#his waist is slimmer than hers

[kxmpfflieger]

Had a thought that I wanted Pulse to meet Soundwave and Megatron before the war; so what if in her med student days she was actually a huge gladiatorial fighting nerd

[bbydoll18xx]

Plotting and Scheming

Paige Bueckers x reader

When UConn’s wbb team gets tired of Paige’s pining, they concoct a plan to get you into her arms.

Themes: Mutual pining, slight angst, fluff

Word count: 3.3k

I've gotten a lot of love on my other three little fics, so I hope this one is okay, as well. Let me know if you guys have anything specific you'd like me to write!

Here we go!

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You sat on the sidelines of UConn’s basketball court, admiring the girls fiercely practicing. It was still early in the season, but the dream of winning the NCAA championship kept their grit going.

Having met several of the girls on the team early in your college career, the women’s basketball team had adopted you as one of their own. As a nursing student, you were deemed ‘the fixer of boo-boos’ and you were often around to tend to their cuts and scrapes or to answer their ridiculous medical questions.

That’s where it had all started, and you couldn’t believe where you had ended up because of it.

Your eyes bounced back and forth, following the balls and the whipping ponytails. You always felt so much pride watching them; they were your girls.

Your gaze finds Paige, as it always tends to, and you are mesmerized. She runs, throwing the ball from half court and making it into the basket effortlessly. Without thinking, you stand up, whooping and clapping rambunctiously. She makes eye contact with you, sending you a wink and blowing you a kiss dramatically. Your stomach lurches at the display of affection towards you, and you blush, causing you to glance around making sure no one saw.

Your feelings for the tall blonde had only grown as you got to know her throughout the last several years. She made you feel giddy, like a child with a school crush. As much as you enjoyed being her friend, you had wanted something more for a long time now.

You’d never admit that though. To anyone.

The other girls had spent countless hours trying to get you to admit your feelings for Paige. You held firm, though, vehemently denying any pull or attraction. They would over analyze every interaction between the two of you, and they loved the way your cheeks would bloom with pink from Paige’s compliments and affections. 

In fact, they were absolutely sure that the reason you broke up with your douchebag ex-boyfriend, Zach, was because of your feelings for Paige.

They did not need to know that was actually the case, thank you very much.

It had been on the forefront of your thoughts for weeks before the night where everything had finally exploded. 

You had dragged Zach along to the bar where the basketball team was partying it up, hoping your man would distract you from the longingness you felt for your friend. You felt such a pull towards Paige, and it fucking terrified you. 

You had walked into the bar with Zach, his hand around your waist possessively. The touch reminded you of the last time you and Paige had gone out drinking together. Trying to ignore how you wished it was slimmer and more feminine, you had allowed Zach to lead you towards where the team had gathered in a circle. 

The girls cheered as they saw you approach, thrusting a drink into your hand, encouraging you to catch up to their drunkenness. You glanced around, trying to find Paige in the crowd. 

“Well look who it is,” you heard from behind you. Whipping your head around, you were met with the familiar smirk of your favorite blonde.

“Paige!” you exclaimed, running up to give her a hug, eliciting an eye roll from your boyfriend. You pretended you didn’t see it to keep the peace. You melted into Paige’s embrace, feeling more comfortable in the moment than you had in days.

“K, Bueckers, you can get your grimy hands off my fuckin’ girlfriend,” Zach had sniped, walking away. Pretending as if the man did not even exist, Paige had looked down at you with a wide grin. It was getting harder to overlook her effect on both you and your relationship. 

 The rudeness and nastiness directed at Paige had immediately sent you over the edge.

‘How fucking dare he talk to my girl like that,’ you had thought.

In a sudden fury, you stomped over to him, already busy staring lewdly at some girl who was dancing provocatively in front of him. 

“You can fuck off. Paige can put her hands on me any time she’d like. We’re through. Kiss my ass!” you spat. You spun on your heel and marched back towards the team feeling lighter than you had in months.

“Let's do shots!” you screamed, missing the fond look Paige was giving you.

You snap out of your daydream as you see Paige sauntering over to you where you sat in the bleachers.

“Enjoying the show, huh?” she questions smugly. 

Feeling generous, you nod with a genuine smile. “You guys are doing so great already. You’re gonna go far this season; I can feel it.” The candor of your words causes Paige to beam.

“Listen, we’re all getting drinks tonight at Ted’s. You gonna come with us?”

“Oh I don't know, I've got homework and stuff…” you trail off, trying to find a suitable excuse.

Paige all but pouts. “The girls really want you there. They all told me,” she says knowingly. As if she had planned it, Azzi, KK, and Nika walk over to join you two, all sweaty from practice. 

KK all but jumps on you, causing you to groan under the sudden weight of her body being thrown against you.

“Y’all, please convince this one over here to join us tonight,” Paige pleads, turning back toward you with wide eyes.

You giggle as the girls all jump in, interrupting each other in an attempt to persuade you to come out with them.

You cut them off, trying to stop the cacophony that was echoing off the walls of the gym. 

“I would love to come, but I really have a lot of work to catch up on,” you reason. “If I finish up early, I’ll text you, Paige.” 

Paige nods at this, but you don’t miss the glum look that flits across her face. You sigh half-heartedly, suddenly feeling guilty. You hated making excuses. It was just so hard sometimes, liking her.

“Have fun, guys,” you wave before making your exit from the arena.

As you walk back to your dorm, you feel the pit in your stomach grow larger, enveloping you. Of course you wanted to spend time with Paige, but pining mixed with alcohol and the sensual music of a bar would cause cracks in the hard foundation of your skillful indifference. 

You had been perfecting it since freshman year, but with the way Paige had you feeling lately, you knew it wouldn’t take much for everything to come crashing down.

Walking through your door and sitting at your computer, you get to work, trying to distract yourself. After reviewing your notes for the tenth time and finishing your nursing care plan, you glance at the clock.

Fuck.

It was only 10:30. The girls would probably just be arriving at the bar now, and you really wanted to go meet up with them. 

‘Screw it,” you think. You are going to get drunk tonight, and you’re gonna look hot. You whip out your phone and send a quick text to Paige. Your heart races as she instantly responds. You needed to get your shit in order. Your emotions could not get the best of you tonight.

Over at Ted’s, Paige’s bored expression had quickly turned into an excited grin, causing her teammates to exchange looks of interest.

“What’s got you smiling like that, P?” asks Nika.

“More like who,” smirks KK, glancing at Paige’s phone at your text.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” Paige grumbles, trying to hide her blush with her drink.

“Oh c’mon, Paige, this crush is getting ridiculous. Just tell the damn girl you like her,” Azzi demands. “We’re all getting tired of watching you pine over her.”

“Pine?” sputters Paige. “I’m hardly pining. If anything, I’m just admiring…” she trails off.

“Sure, P,” KK drawls sarcastically. “Nothing like admiring your friend’s ass.” 

The other girls snort derisively. KK was not at all off base with that observation.

“Whatever, I need another drink,” grumbles Paige. “Gotta be drunk when my friend shows up.”

Paige walks off, and the second her teammates lose sight of her, they circle up to discuss.

“Jesus, we really need to do something to fix this shit,” Ice says firmly. 

“For real, this is straight embarrassing now!” KK agrees loudly.

Azzi contemplates for a second, before a smirk slides onto her face. “I know what we can do. The only way to get Paige to make a move is to make her super jealous. We can all take turns flirting, and boom! We’ll have two happy lovebirds before we even know it!”

The ploy causes the other girls to laugh hysterically, reveling in the idea of a jealous Paige.

“Sounds perfect!” Nika laughs. “Paige is gonna hate us, but she will be fine once she finally admits her feelings.”

The rest of the girls agree, sipping their drinks and taking great pleasure in what would be coming. 

About an hour later, you walk into the bar feeling incredibly anxious. You were confident in the way you looked; tight jeans with rips that allowed the smooth flesh of your upper thigh to peak out, and a top that showed off your curves deliciously. Lips glossy and hair blown out, you were alluring, wanting all eyes on you tonight. You figured if you got hit on enough, you could distract yourself from Paige’s enticement. Little did you know it’d be at the hands of her own teammates.

You stretched your neck, scouring the bar for the basketball team. Considering their height, they were easy to spot. Flouncing over, you are greeted with the loud, drunken cheers of your favorite girls. 

You giggle at their enthusiasm, suddenly feeling more at ease. You look around, trying to spot the long blonde hair and the wide smile that constantly occupies your consciousness. 

“Where’s P?” you ask casually, trying to avoid any suspicion. This causes the faces of the aforementioned teammates to exchange sly glances that immediately have you worried.

“Oh, she's just over by the bar talking to some brunette,” Nika responds, attempting to gauge your reaction. Luckily, you had been training for this over the last several years.

Did it fucking hurt? Sure, it was like you were being stabbed repeatedly with a fucking knife, but no biggie. You could handle it.

“Cool,” you mumble, staying aloof. “I’m gonna grab a drink...”

Your reaction causes the girls to hoot with laughter once you’re out of reach.

“This is so mean. I feel bad,” mutters Caroline. “I thought we were only going to make Paige jealous…”

“It’s more fun this way. It’s like a secret mission!” KK exclaims. “Getting both of them jealous is fuckin’ perfect.”

As you walk over to the bar, you see Paige talking to a girl. She is smiling in a way that had your stomach doing somersaults, and your face screws up into a look of annoyance. Attempting to ignore the obnoxious giggles of the girl Paige was wooing, you flag down the bartender and order a double of your favorite drink. Lord knows you would need the extra alcohol tonight. 

You look around apprehensively, trying to move time forward with your brain. Your sobriety, in addition to the crammed bar, had you feeling panicked. You needed to get away from Paige before you combusted from jealousy.

Thanking the bartender, who finally slides your drink towards you, you head back to the basketball team, eventually catching Paige's attention.

Pretending you didn’t see your blonde best friend, you bring your straw to your lips in a seductive manner, catching it with your tongue and relishing in the way the alcohol begins to cloud your inhibitions. 

Paige trails behind you, desperately trying to avoid staring at your jean-clad ass.

KK doesn’t miss this. Neither does Ice. They share shit-eating grins, making mocking faces towards Paige, who flips them off in return, a look of embarrassment covering her face. 

You finally turn around, giving up your bit of pretend indifference. 

“Oh hey, P,” you say breezily. “Didn’t see you behind me.”

Before Paige could respond, Azzi is already wrapping her free hand around your waist, bringing her closer to you. She says, “I missed you. C’mon, let’s go dance.”

The blonde’s eyes narrow, but Azzi is already leading you towards the brightly colored dance floor before she could respond to you. 

“The fuck?” Paige mumbles under her breath as the rest of the team exchanges deranged giggles at her shock.

The truth was that Paige was terrible at sharing. Especially you. Even before she wanted anything more than a friendship with you, Paige slightly resented anyone who took away your time and attention from her. 

The signs were so clear. So fucking clear.

Half of the girls follow you to the dance floor, leaving the others to stay with a pouting Paige. Her reaction to Azzi’s contact gives you the tiniest amount of hope, and it gives you a second wind of confidence. 

You dance with the girls, slightly confused at their antics. You were close with all of them, but the touching and incessant compliments had your head spinning.

What the hell was going on? 

Paige was usually the one clinging to you, wanting to make you blush and giggle. Tonight she was acting like a wounded puppy. Her face continuously flashing between a clenched jaw of annoyance and straight bitterness. 

Your attempts to avoid looking at her were futile. This did not go unnoticed by the team, who looked like they were enjoying your longingness way too much. 

You look up at Azzi, begging her with your eyes to tell you what was going on with Paige tonight. 

“Why is she acting like this?” you ask no one in particular, just trying to deduce the weird energy that had accompanied the entire night. The girls shrug and avoid the question altogether, carrying on with their laughing and gyrating.

You sigh, exhausted from the game they were clearly playing. You needed more alcohol or it was going to be a rough night; you were too sober to deal with this. 

“C’mon, shake those hips,” an evidently very drunk Nika, whispers in your ear with a smirk. She brings a hand down to rest on your waist, the other trailing down your back…lower and lower. You look at her, slightly shocked at the affection. Before Nika’s hand could even reach your ass, you feel yourself being ripped away from her by a swearing Paige.

“What the actual fuck, dude?” Paige all but yells at her Croatian teammate, her eyes wild with anger and her jaw clenched with an impressive amount of control. 

Nika just laughs at Paige’s overreaction, along with every other girl on the team.

“What’s wrong, P?” Azzi asks with a mocking tone. “Pissed that someone other than you touched your girl?”

Paige’s voice falters as she responds, “she’s not my girl…just don’t want her to be uncomfortable or whatever…”

Hearing Azzi refer to you as Paige’s girl made your head spin. What the fuck does that mean?

Your head quickly bounces between a smirking Nika, an uncomfortable-looking Paige, and the rest of the team, who were trying and failing, to hold in their laughter.

“I’m confused…” you trail off in a quiet attempt to get some answers.

A few seconds of silence pass before KK breaks it. “Girl boo, just talk to Paige. And use protection.”

Excuse me, what?

The girls vacate the area, leaving you and the blonde staring at each other, both afraid to make the first move.

“Let’s walk back to my apartment. We can talk there,” Paige finally mutters. 

You let out a breath you didn't even realize you were holding. Things felt vulnerable. Like one wrong move and everything would come crashing down into oblivion. You didn't want your relationship with Paige to be ruined; your one-sided crush already disrupting the delicate balance of it all.

The ten minute walk back to Paige’s felt like years. The air was heavy, constricting your entire being. You held back a sob as the dread seeped into your soul. You couldn’t let Paige see you cry; it was embarrassing enough knowing that she probably already knew of your feelings.

You would get through this. Just let her let you down easy and then you could escape.

As you mentally plan the funeral for your friendship, Paige reaches for your hand, cold from the bitter chill of the night. Your reflexes are quick, wanting to rip it away from her in an attempt to guard the tiniest bit of pride left in you, but you still. 

Nevertheless, you wanted her. And even worse, you needed her. So you allow her to gently take your hand, interlacing your fingers and rubbing a thumb over the smooth skin soothingly. 

It felt so intimate, and the tears in your eyes threatened to spill over your cheeks once more. You glance up, feeling relief as you spot the parking lot of the apartment building. 

As you enter Paige’s room, you look around, trying to memorize everything that made up your friend. ‘This’ll probably be the last time I’ll be here,’ you think solemnly, gazing at the purple comforter thrown haphazardly over the unmade bed. No more giddy nights spent pressed against the blonde, praying she can’t feel the thumping of your heart as she cuddles you.

