at the teasing touches of his mouth. He brushed his nose over your pussy first and then guided you a little closer to glide his tongue right between your folds, ending with a little suckle to your clit. You were well past turned on after a full afternoon of pleasing him and ignoring your own ache that he barely had to touch you and you were already so responsive - not to mention that this was the first day he had ever touched you like this. Usually it was always all about him. 

Your hands grasped the headboard with a shaky sigh, almost afraid to look at him as you chose to stare at the wall in front of you instead. George’s tongue helped itself to your body and he started to eat you out sloppily, right away encouraging you to start to rock against his mouth slightly. He moaned against you and pressed his fingers into the flesh of your thighs a little tighter to settle you farther down on his face. You were nervous that you were going to hurt him if you put too much weight on his head but he didn’t seem to care. He seemed insistent that he be taken up entirely by you and your body. 

“Fuck.” George had to pull back to breathe for a second, still breathless from his catered evening, and he kissed your thighs again before speaking up to you, “You still taste so fucking good—maybe even better—with my cum dripping out of you.” 

“Holy shit.” you withered. You could dish the dirty talk but taking it was new and it turned you into a flustered mess. You had only imagined him saying such things to you that now, having it as reality, felt so surreal. 

You finally permitted yourself to look down at him between your legs as he returned his mouth to your pussy, swearing your eyes molded into the shape of hearts at the sight of his big blue eyes staring right back up at you. The very same eyes you fell a little too hard for. It made your stomach erupt in nauseating butterflies and your hand dropped to his soft hair. 

“Oh my God, George.” you moaned greedily, grinding on his face slightly and your hand in his hair aimed to pull him closer. 

He took your hint and tugged you right down on his mouth, nearly smothering himself in your cunt as he ate you out so heavenly and stared right up into your eyes above him. You couldn’t help the moans that tumbled from your lips, slivers tearing up your spine as you felt that unmissable warmth coiling inside you. It had barely been a minute and you were already so close—all too aroused by him and his perfect body to need any further edging. 

The moment that wave of pleasure tore through you, you dropped your second hand from the headboard to grab his hair too, crying his name out perfectly to the walls of your bedroom that wasn’t unlike those nights you found yourself alone. Now, however, he was there to be blessed by the sound of your voice crying out for him lustfully. Oh God, it made his heart race. He knew he was fucked from that moment on. Metaphorically. You had already covered the physically well before. 

When you finally rolled off of him and slumped backwards against the pillow lined headboard yourself, you were breathing heavily right alongside him, letting the silence of your apartment linger between you. Although your curtains were still open, the sun had long since set and you were restored to the faint light of your bedside table lamp, the darkness of the rest of your apartment leaking through your half closed bedroom door. Neither you nor George really knew what to say after all of that. 

Instead of talking about the lines you crossed, you returned to hostess mode, looking over at him laying flat beside you to ask, “Did you need a towel or something? Water?”

He cracked a small smile at your generosity and he looked up at you in return, his hands resting on his bare chest, “Water would be great. I can just use my shirt you apparently claimed as a cum rag earlier to clean myself up.”

“Sorry.” you chuckled. 

He just gave you a little wink as you slunk off the bed to help yourself to the kitchen. You walked through your modest apartment comfortably in the nude and navigated the kitchen by the light of the city lights leaking through the balcony doors in the adjacent living room. When you returned to your bedroom with two glasses of water, George was already back in his underwear and getting himself under the sheets of your bed. 

“What are you doing?” you asked teasingly as you passed him his glass. 

He thanked you before answering, “I wanna cuddle.” 

You would never say no to that. 

“Let me pee and wash the toys and then I’ll come back.” you said. 

“No,” George pouted and reached for you, linking his finger in yours, “Wash the toys in the morning.”

“Okay.” you didn’t need convincing. You leaned in to kiss his nose and then hurried out of the room to the washroom. 

It didn’t take you very long—mostly because you had the boy who had your heart waiting for you in your bed—and soon you were back in your room and pulling on a pair of underwear and stepping over the plentiful used toys that littered the floor before returning to him. George’s water glass was empty but before you could ask if he wanted more, he was holding up your blankets to welcome you in without a complaint. Smiling, you nestled yourself into bed with him and he wrapped you up in his arms. 

Cuddling after hooking up wasn’t new to either of you but it felt heavier this time…like it carried a weight that neither of you could quite place. With your head on his chest, you listened to his strong heartbeat and caressed your thumb over the smooth skin of his waist, holding him close for as long as you were able. 

George interrupted your quiet moment with a stroke of your hair and a quiet, “So…remind me to buy you a new duvet.” 

“Why?” you asked. 

He reached down to pick up the fabric a bit farther down between thumb and forefinger, showing off the messy white stain on the royal blue material, “I kinda…came on it.” 

You snorted and just cuddled closer to him, “That’s okay.”

“It’s okay that you have my cum stain on your bed for all eternity?” 

“Yeah.” you giggled tiredly, “Reminds me of you. And how I am the only one who can make you cry from pleasure.”

“Oh psh,” George scoffed, “I did not cry.”

“Almost.”

“Almost.” 

Under the blankets, you draped one of your legs over his as if needing to feel him as close as possible, making sure he wasn’t going to leave just yet. He had someone to go home to but once he walked out your door, you would be terribly alone. You hated when he left.

A few quiet minutes passed as you both just appreciated the silence and the comfort of each other to ease you out of your tiring afternoon. It was arguably your favourite part of your situationship because it was the time when you could close your eyes and pretend that what you had was real and not just meaningless sex. Even still, despite the selfishness that filled your heart, you knew the real divide of right and wrong. 

“You can’t fall asleep here.” you whispered into the dark room. 

George sighed softly, confessing sleepily against your hair, “I don’t wanna go.” 

“I don’t want you to go either.” you replied. 

“Let me just stay for a few more minutes?”

You leaned your head back against his shoulder to dust a kiss to his jawline, replying easily with a gentle, “Okay.”

Those few more minutes turned into a few more hours and soon you were blinking awake to the bright light of the morning seeping in through the edges of your curtains, not remembering how or when you actually fell asleep. The first thing that you processed was the weight around your middle and the breath against your back and your heart dropped at the realization that George had fallen asleep in your bed and thus never went home to his girlfriend. Your immediate heart drop stemmed from your instinctual compassionate nature but once your heart took over from your brain, you were filled with a little giddy warmth of realization. He had stayed the night…and he had cuddled you all night. 

Even now, with the rise of the sun and the start of a new day, he was spooning you closely and honestly taking up more than half of your bed as if he had chased you to find your body against his again. It was the most glorious feeling to wake up next to him and you truly wished you could have stayed there forever. He was yours in that moment. That’s how you wanted it to stay. 

You lingered there for a little while longer, drifting in and out of a light sleep,  before you had to get up. Logically, you knew it would make the most sense to wake him up but, selfishly, you didn’t want to. You wanted him to stay as long as possible. So you carefully slid out of his arms in exchange for one of your pillows for him to cuddle and he barely stirred at the change, merely sighing in his sleep and tugging the pillow closer. He looked so pretty in the faint morning light and you couldn’t help but brush a hand through his hair and leave a gentle kiss to his head. 

The illumination of his phone screen from the opposite side of your bed curiously drew you over and you peeked at his notifications, seeing dozens of missed calls and double that of text messages from his girlfriend. You silently flipped his phone face down and then slunk out of the room, grabbing your robe before closing the door almost all the way behind you.

You busied yourself with making breakfast, choosing pancakes with fresh fruit to really treat him for the morning after…and also knowing he was going into a long day ahead with his accidental sleepover from last night going to bite him in the butt when he returned home. Part of you wished you could be a fly on the wall for that anticipated fight but at the same time, you were glad to stay away. 

It must have been the smell of breakfast that finally lured George out of bed and into the kitchen and he came out of your room with a panicked expression on his face as he buckled up his jeans in a half hurry. 

“I fell asleep,” he stated the obvious.

“We both did apparently.” you replied, tending to the fresh batch of pancakes sizzling in the pan on the stove. 

“I’m actually fucked. What am I supposed to tell her?” 

There was obvious stress in his voice and you couldn’t help the slight ache in your heart from seeing where his priorities lay. There you were, making him breakfast after a passionate afternoon and evening the night before and the first thing he could say to you was in concern about his girlfriend. You shouldn’t have suspected any differently…you shouldn’t have gotten your hopes up. 

The question was more rhetorical than anything and George hurried past the kitchen to the bathroom to freshen up quickly. You swallowed back your tears and turned off the stove, dumping the last of the pancakes onto the serving plate, leaving the rest of the uncooked batter to thicken and be forgotten about on the counter. Just in the way you felt forgotten by him. 

When he emerged from the bathroom, he was making a beeline for your bedroom again to finish getting dressed, not even sparing you a glance on his way. Every little reminder that you were his second choice no matter the magic that you thought you shared the day before nearly killed you. You stayed in the kitchen, leaning back against the counter and trying to ignore the flashbacks from the previous afternoon as you stared at the spot where he had begged you to fuck him, how he promised you through his bliss that you were all that mattered to him. Lust made people say ridiculous things. 

George returned to the kitchen, completely dressed with his ruined shirt in hand, “Can I borrow a shirt to wear home?”

You lingered in place, knowing that if you made any move to talk or even take a step, you might have cried. The stress on George’s face faltered into more of a worry as he stared at your flushed expression and sad eyes. 

He took a step towards you, “Are you okay?”

You took a small breath and then spoke, “I…made you pancakes.”

His expression softened in realization of his own edge that morning and he walked over to you with a sigh, setting his soiled shirt on the island so he could have both hands free to gently take your wrists, “I’m sorry.”

You stared at his bare chest, not wanting to look him in the eye. 

“Hey,” George slid his hands up your arms and gave your biceps a little squeeze, leaning his head down slightly to try and get into your line of vision, “what’s wrong?”

You sniffled and looked to the side, your voice flat, “Nothing. I can wrap up some pancakes for you to eat on the drive home if you want.”

When you tried to slip out of his grasp, he wrapped an arm around your middle to stop you from walking away. 

“Talk to me. What’s got you all upset? Did I do something?” 

His voice was so soft and gentle and it ripped at your heartstrings with each syllable and you scrunched your eyes shut to try and keep yourself composed. George’s hand rubbed tenderly over your arm, staring at you so insistently with this concern in his gaze that you almost believed. 

“You have to go.” you said as strongly as you could muster. “She’s waiting for you. She’s probably pissed off and waiting for you and you don’t want to keep her waiting any longer than she already has been.” 

“I’m not going until I know you’re okay.”

You took a sharp inhale of breath and finally looked at him for a split second before speaking down to his chest again, “I’m not okay…with any of this.”

His eyebrows furrowed, “With what? Us?”

