#but this one took so so long and it's just 9 images like

[scooterpengie]

I've always wanted to make a lyric comic and I kept seeing people making animatics with this song I decided to jump on that trend! Except this took so long to make that now I've kinda missed it 😅

[icewindandboringhorror]

random life photos from the past few months

[cressidagrey]

Such A Mystery - Part 9

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.

Colette Leclerc really regrets posting that particular Taylor Swift Lyric to her private Instagram account, because it made George Russell go insane.  

The rest of the world has absolutely no idea that the Dutch Lion and Charles Leclerc’s twin sister have been a couple for 15 years and are expecting a baby. 

Warnings: 

Pregnancy, Mention of multiple miscarriages, Pregnancy complications, George Russell Bashing (he's probably really nice in real life but in this, he's the bad guy, sorry), Jos Verstappen, We have apparently now reached the time where I also bash Ferrari. I am sure they are super nice in real life too. They are not in this.

Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this. Chapter 8 of...who knows.

It felt like forever. He knew it wasn't. It must have been minutes until the car door was ripped open and Charles slipped in right next to him.

It wasn’t until the doors were slammed shut behind Charles that Max dared to look at the Monégasque.

His heart skipped a beat at the sight. Charles was still in his racing suit just as him, the suit itself streaked with sweat.

The moment the car door closed, the car started riving.

"Merde," Charles cursed. Max could only agree. "I am sorry, that it took this long."

Max gave a sharp, jerky shake of his head. "You don’t have to apologize," he somehow managed to get the words out. "I’m just..." he trailed off, a shaky exhale escaping him. "How could you make it here so fast?" he asked, casting a quick glance in his friend’s direction.

Charles snorted. "Your press officer had a shouting match with Ferrari's,“ he said simply.

If Max wasn’t so focused on not completely losing it, he might’ve been amused with the mental image. But at the moment, he could only shake his head.

Next to him, Charles let out a sigh. "Are you alright?" he asked quietly.

"No. You?" he gave back.

"I don't have a bad feeling," Charles said quietly. “Not worse than it has been for days at least.”

Twin Telepathy was apparently a thing as far as Charles and Colette were concerned. 

Quite frankly, till this day, it still weirded Max out. They just seemed to know when the other one wasn't feeling well. 95% of the time, they got sick at the same time. They communicated more easily with each other than with anyone else, and regardless of what game they played...they needed to be put on opposite teams, because otherwise nobody had a chance against them.

Max was well aware of Colette and Charles' strange connection. Even if he didn’t fully understand it. They both had some sort of sixth sense when it came to the other one, and it sometimes felt like they were talking in secret code.

"What’s it telling you right now?" he asked, his voice barely above a rough whisper.

Charles turned to him fully at that, and Max saw the way his eyes swept over him, taking in every aspect of his appearance.

Max could only imagine what Charles was seeing. He felt like a walking wreck, and there was no doubt his appearance was mirroring that.

"Colette is in pain," Charles finally said, his voice strangely quiet. "She’s scared."

That answer felt like somebody shoved a knife into Max’s stomach. He inhaled sharply, the breath catching in his throat. “Of course, she is,” he hissed through clenched teeth.

Charles seemed to sense what he was thinking, even without being telepathically connected through whatever the hell Colette and him had going on. The Monégasque reached out and took a firmer hold of his hand, the grip almost crushing.

"Don’t," Charles said firmly, his voice leaving no room for arguments. "Don’t go there. We’re gonna get to her as fast as we can."

There was a brief moment of silence, as Max tried to collect himself. He focused all his attention on the pressure of Charles' hand on his, and somehow, it actually helped.

"I feel so goddamn useless," he finally admitted, his voice rough with emotion. "I want to be with her."

"You want to try calling her before we are in the air?" Charles suggested.

That was not a bad idea, not at all. Max let out a low and slightly shaky exhale, swallowing hard. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Yeah, I…” he had to stop and clear his throat. “Yeah, I’ll try to call her.”

His hands were shaking when he pulled out his phone out of the backpack that somebody had handed off to him, already packed. Regardless of all the drama that had gone on in the RedBull garage during the year… if it really mattered, the people in there pulled off minor miracles.

Within minutes, his entire day - hell, his entire week - had been packed for him, with all the essentials of clothes and everything else he would need.

He had almost forgotten about the phone in his shaking hands, but now he just stared at the screen for a moment. His fingers were trembling so badly that just unlocking the phone was a challenge in itself.

Jimmy and Sassy were on his lockscreen...a picture that Colette had once sent him when he had been away for one of his races...the two of them laying on top of her on their couch...

Every other time Max saw the photo, it made his heart do a little funny jump. Now though, it made his chest ache. It felt like a sharp stabbing pain, and for a moment, he just sat there and stared at the picture.

Then he called her.

It rang. And it rang, and it rang again. With each passing second, that horrible knot in his stomach tightened a little more. With every ring of the bell, it got harder to breathe.

Finally, to Max’s immense and enormous relief, the line connected.

"Hey, Maxie. I put you on speaker," Victoria's voice came over the phone, sounding surprisingly calm.

A shiver of something resembling dread ran through Max, at the sound of Victoria’s voice. But he pushed past the feeling.

His thoughts were once again running wild - was it a bad sign that Colette wasn’t the one speaking to him? Or was he just overreacting..?

“Hey,” he forced the word out past the lump in his throat. "How are you feeling?" he asked, pleading for Colette's voice. Was it selfish that he just wanted to hear her tell him that everything was going to be okay?

"Better now," Colette's voice came, sounding slightly hoarse.

The words were like a shot of adrenaline, and for a moment, Max actually felt a little lightheaded. “Liefje.” He closed his eyes, just hearing her voice sending another wave of relief through him. “Are you okay? How is Bébé?”

"Bébé has decided that they would rather be born today, so I would suggest you hurry up," Victoria said drily.

"Seems like the kid already inherited Max's need for speed," Charles quipped. "How are you doing, Coco?"

"I'm good," Colette's voice replied, and Max could only imagine the eye-roll that was currently happening. He knew his girlfriend, and he had no doubt that she had been glaring at Victoria ever since the phone was put on speaker.

"Where are you?" she asked, her voice suddenly turning much softer. "You're coming, right?"

"Coming," he assured her, his heart aching. "We're coming, I promise."

"I know. I’m not worried." She sounded like she meant it, but Max could easily imagine the anxiety in her eyes.

"You'd better not worry," Charles said, and then added, "I’m keeping him from doing anything dumb."

Max shot Charles a dirty look at that, bt he swallowed down the annoyed protest and focused back on Colette instead. “Just…hold on a little longer, okay?”

"It's not like I can go anywhere else," Colette replied, her voice slightly amused. "I’ll keep our little speed demon in there a little lo...." She broke off and let out a quiet hiss of pain, her voice once again cut off by what Max suspected to be a particularly painful contraction.

“Colette,” he said sharply, all kinds of emotions washing over him, one by one. “Liefje, just…just breathe through it, okay?”

There was a second of panting, then, he heard her take a deep breath. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay,” she finally said. “Just…hurts like hell.”

He swallowed and clenched his free hand tightly into a fist, fighting against the urge to just jump out of the car and start running towards the airport.

Colette being in pain was not something he could deal with.

He heard her take a few more deep breaths, and he just sat there, waiting and listening and feeling absolutely useless.

"How long until you get here?" she asked after a moment, her voice breathless. He could see her in his mind, his sweet girl, sitting on the bed and clutching her belly as another contraction hit her.

"We're not even at the airport yet," he told her, and damn it, why were his eyes suddenly burning. "We’ll get there as soon as we can, okay? Just...hold on a little longer."

"What your dad said..." Colette said with a shaky voice.

"I know," he said simply, the grief raw in his voice. Neither of them were ever really going to get over the two babies they had lost. They had learnt to live with the pain, they had dealt with the heartbreak an grief...but it was always going to be scar for them.

"Max, if something…" she began, her voice a little wobbly. He could tell that she was crying, by the way her breathing got a little more hitched and ragged.

But she suddenly cut off and gasped, letting out an even breath. Another contraction..."Hey, nothing is gonna happen," he quickly said, trying to soothe her. "Nothing. I'll be there soon. I'll be there before you know, and our child will meet their parents. We will be fine, we will get through this. You, and me. Together."

"If something happens," Colette continues. "If..."

"No," he cut her off, the word coming out as a growl. "Nothing is gonna happen. You will not talk that way. You’re going to deliver a gorgeous and healthy baby, and I won’t hear anything else."

"Max..." she protested, but Max wasn’t having it.

"You’re not going anywhere," he said firmly, putting as much steel in his voice as he could. "You will be fine. Our baby will be fine, and I will be there soon and I will hold your hand and you can threaten to geld me and all of it will be okay. Just breathe.” 

He could hear the sound of her breathing, deep and even. She was trying to steady it, and Max gripped his phone tighter. He didn’t know if he was trying to hold himself together, or if he was trying to hold on to the sound of her voice.

The seconds ticked by, and then another contraction hit, and he heard her gasp out another ragged breath. Max felt like he was going to crawl out of his own skin. The idea of her in pain was like an invisible knife twisting a little deeper in his gut, each time.

"We need to go," Charles said suddenly. "We need to get into the plane." The car slowed down at that moment. "Coco, listen to me. I am going to be absolutely fucking furious with you if something happens to you," Charles told her fiercely. 

"Trust me," Colette’s voice said, sounding slightly tired. "I am very, very motivated to stay alive."

That was good. That was a good sign. If she was still being sarcastic and even a little bit cheeky…it was good.

"Just hold on," he told her again, the familiar feeling of helplessness seeping into his bones. "Just keep hanging on, for me. I love you."

“I love you too,” the words were as immediate and as fast as the sunrise each morning. "Hurry up, dammit."

"I’m trying," he replied, his voice hoarse. "I’m trying. We’re at the airport now. We’ll get there as fast as we can-" he had to stop, when he heard her let out another pained gasping sound, as another contraction clearly hit her hard.

“Goddamn,” he exclaimed, all of his muscles tense with the urge to do something. He wanted to help her, he wanted to be there to comfort her…but more than anything,  he was terrified of losing her. "Liefje, just keep breathing, okay? Breathe and stay calm."

"I’m trying to," her voice was breathless, and he knew that she was probably trying hard to fight the urge to cry out. Oh God, he hated that. He hated seeing her in pain, he loathed feeling this utterly useless.

"Go. Love you," she told him.

"I love you," he told her emphatically, wanting to say something more, but then Charles impatiently gestured at him to hurry up and get out of the car. "I...I’ll see you soon, okay? Just hang on, okay?"

"Yeah," he could tell that she was trying even harder to control her voice, trying to put on a calm and steady front for his benefit. "Just..." she cut off and let out a gasp, another contraction evidently hitting her hard. "...just hurry up before this baby decides to make their way out before you arrive, okay?"

"I will," he promised through gritted teeth. "I will, goddammit, I will, just…hang on."

He heard Colette’s pained panting, and each of her breaths was like a stab in the gut.He hated having to hang up on her

Everything in him rebelled at that. How could he, how could he possibly abandon her like that, how could he let her take on this pain and fear all by herself, without him there to hold her hand...but goddamnit, he had no choice.

He took a shuddering breath and pushed past the urge to scream, to slam his fist into something, anything. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions, ranging from the desperate need to get to her, to overwhelming panic, to anger at the universe for forcing them apart and for putting her through this pain.

Into the plane they went…it was probably the shortest amount of time between entering a plane and taking off Max had ever experienced. 

Before too long they were up in the air, flying towards Nice.

The minutes ticked by, each one passing by like a century. Max would sit in restless agitation at his seat, his mind racing back and forth. Every thought and memory came back to Colette. He just wanted to be at her side, he just wanted everything to be okay…

And instead he would be stuck on this plane for 6 hours.

He would be stuck on this goddamn plane for six hours. Six hours, each one of them filled with the knowledge that the love of his life was giving birth to their child, and he was not there to support her, to hold her hand and reassure her that everything was okay.

It was driving him absolutely insane. He couldn’t take it, he just wanted to be there, with her. He could vividly picture her, sitting in the hospital bed and gripping the rails, her face screwed up in pain as she fought through another contraction. And he was not there to comfort her.

"Maman is with her. Your sister is with her. Lorenzo and Arthur too." Charles said at that moment. “We aren't there but everybody else is."

"How can you be this calm?" Max asked him, dragging a hand through sweat damp hair.

"Don't mistake calm for not being worried," Charles said evenly, his eyes tracking Max's restless pacing of the plane. "I am worried. For her, for you and for the little one. But freaking out isn't gonna do anyone any favours right now."

"I know,” Max said, his voice still strangled tight with stress. He just couldn't get any of the images out of his mind - her struggling and fighting her way through the pain, looking more vulnerable and pale than he had ever seen her...and he was not there.

“Besides, I shouted at Ferrari’s PR and got it out of my system, so currently, I am feeling quite calm.” Charles said darkly. “I imagine that’s going to change again when I am sure that Colette and the baby are alright.”

Max just stared at him. Charles had done what?

If there was a religion that Charles Leclerc believed in then it was Ferrari.

Charles Leclerc was their golden boy. Their Il Predestinato. There was no good-natured fobbing to be had about Ferrari regardless of what issues there had been had through the years, and there had been a lot.

Charles worshipped Ferrari like a malevolent goddess. He didn’t want to hear any criticism of his team and Max had given up on that a very long time ago. 

Charles and Colette both could be the most stubborn people Max had ever match. The only one who could match their stubbornness were each other. 

"You did what?" Max stared at him, utterly flabbergasted. Charles was an absolute Ferrari fan and loyal to the very core…why the hell would he yell at the PR people?

"Why...? What did they do?"

"They weren't even going to tell me that something was wrong with Colette," Charles said darkly. "I knew it. I knew that something was off. But they didn't say anything. It was one of Red Bull's PR Staff that got me out of the cooldown room. Ferrari wouldn't have said anything to me. Ferrari didn't want me to leave either. They wanted to debrief, they wanted me to give interviews,"

Max had to resist the urge to swear. He had been so focused on the fact that he was not with Colette that he hadn't even processed the fact that Ferrari had actually kept her labour a secret from Charles, simply to make him stay and do his goddamn job for them.

"You know that that is not normal, right?" he asked him drily. "I am not telling you that everything is perfect at Red Bull but Christian would never fucking stand for that."

"You know I never expected it," Charles told him, his mouth a thin hard line. "We are the drivers. We are the stars. But we come second. First and foremost, we are assets to the team. What Ferrari wants, Ferrari gets. We drive, we get podiums, we hold the trophies, and we smile for the cameras. Everything else comes second. It doesn’t matter to them. To them, only the trophies matter. "

"That's what they want," Max told him, anger seeping into his voice. "But that's not how it should be. Ferrari is wrong. If something is wrong with your loved ones, they have no right to keep it from you like that. Especially not for the sake of a goddamn interview."

"I know," Charles said, his lips thin with bitterness. "But there's not much I can do about it, is there? We may be the top drivers on the grid, but we drive the car that the teams give us. There's only so much that we can do when the team has power over pretty much every aspect of our career. And believe me, I am going to pay a fucking price for doing what I did. I just don't care at all. It's Colette," he said sharply. "I love all my siblings. I do. I love Lorenzo and Arthur. I would do everything for them. But they aren't my twin. They aren't the second half of me," Charles said simply. "Ferrari be damned."

Max hadn't thought that he was ever going to hear these words out of Charles' mouth but here they were.

"What the fuck did Jos say by the way? What did Coco mean?" Charles demanded.

"He gave an interview to Sky Sports," Max said, fury still embering deep in his gut.

"Of course he did." Charles said, not sounding surprised at all. "What did he say?"

"Confirmed the relationship...and the pregnancy," Max said clenching his teeth. "And if that wasn't enough...he made a...comment about how it had taken us long enough to have a baby."

There was a sharp indrawn breath as Charles absorbed that. "...What?" Charles said after a moment, his voice strangled. "...he made that comment in public? Are - are you serious?"

"I never told him about the two...miscarriages," Max said quietly. "I couldn't deal with whatever well meant advice he was going to have...but I...We lost two babies," Max said weakly. "My father went out there and confirmed our relationship and the pregnancy without talking to either of us. He just made that decision because it's "ridiculous" that we kept it a secret for so long. An it’s making me furious. This wasn't his decision to make. This was ours."

"Yes," Charles said, his jaw clenching. "It was. Your decision. Nobody else’s. He had absolutely no right to do that. Goddamn it, I have never liked that man, but I've never had the urge to punch him as much as I do this very moment."

"You and me both," Max said. The anger he was feeling would have been burning through him like a damn inferno if he hadn't been so worried about Colette.

"This should have come from us," Max repeated quietly. "Not from anybody else."

"It still can come from you," Charles said.

Max paused, looking up at him. "Are you saying we should..." he began uncertainly.

"You want to tell the entire world that you love my sister and that she is having your baby? You have an Instagram account and a phone with an internet connection," Charles said drily. "Tell them the truth. Your truth."

Max opened his mouth and then closed it again. Charles had a point. It was obvious what the news was going to be now if people had seen Jos's interview.

But he wanted to be the one to tell the world. He wanted it to be on his terms. He wanted it to be public but on his public terms. Not his father's.

"Are you ever going to ask my sister to marry you?" Charles asked him suddenly.

The question caught him completely off guard. "...What?" He said blankly, stunned by the change of the conversation.

"You gave her a ring when you were both 18 that you both insisted was only a promise ring," Charles said drily. "Are you ever going to replace it with the real thing?"

He thought back to that ring that still sat on Colette's finger to this day. A simply gold band with a tiny heart-shaped diamond.

He had given it to her in 2016, after his very first Grand Prix win in Spain. He had gone out and bought it that very same day to be exact.

He had bought Victoira a handbag the first time he had scored his championship points...but the first time he had won...he had bought Colette that ring.

"Apparently the baby is only going to have your surname too, because you have an agreement," Charles continued. "Do I actually want to know what that agreement was?"

"We were 18. Both our father's would have probably killed us, if we came to them and told them that we were engaged," Max said with a sigh. The Leclerc's had always been supportive of their relationship but Hervè Leclerc had very much thought that both Colette and him were far too young to get married. 

Jos on the other hand...Max didn't even want to imagine that screaming fit.  "So I gave her that ring and we agreed that..."

"You agreed that..." Charles repeated slowly, silently urging him to continue.

Max let out a deep sigh and dragged a hand through his already messy hair, mussing it up even more. "We agreed that we didn't really need a piece of paper to tell us what we already knew," he said simply. "Colette and I had been together for 6 years at that point, we already knew and accepted that we were going to be together for the rest of our lives. It was just a matter of when. So we decided that we didn't need a damn piece of paper to know that we were committed to each other. We already knew that, without a doubt," Max said simply. "It was a promise ring. To love and to cherish, till death us do part. One day we would do it properly, but till then...that ring was a promise."

Charles stared at him. "Let me get this straight. You have been married to my sister for 10 years?" he asked him sharply.

Max winced. Okay. Put like that, it sounded kinda bad. "We never had the actual wedding," he said sheepishly. "We both know it wasn't necessary for us, so...we kinda just...never got around to it."

"I mean, I did ask your father for her hand in marriage when it was clear that he wasn't going to be there...when we eventually did it properly...but...for us that ring was… It was more than enough," Max said quietly. "I knew damn well that I would be with her for the rest of my life. She knew it. We both knew it. And that ring was a symbol between us that sealed the deal. We both knew that it was going to be for forever and always. It was a promise. A promise to always stay by each other’s side. No matter how badly things fell apart around us. No matter how much the world wanted to tear us to apart. We were going to stay together, come hell or high water. We didn't need a paper to prove that to us or the rest of the world," Max said firmly.

Charles stared at him for a couple of long moments, processing this. Max was well aware that, from an outside perspective, it might sound weird. That they had been so young, but so utterly certain that they were going to spend their lives together.

But he and Colette had been together for years. And he had seen how strongly they had bonded over the years, seen what they had been able to deal with as a team, as one, and how they had come through every single thing that the life had thrown at them together.

"You two are utterly ridiculous," Charles finally said drily. "You didn't get engaged because as far as you two were concerned you already got married years ago."

Max winced a little bit and couldn't really refute it. If he were to be honest, he'd have admit it did sound utterly ridiculous, when Charles spelled it out like that.

But that just...that was how badly they had known right from the very beginning that this was it for them. They didn't need a piece of paper to tell them what they already knew.

"I'll ask her properly," he promised Charles. "I already got the ring. But Colette doesn't want to overshadow Lorenzo and Charlotte and I knew that she wasn't going to want to have a big party while pregnant so I figured I would just wait."

Charles was slightly taken aback by his words, before he gave a small smile. "She'll definitely say yes, you know," he said, the corner of his eyes crinkling with affection.

Max smiled in return. His heart ached with the thought of her. "I hope so," he said quietly, feeling like there was a hole in his chest where his heart was supposed to be. "I really, really hope so."

[beardedjoel]

oasis

dbf neighbor! joel miller x f!reader. one shot.

main masterlist | ao3 | kofi

summary: your dad's friend is tasked with looking after you while he's out of town. he ends up finding you somewhere you absolutely shouldn't be. blackmail ensues. 8.3k words.

for @iamasaddie's writing challenge! my genre was dark and the prompt was "please don't tell my dad!" thanks for the amazing challenge! 💌

warnings: 18+ MDNI! dark themes, joel is pervy and sleazy, age gap (reader is under drinking age but an adult so 18-20, joel's age unmentioned but he calls himself an old man and he's 50+ in my head), consensual but there are elements of coercion and blackmail so... (it's dark! okay!), unprotected piv, lap sitting, lap dance, thigh/crotch riding, orgasm denial, pussy pronouns, dirty diiiirty talk, cumshot?, reader has hair that can be pulled and wears lingerie but otherwise is undescribed.

a/n: this is less edited than my usual work but i hope i did it justice! it was very fun and silly to come up with this idea and i ended up loooving how crazy it got!

Keep an eye on her while we’re gone, eh?

The words from your father ring through Joel’s ears when he hears the start of an engine from where he sits in his living room, his view on the plush couch offering a perfect view through the large picture window on the front of the house. Right to where you live with your dad, where he can see the lights of your car come on. Bingo. He’s got you now.

Obsession felt like a strong word, but Joel could describe it no other way as soon as you’d moved in across the street - your dad was a longtime friend and neighbor, talk of his little girl rampant for years before he’d had the chance to meet you. You were going to be going to college nearby, so you moved from where you lived with your mom in California down to your father in Texas, right across the street from where he’d had the pleasure of laying eyes on you for the first time.

Young. Supple. Beautiful. And so damn shy. 

He hated just how much it turned him on when your timid eyes would find his. The pervy old man who couldn’t keep his eyes off a young girl - what a god damned cliche he’d become. He kept tabs on you, at first not really realizing he was doing it, eyes peering out the windows to catch you on your way out the door or coming home soon escalated to trying to see into your bedroom window at the front of the house. His time with your father mysteriously seemed to double, then triple, any chance he could to get close to you, see you in your natural habitat, hoping to learn more about this special girl that had captured so much of his attention.