You sit on the bed warily, readying yourself for the rejection from your most favorite person in the entire world. 

Paige can tell you’re anxious. You unconsciously pick at your fingernails, and your bottom lip is already swollen from being habitually bitten.

She sits beside you, placing a hand over yours again, as if she thinks it belongs there for some reason. In your version of the story, it did. Everything that was yours belonged to Paige.

“I have to tell you something. And I'm really not sure how you’ll react…” Paige trails off, hesitant of how to approach the situation. She clears her throat and continues, “I have feelings for you. I know you probably don’t feel the same, but it’s fine. And the girls knew tonight and were messin’ with me. They thought if they made me jealous enough, I’d do somethin’ about my feelings. And I guess they were kinda right.”

Upon hearing the long winded confession, your ears start ringing and your heart feels as if it might actually combust. 

She has feelings for you? 

You pinch your thigh, slightly wincing at the pain before your face slides into an elated grin. This was actually real.

She has feelings for you. 

Paige searches your face for some sort of guess on how you were reacting to her maundering. With the alcohol still in your system and the shock of her words still reverberating through you, you could do nothing except launch yourself at her gorgeous mouth.

She squeals, momentarily caught off guard by your sudden movement before realizing that the pining she had been doing the last several years was in fact mutual.

Your lips collide, fuckin’ finally, in a kiss that could only be described as heavenly. It was passionate and slow, deliberately savoring the feel and taste of what had been only daydreams for a very long time. 

Ultimately needing to break away for some air, you gaze at each other, reveling in the idea that the pain and heartbreak of years of pining and jealousy was no longer. It was peaceful. It made sense to you, though. Paige was your peace, and you were hers.

Laying down together, you whisper fondly, “I love your teammates so much. Even if their methods are a bit crazy, they really do mean well.”

Paige chuckles in reply. “We are so getting them back for that little stunt, though, right?”

“Of course,” you hum. “Two can play at that game.”

[chilling-seavey]

Blue Moon Motel (gr63)

↳ A/N I can't thank you all enough for your lovely words on my first piece of George writing I posted here. Your welcome into the F1 side of Tumblr has been so incredibly kind. Please take this heartbreaking story as my thank you <3

↳ Inspired By Blue Moon Motel by Nicole Dollanganger

↳ Summary: George has decided that his affair with you needs to end but he takes you out for one last night before saying goodbye.

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

↳ Word Count: 8.0k

↳ Warnings: 18+, smut, cheating (George is having an ongoing affair with the reader, gf is unnamed), use of explicit language, fucking without feelings (or so they think), oral (f receiving), choking, spanking, some biting, hair pulling, use of derogatory names (slut etc.), unprotected sex

G: Booked a hotel room tonight. You free? 

Your favourite kind of text. You knew well what he was asking for and you lifted your phone from your desk to answer;

-Always free for you and I wanted to talk to you about something anyway. Time and place?

G: I need to talk to you too...and I need to fuck you. 7pm. Blue Moon Motel. I’ll wait for you in the lobby? 

-Sounds good. See you then ;)

It wasn’t uncommon for George to book rooms when he needed you and couldn’t get the house to himself. He always booked mid-range where the rooms were nice but the place wasn’t expensive, something located farther out of Monaco and towards Menton in the south of France so chances of getting caught by paparazzi was slimmer. He couldn’t take any chances when you weren’t his girlfriend. The world didn’t know her yet but she didn’t know you and that would have been the main issue if he was caught by the press sneaking you into a five star hotel. 

Regardless, you dressed in your best lingerie and a short dress overtop before calling a cab to the motel. It was a hot day in the south of France and the evening didn’t do much to lessen the humidity, the moment you stepped out of the cab you felt your skin flush under the heat. George was waiting in the lobby as promised, identity hidden behind sunglasses and a casual outfit, and he stood up when he saw you. He glanced around as you approached each other to make sure no one was paying much attention before leaning in to kiss you quickly. 

“You look great.” he complimented quietly before taking your hand. 

“So do you.” you smiled softly, letting him lead you towards the elevators as he tucked his sunglasses in the collar of his shirt. 

George seemed more nervous than normal and you watched as he eyed the numbers on the elevator ticking up to your floor, his hand still snug in yours and his weight shifting from side to side ever so slightly. 

“What’s up?” you asked, tugging on his hand to bring his attention to you. 

He glanced at you with surprised blue eyes but shrugged as the elevator doors slid open, “Nothing.” 

“You said you wanted to talk about something in your text.” you stated as he pulled you down the hallway to the room. 

George stopped outside a door and swiped the key before glancing back at you, “Fucking first. Talking after.”

You couldn’t get a rebuttal out before he was sweeping you right off your feet and into his arms like a bride. You shrieked in surprise but tossed your arms around his shoulders and kissed his jaw through your excited giggles as he carried you into the hotel room.

“What a gentleman.” you whispered against his cheek. 

“Only the best for you.” George gushed, finding your lips with his as he kicked the door closed behind the two of you.

He gently let you slip from his arms onto the ground of the small hotel room foyer, your feet landing silently on the carpet as your lips lingered on each others and you swallowed him up in your arms. George’s arms slid around your waist and pulled you impossibly closer by your waist until you were pressed flush up against him. You could feel the bulge in his jeans against your body and you tangled your hand in the back of his hair to pull his lips off of yours for a moment. His eyes lingered on yours, pupils already dilated and soft breaths falling from pink lips. The way he looked at you could make your knees weak and you scratched your fingers through the back of his hair for a moment. 

“Have you been hard all day?”

George groaned lightly at your bluntness, licking his lips as he stared at you, “Most of the day.” 

“And thinking of me?”

“Yeah.” George bit back a little smirk, his hands sliding from your hips to your ass and he grabbed two snug handfuls. 

You brushed your nose against his and let your lips connect again, lingering there a moment before you both inhaled sharply and tilted your heads to turn it deeper. His fingers inched up the hem of your short dress as his lips distracted themselves with yours and when your dress was up around your waist, he slapped his hand down hard against your bare ass.

You tugged at his hair to strengthen your kiss and his tongue swiped over your bottom lip, shooting shivers down your spine. You opened up for him and his tongue pushed its way into your mouth as he backed you up against the doorway to the bathroom. Your hands dragged down his chest and worked to blindly unbutton his shirt quickly as he slid a hand between your legs. His fingers made you shiver under his touch, gasping out of your kiss as his lips moved down your neck and his fingers drew slow stripes over your panties. 

“Have you been wet all day?” George taunted against your ear, pushing your question back at you. 

“Just about.” you laughed lightly, dragging your hands down his abs. 

“Wanna shower with me?” he asked, his eyes focusing on your lips in your close proximity, sliding his hands around your waist to pull you right up against his jeans. 

Your hands teased the hem of his pants, “Of course.”

George shrugged off his shirt and tossed it to the floor before his hand found its way around your throat and pulled your mouth back onto his. Your hands memorized his body, over his shoulders and arms and bare chest, finally returning to his jeans to pop the button and slide your hand down the front. 

George moaned into your kiss, moulding his tongue against yours as he kept you pressed up against the doorframe and you palmed him strongly down his pants. His hands shimmied up your dress and lifted it over your head to drop to the floor before returning your mouth to his hungry kisses. The quiet hotel room filled with the sound of your sloppy kisses and you grabbed him by the back of his neck and pulled him after you into the bathroom. 

George’s large hands soaked up your body in the black lace, lingering at your chest before sliding over your hips and ass, breathing into your mouth, “Christ, you’re so fucking sexy.”

You bit at his bottom lip, urging a moan from him while you shoved his jeans down his legs and he kicked his shoes off and then his jeans followed, tossed back out into the hotel room foyer. Your kisses were turning feverous, desperation growing as clothes were stripped and passion increasing with the fiery touch of hands on skin. George’s lips moved down your neck and his right hand pushed down the front of your underwear. It was only then that you noticed the bracelet missing from his wrist. The bracelet that matched his girlfriend’s. 

“Where’s your bracelet?” you asked quietly, watching him kiss at your neck through the mirror. 

His fingers kept up slow stripes over your cunt as his face lifted from your neck and his eyes found yours, “I’m yours tonight. No one else’s.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you pulled his lips back on yours with a feverous desire that made him chuckle lightly. His fingers worked a bit faster between your legs, finally rubbing lazily at your clit until you were grinding onto his hand. 

“I need you.” you breathed into his mouth, pulling lightly at his hair to keep his lips on yours. “Please, sir.” 

A soft groan came from George’s throat and he yanked your panties down your thighs. 

“Strip.” he ordered. 

You did as told while he turned on the shower and set it to a comfortable temperature, turning back to you only to find you naked and waiting. Your hands were on your chest, tweaking at your hardening nipples, and George smacked your hands away. 

“Lemmy see your pretty tits.” 

You bit your lip at his vulgarity, always liking to see how filthy his usual polite and gentlemanly demeanor could turn. His hands were on you in an instant, forcing you to lean back against the bathroom counter as his mouth found your left breast first, tonguing at your nipple before sucking at it for a moment and doing the same to the opposite one. The tent in his boxers was massive and you played with the thick shape of his dick through the fabric ever so gently as he licked back up your neck and nipped at your earlobe. 

“Feel how fucking hard you make me, baby?” George whispered. “Just need to fuck you so bad.” 

“So do it.” you taunted. 

“In the shower, pretty little whore. Gonna show you what I’ve been thinking about all day.”

He left you with a spank as you slunk past him and helped yourself to the warm shower. You held your head back under the stream of water and soaked yourself up as George watched for a moment from in front of the counter. He dropped his underwear and you gave him a little show as he stroked himself off a little, his eyes lingering on the water cascading down your bare body and over every curve. You let your hands trail your figure until he was stepping in behind you and taking your place. 

“Little slut…putting on a show for me, huh?” George breathed against your ear as his hands rubbed over your hips. You could feel his dick pressed up against your ass and you pushed back on him impatiently. 

He adjusted the stream of water, soaking both of you, before shifting it to the side again and ran a hand over his wet hair. He bent you forward and you set your hands flat against the tile wall, ass out and back slightly arched, and he slapped his hand down against your flesh. You gasped lightly, the water on your skin only increasing the sound of his spanks as he did it again. 

“Fuck me.” you choked out. “Please just fuck me, sir.” 

George shuffled up behind you and you spread your feet slightly to give him room to tuck himself between your legs. The feeling of his dick grazing over your folds had you fluttering and he could feel it, his hand sliding up your spine to tangle in your hair as his other slowly pushed himself inside you. 

Your mouth dropped open as the stretch, easing back on him so he bottomed out quicker, and your eyes fell shut as he filled you completely. George groaned lowly, gripping your wet hair in one hand and your hip in the other, focusing on the limited space between you and how he fit inside you so perfectly. 

He stayed still for a moment as if to compose himself but you started fucking yourself back onto him, rocking forward and back in messy motions to get him going, only making yourself moan desperately. 

George slapped his hand down against your ass, “Yeah. That’s my girl.”

His praise made you flush pink and you groaned excitedly as he yanked at your hair and shoved right into you. You gasped, grabbing onto the shower wall the best you could as he started thrusting into you, giving you everything before pulling out almost all the way and then moving back in. 

“Oh my God.” you breathed, “Shit...you’re so fucking big-”

“Yeah?” George chuckled against your neck, keeping up his strong steady thrusts, “Where do you feel me?”

“So deep.” you groaned softly. 

“Yeah?” George tightened his grip in your hair and picked up speed, shoving into you a bit faster. 

“Oh God.” you cried, hands streaking down the shower wall as he fucked you harder and you couldn’t help but push back on him in time with his motions. 

“Good girl.” George spanked you again before grabbing a handful of your ass and made sure you were pulled open so he could fit in as deep as he could go. The warm water only increased the sound of his skin slapping against yours, his hands holding you in place so he could fuck you how he wanted and you shoved back on him each time. “God, you’re such a fucking slut.” 

“George-” you cried out as he slid his hand around the front of your neck and then really started going to town, shoving into you roughly until you were falling silent. 

“Good girl.” he growled against your ear. “Take it. Fucking take it.” 

You squealed softly, hands squeaking against the tile wall in your desperate attempt to keep yourself steady, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah-” 

His fingers pushed their way into your mouth to keep you quiet and you moaned around them, eyes falling shut as he had his way with you and was nearly choking you with his two fingers. But he slowed down almost just as quickly, making you whine around his fingers as he went back to strong deep thrusts that pushed you to slump forward against the shower wall again. His hand slid down your neck and grabbed your breast in his palm before finding your hip. 

“I love this fucking pussy.” George breathed, bending over you to kiss between your shoulder blades as he thrusted into you slowly but strongly, guiding your hips with his hands. His eyes dropped between you to watch as he pushed inside you and rolled your hips back onto him each time, creating a perfect rhythm with your wet bodies. He gripped the flesh of your hip so tightly you were sure he was going to leave bruises, fingers pressing into your skin as he tugged you back on his dick again and again. 

He stretched you out so well and it always managed to take your breath away no matter how many times you had snuck off together. The warm water only added to the sensations, slicking you up so as he sped up the small hotel bathroom was filling with the steady slap of his skin on yours. Faster, faster, faster, George’s hands gripped tighter to your waist and you could only bend over more for him, slumping against the wall as he shoved deep inside you again and again until all you could do was take it. 

“Please.” you sobbed, “Please don’t stop!” 

“You wanna cum, baby girl?” George breathed, his words almost muffled by the shower and the wet clapping of his skin on yours. 

“Yessir.” you whimpered.  

“Yeah?” he taunted through his teeth, “You think you deserve to cum? Beg.”

“Please, please, please make me cum.” you cried, tears brimming in your eyes at the overwhelm. 

His left hand gathered your wrists under his grasp and pinned your hands to the shower wall as his right kept you close so he could keep pounding into you. The restraint of it all had you whining loudly, head tilting back until the stream from the shower hit your chest and he spanked you hard. 

“Please, sir!” you nearly shrieked, feeling your stomach ache with need. “Please, I wanna cum for you!”

“You’re gonna cum when I tell you.” George ordered. 

“Yeah.” you whined in tired agreement, already starting to feel your muscles clenching around him in desperation. 

“Good girl.” George fucked into you harder, letting his teeth find your shoulder as he chased his orgasm and his hand that had been holding yours against the wall found your hair again and gave it a good yank. 