“With…you.” you mumbled. “With you and her.” 

George just blinked at you for a moment as if he were completely clueless. You thought he was the stupidest man on Earth to have not realized how madly in love with him you were. 

You continued, “I’m never going to be okay with it but it’s just something I’ve had to suck up and deal with so please can you just take a shirt from my closet and your damn pancakes and leave?”

“I don’t want to leave it like this.” George said seriously. 

“Well I dunno what to tell you.” you said tightly, “I just…don’t want to have this conversation right now.”

George stared at you for a beat and when it was realized that you weren’t going to look at him, he took a small step back with a light nod. He hesitated in front of you but then walked around the island and back to your room to find himself a shirt. It made it feel like it was meant to be only more and more knowing you were the same size in height and general build. You swore he was your other half, especially with everything he would tell you between the sheets…only to return to his girlfriend by the end of the night. 

He emerged from your room again wearing an oversized concert shirt from your closet—one of the few shirts in your closet that wouldn’t look solely like it was a woman’s—and you couldn’t help yourself but eye him longingly. He looked so good in your clothes…in your bed…in your apartment. God, you swore he was meant to be yours. The world was unfair. 

You turned away from him to grab a Ziploc bag from the cupboard and you tossed three pancakes into it and zipped it up. He watched you silently and when you held out the baggie to him across the island, he instead walked around it and took it from your hand right beside you. You didn’t look at him. 

“You mean the world to me.” he whispered to you, gently brushing your hair out of your face so he could see you the best he could. “I don’t want to just not see you again. Can we talk later? And fix this?”

You nodded faintly. 

“Okay.” he leaned in to kiss your cheek. 

With a gentle finger, he rested it against your opposite cheek to try and turn your head towards him. You barely offered him a 45° turn with your eyes still downcast but, regardless, he pressed a feather soft kiss to your lips. 

“Don’t give up on me yet, please?” he spoke softly, resting his forehead against the side of your head, “I need you.” 

You raised a hand up to slide your fingers through his soft hair at the nape of his neck, holding him there for a few more moments before you would let him slip away and into the arms of someone who didn’t deserve him. 

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[thewertsearch]

GG: Sometimes your sense of humor seems more impenetrably advanced than your robotics. I'll never understand this tapestry of irony you weave. GG: Maybe I'm just stuck in the dark ages of pranksterism with my funny mustaches corny old joke book. […] TT: We come from different traditions. Someone needs to keep that racist southern asshole's legacy alive. TT: There's dignity in taking up the work of our familial predecessors, even if what they did was insanely fucking stupid. GG: Is that a note of bitterness directed at your superstar brother I am detecting?

Lest we forget, Dave managed to turn Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff into a movie, this time around.

...hey, wait a second. In the original timeline, Dave Prime was inspired to make SBaHJ after a conversation with Terezi - one that can't possibly have happened on this iteration of Earth. Is Guardian Dave's knowledge of the comic another example of inter-self memory bleed?

TT: I've also told you he isn't my real bro even though I call him that. We're related through an esoteric process of genetic reamalgamation.

Lil' Bro knows about the Veil, a piece of Sburb lore that even Jake - who truly believes Jade is his grandmother - isn't privy to. I suspect he's getting some of his intel from Roxy, who has access to a copious amount of lore via her Seer mother.

The Sufferer, as far as I can tell, was capable of directly accessing the memories of his pre-Scratch self. If Guardian Rose's Seer abilities are analogous to his, then she theoretically has access to all the information that our protagonists do, via Rose Prime's perspective.

...come to think of it, there's no reason why she wouldn't be able to read the memories of an older Rose Prime, from later sections of the comic. Guardian Rose might just be one of the most clued-in characters in the entire setting.

GG: I dunno. Call me a simpleton, but I just like funny jokes. TT: Can't fool me. You take your shit as serious as I do. TT: And if I wasn't serious about it, I wouldn't have made you that rabbit. Then where the hell would you be? GG: Well, aside from thousands of dollars in corpse-repair richer, I can't say. TT: Has he been sleeping in the old man hollow again? Shit, that's adorable. GG: I can think of cuter places for him to sleep, frankly! TT: Yeah, bullshit. TT: He's just being instinctive. In the wild, he would gut a carcass and sleep inside for warmth, as well as to secure tactical advantage for ambushing would-be scavengers. GG: Oh, please.

I actually really like the dynamic between these two; they play off each other excellently, and it's the most comfortable conversation we've seen between any of the B2 kids thus far.

Their relationship has a lot in common with the John/Rose friendship - but Bro's noticeably less serious than Rose, and Jane's just a little bit spikier than John. There's synergy here.

GG: Anyway, property damage and desecration to cherished elders aside, Mr. Bear has been a lovely addition to the family. TT: You haven't renamed him yet? […] TT: You've got to fucking rename him. Or change him to a girl if you want. That was important.

That's extremely important. Take it from me.

[lexicorp]

Here to politely request your version of the Seeker Boys lore 🙏, if you feel so inclined as to share

[i got distracting doodling the sillies but i am /so/ inclined sdfnwifb]

So FIRST! we got Starscream! (youngest)

as you can see, he absolutely has his shit together :>

When it comes to his mentor Cryak, I tend to think of this fic by zeropro which i def recommend. After separated himself from her, he found himself enlisting in the Elite Guard of Vos. He quickly rose in the ranks, and met Thundercracker and Skywarp there, where the three rose up together as Starscream became the leader of the guard, much like in TF1. Overtime, the essentially police work, and monotonous servitude to the Primes got Starscream antsy. He didn't like how they were dismissed and given all the shit jobs the prissy higher ups didn't want. So, he decided to try and get into the Academy, since his time with Cryak had instilled an interest in such scientific endeavors. He managed to get in, juggling school and his work. He also met Skyfire of course (I wont delve too much into that part cuz it'd get p long-), aaaaand it was going great, with exhibitions to other planets in search of energon and possible settlements. But then on one to Urth back in da day, Skyfire was lost to the storm, and Starscream was forced to return without him despite his efforts. He was expelled from the school because of this on the basis of negligence essentially (they were itching for a reason to kick him out).

All that leads to when the next time he goes to a gladiator fight with warp and thunder to see the self proclaimed Megatron (prev D-16) in the ring as they often did, when Megs began his speech about how the system with the miners is screwed up, prejudice running rampant, and how shit needs to change: Starscream starts getting hella deep into that shit. Cuz he's pissed af now. He started meeting with megatron and openly supporting him as he was still the leader of the Elite Guard. Funding campaigns and giving information. This behavior got him flack from biches like Sentinel (more passive aggressive cuz that hoe had his own plans), and also the Primes, who were convinced that the system they had was necessary and tried to talk to him many times and when he tried to convince /them/ to change shit and set up mtgs for Megs, they wouldn't rlly listen (or their compromises were mediocre).

At that point in the lore, Megs and Star had an actually pretty good relationship for the most part. Even if Megs often prioritized Orion and their plans, and often would twist stars advice to make it sound like he had actually come up with it (Star brushed those things aside cuz he did admire Megatron and felt he had more right to organize this front from his background. His aft got gaslit and gaslit himself fr fr).

Star, Warp, and Thunder were generally on the same page then too. Warp hella down for usurping the government, and Thunder riding the high of his brothers' energy and wanting to support them.

Then, whole shit goes down of Sentinel and his accomplice assassinate the Primes (is framed as an accident and he tries to come back like oh yeah, I'm in charge now, so sad, much mourning). Starscream suspects it was bullshit, and he and Megatron plan to murder dat bich. Orion is against it of course, but follows them to continue to try and convince them to stop. How it ends, is Megatron gutting sentinel, and attempting to take the mattrix from him, but it denies him and chooses orion, which pisses him off. (detailing that would bleed more into Megs lore soo anyway-) Starscream was honestly like "wtf", and just follows Megatron out when Prime tells them to leave.

Then it goes into the war era, with Megatron rallying the Decepticons into a full ass force and announcing his plans to fuck shit up, and challenging Optimus. This is when Star and Meg's relationship starts going to shit. things get progressively worse and worse through the war, as Starscream is listened to less and less, and they get into fights often. This then starts reflecting onto his relationship with his brothers. At first, Starscream was decent at coming to them to rant or ask for assistance, but as Warp would show favoritism to Megs, and Thunder would tell him to just play it safe instead of starting fights, Starscream got more and more distant and bitter.

Oh! Also theres the fun Outlier factor where I imagine Star's is like super healing coded. Has a high ass damage threshold and very energy efficient (which can lead to him forgetting to fuel). The extreme end of this ability activates upon death, where his spark will hard deny separation and jumpstart his aft to life again and will try its best to heal his frame back to a functioning level. (which is rlly how he survived the shit that killed Skyfire) [bit about his optics]

***

Then there's Thundercracker (middlechild-)

He didn't exactly have much of a Mentor, per say. He was onlined specifically for the Elite Guard, and was just guided by his superiors and expected to just figure it out and follow orders. He had his love for writing for a long time, and often uses it as a form of escapism. He also loves to critique movies and shit. Loves musicals-

He and Starscream actually initially bonded over this when Star had asked about it and showed interest, which not many others besides Skywarp had. Thunder would script-write little plays, and Starscream would always claim the lead role. Those were coveted nights in the prewar era for Thundercracker. Where they would practice, brainstorm improvements, screw around, and maybe have some high grade. It made him truly feel like he was a part of something, when so often before warp and star, he'd been alone in his passions just going along with the motions.

Thundercracker found the Gladiator fights, that Warp introduced them to, fascinating more than anything. He enjoyed the hype and community that came with it, although did find the premise unsettling. So when Starscream started working with Megatron, and the whole rising revolution shit, he was like, "oh yeah, that sounds cool". He honestly perceived it with more anime optics, tfe hashtag ass processor over here, as he thought the idea of rising up and bringing the world into a new age was awesome! He wasn't a fan of being "just" a seeker of the Guard, he wanted to be a famous writer, and he thought that whole thing could be the way to make that a reality.

Alas, it all went to shit. The war started, and he felt like everything was falling apart. Starscream had started to get more aggressive, and dismissive. Skywarp was all guns blazing for the blowing up everyone who stood in their way, but thundercracker just...didn't see how a war was going to fix things. he didn't understand why megs and orion fell out, and why optimus wasnt on their side. or why they were fighting instead of fixing things since it seemed like they had just gotten rid of their main obstacles.

Thunder became more disconnected himself as time went on. smothering himself in his art as much as he could. Maladaptive daydreaming for dayz baybe-- He's overall hella frustrated, and just wants things to get better, but doesn't know how, and is just back on the go with the flow grindset.

His tendency to disappear annoys the hek outta screamer. Especially when thunder doesnt tell him where tf he vanishes too when it comes to the Earth era (Thunder meets this human farmer fam, and constantly visits to hang out with their doge Buster.)