You dressed modestly, too - far too modestly for his liking - he knew your father was a strict man, and assumed just as much about your mother from the way your dad talked about his ex-wife. He never got to see enough of you, except for the few times you had on shorter dresses when the summer heat just got to be too much to bear, and those rare occasions burned themselves into his memory, a bank of images to pull from when he took a hand to his cock and thought of you.

He’s up in a flash, smiling softly to himself as he quickly slides on his shoes and swipes his keys from the front table, exiting the house and seeing your car still parked in the drive. You always sit there too long before driving off, probably playing on your phone, texting your friends, whatever the hell young girls like you do. All Joel knows is he’s grateful it gives him enough time to sneak to his truck before you can get too far, waiting until you pull out and start down the street before starting his own car.

Joel checks the time as he starts down his driveway and sees it’s well after 9:00 pm. Where the hell could you be going, you naughty thing? Your dad has a strict curfew for you, he knows, and if he’s tasked with keeping an eye on you, he might as well do it right.

So he follows you. You get on the highway, heading towards downtown, and Joel’s eyebrows raise as he turns up his music, cruising along behind you, so unaware as he sees the outline of your own head bopping along to your music when he can get a clear enough view.

When you finally park, the city streets bustling with people out late on a Friday night around you, Joel sits in his truck, eyes peeled as he watches you round a building, disappearing. Oasis, the glowing sign on the front says. It looks a bit seedy, this area of town, a bouncer on the outside that you’d given a curt wave to sending Joel’s expression into pure shock before a determined smirk crosses his lips.

It turns out it’s not as exclusive as having a bouncer would make it seem. Joel waits in line with the others, feeling a bit out of place but his appetite to bust you outweighs all of it. Not more than ten minutes later he’s inside, the dark hallway opening up to a massive room laid out in front of him. It’s busy - bodies everywhere, the smell of sweat, alcohol, and arousal permeating everything and Joel blinks to adjust his eyes to the dim mood lighting. A dance floor takes up most of the middle, crowded to the max as music bumps through the speakers, and two bars flank either side, fully packed as well. There are lounges everywhere - cushy leather couches with tables, and as Joel’s vision comes in in full, he sees more private spots along the edges of the room on a slightly elevated area, curtains closing them in.

Too busy taking everything in, he doesn’t even notice the most important detail right away - the waitresses. More specifically, the way they’re all dressed. Gorgeous bodies of all shapes and sizes, parading around in what is essentially lingerie - a lacy black bra paired with a matching set of panties, sheer black stockings and a garter trailing down their legs all the way to the heels that adorn their feet. Joel feels a twinge inside his belly, pulling low and taut when he spots one of the waitresses with thick thighs and a plush stomach grinding on a woman sitting on one of the couches, the receiver throwing her head back in teasing, pleased laughter before taking a long sip of her drink. He continues scanning the room, seeing another man closer to his age being straddled by a different waitress with one of the nicest pairs of tits Joel has ever seen in that same uniform, her hips swaying and grinding so close to his crotch as she gives him a lapdance.

Fuck.

His mind spins faster, blood going hot as it runs through his veins, his cock twitching under the denim of his jeans. It’s been too long - all the pining, the built up frustration, and he’s needy. He finds it hard to believe you’d just be out partying at a place like this, certainly not the neighborly girl he knows. Bringing over leftovers you’d cooked for you and your dad, always with a little treat on the side and a soft smile, your frilly socks and white tennis shoes, collars that never revealed much past the very top of your gorgeous tits. But it still made him fucking crazy, all of it. He wanted to be the one to ruin it, to see who you really are underneath all of the fluff and sweetness. Because at the end of the day, he knows he wasn’t imagining that glint in your eye that told him you had more to offer.

Joel shakes the distractions and his dirty, racing thoughts, eyes scanning the room for you, remembering his mission. He is about to internally ask himself the question when your appearance answers everything he needs to know. Slack jawed, he looks on as you step out from behind one of the bars, tossing a smile over your shoulder at one of the other workers as you start to move carrying a tray full of drinks. 

When you emerge in full, strutting your way across the room, you’re wearing it. The outfit. The skimpy bra and panties to match all of the other servers. Your coworkers. Oh, he’s so thoroughly fucked right now, he thinks in a rising panic. But then again, so are you.

“Thank god you’re here! You’re seriously such a life saver,” Kristina says breathlessly as you breeze into the locker room. She’s one of the supervisors here at Oasis, the club you’ve been working at since the beginning of the summer. Sure, you were underage to serve alcohol, but the owners of this club seemed willing to turn a blind eye to a lot of things to gain good talent. Good pay, direct cash, and an insane amount in tips. Enough to pay your way through college, you hoped. Beyond all of that, once you’d gotten into the swing of things you found that you liked it, too. The power you felt in these heels, the way eyes followed you everywhere, you’d never felt so desired, so free or sexually open in your life. Although the only time you’d actually had sex was with your one ex-boyfriend, and it never felt like you do here - sexy, with raw desire filling the air, something so tangible you feel you can reach out and touch it sometimes.

You pull your shirt over your head, unclasping your regular bra and swapping it for the black, lacy one that lives inside your locker. Kristina stands nearby, unfazed by your bare chest as she thanks you. She’d called you about forty five minutes ago, begging for you to come in on your night off when another server, Rochelle, got sick right as things started to pick up. Friday night tips hadn’t sounded so bad when you had no plans apart from watching TV in your dad’s empty house, so it felt like a win.

“No problem,” you say, smiling at her. “Happy to help.”

“You’ve got section five tonight - Justin has Laura covering right now, just switch out when you’re ready, kay?”

You confirm, quickly finishing up your swap into your uniform, admiring yourself in the mirror with a soft smile, still getting used to the look of lingerie on you. You’d have been stupid to keep something like this in the house with either of your parents, not worth the risk if they found out about it.

The noise of the club blares, making you wince for a quick moment as you step out from the calmness of the locker room to the deafening noise beyond and get your bearings behind the bar. It really is busy, but all you can see is money when you glance around, admiring how full the place is tonight. 

You’re stopped in the middle of your flow after swinging by the bar to pick up drinks for one of your tables. It’s an extra flirtatious group of men who are practically ready to feast on you, but for all the poorly managed things about this club, they at least have a strict no touching rule with the staff that is enforced by any number of the security guards around. So you get to have your fun, keep your distance, and hope they pay extra for a lapdance from you and tip you well for it.

“You’ve got a, uh, private request,” Justin says, speaking quietly but leaning close to your ear so you can hear him. You pull back, a look of surprise on your face, a questioning glance that he confirms with a nod. “We’ll cover your tables. Room seven.”

Your mind spins faster as you walk towards the room. The rooms aren’t fully private, just a halfway curtain that gives the impression you’re more alone than you are. That luxury doesn’t come cheap, so whoever booked this room and asked for you must mean business. In fact, management hasn’t even put you on serving private rooms regularly yet, reserving that right to the more tenured employees until you work your way up the ladder. You smile, wondering who it could even be that specifically requested you - a regular that loved the banter you’d offered? A new customer who was drawn to you from across the room? It makes your heart skip a little, anticipation and a hint of nervousness coursing through you as you reach the curtain, stepping beyond to see your mystery customer.

Holy shit.

The sultry smile you’d plastered on fades right off your face, replaced with a deep set frown, your mouth open but unable to speak. Your stomach is rapidly dropping to depths it's never known before as your face starts to burn hot, cheeks feeling like they’re on fire. Your arms fly up to your chest, crossing them over as some kind of futile cover of yourself, but his eyes are trained there unashamedly, seeing the way your arms have really just accentuated your cleavage. He’s spread out on one of the loveseats, completely alone, knees wide apart, lap open and desperately inviting when it absolutely should not be.

“M-Mr. Miller?”

Joel was having far too much fun with this. The priceless look on your face that had wiped off the pretty grin you’d had was worth every damn penny he’d spent on this ridiculous room just to get you alone. You think you can cover up, somehow, but it only really offers Joel a better view of your bottom half, the lacy shorts style panties a treat for his weary gaze, the garters sitting against your soft skin one of the most enticing things he’s ever seen. He instantly feels his cock getting hard as his eyes rake up and down your body, settling on where your tits are now pressed together against your crossed arms.

“Mr. Miller?” you stutter out after a long, dense silence between the two of you.

“Don’t cover up on account’a me, sweetheart,” Joel replies cooly, threading his hands together behind his head, looking even more relaxed than when you’d first walked in. Your arms seem to tighten around you, the complete opposite of Joel.

“Wh-what are you -” you start trying to ask, and Joel notices how you suddenly look unbalanced, legs shaking underneath you. You attempt a step forward, bringing yourself further into the room and it gives Joel an even closer look at you, and god damn you’re gorgeous. Your skin looks flawless, so smooth and soft looking - the apex of your thighs coming closer to eye level as you move forward, all adorned by that lace that’s making him wild. He’s never seen anything close to this much of your skin before, and he has half a mind to grab you right here and toss you over his lap, taking everything he wants from you.

“Could ask you the same thing, couldn’t I?” he questions you, enjoying the tease, the way he sees your face screw up a little tighter at the very valid point he was making. You’re caught, and there’s no way around it now, he thinks smugly.

Your face falls, eyes going to the ground and watching your feet shift nervously in your heels. “I-I get it. You made your point. I’ll go home, okay? I know I shouldn’t be here -” you stammer out, and the guilty look on your face tells Joel what he’d already suspected - your dad knows absolutely nothing about this job of yours. 

“No, you shouldn’t,” Joel says, but he makes no move to get up, keeping a steady, unrelenting gaze on you. When you flick your eyes up to him, he sees they’re watery, and it makes his insides twinge with a strange mixture of regret and pleasure as he sees the tears brimming along the edges of your eyes, the subtle panic he can see growing. 

“You’re bein’ very bad, ain’t ya? ” Joel tuts, and you seem to almost flinch at the words from where you awkwardly stand in front of him still, unsure of what to do, where to go. Joel feels that pleasure growing warm in his gut, knowing he has you right where he wants you. “I mean, look at that outfit, sweetheart -” Joel starts with a low whistle, sitting forward slightly so you can see just how much he’s admiring it, his eyes narrowed in inspection, the weathered lines in his face apparent with the way his brows are raised. “Thas’ a far cry from those clothes you wear on my doorstep, play actin’ a good little girl.”

“N-no! I don’t - I didn’t mean - I am good.” You’re more and more visibly flustered, your arms wrapping around yourself as Joel continues to tease you, intent on bringing you down a few more notches.

Joel gives you a condescending glare. “Darlin’, ain’t nothin’ good about this. Lemme tell you what I think…” He leans back again, staring up at you, not once inviting you to sit, and knowing you won’t unless he does - he wants to make you sweat. “You never got to have that rebellious streak w’ both your parents bein’ who they are, did ya? An’ you thought you deserved it, to have a little fun, didn’t you?”

Your lip quivers and you blink back another set of hot, embarrassed tears, eyes trained back on the dark, faux marble floors, refusing to speak.

“Didn’t you?” he asks again with more bite. Fucking brat. Good thing Joel had plenty of tactics up his sleeve to whip a wannabe brat back into a good girl, he thinks with a sly smile to himself.

“Y-yes! Okay? I wanted to do something… for me,” you finally admit, feeling yourself shake a little at his demanding words.

“Now was that so hard?” Joel asks, becoming acutely aware of just how hard he is, almost painfully so now that he’s been teasing you, fantasizing about this moment for far too long. You shake your head, still hung downwards in shame before bringing your eyes back to his. They look soft, youthful and desperate, and Joel has never felt so turned on in his goddamn life, all the power he’s feeling rushing right to his cock.

“J-just… please don’t tell my dad,” you say, almost quiet enough Joel can’t hear it over the distant bump of the music. But he made it out, the words he’d been hoping you’d say, the ones he knew you’d have to utter.

“I won’t,” Joel starts, seeing the relief flood your face, nearly laughing at how quickly you put stock in his words before even hearing what else he has to say. So naive. “But what’s in it for me, hm? Ain’t gonna keep a secret without a little… incentive.” Joel’s hands plant on his thighs, running up the length of them as he watches your emotions shift in real time, your jaw going slack, eyes widening and barely blinking. You just stutter, completely taken aback and Joel had expected as much - you’re too good of a girl to navigate a situation like this. Good thing he already has his next words planned and loaded up to help you along.

“Laps feelin’ mighty empty, y’know…” Joel muses, leaning back and spreading his palms out on the leather couch next to his thighs. You flash your eyes to his legs, then his face again, mouth gaping open, finally realizing just what he’s asking for. 

You can’t believe this is happening to you. You should never have taken this job, kept such a big secret from your dad that you knew he’d absolutely kill you for if he found out. You were technically an adult now, but that didn’t mean you could just throw away his rules while you lived at home with him. 

And now you were being blackmailed by his friend. His very handsome friend, but you’re trying hard not to think about that right now. There’s no way he’s serious about this, no way he could actually want this from you? The neighbor girl, his friend’s daughter? Mr. Miller had always been kind, just a bit of a grumpy edge to him but he loved to joke around with your dad. You often caught them laughing together, too shy to have inserted yourself enough with someone who made your skin grow hot just from glancing into his dark, chocolate brown eyes. But without that buffer of your dad, here alone in the dim lighting of the club, it was like he’d become another man. 

“Y-you want me to…?” you say, blinking hard as you stare at his thick thighs and crotch, all spread wide open. It’s enticing - normally even with an attractive customer you find yourself thinking of it more as work - fun work, but still work. But with Joel… you’d felt heat pooling between your thighs as he observed you this entire conversation, the desire starting to outweigh the embarrassment you were feeling. 

“Paid for it, didn’t I?” he remarks practically, a nip of impatience edging his voice as you swallow hard and step forward. 

“Y-you don’t have to… we can get a refund if you don’t want me to do it…” you say, trying to remind yourself not to mumble, but your nerves are getting the best of you. 

Joel’s head shakes slowly, his hand drifting out smoothly from his body towards you, tenderly locking on to where your wrist dangles at your side and pulls you closer. Closer. Closer, until he’s pulling you down so that you have to bend down, coming face to face with him. Your cheeks burn, breathing heavy and stunted as the tension in the air thickens, his lips so close to yours. You can’t help but glance at them, the inviting curve of his lips drawing you in, but Joel’s eyes are elsewhere, peering down right between your bodies where your tits are on such display for him, spilling out of the bra at this angle. 

“Like I said,” he coos softly, eyes obviously drifting up towards your face, “I need a little incentive to not spill your dirty little secret, darlin’.” A smirk grows on his face before he lets go of your wrist, and you stumble backwards a little. 

“Y-you -” you stutter again, trying to counter him, but you come up short. “O-okay…” you mutter with a sigh, taking a deep breath before you hesitantly turn around, facing your back to him. 

Joel tuts immediately at your lack of enthusiasm. “None of that, gimme the full show, sweetheart, or the deal’s off.”

You huff quietly, taking a few steps away from Joel, readying yourself. He can see the change in your demeanor already, the more confident strides you take before turning around, facing him again. Then you begin your routine, practiced and ready, pacing towards him with a feline, graceful energy, heels clicking on the floor as you slip one leg in front of the other, heading towards him. You almost hesitate, pushing yourself through the doubt as your hand reaches out, grazing along his shoulder, moving inward towards his collarbone.

Your fingers drag along his chest, where one button of his flannel shirt is open, wishing you could delve your whole hand inside and feel the more than likely gorgeous planes of his chest. Christ, he’s so meaty, so thick everywhere you touch. 

A soft rumble escapes his chest before you turn around, grinding your ass downwards and then back up, teasing him by getting a little lower each time. But it’s not enough, he knows you’re holding back, your movements a little stilted and awkward. His cell phone is out of his pocket before he can think much more about it, snapping a photo of the way your ass is grinding down towards him, just enough of your side profile in the photo that it’s undeniably you. 

“Come on, know you can do better’n that.” Joel clicks his tongue, making you freeze, hovering awkwardly above him. “Do this for a livin’ lord knows how many nights a week. If you ain’t gonna give me what I paid my hard earned money for I can call your daddy right now… maybe jus’ text him this picture. What d’you think about that?” Joel asks, holding his cell phone forward and into your eyesight. You gasp, hands grabbing for it just as he snatches it away. 

“D-delete that! Please!” you cry out, feeling panic squeeze at your chest. Fuckfuckfuck you are so thoroughly fucked right now if Joel has photo evidence.

Joel smiles down at his phone, peering at the image one last time before pocketing it. “No can do, sweetheart. Now, I don’t really wanna have to ask again, yeah?”

You only gape at him for a moment longer before snapping your mouth shut and positioning yourself above his lap again. “F-fine. Jesus,” you mutter angrily, finding that the irritation you’re feeling is starting to spur you on as you begin to move again, feeling yourself turned on by Joel’s musk in your space, the heat of his body radiating towards yours in this close proximity. Not to mention you can sense just how turned on he is, how much this is affecting him as you move with more conviction, hips delicately swinging in front of him. If he wants a show, you’ll give him your best yet, you think with determination.

“F-fuck… attagirl,” Joel lets slip when you brush his crotch with your ass. He’s barely holding it together with your curves swaying tantalizingly in front of him, something even his wildest dreams likely couldn’t have conjured up. He’d never think he’d see you like this - so sensual, so fucking gorgeously in control of your sexual aura that it could make a man lose control. Your customers were beyond lucky, he thinks with a pang of jealousy shooting through him, making his blood boil hotter, his possessive side come out. While he’d been at home pining over you, thinking about you with a hand stroking his own cock, you’d been here - rubbing your pretty ass on all those lucky fucks and their undeserving crotches. 

The thought makes him insane, the image of you doing this to any other man, so when you lean back against him, pressing your back to his chest, your ass just beginning to grind on his jeans, his hands go to your hips instinctively trying to bring you down onto him, to claim you. You slow your movements to a stop, leaning your head back towards his ear so that you’re almost entirely pressed against him now. 

“Not s-supposed to touch,” you say, you voice the only thing giving away just how nervous you still are. 

“Don’t fuckin’ care, if I’m honest,” Joel huffs back quietly, his voice husky and breathless. You bite back a moan as his rough hands wrap around each side of your waist tightly and help guide you that last inch downwards, sending your ass fully rolling over his crotch. 

“H-holy shit…” you whimper when you feel the rough denim brush along the outside of your panties. You feel a flush run through you, your skin burning hot as you realize you won’t be able to hide how wet you’ve gotten for very long. It began slowly, just with his brooding, questioning eyes on you, now reaching a fever pitch as you’re in his space and feeling the prominent bulge in his pants. 

It’s been far too long since you were satisfied. Truly satisfied. 

Your breath catches as Joel fingers wiggle inward a little after hearing how much you’re getting into it, even closer to the waistband of your panties, the two of you facilitating the grinding motion together as you bear down a little more on his lap. Joel lets out a pleased hum, still somehow giving you the sense that he’s the one holding back now. His hands still have an air of respect to them, like they’re vibrating with the need to wrap completely around you and pull you to him, to roam your skin and grab at all the forbidden parts of you. 

When the thought flashes across your mind, you realize you want him to. 

“T-touch me…” you whisper, immediately clamping your betraying mouth shut as the words float out into the air. You hold your breath, waiting to see if Joel heard you.

“What’s that, gorgeous? Couldn’t quite hear you,” Joel says, his tone a low, mocking sound that tells you he’s baiting you, that he wants to play with his food before eating it. Your eyes narrow before they shut completely, rolling back when he forces your ass to move along his bulge again.

“F-fu- touch me,” you spit out a bit louder. “Please.”

“You poor thing,” you hear him tut from behind you, forcing your hips upwards and away before grasping onto your hands, turning you around to face him. “Can’t get us in trouble now, can we?” he asks tauntingly, his eyes giving you a heated staredown as they widen, almost looking sympathetic if there wasn’t so much of an appetite behind them.

You whimper, visibly whining as your face screws up, squeezing his hands with yours. Joel tugs, so lightly that you’d almost think it was your own idea as you start to come back down towards him, pressing the warmth between your legs against his thigh. You sigh shakily, eyes fluttering shut as you slowly swing one leg over top of his and bear down a little more, straddling his thigh.

“We w-won’t… we won’t…” you breathe out, knowing it’s not the complete truth, but room seven is especially tucked back, hardly getting any traffic. In fact, it was known for bending the rules a bit. 

“She’s so needy, huh? You all wet for me, sweetheart, that it? She need a little relief?” Joel taunts, and when you open your eyes to meet his gaze, he’s practically pouting. Your cheeks burn at how desperate he’s making you sound, but your hips twitch of their own accord, sending a zing of pleasure up your spine and you whimper quietly again, giving yourself away even further. 

“Y-yes, Mr. Miller…”

“Keep on doin’ your little dance, pretty girl, jus’ right there,” Joel urges you, a hand finding the small of your back, the other locked onto your hip as you start to rock forward, then back again. Relief instantly floods you as your clit brushes against the ripples in the hard denim, making you move harder against him, mouth popped open in fresh ecstasy. 

“Close that mouth before I shove somethin’ in it, you fuckin’ tease,” Joel grits out, his eyes burning wildly, finally giving you a glimpse at how affected he is as he keeps his stare on your face, starting to sheen with sweat. Your mouth snaps shut, a stifled moan pulling from your throat and behind your closed lips, threatening to burst out of you.

“This ain’t against the rules? Havin’ a pretty girl ride my thigh?” he asks in cruel teasing, flickering eyes glancing down to where your hips are shamelessly rocking on him.

“I- I don’t - know-“ you choke out, your legs starting to tremble as the pleasure slowly, steadily builds deep inside of you. “I d-don’t care…”

“Riiight, she’s on her rebellious streak now, ain’t she?” Joel mutters facetiously, smiling a devious grin as he watches your face screw up in concentration. You truly don’t care, you can’t care anymore when whatever the hell is going on feels so good. Damn this job, damn Joel’s games, you’re going to get what you need out of this right now, too. Your head is thrown back as your whines and moans escalate, showing Joel just how close you’re getting. 

“That’s it, god you’re beggin’ for it, ain’t you? So dirty…” Joel’s hands grip tighter along your hips, starting to drag you inwards, towards his aching, clothed bulge. “Beggin’ for your daddy’s friend's cock while you make a mess all over his thigh, aren’t you? Who would’ve thought a good girl like you’d be wantin’ to get fucked by an old man?”

His words make you clench around nothing, the harsh tone making your insides twist in pleasure as you roll your hips a little faster. “F-fuck… I - I need to - Mr. Miller -” you plead aimlessly, feeling your core tightening, the obscene wetness driving you to full on madness as your pussy aches, cries out for Joel.

Your leg is being dragged over top of him, forcing you to fully straddle his lap, thighs stretched wide and burning at how wide you’re going to accommodate his huge frame. You’re in disbelief at the rough, needy noise Joel makes as soon as your cunt is pulled down onto him, Joel’s hands forcing your hips to start thrusting against him. You nearly lose your balance, wrapping your arms around his neck to hang on as he looks at you with determination. Hands planted firmly on your ass, squeezing hard as he relishes in the feel of finally having you like this, feeling your warm heat seeping through his denim right to where he’s desperate to have you most.