You cried out, welcoming his lips on your neck as he groaned against your flushed skin and your legs were starting to tremble. You bit down on your bottom lip, fucking yourself back on him as you tried to hold yourself back the best you could until he gave you permission. It was one of the things he liked best about you; you always listened. It's what you were there for, after all; to give him what he wanted.

“Ready, baby girl?” George whispered against your ear. “Cum with me.”

“Yes. Come inside me.” you begged shakily, desperate to finish him off, “Please, sir. Please, I want it.” 

“That’s my girl. Listen to you fucking beg. Ready?” George panted as he let go of your hair and gripped your hips and fucked you harder and rougher as his groans moulded into pitchy moans and you could feel him twitching inside you. “Now. Cum.”

In seconds, with one more rough tug of your body back onto him, he came deep inside you, grunting lowly against your skin and digging his nails down into your flesh. 

“Oh God…” you whined breathily, squealing in overwhelm as you came with him, vision blurring around the edges as he shot pleasure through every nerve in your body. You could only sob out a few more “yeses” through it, pulsing down around him as he gave you a few lazy thrusts through his heavy breaths and small groans. 

He kept his hands on your hips as he pulled out slowly, watching the thick white cream drip filthily out of you and onto the shower floor to be washed away by the water. He smacked his hand down on your ass before sliding a hand between your legs to finger the rest of his cum back inside you, making sure to graze his thumb over your clit to make you flinch. 

“That’s my good girl.” George praised, his voice drowned out by the water but he gently pulled you from the wall so your back was pressed up to his chest. He rested your head back against his shoulder so he could look at your face as your wet chest heaved with breathlessness. 

Your eyes lingered on his features, how the water cascaded down his cheeks and soaked his hair over his forehead…you could have stayed there forever with his arms around your waist and his body pressed up to yours. His lips found your jaw and left a soft kiss there before focusing back on your face and let a little smirk tug at his mouth. 

“Your makeup is ruined.” he whispered. 

“Mm…whose fault is that?” you laughed lightly. 

“Yours. For begging for it.” George teased. 

He slid his hands into yours and you laced your fingers together, letting the water run over the both of you for a moment as he held you against his chest and left kisses over your neck. After a moment he turned you around to face him and he wiped the streaked mascara from your cheeks and under your eyes and brushed your wet hair from your face. You couldn’t help but notice how his eyes lingered on you, taking in your face and your body like you were unfamiliar to him, his large hands not leaving your skin for long if at all. 

“We can’t see each other anymore.” 

The words he spoke were gentle in tone but felt like they were physically stabbed right through your lungs. Your eyebrows furrowed a moment as you stared at him and his downcast gaze, your hands resting haphazardly against his chest. 

“What?” you breathed out. 

George sighed and reached behind you to turn off the shower and he grabbed a towel from the rack to wrap around your shoulders before he explained himself, “I just…don’t think that this is fair to anyone anymore.” 

“It was never fair to anyone...George...what-” you took a moment to try and gather your thoughts, “What is making you say this? Does she know about us?”

“No. No, she doesn’t.”

“Then what?” you shivered slightly under his hazy gaze and the water that was drying over your bare skin. He didn’t answer for a moment so you added a, “Huh?”

“Baby,” George sighed, reaching to rub the towel over your arms to warm you up.

“Don’t ‘baby’ me.” you spoke softly, voice quivering, as you stepped out of the shower and onto the bathmat over the floor. 

George followed and you glanced at his reflection through the mirror as you dried yourself off and gave a few extra swipes between your legs, mopping up the warm cum that was still slowly dripping out of you. George trailed his hand down your spine as he grabbed a second towel for himself, “I really like being with you.”

You didn’t answer him, simply dried yourself off beside him in silence. 

“I just…we can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep this a secret any longer…not with Alex and Lando and whoever else knowing now…and we’re getting far too risky…” 

You wrapped the towel around your body and faced him with a flat expression, “So what the fuck is this? This hotel room? Fucking me raw in the shower?”

“I wanted to make our last night special.” George shrugged, tracing your collarbones with his hand. The hand that was missing the bracelet. “Because I know you have feelings for-“

“Stop. Don’t.” you cut him off. “Don’t say that shit.” 

George stayed quiet for a moment. 

So did you. 

“Let me give you one night.” he finally whispered. “One night where I’m yours. Only yours. I don’t want to end like this…in an argument…we deserve better after these last few months.” 

You just stared to the side, trying to keep the tears from spilling; not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was breaking your heart. 

George’s hand slid up the side of your neck and took your chin in his grasp to turn you to face him. “Look at me.” he spoke gently. 

You slowly raised your eyes to his. He was standing so closely you could almost feel his warm breath on your cheek and his lashes brushed over your cheek. His lips ghosted yours and you habitually let yours linger on his in a feather soft hesitant kiss. The hotel room was silent as his lips shifted smoother onto yours, capturing them in an ever so gentle kiss that made butterflies flutter in your stomach. George’s hand on your chin guided you through another faint kiss as if testing the waters and you couldn’t help but give into him. You always gave into him. 

Your hands slid up his bare chest and around his shoulders, welcoming his slow passionate kisses as his tongue found its way into your mouth. George moved slowly, grabbing the towel that was wrapped around you and pulled it from your body and onto the floor. With his hands on your bare skin, the fire of his touch was back in full force and you couldn’t help but shuffle closer to him. 

George nipped teasingly at your bottom lip between kisses as his large hands slid down your back and to your ass and finally to your thighs. He crouched down just enough to lift you right up off the ground and into his arms all without breaking your deep kisses. Your legs wrapped around his waist with ease, tangling your fingers in the back of his hair to keep his lips on yours, and he carried you out of the bathroom and over to the king size bed. 

Freshly showered and skin still pink from the hot water and the warm up you had, George knelt up on the end of the bed and then leaned forward to gently lay you down on the mattress, following right after you to keep his lips on yours. His hands shuffled under the back of your head and he fanned out your damp hair over the pillows as his lips moved down your neck. His touch alone was electrifying and he cradled the back of your neck as his lips left open mouthed kisses over your warm skin. His hands followed his lips, trailing down your shoulders and collarbones and down to your chest, kissing and groping and licking at your flesh until your breathing was starting to fall heavy. 

“Your tits look so fucking pretty tonight, baby.” George breathed, nearly nuzzling himself between them as his hands worked them gently. Your soft gasp when his thumb grazed your nipple had him smirking and he sucked over one and then the other, teasing them with his teeth until they were nice and hard and your hand was finding its way into his damp hair. “God, you’re gorgeous.” 

You sighed shakily as he continued down your body, kissing wetly down to your bellybutton and over your hips, slowing tauntingly as his hands spread your legs for him. You watched him carefully as he situated himself between your legs and linked his arms under your thighs, letting a thick string of drool fall from his lips and onto your folds. George’s tongue followed it, brushing ever so gently over your body but still made you flinch and grab his hair. 

He pulled back, soaking up how you looked spread for him, pussy still wet from his prior attack on your body and the faint signs of bruising over your hips had him biting back a smirk. He trailed a finger down over your folds, watching your wetness cling to his finger and he spread you open to see the traces of white left behind inside you and slowly dripping out still. George groaned lowly and kept you spread between two fingers so he could slip his tongue inside you teasingly. You gasped lightly but he pulled back just as quickly, kissing over your cunt until you were starting to grind up against his face, desperate for his touch. 

Whimpering quietly, you kept one hand tangled in his hair and rolled your hips against his face and he just opened up wider for you, giving you sloppy open mouthed kisses with just enough tongue to have you quivering with desire. 

“Please, sir.” you whimpered ever so quietly, staring down at him with a pretty pout that made him shutter. 

He hummed, sliding his tongue up between your legs before pushing it inside you slowly. 

“Yeah.” you breathed out, letting your body focus on him and nothing but the pleasure he so easily could give you. 

George fucked you slowly with his tongue, lapping up your arousal and his own cum that was still left over from your hookup in the shower. He did so without hesitation, moaning softly against your skin as he nuzzled his face deeper between your thighs and ate you out like heaven. He worked slowly, licking and slurping and savouring each and every part of you until your head was falling back against the pillows with bliss. 

The hotel room was perfectly silent, almost eerily silent, except for the faint sound of traffic outside behind your heavy breaths and his wet tongue. George kept his eyes on you, keeping your lips spread so his tongue could have easy access and he dragged it up and down your folds slowly and then faster and faster to make you squirm. 

“Sir-“ you shuttered, grinding up against his face some more. “Please-“

His hands kept you in place by your thigh and your lower stomach, holding you down on the mattress as he had you as he pleased. Usually your hookups were rushed and quiet and often mostly about him - your purpose after all was to give him the sexual pleasure she couldn’t - but this time, he took his time with you, reaching every single nerve in your body without even touching your clit yet. You felt on fire, breathless, blissful, and hungry for more of him. You couldn’t think about the fact that this was your last time when he could so easily melt you down with a flick of his tongue. 

George’s large hands moved to your thighs and pushed you open wider, feet flat on the bed and legs parted nice and far to keep you spread wide for him. 

“Look at this gorgeous fucking pussy.” George breathed, leaving taunting kisses over your inner thighs before brushing his nose ever so gently against your cunt. “You’re so fucking wet, baby. Who did this to you?”

“Always you, sir.” you whispered, massaging your one hand through his damp hair. 

He chuckled against you, the vibrations felt right up against your body and you inhaled sharply, especially as he finally dragged his tongue over your clit. You whimpered loudly, scrunching your eyes closed. 

“Good girl. Feel it.” 

His tongue dragged in slow stripes over your clit, just enough to make you squirm, rutting up against his face again. Your whimpers turned him on like you wouldn’t believe and he groaned against you as his tongue lapped at your wetness and he shook his head deeper to make a mess of it all. 

“Oh God-“ you breathed to the ceiling. 

His right hand slid up your body, right between your breasts, and finally to your mouth and he pushed two fingers past your lips. You sucked on them gladly as his tongue worked between your legs in slow gentle motions that made you drip. 

“Say my name.” George ordered, his voice deep against your wet flesh. 

“Sir-“

“No, baby. Say my name.”

Butterflies filled your body as his fingers pulled from your mouth with perfect wet suction and you let your lips bless the name you craved, “George.”

“That’s it.”

He was breaking all the rules. 

“Want you to moan my name tonight, baby.”

He was breaking the rules that he put in place. The rules that kept that strong divider between your physical relationship from being anywhere near romantic. 

George slid his wet fingers down your folds and pushed one inside you, groaning as he watched your head fall back against the bed and your chest rose with a shaky inhale. 

“That’s my girl.” he praised, fucking you slowly with his middle finger as his tongue teased your clit. “Just feel it.”

You hummed softly, one hand still gripping his hair as your other reached behind you to fist the pillow. You let your eyes close, forcing yourself to feel it; each of his slow pumps of his finger and the sensations of his tongue edging you on. He added a second finger, making you gasp shakily and you bit down on your bottom lip through it. 

“You don’t need to be quiet, sweetheart.” he whispered. “I want to hear you.”

He curled his fingers up, grazing your g-spot with ease, and you whimpered out his name, “Oh...George-”

“Good girl.” he praised, eyes staring up at you as he found a steady pace, flicking his fingers faster deep inside you as he tongued at your clit. 

“Oh my God.” you whined, squirming under his control. 

George’s free hand held you down by your hip, massaging over your flesh as he worked you closer, keeping his consistent pace even when your legs started to tremble. It wasn’t taking him long to get you there between the skill he housed and the fact that he had already had you once that night.

“George.” you whimpered. “George. George. George- fuck-”

He couldn’t get enough of the sound of his name when it was moaned by you, falling from your parted lips like heaven. There was nothing you wanted more than him...then to have him...to moan his name to the ceiling for the rest of time. It was overwhelming - he was overwhelming - and you pulled at his damp hair as you felt your stomach tighten, squealing quietly through the hotel room as he worked you right up to orgasm. 

But then he stopped. And pulled his fingers out. And left you pulsing with need to finish. 

You could only whimper out a “No” as he sat back from you.

George shushed you sweetly, pushing your legs back against your chest as he shuffled closer on his knees, “I got you. I’ll let you cum, baby. Just need to fuck you first.” 

He leaned over you and you let your legs link over his arms, staring at his pretty face as he licked three fingers and slid them down your body. He slicked them up your dripping cunt, smearing your arousal and his spit some more before guiding the tip of his dick between your lips. 

“Shit, I can feel your fucking heartbeat, baby girl.” George chuckled slowly, sliding the shaft of his dick up between your folds to slick himself up. 

You held onto his biceps, staring wide-eyed up at his face with your lip in anticipation between your teeth as he teased you with gentle touches. He was so hard and it only made you wetter by the second, breathing out a pleading, “Please” just before he gave you what you wanted and slowly slipped inside you. 

His dark eyes stared down at you as your mouth fell open in time with him and he stretched you out so nicely it always felt like your first time. Your nails dug lightly into his biceps and he set his hands on either side of your head as he bottomed out with a small groan. With how folded in half you were, he had to push down into you almost, situating himself on top of you until he was flush up against you and so deep you swore you could feel him in every nerve in your body. You shuttered. 

“Good?” he asked quietly. 

You nodded. 

George leaned down to kiss you, sharing soft closed mouthed kisses as he got started; pulling back and pushing into you in lazy thrusts. You hummed shakily, already having been so close that this was only bringing your orgasm closer. His eyes were locked on yours, his large hands gripping the sheets on either side of you as he found a good pace, giving you quick curling thrusts nice and deep. 

“G-George-” you moaned shakily, his name just tumbling from your lips without thought, eyes staring right up into his. 

“That’s my girl.” he praised softly. “I want you to feel it.”

You whimpered softly, moving your hands from his arms to the backs of your thighs to hold your legs back farther, eyes finding the limited space between you to watch him thrust into you. You couldn’t hold back the habitual moan that the sight forced from your chest, listening to how wet you were as he fucked into you with filthy sounds of his thighs against your skin. George leaned down closer, biting at your bottom lip messily behind your shared heavy breathing and his passionate thrusts and you opened up to let your lips lock with his in sloppy kisses. 

Your nails dragged over his hips, trying to follow his motions to savour it if at all, moaning and whining into his mouth. George broke your kiss as he grabbed your left leg and pushed it out, spreading you wider with his fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh and he picked up speed, fucking into you quicker to make you shriek. 

“Geo-rge- fuck!” you gasped shakily, tossing your head back against the bed.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl.” George praised lowly, really pulling back to shove into you strongly again and again as he pulled your right leg up to his shoulder.

He used the spring of the mattress to his advantage, shoving you down by your thigh just enough for you to be pushed back into each quick thrust. You were falling breathless, gasping and moaning under him as your fingers twisted in the sheets above your head. 