***

last but not least, there be Skywarp (oldest)

Their Mentor was a scientist interested in researching Outliers. His earlier cycles were cooped up in labs, doing test after test after test. She hates that shit. Alot- Even joked at Starscream to "not become one of /those/ stiffs" when he'd gone to the Academy. When it came to joining the Elite Guard, it was a helluva an improvement to them, although adored any amount of freedom from the drab parts of the job by hanging with friends and trinemates. Adrenaline junkie and craves /all/ the stimulation.

They love graffiti, makeup/framepaint, and dancing. Would often do cover doodles for Thundercracker's stories, and helped choreograph shit. They /love/ drama, but only when it doesn't get too serious. They have fun with banter, brotherly ragging on each other, aaaand of course pranks. Theyre an absolute menace, but fiercely loyal to those they get close to (starscream would debate that fact when it comes to megatron-).

Skywarp was the first to introduce her bros to Gladiator lore Megatron. They idolize the guy, /heavily/. Which makes things difficult down the road when ol megs starts getting hella questionable, but they don't see it. They still view him the same way thru it all, and couldn't believe starscream's complaints as things deteriorated. Skywarps tendency to believe megs over star, ultimately is what starts driving them apart. Even if Skywarp still tries to bring them together again. They'll often try to rope star and thunder into their shenanigans, and petty schemes against the bots. Occasionally, it works. While others, he just gets an audial full about being immature.

Overall, they thrive in the chaos, but wishes the gang would get back together, and is hella salty about it. But being a silly goofy lad is the best coping mechanism lmao

[ghostgirl101]

Being In A Relationship With Feyd-Rautha Would Be Like This...

A/N: Yes yesss, I'm back from the deepest depths of the dead, finals kicked my ass earlier but now its almost october and I'll burn any exam paper I see from this moment onwards 😀 don't even question why I used this gif, it pretty much summarises the whole headcanon lmao🖤so enjoy it and lmk if you want to be added to the taglist thing at the end. Keep in mind that requests are not open currently, as I'm catching up with ones already in my inbox for Dune and other dark fandoms.

Warnings: Kind of dark themes, mid violence.. it's Feyd Rautha, idk what to tell you 😐

Next Week's Fanfic: Headcanons for a love triangle between you, Feyd-Rautha and Paul Atreides 😎😎

☠︎︎• You got yourself into some weird territory with this one 😵‍💫

☠︎︎• If you're expecting any semblance of stability and pure romance, then I'd turn and run for the Dunes to find Paul instead, because this Harkonnen doesn't have an ounce of level sanity in him, and the amount of spiking tension you'll have to cope with on a daily basis is enough to give anyone a literal heart attack 💀💀

☠︎︎• My guesses are that you were introduced to Feyd-Rautha as either a pretty young Bene Gesserit girl chosen to weave her way into his life to continue the bloodline, or he liked the look of you when he was off-world in one instance to look over Spice production with his uncle, and took you back as a trophy because he liked the look of you. So lucky you. 🙃

☠︎︎• This boy is an absolute sadist and an unpredictable unhinged mess, so there's a lot to get used to, and even when you do get used to things, it could all flip and spin just as quickly. It would take a hell of a time to truly understand Feyd-Rautha enough to predict him one hundred per cent and longer to have his trust that you won't run off or try betraying him.

☠︎︎• There's definitely a kind of dangerous allure to him that he uses to his advantage, a smug grin on his face when he enters the arenas, most likely to make kills in your name. It wouldn't be a massive surprise if you became some figure in Giedi Prime to sacrifice the dead to, like some kind of goddess of the kill (ik that sounds dramatic as hell, but i see it happening .-.)

☠︎︎• Feyd-Rautha is absolutely not used to the concept of looking out for anyone other than himself, or feeling anything close to respect and love for anyone other than himself. So the relationship he forces between you and him is a shaky and slow-burning bond that works in its own weird ways and quirks, and adapts to him and him only, so there are a lot of adjustments to be made on your end. Because even though Feyd isn't sensitive in the general sense, he's majorly unpredictable, and one wrong word could set him off. Just, tread carefully in the early days.

☠︎︎• If you want affection in any other way than corpses and bruising hickies, it may take a little while, because he has no idea how to pull that kind of gentleness off, and doesn't necessarily want to either. But if it's something that'll get you to submit to his hold over you more, then he'll come round to it, and when there's absolutely no one else in the area, you might get some actual, genuine passion, though there's always a part of it mixed in with some darker conflict in him.

☠︎︎• If you want attention from him, you've got it anyway. Feyd has his own form of attachment, pretty much an obsession, but it's always tangled in with his desire to dominate and possess. It's a suffocating relationship and tipped-scales dynamic, and the only way you can really get him to see your side of things is by wording it in ways that'll make it sound like it was his idea in the first place, and that the reason is because it'll feel better for him.

☠︎︎• Needless to say, if you're a little firmer and have a dark side to you (i'll make a safe bet that you do if you want this guy x_x) this Harkonnen is a thrill seeker to the extreme, someone always looking to feel something new and raw and insatiable, like the sharpest peaks of ecstasy and adrenaline, so will he try out new stuff with you even though it sounds mental and freaky and dangerous? That's a rhetorical question.

☠︎︎• Despite all the bloodshed and his ruthless havoc in the arenas, taking lives and living for the pain of it, believe it or not, Feyd is actually vulnerable in the least suspecting way. He doesn't have an emotional connection with anyone, because he's an unhinged psycho amongst a crowd of pale unhinged psychos who expect nothing less (and.. have you watched the film?? It's confirmed that this dude has mummy issues, so... i'm just saying, look at this hc's front gif 😏)

☠︎︎• If we're talking romance and affection, just think intense. Intense intense intense, because that's the best way to describe it. His hugs are breathtakingly tight and forcefully smothering, and he doesn't kiss, he full-on makes out with you. Public or not doesn't matter, it's just an opportunity to mark you as his in front of an audience, and he'll gladly perform, so suck up your shyness.

☠︎︎• Thinking of pet names, I see Feyd-Rautha calling you either by just your true first name and having everyone else address you just by your general title, or using other typical nicknames he'd use with satisfied smirks and lingering looks. Maybe his dearest darling, because you're higher than the pets he feeds and used before you (apparently they're called harpies??!? idk what the heck lol) I don't see him saying my love or honey unless he's just being a jackass in an argument, because I'm betting my life savings this boy only eats bitter things, and he sure as hell can't define love like you can.

☠︎︎• Feyd comes across as pretty dominant in everything he does, which is right, and even if it's you questioning him, he'll throw a dangerous fit that escalates within a second no one sees, so, again you have to be clever with the way you word things. You physically and mentally cannot be independent with Feyd-Rautha, because he'll break that spirit right out of your soul. Would he physically hurt you? Not badly, no, but just don't push him, because he'll lash out without a second thought in the moment of impulse.

☠︎︎• Again with the independence, another thing that stops you from getting any is how absolutely suffocatingly obsessive he can get, which turns on his possessiveness. You're essentially an extension of himself, something that's peaceful and pure and perfect in so many ways he'll never understand and will always pull your mind apart to try to. So if any other skulking Harkonnen looking to impress you by challenging Feyd himself or devoting a kill in the arena to you, has immediately chosen the slowest, most humiliating death, that you'll probably be tied down to watch -_-

☠︎︎• And if he can tell in even the smallest way that you're drawn to someone aside from him, there's a chance you'll be kept locked up in his chambers for a month or two with no servants, nothing breathing at all permitted to trespass except him, until he's satisfied and you have him wrapped around your finger again. And that means you can get him to do practically anything if it benefits him and draws you closer, like a kill.. to maybe even destroying a whole planet, it's not impossible for him. Once he has his mind set on something, he's a hunter, he's found his target, and he'll go wild until he destroys it.

☠︎︎• He's protective in the way that he will not let you die, or get hurt in any way by any person other than him. If another Harkonnen draws your blood in the tiniest scratch, or hurts your feelings in some way, Feyd will use that as an excuse to wring their necks. You're his to look at and admire and dress up and be close to and make you feel things, so anyone else daring to step up beside you will get knocked down and fed to his darlings. The only time you'll actually see him being doting and surprisingly, cautiously gentle is when he's healing a wound without the audience of any nurses or outside help, an uncharacteristic and uncomfortable silence in the air as he concentrates and gets you back to rights.

☠︎︎• The moments where he'll allow himself to be truly close to you go unspoken, like in the cold hard nights of Geidi Prime, where he pulls you up from your bed and tugs you down the short dark corridor to dump you in his own instead, with nothing else but the need to feel smotheringly close to someone who understands how his mind works. You'll remind him of his mother, and that's all good, so long as you stay by him and with him always, because if you take the opportunity to turn and run, don't let him catch you in the act. There's a 50/50 chance he'll keep you in his rooms for the rest of the relationship, or just straight-up kill you and take in your memories and mind to possess you that way ._.

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Next Week's Fanfic: Headcanons for a love triangle between you, Feyd-Rautha and Paul Atreides 😎😎 ⊹˚₊‧───────────────────────────────────────────‧₊˚⊹

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added to this for my future Dune fanfics): @milaeth @ennycutie @nckcn @void21 @leighta @williamtt33 @deathsimp @tatumrileyslover @beebumbo @the-dark-dreamer25 @lilepad @skboo @keicdcat @1950schick @reggiesmoon @velosrantipole @yoonessa @anonymjuni @saturnhas82moons @xlxnq @frickyea-guacamole19 @meowmeeps @chalklate

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DUNE MASTERLIST ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆ MAIN MASTERLIST

[quixotical-lymbo]

Goes on my knees to beg for a D-16 or Orion Pax x smaller autobot reader— where they’re more picked on by the guards for their height and uselessness, so he stands up for them and such. Like a big protector for the reader (it can be any gender!)

Pairing: D-16 x gn!small-framed!Reader Rating: SFW Summary: When you're a small bot working in the mines, it's difficult to keep up with your much larger than life miners. However, there's always a bot in your corner. Warnings/Tags: Again, SPOILERS YALL, Headcanons, cybertronian reader, fluff, and slight angst.  Word Count: 1000+ words 

How you two met

🟡 When his team was gaining a new member,  D-16 met you for the first time

🟡 You were…tiny to say the least and he wondered how or why you were working in a dangerous place 

🟡 With your helm barely reaching his midsection plating and bright-eyed look, he didn't even give you a day before you'd buckle under the horrors of the mine 

 Becoming friends…?

🟡 It wasn't intentional and purely accidental, but he ended up eavesdropping on your conversations with the other miners in the group. It was the moment your intake spilled the name of a Prime he's admired so much did he finally join the convo. 