“Joel,” he corrects in his haze, stunting your hips to press down hard on his cock, sending a gasp flying out of your mouth at the sheer size of what’s to come. Your mouth is practically watering, so close to what your body craves now, what it needs. When your fingers graze the button of his jeans, he stiffens, seeming to snap out his lustful fog as he swats your hand away.

“Fuck… later,” Joel says suddenly, using every bit of self restraint to push you back, moving your heat from his bulge, the instantaneous lack of you devastating him to the core. 

Your brows quickly knit in confusion at the sudden change in course. “W-why…?” you whisper breathlessly, bringing your lips near his neck, kissing the rough skin, working your way up to his patchy, gray flecked beard. His hand is at the back of your head, yanking you backwards by the hair, tearing your lips off of him in a brutal rush. He holds you there, the pull on your scalp starting to prickle harder as you sit staring at him like a tamed animal being held up by its scruff. 

“Can’t fuck you properly in here. Too many fuckin’… people. Prying eyes wantin’ to see what all the fuss is about.”

“I-I can be quiet,” you retort, hating just how much it sounds like begging but the hold he has on you right now is so intense, so inexplicable that you’d say anything, you think.

Joel huffs, a tiny, incredulous snort coming out of his nose. “No, you can’t. Not if I’m doin’ what I plan on doin’ to you. We can’t have anyone come snoopin’, can we?”

You shake your head, suddenly wondering if he’s about to drag you out of here, take you home to his bed, or your bed, you think with a shudder. You feel a pull inside your belly, thinking you just might let him if you don’t get your head back on straight soon. 

“An’ you still gotta work the rest of your shift, make your money, don’t you babydoll?” Joel says with a smirk growing, making your face fall completely into a deep frown. “Call it a little punishment for bein’ such a bad, naughty girl, yeah? Then you can finish up givin’ me my piece of the pie.”

You find yourself gaping at him for the umpteenth time tonight in disbelief. He wasn’t going to just leave you… like this? Was he? You can feel your clit pulsing against your panties, your body tense and wound up, on the precipice of coming so hard you saw stars only a few moments ago. 

“Up, now,” Joel says, shifting his legs so that you’re forced to move, scrambling up onto your shaky legs, feeling like a newborn fawn getting your footing again.

“W-wait… I already - didn’t I… give you what you want?” you ask, suddenly feeling yourself snapping out of the heady, lust filled haze Joel had you in. This was insane, right? You can’t fuck him, you shouldn’t. It wasn’t right for either of you, and you’d been crazy to have just been this close to letting him stuff you full.

Joel’s head tilts, watching your slightly messy hair and smudged makeup for a few beats with a discerning gaze. “Nah, darlin’, you just gave me what I paid for. This is what I want.”

Your heart and stomach sink to new depths. “N-no. Joel! You said… if I gave you the lap dance you wouldn’t tell my dad. And I gave you a hell of a lot more than that -” Joel stands, interrupting you, coming forward and crowding your space, his hulking mass like a tower next to you, shadowing you with his commanding energy.

“Watch your mouth,” he snips, a hand gripping onto your wrist. “I’m the one callin’ the shots here, an’ I changed my mind once I saw just how pretty that sweet little pussy of yours can be. So here’s what’s gonna happen…” Joel’s fingers come up to ghost along your cheek, trailing down your neck, along the swells of your breasts as he speaks. You can’t help but shudder at the attention, how good it feels on your sensitive, needy skin.

“You go on out there, tell ‘em what a great job you did in here, work the rest of your shift like a good girl, thinkin’ about just how fuckin’ wet you got these pretty panties, how bad she needs a little help from Mr. Miller.”

Your breath is caught in your throat at his words, hitching further as his touch skates further down, sending your hips twitching forward. 

“An’ I’ll be waitin’ for you after, darlin’, for what I’m owed.”

Your heart pounds as you slip out the side door and into the alleyway, pausing to let the cool night air wash over you as you gather your thoughts. Your mind is at war with itself, one half of you knowing this is a terrible idea, setting you up for complete disaster in the future. How could you ever face Joel again if you two took it that far? Then again, you weren’t sure how you’d be able to face him in the daylight already, anyways, without your cheeks burning so hot they caught fire. The other half of you was winning, had been winning as you worked the rest of your shift in a complete daze, hardly recognizing your own movements as your body burned hot and needy, mind completely scrambled by the conundrum of your father’s closest friend coming onto you and more.

You spent the rest of your shift coming to terms with the fact that you do want to fuck him. So badly. Even if it’s wrong, a complete mistake in every single way. You also know your mind isn’t to be trusted right now, running on pure horniness and desperation, never having been fucked in the way you know Joel could. His experience, his power, the way his lustful eyes had drank you in like the sweetest balm - it was all too hard to turn down. You turn, looking the opposite way down the alleyway from your car, starting to think you might be able to sneak around the block and get in your car and drive off without him noticing, wondering exactly where he’s waiting for you. You don’t see a soul, hear anyone else in this alley apart from the distant music from inside and chatter from along the main street which is a far cry from where the employee exit to Oasis dropped you. 

You take the risk, heart thrumming wildly as you start down the alley, saying a silent apology to Joel in your head, and then yourself for letting this secret come out, knowing Joel was definitely not bluffing if you didn’t follow through on your end of the deal. Better to face punishment from your father than have to deal with the consequences of fucking his best friend and facing the feelings that would come after. You’re only halfway down the alleyway before a warm, rough hand is slapped against your mouth and an arm is draped around your middle and tugging you backwards. A wall of muscle meets you and you whimper loudly behind the hand, starting to yell.

“Shh, shh, no screamin’,” the voice coos, distinctly recognizable. Shit.

“Tryna sneak off on me, huh, pretty girl?” Joel says next to your ear, his neck craning down to breathe you in, groaning. It’s so feminine, so light and soft, the faded scent of your perfume and body wash makes him instantly mad with need for you. His hand slips down, giving your lips some room to answer now that you’ve stopped fighting him, leaning back into his hold a little more.

“N-no,” you choke out, lying. “S-swear.”

“Didn’t change your mind? Want me to send those pretty pictures to your daddy?” Joel coos, starting to walk you towards the brick wall of the building, pushing your body forwards until you’re pressed against the cool, scratchy surface. You hold back a moan when his body leans into you fully, completely dominating you as you’re at his mercy against the wall.

“I j-just d-don’t think we should -” you utter half heartedly, feeling heat rush to your cheeks, fearing what might come next after your suggestion.

“Why’s that?” he asks, dripping with condescension. “Seemed you couldn’t wait to get stuffed full of me not too long ago, yeah?”

“I-it’ll be weird after, w-won’t it? How can we… be around my dad? How can you?” You finally find your voice, your bravery, to ask him the question you’d been thinking the entire night.

A small chuckle blows past the side of your head from where Joel’s mouth sits against your head. “Think we both learned tonight I’m willin’ to keep a secret,” he says, his voice getting more harsh, a needy coarseness to it that sends goosebumps along your skin.  Joel feels a frenzy overcoming him when he notices your thighs clenching, how shallow and wanting your breaths are becoming now. He can’t wait much longer… can’t stand the torture he’s endured at your sweet teasing for a second longer.

“I-I want it…” you finally say in a harsh whisper, your resolve faded within seconds. Your ass ruts back into his hardness, an ache that hadn’t subsided in the least in the last hours as he waited for you. Patiently. Like he had already been all of these months. 

“You know I’m gonna ruin anyone else f’you, darlin’, don’t you?” he asks as his lips trace along your shoulder, now clad in a tank top that you’d changed back into. The bits of bare skin he touches taste like heaven, feel almost unbearably soft and inviting against his plush lips. He couldn’t possibly deserve any of this, but he couldn’t help but take it, anyhow. He could pay for his sins later. Your neck is next on his list, another supple spot of heaven to taste as he mutters the words again. “Don’t you?”

You just nod at first, dumbstruck by the feel of his lips, turning your head to try to meet them. “Yes,” you tell him softly, knowing it’s the truth, and there isn’t a turning back from this moment anymore. His lips are suddenly all there is, devouring your own whole as he takes in bounds, your tongues and teeth and mouths in a desperate clash, panting into one another as Joel starts to tug at your jeans, fingers flying desperately to tear them down.

You let him.

The second he’s pushing into you, you see bright white flash across your vision - that pulse of pain shooting through the very fabric of your being, your nerves lit up and screaming out from deep inside of you. Joel’s groan is barely audible through the ringing in your ears as he doesn’t stop, finding solace in your tight heat when he pushes himself into you in full. It’s heaven incarnate, you are heaven incarnate, he thinks, practically panting out the words as he feels your wet tightness pulling him in, walls pulsing as you adjust to the sheer volume that is Joel. Your cheek is crushed against the brick, mouth propped open in shock, the rough scrape on your face the only thing keeping you grounded as you whine out a long, wanton sound, something completely foreign to you.

“So… fuckin’... dumb on this cock,” Joel utters as he starts to move, a slow drag of his cock out and back in before he makes good on his promise to ruin anyone else for you, to never have a comparison to the blinding pleasure you feel rocking your entire universe as he quickly ruts into you. “Fuckin’ heaven.”

“J- fuck -” you stutter out, completely speechless. When one arm wraps around you, finding your clit, needy and puffy from hours of torturous edging, everything else melts away. The dark alley, the fact that you could be seen at any moment, the way you weren’t even sure you trusted Joel to keep your secret despite you following through on your end - none of it fucking mattered anymore.

“W-wanted this so bad, y’don’t know what you do to a man, sweetheart… Jesus fuck,” Joel says, uncharacteristically soft as his hips roll, sending your own bouncing onto his hurried fingers swirling along your clit. Desperation clings to the both of you now, hot and heavy air, hurried movements like this could be torn away from the two of you any second.

“Joel… I’m fu- I’m close, so close, please…” you rush out, feeling a pull of warmth at your center, his cock brushing along just the right spot to send you to that edge. You start to moan louder, the noise echoing in the open space around the two of you, your hand hurriedly slapping over your mouth to muffle it as the high starts to rock through you. His name screams from behind your hand, the sound still clear enough to send Joel to a state of crazed fervor, thrusting into you at an impossible pace, sending you bouncing harder against the wall. You twitch and shake, your eyes rolling back as you come harder than you have in months, maybe ever. Just like he’d promised, the absolute bastard.

“Fuckin’ creamin’ on this cock, shit, you’re so fuckin’ wet,” Joel marvels breathlessly as the obscene squelching of your bodies meeting only gets louder. “Oh, good girl, such a pretty, messy slut for a dirty old man, aren’t you?”

“G-god, yes, fuck… I am…” you whimper out with flustered nods, completely spent as you come down from your high, letting Joel use your cunt to chase his own now. You twitch at the overstimulation, your body still tingling pleasantly as he turns you into his own personal fuck toy, your body his for the taking. 

“Pretty as a picture, all fucked out like this,” he says slyly one hand planted on the wall next to you now, the other playing lazily with your aching clit. “Never gonna be able to give me up now, are you?”

You shake your head, lost in the moment with your answers as you feel another orgasm washing over you, less intense but still pleasant waves of pleasure rolling through while you gasp for breath, completely full of Joel each time he thrusts heartily into you, stealing away your air. 

“Please… c-can’t…” you mumble through your climax, hardly able to take the stimulation anymore but knowing the sick little part of your brain is happy to do it for him, let him use you until he’s completely spent himself. 

You don’t have to wait much longer for your wish, hearing Joel grunting, almost whimpering when he’s suddenly gone from you with a wet, slick pop, leaving you cavernous empty. He barely makes it out of you before his hand grips his cock, twitching in his palm as he comes towards the ground right in between your legs, ropes of cum coating your pulled down jeans and underwear, the brick wall, the pavement below you. His forehead is pressed to your back, sticky and hot as he catches his breath for a silent beat.

You’ve never felt anything like this, this satisfaction, this pure unadulterated filthiness and pleasure. The addiction already grips you, your poor, sore cunt already anticipating the next time he could ruin you. 

But then it hits you like a train, pulling you out of your reverent little bubble - this can’t happen again. It’s out of your system, out of his, and now you both have a secret to keep. You start to pull your pants up, the movement seeming to bring Joel to his senses, reaching down along with you. 

“Sh-shit, here, let me,” he says in a rasp, tugging your jeans up, the immediate feeling of wetness sticking to your body and making you cringe. “Little souvenir for ya,” he comments cockily, knowing his cum is now sticking to your skin, knowing that thought will sustain him for at least the next few hours. But that’s wishful thinking, he realizes, knowing that he could find himself buried in you the entire night, over and over again, considering hauling you away to do just that when you interrupt his thinking. 

“I- I’m sorry…” you mutter, not even fully sure of why you even say it. For some reason, you are sorry that you put the two of you in this position, even if it ended in something so incredible that you have a hard time even putting it into words. 

Joel spins you to face him, thumbing your chin and pinching it, bringing your face to look him in the eyes. They look a little softer than they had inside the club, more like the neighbor you’ve come to know. So charming and disarming when he wants to be. 

“Don’t be,” he says, leaning down to kiss you more gently than he had before, something tender and sweet that you find yourself immediately falling for, body melting into his as you hang your arms around his neck, wondering when along the way you started feeling so comfortable with this.

“Besides,” Joel adds, a devious smirk pulling his lips upwards. “Your daddy ain’t home for a few more days. Think we can find a few more ways to convince me to keep your little secret.”

[persevereforahappyending]

A Legacies Secret |15 - Final|

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: You just wanted a happy life with your girlfriend but then Ghostface attacks, revealing long thought to be buried family secrets.

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 2.6k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

Everything happened so fast, first she was getting her inhaler, then next thing she knew Amber was shooting Liv in the head. Tara didn’t think when she grabbed Amber’s arm, she just was trying to save Sam and then you. Tara had spent most of her time duck taped in the closet until Sam rescued her. She had wanted to go find you, but Sam wouldn’t let her, she said they needed a plan. Their plan worked, after Richie and Amber’s little monologue Amber came to get her again, finally separating the two and allowing Tara and Sam to make their move.

While Sam took out Richie, Tara handled Amber. She shot her best friend in the head. She didn’t even hesitate to do it. She did it partly because Amber was running at her sister, Gale, and Sidney with a knife, but another part of her just wanted her dead. She hadn’t fully processed it yet, but she knew Richie was with Sam the night she was attacked, the night that started all this, that meant Amber attacked her. She also wasn’t stupid, she knew Amber didn’t like you, she didn’t think Amber’s hatred was also murderous but now she knew, Amber was the one that had hurt you, Amber was the one who killed Dewey.

She couldn’t get the image of what happened out of her head. When she didn’t see you with the others she ran into the kitchen, seeing you lying in a pool of your own blood. Your shirt was soaked in blood, it seemed Amber stabbed you over a dozen times. Your right pant leg was also soaked in blood where Amber had shot you.

Despite all the blood Tara didn’t hesitate to drop to your side, ignoring the pain of her own injuries. You were still conscious, looking directly up at her but it didn’t seem as if you were really seeing her. Tara kept whispering to you but there was no reaction, you just kept staring at her with love then confusion. She tried to get you to stay awake, but you couldn’t keep your eyes open.

Tara waited impatiently as the paramedics came. She had to be held back by Sam as they loaded you onto a backboard, into the ambulance, and then took off. Tara wanted to ride with you, but the medics refused and made her get in her own ambulance. She was vaguely aware of Chad and Mindy being loaded up as well, but her mind was only on you.

She couldn’t lose you; she didn’t know what she would do without you. You were the only one who was always there for her, the one person who loved her unconditionally, she couldn’t handle losing you. You were too good for her, she always knew that, but now it was clear. Her best friend tried to kill you and wanted to make you suffer just because Tara loved you and not her. You didn’t deserve any of the pain Amber and Richie inflicted on you, you deserved so much better than all of them, you’d didn’t deserve to die because of them.

Tara was sitting in the waiting room; she had been there ever since she was discharged. You were still in surgery, and they wouldn’t let her see you. She couldn’t help but wonder if this is what it was like for you, you were at her side the second she woke up, you had to wait around for hours not knowing if she’d live or die. The only difference between you waiting and her waiting was that she had Sam by her side, you had been all alone.

“Ms. Weathers?” a doctor asked, snapping Tara out of her thoughts.

She instantly sat up, Gale sat across from them, she had been there since getting herself looked at as well. Tara nor Sam hadn’t said a word to Gale, they barely acknowledged them when Sidney came up to sit with Gale. She knew you wanted nothing to do with Gale but the one good thing about having Gale there was that they could get answers. Gale was your birth mother, she was family, the doctor had no problem informing Gale of your condition, he had refused to do so when Tara asked for an update on you.

“Yes?” Gales said, standing up on shaking legs.

“It was touch and go for a while,” the doctor began. “But she’ll make it.” Tara released a breath; you were going to be okay. “Her previous stitches were ripped open, she was stabbed fifteen times,” Gale tried to hold back a sob. Tara couldn’t help but bring a hand to her mouth, you had lost so much blood. “She was shot in the knee, luckily the bullet was a through and through. It will take a lot of physical therapy but I’m hopeful she’ll be able to walk without much issue or assistance.”

“Can we see her?”

“Yes,” the doctor nodded. “But I’d like to keep it to only one or two people.”

“Thank you.”

Tara’s eyes fell to the floor when the doctor left. You were stabbed so many times, even more than she was. You were shot, you were actually shot, Amber shot you in the fucking knee. Tara couldn’t even imagine the kind of physical therapy you’d need, even if the doctor thought you’d be okay.

“You should go,” Gale said, snapping her out of her thoughts. Tara looked up at her, furrowing her brow. “She’s definitely not going to want to see me,” Gale gave a sad smile. “You should be there when she wakes up.”

Tara nodded, not able to find her voice. She looked back at Sam to make sure it was okay. Sam nodded and offered her a soft smile. “I’ll be right here,” she whispered.

Tara nodded and hesitantly made her way down the hall. She knew it was over, but she was at ease knowing Sam would be just in the waiting room if she needed anything. She didn’t intend to leave your side though, not until you woke up, probably not even then. You were by her side the entire time and she would do the same for you.

Tara let out a shaky breath as she rested her hand on the door handle to your room. She finally pushed the handle down, struggling as she tried to squeeze through the door with her crutches. The doors were heavy, she was regretting not asking Sam to walk her to your room. When she finally managed to get into the room without falling, she was instantly met with the sight of you unconscious in the hospital bed.

She made her way to your bedside, looking down at your broken body. You were in a hospital gown; she could see the bandage around your arm from when you had first been slashed with the knife. She could make out the bandaging around your shoulder where you were stabbed peaking out from the gown by your neck. Your leg was wrapped up, propped up with something hanging from the ceiling to elevate your leg but also prevent you from moving it. Based on how you looked at the moment it would be a while before you could properly bend your knee again. The one thing she couldn’t see was all the stab wounds under your gown, she knew they were there though.

She gently plopped herself down in the chair by your bed side, scooting it as close to you as best as she could. Then she just stared at you, you didn’t look in pain at least, you were unconscious and were probably being pumped full of all kinds of meds, but it brought her comfort knowing you didn’t seem to be in pain at the moment.

She wondered what went through your head as you sat at her bedside waiting for her to wake up just a few days ago. She couldn’t imagine what was going through your head because her mind was spiraling. All Tara wanted to do was get up and pace around, she wanted you to open your eyes so she could see that you were okay. She wanted nothing more than to sleep, the exhaustion from the past few days catching up to her but she didn’t want to sleep knowing you might wake up.

You had a TV in the room, but she didn’t bother turning it on, she didn’t even want to try flipping through channels to put something on in the background. She slouched down in the chair, resting her head on the back cushion as she kept her broken leg stretched out. She kept her gaze on you, the light rise and fall of your chest being the only thing she could focus on, she could hear the steady beep of your heartrate monitor as her eyes got too heavy for her to keep open anymore.

Tara’s eyes snapped open, she winced as she jumped awake, jostling her leg a little too much. She looked around trying to figure out what startled her until her eyes landed on you. She furrowed her brow until her eyes widened at seeing you looking back at her.

“You’re awake!” she sat up in her chair. She was sure she would have jumped to her feet if she could. “How long have you been awake?” She was mentally kicking herself; she should have been awake and alert when you woke up, what if you had needed something.

“Just a minute,” you whispered. Your eyelids still seemed heavy with sleep; Tara wouldn’t be surprised if you passed out again a minutes later. “Are you okay?”

Tara let out a small chuckle, but it quickly turned into a sob. You got stabbed and shot, you were literally on the brink of death, and yet you were asking if she was okay. You frowned and tried to sit up once she started sobbing, as if you wanted to comfort her. She was quick to wipe her tears when she saw you drop your head back down onto the pillow, pinching your eyes shut as you gritted your teeth, trying to hold in your scream. She didn’t want you straining yourself just to try and comfort her.

“Take it easy,” she ordered. A few more tears fell but she ignored them, it was her turn to make sure you were okay. You opened your mouth to argue with her. “I’m fine. You’re the only one I’m worried about.”

“I’m okay,” you whispered.

“I thought I lost you,” her voice cracked. “There was so much blood, it just kept coming, there was nothing I could do,” she shook her head. The image of you bleeding out on the kitchen floor was forever burned in her head. “They didn’t know if you were going to make it.”

“Hey,” you whispered. You moved your hand across the bed like you were trying to reach out to her, but you winced at the slight movement.

Tara didn’t hesitate to reach over and grab your hand with her good hand. She closed her eyes and let out another sob, your grip was weak, but she could feel you. “I’m right here,” you said again. “I’m okay.” Tara nodded, taking in your words, you were right there, she was touching you, she could feel you, you were okay.

“Now, is it over?” Tara looked up, she didn’t miss the fear in your eyes, you were trying to be strong and comfort her, but you had been bleeding out, you had no idea what happened, you had no idea if Ghostface was still out there.

“It’s over,” Tara nodded. “I’m okay, Sam’s okay, Gale and Sidney.” Your jaw clenched slightly when she said Gale’s name, but she decided not to comment on it, you had enough to deal with.

“Chad and Mindy?”

“They’re going to make it.” Tara’s full focus had been on you, but she managed to get updates on Chad and Mindy while at the hospital, their mom had been kind enough to inform her. She had yet to visit them, but they were sharing a hospital room, awake, and already arguing with each other.

“Richie and…” you swallowed, wincing before you could say her name, Tara wasn’t sure if it was because of the pain or because Amber was the one who had done this to you.

“Dead,” Tara said, some lingering anger dripping into her tone. Your eyes widened at that. “Sam took care of Richie, and I shot Amber.”

You remained quiet for a few minutes. She knew you weren’t friends with Amber, and you never seemed to trust Richie, but it was still a lot for someone to process. “Are you okay?”

Tara looked down, thinking to herself, she really didn’t want to go down that rabbit hole. She knew she shouldn’t be okay, there was no reason she should be okay, no one would be okay after what they just went through. “Yeah,” she tried to sound convincing.