“Oh my God, oh my God!” 

“Watch.” George ordered breathlessly, grabbing a handful of your damp hair to raise your head up and you stared down your body as he fucked you into the white sheets. 

“Baby.” you whimpered, toes curling in the air as he had you as he wanted you. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Yeah?” His hand moved from your hair to your throat, squeezing his fingers around it until you were whimpering and your eyes were nearly rolling back. 

“George-” you cried shakily, clawing at his shoulders to try and cling onto him, feeling your whole body tingling with pleasure. “Holy...fuck…”

“That’s it. That’s my good girl.” he praised tauntingly. 

You couldn’t help but let your mind whirl at his words. He had never been soft and possessive with you. His girl? You could have melted. It was easy to get caught up in it, his warm hands and pretty face and eyes that seemed to look at you like you were everything he ever wanted. But maybe that was just the bliss that coursed through his veins with him balls deep inside you until all you could think about was him. All you could ever think about was him. 

He made you cum in seconds. He knew your body too well, even if you were only together for his physical gain. His hand around your throat squeezed you just enough for your cheeks to redden and his fingers pressed bruises into your thighs as he held your shuttering body down against the bed. 

You knew perfectly well he liked it loud and honestly you couldn’t help it anyway as your head tossed back against the bed and you cried and moaned his name to the ceiling until it nearly echoed off the walls. You knew better than to leave marks on him so you could only tug at his messy brown hair still damp from the shower, hearing him groan intoxicatingly above you as your body pulsed and squeezed around him. 

The moment you managed to barely take a breath, he was pulling out of you and grabbing your arm to flip you over onto your stomach. 

“George-”

He slapped your ass hard and then shoved back inside you. 

The action had you groaning loudly, clutching the sheets in your fists, “George-”

“Take it.” he ordered. “I know you can take more.”

He leaned right down over you with his forearms on either side of your body and started bucking into you quickly, forcing a shaky groan from your throat as your eyes fluttered shut. He was breathing hard against your ear, panting and grunting softly as the bed creaked underneath him with how rough he was taking it. Flat down against the bed, your eyes were nearly rolling back, fisting the sheets in your hands as your sensitive body welcomed him all. 

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” George growled against your ear. 

“Uh huh.” you nodded quickly as his fingers found their way into your mouth. 

“Yeah, you’re fucking mine.” George licked up your neck, shooting shivers down your spine and he sunk his teeth down into your flesh where your neck met your shoulder. 

He kept his fingers in your mouth, his other hand gripping tightly to the sheets beside you, smothering his moans into your neck, as he fucked you harder until you were crying out. You felt completely on fire, tugging at the sheets and drooling around his two fingers in your mouth as his body made perfect filthy music with yours. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby, I’m gonna fucking cum.” George breathed against your ear. 

“Please.” you whined. 

“You want it?” George chuckled darkly, pulling his fingers from your mouth to grab a fistful of your hair and yanked on it just enough to make you shriek, “Where do you want it?” 

“I-Inside me.” you begged. “Cum inside me...one last time, George. Please.” 

George’s jaw clenched and he groaned against your cheek, fucking into you rougher until the headboard was nearly hitting the wall. 

“Oh my God!” you squealed, yanking at the sheets as you felt your third high of the night approaching. “Don’t stop, don’t stop! Please, please, please-“

“Jesus Christ, baby.” George hissed, “Almost there. Shit.”

He slid his hand around the front of your neck, pulling your chest off the bed to find your lips with his as he finished you both off. You tried to focus, tried to engrain the feeling of his hands on you and his breath against your skin and his deep moans against your ear; tried to remember how he made you feel lightheaded when you came, how he felt around your clenching muscles as he twitched and came inside you, how it felt to be finished and filled by him until he was sighing shakily into your neck. 

There was a momentary silence. The hotel room was perfectly silent except for your heavy breathing. 

George dusted a kiss over your neck and moved his hand from your throat and carefully pulled out of you. He helped you onto your back, making sure your hair was brushed off your face, and he stared at you for a moment. You stared back. Memorizing. Trying to remember the feelings that were already starting to fade with the pleasure. 

He shifted off of you and onto the bed beside you, moving enough to untuck the sheets and pull them up around both of your naked and flushed bodies. You rolled onto your side to face the window and he shuffled up behind you, draping a heavy arm around your waist. 

Silence. 

Your heart was racing in your chest as you stared blankly out the window across the room, the moon still low over the horizon but it was bright behind the buildings of Menton. You could see it clearly in the sky and you focused on it to try and ignore the ache in your heart. George’s hand was pressed to your stomach to hold you close and you blinked away the tears forming in your eyes as you set your hand over his. 

His lips brushed over your shoulder and left soft kisses in their wake. It was almost serene. Almost like it was where you were meant to be; in his arms. He was already in your heart. 

The reality of your situation felt like a never ending weight on your chest, crushing and suffocating, and there was nothing you could do about it. 

George held you for an hour.

It wasn’t often that you stayed together after you hooked up - after all, you were only ever there for the sex - but the way he lingered made your heart hurt worse. Part of you wished he would just go. His thumb rubbed gentle patterns back and forth over your stomach and his breath felt warm against your back right between your shoulder blades. You wanted to cry. You wanted him to leave already so you could cry. 

“George.”

Your voice was wavering. 

He shifted slightly behind you so he could lean up on his arm to look at you. He could see the tears in your eyes despite how you tried to look as nonchalant as possible. 

“What is it?” he asked softly, raising his hand from your waist to brush over your cheek. 

You took all your courage to make your final request, your final attempt, “Break up with her.”

George sighed softly, “I can’t.” 

You kept your stare straight out the window, “Why?”

“I love her.” he said without a thought. 

You bit your lip. George rested his hand on your shoulder and kissed your bare skin. 

“Do you not love me?” you asked, your quiet voice trembling in fear of his response to the question you knew you had to ask. 

“I…” George thought now, trying to word his response, “I love you in a different way.”

You exhaled deeply. 

Silence. 

“I need to go.” George finally whispered. 

“Where?” you asked. 

“We just shouldn’t drag this out.” he replied. 

You didn’t reply. You knew where he was going to go anyway. Who he was going to see. You nodded. 

There was a pause. You could feel his eyes on you. 

After a moment, when it was obvious you weren’t going to say anything else, he shifted away from you and got out of bed. You heard him walk a few paces away and start to get dressed. You could see him in the dark reflection of the open window; his silhouette pulling his boxers on and then his jeans. You heard the zip of the zipper and the shuffle of the button being done up. Each quiet second, each muted sound of his clothing returning to his body made your heart ache. 

“I already paid for the room so you can stay here tonight if you want.” George said gently, “Order room service…anything you want…it’ll all go to my card.”

You didn’t want room service. You didn’t want a hotel room. You just wanted him. 

You could barely reply with an “Okay.” 

George stared at you as he buttoned up his shirt, eyebrows furrowed in slight concern as he stared at your curled up body under the white hotel sheets. You looked small in the king size bed. He spoke your name softly and when you made no move to answer, he walked around to the side of the bed, standing between you and the moon. He crouched down to look at you and you bit your lip under his stare. 

“Don’t cry, okay? Please.” he whispered, noticing the shimmer of your eyes. 

You pulled the sheets higher to hide your face from him when you couldn’t hold back a tear that seeped into the white fabric with ease. You held your breath. 

“Why can’t it be me?” you whimpered ever so softly. 

Part of you wished he didn’t hear your pathetic pleas but he did. George sighed and ran a tired and stressed hand over his face. 

“It just…it just won’t work. In another life maybe.” 

You whimpered, “Was I only ever a meaningless fuck to you?”

George’s silence was your answer and despite his hesitation to deny your statement, you couldn’t hold back your sob. 

George breathed your name and tried to reach for you, resting his hand against your hair to try and get you to look at him, to try and console you, to try and convince himself that he was doing the right thing. 

“Just go.” you said flatly behind the sheets. 

He paused. 

“George.” you said as strongly as you could possibly muster. “Please leave.”

The weight of his hand lifted from your shoulder and the shadow of his body that the moonlight cast over you faded with his footsteps. His car keys were lifted from the table. The door opened. The door shut. 

The very second silence fell and the reality of your loneliness pressed on your naked body, you burst into tears. He left you. He left you like it was easy. Like the last few months and all your nights together and whispered blissful words meant nothing to him. 

But what did you expect when you were the side piece anyway. You were never his first choice. And you never would be. 

When the sun rose, it woke you at daybreak. The curtains were still open so the room brightened as the horizon was pooling with light. You squinted in the brightness and rolled over in the frightfully empty king size bed. The sheets lingered ever so faintly with the smell of him. Your skin was bruised by his touches. Your mind was plagued by the sound of his praise through his moans. 

That’s my girl. 

You grabbed your phone to find no missed messages but a single notification. 

georgerussell63 posted a photo

You opened it.

You let Instagram load.

Your breath froze your lungs like ice.

It felt like a dagger had lodged itself right in your chest and you could feel each layer of skin and muscle tearing and aching around the blade. It was a picture of him with her…and sickening caption stating how much he adored her…how much he loved her…how much he was wholeheartedly dedicated and wanted to show her off to the world. 

He broke your heart to go public with her. 

It shouldn’t have hurt you when your entire situation was based on lies and adultery but it was true. You had fallen in love with him over the few short months you had in secrecy. You had fallen in love with him and the little grain of rice sized life that was growing inside you. 

You wanted to tell him that night. You wanted to tell him that you were pregnant and it was his and this was his way out. But why would you tell the man who didn’t love you that you carried your shared future inside your body? You couldn’t force him to love you. And you couldn’t force him to love a baby conceived from a relationship of deceit.  

[blossomthepinkbunny]

Hazbins bad character design

I feel like there is a definitive lack of varitey when it comes to the designs in HH as well as a problem of characters' designs not fitting them or what the show wants us to assume about them.

I've said it before and I'll say it again (like lots of other ppl already) but the designs in HH specifically mostly don't work. They're fine if you look at them disconnected from the show. Maybe as just random characters who don't really have to carry a show visually. But they don't work if you actually put them into context and into the background of Hazbin Hotel.

Obviously this stuff is very objective and if you do like the designs thats fine (which I shouldn't even have to say). Also I didn't study art or character design and I don't think you have to to be good at it/be able to form opinions on it and this is mostly just me compiling what I don't like while using some basic knowledge on how shapes, colours etc work.

(rant under the cut)

One problem I really have is, that as soon as you have a design there are immediate assumptions about the character. In the sense that if person A is very muscular and fights against person B, who is maybe slimmer or less buff, you would probably immediately assume that person A wins, atleast in physical combat. Whereas person B would probably be the assumed winner in a stretching or flexibility competition. Often characters are designed with these assumptions in mind. Muscle, height, weight, age, clothes etc. give way into assuming stuff about people, their condition, lifestyle or personality.

The expectations that are set up by the design choices are usually either picked to genuinely represent something about a character or to be subverted and shock/confuse the audience.

Like how a lot of fighting types in Pokémon will either be more muscular or have other details relating to certain fighting styles/sports and the fairy types are usually pinkish, fluffy and cutesy. Because these elements are something typically associated with these types and when we look at them we can pretty easily tell which type they're supposed to be.

Otherwise, Monster girl from Invincible is drawn as a twelve year old girl, so it subverts expectations when she turns into a big green monster and generally doesn't stray away from violence, because it's something you wouldn't have assumed about her from her appearance.

In Hazbin Hotel most of the time the character designs don't necessarily fit what they're supposed to be and they also don't use the other design choices as subversion (the one that would probably count here is Nifty with looking and acting very childlike usually but then also acting violent/crazy sometimes).

The first thing would probably be that characters don't look their age mostly.

Charlie and Valeria (Vaggie, but I really don't wanna keep calling her that so she gets a new name) look fine as they're supposed to be around 20. Rosie and Carmilla also look alright for what we can assume their ages are supposed to be. But Alastor is in his 30s or 40s (what it says on the fandom wiki) and he looks around 20 as well. The same thing goes for Lucifer. He looks so young that he could also count as just Charlies brother or friend rather than her dad, because he doesn't look like he could be the dad of a 20 year old. This makes the song "Hell's Greatest Dad" a bit awkward because these men are singing/competing about who is better as Charlies father but they don't look a day older than her. Husk also looks way too young for someone in his 60s-70s (again from the wiki).

The body types being all the same also doesn't help.

Mimzy and Adam are pretty much the only more relevant characters who aren't like all the others in terms of body shape. All the other relevant women in the show have a tiny waist and either big boobs/big hips or just a slimmer build in general. All the men have thin waists and then broader shoulders.

And for some characters it makes sense. Like Angel is really flexible and his more lanky body fits with being a spider. But why are Lucifer and Valentino like that? Other than the fact that Viv doesn't like drawing muscles there is really no reason for them too being build like every other skinny man there. Valentino is supposed to be intimidating not just by how he acts but physically too. He seemingly has a bit more muscle than others but his arms are still super thin and look like they could snap if I look at them wrong. I'm not trying to say that abusers all have to be buff, but simply from a design perspective the scenes with him would be a lot more effective if we saw him actually have a big physical advantage over Angel and others, even when he isn't necessarily threatening them. As soon as he comes on screen, we could see him as a much more intimidating presence, especially when all the other characters look like sticks. Or they could make it so, that he hides his muscles under his coat and when we get the reveal of him actually removing it, it's more shocking and immediately makes the situation more tense.

Lucifer could've had a more confident frame as well. He's the king of hell and the strongest being in hell, so just for the diversity I would give him some muscles too. Husk is also super skinny and for someone who only sits around and drinks alcohol all day, he should definitely have a beer belly (please I swear to god I wanna see more men with bellies, Mammon was great). Also for Valeria and Lute and pretty much all the Angels I don't get why they wouldn't be more buff either. Valeria is a fighter, she's Charlies bodyguard but she looks like all of the other women there. It's stated that Angels fight so wild because they don't know they could get hurt. And while I know that the Angels can really only get hurt by angelic weapons, having this whole reveal that they can be injured would've definitely suprised me more, if they actually looked like they couldn't be injured in the first place. But then again, Valeria looks like her arms would break as soon as a breeze hits them too hard. In some episodes her thighs look a bit more muscular, but not notably and she also doesn't fight using her legs (like Carmilla) so only her thighs being bigger sort of doesn't make sense. In general, she or Lute don't show any difference to the women who aren't physical fighters. And obviously just to have a more interesting show to look at, including different body types would do a great job at making these characters stand apart from eachother more.