🟡 Yet…this convo turned into a heated debate about how cool or uncool Megatronus is. You took the side of uncool while D-16 took a stubborn defense of his favorite Prime. 

🟡 Since then, whenever the two of you crossed paths it always ended with butting helms or mumbling insults under your breaths. 

Helping each other

🟡 One moment you were carefully extracting energon from a hard-to-reach vein when a rumbling caught your attention

🟡 Screams and shouts of a cave collapsing caused you to panic as you struggled to squeeze out of the shaft you were in

🟡 You were one servo out when you felt a bigger one envelop yours and yanked you free. 

🟡 It was hard to see when your optics were squeezed shut and you were forced against a chassis as whoever saved you kept running until you both were out

🟡 It was D-16? 

🟡 "...thanks."

🟡 "Don't mention it. Like…ever." 

🟡 "But…"

🟡 "Didn't I say-" 

🟡 "You're still holding my servo." 

🟡 He ripped away from you like you burned him as his faceplate was set ablaze 

🟡 You could be heard giggling behind him as he scrambled to get away

Protecting each other 

🟡 Perhaps something happened to cause Darkwing to be up your aft, but whatever the reason was D-16 felt that you didn't deserve being pushed around and yelled at

🟡 The last straw was seeing Darkwing, quite literally, snatch you up and bark insults in your face

🟡 He was hesitant to step in until he noticed your shaky plating and teary optics.

🟡 Placating Darkwing wasn't easy and D-16 earned a scolding and harsh jab to the side of his helm, but it was worth since he managed to get you away from the taller mech

🟡 You smiled at him and mouthed a thank you. 

🟡 He returned the smile with a grin of his own.

Your dynamic with his other friend, Orion Pax 

🟡 Polite and simple

🟡 Nothing really much to say, you usually encounter him if he's hanging off of D-16 

🟡 Sometimes the two of you engage in petty banter about D-16's love for Megatronus, other times it's to vehemently deny Orion's accusation of your feelings toward his best friend

🟡 When this happens, D-16 is confused when comes back to you chasing after a laughing Pax 

Nicknames 

🟡 Oh boy, he called you all sorts of things (especially before you two were cool with each other). From pipsqueak to scraplet, D-16 had a range of short-related nicknames to call you.

🟡 You called him D sometimes, even called him Big D once and it felt…wrong for some reason. So, you stuck with D.

Friends…?

🟡 You silly frenemy relationship with the silver mech grew warmer overtime 

🟡 Still, it was weird to call him a friend…he was more of a…coworker you wouldn't mind sticking to if you had to be partnered up

🟡 For D-16, he somewhat felt the same way, but something in his spark was telling him otherwise. It didn't help that a certain blue and red mech kept teasing him with fake googly optics whenever you and him were standing near each other. 

🟡 It was extremely awkward for a few chords (days) until another incident with Darkwing brought the two of you closer together. 

🟡 That incident involved getting scolded again, but instead of D saving you, it was you saving him by taking the fall

🟡 The two of you were in the med bay talking with each other. Intimate whispers and breathy laughs were exchanged. That night, the coldness between you two melted into a closer bond.

🟡 Then, he and Pax were nowhere to be found after the Iacon race. 

Dynamic after the events of the movie 

🟡 You didn't see D-16 for a while until he returned and…he's changed. 

🟡 It was one thing learning that your entire existence was a lie set up by a figure you once looked up to, but witnessing a mech you secretly admired turn into the very thing you were horrified by was…you couldn't even process the emotions that surged within you.

🟡 After receiving a cog, you can decide to follow D-16, or Megatron as he named himself, or stay. 

🟡 If you decided to follow after Megatron, expect his suspicion and lack of trust in your desire to join his cause. However, it doesn't take long for you to worm your way into his spark when you speak passionately about his cause and his goal to rule over Cybertron without him needing to corrupt you himself. Whether or not the previous feelings from before his change into the mech he is now is uncertain. Megatron is too busy with rallying troops/re-establishing the pecking order and you're left figuring out how to be of service to him. Only time can tell. 

🟡 If you decide to stay, you'll never see D-16 again. Only rare glimpses of Megatron from a distance. 

😼 - I do not give permission for anyone to translate, copy, republish, or plagiarize any of my written works. I provide no permission for any of my literary works to be used in artificial intelligence. banner(s) by @kodaswrld !!

[hoiststowline]

Hello, I have been reading your Ultra Magnus fic and I must say that is amazing, I love it so much.

Can I request a one-shot for TP Ultra Magnus where the team Prime and the kids don't understand the relationship the femme reader has with him? Likes she loves him and shows it but the rest are just confused how he managed to get into that relationship.

Thank you!

[a/n: hi! thank you so much!! i kinda did it in a headcanon format, i hope that's okay!!]

ultra magnus x reader

i think at first, many of them think it's platonic. they still don't understand why you choose to hang out with him, but to each their own. if you're happy, and Ultra Magnus is, there's really no point in drawing attention to the subject. they're confused, because it's likely that your personalities may clash up to a point, but you always shrug your shoulders and say "opposites attract,"

they have good reason to believe it's platonic, because there is no evidence that either of you are romantic, at least in public. in group settings, Magnus always stands behind you, arms crossed over his chest and looking stoic as ever, unapproachable. while you are compassionate and easy to talk to in comparison, friendly and agreeable. just at that glance, one could suppose that Magnus was immensely protective over you, but the assumption would end in the fact he never showed affection.

but the way he talks to you is another story. he calls your name with a fondness, a gentleness that strays from his infamous personality. team prime, if any are in earshot, would exchange a few glances of surprise, and then confusion. they'd come to realize that you always are attached at the hip, but he was without fail much nicer to you than anybody else. he wasn't rude to others, more-so stern, but you never seem to be at the end of that, doting even.

if anyone were to decipher your romantic relationship, it would be a hot topic. if Ultra Magnus had his way, it would remain private and behind closed doors. Optimus would be the first to know, as Magnus would never not tell him, but he didn't want the unnecessary target on your back. he would talk it over with you first, he isn't in charge in this setting, but you propose doing whatever he feels is best. you want him to be comfortable, and that's the most important thing to you.

i think Smokescreen and Wheeljack would be the most surprised. others have been around long enough to have put the pieces together, but it was either an acknowledgement of the fact, or it didn't really stick. Magnus doesn't understand the uproar, but then again it isn't really him they are surprised with. while it doesn't add up to them, it is a perfectly balanced equation to you. Magnus is very attentive and empathetic, so he's a naturally benevolent partner.

it's a slow process for sure, but the moment he realizes his feelings for you it's an immediate standstill. it crosses him first that it likely isn't meant to be, or wouldn't work out in the way he wants him to. after a while, he just tells you, and you instantly open your heart to him. while a lot of them wouldn't understand your dynamic, it doesn't necessarily matter what they presume. they're just happy for both of you and know that Ultra Magnus would never break your heart. he is a ride or die for sure, and he hardly cares what the rest of team prime things in reference to your relationship. (maybe he cares to some degree what Optimus thinks, but it is a conversation based on his reaction to Magnus' proffering).

[pritong-baboy]

I have a personal head cannon that tfa bumblebee can eat batteries n' stuff to like get an extra punch on his stingers and speed and just overall gives him a big power boost, but he doesn't do it often cuz it heats up his frame into a critical state. Only Bulkhead and Ratchet know that Bumblebee can do this (bulkhead because Bumblebee told him and Ratchet because it's on his medical records)

Adding that with your Shockwave AU imagine a bumblebee that is so desperate to leave Shockwave that he eats a battery to get a boost against Shockwave as a way to try and get away. One battery isn't enough to beat him, so he eats another one and that heats up his frame way too much and he almost dies. Shockwave ends up needing to save the bumblebee and I wanted to know your thoughts on how this would affect Bumblebees and Shockwave's relationship.

I would think Bumblebee's hope of escaping would get a really big hit as he realized that his greatest weapon against Shockwave ended up not working. I also think that maybe seeing Bumblebee fighting for his life as a way to escape Shockwave would affect him a little bit, either way, I would like to hear your thoughts.

(sorry if the ideas are all kinda messy im not good at explaining my ideas...heh)

what a cool headcanon!! also there is a scene where that kinda happens?? only a bit. it is somewhat related to another ask i had before where bee would go as far as to grievously harm himself in order to get away from shockwave.

the only real difference is that shockwave doesn't know that bumblebee does it in an attempt to get away from him or that he's planning to escape.

but as for how this would affect them. bumblebee would definitely stress out if one of the most effective thing he has against shockwave wouldn't work, but i can immediately see him recovering from that though and just think of something crazier to do. as for shockwave, he would definitely misinterpret bee's actions lmao. he treats every fight that bumblebee starts with him as like a tantrum or something, but i imagine if he sees bumblebee literally almost kill himself, it would spark a different reaction, but not for the correct reasons.

when bumblebee harms himself to near death just to beat shockwave, shockwave would not see it as a fault in him and his treatment of bumblebee, he would immediately turn and think that it is a testament to the faults of the autobot system that bee was raised in or maybe even team prime's fault, but never his own.

[spop-romanticizes-abuse]

i just came by this post and i had to address it.

wow. that is a controversial take. and an objectively incorrect one.

i'll just preface this by saying that i'm not satisfied with arcane's finale either. i think it completely went against its own message in the end, and a lot of the arcs were resolved poorly.

but this take is still wild. let me break it down one by one:

there's nothing wrong with the "power of love/friendship" trope. the only problem is that

1. spop entirely focuses on romantic relationships. fuck familial relationships, fuck platonic relationships, the only thing that matters is romance.

2. most of the ships are either forced with no prior buildup or straight-up toxic.

horde prime as a whole was a poorly written villain who was only introduced because catra and hordak were "redeemed". that alone makes the entire finale weak, because horde prime is not as much of a threat as catra was. he's just a placeholder.

i'm convinced that the only reason they introduced the failsafe and the heart of etheria was because horde prime wasn't intimidating enough to keep the audience captivated.

mara convincing adora to stay alive would have been a touching scene if the message wasn't that adora should date her abusive sister.

i'm sorry, did we watch the same show? because how the fuck can you say that catra is no longer abusive after her redemption after watching all of this???

oh yeah, catra pushing adora to the ground and guilt tripping her for trying to save the world wasn't abusive at all. catra constantly screaming at adora for the smallest reasons isn't abusive, that's just catra's little quirk! /s

you would have to be blind to watch all of these instances of catra continuing to abuse adora, and still think that she has changed.

caitlyn hit vi with her rifle, yes, and I'm not going to defend that at all. i agree that it was completely unwarranted, regardless of her reasons. but caitlyn's actions are nothing compared to catra's.

you can love or hate caitvi, i literally don't care. but you can't hate caitvi for being "toxic" while acting like c//a is a healthy ship.