“Tar-”

“Can we talk about something else?” she rubbed the back of your hand, giving you a sad smile. The last few days had been filled with nothing but darkness and pain, she just wanted something good.

You stared into her eyes for a moment, clearly searching for something. She was hoping you’d just let it be for now and let her change the subject. “Where do you want to go?” you finally asked.

Tara furrowed her brow until a genuine smile broke out on her face. “New York,” she said easily. She wanted to get the hell out of the small town and as far away from Woodsboro as possible.

“Sounds perfect.”

 Tara got up from her chair only to sit on the edge of your bed. She ran her fingers through your hair as she looked down into your eyes. “I still want to graduate first.”

You let out an exaggerated groan, but it quickly turned into a chuckle. “Then we can finally live out our dream,” she whispered as she leaned down until her lips were barely brushing against yours.

“I’m pretty sure your sister will be living with us,” you whispered back.

“Don’t ruin it,” Tara sighed. She smiled as she finally connected her lips to yours, giving you a long, yet gentle kiss.

She knew you were right. Even if the two of you moved to New York she was sure her sister would follow. Just as she knew that Sam would never settle for letting her live on her own with you. It wasn’t exactly like the two of you always talked about but having her sister back and getting to have a life with you still seemed pretty perfect.

“I love you,” Tara whispered when she pulled away.

“Love you too,” you whispered back.

“Now, get some sleep.”

She continued to run her fingers through your hair, gently scratching your scalp as your eyes slowly closed. “Lay with me,” you whispered.

Tara looked around until deciding to grab the chair she had been sitting in and dragged it until it was pressed up against your bed. She slipped off the bed and back into the chair. As much as she wanted to lie with you the two of you each had an injured leg, and you couldn’t move without your various stab wounds causing you pain. Tara settled for resting her head on the mattress at an awkward angle and holding your hand.

She rubbed comforting circles on the back of your hand, listening to your steady breathing as she closed her eyes. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep, and she was right behind you. This was the first time since she was attacked that she closed her eyes and wasn’t worried about what new horror she might wake up to.

Taglist: @r-3-becca

[scourgeofmyownbrain]

My siblings in Primus, holy fucking shit. I made an Optimus Height Chart. This took me.. SO LONG TO DO. Were y'all aware of how many Optimus designs there are?? Because I don't have all of them on this chart, and I still have TWENTY NINE (29, a 2 and a 9) out of the THIRTY SIX (36, a 3 and a 6) that exist. I didn't include the SEVEN (7) because either they were just a temporary upgraded form, or I already had multiple designs from that universe that were the same height and having all of them is redundant and repetitive.

40 fucking years and nearly as many distinct designs, I deserve a medal, honestly. Optimus has been in every single piece of media the Transformers franchise has ever made. Working on this in tandem with the Megatron one was a wild choice of mine, but I did it.

I included Optimus Primal on this chart. Both are named Optimus, I should not have to explain myself. Big Monkey and Big Truck are the same. No, your honour, I do not plead insanity; why do you ask?

Quick Disclaimer, if any of the images look weird, it's because I had to stitch a few separate images together to create a full body shot of the character.

Links to my Bumblebee Chart and my Megatron Chart. !!NEW!! -> Shockwave, Soundwave, Ratchet, and Ironhide. For future reference, all these charts will be filed under my "Transformers Height Charts" tag and my "aka the adventures of a..." tag. Hopefully, my bumblebee post is acting up and idk if the same issue will happen here.

Master Post

Explanations below the cut because I have fucking WORDS to say. This is gonna be a long one... 29 separate designs...

G1 Beast Wars V1 - ~9 Feet (Primal. Straight from TFWiki, converted to feet and rounded, the tiniest baby man gorilla)

G1 Beast Machines - ~8 Feet (Primal. The wiki failed me, but I found a old forum discussion where they made a chart comparing all the BW/M characters. Glorious stuff, I commend their effort.)

G1 Beast Wars V2 - ~10 Feet (Primal. TFWiki with the clutch, I will not always be this lucky.)

Earth Spark - ~15 Feet (Prime. No official numbers have been given, but I have already figured out how tall Bee is, and I was able to compare the two and get a good estimate. This is the shortest non-animal universe to date holy shit. Look at this, I'm showing my work

I am having a conniption they are so short)

RID 2001 - ~16 Feet (Prime. TFWiki once more, we love one source for everything)

Unicron Trilogy V2&3/ENG&CYB - ~16 Feet (Prime. For the uneducated, the Unicron Trilogy has given each of its 3 seasons separate names and 3 separate art styles. These are the designs used in Energon (S2) and Cybertron (S3). The Wiki had Cybertron's numbers but not Energon's, so for my own sanity, I decided the two were the same height. I could have done something in between Cybertron's and Armada's (S1) numbers, but there was a lot of float between the two)

G1 Beast Wars V3 - ~16 Feet (Primal/Optimal Optimus, this is the result of a fusion between Primal and Prime. The TFWiki says this design is like 40 feet tall, but if that is true, Rattrap, a character stated to be 1.8m or ~6f tall across several sources across several different languages, is actually not that tall. So I call bullshit, this guy is 2.6 Rattraps tall, making him around 16f or 4.9m tall. Checkmate, I win)

Prime Wars V1 - ~17 Feet (Primal. Slight spoilers for further into this chart but I decided that the Prime Wars Trilogy and the Netflix Cybertron Trilogy Optimuses were the same height as the Gen 1 design, because they're nearly identical. So comparing Primal to Prime, Primal comes up to about Prime's tits, bada bing bada boom)

Netflix Cybertron Trilogy - ~17 Feet (Primal. Identical explanation to above, don't want to repeat myself)

One V1 - ~17 Feet 10 inches (Prime. Okay, the Wiki says 32.534 feet, and I call Bullshit. A: These numbers are sourced from the Walmart Promotional AR Experience that came out before the movie. B: There are three decimal points, and that number does not convert into a whole number in meters (which is originally what I thought was weird about it). C: The director has said that this movie is both canon to the LA movies and its own separate canon. I already stated all of this in my Bumblebee chart post, and I will be dying on this hill. This is as short as we see OP in the movie, him at his tallest should match his KCV height, he's never taller than Megsy, so knock a couple feet off the biggest number and voila, my brain hurts)

One V2 - ~18 Feet 10 Inches (Prime. Same explanation as above, but taller than he was without his cog, because he got bigger)

Gen 1 - ~19 Feet (Prime. TFWiki has saved me the effort of figuring it out myself)

Prime Wars - ~19 Feet (Prime. As I said before, since this design is identical to Gen 1, it is the same height)

Netflix Cybertron Trilogy - ~19 Feet (Prime. I've said it twice now, identical, therefore same height)

Knight/Capel-Verse - ~19 Feet 4 inches (Primal. No Robot height given, I have his monkey form height from TFWiki, but comparing him to Optimus he's only a few inches shorter)

Prime Wars V2 - ~ 20 Feet (Primal. Compared to Prime, Prime comes up to about Primal's nose area, and we all know how tall I think this Prime is)

Animated - 20 Feet 6 Inches (Prime. This number actually comes from @phoenix-inanis and the glorious calculations they have done on the TFA Characters. Go check it out, because animated has literally no actual numbers -> https://phoenix-inanis.notion.site/TFA-Height-Chart-f6ad2960ca8c4c5b859ee4958723aaa4?pvs=4)

Knight/Capel-Verse - 20 feet 10 Inches (Prime. TFWiki has graced me with a number)

One V3 - ~20 Feet 10 Inches (Prime. If it's canon to KCV, then it's canon here. I've already told you my reasons)

Cyberverse - 21 Feet (Prime. Oh, shitty screenshot from a random Russian YouTube video; you treat me so well. I would adore a better scan of this if anyone has one)

Unicron Trilogy V1/ARM - 22 Feet 11 Inches (Prime. Technically, this number is for the Armada video game, which isn't exactly canon to the show. But I don't have any other numbers and my brain is tired, so CANON IT IS)

Aligned Cont. RID15 V1 - 25 Feet (Prime. I'm really proud of this one: I can already hear some of your questions. "But I thought his second form was as tall as his TFP V2 form, and this one was as tall as TFP V1," "but his V1 forms and V2 forms look like each other," You thought Wrong!! And I can Prove it!! Let's refresh ourselves on the height difference between TFP V1 Prime and Bee.

As we can see, Bee comes up to the top of Optimus's hips. Lovely. Now, let's look at RID15's height difference when Optimus first returns. Keep in mind that RID15 Bee and TFP Bee are the same height.

Look, Bee comes up to Optimus's chest in this form, not his hips. He comes up to a similar point on Bulkhead in the previous picture. Let's look at Prime's second form.

This is from the intro; yes, Bee is crouched, but look, if he stood straight he only comes up to about Prime's hips, JUST LIKE IN TFP!!! With this evidence, we can conclude that Prime's first RID15 form is similar in height to Bulkhead! I was so fucking excited to show y'all this, I was so proud of myself, I still am)

Bayverse V1 - 28 Feet (Prime. From the first 4 movies. Straight from TFWiki, because Mr. Michael Bay loves me)

Bayverse V2 - 29 Feet (Prime. Only in The Last Knight. Mr. Bay has lovingly kissed my forehead because he always gives me numbers for his movies)

Aligned Cont. WF/FOC/TFP V1/RID15 V2 - 30 Feet (Prime. TFWiki/Fandom/Me respectively. I love you, Video Game Info Screens. I am still pretty syced about figuring RID15 out, oh I feel so good. Almost makes me forget about how FREAKISHLY HUGE this universe is. And how the games concretely prove this fact)

Aligned Cont. TFP V2 - 35 Feet (Prime. Yes this number comes from Fandom, but this entire universe is monstrously huge for no reason, I believe it. Go look at my Bee chart for more in-depth and insane rant about how huge this universe is compared to other universes, it's at the end of the post)

Not Pictured: Aligned Cont. Rescue Bots and Rescue Bots Academy Optimus Prime - 30 Feet. (Yes, Optimus in the Aligned Continuity has 7 distinct designs across the whole thing. I am in physical pain. SEVEN?? ONE GUY?? SEVEN??), Bayverse Optimus Prime Power Up - 40 Feet. (It's an upgrade form that does not stick around, why should I include it), RID 2001 Super Mode - ~21 feet (Optimus can turn it on and off at will, it's just an upgrade mode), Unicron Trilogy Energon & Cybertron Optimus Prime Super Mode - ~20 Feet (Once more, upgrade mode, it's like stilts, you don't count something you don't always have on.)

29 pngs, holy shit I've done it. This took so long. If anyone has any suggestions for which transformer I should aggressively analyze next please tell me I don't know which ones to do next.

Here are the different layers separated, just so you can see all the many Optimuses (Optimusi?) clearly. I know my og chart is crowded, there's 29 pngs on there you don't think I noticed?

[azullumi]

LAST NIGHT I DREAMT OF THE STARS AND YOU, PT. 1

premise — because that’s just how they are; alternatively, “the type to” trend with hsr characters. characters — ruan mei, veritas ratio, aventurine, and robin content tags — gender-neutral reader, established relationship, fluff, slight angst, not proofread, word vomit in some parts, 1.6k words ; headcanons

note from me — seasickness took me out and the fact that i have a 9 hr road trip tomorrow is already making me dizzy. i hope i’m asleep for the 3/4 of it,, also this has a pt. 2 which i’ll upload later on !! anyways i wrote this in between my vacation and trip and in between the long-ass separate fics with sunday and aven so sorry if it seems rusty or out of my style 🙏

RUAN MEI, (lies in between the line of a good lover and a bad lover) the type to be unable to express her affections for you through words and settles with small and simple gestures that she has observed and seen from everyone around her; having never understood “love” and never knowing how to correspond with such, she’s left silent and confused like a lost child in the wake of it. She’ll find herself staring you quietly, memorizing the lines of your face and how it creases and contorts into different expressions, studying each crevices and edges of the parts that makes up your being to bury you in her memory, and there’s a smile that tugs on her lips every time her gaze falls on you. Oh, she wishes she understood what it all meant (she simply and devastatingly adores you).

RUAN MEI, the type to subconsciously write your name on paper whenever she’s distracted. it’s a small habit she does, one that makes her smile whenever she notices the letters spelling out your name. She has ruined, tainted several of her papers, even important ones, with just a single word, a set of letters that composes of what makes warmth seep into her chest when her mind drifts into the thought of someone—you.

RUAN MEI, the type not understand the underlying reason behind her actions—why she spends the time and makes the effort in between her busy schedule and pile of papers to make sweets for you, why she lets you do her hair despite how messy it often turns out when you braid it and how she can never find the strength in herself to “fix” or disturb the state of your work, why she always seek for the warmth of your hands whenever she’s feeling uneasy or stressed, why she always lean to your shoulder or to your touch when you caress her cheek, and everything. It’s a puzzle board of missing and scattered pieces, unable to comprehend the full image of the mystery—and yet, she still delves into the enigma of her feelings that is intertwined with your existence. Maybe one day she’ll come to know it all and maybe it will be the time when she can finally be honest to herself.

VERITAS RATIO, the type to want to know every single thing you and remember all of it. Perhaps it’s the bare minimum, perhaps it’s something that he just does. “They don’t like that,” He would say when an arrogant fool would even try to give you (or do) something, and he’s there, witnessing it all, knowing the things that you prefer and like. He knows what flowers that you like, knows your favorite color, knows the way you prefer to sleep, knows the small habits that you do when you’re nervous or scared or happy, knows every little detail that paints the whole of your existence. Isn’t it simply just lovely when someone desires to know you from the inside and out? Even if it’s just a little bit, he feels more closer to you in this way.

VERITAS RATIO, the type to be sweet and reassuring towards you (through words and actions), even though he may come off as mean, blunt, or rude towards others. Sure, he may call you an idiot sometimes but he’ll never go past that nor reach the line of degrading and distasteful remarks because he never wishes to hurt your feelings; if ever he did, he’ll apologize and tell you it’s not his intention. “Fool,” But the affection that edges into the tone of his voice cuts the thread of disdain that sews into the word. Oftentimes when texting and it’s easy to misunderstand the tone of one’s message, especially his tone, he’ll reassure you that he didn’t send it in a way that he’s angry or scornful: “The ‘Ok’ that I sent is not a mad ‘Ok’, I am in a rush and could only type that out. I’m not angry.”

VERITAS RATIO, the type to entertain your questions no matter how stupid it can be; he’d give you the answers every single time. He doesn’t mind being treated like a walking encyclopedia or dictionary if it’s you—he’d hate it if you were going to ask someone else instead of him (although he probably never told you that discomfort). I mean, you have a well-known member of the Intelligentsia Guild, someone who parallels a genius, just right at the tip of your fingertips, why bother asking someone else?

AVENTURINE, the type to like listening to the sound of your breathing, the sound of your heartbeat (to listen to the sound of you blinking, to listen to your hands soothe). It’s comforting, in an odd way, and he never tells you but it helps him fall asleep—watching the rising and falling of your chest, seeing your calm face wrinkle ever so often while you sleep. He keeps the sound of your heartbeat close to the pocket on his chest, weaving the rhythm of it to his pulse, and before he knew it, the dawn will come in quiet solitude.

AVENTURINE, the type to be always on fight-or-flight mode. Perhaps it’s the way that he grew up, perhaps it was the harsh and cruel environment that he’s in, but he’s always on guard, seemingly on defensive mode as if danger lurks at every dark corner. His shoulders are always tense, his hand either hidden or playing with the ring on his finger, it’s like he never can’t seem to relax himself even when he’s in the comfort of your arms. It follows him everywhere, trailing behind his feet, and forces him awake at night—he doesn’t even know where the fear, the anxiety, is coming from, he just knows it’s there. One wrong step and his thoughts will come crashing down like cold downpour, one wrong move and you’ll come to leave him. Sometimes a little reassurance comes a long way and it’s all he needs when his mind is being tormented. (He will learn to live with it, even if he can never seem to understand or know it. He will come to know peace as if it’s all he had in his hands when the sun first held him).

AVENTURINE, the type to immediately smile after a kiss. It’s utterly affectionate; parting, staring deeply into one’s eyes with his cheeks dusted with a certain color and he’s grinning—warmth beams from his expression and there’s a certain feeling that intertwines into his gaze and he knows it’s love because it’s all he feels whenever he looks at you. He’s the type to laugh into a kiss, feeling ticklish all over his bones as if your hands are ghosting the sensitive parts of his skin, and you’ll ask him, “What?” but he’ll only answer with, “Nothing.” He’s not drunk, the ache of wanting simply swells up in his chest and all he can think of is how much he adores you.

ROBIN, the type to try and make time for you. Her schedule is always packed, filled with all kinds of events and tasks that she needs to do. It’s overwhelming, everything feels overwhelming for her and it’s hard to know which one she should prioritize first not when she has a lot of things on her hands. Sometimes she feels lost, feels the weight too heavy on her shoulders, feels like her feet are tied to the ragged earth, feels the cage closing on her. She tries so hard to be the perfect lover for you, to become someone that will reach beyond your expectations; she cradles that perfect image, broken in all of its edges, that were constructed for herself close to her chest even if it feels like a knife to her heart. But really, all you need is for her to be herself (not the star that everyone admires and wishes to reach) and sometimes, that’s all she needs to hear from you—that she doesn’t have to hold on to the shattered chains when the coldness of the metal reminds her of what she has to carry.

ROBIN, the type to go on all kinds of dates with you, silly or not, and even matches clothes with you. She’s usually the one to make the invite to match, thinking that it’s cute and the both of you rarely ever has time like this so why not make the most out of it; who are you to even say no when she’s beaming at you so warmly? She has all of her options laid on the bed, displayed on clothing hangers, asking you what you’re going to wear or what color do you want. It’s lovely, sweet, seeing her like this and you could only pray to whoever aeon is listening that nobody comes to ruin the day the both of you rarely have for each other.

ROBIN, the type to bring you all kinds of souvenirs and gifts from her (universal) tours, sometimes having bought too much that you don’t know what to with some of them; the type to send you letters every time she’s away so that you won’t worry for he, especially knowing what happened last time, the type to always try to keep in touch and keep you close no matter the stars between you and her. She’ll ask for one thing that you own that she can carry with her person, making a promise that she’ll come back and return it—the item a testament to her vow—, but for the meantime, she’ll keep it so she has a little piece of you everywhere she goes and she can say that you’re always there by her side.

DRUM ROLLS PLS *dundundundundun* special mention to the one and only beloved feli @dr-felitas !! i think i owe you a lot of end notes so here i am :3 also i’m sorry if i publish this and i still haven’t responded to your messages (if you have sent me cause im on dnd to avoid my dumbass from checking and looking at the phone during car rides knowing that i get motion sick) ANYWAYS i would like to begin this with i love you mwamwa, you’re one of the sweetest and most wonderful souls i have ever met and anyone who tells u otherwise will get a boulder thrown to their head 🫵 im glad to have met you, that my anti-social ass went ahead and messaged you despite the fact that we only talked once or twice AND IT WAS OVER ASKS OR COMMENTS BUT YEAH !! idk what or where i’ll be if i hadn’t done that; maybe not replying to my friends idk (again im sorry if i take business days to answer i sometimes get busy or i sometimes dont have the energy :3 i hope u still love me hahahaha… *slides down the wall*) again, i really appreciate and adore you for everything. you are a brave and kind person and i only hope for the good things for you. don’t be too mean or harsh to yourself 🫂 know that i’m always here to listen to you no matter what you’re saying. you’re never a burden to me and i hope you’ll come to see just how you shine and radiate with so much warmth and kindness, it’s like love itself is found in you. ily lottss mwaa <33

sunday, himeko, welt, gallagher, and jing yuan next !!

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

[doodledrawsthings]

you. Oh my god, you. (Positive)

listen. Before I had internet access, all I had was 1 hour of allotted browser time, bing image search, and a single dantdm play through of a hat in time that never got finished. I googled fanart and got pretty much nothing, I googled fancomics and got pretty much nothing, but you know what I did end up finding?

your art.

from ages 11-14, my goal in life, in art, was your art. I can’t tell you how much I loved finding random screenshots of your posts, because I was always just so impressed by how clean and consistent your sketches are, how the characters always stay on model, the shape language, how you could somehow sketch a character in like 20 lines when it took me 50 to draw sans in my little spiral notebook— like! Holy shit! For years I have looked up to your art! There’s still a photos folder on my dads old huge-ass 12 inch work iPad labeled “holy crap” and filled with your art. Because it inspired me so much. It’s become an undeniable part of my artstyle, now — I still have fanart I drew way back in the day of Hattie and the rest, I didn’t even know anyone’s names because I couldn’t play the game, but you’re the reason I eventually did play the game. Your coffee shop au and different versions of the prince— one of those ieterations inspired the main character of my novel! Well, novel that I tried to write, I was 13 so it was eh, but I tried!!

I’m submitting this on-anon because I don’t want to out my age on the wide internet (I like my privacy) but. Your art has really meant a lot to me. It’s the reason I played hollow knight, and it’s the reason I kept trying to develop an art style I was happy with. You’re the reason I started scribbling comics in my notebooks. Being 13-14 was pretty much the worst two years of my life, but I had Bing image search and the occasional glimpse of your signature, and I’d be so happy every time I found a new (if crusty) three-times screenshotted jpg. You literally introduced me to the concept of polyamory and nonbinary-ness with the coffee shop au. I had no other access to that in my household, and. Yeah. It meant a lot to me.

Anyway. I’m so glad I’ve finally tracked you down (in the most non-ominous way possible) and I’m so glad you’re still active— Please never stop making art. Your art is incredible, and amazing, and also you never know who’s out there on Bing image search. Thank you for creating for as long as you have. You’re pretty much the reason I’m shooting for an art degree (Wish me luck!) so just…Thank you.

(Also I had no idea you were a professional storyboarder, which is insane because that’s what I want to be when I’m through college. Hey, maybe I’ll end up storyboarding a remake of something you’ve storyboarded! hehehe)

Hi anon!

So right off the bat, I gotta tell you that this message made me start bawling when I woke up and saw it. Like I had a full-on cry session while reading your message and lying in bed for almost an hour. I am crying as I am typing this response, on my phone, still in bed. It’s 11am and i woke up at 9. So I hope it turns out coherent.

The last two years have been. weird. I say that a lot because I wanna say “rough” but that still doesn’t feel quite right. I’m almost hyper-aware that there are so many people that have it worse than me rn, so it feels hard to even acknowledge when I’m going through anything, myself, sometimes- REGARDLESS, it’s been kind of an all-time low for my mental health. There was a point within in the last year where I just HATED drawing. I struggled to bring myself to work, I struggled to bring myself to even draw for fun. It felt like I was posting just to post, trying to keep people aware of my existence and it almost felt physically painful to force myself to sit down and do it, sometimes.

I’m getting better now, I think, but. Yknow.

It’s so easy to get caught up in the “oh I can make money off this,” “oh I can get attention off this,” “oh I can prove myself a functional person in society with this,” of it all. I forget why I actually do this, sometimes, or if I even enjoy it. And then I get messages like yours, about the kid with limited internet access looking for A Hat in Time fan art on Bing image search, and I get taken back to when I was a kid scrolling Google images and deviantart for the same thing.