While we're on the topic of diversity, another obvious thing that makes the characters redundant and borig (sometimes ugly too) is the reused colour pallette. Colour coding is probably one of the easiest things when talking about character designs and it's something atleast Helluva Boss understands.

What effect warm/cold tones have or what feelings we associate with different colours is a great way to bring stuff about characters across without being too on the nose. Obviously colour can also be used to either connect characters or to make them very distinct. Shape language also plays into that of course. In Inside Out the emotions are mostly characterized by their respective colour and by their distinct shapes.

Joy = yellow (bright colour often associated with the sun/light)

Sadness = blue (cold colour often associated with tears/rain)

Anger = red (very strong colour with aggressive association with fire or when someone turns red because of anger)

Fear = purple (light colour here, mix between red and blue as fear often falls into a more angry or sad feeling)

Disgust = green (colour of most dirt or puke or other stuff people usually see as gross)

Or in a show like Bluey, where different patterns, shapes and colours show the breed of the dog and also how characters might be related to eachother (same breed/mix of breed = usually related).

Or how colours can be used as lighting effects to create cool shots when the colour pallette changes all of a sudden. In JJBA these changes happen often when someone is in distress or unsure of themselves. Also in tense moments to make them seem more exciting and interesting.

Hazbin Hotel has very limited range when it comes to the colours of the main cast. All of them feature some form of red and that usually in combination with black or white (if they aren't just purely red like Alastor or Rosie). This makes them not stand out from eachother and creates very similar colour pallettes which get boring once you've seen them repeated over and over again. It also makes the visual connection between characters who are actually related (like Charlie and Lucifer) a lot less strong because so many characters share similarities already.

Also they just hurt to look at sometimes because the background is mostly red as well and with a lot of them being very overly detailed. People have also spoken before about the show being pretty inaccessible for colour blind/vision impared people due to these issues with the colour.

And now you might say that it's hell and therefore it makes sense for all of them and the background to be red. But firstly, I don't think that there is a definitive source which decides that hell is red and can only be shown/interpreted as red. And also there is another show, also set in hell which actually does a much better job at that and actually shows different colours in hell. Like in Helluva Boss the rings are all colour coded.

And I know, that HH plays in the pride ring fully, but imagine how cool it would've been to see sinners have colours similar to the sin(s) they committed. This could lead to them looking distinct from eachother and the background and would also lead to us being able to assume stuff about them, if we're familiar with the colour coding. In "Hell's Greatest Dad" they do a fun colour change with different light and it's really refreshing and I just wanted to see more variety like that (of course I kinda get that the colour changing isn't really part of the shows design but it was pretty cool to see in that song).

There also is the issue with characters that are supposed to be animal-like sinners not looking like the animal they apparently take inspiration from. The thing is that the animal/object parts don't necessarily have to be visible to understand a character. But in the show, how sinners look in hell is often influenced by their life on earth. Vox's head being a TV is because he was a Tv-show host when he was alive. Nifty also is supposedly a bug, which makes sense because she hates bugs and probably hated them in real life too. But that is where it would be great to actually have Nifty resemble a bug, instead she has no features of one and just looks like a regular humanoid sinner. The same thing happens with Alastor being a deer, Valeria a moth, Charlie goat-like and Angel a spider (also Mimzy is apparently based off of a chicken). Like I said, the animal inspiration isn't essential to the characters, but emphasizing these design elements could help the characters stand out instead of them all just looking like sort of human characters. Sir pentious and Husk work the best in terms of presenting their animal inspiration (though pretty much everything else about Husks design sucks ass).

And then there are complaints about the characters that are supposed to be people of colour not having any features that resemble their race. It's just a bit weird when a mostly humanoid sinner doesn't really seem to resemble how the person looked in real life. Black characters have really desaturated and sometimes just straight up grey skin in HH. Alastor is probably the most egregious in that regard, but also Emily has just light blueish gray skin and no textured hair or other black features like the nose or lips or palms. Velvette and Sera have darker skin but also no other features (except for when we see Velvette's natural hair texture in like one shot at the end of the season). I know there are other things wrong with how Voodoo is presented in HH or with Mimzy's design often being seen as a jewish caricature, but I don't wanna focus on that fully, because I feel like there are people better suited for talking about that (black people or jewish people ofc).

In general HH is a show with pretty bad designs (imo). That's actually a thing I prefer about Helluva Boss, because there the designs are mostly okay or actually sometimes pretty good. Striker is probably my favourite design in both shows (he reminds me of Dillon and that's cool).

I like Mammon, Asmodeus, Octavia and Loona as well. I would still probably change a bunch if I were to redesing the HB cast but they overall look more solid than the HH cast.

This was another post which pretty quickly became an excuse to talk about other media I enjoy. I might do that more often, because comparing elements of HH or HB to other stuff makes it kinda easier to articulate my feelings. Also just because I enjoy talking about other stuff too.

[kitchenisking]

Guys here's an extra one just cuz ❤️

Kinktober 2021: Tattoo by Jokers_Wild - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 5,689, sterek)

Stiles has been pulling out all the stops to keep his secret from Derek, just long enough at least for his human body to heal enough for what he has planned. Derek is surprised by the human's motives and declaration towards their relationship, the wolf can only do one thing after that...Claim him.

Like this Forever by EvanesDust, Winchesterek - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 96,956, sterek)

“What the hell is a Stiles?”

“That would be me,” came a voice from close by. A guy, Stiles, walked up to them. He was almost as tall as Derek, with a smile on his face, his hair a little mused but at a professional length with moles freckled across his skin. Stiles was broad-shoulder and slimmer at the waist, dressed in casual clothing with a bag slung over his shoulder. He held a to-go cup holder in one hand.

“It’s a nickname,” Stiles continued. “And I got your coffee on my way in since I was stopping by anyway.” He took a cup out of the holder and held it out to Derek.

Derek stood frozen for a moment before taking the cup. It smelled like his normal order from Starbucks, a white chocolate mocha. Though it was overpowered by the scent of something woody and fresh, and also…motor oil? It was the oddest combination but also weirdly calming since it reminded him of home and the preserve.

***

Or the one where Stiles is Derek's personal assistant at Hale Incorporated, and they fall in love.

Only Fools Do What I Do by CharWright5 - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 110,423, sterek)

It had seemed like a simple plan, a way for everyone to get what they want: pretend to be Bond-Mates so Derek could get the teaching job he wanted, while Stiles didn't have to face living with a total stranger at college and have it be known that he was suffering from night-terrors. Only things weren't that simple. Because they were Mates, a fact Derek was hiding due to Stiles' determination not to have one and his need for independence, as well as his Alpha-aimed anger at his lack of freedom. But the longer they live together, the more Derek finds himself falling for the Omega, and the harder it is for the Alpha to resist the alluring scent of his Mate.

You're everything a big bad wolf could want by TheBeastsWrite (orphan_account) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 1,812, sterek)

Stiles is dressed as little red to help isaac make scott jealous but it makes his mate derek jealous ad outdoor claiming sex persues don't judge me.

Enticing by DevilOfWire - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 3,034, sterek)

Stiles is just doing what most young men do on their beds alone at night when he realizes his innocent moans brought a certain monster into his room, one who’s more than happy to call him out as the slut that he is.

What I Want by zynnser - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 15,079, sterek)

It’s not his best comeback ever, but in his defense, most of his brainpower is going towards thinking about exactly what it is Stiles has been practicing with. For months. 

Or the one where Stiles wants to ride Derek's alpha form but has trouble asking for what he wants.

Mama Please by Parkkrys - (Rating: Mature, Words: 20,699, sterek)

Claudia gave up hunting to marry Noah and so far no regrets. Yes, it irks her that Noah is friends with the Hales, but she had been able to put it to the side. 

Now after having twins, she struggles with watching lil Stiles and Derek grow closer, and now at the age of eighteen Derek reveals that Stiles is his mate. Something in her snaps and she leaves to the Argents for help. She wasn't expecting her lil boy to be a spark though.

Now years later, she knows her baby boy is married to Derek and she is determined to set him free no matter the cause.

Down the Rabbit Hole by orphan_account - (Rating: G, Words: 3,953, sterek)

His hind paw catches on a rock and he goes down, crashing onto his stomach, the wind abruptly forced from his lungs. He tries to scramble to his feet – paws, whatever – but he can already sense a large figure hovering over him, trapping him in. He makes a break for it anyway, though, desperately trying to escape, but a large muzzle with rows of sharp teeth is already descending on him and –

– and Derek Hale is going to eat him to death. And not even in a sexy way. Then Derek finally will become a murderer, and his dad will have to identify his body by scraping bits of his rabbit intestines off of Derek’s wolf-y canines.

All because he didn’t warn his werewolf friends off from their usual late night hunts, because then he’d have to admit that he’s a fucking wererabbit.

I'm the ghost of my mistakes by GreyHaven - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 29,696, sterek)

Stiles hasn't been known as Stiles for the past six years. He's Mitch Rapp, a CIA assassin with 117 kills under his belt. When he gets a late night call from Scott, saying Derek has been taken, he's on the road back to Beacon Hills in less than ten minutes. He's going to get Derek back, even if that means adding a few more kills to his ledger.

An American Assassin/Teen Wolf fusion. Rated E for violence which is canon typical for AA but might be considered extreme for TW. If you're familiar with the plot of AA, please be assured that no female or beloved TW characters have been fridged in the making of this fic and pairing.

Magic Matters by alikatastic - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 20,314, sterek)

Stiles wouldn’t say that he had moved on from the pack, but he had not spoken to any of them in years. After the Ghost Riders, Stiles never found his place in the pack. After a few years and a dozen more fights, Stiles decided to blaze his own path. He made a name for himself as a magical fixer. Every week, he received thousands of emails requesting his help, so he didn’t know why he decided to aid a coven in South America to create a treaty with some hunters in the area. He knew there was a chance he would run into Derek, so it didn’t really surprise him that he did. He was surprised, though, when the magical bond flared up between them, seemingly aided by the magic of the coven, but what really surprised him was Derek’s lack of reaction

[bellebridgerton]

His Diamond: Chapter 5 (Anthony Bridgerton x plus size!fem!reader)

✨Masterlist✨

✨Previous Chapter✨

Y/n woke up from a very restful sleep, she felt someone pressed against her back. She recognized the hands, surprised that Anthony wanted to be this close. Carefully, Y/n turned to face Anthony, she lied there watching him sleep. Anthony immited a soft groan, pulling her impossibly closer, nuzzling his face into her neck. Y/n gently rubbed his back, surprised yet relaxed in that position.

Anthony woke up slowly, inhaling her scent. He kissed her jaw softly, "Good morning, Mrs. Bridgerton, I trust you slept well."

Y/n smiled softly, slightly embarrassed, "I'm sorry I fell asleep before we could consumate our marriage last night."

Anthony caressed her lower back, "Don't worry about it, sweetheart, we have today and the rest of this next month." He captured her lips with his, smirking as he felt her respond to his advance. Y/n allowed him to take the lead, she had very limited knowledge of the martial act.

Anthony smirked softly, kneeling between her thighs, "My dear, take this beautiful dress off, you won't be needing it anymore. I want to see you in all your beauty before I truly make you a woman."

Y/n nodded and sat up, "I will require assistance, dear husband." She was excited to give herself to Anthony, she knew he would take care of her. Anthony helped her out of bed, easily and slowly removing her wedding dress, then expertly loosening her stays and letting them pool at her feet. His hands ghosted over her form, using a feather-light touch at certain parts of her body, before finally removing her slip. Anthony's hands explored every dip, roll and curve of her body. He had always been attracted to slimmer women, but as he stood there, looking at his beautiful wife, he couldn't imagine anyone more perfect.

Anthony was brought back to reality by Y/n's hands on his shirt, which he was quick to remove for her. He couldn't remove the rest of his clothes fast enough, he needed her close again. Anthony pulled Y/n in by her waist, "Don't worry, I'll be gentle and we can take our time."

Y/n cupped his face in her hands, "I trust you, Anthony."

Anthony nodded, kissing her chest and letting his hands explore the expanse of her thighs. He wanted to please her first, show her that he's not a selfish lover. His knees hit the floor as his lips traveled closer to her hips, he looked up at her, "Spread your legs, sweetheart." Y/n did as instructed, standing wider for him. Anthony gently guided her to lean against the bed, kissing her thighs, "Good girl." He give her left inner thigh a playful bite, before finally diving between her thighs. As soon as he tasted her, he knew he'd soon be going back for more. Anthony licked and kissed her clit, her soft moans music to his ears. He wrapped one arm around her thigh, so she couldn't pull away from his mouth. He gently teased her entrance with his middle finger, while his tongue took care of her clit.

Y/n couldn't control the sounds spilling from her lips, her head was blissfully spinning, she never wanted this to end. She felt Anthony's finger penetrate her pussy, causing her to still in surprise.

Anthony felt her change, he kisses her thigh, "Relax for me, sweetheart, the pain will pass, I promise." Y/n squeaked in understanding and bit her lip, hoping that he was right. Anthony offered her his free hand, which she quickly took and squeezed gently. He sucked gently on her clit while his middle finger worked her pussy, feeling her slowly relax around his finger. Anthony gently added a second, feeling her acclimate more quickly to the change than before.

Y/n's free hand gripped the covers behind her, "Anthony! Oh my god! Don't stop!" She didn't know what was happening to her body, but it felt good and she trusted that he had the best of intentions. Y/n felt something akin to a weightlessness overcoming her body, she knew she wanted to feel it again.

Anthony gently pulled his mouth away from her pussy, kissing the inside of her knee, "You're delicious, sweetheart." He stood up, helping her stay steady, "I've got you." He gently lifted her by her hips and laided her on their bed, leaning over her as he kissed her deeply, yet softly.

Y/n's body naturally responded to Anthony's, arching her back when his chest moved away from hers and her legs resting over Anthony's. She watched him cup the bud of her breast in his mouth, his tongue running over it, "Oh, wow!" She didn't want him to stop, her hand gently clutched his hair.

Anthony kissed between her breasts and reached down, softly rubbing her pussy, he felt her wetness had increased. He smirked, "I think you're ready, sweetheart. What do you think?"

Y/n nodded shyly, "I'm ready."

Anthony shared a loving kiss with Y/n, "I'll guide you, but feel free to do what feels good." Y/n smiled softly and nodded wordlessly, she trusted that he'd make this enjoyable for her. Anthony slowly slid his hard cock into her tight pussy, giving her a few moments to adjust.