“catra ceased all intentions of being enemies with adora & glimmer and learned to love & fight for etheria”

oh yeah, that's why she kept taking jabs at the princesses and bragging about how many times she has defeated them. that's why she never apologized to glimmer for killing her mother, or to mermista for colonizing her kingdom. oh wait, mermista was very conveniently chipped so that poor catra wouldn't have to deal with all that, right?

let's be real, the only reason catra sided with adora was because she literally had no other choice. she was backed into a corner. she wanted to work for horde prime but since he was willing to throw her out, and the original horde was in shambles, catra's only choice was to join the rebellion. she does not care for the princesses or for etheria.

“catradora never had a power imbalance and fought pretty equally”

this just made me laugh. did this person even watch the show? catra had power over adora 90% of the time.

there were very few instances where adora had power over catra and usually in those instances, catra would attack adora in some way to bring her beneath her.

again, i have my complaints with caitvi. i don't think it's a perfect ship and i'm not going to defend the shitty parts of it. but catra has literally used every single type of abuse on adora - physical violence, emotional manipulation, gaslighting, guilt tripping, kidnapping, attempted murder, victim blaming - and y'all still think that caitvi is worse? be fucking for real.

five seasons isn't enough screentime to wrap up arcs in a satisfactory manner? come on. spop had plenty of time, the writers just didn't plan everything out. they absolutely did not make the most of what they had to work with.

they had 5 whole seasons and still decided to shove catra's redemption arc into the final one, completely rushing it and for what? so that adora had someone to smooch?

the conflict between glimmer and adora could also have been handled better. it was a complex situation, especially considering how catra and shadow weaver was the ones driving them apart. it shouldn't have been solved with a simple “i'm sorry, everything was my fault” and “lol it's okay we good now” like???

again, i'm dissatisfied with arcane's ending. i think a lot of the character arcs were sabotaged and there was too much going on in general.

but i don't think anything can compare to the character assassination in s5 of spop. everyone magically forgot about catra's crimes and forgave her; capable characters were suddenly incompetent and foolish so that catra could shine; and adora, who had completely moved on from catra, was now once again catra's doormat.

you can criticize arcane if you want but this post was just stupid. spop's final season was just as bad, if not worse than arcane. at least arcane managed to write a believable redemption arc for jinx within those 9 episodes - something spop couldn't do with five whole seasons.

[sober-stupid-shithead]

Had this idea on the mind that Ratchet has to eat a mini!Optimus to warm him up :3 kinda like that time he almost died of cold in the TFP show. So, willing pred, unwilling prey :3c

I hope this inspires you some!!!

👍

WOO! FINALLY FINISHED THIS ONE! I'm sorry it took so long, but I'm preparing to be VERY busy this year. Tysm for the ask though, its a super cute idea :3

I went a little bit emotional with this? Ratchet and Optimus just make me wanna throw up sobbing because I love them so much and their relationship is so complex. I apologize if it's a little out of character for that reason, but I think I did pretty good. Also the prompt behind what got him nommed makes NO sense but just pretend ok 💔 (also healing stomach trope how I love you)

(CW: vore, mild description of robotic injury, unwilling prey, safe/soft)

Ratchet just knew this mission had been a mistake. Too many risks, not enough information. But of course Optimus had insisted, and now look where they were.

They hadn't had enough time to decipher the coordinates of the next relic Megatron was after before it was already too late. In a mad dash to destroy the massive cannon that had been uncovered, Optimus decided to go alone in fear of needlessly endangering his teammates. He had of course instead needlessly endangered himself in the process. He had mass displaced himself to be able to sneak onto the Nemesis and dismantle the weapon from the inside.

Fortunately, despite how stupid the plan sounded it had worked. Unfortunately, Optimus had been found by the Decepticons and only managed to escape via jumping off the ship and down into the tundra plains below. His smaller size had made him much more susceptible to the cold, and his injuries only added to that. He was in near critical condition.

"Bulkhead, out of my way!" Ratchet yelled as he barreled through the base, a tiny Optimus cradled in his arms. He hadn't wasted a second of time once the ground bridge was open. He had a job to do and nobody would get in his way, accident or not.

He laid his leader down on the operating table and quickly swiveled the lamp usually used for surgery close above him, hoping the heat from the light would help keep him warm. He waved his servo over the frozen mech to scan his chassis, and… the injury report wasn't good. His chassis was dented in, several enegon tubes had ruptured, and his body was at far too dangerous of a temperature.

"Ratchet…" The small Prime murmured, optics flickering as his systems were struggling to stay awake.

"Don't waste the energy, Optimus." The medic snapped back, tapping furiously away at his monitor to figure out the best way to deal with all this. As greatly worrisome and dangerous as his injuries were, they were all well within the realm of fixing for a mech as seasoned as Ratchet, the problem was his size. Optimus didn't have the energy to revert his mass displacement, and even if he did he wouldn't be able to while his systems were nearly frozen solid. They needed to heat him up and fast.

For a moment the medic stalled. Nothing in the base would be able to heat Optimus up in time without hurting him. No form of fire would be safe while he was leaking energon, and no entirely safe alternatives were at all close enough to a Cybertronian's internal temperature…

A Cybertronian's internal temperature.

Maybe all was not lost.

He had tried it a few times before when their human allies needed first aid, but he'd never done it to one of his own kind before. There were a lot of preliminary tests that should be run before he could make sure the idea was totally safe, but they didn't have the time. He would just have to try it and see how it went. And ignore how guilty he felt for making an injured Optimus Prime be his test subject.

Ratchet halted his typing and stared at the holoscreen for brief second of hesitation. He sighed with resignation and looked over his shoulder to where his tiny leader lay. "I need to stabilize you as fast as I can so you can revert your mass displacement. Optimus… I'm sorry, but this is for your own good."

He stepped over to the medical slab and scooped him up onto his servos, faceplate creased with worry. He was freezing to the touch and so, so small. It was uncomfortable to see a Prime in such a vulnerable position.

"Old friend… What do you mean?" Optimus said in a soft, raspy voice. It was obvious he was straining to even be heard.

"Just relax, Optimus. You'll be alright." Ratchet hushed, bringing the tiny leader up to his face. He wanted to explain more, but they really didn't have the time. Instead, he simply opened his mouth and gently maneuvered Optimus's pedes onto his glossa. He was so cold that the medic nearly flinched in discomfort, but he didn't stop. He did his very best to be careful when moving such a small, injured body, but he knew it couldn't have felt great. The short moment of shocked silence between the two didn't help his rapidly mounting guilt either.

"Ratchet, I do not-"

Optimus was silenced by two comparatively massive jaws closing around him. Ratchet froze for a second, metaphorically swallowing down his panic and trying his best to not yet swallow down his own Prime. He knew one of the other team members was probably looking on in horror, but he tuned it all out. Only one mech mattered right now. Optimus was so cold against his glossa that it made his denta ache. The medic purposefully increased his oral lubricant production to coat the mech in the warm, protective substance. He could feel tiny servos weakly pressing against the roof of his intake, but he ignored the sign of protest and tilted his helm back.

He didn't want to accidentally make Optimus's injuries worse with the strong metal muscles in his throat, so he simply relaxed and let gravity guide his patient down. It was very strange, but he was mostly used to it. He closed his optics with an exvent of relief, a familiar feeling of protectivness wafting over him as the mini mech slid slowly into his tank. Only when he was sure Optimus had made it far enough to his destination did he swallow the leftover saliva and open his mouth with a sigh. There was another brief second of silence between the two, and a slow dropping sensation let him know Optimus was laying down once again.

"I apologize for doing that without warning, but it was the quickest way to warm you up… I hope you can forgive me." Ratchet murmured, instinctively placing a servo over his middle. He turned on all his internal scanners and flipped on a live feed, keeping the window open in the corner of his vision to keep an eye on how Optimus was handling things.

"It is… Alright." The Prime sighed, too exhausted to even care at this point. He was safe enough to recharge and heal, and that was all his aching processor cared about. Through the feed Ratchet could see him shutter his optics and relax into the soft mesh snugly hugging his frame. The internal fluid levels slowly rose until it was halfway up his shoulders, soaking all his major injuries.

Another massive wave of giddy relief washed through the old medic as he read the readings from the scanners inside his tank. All wounds were sealing off because of the healing agent in his stomach enzymes and his temperature was rapidly rising. In a few hours he would be able to retrieve him for aided mass displacement and surgery. Thank Primus himself.

"D-Did you just… Eat him!?"

Ratchet whirled around in surprise to be met with an even more shocked Smokescreen. He sighed again, this time in exhaustion. Time to explain himself.

[demi-god77]

Saw byler doubt on my tl and I won't have it, so I'm here to try and ease your doubts @lucystark12

(English isn't my first language and I'm currently running on zero hours of sleep. This might be a bit incoherent)

BYLER AND CHARACTER ARCS

First of all, you have to think of this in context to El's character arc as well!

Her arc has always been centered around found family and her own sense of self (the things she lacked for most of her life while she was in the lab, especially since her entire identity was reduced to a number.)

Romantic love (ending the show in a relationship with Mike) would not be beneficial for her arc, as it is not something she lacked prior, she didn't even know what a boyfriend IS when she escaped from the lab. It also sets her back on her path of self discovery (+ she is shown to learn the most about herself when she and Mike are apart).

In an arc about found family, self discovery and independence, forcing her into a relationship that actively separates her from said found family and creates conflict (with Hopper and with the rest of their group), that also doesn't let her figure out who she is, what her interests are and overall stuns her self discovery and independence, would make zero sense. It would not be a progression for her character at all. Especially for someone that has been controlled by others (and men specifically) her entire life.

~~~

About Will now, if his arc was actually about moving on, there was absolutely no reason to make him in love with Mike. All of their conflicts COULD be purely platonic, if their purpose was to signify that he needs to move on/grow up. But they weren't. There would be no reason to make him in love with Mike, he arguably wouldn't even have to be gay for this arc. And yet, his sexuality is mentioned even prior to s1, in the pilot script -clearly important for his character. Him moving on from those feelings would not be beneficial for his arc either, especially since he has already tried to. He has tried to hide from the world, he has tried to repress his feelings and it didn't work out. They even straight up told us he's not able to move on ("[I] need you and [I] always will")

Furthermore, he already believes that his feelings will not be reciprocated, that he needs to let go and that he will never experience a romantic relationship, will never find love. To have him be right does not make for a good story. It sets his storyline back to square one. Him coming into his own and confronting his trauma is definitely a part of his arc, no doubt about that. Moving on from his feelings however, giving up on a love he never let himself believe he could have in the first place, is not.

~~~~

Lastly, Mike himself. I honestly don't really think he has that much of a communication issue. His communication skills are of course not great, they are pretty bad yes, and he obviously struggles with verbally explaining his feelings, but he shows his love through actions and not words. That's something that has been shown since s1 and that's always been how he communicates his emotions. Through actions.