I don’t mean to like. Foster some kind of parasocial thing with you or any one of my followers. There’s a reason I’m saying all this, I hope it ties up in the end.

We don’t know each other. I’m not some mysterious legendary artist, or whatever. I’m a person who gets burnt out, and jealous, and insecure. I need inspiration to function, just like you, and when I don’t have it, I get art block. But I also really like to draw fictional characters kissing and hanging out. I like coming up with comics and stories and playing out dramatic and funny scenarios in my head like I’m mashing Barbies together. And when other people tell me they enjoy the stuff I put out when I do this, it makes me really, really, really happy.

I think I needed to read your message, probably. With the state of… Everything… Right now, especially recently, I feel like a lot of artists are also struggling with a sense of purpose, pride, and reason as the world makes it harder and harder to even BE an artist, these days. And when I read this message it was like Anton Ego at the end of Ratatouille, I got taken back to when I was a kid looking at my favorite artists and studying their style and striving to be better and better at it over years of my life. Not just because I wanted a job for it or cuz I wanted to be a famous Disney animator or whatever, but because it was fun and I just liked doing it.

Thank you, SO much. I say this in the most genuine and earnest way I possibly can possibly express. I wish you luck on your own path in art and art school. And if you decide that animation industry is your thing, then I wish you the best in that endeavor, as well. I think I will keep making art for a long time.

Peace and love on the planet earth ✌️✌️✌️

[sofiawritesstuff]

PLATONIC

part 9

summary: When Lando's "playboy" image is setting a bad reputation for him. He's turns to the person he trust most in this world for help.

pairing: landonorris x bestfriend!reader

warnings: suggestive

part 8

IT'S HERE!!! I apologise for the lack of uploads, I was in Spain and visited family in Italy, my car broke down and the plane was delayed. I was then in work for 5 day straight and I'm in for a further two nights too. No more excuses I will be back more consistently.

-------------

You with your arm wrapped around Lando's waited at baggage claim at the airport. While he called his brother updating him on how long the two of you would be, you decided to go onto the F1 gossip page.

f1gossippage

f1gossippage Lando already enjoying his week off with girlfriend Y/N L/N. They were spotted this morning at the airport and appeared to be heading back home to the UK. Y/N also posted a picture with her holding a man's hand with the caption "home for the week".

-

"Well we've made it to the gossip pages again, a fan must have took a photo of us at the airport" you show Lando your phone, he looks down and your phone, humming kissing the top of your head.

As the two of you waited for your luggage to appear on the carousel, Lando tried to wake himself up by looking as the gossip pages "Cute picture of us though"

"At least Zak will be happy" you shrug "This is our week, let's not think about him. We will spend the night at Max's apartment, you will go to your meeting, I will pick you up and we will head to my parents. Just us, no Zak"

The noise of the carousel drew your attention to the suitcases arriving, luckily for both of you, your suitcases were the first ones out. You watched as Lando effortlessly lifted both cases off and nod towards the exit.

"Don't worry, I'll take it" he tells you as you go to take your case from him "Thank you, is Oliver outside?" you asked "Mhm, he has the car parked right outside"

The two of you walked out of the airport you saw Oliver stood outside the car "Ollie!" you smile running towards him "Hi sis, how are you" he smiles, hugging you tightly "I'm good how are you, how are my girls?"

"We're all good, the girls are desperate to see you and their Uncle Lala" he teases Lando ruffling his hair "Get off" Lando laughs hugging his brother

"You two have a lot to answer for by the way, Mum has seen the photos and I think her heart could have exploded with how excited she was that you two were finally together" Olivier says putting thr cases in the car

You felt your heart drop, Lando's mother had been like a mother to you for as long as you could remember, someone who had been longing for you and Lando to get together.

You and Lando looked at each other, frowns on both your faces "What?" Olivier questions looking between the you "Uhm" Lando starts "Listen, we're planning to go to Mum's and Dad's tomorrow night. We need to talk to everyone about what's been going on. Can you bring Savannah?"

"Okay, I have just felt my heart fall to my stomach. What's been going on?" he asks getting into the car "We will explain everything tomorrow, I promise you will know everything"

The drive to Max's apartment was nice, empty roads and hearing all about the children's lives, Lando's racing and your work place. You had the music blasting until Lando fell asleep on your shoulder.

"Still a big baby, I see" Olivier smiles, looking in the mirror "Yeah" you run a hand through his hair "He's exhausted, he has only just started to get a goodnight's sleep. Hopefully being back home he will sleep as good as the girls"

"Are you going to Canada?"

"Yeah, that's what my meeting is about tomorrow at work. My boss wants to see me just go see how I'm doing and about working from different places, trying to get a few clients. Get a few more posts on social media"

"Do you still like the job?”

“I like how flexible it is, my boss is literally so amazing but sometimes I wish i didn’t have to work during the weekends, I like just being able to put all of my focus into Lando”

“He appreciates everything you do for him you know, that one time when he was feeling down about the race and he came home to his favourite dinner and snacks. He messaged me telling me how grateful he was for you”

You blush, kissing Lando’s head making him snuggle into you more “He’d do the same for me”

“So are you going to tell me what’s been going on, or do I have to wait until tomorrow?”

“It’s best we tell everyone together” you admit as he brings the car to a slow stop “I understand, if there’s anything you need. Just give me a call”

“I will. Now do you want to do the honours of waking him up or will I?” you ask with a smirk “Give me the keys and I will take your cases inside. He will be less cranky waking up to you rather than me” he jokes, getting out of the car

You watch as he drags the suitcases to the door, you gently shake Lando awake "Baby come on, we're home"

He groans mumbling, wrapping his arm around you "Lan, we can sleep again in about ten minutes"

"That was a quick drive" he says waking up "Yeah for you, you slept the whole hour. Are you ready to go inside. Get some sleep in a bed"

He nods, leaning over giving you a quick kiss just as his brother gets back in the car "You're awake" Olivier says loudly making you two of you pull away "Yeah, thanks for the ride. I'll see you tomorrow" Lando says quickly getting out the car

"Thanks Ollie" you rush out following him. He takes you hand rushing you inside. Closing the door behind him.

You enter the apartment, following Lando straight to the bedroom "It feels good being home doesn't it?" you tell Lando watching him take his shirt and trousers off getting into bed

"Yeah. I love Monaco but it feels good being here. Now come on get into bed"

--

The next morning, you woke up in just your underwear and the shirt Lando was wearing the day previously. You weren't used to the 7am wake up calls, you hadn't been for the past two years.

"What time is it?" Lando asks waking up "Sh, sh, sh. Go back to sleep. I'm going to work. Pick me up at 1pm okay?" you hold his face, kissing him quickly leaving the bed.

You head towards the hall, getting clothes from your suitcase, and got ready for the day. Just as you were about to leave Lando comes into the kitchen fully clothed and putting his shoes on.

"You ready to go?" he asks grabbing his keys "What are you doing up?"

"Taking you to work, there's no way I am letting you get a cab at this time in the morning, plus i'm going to drop our cases off at my parents"

"Thank you but I need to come back here after work to get changed anyway"

“All sorted, I’ve left clothes out for you” he says proudly. You walked into the bedroom to see a pair of jeans and shirt left out neatly on the bed for you.

“Thank you” you smile coming back through to thee kitchen. You grab your bag and follow him out the apartment, getting into the car

"How are you feeling about the meeting?" he asks reversing out of the drive "I'm not nervous about the meeting but I am nervous to go back into the office, so many of the girls hate me"

"They don't hate you"

"No they do, they hate me because you're in my life and not theirs. They only want you for your money and to fuck you" you scoff, he laughs putting his hand on your legs

"They will never get the chance baby, the only person that will ever get to fuck me in that office is you" he squeezes your leg sending you a wink

You look out of the window, hiding your smile. Watching as the weekday morning traffic slowly building up.

“Well I’ve definitely not missed this” you mumble turning your hand to Lando “Neither have I, how long is your meeting today?”

“Mark said I would be done by 12. Meeting starts at 10. I don’t think it will even last that long”

“Well I will be waiting for you at 11:45 where I drop you off. Do you want anything brought in for lunch? I can stop at the cafe just around the corner”

“No, no. I’ll be okay and get something at work. Get yourself something though” you smile rubbing his shoulder

“Will you though?” he asks turning the corner into the car park of your work “Yes. Thank you” you say taking your seatbelt off

Lando looks at you, staring out the window. Takes your hand in his in attempt to calm your nerves “You’ll be okay, I know you will. Go in and ignore anyone that has a problem with you. You know everything you need to do”

“Thank you” you smile “I love you, have a good day and I will be waiting here for you when you’re done”

“I love you too”

He leans in, giving you a kiss to the lips before kissing your head “Have fun” he says as you leave the car, you close the car door, waving at him through the window.

Entering the office, people come up to you greeting you, including your best friend Robert

“I’ve missed you so much, this place is hell without you” he hugs you tightly “It can’t have been that bad” you laugh sitting down at his desk

“Oh it is, I have so much to tell you but first tell me how you’ve been?”

“I’ve been great to be honest, I’ve absolutely loved travelling with Lando. Getting to experience his first win, we’ve tried so many different foods and countries. It’s been so good. We’re staying with his parents this week before heading to Canada”

“Yeah i’ve noticed how much you’ve enjoyed your time with Lando. I’ve seen the photo of you two kissing. He’s finally your boyfriend?” Robbie squeals

“Yeah, he is” you lie staring at the man across from you “So how did it all happen? I need all the details”

Before you can say anything Mark appears at the meeting room doors, signalling you both over. You thanked him in your head. Glad you don’t need to make up another lie.

“Tell me later” Robbie smiles, leading the way to the office “Okay” you nod

Everyone sits around the table, the few girls that you didn’t like sat across from you “Good morning everyone, thank you for those who aren’t here everyday for coming in. Also a big welcome back to Y/N who has been doing an incredible job getting clients in every country she’s been too. How have you been doing Y/N”

“Yes great thanks, so far I have gathered 12 clients and I'm off to Canada next weekend so I'm hoping to meet a target of fifteen then"

"And how are you going to do that attached to your boyfriends hip?" Emma asks with a smirk on her face "Well funnily enough I do have a life outside of my boyfriend, I'm not with him 100% of the weekend, I also use Thursdays to gather clients and have meetings with them throughout the weekend"

"Well we all appreciate your efforts Y/N, we only require you to work eight hours a day Monday to Friday so we are grateful for the overtime that you do and the calls that we have had since you've been away are great"

The hours fly by and before you knew it, it was 11:50. You gathered your belongings, putting them all in your bag. "So how are you getting home? Do you need a ride?" Robbie asks handing you your charger

"No, Lando is outside for me, we're heading back to his apartment so I can shower and then going to his parents for the week"

"That sounds nice" he says opening the door for you, you talk about the week ahead while heading down in the elevator "Well there's Lando and it looks like he brought you lunch too" he nods over to Lando leaning on the car

"Hey Lando!" Robbie waves "Hi Rob" he waves back "How was it?" he asks leaning down giving you a kiss "Better than I thought"

"I'm glad to hear, you had a slice of toast this morning and I know the most you'd have in there was a coffee so I got you a sandwich and a drink"

"Thank you" you lean up kissing him, he walks around opening the door for you "What a gentleman" you smile getting into the car.

part 10

TAGS

@harrysdimple05 @ironmaiden1313 @charli123456789 @alltoomaples @jule239 @panicsinvirgo @cmleitora @imboredway2much @landoslutmeout @obxstiles @morenofilm @formula1mount @dreamercrowd @brekkers-whore @sialexia @bokutos-babyowl @wobblymug @merchelsea @lexiecamposv @lunamelona @nightlockcornucopia

[justmeinadaze]

Secret Underneath (Steddie X Plus Size You)

"She's got a secret underneath (she's got a secret underneath) Yeah, she's his naughty little freak (yeah, she's his naughty, little freak) She likes to put on a show (she likes to put on a show) She likes when he takes control (she likes when he takes control)"

A/N: This came from utter annoyance at men online and just desperately trying to find a confident man who cares.

ENJOY!

Warnings: Sugar Daddies Steve and Eddie/ Baby Fem Plus Size Reader, SMUT, daddy kink (cause im me), blindfold, toys, voyeurism (I guess. They watch her pleasure herself on cam), dirty talk. Sub/dom dynamics, oh um age difference even though its not mentioned (guys are about mid to late 30s and Reader is in her mid to late 20s)

ANGST, Reader is assaulted by an ex (mentioned but not expanded on) boys comfort her, mentions of her wanting to be held and tired of feeling lonely, guys online try to flirt in the beginning but she shuts them down. I think that's it. Cliffhanger ending because again...Im me.

Word Count: 5555 (ooooo :P)

“I can take care of a young little thing like you. You’re perfect”

“If I’m perfect why do I need someone to take care of me?”

“Do you want to help Daddy finish, baby? My big hard cock needs some help.”

“Oof a real Daddy doesn’t need to announce how big his cock is. Try again, little boy.”

“I bet a little girl like you needs to be put in her fucking place, you stupid fucking slut. Now get naked and send me nudes or else.”

You role your eyes as you promptly block the person who sent you the message. When you signed up for this sugar baby website you were hopeful to find someone who wasn’t like the “men” you had talked to on regular dating apps. You wanted someone who knew what they were doing, confident, and could handle your sass without running. 

You had met a few who could live up to the title but none you wanted to keep around long term. 

Sliding your mouse through the images, you found a profile that intrigued you. The image attached wasn’t of one man but two and it didn’t show their faces. It wasn’t odd for the Babies to want anonymity like yourself but your profile picture at least showed all of you in your curvy glory with a mask blocking your eyes and lingerie blocking everything else. Daddies always felt the need to show off so usually their profile images accentuated their faces and/or their money.

These two, with an account named Mogul/Rockstar, were only photographed from the neck down and it was definitely a picture they took, not some professional or anything like that. The man on the left had a black, well fitted suit with his admittedly gorgeous hands holding a glass of whiskey. The man on the right was a bit less put together with torn jeans and a blue jean vest over his bare chest just barely blocking the tattoos that peaked out. You assume he must have long hair because the ends of wavy locks rested on his shoulders.

When most men reached out to you it was with some silly pick-up line or innuendo. This profile, however, simply sent you one word; “Hello.”

(8:45pm) “Hey there. Not much for words?”

(8:47pm) “We imagine you’ve heard them all. : ). “

(8:48pm) “Are you really two people? Or do you just have an extra ego?”

(8:48pm) “Oh or let me guess! Your dick is so big it counts as another person.

(8:50pm) “I mean my friend IS a big dick but lol”

(8:51pm) “Yeah, honey, it’s really two people. We like to be clear about that. Any Baby that becomes ours would be just that; ours. 

(8:53pm) “We’ve learned pretty quickly not many women feel comfortable with two Daddies which is absolutely fine and why we are up front.”

(8:54pm) “How up front are you being really when you don’t show your face?”

(8:55pm) “Hm. Not a yes girl. I like that. It’s good to ask questions. 

(8:57pm) “We do that for a couple of reasons. One being we are well known faces so we don’t want a Baby to choose us solely on that.”

(8:57pm) “Because you don’t want to be embarrassed?”

(9:00pm) “Asking questions is good. Interrupting isn’t. Don’t do it again.”

(9:01pm) “Or what?”

…

(9:08pm) “Or what, huh?”

(9:15pm) “Fuck you! Ignoring isn’t very Daddy like!”

(9:16pm) “Oh? Did little baby get her feelings hurt? We don’t ignore as punishments but you aren’t ours yet, sweetheart. If you don’t want to follow any rules that’s fine. We can just continue looking and you can be a brat with someone else.”

(9:18pm) “I’m sorry.”

(9:19pm) “What’s the other reason?”

(9:22pm) “Actually, that’s the biggest reason. Our fame gets in the way of a lot of things if you can believe it. Expectations are ruined and certain ideals are put in place.”

(9:23pm) “My reputation as a rockstar makes some ladies think I can’t be soft and I definitely can. Our image isn’t solely who we are.”

(9:25pm) “I can understand that. Being a bigger girl people think I’m either desperate or my weight becomes a fetish to them. Which, I mean, fetishes are fine but men make me feel like…it’s the ONLY reason they are sexually attracted to me.”

(9:26pm) “And not because of your personality. Yeah…”

(9:28pm) “Is that why you’re a bit of a brat? Lol need to weed out the idiots?”

(9:30pm) “Something like that. Lol.”

(9:32pm) “Baby, I think my friend and I are in agreement that we’d like to try this out if you’re willing. You don’t have to see us or do anything you don’t want. Per the anonymity that was mentioned, we aren’t going to give our names so you don’t have too either. We also won’t be showing our faces so, again, you don’t have to.”

(9:33pm) “More than anything, we just want someone to look out for and talk to. Maybe make you feel good from time to time if you let us.”

(9:35pm) “Ok, Daddy.”

(9:36pm) “Good. Good girl. : ). We can talk on here until the three of us get more comfortable and then we can give you our numbers so you can talk to us there or individually. As you can imagine, rockstar travels a lot and so do I for deals so we aren’t always together 24/7.”

(9:40pm) “Are you both friends or partners?”

(9:42pm) “Friends for sure.”

(9:43pm) “Ok, baby girl, we’ll let you go but we’ll talk to you tomorrow. Get some sleep.”

(9:45pm) “Good night, Daddy.”

(9:46pm) “*Daddies”

(9:48pm) “Good night, honey.”

(9:48pm) “Sweet dreams, princess.”

As you laid in bed that night, you couldn’t help but wonder who they could be. You did some quick googling of businessmen who were friends with rockstars but that was stupid because that was a very common friendship found within industries. Rolling over, you plugged in your phone to charge it, pausing when you heard it ding.

Mogul/Rockstar deposited $300 into your account!!

Wow. No man had ever sent you that much just for an introductory conversation. Maybe because it was two of them they felt the need? As you drifted off to sleep, you found yourself getting more and more curious about them, dreaming of possibilities that may come to be.

############

That first month went by a lot smoother than you expected it to when it came to this account. They were incredibly kind and genuinely seemed to care about your day and what you were up to. Any time you voiced any kind of concern, they listened and did what they could. For example, you wished you could tell who was responding when since at the moment they replied as one. A few minutes later Rockstar changed his text to be red so you knew you were talking to him. 

When it came to finances, they were more than generous, giving you a set amount of $500 at the end of each day. They never once asked for anything sexual or made innuendos about their bodies or yours. 

As the second month began however you found yourself getting antsy.

(6:42pm) “May I ask a question?”

(6:43pm) “Yeah, of course, anything, honey.”

(6:45pm) “Can we do something…I mean can you help me…”

(6:46pm) “We can help with anything, princess. You just have to ask like a big girl.”

(6:47pm) “Can you…help me cum…”

(6:47pm) “Please, Daddy.”

(6:48pm) “We can do that for you, pretty girl. If you want. You remember the rules?”

(6:48pm) “Yes, Daddy.”

(6:49pm) “You don’t even have to turn on your camera or mic or anything. You can just…watch me.”

(6:50pm) “We never do anything we don’t want to do.”

(6:51pm) “But we would love to watch you cum. Do you have toys or were you just going to use your fingers?”

(6:53pm) “I have toys, Daddy.”

(6:54pm) “I actually just got this rabbit vibrator but I have no idea how to use it.”

(6:57pm) Mogul/ Rockstar has invited you for a video chat.

Biting your bottom lip, you grab your mask and pull it over your eyes, checking your appearance in the camera box before clicking their link. The camera box was still just their image from the site which you expected but was pleasantly surprised when a husky voice flowed through your speakers. 

“Hey, honey. You don’t have to turn your mic on if you don’t want to. We just thought it would be fair since you’re about to vulnerable with us.”

You smiled as you turned on your microphone. 

“Is it vulnerable? It’s just…masturbating right?”

“I mean, are you playing with yourself on the internet for just anyone?”

The second voice that followed through sounded extremely familiar as if you heard it somewhere before. It was incredibly sexy none the less. 

“No.”

“Then I would say you’re being vulnerable, babe. Jesus, you are really beautiful by the way.”

“Thank you, Daddy.”, you beam.

“Can we ask why shorts and an oversized shirt? Most women wear the lingerie or a bra and panties.”

“Or are totally naked.”

“I just want to be comfortable. I’m not roaming around my house in a bra and panties.”, you giggle. “I take those off as soon as I get home from work.”

“Very fair. We’ve never asked what you do. Do you feel comfortable telling us?”

“I’m a teacher. Another reason for said anonymity.”

“Again fair.”

“Um, may I ask, whose voice is whose?”

“Yeah, pretty girl. I’m the Mogul.”

“I’m the rockstar.”

Smiling, you nod but you find yourself completely unsure of how to proceed. Usually, you could play innocent and do what you needed in the bedroom but something about these men were making you…

“Honey, are we making you a little nervous?”, Mogul asked in a sweet tone. 

“Yeah a little bit. I’m sorry.”

“No reason to be sorry, sweetheart. Can you do your Daddies a favor and show us the toy you got?”

Like a little kid in a store, your smile grew as you opened the box by your feet and produced the pink vibrator, displaying it for them to see.

“Is that your favorite kind of toy?”

“Usually men are but—” You quickly covered your mouth with your palm not meaning to let your sass slip out like that. Again, you were surprised when you heard both men laugh.

“I like that sassy attitude.”

“The confidence to.”, Mogul adds. “Don’t cover up that personality for us, baby girl. We’re big boys. We can handle it.”

“Most men can’t.”

“Most men aren’t us.”

“That’s for damn sure.”, you smirk as your thighs rub together. 

“Why don’t you take off those short for us, sweetheart?”, Rockstar suggests as you nod, rising from your chair to bring them down and toss them aside. “Good girl. Can you open your legs for us so we can see that pretty pussy?”

Licking your lips, you close your eyes as your open your legs giving them a good view. 

“Open your eyes, baby girl, and don’t move them from the camera.”, Mogul commands in a firm tone. “Jesus, man. I bet she tastes really fucking sweet.”

“And is really fucking tight. That toy is going to stretch you out I bet.”

You moan at their words as you tease your slit with the end of the vibrator.

“I wish you both were here to help me.”, you whine as you palm slides under your shirt to massage your breast. 

“Go ahead, honey. Push it into your cunt and tell us how it feels.”

Mewling, you easily guide it inside of you, the subtle vibration against your clit driving you crazy.

“Fuck, it feels so good, Daddy.”

“Yeah, princess? Fuck, I’ve never wanted to eat a pussy so bad in my life. Look at her. I just want her to ride my face till she cums over and over.”

“Fuck…yes.”

“You’d like that, baby? Make a mess all over Rockstar’s face.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Such a dirty little girl. Can you say it for us?”

“I’m…I’m a dirty girl. Fuck, Daddy, it feels so good inside of me.”

“Fuck, baby girl. You’re so fucking sexy. Make yourself cum.”

“Can I, Daddy? Please. I’m so close.”

“Yeah, sweetheart. You have our permission.”

Your body shook as you came, your hips grinding against the toy as you elongated your high. 