Looking up at Anthony, Y/n bit her lip, "I'm ready, Anthony." The slight pain quickly disappeared, much quicker than the first time. Y/n's moans and gasps egged Anthony on, he picked up speed, watching her beautiful face contort in pleasure. He lifted her hips, angling deeper inside of her and pounding her pussy harder. Y/n gripped his forearm, struggling for words between moans, "Anthony- I'm- oh god- almost- almost there!"

Anthony could feel himself close to the edge as well, "Let it happen, darling." He rubbed her clit hard and fast, feeling her walls strangle his cock, pulling him to his orgasm as well, filling her. He felt as if she sucked the breath out of his lungs, he'd never felt anything like that before. Anthony kissed her shoulder and rubbed her hips, "Good girl."

Y/n looked up at Anthony, her eyes blown wide with pleasure, "Please tell me we'll be doing that again soon."

Anthony laughed, a full, hearty laugh, something that he hasn't felt in far too long, "Trust me, darling, we'll be doing that all the time." He carefully removes himself from her body, lying down beside her and gently pulling her to his chest, "Rest, darling."

✨Next Chapter✨

Tag list: @unholyhuntress @faatxma @sarahskywalker-amadala

[justplainwhump]

Bull

Meet B's opponent in his first big fight.

[Dany: Fighting Ring Arc]

This is adapted from an RP with @hackles-up, my beloved B (Beast) is her character.

Content / warnings: illegal fights, forced to fight, threats of noncon, humiliation and dehumanisation, broken bone, shock collar, whumpee x caretaker, bad guy pov. BBU setting implied.

Today's arena was impressive; even though it was as improvised as they all were. Set in the old sports area of an abandoned factory's rooming house, the organizers had invested in quite a bit of equipment and service to make the venue memorable.

Large stage lighting systems were installed on the long sides of the pool, spotlights that would later illuminate the fighting pit on the bottom of the empty pool now dancing over the expectant audience, the caterers flitting between them, and the fighters preparing in a cordoned-off area opposite the entrance.

Bull stood in the fighter's area with crossed arms, his back to the wall, the size of the empty half circle around him a good indicator for the respect he'd earned himself over the past years. He was a favorite; his owner's, but also, the crowd's. Every now and then one of the guests in their suits or evening wear would step in closer to the cordon, look at him, and nod contently before they pulled out their wallets and turned towards the betting stations. He allowed himself a short smile. More money meant more clout, meant more rewards. Bull had started as a desperate street fighter, but he had worked himself up to his own room in his master's house, his own chef, his own physical therapist.

Only thing he'd ceased getting, something other Dogs had, were Chewtoys.

Bull went through them too quickly, Master had said. He'd have to wait for the fights. It was an unspoken law, that everyone who set up an opponent for Bull, everyone who wanted to challenge the champion, added a prize for him as well. He hadn't seen tonight's one, yet. Not that it mattered much. He'd win. He always did. And after, there'd be someone scared and warm waiting for his cock.

Usually, these prizes were runaways, gathered from the street, or discount pets after a third or fourth refurb. Skinny, scarred, pathetic. Most weren't even Romantics. Didn't matter. Bull didn't want to be seduced.

They rarely made it long. Sometimes, spectators of the fights would pay Bull's master extra, to let them watch the aftermath. In those cases, they did last longer. Bull knew how to give a spectacle.

He figured they'd want a spectacle tonight, as well. Bull was the headliner, scheduled for the last fight of the night - as always -, but this time, they pitted him against fresh meat. One of Hank's, this place's head operator's, latest findings. The man was good at spotting potential; but setting his latest toy up against Bull in his very first fight? Risky, to say the least.

From the corner of his eye, Bull saw one of Hank's trainers pointing at him. Ryder. Arrogant, overpriced ass who wouldn't last a second in the pit himself. Only thing he could achieve was mess with WRU products conditioned minds. His Master had brought Ryder in as a trainer for Bull once, because he was meant to be the best. Hadn't worked out well. Bull didn't fight because of weird WRU drugs messing up his brain. Bull fought because he wanted to. Because fighting opened doors for him. Because he couldn't just do whatever he wanted, but was celebrated for it, revered even. His Master had a claim on him, sure, but both Bull and him knew, he could walk away whenever he wanted. He just didn't want it.

Bull's gaze rested on the Dog next to Ryder. Curious, that Hank let Ryder train the newbie. Quite the investment into someone who'd be obliterated. He watched the new Dog with a glint of lazy interest. Big, just like Bull himself. Lot slimmer around the waist, though. Built to be not only strong, but pretty, too. He was younger than Bull, but far older than the usual fresh meat they'd throw on the market.

And obviously pumped on drugs. Bull smirked and gestured at his trainer. Well then. He'd match that. His trainer raced to his side with a drinking bottle. Filled with the good juice. Bull took a big gulp. "What's that guy's story?"

"They call him the Beast. Runaway WRU they found on the trash and built up again."

"Guessed as much."

"There's more though. Something you should know."

"Hm?"

"Bait's his girlfriend."

Bull chuckled. "Pathetic. Dogs don't do relationships." 
"Maybe he's an unusual one. He's going to want to defend her."

Bull watched the pet from hard eyes. "I'll keep him alive then. Let him watch."

The trainer tilted his head, but his reply was drowned out in booming music, tuning over into an announcement.

“Ladies and gentlemen! We have a great line up for you tonight, so get those bets in and let’s get this show on the road!”

The new Dog startled at the noise and the following roar of the crowd.

Bull chuckled half to himself. This would be easy. Still. He could make it easier still.

"Where is that prize?" Bull asked, over the cheer of the audience, unfazed by the noise. It would grow a lot louder, when he came up, later. "Get her here. Pay someone if you must. Gonna push some buttons before we're on."

His glance followed the trainer, wandering over the spectators, who cheered as the first fighters of the day were let down into the ring.

There he was, the ring's manager, Hank, standing next to his boss in the first row.

By their side, kept on a short leash, knelt a young woman in a tight black catsuit, her face pressed against Hank's leg.

From the distance, Bull saw Hank shake his head. His boss put a hand on Hank's arm, saying something into his ear, that caused Hank to lift his arm and throw an with an indignant gesture at Bull.

Bull grinned. He always got what he wanted. He made the money tonight, after all.

It was thrilling, to see the bristling Hank stomp towards him, the bait dragged behind him, struggling to keep his pace as she crawled on all fours.

The girl could've been conventionally attractive, Bull guessed, if that was what one was into. Tall, skinny, soft, cute little cat ears nestled in her short hair. She was also humiliated, terrified, and drugged just enough to make that terror plain obvious but render her unable to do anything. That certainly was something Bull was into. He smiled, flashing all his sharpened teeth.

"Don't do anything stupid, Bull." Hank kept the girl on a tight leash, as he arrived just on the other side of the cordon. It wasn't only rope keeping them in, though.

Circuits were embedded in the floor, that would set off the collar of any Dog who crossed it before the time for their fights. Bull knew precisely where these are, and how to avoid them when he sauntered towards her.

He grinned, ignoring Hank's speech.

He could swear the bait was shivering already.

"So, Kitty," he snarled instead, making sure the new guy overheard. "I hear you're used to taking Dog cock?"

It was enough already. From the side, he heard an animalistic roar, alarmed screams from the handlers.

The new guy was lunging forward, gnashing his teeth together, all but dragging the two handlers desperately trying to pull back his leash.

"Dany!" His voice was harsh and raw.

"Dany," Bull all but purred. "They give names to the fucktoys? What a waste."

"Beastie! Stay!" Ryder was running towards his charge.

"Catch poles! Get the catch poles-" Hank yelled orders at the handlers.

The commotion in the fighters' area had stirred the audience, enough for their attention to shift from the fight down in the pit to tonight's main contestants. Murmurs and laughter erupted, even a cheer or two for Bull.

He grinned, taking in his surroundings.

Hank had pushed himself between the Fighters and the girl.

Not far enough though.

At the other end of the area, the WRU pet had shaken off the handlers trying to pull him back and charged towards Bull, letting out a guttural roar.

Bull knew exactly where he could step, and his arms were long enough. His left arm pushed Hank away, his right wrapped around the girl's leash and yanked.

The whore wouldn't have been any match for him in any state. Drugged as she was, she all but fell right into his arms with a hoarse scream, just as he spun back towards the charging idiot, the girl pressed firmly against his front, right in the Beast's path.

The other stopped dead in his tracks, inches in front of them.

"Easy, buddy," Bull taunted. "We're not on yet."

It sounded like the fight had been interrupted down in the pit. All eyes were on them now. Perfect.

Bull fastened his hold of the fucktoy, acknowledging the press of her warm, tense body against his, her frantic heartbeat against his chest, that caused a pleasant stir in his groin. She'd be fun, later. He leaned in the slightest bit, licked a slow, long strip over her neck, making sure his sharpened teeth caught the light just right.

"You've fucked her before, too, haven't you? Don't you think I too deserve a taste of what I fight for?"

"Bull," Hank hissed. "Step down."

Bull ignored him easily. Hank would acknowledge the rustle of bills around him just as much as Bull did. And even if he didn't - Hank's own boss sure did. All attention was good attention.

The other Fighter took another slow, predatory step towards Bull.

Behind him catch poles were silently, hastily being snatched up. Fingers hovered over controllers. Nobody dared to make a move though. It seemed as if everyone held their breath.

Then, the wannabe-Beast lunged forward, eyes glaring with unbridled fury, his first crashing towards Bull's face.

He had no idea what he was getting himself into. Too bad for him that Bull did.

The bitch screamed, when the pet's fist came crashing towards her. Bull had to leave it to his opponent - he was fast. Good to know. No chance for Bull to wrestle his girl in the line of attack, just to throw himself back and dodge. The "Beast"'s fist brushed over Bull's cheek, but failed to fully connect.

Before he could even withdraw his arm, his eyes widened. His body spasmed. He fell over like a felled tree.

For the tight fracture of a second, Bull expected a shock of his own. None came. So he just watched his opponent crumble in front of him. The whore's heart against him was racing, her shiver a tantalizing distraction on Bull's skin. He gently lowered his mouth over her neck, pulse under his enforced teeth. Her breath stilled. As did the audience's.

"Intermission," the announcer's voice crackled over the speakers. "We've decided to interupt tonight's program, and pull forward our main fight. Please, refill your drinks, adjust your bets, and be ready to see Bull vs Beast, starting in no less than five minutes!"

Bull locked gaze with his Master, in the first row, slight panic in his eyes, gesturing for him to let go. Bull rolled his eyes. Idiot. As if Bull would risk disqualification like that.

He slowly pulled back from her neck, felt the tension of the audience dissolve, just like his Master's.

"I'll finish with you soon enough," he murmured into the whore's hair, loud enough for those spectators around him to brighten up in anticipation.

"Fighters, step back," another announcement cracked.

Bull nodded his head in faux deference and set the prize down to her feet, ready to toss her back to Hank.

Not without a little signature, though.

A slight twist of his arm was all it took.

He felt her bone shift under her skin, heard it crack, just as he let go of her with a swift push.

She landed in a heap in front of Hank's feet, screaming in pain.

*

The audience slowly retreated, ushered back by Hank's security. Handlers rushed in to look after Hank's sorry ruffled Beastie, already sitting up, pale from the shock's aftermath, rendered unable to do anything but growl. What a throwback for the upcoming fight these shocks would prove to be.

Bull's own trainer appeared by his side with a bag of ice for his face, and he reached out to take it. 
His gaze rested on Hank though, and he relished the way the manager's lip formed an asshole. He'd never say it out loud, though. Hank knew where his boss' money came from.

And so he seethed in furious silence as he signalled for a medic to look after his pathetic fucktoy's broken arm.

"Waste of time," Bull mouthed, grinning at Hank and lifting a finger to draw a line across his throat. "She's done. They both are."


----

Dany tag list (let me know if you want to be added or removed): @distinctlywhumpthing @Whumping-on-the-ridge @queenofthenoobs @ocean-blue-whump

[beansprean]

Queening the Pawn Act 3 Part 11

*slaps comic* this baby can fit so many frame stories in it

Acts 1-2

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

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. Full body of the Guide, still in her plain black dress inside the 'shameful sexual encounters' room in the corridor of her mind, crouching on the floor in front of the red file box labeled Willem Van Helsing. There is a ripping and cracking effect on the top left corner of the panel as the Guide rips herself away from her memories, slamming the lid of the box back down and arching her body up and away from it, expression panicked and overwhelmed. 1b. The Guide in profile, leaning forward with both arms braced on the top of the box as if to hold it closed. Her head is bowed, hair casting dark shadows over her face as she stares into nothing, shaking with adrenaline. 1c. Close up of the Guide from the front, the gray room warping and glitching out behind her, broken door slumping open on its hinges. The construct of naked Guillermo is still standing there, but he looks different. He is cast in deep shadow so his expression cannot be seen, eyes blank and white with no glasses, hair longer, shape slimmer, the suggestion of blood smeared across his throat and chest. The form warps and glitches out, but is clearly no longer Guillermo, but Willem. The Guide has her back to him but whips her head up in shock, hair falling over her face, to stare in abject terror past the viewer as the man suddenly speaks. His words are garbled and glitched, impossible to determine more than a question mark. 1d. Extreme close up of the back of The Guide's head as she shakily asks, "What did you..." 1e. Repeat, The Guide turning her head to glance behind her, shadowed face gaunt and pale with fear. She continues, "...call me?" 1f. Waist-up of naked Guillermo, normal and unglitched, standing behind her. Behind him, the room continues to glitch out and shake, cracking into spiderwebby chunks. Guillermo smiles kindly and repeats, "Guide? The record is ending."

2a. Close up on the Guide in the real world, back in her striped blazer and hair half up, startling awake. The illusion around her scatters into gray and white squares as there is a loud record scratch from offscreen. 2b. Zoom out to The Guide sitting in lotus position in her bare concrete room, water heater, Van Helsing poster, and coffin visible on the wall behind her, file cabinet peeking in in the foreground, the record player balanced on a tall apple crate beside her. The Guide sits and stares into nothing, catching breath she doesn't need and calming herself down. Laszlo's voice crackles out from the record player: "For the erotic version of this grand mind adventure, flip to side b." /end ID

[talesfrommedinastation]

My redneck neighbor Doug on Tech's Looks

(Me: "Doug, so you know, a lot of people are unhappy that the Bad Batch was made to be lighter then the regs. It's a hot topic."