But even so, he has been shown to productively communicate using his OWN words and his OWN feelings before, the shed scene in s2 being a prime example of that (arguably the bedroom scene in S4 as well). His parents' main issue with their relationship is not that they don't communicate imo, it's that they never really loved eachother (and that also ties in to Nancy and her relationship with Steve).

Another thing:

Mike needs to be needed, that's when he feels useful, that's when he feels loved. El is coming into her own, becoming independent, realizing she doesn't need to depend on others, on him. But Will in his monologue confessed that he always will need him, something that will never change.

Moreover, if his arc was truly about learning to communicate effectively, I don't think they would put such emphasis on his insecurities, thinking of himself as inferior and trying to conform. (Also, forcing a confession, especially one based on someone else's feelings would be a horrible writing choice in an arc about self expression.)

Mike actively tries to push aside his nerdy interests and the things he enjoys (who he is) while in the relationship, in order to appear cooler, mature, normal. Pretend he's not himself. THAT is something he gets from his parents. And THAT is not something attributed to bad communication skills, but forced conformity.

And after all, forced conformity is killing the kids.

[david-talks-sw]

More George Lucas debunking misconceptions about the Prequel Jedi:

"Anakin killed the Jedi in retaliation. They failed him, betrayed him and didn't allow him to have a relationship, so he killed them all."

"[In Revenge of the Sith] The controversy is going to be that people expect some horrible, horrific thing to happen to [Anakin] that caused him to [become Darth Vader]. It's much subtler. It's something that everybody faces— when you're looking at yourself, you can see your good and your bad, and say, "Is this a selfish choice or is this a compassionate choice? And once I get something, what would I do to keep from losing it? Would I make a pact with the devil to keep it?" - Entertainment Weekly #785, 2004

"… some of the people had a hard time with the reason that Anakin goes bad. [...] They wanted a real betrayal, such as, "You tried to kill me so now I'm going to try and kill you." They didn't seem to understand the fact that Anakin is simply greedy. There is no revenge." - The Making of Revenge of The Sith, page 188

"The rest of the Jedi have dogmatically forgotten how to love out of fear of having attachments, Qui-Gon is the only one who knows that you can love people selflessly, without getting possessive."

"The fact that everything must change and that things come and go through his life and that he can't hold onto things, which is a basic Jedi philosophy that he isn't willing to accept emotionally and the reason that is because he was raised by his mother rather than the Jedi. If he'd have been taken in his first year and started to study to be a Jedi, he wouldn't have this particular connection as strong as it is and he'd have been trained to love people but not to become attached to them. But he has become attached to his mother and he will become attached to Padmé and these things are, for a Jedi, who needs to have a clear mind and not be influenced by threats to their attachments, a dangerous situation." - Attack of the Clones, Director’s Commentary, 2002

"Obviously, it’s a progression. But in [Attack of the Clones], you begin to see that he has a fear of losing things, fear of losing his mother. And as a result, he wants to begin to control things, he wants to become more powerful. And these are not Jedi traits. And part of this is because he started to be trained so late in life, that he had already formed these attachments. And for a Jedi, attachment is forbidden. You can love people, but you have to love them unconditionally, in terms that you can’t hold on to them." - CNN, “Countdown to the Clones”, 2002

"The Jedi are trained to let go. They're trained from birth. They’re not supposed to form attachments. They can love people - in fact, they should love everybody. They should love their enemies; they should love the Sith. But they can't form attachments. So what all these movies are about is: greed. Greed is a source of pain and suffering for everybody. And the ultimate state of greed is the desire to cheat death." - The Making of Revenge of The Sith, page 213

"Ultimately for a Jedi Knight, it’s very easy to give up. One of the things they give up is marriage. They can still love people. But they can’t possess them. They can’t own them. They can’t demand that they do things. They have to be able to accept the fact, one, their mortality, that they are going to die. And not worry about it. That the loved ones they have, everything they love is going to die and they can’t do anything about it." - Celebration V, Main Event, 2010

"The Jedi in The High Republic are the Jedi in their prime/heyday. By the time of the Prequels, they've become political and dispassionate/prohibitive."

"[In Phantom Menace] you see the heyday of the Jedi, when they are the guardians of peace and justice in the galaxy, sort of like the old marshals out West. And there's thousands of them." - Vanity Fair, 1999

"We've actually never seen real Jedi at work, we've only seen crippled half-droid half-men, and young boys that had learned from these old people. So to see a Jedi in his prime fighting in the prime of the Jedi, I want it to be a much more energetic and faster version of what we've been doing." - The Phantom Menace, “Fights”, 2001

"Jedi Knights aren't celibate - the thing that is forbidden is attachments - and possessive relationships." - BBC News, 2002

"[When Obi-Wan talks to Anakin about politicians, we learn about] the Jedi’s disenchantment with the political process, due to the corruption and the ineffectiveness of the Senate." - Attack of the Clones, Director’s Commentary, 2002

"The Jedi aren't really allowed to be involved in the political process. They're [present in the Senate when Palpatine is given emergency powers], but they can't suddenly step up and say, "No, no. You can't do that." They have to let the political process go." - Attack of the Clones, Commentary Track #2, 2002

[solifloris]

i promised ... and i owe ... so many of you thoughts on xavier's "no restraint" card..... SO HERE IT IS, UNDER THE CUT !! i ramble a lot so it's very long 🫶🫶

(this was so hard guys. this card was a whole entire shock factor.)

first of all...... please delight in this reaction image i can offer you. because. any of you who are reading this rn know exactly which part of the card i'm referring to when i say:

(in conclusion, my legs are open)

.. ANYWAY !!!!!!!!! CLEARS THROAT

things we're going to talk about? well, it's me, so (A) character development, (B) relationship development, but also (C) WHATEVER THE HELL WENT ON IN THAT KINDLED MOMENTS SSCENE <3

(A-1) Character Development; Xavier

over the past few cards we've been having of him, i think it's safe to say that we're familiar with a number of his mannerisms, and i've also talked about a lot why that is and what goes into that.

but a lot of it changes in this card. and it's so much more than just the moment of realization he has in 21 days, too. enough that—aside from what we know eventually takes place—we can safely assume that all this occurs after that card chronologically.

exhibit a; tendency to do things on his own.

this is something that i may not have talked about as much, but i'm pretty sure we all know it's there—that xavier has always carried this tendency to do things all on his own. there's multiple examples of this, and it goes way way way back to his anecdotes.

i.e. with "passing by" and "when shooting stars fall", we already have prime examples—

"Whether it's tasks assigned by the higher-ups or senior members, Xavier always completes them quickly and methodically. He works until they're done, but nothing more."

"Xavier stands alone amidst a circle of fallen bodyguards. In the corner, Lawrence is tied up with bed sheets, his neck at an odd angle."

"I notice the wounds on his hands and face. Catching his breath, he holds out his hand, showing me a small, glowing Protocore. This is the first time he's looked at me with desperation in his eyes. When he moves closer, I notice a ring of light around his neck. It's a striking, suffocating red."

in his lightseeker myth, too, he's also the one to take the initiative and look for an alternative to philos' sacrifice. he leaves mc behind, and he leaves jeremiah behind—it isn't until later that he's able to enlist the help of others and form the backtrackers, and even then, they all recognize that he's the most capable one among them. in fact, it's also evident in "from the stars" from world underneath:

"As the leader of the Backtrackers ... Asteroids, turbulence, and the collapse of wormholes couldn't tear Traceback ll's team apart. With Xavier there, they managed to break through the universe's most impregnable spacetime barrier."

"It seems like everyone had a reason to give up and leave halfway except you. Well, you did too, but you wouldn't because no one could replace you. We all thought that you'd still make it to the end, even if you were the only one left."

in the main story, we're also faced with multiple scenarios of xavier going off on his own to do hunter duties, or otherwise a little extra in order to find the protocore that he needs—"heartstring symphony" is also proof of that.

and lumiere's myth is no different, nor is the whole legend behind lumiere in the first place.

"Xavier is missing. He didn't show up on the set, and there was no sign of him at home either ... Since then, I've never received a Wanderer alert on my watch again. Just like Xavier predicted, the dark clouds gradually dispersed, and the heavy rain slowly became a gentle drizzle until it ceased completely. Breathtaking evening clouds replaced them. Dusk falls, accompanied by millions of glittering lights creating a spectacular meteor shower. Long streaks reminiscent of contrails are etched across the sky. Meanwhile, the newest updates are being broadcast repeatedly on the massive screen in the heart of Azure Square. The previously rampant Wanderers have disappeared overnight, leaving behind only some suspicious Protocores ... The doomsday panic, which overtook the city like an inflating balloon, shatters silently as if pierced by a pin."

"Right on cue, my watch loudly sounds the alarm, and I hear the roars of Wanderers from the flames. At that moment, Xavier vanishes, and a beam of light with as much force as a rainbow piercing through sunshine cuts through the collapsed, burning factory. In the blink of an eye, he leaps out of the raging fire, his sword still coated in Metaflux that has yet to dissipate."

"'Threat levels are at least A. I have to go—' 'Stay here. I'll be right back.' Xavier pushes down my shoulder, and a strange red light around his neck is quickly concealed by his collar."

"The red light on Xavier's neck flickers wildly. He swings his weapon, sending out a lightblade to kill the remaining, struggling Wanderer. Smoke created by the dissipated energy rises in all directions. He leans against the wall, trying to steady his wobbling form after the intense battle. 'Abnormal vital signs have been detected. Excessive use of Evol. Disengage from combat immediately and receive treatment...' Xavier turns off the annoying warning on his watch and lifts his gaze to the entrance of an alley, where several shadows are closing in on him."

moreover is the fact that from world underneath, we also know that his collar acts as a suppressor:

"'...Light Evol has been detected. Evolver's Evol limit cannot be defined.' 'Any attempts to probe its limit triggers a special neck suppressor, which prevents the Evolver from using their full power.'"

and yet despite that, he still continues to do what he does, anyway.

a lot of things play into it, and i talk a lot about how his upbringing as a prince must have largely contributed to habits like this. he's used to doing things on his own, and he's expected to, in a way—all the burdens and duties placed upon him the moment he was born, when he bever had any say in it. already in his "when shooting stars fall" anecdote, he's isolated from everyone and constantly surrounded by bodyguards, and mc acted as his only source of freedom by reaching for him past that barrier.

it's also worth noting that most (if not all) of this that he's been doing, is all and always for mc, too—as if it comes back full cycle. it's how he shows his love for her, because it's really the only way he knows how to.

which also brings attention to his always and ever highlighted communication issues—because common in all of these examples up until this card, is that he's been vague about it.

never giving the full answer.

never truly explaining what he's been up to.

and it's something that mc knows; he keeps his secrets well, and they've never really truly talked about these things.

but "no restraint" plays this out a little differently.