“Good girl, honey. Very good. Come back to us.”

“Th-thank you. Thank you.”, you grin as you bite your lip. “Wait, did you guys cum? I wanna hear it.”

“This was about you, babe. We didn’t touch ourselves.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that we’re really fucking hard though after that display.”, Rockstar laughed.

“Are you serious? You guys didn’t…at all. Most men do.”

The image in their camera box suddenly changes and their laps from the waist down come into your view. Both men were wearing shorts and you could vaguely see their bulges poking through. Their hands were gorgeous, one littered with rings that you assumed belonged to the rockstar. 

“Again…we aren’t most men.”

“Don’t make us have to remind you again.”

Nodding, you softly apologize as you lean back in your chair.

“What’s wrong, baby? Are you pouting?”, Mogul asks in a tone that makes you smile. 

“Not really. I just…I wish you could hold me.”

“Yeah…yeah, princess, we wish we could to.”

“Will you ever trust me enough to show me your faces?”

You listen as they heavily sigh.

“Maybe. Let’s just take this one step at a time, ok?”

After your good nights and lying in bed alone, you don’t know why but you begin to cry. You had been alone for so long, broken hearted from the bullshit your ex put you through. You loved what the site offered but you wondered if that momentary high would be enough to sustain you. You just wanted someone who would hold you and tell you everything was alright. Someone who would take care of you and make you feel safe so you didn’t have to worry anymore about…everything. 

As your phone dinged, you glanced at the notification that illuminated your screen. 

Mogul/Rockstar deposited $2000 into your account!!

Hardening your heart, you reminded yourself that you were strong, squeezing your eyes tightly shut as you forced yourself to sleep. 

##############

(6:15pm) “Hey beautiful. What are your plans tonight? Rockstar and I were thinking maybe the three of us could have a camera date and just talk. Nothing sexual.”

(6:17pm) “You don’t have to of course.”

(6:20pm) “Sweetheart, you know how we feel about you not answering.”

(6:25pm) “Shit, you guys. I’m so sorry. I was charging my phone while I was getting ready! I actually have plans tonight.”

(6:27pm) “Ooo that sounds like fun. Spending some time with friends?”

(6:29pm) “Not exactly lol My ex actually invited me to dinner so we could talk about some things.”

(6:30pm) “You’re going on a date?”

(6:32pm) “Um, I guess you can call it that.”

(6:32pm) “Is that a problem?”

(6:33pm) “We made it clear that if you agreed to be our Baby you would be ours.”

(6:34pm) “Virtually, yes, but the information and rules you gave me didn’t say I couldn’t go out on a date. 

(6:35pm) “What. Did you think I was just going to be ok with not knowing who you two were and never having you two fuck me or hold me. 

(6:35pm) “To not go on actual dates and feel wanted.

(6:36pm) “Needed.”

(6:38pm) “Didn’t realize you needed everything spelled out for you. Relationships take time. Like you we imagine, we’ve been burned before. We don’t want another whore who’s only dating us for our money or status. We deal with fake people enough!”

(6:39pm) “We like talking to you and you’re so beautiful. We WANT to see where this goes but if you’re in that much of a rush maybe this was a bad idea.”

This Baby is currently offline. You may leave messages for her and she will get this when she logs back in!!

***

(9:32pm) CurvyBabyWAttitude has invited you for a video chat!!

(9:34pm) Mogul/Rockstar declined your invitation for a video chat.

(9: 35pm) “Please…I need you…”

(9:38pm) “Now you need us? After your date I’m thinking didn’t go well since it’s 9:30.”

(9:39pm) “Try again, little girl. We aren’t the kind of men you use whenever you feel like.”

(9:41pm) “We have feelings to.”

(9:45pm) “What? No sassy come back? Nothing sarcastic you want to say?”

(9:50pm) Mogul/Rockstar has invited you for a video chat!!

“Jesus Christ. What happened, baby?!”

When you illuminated their screen, you were a complete mess. Your hair was frayed every which way and even under the mask covering your eyes they could tell your make up was smeared from tears. Your black dress that you had worn was torn at the sleeve, hanging down as you held it together with your hand. 

“Did that fucker hurt you?”, Rockstar growled. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know who to call. I’m so sorry, Daddy. I should have stayed here with you. I’m just so tired of feeling lonely. As soon as that fucker showed me even a little bit of attention I just…”

You listened as they mumbled to each other, unable to make out what they were saying as you dried your tears with your fist. 

“We’re in New York right now. Are you close to that state?”

“Y-Yes?”

“Do you trust us? Say it.”, Mogul replies sternly when you nod.

“Yes, I trust you.”

“There’s a hotel outside of the city. I’ll message you the address and room number. You follow the instructions we give you to the letter. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

***

“Hi, um, I’m checking into a room…under, um, Baby Girl.”

You cringe as you relay the information but all the young lady does behind the hotel counter is beam over at you as she types on her computer. 

“Ah and here’s your key. Do you need an escort or anything?”

“Oh, uh, no, ma’am, thank you.”

“No problem! The gentleman said he would be right there.”

You glanced around you nervously as you rode the glass elevator up to the floor your room was at. You appreciated that they didn’t make you go to some run-down Bates Motel but you were still a bit on edge. 

Heading for the door, you paused taking a deep breath before putting in the key and slowly entering the room. It was a modest little room but lived up to its five-star rating just on looks alone. Shifting your gaze, you realized quickly you were alone but noticed a note with the words “Baby Girl” on the mattress. 

Lifting it up, you found a black silk eye mask one would use for sleeping folded underneath. 

“Please place this mask over your eyes and we will be right in. 

We know it took a lot of trust for you to drive out here so we’re trying to meet you halfway.”

Taking a seat, you sighed as you tried to put the thing over your head, struggling a bit as a bruise had begun to form where your ex tugged at your dress. 

The sound of the door clicking and swinging slowly open caught your attention as you froze in place. 

“Um, f-full disclosure, my eyes are closed as well. I couldn’t get this thing further down and I could see under the—” You point at the bottom of the mask as the door closed. 

Cologne filled your nostrils as footsteps walked closer to you. 

“Is it ok if I touch you so I can fix it?”

Your head tilted to the side at the sultry, smooth voice just above you.

“Yeah…who-who is this?”

“I’m the mogul in our name. Rockstar is on his way.”

“Were you two not together?”

You feel the atmosphere shift as he kneels in front of you and his fingers gently hold your head as he adjusts the mask to be more comfortable.

“We were but he wanted to stop and grab some things in the lobby. How does that feel?”

“Better, thank you.”

He withdrawals his hands but he doesn’t move as you feel his eyes scanning you over. Braving crossing a boundary, your hands carefully reach out and find his cheeks. Taking a hold of your wrists, Mogul helps guide your movement over his fluffy hair making you smile at how soft it is. When your thumb finds his lips, he exhales heavily and his warm breath has your pussy clenching around nothing. 

Abruptly, the door beeps and opens again as the smell of cigarettes fills the room.

“Do you know how hard it is to find ice in this goddamn palace!?”

Your head tilts again as you try to follow the new voice as he moves about the room. 

“And that would be the rockstar.”, the man in front of you assures as he pats your thigh and sits beside you. As he goes to release your hand, you immediately reach for him again, afraid of being in the dark now that they were here.

“Next building you buy should be a fucking hotel so you can put things where us humans can find them.”

You hear what sounds like someone being lightly hit as everything becomes silent again. 

“Hey, sweetheart. Sorry. My mouth tends to move before my brain does.”, he replies in your direction at a bit of a calmer register as he bounces on to the bed beside you. “God, asshole got you good, huh? Ok, this is going to be cold.”

You yelp and wince when something freezing lands on your arm. 

“I searched for like an actual icepack but I guess the 5 stars don’t include first aid.”

“Ok! I get it. You’re not used to fancy places, dude. Jesus.”

Rockstar laughs through his teeth making you smile again as your free hand reaches towards where you assume he is. Your fingers touch hair first and your eyebrows scrunch together as you realize you found the ends just above his shoulder. 

“Yeah, I, uh, wouldn’t run my fingers through that. It’s all tangled. You may get stuck and have to stay with us forever.”, he chuckles before it trails off. 

You can feel them both watching you as your palm finds his cheek and like with his friend your thumb moves along his bottom lip. They were a bit more chapped but based on the smell you assumed that was due to the cigarettes. As your hand began to travel down his neck, you paused and pulled away not wanted to make either man uncomfortable. 

“I’m sorry.”, you mumble.

“What are you sorry for, honey?”

“I don’t mean to be…that much of a brat, you know. I like talking to you both to and I want to see where this goes but…I guess I’m like him sometimes.” You pause as you gesture towards the rockstar. “My mouth moves before my brain. I’ll understand if you don’t want to be my Daddies anymore.”

Both men were silent for what felt like an eternity before the ice was removed from your skin and replaced by lips. A pleasant sigh escaped you as he tenderly kissed your bruises.

“Why did you ex hurt you?”, Mogul asked.

“Because he’s a fucker.”

“Yeah, we gathered that.”, Rockstar teased as he leaned away from you but intertwined your fingers with his. 

“He, uh, took me on a date to this tacky little restaurant that I told him a million times I hate and then on the drive home he insinuated because he took me out I’d want to…you know.”, you exhale as your head hangs. “I’m just so tired of being lonely. I just want someone to take care of me. ME. Not the supposed ‘whore who needs to be put in her place’ or ‘the desperate big girl’. I’m strong and I can take care of myself. I’m just…tired.”

Fingers tenderly moved your hair behind on of your ears. 

“God, I love your attitude.”

“It’s not uncommon for us to constantly run into ‘yes’ people. It’s one of the problems we have with Babies. Always ‘Yes, Daddy.’ Or ‘Of course, Daddy.’ Sometimes we can’t tell if it’s them being genuine or pandering to us to get what they want. Which…I guess is fine but…”

“Not what we’re looking for.”

Your hands search for Mogul’s face and he grins as he leans in allowing you to touch him. When your lips find his, however, he hastily pulls back and rises to his feet. 

“Hey, no, honey. You don’t have to do that. That’s not why we came down here.”

You feel yourself start to panic, losing your bearings since you can’t see. You had gotten used to them both being next to you and when he stood up you suddenly felt lost. 

“I’m right here, princess. You’re ok. Everything’s ok.”, Rockstar murmurs in your ear as he squeezes your thigh.

“You don’t want to fuck me?”, you ask to the void, unsure of exactly where the other man may be. 

A deep, guttural groan echoes in front of you as you turn your head towards it.

“I’ve never wanted something or someone so bad in my life, baby, but… that’s not why we came here.”

“He doesn’t want you to feel used. Your ex tried to do that and he doesn’t want you to feel like we’re the same.”

“I don’t. I don’t feel that way at all, Daddy.” Your voice had dropped into that little girl tone as you fully allowed yourself to be vulnerable for them. “Please…”

Lips connected to yours again but the taste was different. The nicotine that lingered on his tongue mixed with the slight taste of mint toothpaste set your body on fire as it fully came to life and you wrapped your arms around the man’s neck as he gently tilted you onto your back.

The bed dipped on your other side and you disconnected from one set of lips to another. You became lost in his kisses as his tongue danced with yours and their hands roamed your skin. 

“We’re going to be gentle tonight, baby girl. Let us take care of you.”

You allowed them to undress you and waited patiently as they removed their own clothes. Lying on either side of you, they each lifted one of your legs over their hips as their lips and tongues sucked on your neck.

Rockstar’s fingers glided through your folds and you groaned loudly as he massaged circles into your clit. While running your hand through his hair, Mogul licked and sucked on one of your nipples making your hips buck as you searched for more friction. 

“Please.”

“What do you want, sweetheart? You want my fingers?”

“Yes, Daddy, please.”

His nose presses against your cheek, his mouth opening in a silent moan as he effortlessly guides two of his digits inside of your core. 

“Fuck. I was right. You are tight. Jesus, sweetheart, our cocks are going to stretch you open, baby.”

“Can…Can I have you both?”

“Can you handle that?”, Mogul asked with a slight whine of want. 

“Yeah, Daddy. I can, I promise.”

“Baby girl, I don’t think you understand what you’re asking for.”, he chuckles and you listen as he sucks on what you assume is his fingers. “You may think we’re cocky but trust us we’ve earned the right to be.”

You suck in a breath as you twist your hips and feel two long thick fingers pushed into your ass as both men thrust their digits into you. 

“Oh…my…”

“Can a little girl like you handle your Daddy’s big cocks inside of you at the same time?”

Your hands cling to the man in front of you as you passionately kiss him, his tongue catching your moans as you tremble and trench his fingers as you cum. 

“Y-Yes, I can…I can handle it.”

They abruptly sit up and manhandle you around the bed, Mogul’s arms holding you tightly as he places himself on the edge of the mattress with his legs hanging off the side. Just as you had, his palm comes up to caress your face as his thumb traces your lips. 

“You’re so beautiful, baby.” You softly smile at the sincerity in his voice while he circles your arms around his neck. “Just hang on to Daddy, ok? We got you.”

His hair tickles your nose as he tilts his head and grips his cock between your bodies. 

“Shit, um, I almost forgot. Is it ok…I don’t think we have condoms.”

“It’s ok. I’m protected and I’m clean. You can cum inside me…if you want to…”

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re going to kill us. Ok, go ahead and baby let me know when you’re ready for me.”

“Yes, sir.”

You feel his mushroom tip tease your entrance making you both moan. 

“Take your time, honey. I got you.”

As you slowly descend onto him, he sucks in a breath as your fingers thread through his hair. 

“So big. Fuck, Daddy.”

“How does she feel, man?”

“Mmpf, tight. That’s it. You’re almost there.”

When you’re fully seated on top of him, his forehead leans to rest on yours as his humid breath fans your face. The action causes you to clench around him and he grunts in pleasure.

“Hang on to me.”, he whispers as he tips back onto his hands tilting you with him. 

Rockstar spits in his palm behind you and you mewl as he rubs it between your cheeks.

“Are you ready, princess?”

“Yes, Daddy, I’m ready.”

Holding your ass open, he gradually slides into you.

“Oh fuck. I wasn’t expecting… goddamn baby girl.”

Ringed fingers take hold of your bicep as both men thrust into you at the same time hitting every spot inside of you that has you melting into them. 

“Oh my God. Yes!”

“Yeah, baby? Fuck, dude. I don’t know how—mmm—how long I’m gonna last. Her ass feels so good.” A hand slaps your behind making you moan as another strong palm grips the back of your thigh guiding your movements as you bounce back into theirs. 

Lips in front of you open mouth kiss your chest up to your neck as you push them closer to your skin. 

“Please. Fuck, Daddy! M’gonna cum.”

Slamming their hips up to meet yours, your body quivers as the coil snaps.

“Atta girl, honey! Making a mess all over our cocks and coming hard like that. So fucking sexy.”

Clinging to them tightly, you allowed them to use you to chase their highs. The man behind you warms your insides first, grunting as his rhythm falters. The man in front of you soon follows thrusting his spend deep inside of you.

“We’re going to pull out, sweetheart, ok?”

“Ok, Daddy.”

After carefully removing themselves, you feel yourself being lifted into the air and spun around before being placed on soft pillows. A wet rag cleans you and you pleasantly sigh as you curl under the covers that were placed over your body. 

“Are you both going to stay?”

Cool metal touches your skin as a hand pets your head. 

“Do you want us to?”

“I promise I won’t look.”

Warmth encases you as they lay on either side, murmuring praises as you steadily fall asleep. 

#################

When you woke up the next morning you were alone, finding a note on the nightstand that said they thought it best to leave before you woke up but that the room was yours for as long as you need and to message them when you made it home. 

You did what they requested but decided to utilize the rest of your Sunday for yourself thinking about everything that happened. You heard your phone pinging but you didn’t want to talk to anyone wishing you could call in that following Monday. Unfortunately, you made a promise to a friend, you couldn’t break. 

“Y/N, honey, are you alright?”, your colleague asks as she lightly elbows your side. 

“I’m fine. Just an interesting weekend.”

“Alright, guys so this where all the important decisions are made.”, the building tour guide obnoxiously smiled as she guided the class around the office space. “Let’s see if the boss is available.”

“Well thank you for chaperoning with me. When Mrs. Ludwig cancelled I thought I would have to reschedule.”

“No problem. I know nothing about business and economics but…”, you giggle. 

“Holy shit!”

“Mark!”, your friend shouts. “Watch your mouth! Jesus!”

“Mrs. Raymond, it’s Eddie Munson. The guitarist from Corroded Coffin!”

Turning your head in that direction, you realize two men are staring your way, one of them indeed the famous rockstar. 

Rockstar…

Blinking you tilt your head as you notice the rings on his fingers.

That voice. I knew that voice.

“It’s not uncommon for us to see Mr. Munson around here. Him and Mr. Harrington have been friends for a long time. Right, sir?”, the tour guide asks.

“Steve Harrington? The business mogul?”

Mogul…

“See, Y/N. You know some things about the business world.”, your friend grins. 

As the world around you seems to slow down to a halt, you three continue to stare at each other as you figure out where to go from here.

[damiansgoodgirll]

don’t break my heart 8 i can’t wait 💕💕

I’M SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG…part 9 is already in the making!

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7.

rhea ripley x reader (platonic) / damian priest x reader (platonic) / drew mcintyre x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

‼️this chapter contains topics like fear of abandonment, negative thoughts, loneliness, panic attacks, fear of rejection, paranoid reader, anxiety, angst in general‼️

DON’T BREAK MY HEART - PART 8

it was bad blood weekend and you were a nervous wreck. you didn’t know why but you had a sixth sense, feeling that it was going to be bad. in your mind you saw rhea and damian losing. you saw drew and punk destroying each other and you were terrified because you couldn’t do anything to prevent all of that. it was just your imagination - you told yourself - but as the days passed, your feelings got worse and in less than two hours from the start of the show, you were completely terrified.

adam forbid you to go and help rhea, meaning that she was alone out there. you knew she didn’t need your help to win a match, especially against liv morgan, but you never knew what the judgment day was up to.

you saw how drew trained himself this week, you knew he was ready for the match, but having him, alone, in a cell with punk, was scaring you. he told you multiple times that no matter the outcome, he would make punk see hell, and by now, you knew that drew was serious. he didn’t care about winning or losing, he wanted this to be a revenge on punk, for costing him the world title.

as you were all backstage, you could feel the tension. drew tried to stay calm, especially seeing how agitated you were, but truth was, he wasn’t calm either. he was ready for that match.

the hell in a cell match was going to be the first one, probably the most anticipated match of the night.

“be careful out there okay?” you whispered as he finished getting ready.

“i will, i promise” he tried to reassure you but you didn’t really believe him.

chuckling, you looked up at him “you won’t, i know you…i already see blood and tears so please, don’t be the one i see bleeding in my imagination” you tried to be sarcastic but deep down you know that there was a huge possibility of drew coming back with blood and deep cuts.

“well, then you have a large imagination” he joked “i can’t promise you that but i promise you that i’ll be careful okay?” he smiled down, trying to reassure you as best as he could.

rhea and damian were both getting ready for their matches so they weren’t watching punk and drew completely destroying each other, meaning you were left alone in your little changing room watching the show on the tv screen in front of you.

drew wasn’t careful. you saw blood during the first fifteen minutes of the match. both men were heavily bleeding. you wished they stopped at the tables and chairs but they both went too far. you could hear the crowd cheering but there was an heavy tension backstage, as if this wasn’t supposed to happen.

of course you knew there was going to be blood and a lot of brutality but for a minute you thought that it was too much. thirty minutes into the match and both men had no intention of stopping. more blood, more violence, more gore. you quickly left your changing room and walked around backstage, you had no intention of finishing that match.

you tried, but seeing drew like that was too much for you.

“girl where are you going?” you heard jey’s voice calling you when he saw you wandering around with nowhere to go “come here!” he gently smiled and pulled you into a bigger locker room. him and few people of the crew were watching the match.

“oh god…” you whispered seeing how badly injured was drew. you saw the big jump he took on the metal stairs and how hard he hit his back. you closed your eyes for a moment, trying to get that image out of your head - he broke his back - you thought - it’s over for him. you didn’t care who was going to win, you just wanted the match to be over. luckily a few minutes later, punk finished his moves on drew, making him the winner of the match.

you could see that neither of the men were able to stand properly. punk fell on his knees and drew was still trying to catch his breath inside of the ring. it was an hell of a match but it was too much for you. you just wanted to get to drew and hug him, comfort him.

you excused yourself from jey and the rest of the crew and sprinted out towards the entrance but security stopped you, telling you that drew needed to be medicated first.

your mind was racing. rhea was getting ready for her match. damian was getting ready for his match. drew was being medicated somewhere in the backstage and you were standing there alone with your thoughts as people kept working around you. you felt small, too small.

you didn’t care - you needed to know how drew was doing so you walked towards the medical area and when you saw him getting his wounds cleaned, your stomach turned on you.

drew saw you and he weakly smiled at you, aiming for you to come in.

you didn’t know what to say. he didn’t know what to say. but the sight of blood made you sick so you tried to look anywhere in the room expect him.

“y/n…” his rough voice called you.

“hey…” you walked a little closer till you sat down next to him “you promised me that you would have been careful” you joked, making him slightly chuckle.

“i’m here, alive…that’s a promise” he smiled, looking at you.

“you got everyone worried…you got me so fucking worried, drew i thought i lost you” you didn’t mean to sound so weak, you didn’t mean to let everyone in the room know about your relationship but you couldn’t help your emotions.

“hey…i’m okay, i’m here…just some cuts but i’m okay, i promise you” drew reassured you to keep you calm but deep down he knew he failed. he wanted to show you he was capable of doing it but he failed and he was ashamed of himself. he knew that you would have never judged him but that wasn’t what his mind was telling him “hey y/n…do you mind if i rest a little bit? i feel like i just need to close my eyes” he wanted - needed - your comfort but he felt like he didn’t deserve it.

you were taken aback from his demand but you knew that you couldn’t say no to him. after what he just been through, he needed to rest, he needed time for himself “absolutely…let me know if you need anything okay?” he smiled softly kissing your cheek before letting you go.

feeling a little down you hoped to meet either damian or rhea backstage but none of them was anywhere to be found.

damian was next and he was about to enter the ring so you sat backstage and watched the match with a little anxiety as he was going to face finn. after everything he put you through you knew that all you wanted to see was damian destroying finn but the judgment day was going to interfere and he was there all alone. anxiously you watched the match and couldn’t help your happiness the moment he won. even if the judgment day tried to help finn, they all failed miserably and you couldn’t help but laugh.

as time passed you waited for rhea’s match. she trained so hard for this moment and you knew that she was more than ready to fight back. she had this match, she had this moment and no one was going to take it away from her, especially liv. she didn’t have dom’s help and she was there all alone. you knew rhea was going to win. she had to win. it was such an easy match for her, plus seeing dom in that cage made you laugh - he had what was coming for him.

so what did go wrong?

no one expected to see raquel back. she wasn’t in the script, she wasn’t in the plan.

rhea won by disqualification but liv still held the title, she still held the crown and no matter how good rhea was, she knew it would have been hard to get her title back.

you stayed there, watching as liv and raquel along with dom celebrated over rhea’s lost and your heart broke for her even more. she didn’t deserve all of that.

wondering what to do, you let rhea have some time for herself before you could join her in her changing room.

around fifteen minutes passed and you couldn’t wait any longer, you needed to see her, to comfort her and to let her know that she did amazing no matter the outcome. seeing the two most important people of your life losing on the same day made your heart sank.

slowly approaching her changing room, you softly knocked on her door and stepped in when she said so.

but she probably wasn’t expecting to see you because her nose scrunched a little too much for your liking.