Doug: "Well, here's my theory on the matter. I hope the kids on the Internet (his words for Tumblr) don't get too spicy over this. It's all in good fun. I hope it makes 'em smile and think a bit.")

After having a firm, peer-reviewed discussion (and by that, I mean endless texts with Doug) it has been concluded that Tech has lighter skin and hair, and a slimmer build, due to the Kaminoans leaning harder into the hillbilly part of Jango Fett’s genes, whereas the regs got the nicer, prettier, more amenable genes. 

In short, Tech looks the way he does…because he is a blue-collar white guy from the American South.  

A Florida redneck, specifically.  

And let me (by way of Doug) tell you: rednecks do not have beautiful tans, flawless fades, snatched waists, muscular thighs, diamond-sharp cheekbones, the ability to follow directions, or perfect matching armor, all of which a reg has. 

(Sorry, Howser, go back to guarding Ryloth or posing for GQ or whatever it is you do.)

Back to Tech. Look at that man and tell me the shit he gets up to would not be constantly at the top of r/floridaman

A lot of people might clutch their pearls, and be shocked at this revelation. 

“He has a fancy accent! He’s persnickety about certain things! He’s my fancy pretty boi and I’m going to dress him up in a gold thong in my fan art!”

You do you, kid. But let Doug and his neighbor here, Dr. Meat Muffin, defend this deranged argument, here. Using anthropological research applying autoethnographic methodologies that they conducted independently at one point. 

(By that, we mean that Doug is from the bayous of Louisiana and has lived in the Florida Panhandle before moving Up North. Dr. MM attended graduate school in a redneck hot zone, lived in said redneck hot zone for a while, and married a Texan as well. Hook 'em gig 'em and wreck 'em)

After all, if you want an army to win over the galaxy and work with the Jedi, you want well-mannered, shiny, handsome men with melanin and agreeable personalities.

You do not want a pale-assed weirdo in jeans and a receding hairline who can’t get off his phone to work closely with orphaned space wizards. 

Tech’s an anarchic Floridian piece of tornado bait and that’s why he look the way he do, says Doug.

Here's why Doug says Tech is a Redneck:

Mandalorians are Space Rednecks: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Trx7fDdlIo0. I do not own the rights to the video, but my God, it is perfection. A masterpiece. Mandalorians are rednecks in space, who end up colonizing Space Florida, no questions asked. Our theory is Tech is merely the concentrated, Waffle House-fistfighting, chew-dipping, Mountain Dew chugging, part of that. The Kaminoans just leaned into the trailer park part of Jango Fett hard when designing Tech, because no one can fix cars while shooting a gun and yelling at his crazy brothers like a redneck (more on that below). 

Hell, all of the Bad Batch are different brands of Florida Man:

Grizzled long haired tan guy with skull tattoo, obsessed with tracking, knife fighting, and hiding from normal society? Hunter.

Bald tanned dude with weird scars who loves blowing shit up and screaming for no reason? Wrecker

Pale, freaked out man who was kept in a cult’s closet for years? Echo 

Creepy, old, Second Amendment loving white guy with a gun themed tattoo who can’t seem to die? Crosshair 

Maladjusted orphan left behind at a bar by her inexperienced caretakers and almost drowns in the ocean? Omega 

His love of vehicles: We never see Tech whip out a manual to fix anything. The man says it’s because he has an exceptional mind, but that’s edging dangerously close to “Ah don’t need no schoolin’, hoss, I can fix any Ford!”.  Doug thinks it’s just because Tech loves playing with car parts, which is some grade A, hillbilly tomfoolery. And what is more redneck than some white guy ripping apart a vehicle in the dirt while the rest of his family bitches at each other in the heat? It happened right here in Season 2 (this exact scenario has played out many-a-time in Pensacola, trust me). All they need is some Lynyrd Skynyrd blasting in the background to make the picture complete. 

His clothing color scheme: “Oh, no!” you wail. “He just changed his colors to reflect Mandalorian heritage!” 

WRONG. 

Tech’s redneckery is blatant here, because his colors switch from 

Hot Topic goth to…UNIVERSITY OF FLORIDA. 

“We’re loyal to each other,” says Hunter. And by that, he means the Gators, beloved of many an NCAA following redneck in the Sunshine State and beyond. Orange and Blue, indeed.

Notice how we first see him in these colors, is while he’s parked his stolen work vehicle on a beach while his brothers are busy being chased by huge-ass crabs as their sister is quietly fishing?! 

This is PEAK FLORIDA MAN. 

Tech was probably trying to get ESPN+ to work on the Marauder, because the Devil works hard, but the SEC works harder during football season. I wonder if he has a tattoo of Tim Tebow on his buttcheek.

His home is his car: Tech, as well as his unemployed brothers and underaged sister who the cops are looking for (how trashy is THAT sentence), live in the Havoc Marauder now that their home was destroyed in a fire fight with the government. 

("Jesus Christ, this argument just writes itself now, don’t it," -Doug) 

This attack shuttle, for all intents and purposes, is a stolen work truck that they live in. It’s filled with posters of guns, as well as other weapons and explosives, and has all the comfort of a Jacksonville gas station at 2 AM. All you need is some cigarette burns on the fender and some empty take out bags from Bojangles and it might as well be parked down by the river in Suwannee County. Just Florida redneckery. Speaking of which….

He loves guns and explosions: Won’t go into detail, but the man knows how to use multiple pistols, rifles, and different tactile maneuvers with glee. Tech’s only notable complaint regarding explosions is making sure Wrecker’s new fancy boom-booms aren’t parked next to his bunk. And the look of calm joy when his sister tells his brother ‘Do some damage, Wrecker!’ as Tech pulls a Bo Duke and flings his vehicle across a locked up work site, while his deranged brother giggles and fires some guns at a government-owned power plant from the back seat. PURE. UNADULTERATED. REDNECK. 

He’s a racer: It is a fact (with peer reviewed research) that rednecks really, really love them some racing. NASCAR, motocross, BMX, you name it. And if you’ve seen ‘Faster’, well, that’s all you need to know about the man. 

He has no fear of large animals: We’ve never seen him hunt, but Tech knows how to distract massive amounts of nasty animals using light, and the first response to seeing a terrifying monster isn't running away screaming, but whispering ‘FASCINATING’., before, ya know, firing a gun at it. It’s one step away from ‘IT’S COMING RIGHT FOR US’. You KNOW that man would be sponsoring gator wrasslin' contests if he could.

His actions towards His family: This is where Tech truly differentiates himself from the typical ‘geek’ character and leans hard into King of the Hill territory. Whereas a normal nerd character might nag and panic when his sister falls down a hole while drilling for explosives in a cave (dear God Doug, how much more redneck examples can you keep pointing out, I’m exhausted), Tech merely YEETS HIMSELF down into the abyss. Or when his brother picks a fight in the mess hall? Does Tech run away, or just start punching people like it's past closing time in the Applebee's parking lot in Daytona and the Dolphins lost? And let's not discuss the season finale :(. Rednecks are some loyal folks, family first, and that’s our man’s right there. 

There you have it, says Doug. Tech isn’t lighter because he’s better than the regs. The opposite.

You can not be a deranged, adrenaline filled, sassy, goggled weirdo flying throughout space and blowing shit up and not be pale AF with twiggy legs and a receding hairline that’s edging towards Hunter S. Thompson level, born out of America's Sunshine state while a hurricane chases you out.

::turns up ZZ Top::

[slutouttanowhere]

Pairing: Drew McIntyre x plus-size!oc

authors note: this was an idea I was really into when I started watched Bridgeton a few months ago, sadly I didn’t get very far in it, but! But this wip came out of it, and I hope you all enjoy what I have here, maybe I’ll continue, I wouldn’t get to excited about that though lol. Follow me for me, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

“Fleece, are you listening to me?” Benedict’s voice pulled me from my meditation, I was not listening to him, I turned my head in his direction. His fingers gingerly turned my head to the people in front of me, suddenly I became aware of my surroundings. The studio was lavish, yet messy. Half naked women stood at the front of the room, their body types varied from a petite, dark haired woman, to a curvy figured woman with hair the color or the sun. Her waist was slimmer than mine, and her bust was twice that of my own. The artists that sat off to the side, sketched and painted away, half filled chalices sat on a small side table mostly half empty.

There was one man however, that caught my eye, he was as handsome as the devil. Dark long hair that touched just below his shoulders, and curtain bangs that somewhat covered his striking grayish-blue eyes. His handsome face settled into a bored expression, slowly he moved from one woman to the next, but none of them struck his interest. That was until his gaze fell upon me, I froze like a deer in headlights, his eye brow lifted. Curiosity sparked in his eyes, his large hand reached for his drink, and swirled the honey colored liquor around.

“Drew! My friend, it’s been a while since we’ve seen you. How was France?” Benedict chirped up, he gently put a hand on my shoulder, and brought me forward. He placed me in front of him like a prize, Drew’s gaze lingered on me as he talked, and the way his eyes shamelessly slid down my body made my face heat up.

I’ve never had a man look at me in such a manner, when he stood from his stool I was surprised by his stature. Benedict, who already towered over me, somehow made him and I look the same height. This man was large. “Well you know, the usual, vineyards…” He trailed off, he took his time walking from around his easel, and closing the distance between us. “Plenty of women I suppose, then there’s the mind numbing duties of a Duke, I’ll watch paint dry if it keeps me from going to court.” He said tiredly.

‘Duke? What the hell is a man of his title doing here?’ I was gagged to say the least, my words caught in my throat, I looked over to Benedict who apparently found my current state of shock amusing. Our “relationship” was so casual, and relaxed it had become increasingly difficult to remember my manners.

“None of the pretty ladies kept you entertained?” Benedict asked teasingly, a sly smirk on his lips, some of the other painters had peaked up in interest, but no one said anything.

“What good is a pretty lady if that’s all she knows how to be?” He paused for a moment, I still haven't found my words, and as I mentally stumbled he turned his attention back to me. “And what of this one? Does she know how to speak?” His eyes cut to me sharply, I wanted to shrink, but I swallowed my discomfort.

“Her name is Fleece Waterton, and she prefers to not be regarded in such a way.” I said curtly, I forced my smile, my hands were clasped together at my waist. Usually when I bite at the men in court they quickly become discouraged, and leave me alone, not this one. No, the Duke seems to like playing with his meal.

“Then in what way would you like to be regarded?” His tone was unbelievably sweet, and his voice hushed. His gaze pierced me right through to my core, disrupting the butterflies in the pit of my stomach. I parted my lips to speak, but I found it difficult to form the words once more. He lifted one of his dark eyebrows expectedly, but I couldn’t deliver on what he was waiting for.

He decided to change topics, “Fleece, who named you such a thing?” He had not bothered to put space between us since he stepped to me. I looked over to Benedict for help, but he had abandoned me to flirt with a curly, golden haired man with paint stained hands.

“It’s actually short for Felicity, it’s just that I prefer to go by Fleece.” I explained shortly, curiosity struck in his beautiful eyes, my simple explanation had not fed his appetite for information like I hoped.

His hand reached out to stroke my hair, “why? Why not go by your given name, that’s quite improper isn’t it?” It wasn’t a ridicule, but rather a genuine question. Though I can’t help but feel like he was testing me as so many men of his stature do, all men really. Well, except Benedict.

“A childhood nickname, a play on the meaning of my actual name. Fleece is the soft undercoat of Sheep’s wool, growing up a family friend of ours owned a little far, and I would love to go sneak off to see the animals with my boy cousins. I loved the horses, but the Sheep were easier to deal with because they never got tired of me petting them. It got to a point where every time we visited I didn't have to sneak off, but instead just spent time with them whenever I pleased. My father started to call me Fleece as a joke, but it stuck.” I was lost in the memory of my childhood, the yearning for that time eating me alive all over again.

It wasn't until Drew spoke out loud again did I realize how long our conversation had been going. The models had changed, and so did the artist. “That’s it, that’s what I’ve been looking for!” Suddenly he brightened up, his eyes dancing with excitement, and when his lips pulled back into a grin his dimples became more prominent. ‘Heavens, where does the attractiveness end?’

“Is our lovely sheep your new muse Drew?” Benedict spoke up, he crossed the room to meet Drew and I where we stood, I stood in the middle looking between them. To say I was confused was an understatement, Benedict more than likely told me on the ride here what the plans were, but there’s not a doubt in my mind I stopped paying attention once he opened his mouth.

“Excuse me? Muse?” I asked, my eyebrows pinching together, and my heart pounding. Drew waved his hand signaling to a younger looking man who I assumed was his page, he ran over to the Dukes side to which Drew then gestured towards his painting tools. The young man nodded his head, and carried out his orders. I blinked once, then twice, but even when I blinked the third time it didn’t help to clear my confusion.

Benedict sighed, perplexed he said, “I explained this whole thing on the way over, and you didn’t even bother to listen?” His voice stressed as he leaned down to meet me at eye level, I could feel the way my face twisted into a disgruntled expression.

“I’m sorry, you were talking so much I couldn’t keep up.”

Tags: @slutfortheeclaymore @wwechristina87 @cardierreh15

[lucagray813]

Details for the Monkey Talk AU's marshals and generals below. If you'd like more details you can check out this "wiki" fic.

Ba (Top Left)

Body: Bigger and broader than Wukong

Age: Approx. 2000 years old. Youngest of the four by a tiny margin.

Sex: Male

Sexuality: Aroace

Relationship Status: Single

Clothes: No preference for traditional or modern clothing although he does like to wear a hoodie regardless of what he's wearing underneath

Hair: Mid-length, thick and usually down

Accessories:

On his left ear is an artefact that can enhance his hearing ability while activated

On his right wrist is a bracelet that can unwind and enlarge into a staff

Around his waist is a sash that responds telepathically and he uses it like a tail

Abilities: Blessed by the Spirit of the East he can tap into plants to gather information and share his life energy to help them if they are ailing

Other details: Lost his tail as a child, has a number of scars obtained prior to eating the immortal peaches

Ma (Top Right)

Body: Slightly shorter and slimmer than Wukong. Always seems shorter due to lack of shoes

Age: Approx. 2000 years old. Oldest of the four by a tiny margin.

Sex: Female

Sexuality: Lesbian

Relationship Status: Non-monogamous relationship with Liu

Clothes: Hates them - only wears them when she has to and will wear whatever will annoy Beng. She will not wear shoes.

Hair: Short like the island monkeys'

Accessories:

Cursed bracers on her forearms and lower legs that cannot be removed - grant incredible strength when activated at the cost of excruciating pain

Right ear has a bar piercing that bridges the missing chunk from her ear

She has a tattoo over her heart that splits her pain with the bearer of the matching tattoo. (Design not finalised - Chinese character is just a placeholder. Obtained while travelling the Pacific Islands.)