"Even though I still want to ask him about where he went, it's only a matter of time before more of Henrik's men arrive. Escaping is our main priority."

And yet;

"I realized I was being followed, which is why I didn't contact you. I managed to shake them off, but I was concerned they might catch up to me. That's why I searched for the Protocore by myself."

—"Why are you suddenly talking about this?"

"...No reason."

xavier willingly explains.

mc doesn't particularly ask—yet he says it anyway. to clear the air, to maybe make it known that he is putting in an effort.

in this situation, he hasn't derived from his habit of going off on his own, but he provides a good explanation of it. there's mediation; he's saying that he trusts her, and he wants to ensure that there is nothing for her to be worried about.

"I just wanted to say I'm not the kind of partner who would leave you behind... I'm also not one of those young people who take things for granted, either."

and he further willingly explains when she does probe him, replying with a reflection of the excuse she gave one of the bodyguards just to be able to get information out of him.

BUT, MOSTLY—

"i know you know" is xavier directly addressing the fact that their relationship has been curated around this trust that they've been starting to build with each other—he knows that mc was not exactly doubting him, yet he wanted to reassure her anyway, as if speaking it out loud makes it official.

sometimes you don't ask for reassurance because you know in your heart that your doubts aren't real. but receiving it never hurts—and that's how this plays out.

xavier has always known that communication has always been an issue with him.

he's willing to fix it, and willing to take that extra step to make sure mc doesn't feel unloved with him. he doesn't want to leave room for doubts.

"i know you know." i know you know i will never leave you, i know you know that i love you. i know you know, but i'll say it anyway. because i mean it. and you don't have to worry.

(LIKE DO YOU GUYS GET HOW IMPORTANT THIS LINE IS? 😭 HOW MUCH IT SAYS FOR THE EXTENT TO WHICH HE TRULY LOVES HER? 😭)

exhibit b; aloofness.

we also know that, while xavier can be pretty intense with regards to the previous point, he's always had this calm, easygoing, aloof nature to him. as if he could fade into the background, as if he's simply floating around like a little cloud—there's this aura around him that simply wants to just... be.

but, again, it's almost as if so much more hides underneath that. like it's not totally 100% inherently him. like it's not entirely natural, like the part of him that's like this is maybe somewhat a façade that he's been putting up for so long, so it's just ended up... becoming part of him, by force of habit.

there are so many subtleties to the way he seems to try to express himself—the little things. microexpressions. involuntary emotional leakage. they last for a fragment of a second, but they're there, and with xavier, they seem to always convey so much more than whatever words he can muster.... because he always finds himself short of doing it in the way he wants to.

again, it goes back to his communication issues.

he's used to being isolated. used to speaking eloquently as he does only when required, but never really quite knowing how to express affection. or, again, how to express himself in general.

"it's like he's just so used to being princely, that he can't let go of it even if he isn't a prince anymore. he wants to, but old habits die hard—he hides so much beneath that exterior still, and it's mc who's able to help him tear down those walls, mc who's able to make him want to try harder to."

and it's why we've always seen this push and pull with him. he has trouble being honest about his feelings, difficulties in telling mc he loves her, difficulties in being direct to the point with her. he'd dodge her questions, be vague about things... hints of directness, but never really pushing forward with it. he'd tease, but it falls short—mc doesn't know if he's being genuine or not. he doesn't know how to convey that. so a lot of their previous cards and previous moments have been very vague. so, so many examples, a very prime one being his lightseeker myth, because their communication issues very sincerely stuck out with that one. and the last intimate card they had—"tender nights"—and in fact, "heartstring symphony" too, very blatantly display how difficult it is for him to convey his feelings the right way.

but... again, "no restraint" plays that out a lot differently.

"If I had known, I would've kept you company until the mission ended."

"When you said no, they said— 'You're a special person. Won't you reconsider?' ... Did you reconsider?"

"'It's just a scratch. It'll heal in no time.' ... Xavier shakes his head, stands up, and leaves the room. When he returns, he's holding a box filled with bandages that have red foxes on them."

"He gets down on one knee and covers my knee with a bandage. The dim light blurs the outline of his hair ... After smoothing out the bandage, Xavier puts slippers on my feet. And then he stands up and leans against the edge of the table, shoulder to shoulder with me."

"He seems to casually glance in my direction. Noticing how I'm wearing a bathrobe, his gaze lingers on me for a second longer..."

"Does that mean you only like the bandage?"

"Before I realize it, his hand that's on the table slides over. He hooks his pinky over mine. 'I'm curious. The cupcake you mentioned—is it your favorite?'"

and...

he's more intentional with his words and his actions this time. he wants to show her that he loves her, he wants to show her that she means a lot to him. and they're still little things, not too major, but there's a certain confidence in the way that he does it. there's sureness. it's less of those awkward moments of "should i, shouldn't i?" and there's way less hesitation.

he's insistent on holding her and taking care of her wounds. he's insistent on having her say her side of things, because he wants to know what she really thinks, too. small staps towards clearer communication—and though the tension may still be high with them in this card in general, it's a kind of tension where you can feel that they're more comfortable.

it's a stark contrast.

this is the xavier that's more than just learning, more than just realizing—he's doing.

you can really see how he's grown as a person.

(A-2) Character Development; MC

BUT it's not JUST xavier who's grown. because like in all relationships, effort comes from both sides. and the main point here, is that mc has learned to trust him a little more, too.

this part is a little shorter, but i really wanted to bring attention to two scenes and how they both play out—and i'd also like to point out the very start of the card.

the card starts off very general and sets the scene quite well, but it also starts off with mc and xavier separated. this becomes largely the topic for discussion as the card goes on, because mc does wonder where he is, and why he isn't saying anything to her.

but it's not implied anywhere that she's particularly upset about it.

in previous cards/interactions, there's always a sense of exasperation behind her words—sometimes, like in "heartstring symphony", she's upset about it. she chastises him, she sometimes makes it known that she doesn't like when he does those things—

but this time there's none of that.

she allows the mission to move smoothly, doesn't react as much once she does hear xavier contact her again... and even if it shows that she keeps wondering where he is and what he's doing, and later on what he has been doing, it's founded on curiosity instead of frustration.

"Even though I still want to ask him about where he went, it's only a matter of time before more of Henrik's men arrive. Escaping is our main priority."

this is the mc that trusts him.

this is the mc that knows she doesn't particularly need reassurance from him, and she can do without it, because she knows what no matter what, she can trust what he's been up to.

and now;

if it wasn't obvious yet previously, this should make it.

because she's not upset—in fact, she's fond.

she recognizes that her own feelings stem from her own desire to have him with her at all times, too, but most of all, she recognizes that there's nothing to be concerned of, anyway.

she knows that in the end, the person that xavier loves is her. the person that xavier wants to protevt the most is her. the person that xavier wants to be with, as much as he can, as much as the circumstances let him—is her.

she's content with that.

she smiles at the bandage, because it's proof of it—he's just treated her wounds, so insistent on taking care of her even if she knows it's nothing but a scratch and that he doesn't even need to dote on her.

but he does.

he goes the extra stew to get a cute little bandage because he knows it'll make her smile more, too.

she knows that, and she's happy.

"You have your secrets too, but you're different from them."

in a stark contrast from the mc we've been used to before that seems a little on edge and unsure and so doubtful of so many things because there's a lot about xavier she doesn't know yet—this time, she accepts it. because they're both working towards communicating more, and being more affectionate... and there's just no reason and no need for be to be concerned.

it's a big step for her to take, and this is a surprisingly big amount of trust she's putting on him, but it's further proof of how much she—they—have grown.

"You're like.. a cupcake I tucked away so I can have you all to myself."

this is also a line that holds so much in it.

it's really struck out to me, and for a number of reasons, too— (1) it further emphasizes how content she is with him and how much she trusts him; (2) it further emphasizes her own growth with relation to how she shows affection; (3) it says a lot about the kind of special treatment she gives xavier, too.

starting with point #2—the mc we see with xavier has always been bold, always the one to initiate things.... but never truly reciprocates.

like the xavier before, mc never really follows through with what she starts. she'll tease, then pull back; initiate, and then abruptly leave him hanging. she's not much better than xavier in terms of showing affection, because although she may seem like the bolder one, the truth is that she's always been scared.

it goes back to the level of trust she has in him.

because she doesn't know too much about him, it prevents her from truly acting on her feelings—she doesn't know what to expect, doesn't know how far she's allowed to take things.

teasing remains teasing.

not this time.

we also see the level of sureness she has in her actions with the way she initiates their more intimate moments later on; she might have started out as coy, but not once did she back away from it... if not for the fact that she encourages it, even.

"I tug at his sleeve, unable to figure out whether I'm meaning to be flirty or not."

she says this, but she still continues. because she knows what she wants, and she trusts him with it.

then you bring that all together with point #3—the allusions to her own personality.

"You're like a cupcake I tucked away, so I can have you all to myself."

to me it feels less about her reciprocating his more possessive nature, and more about her views on how she's been cherishing him.

tucked away.

she uses past tense.

she could have very well said "a cupcake i tuck away"; which would imply that she frequently wants to hold him close to her to save for when they're alone.

but this is a cupcake she tucked away.

and to me it feels like she's held on to him so long... without actually appreciating him for who he is.

it's like having a pretty dessert with you, one that's too pretty to eat, so you keep for yourself for a while. and you... don't eat it. even if you're supposed to.

it's like getting a precious jewel, but you're too concerned about it being stolen from you, because it's just that precious and beautiful—so you keep it. you don't wear it, whether outside or wherever. you don't. wear it. even if you're supposed to.

and that's not appreciating them for what they are.

to me, it feels like that's how the change in tense makes mc's words appear.

a cupcake she tucked away—hasn't eaten at all. like how, with xavier, for all that she's been fond of him, she's never onve bridged the gap between them on her own, either. she's kept him at arm's length, doubted him, and everything else that comes along with all the communication issues they've always had.

this time, she recognizes it—and i'd like to think that in a way, she's also apologizing for it. she admits, out loud, to herself and to him, that she's been pretty selfish. she hasn't been treasuring him and cherishing him the way she needs to be. she hasn't been reciprocating when he's affectionate. she's been only shying away when he initiates something. she knows she's been like that, and she's saying—i'm not going to be like that anymore.

and again, it goes back to trust.

she trusts him.

and because she can trust him, she can love him how he is, for who he is.

"so i can have you all to myself" feels a lot more like, "so i can finally love you."

and then we get to this scene.

for one thing, she doesn't deny their relationship at all; for another—their conversation on "love" feels very striking to me, too.