“rhea…you were so great out there, you had the match in your hands…” she didn’t even let you finish.

“yeah but i lost. again, once again i don’t have my title, so who cares if i was the best one out there? listen, i need time alone” she was clearly upset and you couldn’t blame her.

“rhea…” you whispered. it pained you seeing her talking so low of herself.

“i don’t wanna talk” she spat back.

“rhea…”

“no! i don’t wanna talk! i don’t wanna talk or see you!” - oh, she was mad but with you?

“rhea what?” you weren’t used of her screaming at you, you weren’t used of fighting with her.

“i lost! i fucking lost against that liv morgan and where were you? i needed you, but you weren’t there?” she waited a few seconds before start screaming at you again “where the fuck were you!” this version of rhea scared you.

“rhea you knew i couldn’t! the management said…”

“i don’t give a shit about what they said! i needed you and you weren’t there! i’m always here for you and for one time where i needed your support, you weren’t there! fuck!” she knew better than to scream at you, knowing she would have triggered some memories of your past but anger was taking the best of her and she didn’t care about you or anyone at the moment.

“rhea i’m sorry…” tears in your eyes.

“i don’t care! now go, i need to stay alone!” she said turning her back on you.

you slowly walked away, letting all of your tears fall down.

you needed to talk with someone, anyone yet drew was probably sleeping and damian wasn’t answering his phone, too busy celebrating his victory.

you were alone - again.

liv was right. finn was right. you would ended up being alone. rhea was going to leave and it was just a matter of time.

you needed to leave the arena as soon as possible.

you felt like the space around you was suffocating you. the air was thick and you struggled breathing. what was going on?

walking fast through the corridors, you took a deep breath when you saw one of the emergency exit and the big orange door right in front of you. quickly pushing the door open, you took a deep breath when you felt the cold air hitting your face, you were free - you thought.

but your chest was still heavy and the tears wouldn’t stop falling.

you took your phone out of your pocket and quickly called damian, hoping he was going to answer this time. “come on damian…please, please…” but you were met again with his voice recording saying to leave a message if needed. where was he?

you needed to go back to the hotel as soon as possible but with no rental of your own was pretty hard. wiping your tears away and calling an uber, you tried to act as everything was normal even if you were slowly dying inside. everything was so wrong and the worst part is that you couldn’t do anything about it.

as if the night wasn’t already ruined, the uber driver was a fan. you didnt mind talking with fans - you could talk about wrestling all day long - but your mind wasn’t in the right place at the moment and all you could focus on was the fact that once again you were alone. you tried to be polite but all you wanted was to get away from that small space and breathe fresh air again. as you got out, you couldn’t help the tears falling down your cheeks. you felt pathetic, crying over nothing. the words liv and finn said to you echoing in your head - how you would ending up being alone - and the things was you started to believe them.

why were you being so paranoid? drew was sleeping, the match took a big tool on him but that didn’t mean he hated you or he didn’t want to see you. damian was celebrating his victory somewhere with his family, friends and probably some models too. but if you were family too, why didn’t he invite you? and rhea was mad. you still couldn’t point out if she was mad because she lost the match and needed someone to blame or if she genuinely was mad at you for not interacting with her during the game. she knew you couldn’t. she knew that if you intervened, both of you would have gotten in big trouble with the management, risking up to month fine without wrestling. did she really wanted that?

your mind was spinning and you tried to reach your bedroom as fast as you could.

in the meantime, damian was at the arena, he didn’t leave, he stayed there the whole time finishing up some interviews and even if he wanted to go out and drink something with his family, he was tore down and all of his body ached - he couldn’t wait to go back to bed.

“…thank you so much damian” jackie thanked him once he finished his interview, leaving him there in his changing room.

taking a deep breath, he took his phone out of his pocket and grew immediately worried when he saw all of your missed calls.

he tried to call back but your phone went immediately on silent mode, as if it was turned off.

weird - he thought - you never turned your phone off.

walking to find rhea, she was nowhere to be found. he knew she was a hothead and he knew that she probably wanted to stay alone.

his only option was drew and he prayed the man was still in the arena. someone from the staff told him that drew was still in the medical bay so he walked over there, asking from time to time if anyone had seen you.

knocking on drew’s door, the scottish man let him in.

“damian…” drew definitely wasn’t expecting him. he was hoping it was you.

“how are you man?” damian genuinely concerned about drew’s condition after the rough match he had in the cage with punk.

drew chuckled a little before letting his real thoughts out “i’m glad to be alive you know? i wasn’t expecting this much violence but it was one hell of a match, i felt better to be honest” he joked “i’ll be okay, thanks…”

“listen man, have you seen y/n? she called me a few times earlier and i couldn’t answer but when i tried to call her back it goes straight to her voicemail…” damian directly asked drew.

drew knew you never turned your phone off so he was taken aback from damian’s words “i saw her once the match was over, she came here and we talked a little bit…then i asked her if…well, i asked her if she could leave, i wanted to sleep a little…”

“and…?”

“and she left. she probably wasn’t expecting my request” drew took a deep breath “i just needed some time alone you know? i haven’t seen her since then, but i checked my phone a few minutes ago and she hasn’t called me. have you tried rhea?”

damian shook his head “rhea is nowhere to be found. she needs time to cool off after her match, i don’t think she saw y/n…i just feel like it’s weird, she has called me five times and now her phone is like dead…” worried look painted his face.

drew stood up immediately from the couch he was sitting and checked damian’s phone as he tried to call you once again.

“dead line…” damian whispered.

where were you?

back at the hotel, you quickly paced around the room, trying to focus on something, anything that could have helped you relax and yet nothing was working.

your hands began shaking and while you reached for your phone, you saw that it died while you were walking to the hotel. looking for a charger, you threw your suitcase upside down and when you found it, you plugged it into the wall and rapidly waiting for your phone to turn on.

“come on…” you whispered. you didn’t know what you were actually waiting for. damian wasn’t going to answer anyway and drew said he needed time for himself, leaving you with no options at all.

as your phone turned on, you saw the missed calls from both damian and drew and a shaky breath left your lips.

you didn’t even have time to call one of the boys back that an incoming call from drew appeared on your home screen.

taking a deep breath you answered his call.

“y/n?” drew asked the moment you answered.

“drew…” your voice shaking. what were you crying for? he answered and yet you couldn’t find peace.

“y/n, what’s going on? baby, why are you crying?” drew’s heart broke when he heard your soft sobs from the phone.

“i…i don’t know, i don’t know what’s going on…drew i, i can’t breathe…i don’t know what to do…” clearly panicking again, drew needed to know exactly where you were.

“y/n where are you? i’m coming to get you” he was worried and his heart was racing.

“what? no, no drew you need to rest, i…you stay there and-…”

“cut the bullshit y/n, where are you?” he hated being so severe with you but he needed to know what was going on and if you were in any type of danger.

“at the hotel…my room” was all that you were able to say before drew spoke again.

“we are coming to get you…” he said before cutting the call off.

was he really coming for you? were you really so pathetic that you needed him? did you wake him up just because you were acting stupid again?

your mind couldn’t stop those horrible thoughts and all you wanted to do was disappear, pretend like you never existed - maybe everyone life would be better without you.

what if rhea had a better teammate? what if that teammate would have broken the rules for her? what if you are the reason the judgment day broke up? were they really so tired of you? what if drew had a girlfriend who was normal and not acting crazy like you did?

you tried to breath as drew taught you but you couldn’t. and the idea of drew seeing you like this again was killing you. you made so much progress and now you felt like you fucked everything up.

you were sat on the floor, your back on the edge of the bed as you tried to calm yourself down when you heard the hotel room door opening.

a very bruised drew sat on the floor with you, right in front of you while damian stood behind, clearly worried about you.

“y/n…baby, what’s wrong?” drew’s voice was soft. the moment he met your eyes, he knew something wrong had happened.

“i’m sorry…i’m so sorry i shouldn’t have called, damian you don’t have to be here…you should be out celebrating your victory and-…”

but damian wasn’t agreeing with you “the hell? hermosa, what’s going on? i’m sorry i didn’t answer before but i’m here now, we are both here…”

“yes that’s the problem! you shouldn’t be dealing with me! you have a life and worse problems than to stay here with me!” you couldn’t stop the tears from falling “i told you drew, my head is a fucking mess, i don’t deserve you, i don’t deserve any of you…all i do is complain and fucking up, i’m just a burden to everyone and”

“what the heck are you talking about darling…look at me” his big calloused hands gently lifted your face “look at me love” while his thumb was wiping your tears away “i don’t know what’s going on in that pretty head of yours, i wish i knew but i don’t…” he spoke softly to you “you’re not a burden, listen to me, you’re not a burden. don’t listen to what those voices in your head are saying, listen to me…you’re everything to me, i love you so much and it’s okay to cry, to feel lost, but i’m here, your family is here and we aren’t leaving you…” he really hoped that you could listen to him.

opening his arms for you, he gently let you lay your head on his shoulder. his hands stroking your back as if he wanted to calm you down, knowing how much you craved for physical touch.

drew and damian knew that you needed help and they were both right there for you. they knew you were strong and yet so fragile. they knew the toxic environment you came from, they knew that you feared of being left behind, alone. they knew that somehow, no matter how much love they showed to you, you still felt alone. and they knew that you get easily overwhelmed by the smallest things. people screaming, making too much noise or breaking things - that would wake terrible memories.

“yet she did…” you whispered, closing your eyes because the idea of your mind playing flashbacks of what happened with rhea earlier was enough to send you on the edge.

“who?” damian asked.

“rhea…she left, and it’s all on me” tears couldn’t stop falling from your eyes.

damian and drew exchanged a worried look. you two were practically inseparable.

what did rhea do?

[baewritez]

Just A Little Touch Up (0)

( Aaron Pierre X Plus Size OC )

Summary : The black and white life of a makeup artist is given color by A-List Client

Tags : Work Place Romance , Age Gap , Plus Size OC , BDSM , 18 +

 How does one find themselves bent over a kitchen counter with their hands tied behind their back? Better yet how does one find themselves pent under one of the most beautiful men to grace my eyes?! But that is it; that is what holds the answer. If you were to ask how I ended up in this position, I would say it was an exchange of looks, eyes full of desires, wants, needs so pure like honey that you could almost taste its sweetness. His eyes, like crashing waves held me captive fixed in place while a smirk started to spread on his face. I want to be the next thing spread across those juicy pump lips, as if thunder rolled out his lips so confidently, he said “So do you know how long we are in hair and makeup for?” his voice piercing the darkest part of my desires leaving with a newfound longing.  

Strumming over my words “t-t-t-two hours I think” warm air filled the trailer blowing past him as he walked up the stairs closing the door as he stepped in. His cologne of warm nutmeg and patchouli oil filled the air as I fought the urge to take a deep breath. “Thanks, my assistant and manager won’t be on set til 9:00am so it’s just me and you.” Looking up at him I felt like a dwarf, and he was a skyscraper as he moved closer towards me. “Um that is okay I think I can be finished with your makeup before then. You can sit here.” I gestured with my hand to the black makeup chair in front of me. He held out his large hand towards me. “I am Aaron” I looked at the veins near his knuckles; my mouth started to water as I tried to swallow my thirst down. The image of his big hands grabbing my curly puff and pulling flashed in my mind. SLAPPING my hand down I took a step a back and smiled. My heartbeat was like an alarm in my ear at just the idea of being close to him set it into a frenzy. “Would you like a water or coffee?”  His hand slowly went back down to his side as confusion blossomed on his face, but he gently brushed off the interaction and exchange. As he started to get settled into the seat his bulky frame filled the space around me as I instinctively grabbed the counter behind me. A look of concern washed over his face as his handsome facial features scrunched up. Holding up both of his hands the white shirt and black leather jacket raised up to show his chiseled deep v leading to what I could only think was euphoria “I don’t bite, Love” his husky voice breaking the awkward silence. But all I wanted was for him to leave bite marks and hickeys where no one could see and even in places where they could be seen. I wanted him to show the world that I was his; but that was a fantasy. “So, water, right?” My voice trembled, as I started to break my gaze from his charcoal jeans as it now covered the valley of ecstasy. Slowly tracing up past his white v neck t-shirt into his hazelnut brown and storm cloud eyes taking in his clear and blemish free skin. “Water is perfect, Love.” he replies. Aaron moves his arm to rest of the side arm of the chair and he places his hand on chin and rests it on his full amber beard. Taking a deep breathe I turned to face the counter and mirror; I bent down opening the mini fridge to grab a cool bottle of water as a shiver ran down my spine. Coming up from the fridge I am stopped in my tracks as I glance into the mirror only to be frozen in time as Aaron’s eyes created a fire in his wake. I am the match, and he was setting me ablaze his eyes moving from legs to my ass gliding up like a feather. My palms start to form sweat beads became clammy. It’s as if I was rubbed up against a balloon the hair on my neck and arm stands small shocks pulse throughout my body. The sound of our heavy breathing and the humming of the ac unit filled my ears. He was my Hades making me his Persephone as his bottom lip is captured by his teeth. My mouth is left open the idea of his thick finger filling that emptiness sends another shiver down my spine and my body goes relax. The thud of the bottle snaps both of us out of drunken stupor.

** A/N : I hope i didn't keep you waiting too long. If you like the preview let me know. Welcome to BaeWritez where desire can be fulfilled. - XOXO BAE

[mooki3-bear]

I Need You pt.2 (paige bueckers x black!reader

Part one <3

Summary: You and Paige finally unite

Warning: Just cursing

word count: 1757

Three months. It’s been three months since me and Paige went on our “break”. 

The first month was the hardest. Just a lot of crying, bargaining, rants, and Chipotle. I sat in my puddle of despair, wondering what Paige was doing.

What she was thinking, hoping the thoughts were about me.

My worst thought was thinking that she had moved on to someone new, or someone that has always been there.

The second month was the month that I told myself to stand the fuck up.

This month had its ups and downs. I moved in with my best friend who welcomed me with open arms. She’s been more than supportive since the very beginning. She comforted me, fed me when I didn’t feel like eating, and took the remote from my hands every time I felt like turning on a UConn game (I'm healing slowly but surely).

I even picked up a hobby! I started taking a ballet class to keep my mind off of things! My bleeding feet are a VERY good distraction.

The third month is when I felt like a new and healed me. My skin was clear, my curls were popping, my body was giving. I felt better.

However, no matter what I did or how much better I thought I was…I can’t get her out of my mind.

“Come on! You’ve been stuck in this house all day! It’s getting sad Mookie” my bestie, Quenlin, says while ripping the blanket from my body.

“My dance class got canceled today and new episodes of my show came out. I just thought I could lay here and wallow all day” I moan while pulling my hoodie over my face. I turn my head to see Quenlin shaking her head.

“Girl, you smell like ten cans of ass and your hair looks a mess. You cannot let this girl get to you like this” She turns to open the curtains.

The blinding light burns my eyes as I wince and pull a pillow over my face. She rolls her eyes as she lays next to me on the bed.

“Let’s go bar hopping tonight! You love that shit” she yells as she shakes my aching body! She wasn’t wrong, bar hopping was probably my favorite activity. I lay there and contemplate whether I should get cute and have fun or lay in the imprint I have made in the bed and cry.

“I’ll buy you Chipotle” and with those four words, I hopped in the shower, got dressed, and was ready to head out the door.

9:30 Pm

Me and quen were on our second bar of the night and I felt alive again. I had flashes of images of Paige in my mind throughout the night but I decided I would deal with that issue when I went home. 

“Girl, can you go order us some drinks? I gotta piss real bad” Quenlin said, doing the potty dance at her grown age. 

“Go ahead, and stop doing that shit” I laugh as she waddles off to the bathroom. I make my way up to the bar and order me and my friend vodka cranberries. 

I twiddled my thumbs waiting for the drinks, when I finally heard it.

“Hey beautiful” My body froze when I heard the voice I had longed for so much but also dreaded hearing. I slowly turned my head to see the beautiful blonde that had been occupying my mind for months.

She looked so good, but also drained.

Words tried so hard to leave my mouth but nothing came out.

“You look good. Like, good. Guess the break up was good to you” She lets out an awkward laugh as I am still in shock but gain the ability to speak.

“Eh. It was ok for me. A lot of crying hehe” I mentally slap myself, who the fuck says that. 

“Yeah, same” She looks down at her feet trying to figure out what to say next.

“Listen, can we talk, please? I wanna fix this. I-”

“Unh Unh! What are you doing here” Quenlin appears from thin air as she jumps in front of me to confront Paige. This breaks me out of my trance as I jump to defend Paige. 

“No, Quen! It’s ok! Me and her are just going to talk outside” I put my hands on my best friend's shoulders to calm her down. She turns to look at me and then back at Paige.

“Fine, but if you try some manipulative shit, it’s me and you” she pokes piage with her finger before walking away. Paige looks back at me “I never liked her. I just want you to know that.”

I laughed as I walked to the door, Paige following close behind. When we get a good distance away from the bar we stop and just look at each other.

I can tell she’s trying to find words to say, I couldn’t find any either.

We stood in silence for a few more minutes before one of us finally spoke.

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I made you feel like shit for so many months. You should have been my priority and I didn’t do that” Paige let out a shaky breath before looking down at the ground. I waited for her to continue but….she just stopped.

“Paige…that's not the only reason why I wanted to take a break. Yes, you ignoring me was a big part of it but there was so much more” She finally raises her head to look me timidly in the eyes.

I take a shaky breath before continuing. “It was the petty comments, the constant arguing, and the insecure feeling I always felt” I started choking up on my words, and the memories of me and the girl I love screaming at each other came flooding back.

“I'm sorry! I was just so stressed with basketball, the interviews, and the constant attention that I guess I got stressed” She quickly tried to defend herself, flailing her arms in the air.

“I understand how stressful that could be but…I would've been there for you. I could've listened to your rants, helped you during solo practice, and helped you calm down when you were nervous about an interview…but you shut me out and started bullshit arguments for no reason. I love you so much. I just wanted to help you” I felt a tear roll down my face.

I saw Paige’s face change from defensive to vulnerable in the middle of the conversation.

I let out a sigh as Paige drops her head, tears falling down her pretty face. “Paige, I love you so much. You’re probably the best thing that has happened to me in a long time” I take her hands in mine “but when we have an issue, you can’t just shut me out or brush it off. We need to talk. We need to express ourselves or else it’s just gonna get worse.”

Paige raises her head once more, looking into my brown eyes with her bloodshot blue eyes. “I know…I wanna be better for you baby. I will do anything to make it up to you. I just want things to go back to the way they were” She brings my hand to her lips, placing a tender kiss upon them.

I felt my skin turn hot as her lips connected to my skin, it’s kind of funny how we were together for so long and she still managed to make me nervous.

“I know it seems like an empty promise but I swear I will do everything that I can to make it up to you. I’ll communicate better and I will make sure to do everything that I can to remind you that you're the love of my…I can’t fucking lose you again y/n” she wraps her arms around my body, leaving another kiss on the top of my head.

On instinct, I wrap my arms around her to as I close my eyes to breathe in her perfume.

I was still angry with her but somehow I knew deep down that she was serious about wanting to be better for me. 

She pulls back to look into my eyes before she places an unexpected but loving kiss on my lips. I felt like I was floating on air as my lips touched the ones that they have been craving for three months. With this simple act, she knew that I forgave her 

As we pull away she rests her forehead on mine. 

“Can we just start over please, I miss you so much” Paige giggles while also sniffling. 

I let out a snort as I placed my hand on her cheek “Well we got a long way to go until we are back to the same place but, I think we’ll be ok”.

2 days later

“Ok! I think that’s the last of my shit” I let out a sigh of relief placing the last bit of my clothes back into me and Paige’s shared closet. I fell back into our bed, missing the smell of our sheets. 

I let out a grunt as Paige ran into the room and jumped on top of me. “Jesus Paige! I think you broke one of my ribs” I try to push her off of me as I let out a laugh.

Paige keeps her position on top of me as she puts her face into the crook of my neck. “I'm sorry, baby. I'm just happy you're back” she sighs as she kisses my neck.

“Ew, can yall wait to fuck until after I leave,” Quenlin says as she brings me some more of my stuff in from the car. I laugh as Paige finally rolls off me with a dramatic groan.

I walk over to Quenlin take the box of stuff from her hands and place it on the floor. “Thank you for letting me stay with you,” I say as I hug her.

“Of course, anytime! However, if this shit happens another time me and Paige are gonna have to tussle. You hear me” she yells towards Paige.

“I love you too, Quen” Paige blew a kiss to her.

Quen rolls her eyes before giving me a kiss on the cheek and leaving. 

“Why must y’all fight over me”

“Because you’re the most important thing to us, baby” Paige leaves another kiss on my lips before hopping back onto the shared bed that I will never leave again.

Y'all I am so fuckin sorry this came out so late! But here yall go <3

[trashogram]

He Chose You (P. 7)

Lucifer/Reader: You’ve been chosen to be the Mother of the Antichrist. Rated E.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 13.5 | Part 14 | End

Your sleep had become fitful with dreams that, while not full of violence, left you waking in a cold sweat most mornings. You couldn’t remember most of what happened aside from a parade of images and feelings of discomfort. Sometimes, downright fear. 

The blonde woman was still the star, but you couldn’t remember a word she’d say. The sight of her frowning at two men replayed in your head between sleeping and waking. She frowned at you with dewy wide eyes. 

The woman held her arms out to you: beseeching, sheltering, hurriedly hiding but you were able to escape the gaze of one of the men. 

Fear had spirited you away from unconsciousness when the man’s brown eyes sparked into an unnatural gold. They heated with anger at the mere sight of you. 

—

The only equivalent you could come up with for how you awoke was being jump-started like a car. It took a solid moment of gulping in air and eyeing your surroundings before you could calm the beat of your heart.

“Lucifer?”

It took too much energy to turn and look for him, but you saw that the sheets beside you were disturbed, but duck-less. 

You were overly warm, hopelessly reaching out to run your hand down the opposite side of the bed despite what your eyes told you. 

For a while there was nothing to do but lay in the silence of your darkened room. Eventually your hand drifted into your belly. 

It had become a reflex to pet your own tummy, to feel the bump that had formed there, as small as it was. 

—

You faced forward, looking directly at the screen of your TV without really seeing it. Beside you, Lucifer giggled at whatever was happening between Kermit and Gonzo onscreen. 

His bare hand was latched onto yours, fingers entwined, claws digging into your skin just enough to hurt. Not a lot, just a little bit. Strangely, the discomfort kept you grounded and away from the outlandish yet very real fear that you’d float away without it. 