"but he can be a little mischievous sometimes."

"isn't that just love?"

and then...

"you're not wrong."

it's like a very direct jab at xavier and his way of being affectionate; the teasing that he does, and the way he's sometimes a little vague, sometimes a little awkward—but he's trying, and he's becoming more sure of himself, too.

and xavier's way of showing affection is truly reserved for her, because there's really none of that awkwardness with anyone else—he doesn't try so hard.

mc seems to be, here, descriving that nature of him as "mischievous".

it is, in a way.

but she also knows that it's love.

that it's his way of showing love.

she recognizes it. she accepts it.

she's learned things about him, too, and she's thinking... all of it can be compiled into this little word called love.

there is love between both of them.

and we can say that at this point, they're pretty far into their relationship.

they've gotten quite comfortable with each other—they're being touchy, the playful banter is light and easy... and they're definitely working to strengthen the bond that they have. their communication has improved SO much... i'm so proud of them 😭

it's definitely not a fully developed relationship; they're still a little shy around each other, there's still a lot of tension that's hard for them to navigate. it seems they've also yet to cross the " i love you" barrier, or at the very least, that it's difficult to say—plus, mc is exceedingly embarrassed to find xavier had overheard her conversation with the receptionist.

yet... when we move on to when they start to get intimate, it's also very interesting to me that it goes so smoothly—and it's definitely not their first time.

but it's a first something.

and it doesn't make the moment any less full of emotion.

this particular sequence honestly had me so INCREDIBLY confused at first, because why on earth would he be trapped right;

but then you look into who xavier is and how he's been with mc, and it goes back to that—he has so, so much love for her that he simply doesn't know how to deal with it.

he's pleading her.

he's saying that if she continues drawing him in like this, what with how much he always feels for her, he's not going to be able to hold back.

it's a trap, in a way.

xavier is still trying his best to discern what it means to show love to someone—because all these years, he hasn't been able to learn that properly. and yet now that mc has fully grasped her end of the stick, now that she's confident and sure of what she wants and how much she feels for him, it's bringing forth a bubble of emotions that he can't seem to describe.

it might not be their first time, but i don't think that xavier ever moves on from what it feels like to be wanted by her like this.

it's scary, because he doesn't know how to navigate things like this.

"It's almost as if tiny flames are flickering in the depths of his gaze. They're faint yet ready to ignite my soul at any moment."

xavier, who's been raised with the notion that he has to know things, to be able to potentially lead his people as the future king of philos...

this is something he doesn't know.

and like how mc was always afraid of how uncertain she was with him, right now, he's afraid because he has so much emotion ready to burst forth that he doesn't know what to do with it.

there's an aura of disbelief that makes it so hard for him to grasp.

it's always been "i will love you in every universe"—for the both of them.

and now, he's having the full realization, maybe for the 928482857th time since they've become official, that she's saying those words back to him. that if he can love her in every universe, as every version of himself... then she can do the same for him.

she wants to do the same for him.

she is doing the same for him.

"she loves me."

"she wants me."

he's pleading with her to take what she wants, because she has all of him.

and then we go back to mc's confidence—because she realizes he wants this to proceed in exactly the same way she wants it to, and she's willing to become his undoing.

and even if he technically switches and takes charge in the next second, it comes to fruition that her giving him consent in this way is what breaks him free of that bubble.

"don't hold back", is all that this is, really.

and he doesn't.

and it's just, not really just about the tension they've built up to get to this moment—the coy excuse of using the protocore's supposed effects—there's so much that goes into it, with the way they feel, with how their desires are so blatantly displayed just like that, with how their love fuels how much they need each other.

it's almost funny, in a way, because it's as if both of them are saying "take me, i'm yours." at the same time. and then it becomes less about possession... and more of a complete and utter surrender to each other.

and i think that's beautiful.

(which also. BONUS? but if this doesn't signify how focused xavier is on giving pleasure and at the same time how easy it is for him to lose himself in the moment and feel good because you're feeling good—i don't know what else will ✋)

(also like. the aftercare... the morning cuddles.... the hickey mc left on him 😭 i love them so much..........)

IN CONCLUSION . . . . THIS CARD MADE ME FEEL MANY THINGS.

THANK YOU FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK 😭✋

[yayasvalveplay]

Okay before we focus TOO much on the Earth Arc because I wanna try to put stuff from before BECAUSE I GOTTA A LOT— starting from when Tronus was born/created by the Matrix including some scenes and some WIPS like this

IM WORKING ON IT I SWEAR IM JUST THIS CAT

I want to focus on cyberton first and the relationships Tronus has and what happens rn, especially with Megatron when he gets imprisoned; and the part with Primus's core; as much as I love the idea of Ghost Orion haunting Megatron to time and space. I don't think he should exist- at least not with limits

No no noooo ☝️I want this mech to have consequences to his actions; sure he shot Orion accidentally — but he still let go of Orion, Megatron gave up on him and basically killed him. In canon he wasn't even happy/focused on the fact he killed him or that Orion/Optimus came back

The only reason he even falters in going foward with his plans from destruction to killing the new Prime someone else crawling out of the well instead of Orion right there is because of the sire coding,.

Orion doesn't come back; instead it's Tronus Prime, had the sire coding not activated right there and the body horror of watching the Matrix materialize a frame around him, had the uncanny cries of a sparkling not fill everyone's audials. Maybe a naive part of him that was still D-16 hoped Orion would come back; because its his Amica, his Conjux, Orion Pax who always gets into trouble yet came out of it.

Not this time.

After he gets dog-piled, instead of execution. Megatron gets a little trial and imprisoned past level 50. A fair trial–Something Orion wanted to give Sentinel.

Megatron wouldn't be Megatron if he simply accepted being imprisoned, that Orion wasn't coming back, that the newest Prime, the thought fills his helm with disgust now and makes him want to tear the Prime apart. He can't accept that the thing is his child.

He D-16 can't accept that Orion is actually gone, because that would be like the suns missing their moons or gravity not working. It just can't.

It hurts more when Tronus comes down for the first time; with a grieving Elita and B-127. Elita who glares at him and B-127 who's quiet and refuses to look at Megatron, refusing to look at Tronus.

Megatron would never be trusted to be alone with Tronus, let alone see him. That means he's always alone down there, minus the gaurds who watch him and provide the basics for prisoners.

Isolation that made B-127 create false people out of desperation.

Megatron is not immune, no matter how hard he tries, no matter how hard he tries to ignore the feeling of realization.

Orion isn't coming back. His rage killed him.

Anyways have a rare happy Tronus doodle he is my bunny son ❤️

No wait, wait. Mion, you are so right about all of this. I just got a little crazy for the earth arc, and let stuff fly, we are toning it down. We are letting Megatron suffer for the crimes he had committed.

He is not immune to isolation. And Perhaps Orion is a manifestation, for a long time. It's HIS Orion, the one who'd chat his audio off, or lean on him when they are too tired from work. It's the Orion he didn't kill.

But sometimes he will get Cogged Orion, the Orion that looks upon him with sadness, hurt, asking why he had let go, they could of rebuilt the world together, These Orions Megatron is more violent, calling Orion out for stepping infront of him, how dare he stepped infront of him. They could of remade the world together, him and Orion.

But he had to go and play hero. get himself killed.

But why did he drop him, why did he let him go, was he that angry with Pax, he'd let him fall to his death, not knowing if he ever saw him again?

But he wanted to see him again, he wanted to see Orion fixed, and better crawling out of that pits with his world view, and allowed to kill, allowed to destroy.

But what he got was a parasite, something overtaking and trying to be a mech, who says that they are his child. who had his sire protocol activate. He is not falling for a false prime again. He told Orion that much before, He should understand how he feels, and yet he is being berated, yelled/ cried at.

He can't, take the voices any more.

ANYWAYS Thank you for the art as always AHHH I can not wait to see more of it!!!

[starimusprime]

im curious, considering the way you write oplita (which is beautiful btw if i could, id give ur fics a kissie on the forehead) how would you portray their relationship in a sequel to tf:1?? (hopefully we’ll get a sequel 😞😞)

OOOOOO THIS QUESTIONNNN

First of all thank you so much for your compliment! I love writing them so so much, they are utter perfection in my eyes and I will never find enough content focused on them.

Ok ok. REALISTICALLY, this is ONE idea of how I would personally write the progression of their friendship into a romance, keeping in mind that I've only got roughly 2 hours to do so alongside a bunch of other character arcs and the main plot.

TF ONE SPOILERS BELOW

I would spend some time in the beginning and sprinkled throughout the rest of the film exploring the aftermath of D-16's betrayal and Orion's rapid switch from dying by his best friend's hand to being revived as Optimus Prime. I imagine that such an abrupt change - and in the middle of dying a HORRIFIC DEATH - would leave Optimus with some (maybe temporary) mental and emotional issues to work through, with the reformatting of his frame on top of that.

In the beginning, Elita is a steadfast friend (as opposed to a fair weather friend) and helps him lead the Autobots in order to ease his mental load. Secretly (maybe she reveals this to Jazz) she keeps thinking about the fact that she would have jumped into the Well of AllSparks after Orion if B-127 hadn't stopped her. It bothers her until later on when some smaller event triggers her to realize that she loves Optimus as more than just a friend. She fears that if she tells him this too soon, she could overwhelm him or scare him off (since he's still dealing with the extreme trauma he recently endured), and this results in her subconsciously distancing herself from him.

Up to this point, Optimus might have been trying to assure Elita that he's fine and genuinely believing that he is. But now when he feels the effect of Elita being less present with him (maybe he has an emotional breakdown or smth and she isn't there like she usually is) he has the realization that not only is he not fine, but he cannot work through everything alone, and most importantly there is no one he would rather do this with than Elita.

Cue mutual pining, Elita doesn't want to overwhelm him with her feelings, Optimus doesn't want to make Elita feel pressured to reciprocate his feelings because he's the Prime, then insert climactic battle with the Decepticons or sabotage mission against the Quintessons or whatever here. Big things happen, and there it is. Optimus needs to make a decision. It could be emotionally taxing, or bring his trauma back to the surface, or what have you. But Elita is there, and she is his reason to push himself aside and fight, or make the decision he needs to make for the good of Cybertron.

After the climax, they both understand that life is too short and fate too unpredictable to postpone something as important confessing one's love for another. It wouldn't be the primary element of the end of the film, but they would have a moment, tense at first (maybe Elita disobeyed an order that got her injured in the battle and Optimus was mad at her for almost dying, but now he's just grateful that she's okay). Tension would give way to awkwardness or shyness as they talk quietly about something war-related, until finally one of them opens up, incapable of holding in their true feelings any longer. The other would be startled by the abrupt confession, but then it all makes sense.

Maybe they wouldn't kiss in that moment...but they definitely would in a post-credits scene!