‘Is it dissociating or disassociation?’

You’d gone long enough with it happening multiple times now but you couldn’t even remember what it was called.

You were pregnant. 

Well, you’d been pregnant for about a month and a half. And your partner in crime had been excited. So excited he’d literally exclaimed ‘oh my golly’ at the news. 

Then he’d had a panic attack, complete with big yet shallow gasps for air and arm flailing, hands flapping, short legs in knee-high boots pacing a hole into your carpet.

You were somewhat grateful for his outburst, if only because taking the steps to placate him was placating unto itself. 

— 

The memory made you smile weakly. A memory that seemed so long ago, even if it had technically happened only a few months prior. 

Everything that had happened afterward had made it seem rosier than it should’ve been. Before things soured so thoroughly that you could barely get out of bed. 

Now, you were exhausted day and night, plagued by not-quite-nightmares during your hibernation-like snoozes, and — when awake — eaten at by fears and doubts. 

You’d never thought seriously about having children. 

There was this permanent barrier to the very idea that lingered in the back of your mind. You don’t know when it formed, or if it was merely a protective mechanism of some kind (God knew you had plenty of those already). Nonetheless, you’d stuck to it, never straying… until now. 

You weren’t the motherly type. And technically you weren’t going to be. As much as Lucifer mooned over you, whether for his own entertainment or because he was genuinely fond of your stupid sarcastic comments and bouts of literary trivia, you would not allow yourself to trust him completely. You had no compunctions about raising the Antichrist once you had fulfilled your end of the deal. 

So you told yourself. Especially when you cycled through detachment and guilt about the creature growing in your womb. Especially when Lucifer was curled up with you, basking in your warmth and bringing you little trinkets and laughing with you at whatever was on TV. Especially when he dropped everything to lay down with you in your sickness, and did anything he could to make you smile, be it with magic tricks or stories from lifetimes ago.

Last night he’d held your hair as you threw up, courtesy of the raw beef you’d craved (thank you, you freaky little fetus). Then he entertained you by shape-shifting into cute animals until you’d cuddled up with his duck self and fallen asleep.

The little slope of your stomach quivered with the rest of your body. You felt the sudden urge to cry. 

—

“Lucifer?”

You braced yourself against the wall to get out of your bedroom. Standing was enough to make you dizzy, skin growing clammy and perspiring while you struggled to move. You were winded after five steps through your rather small apartment. 

Your curiosity was the only thing keeping you going after hearing a series of beeps from outside your door. 

“Aw, shit. Shit, shit, shit! Hold on!”  Lucifer called from a few feet away. 

He was here, in your apartment, more often than not. As a matter of fact, you had the feeling that if you didn’t push him to return to his duties, Lucifer would’ve been with you 24/7. 

Speaking of, he appeared from around the corner just as you buckled and slid against the wall. 

The Devil sprang forward, arms out and ready to catch you. Had you been more yourself, you’d have laughed at the absurdity as most of your weight sagged against its surface and he’d more or less landed on top of you from the side. 

“I’m so so sorry!” He cried, jerking away when you winced. 

“Sorry.” He whispered loudly. “I got your tea and I was trying to make it without waking you but the darn thing wouldn’t stop beeping.” 

“Cassie was here?” You let yourself sway to Lucifer’s side instead of the walls. He was practically carrying you into the living room. 

Unnames illness aside, you found an additional slight against your existence that you still had to keep in contact with your weirdo neighbors. They were both their own flavors of bizarre, but Cassie in particular was extroverted and nosy. 

She brought you tea from her kitchen garden — 

“Just bits and bobs from my little spice garden, things I’ve been growing ‘round the house. Pretty basic stuff: you got your chamomile, mint, there’s rosemary in there too, some cinnamon, ya know.” 

— and wanted to brew it for you while having chats at your kitchen table almost every day. 

Even Lucifer was annoyed by her persistence. 

“Here as in ‘at the door’ but not inside. She actually got it through that thick skull that I didn’t want you to be disturbed.” Lucifer said, equal parts irritated and triumphant. 

You leaned your head on his shoulder. “Thanks.” 

Your eyes closed to avoid the sudden onslaught of more tears when your companion tensed. He stopped short of the couch to relish in the contact. His wistful sigh made your heart throb painfully as you wondered for the umpteenth time how the fucking King of Hell could be so effortlessly sweet. 

‘Just to make pulling out the rug from under you later a bigger betrayal.’

The intrusive thought brought more tears, from eyes screwed up as you wished it away. 

“… can’t make tea as a duck.” Lucifer had carried on while gently lowering you on the cushions. “I did try though, to be fair.” 

He had yet to notice your tears, but your laugh was wet. “I’m sorry I missed that.”

It was sudden when cold hands cupped your face and turned your gaze up. You were met with deeply worried crimson eyes. 

The cold was so nice that you had to snuggle into that touch. “It’s ok.” 

Lucifer’s maw opened and closed a few times, helplessly. 

“Do—uh… do you want me to do that? I can try it again!” He jumped back, getting ready to shift in a puff of fireworks. 

“No, come sit with me.” You held up a shaking hand, trying to ignore your own ashen skin. 

The blond hesitated. 

“Please, Lou.” 

—

Lucifer melted at your request. He came to you immediately and took great care as he rearranged your frail body against his own. 

He was grateful that he’d thrown on his velvet robe that morning twicefold now — once to avoid his elderly worshipper seeing his dick, and twice to be able to pull it to the side so that you could lay your forehead against his cold chest.

The King’s skin would warm up with time and human contact, but he knew that his natural icy exterior did wonders to help your over-warm skin. 

Lucifer fought to not chuckle at the ticklish feeling of your hair against his neck. You laid there against him for a long time, breathing lightly and letting him hold you close. The silence was easy for once, not awkward or uncomfortable. Just one person relying on another for quiet solace.

When you finally spoke, it nearly scared him. “What’s it like? In Hell?” 

“Wh-why’re you asking?” Lucifer tried to play it cool. “That’s not really a fun o-oo-r relaxing…!… topic.” 

“Mmm,” Your head slowly lifted until he count easily count your individual eyelashes. 

“I don’t know if you know this, but there’s a little guy in here.” You pointed between yourself and him, to the little slope of your stomach. “And they're gonna call Hell their home soon. It might be good to know what that’s like before I ship them off.” 

“Oh!” Well, that was easier. “It’s uh, it’s red… and warm.” Lucifer wracked his brain. “Well, my Ring is. See, there are 7 Rings total, and technically I rule them all, but my brothers each kinda made their own homes out of them.” 

“Mine though — mine is full of Sinners, which is what we call the humans that died and were condemned to it. They’re all kinda packed in there, heh. Like, uh, tiny fish. That reek.” 

Your lips pursed. “But no one is burning in molten lava at all times or anything, right?”

“No-oo! Well, I mean it’s not impossible. But it’s not the norm. Nah, people go about their way like they do up here, but even more selfishly and violently.” 

Lucifer smiled at your frowning face. 

“It’s like on Earth? So people work, sleep, eat?”

“Yep!”

“They pay bills? Go to parties? Fuck?” Your brows were nearly to your hairline.

“Mmmm-hm!” 

“And they do it for all of eternity? Forever?”

“Pretty much! In a nutshell…” Was his jolly reply. He squeezed you to him for extra measure.

It was your turn to look flummoxed by the picture he painted, the words he spoke that sounded both improbable and spot on for what Hell would be if it was real. 

Well, not if. 

At last, you sighed. 

“I guess it couldn’t have been all that bad if… if you’ve been there for so long and you’re still so sweet.” Your words were barely audible, muttered into Lucifer’s chest when you gave up on making sense of anything.

But the Ruler of Hell had to stop the last-minute ejection of his own wings at your words.

***

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[commandershepardvasfuckit]

An Arranged Marriage, part 9

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

M!troll x f!reader

1.5k words

Finally home and safe you have a lot of questions and a lot to think about. Your gratefulness for Zen'jan's rescue does not negate the uneasiness of what you saw at the camp or your distrust of Tsov'ka.

--------

“You don’t have to carry me the whole way home” you protested, squirming a bit in Zen’jan’s arms.

“I do not have to, but I want to. Please let me” he responded. “Anyways, you are cold and tired, and you cannot see as well in the dark as I can, I do not want you to trip over anything”.

“Aren’t I too heavy for you be carrying around?”

“I am strong enough, and I want to do this for you anyways”.

That seemed to end the discussion, instead you closed your eyes and tried to focus on the smell of incense.

It was still early when you reached the city, the sun was only starting to rise and only a few people were out and about yet. They looked on but did not dare say a word as a blood covered Zen’jan carried you through the streets.

A wave of relief washed over you as he carried you through the doorway, finally being home, finally feeling like you could take a deep breath.

“I am going to run you a hot bath, you need to clean off” he told you as he carried you to the bathroom still not setting you down though yet.

“I’m alright, you should probably go clean up first anyways” you insisted.

“I will be fine, I can clean up out here, you need to warm up though. And I will just be right out here if you need anything, alright?” he sat you on the edge of the tub and started to fill the bath. “And when you are ready, we can talk about everything. You can ask anything you want and I will answer. I want you to be comfortable around me, if you choose to stay that is, so I want to put your mind at ease”.

You nodded. You had been doing your best to scrub the gore stained image of the camp from your mind, trying to put Zen’jan back into the little box of just being a doting husband and nothing more. It was hard going back to that image with him standing next to you covered in blood.

“Yeah” you said dryly.

He bumped his head against your’s and stayed pressed against you for a moment before seeing himself out.

The warm water felt good on your cold skin and you quickly began cleaning the dirt and blood off you. You scrubbed at your skin until it was raw, like you were trying to scour the memory of the last few hours off of you. For once you did not stay and soak in the tub, instead draining the water and then quickly rinsing yourself under the tap to remove every trace of the last day from you.

As you stepped out of the tub you noticed you did not have clean clothes in the bathroom to change into. You wrapped up in your bath towel and poked your head out the door to ask Zen’jan to bring you something, but to your surprise there was a tidy pile of clothes waiting for you on the floor already. Hastily you grabbed them and dressed.

You wandered back into the main room to find Zen’jan sitting at the lit hearth and wiping himself off with a washcloth and a bucket of water that looked to come from one of the wells outside.

Without a word you sat next to him and took the washcloth from his hand, “May I?” you asked and he reached out his arm for you to clean. Carefully you wiped off every inch of his arm, paying close attention to get everything before moving on to clean his other arm.

Once you were satisfied with with both arms you placed your free hand under his chin and began to gently clean his face.

He watched you so closely, often looking like he wanted to say something and then stopping himself. There was an emotion on his face you could not quite place, at moments it looked like a profound sorrow, or disbelief, that eventually gave way to something more identifiable: longing.

“I am still sorry I did not do this for you, back on the first night” he broke the silence.

“It’s ok, I don’t think I would have let you anyways”.

“But I should have left the hold with you, walked you home, talked to you, and helped you settle in. Maybe I could have explained it to you, maybe you would have let me clean you off, maybe we could have had a better start” he leaned forward and pressed his forehead to yours.

You did not pull away or shy back, instead you leaned in more, nuzzling against him the same way he had nuzzled you the other week. He placed his hand on the back of your head and held you close against him.

“I take it that means you want to stay?” you could hear the relief in his voice when he asked.

You placed your hand on the back of his head and gently pulled him a little closer, unable to really find words but hoping that it was enough.

“You really do not know how happy I am that you still want to be here. Now, I did promise you some answers” he said as he pulled back, “I want you to understand me because I think it will help you be more comfortable”.

“Your common, why are you always so formal?” you asked.

“My common? It is my fourth language, and that also not the sort of question I meant, I think you know that. We can talk about my common later, I promise”.

You had questions for sure, but you had done such a good job of pushing everything down. The worst of the anger you had at him for dragging you to Tsov’ka’s shrine without warning was gone, the fear of Tsov’ka was not though.

“What exactly is Tsov’ka god of?” you asked.

“The shadows, the night, darkness in general, but I think my understanding of it is different than yours” he said.

By now you had finished cleaning his face and had moved on to wiping off his tusks, though the blood had dried into the carvings on them and was proving to be difficult to clean off.

“Then tell me your understanding of it then” you said.

He let out a low hum before speaking, “The shadows give protection, a safe place to hide, there’s also a comfort in the stillness of the night. And you cannot have shadows without light, they are not opposites, they are more intertwined than that, if that makes sense”.

It did not make much sense to you, but you wanted to trust him. The Light was warmth and protection, the Shadows were the opposite, though looking at Zen’jan it was getting harder to accept that the Shadows were as simple as you were taught.

“So, what is an avatar of a god anyways?” you asked.

“Someone chosen by that god to wield their power at times. Having avatars strengthens a god’s influence here in the physical realm, lets their power interact more directly with this world and reinforces their ties with it, and their chosen gets the benefit of that power time to time”.

“But what does that actually mean? What did you actually do at the camp?”

“Are you sure that is what you want to know?” he asked.

“Yes”

“Tsov’ka takes many forms, but mostly appears as a great black jungle cat. He allows his avatars to take his form and be one with the shadows, to fight with fang and claw but be as intangible as the darkness itself”.

The horrid snarling and growling you heard at the camp made more sense now, it had sent chills down your spine but you supposed a great beast made of the shadows would have that effect on most people.

“Do you always fight like that?” you asked.

“No, almost never. It is exhausting and pulls you more into the Nothingness each time. Mortal souls are not meant to be in the Nothingness, only this realm or Reli’s, to be pulled fully into it would pull your soul apart entirely”.

The weight of the situation was setting in, the level of sacrifice he was willing to accept if necessary. Tsov’ka and the Shadows still made you uncomfortable, but undeniably Zen’jan was a good man.

You wrapped your arms around him and hugged on tightly. He had made mistakes, so had you, but even after you screamed at him in fear, even after how hurt he looked when you yelled at him he still risked himself to protect you. He still thought of you before thinking of himself.

You did not choose him, you would have never gotten to choose who you were with anyways, but you got the feeling you were doing much better here with Zen’jan than with any of the upstart naval officers your kingdom had to offer.

Part 10

[scourgeofmyownbrain]

This took way too fucking long- Everyone, gaze upon the Megatron/Galvatron height chart I made. If someone could get me a cold drink, I would love one, I have been working on this for the better part of a month. 26 separate designs, for one character, across 40 years of history. And I had to exclude a couple, the grand total is like 30 different ones. I left those four out because they were just pallet swaps of a design I already had; It felt redundant to include them.

This guy just can not decide if he's named Megatron or Galvatron sometimes, he just switches between the two names at random. I think in Unicron Trilogy, he switches to Galvatron multiple times, and yes, he does switch back to Megatron before every one.

My brain is kinda broken after finishing this. I worked on this one and the Optimus one at the same time (the optimus one is so much bigger holy shit-) and I've lost the ability to feel pain at this point.

Quick Disclaimer, if any of the images look weird, it's because I had to stitch a few separate images together to create a full body shot of the character.

Links to my Bumblebee Chart and my Optimus Chart. !!NEW!! -> Shockwave, Soundwave, Ratchet, and Ironhide. For future reference, all these charts will be filed under my "Transformers Height Charts" tag and my "aka the adventures of a..." tag. Hopefully, my bumblebee post is acting up and idk if the same issue will happen here.

Master Post

Explanations below the cut, I have to justify myself for a few of these.

G1 Beast Wars V1 - ~9 Feet (PMeg. TFWiki, he's so small. Dinosaur Man is so small)

G1 Beast Wars V2 - ~10 Feet (PMeg. TFWiki, This fucker has roller blades. I'm not fucking with you, they gave the T-Rex Roller Blades and he uses them)

G1 Beast Machines V1 - ~12 Feet (PMEG. The Wiki doesn't have any numbers for Beast machines, sadly, but I found an old forum post comparing the heights to the Beast Wars designs, so I win)

G1 Beast Wars V3/Machines V2 - ~13 Feet (PMEG. The TFWiki says this bitch is like 11.5 meters tall, but no, I've done the math, he is not. If he was, Rattrap, a character who is consistently stated to be 1.8 meters tall across multiple sources in multiple languages is actually not that tall. So no, he's about 2 and a bit Rattraps tall, and that translates to about 13 feet. And I'm pretty sure he reverts into this at some point in Beast machines, though correct me if I'm wrong)

G1 Beast Machines V3 - ~16 Feet (PMeg. This design is identical to the Optimal Optimus design so I'm gonna be lazy and use that number. Not like I have many other options.)

Beast Wars 2 - ~16 Feet (Galv. Idk, the wiki had the number and his name is Galvatron, was I supposed to ignore this? Never gonna watch it, but here it is)

Earth Spark - ~16 Feet 2 Inches (Mega. There are no actual numbers for Earth Spark (yet), but I was able to find Bumblebee's height, which I then compared to Optimus's height, and now I can compare Optimus and Megatron.

Yay!- he's so short it's so fucking funny tiny short man universe)

One V1 - ~17 Feet (Mega. I am aware, of the supposed "Canon Heights" listed on the wiki. 32.462 feet, allegedly. But, have you considered A: These numbers are sourced from the Walmart Promotional AR Experience that came out before the movie. B: There are three decimal points, and that number does not convert into a whole number in meters (which is originally what I thought was weird about it). C: The director has said that this movie is both canon to the LA movies and its own separate canon. AND ALSO Meg is taller than Optimus the entire movie but his height is listed as shorter than him on the wiki. They are the same height by the end of the movie, I call BULLSHIT Walmart; these are not actual numbers I will ignore them POST HASTE! Sadly, Megatron has yet to appear in the KCV live-action movies as I make this, but we know Meg and OP are the same height by the end of TFOne, so knock a couple of feet off this one, and we get pre-cog height)

Netflix Cybertron Trilogy - ~18 Feet (PMeg. Slightly confusing, but there are two Megatrons in this universe, but they are two completely separate characters. This is Predacon Megatron, design-wise identical to his V1 Beast Wars counterpart, but he is much taller in this universe. So I did some admittedly deranged comparisons to other characters and I got this height. It's a similar ratio to Prime & Primal's height difference so I'm running with it)

Gen 1 V2 - ~ 18 Feet 6 inches (Galv. So the Wiki failed me on this one, but- and maybe this is backwards thinking, the WFCT Galvatron is this height, at least comparing him to WFCT Megatron, who I've decided is the same height as Gen 1 Megatron, who we actually have a number for- I am aware it's convoluted but it's all I got)

Netflix Cybertron Trilogy - ~18 Feet 6 inches (Galv. Okay so, Galvatron and Megatron are entirely separate beings in this universe, which is a large departure from Gen 1 where they're effectively the same guy, which means I could compare their heights, and this is about the height Galvatron is. And I have decided that the WFCT Megatron is the same height as Gen 1 Megatron because they're nearly identical otherwise, making the assumption that the Galvatrons are the same easy. The amount of hoops I have to jump through sometimes...)

Gen 1 V1 - ~19 Feet (Mega. TFWiki. Hey look, it's the guy that's the foundation of like 5 other character's calculations)

Prime Wars - ~19 Feet (Mega. As I've said before, I have decided that this design is the same height as the Gen 1 design, because they're identical, yes one is 2d, and the other is 3d but I don't care)

Netflix Cybertron Trilogy - ~19 Feet (Mega. You already know what I'm going to say; it's identical to Gen 1. Just try and stop me)

Unicron Trilogy V2&3/ENG&CYB - ~19 Feet (Mega/Galv. He flip-flops so much in this universe, I think Megatron becomes Galvatron 3 separate times. For the uneducated, the Unicron Trilogy has given each of its 3 seasons separate names and 3 separate art styles. These are the designs used in Energon (S2) and Cybertron (S3). The Wiki had Cybertron's numbers but not Energon's, so for my own sanity, I decided the two were the same height. I could have done something in between Cybertron's and Armada's (S1) numbers, but there was a lot of float between the two)

One V2 - 19 Feet 10 Inches (Mega. As I have stated in the previous One entry: I don't trust Walmart, Meg and OP are the same height by the end of the movie, and the KCV LA and One are kinda one universe. Optimus is this height by the end of the movie, therefore so is Megatron. How many times do I have to explain this)

Cyberverse - 21 Feet (Oh sweet, sweet "I don't have to justify or explain my numbers, I have a source". This comes from a screen-shot of this video which has the Cyberverse height chart everyone uses, though the quality of the screen shot is iffy. If anyone has a better one, I would love to see it)

RID 2001 - ~22 Feet (Mega/Galv. TFWiki. Why are there so many Megatrons who become Galvtron at random and look functionally identical to each other why does this keep happening. Also this guy transforms into a hand)

Unicron Trilogy V1 - ~23 Feet (Mega/Galv. TFWiki. I am very tired, we have another functionally identical Megatron Galvatron conversion and I am in pain)

Bayverse V2 - 30 Feet (Mega/Galv. TFWiki, Movies 4 & 5. This time, they're actually identical, and Mr. Bay has once again blessed me with numbers from all of his movies)

Aligned Cont. WF/FOC - ~30 Feet (Mega. TFWiki. Look man, I don't know how he grows nearly five feet between the games and the shows, it's just what the video game info screen said)

Animated - ~31 Feet (Mega. Animated has no actual numbers, but the lovely @phoenix-inanis has provided a frankly astounding resource with their own calculations for the heights of all the TFA characters. Go look at it, it's wonderful -> https://phoenix-inanis.notion.site/TFA-Height-Chart-f6ad2960ca8c4c5b859ee4958723aaa4?pvs=4)

Aligned Cont. TFP V1 - 34 Feet 5 Inches (Mega. Yes, this is from Fandom. But, and I will continue to say this until my lungs give out, this entire universe is just fucking enormous. Look, I believe Bayverse is the most consistent tf universe when it comes to the transformers' models and designs, and if we do some comparisons between characters with similar listed heights (I did it at the end of this post), it's way too close for me not to believe it)

Bayverse V1 - 35 Feet (Mega. TFWiki, Movies 1-3. Look at this bitch, getting his secrets exposed by Mr. Bay. Look at him, he's going to shrink down in the forth movie, gonna get dumped down to 6th place on the podium. Get Shrunk, Idiot)

Aligned Cont. TFP PR V2 - 42 Feet 7 Inches (Mega. Look at this enormous bitch, look at the freak standing there, fuckin enormous n' shit. Wack ass Unicron- Did you know that this is probably the TALLEST base form transformer ever? Excluding any super modes or upgrades or a transforming Cybertronian Base/Spaceship, just default general body size, I'm pretty sure this Megatron is the tallest Regular transformer ever)

Not Pictured: RID 2001 Galvatron Pallet - ~22 Feet (the only thing that was different between the two designs was the colours, if felt redundant to include it), Unicron Trilogy Galvatron Pallet(s) - Armada: ~23 Feet, Energon/Cybertron: ~19 Feet (Again, just the colours changed, otherwise everything else was the same)

I have done it. I have conquered my Everest. I have finished the big two charts. If anyone has any suggestions for which transformer I should aggressively analyze next please tell me I don't know which ones to do next

Here are the different layers separated out into their own pictures, I know it's kinda hard to tell everyone apart when they're all on top of each other.