Abilities: Blessed by the Spirit of the North she has unparalleled swimming ability, can breathe under water and "ask" it to help her

Other details: Has a large number of scars obtained prior to eating the immortal peaches

Beng (Bottom Left)

Body: About as tall as Wukong but lankier

Age: Approx. 2000 years old. Second youngest of the four by a tiny margin.

Sex: Male

Sexuality: Pan

Relationship Status: Single, widowed

Clothes: Prefers traditional, smart clothing

Hair: Long, normally put up in a top knot and with a hair ornament

Accessories:

On his waist is a carrier for a variety of paper seals - these include defensive and offensive spells that he can cast at will

The book he wields, the Endless Tome, can never be fully filled and responds telepathically to him

Abilities: Blessed by the Spirit of the South he is impervious to fire and he can manipulate his body temperature at will

Other details: His tail is about half the length of Wukong's and it is often hidden beneath his clothes - a quirk he picked up while exploring the mainland disguised as a human

Liu (Bottom Right)

Body: Slightly shorter and slimmer than Wukong but taller and thicker than Ma

Age: Approx. 2000 years old. Second oldest of the four by a tiny margin.

Sex: Female

Sexuality: Demi

Relationship Status: Non-monogamous relationship with Ma

Clothes: No preference over traditional or modern clothing - she dresses practically and comfortably. She likes wearing cute jumpers

Hair: Mid-length, usually tied up in a bun

Accessories:

Necklace around her neck functions as a translator - allowing her to understand and be understood in a myriad of languages

Pouch strapped to her leg is near bottomless and the contents are well protected - she uses it primarily as a first aid kit but all manner of helpful items are kept within

Abilities: Blessed by the Spirit of the West her skin and bones are exceptionally tough - she is incredibly difficult to injure. She seemingly has a skeleton of steel meaning she packs a devastating punch

Other details: Has next to no scars bar a prominent one on her right forearm she obtained long after eating the immortal peaches

[beefrobeefcal]

Something about Mouse defending Frankie’s honor is just so sweet to me.

Like maybe, they’re out somewhere, and they’re dressed up nice or something and a guy tried hitting on Mouse and she tells him like, my boyfriend is right here, and he starts talking shit ab how chubby Frankie and how she’s too good for him and she shuts it down. Maybe when they get home Mouse assures Frankie by like, kissing and rubbing his tummy (worship basically😭)

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, got me right in the giblets, Nonnie! We love to see a feisty Mouse defend her Catfish. I'm sorry that they never made it home.

I hope it lives up to your vision. Enjoy!

Beefro 👌🥩💜

--------<3----------

Beefro Proudly Presents:

a Chubby!Frankie one shot

The Catfish & The Mouse: Baby's Got a Temper

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader (Mouse!)

Summary: A lovely evening turned upside-down by a temp.

Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI)

Word Count: 2,517

Content Warning: Smutty smutty smut smut, p in the v - unwrapped (don't be silly, cover you willy, kids!), Nasty Temps, Truck Sex, Public ? Sex, Body Insecurity, Belly Worship

Author's Notes: Our Mouse is ready to fight anyone who disrespects her Frankie. Thank you, Nonnie for your contribution to the THOT TANK.

Not proofed. Enjoy!

__________________________

You were so excited. You’d finally been invited to a work-related function in recognition of all the hard work you’d done, and the night was finally here.

Frankie had even gone out and bought an outfit for this evening and gotten a haircut.

He looked amazing in an all-black outfit, the top button of his shirt open, no tie. You’d opted for a cocktail length, black bodycon dress with a plunging neckline.

When you walked out of the bedroom to the den, Frankie looked at you from the couch and stood up abruptly. His eyes bugged out roamed over your body and he swallowed thickly.

“Give us a spin.”, he crooned, walking towards you with a dark look and his hands in his pockets.

You moved slowly in a circle and looked at him doe eyed. “Do I look okay?”

He reached a hand out and tugged you by the waist closer to him. “Princess, you look good enough to eat.”

*****

The venue was gorgeous, and you quickly found your fellow invited co-workers while Frankie went to the bar and ordered drinks for you both.

The evening was going well; presentations had been made and you were all taking your seats as the food was going to be served. You and Frankie chatted with your co-worker Elise and her newly minted fiancée, Maggie, through dinner, and as they discussed their upcoming wedding. Frankie’s hand gently caressed your thigh under the table, and you took it as nerves given you rarely did anything like this and the current topic of marriage.

Little did you know that Frankie already had a ring hidden in his toolbox in the garage – somewhere you would never look - waiting for the right moment.

Frankie watched as you listened to Molly explain the reason for their wedding colour scheme. He took in how your hair sat in your updo, and the freckles that sat on your shoulder that he would kiss as he held you in bed at night. He listened to your questions and laughs as you talked, and watched your hands move with your conversation, imagining the ring he picked just for you on your left ring finger. He loved you, probably more than he thought possible, and he couldn’t wait to give you his life, soul, and last name.

Not knowing the deep thoughts Frankie was swimming in, you turned and excused yourself to the washroom and asked if he needed another drink.

“Uh, sure, baby… just another whisky, neat.”, he said smiling, clumsily returning to reality.

After visiting the ladies’ room, you went to the bar, waiting for your turn to order. You suddenly felt a hand touch your waist and turned to see a man you did not know at all. He was Frankie’s heigh, but slimmer and much more angular and sharper looking; nothing gentle about his gaze that washed over you.

“Can I help you?”, you asked, trying to move out of his grip, but he pulled you in tighter. You could smell the alcohol and cigars on him.

“Yeah, sugar, you can. Tell me your pretty name so I know who’ll be sitting on my lap the rest of the night.”, he purred, his southern accent thick.

You pulled yourself out of his hold and stepped back. “I’m here with someone, my boyfriend.”, you said curtly.

“And who might that lucky fellow be?”, he drawled as stepped closer to you.

You looked towards your now empty table, seeing Frankie walking across the room towards you. “Him.”

You nod your head towards Frankie, and the man turns.

*****

Frankie watched for you to head to the bar. He was nervous in these kinds of things, fancier events. He was a blue-collar guy who wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty, and most of the men there looked like they hadn’t seen a hard day’s labour ever. While he felt he was dressed the part for this evening, he could help but notice the stares you got as you walked through the venue. He watched the eyes rove over your body in your dress, and then saw the wide eyes that followed when they saw who held your hand.

He looked at the bar and saw you there, backing up from a guy whose hands…

No. No no no. Hands off, fucker. Frankie thought angrily as he stalked towards the bar.

As he got closer, he heard the guy laugh and say, “The fat guy? Baby, he’d probably get grease stains on your pretty dress.”

Frankie felt like he got the wind knocked out of him. He looked at you, seeing your body language morph from defense to attack mode.

“Excuse me?”, you snarled at the man, eyebrows high.

“Honey, a cute little thing like you deserves to be on the arm of someone who knows how to say ‘no’ to seconds.”, he smiles, then points his thumb to Frankie. “Him? He’s a fat guy with a gut that needs some fucking discipline drilled into him. Not worth your time, kitten.”

Your jaw tightened and your eyes burned. “How fucking dare you…”, you growled, feeling your first tighten and pull back.

Frankie stepped in front of you, his back to the man, and gently putting his hands on your sides to guide you away. “Not worth it, baby. Remember, you’re here for work. I’m okay, Mouse. Walk away.”, he said in a hushed tone, eyes trying to connect with yours, but you kept moving your head shooting daggers at the man.

“Did you hear what he said about you?!”, you barked, trying to get around Frankie to get back to the man, but he held you back. “No, it’s not okay, Frankie! Let me go!”

You ripped Frankie’s hands off you. Stomping towards the man, Frankie desperately tried to get another grip on you.

“What’s your problem, huh?”, you bark at the man, jabbing his chest with your finger.

“Baby’s got a temper.”, he cooed, then sneered at Frankie. “She a lot to handle, fat boy?”

You felt flames burning through your veins and you wanted blood. “Call him that again. I fucking dare you.”, you snarled.

The man’s grin started to fall, the feral look in your eye caught him off guard, and he spat, “Crazy whore. Hey, fat boy, get your bitch on a leash when you’re in public next time.”, then turned to walk away.

You went to lunge at him, but Frankie caught you.

“Mouse, stop. Come on… you need to cool down.”, he said in calm yet stern tone while he held you back. He could feel you trying to pull out of his grip, but he held firm.

You hadn’t caused a huge scene but there were some spectators still watching you both, and Frankie needed to get you out of there.

Elise and Molly had witnessed the whole thing and informed you that the man was no more than a temp filling it at one of the other firms. It didn’t help. He’d insulted Frankie – your Frankie. You were furious.

Frankie thanked the ladies, and as you walked down to the parkade, he looked dejected. The words had gotten to him and you could not allow them to sit and fester in his mind. Your fists were balled so tight you thought you might break your fingers at the thought that those words made him feel as bad you felt angry.

Getting down to the parking lot, he unlocked the passenger side door for you and went to open it, but you slammed it closed and pushed Frankie up against the truck, caging him in between your hands.

“Mouse? honey… what’s-”, Frankie asked, confused.

“I love that you love to eat. I love feeling your weight on me when you fuck me.”, you growled aggressively between deep breaths.

 “I love knowing that this,”, your hands grabbed his belly, giving it a quick, firm shake, and Frankie let out a small whine. “This is because you love to stuff yourself on the food I make you.”

“I love knowing that when I’m done with you, your jeans don’t fit. I love knowing that no matter how much you eat, you will always have room for pussy.”

Frankie’s lips were parted, and he was panting. You were like watching a tornado – sublime, terrifying; he was awestruck.

“I love knowing that when you fuck me, I’m your princess.” You leaned in and ghosted your mouth over his. “Now get in the fucking truck, fat boy.”

Frankie crawled in the passenger side, and you hiked up your dress to your hips and crawled onto his lap, slamming the door behind you. You kissed him roughly, and Frankie moaned into your mouth, and you started to grind your hips into his.

You pulled back, hips still grinding, and ripped open the buttons to the dress shirt he had on, your heated gaze burning into his abdomen.

“You’re so fucking hot, Frankie…”, you panted, and your hands went to his belly, kneading and gripping him.

“Belly’s all for you, princess… getting fat for you.”, Frankie whined as he grabbed your waist with his large hands and ground up into you.

“Put the seat back.”, you moaned, continuing your gyrations and your fingers pressing into his chubby tummy.

Frankie adjusted the seat, you shifted back and opened his pants, pulling his leaking cock out. Frankie hooked a finger in your thong to pull it to the side, and you shifted over him and slid down on his member slowly.

Frankie watched your face as your adjusted to his size and held you but the back of your neck, pulling you in for a gentle kiss.

“Yeah, my feisty girl… look so fucking hot, ready to fight… no one fucks with my baby.”, he whispered against your lips before he opened his mouth and pushed his tongue into yours.

You started moving up and down, and you sat up from the kiss. You looked down at Frankie and saw his lust-blown eyes shaded by heavy eyelids, his reddened kissed lips and his belly marked red from your fingers and framed by the de-buttoned shirt. Your hands went to his stomach, and you started to ride him faster, holding on to him as you bottomed out on him repeatedly.

“Oh fuck… Mouse… oh my god… keep going… fuck… fuck… you feel so good… my fucking hero, baby…”, he cried out.

Your walls started to tremor, and your orgasm hit you. “Frankie… I’m…. oh god!”, you wailed.

“Close… pr-princess… m’close… oh fuck… fuck…”, Frankie whined followed by a strangled moan.

You could feel your mixed spend seeping out and coating his lap and your thighs as both panted. No doubt the truck had been rocking and it certainly wasn’t soundproof, but neither of you cared in that moment.

You flopped on top of him, he hands went to your back, and rubbed soothingly, while he planted kisses in your hair and whispered, “Sucha good girl… love you so much, princess… deep breaths, honey… deep breaths…”

You felt completely fucked out and were ready for bed. Once Frankie was able to get into the driver’s seat, he turned on the truck and right before he pulled out the of the stall, he saw the man sitting in the car parked across from you, eyes wide.

Frankie smiled and winked at him before he exited the parkade.  

__________________________

TAGLIST:

@harryleatherfit @harriedandharassed @theywhowriteandknowthings @toxicanonymity

[hawkepockets]

thoughts/headcanons abt dao party body types…

morrigan is skinny, gangly, tough, and rangy from life in the wilds. she has sharp shoulders, stick-out shoulderblades, pointy joints, knobby long-fingered hands, a flat chest. she could be built like a ballerina, except that she doesn’t practice flexibility or grace. which makes her obviously graceless and brittle. the same height as alistair, annoyingly.

alistair is a big-boned, broad-shouldered, strong young man, inclined to beefiness, pudge, and nice boobs… except that he’s always been underfed and has now contracted the taint, so his strength is kind of wasting and drooping on his frame. a sad little belly… slightly pointed ears, just enough to mark him as a shifty character to the eye of a suspicious bigot, without being definitely elvhen.

leliana is plush, pear-shaped, and curvy with big (deadly) thighs and a heart shaped face. her arms have unexpected wiry strength, and her hands are hard. she loses a lot of her healthy fat & rosiness between dao & dai, becoming more rumpled, spindly and birdlike. SAD.

zevran is a beautiful, cat-footed rogue who can charm the rich and classy, so he’s fat and deceptively soft, apple shaped with dainty hands and feet and very strong calves from jumping and climbing. he moves very quietly and springily. medium height for an elf, short king by human standards. long, elegant ears.

wynne is a classroom skeleton. wynne is a folded up ironing board in circle robes. wynne is a murphy bed. wynne is a coffin lid. wynne is taller and more imposing than you expected from a distance. extremely straight, stern posture and big hands that she’s taken good care of. nothing about her bowed or crabbed by age. even her wrinkles are straight lines.

oghren has a beer belly and broad, hairy hands, but by dwarven standards he’s kind of small and slender.

melantho is tiny, much smaller than any of the humans, but to call her “lithe” or “willowy” because she’s an elf would be a joke. her sister is lithe and willowy. mela is a compact, unyielding mass of gristle and bone. no ass, no tits. the taint was already taking hold of her on the road to ostagar, and though its grip on her loosened with the joining she bears its marks—sunken eyes, clawed fingers and toes, blackened extremities, a fevered metabolism that melts away any remaining baby fat and keeps her cranky and cold, a slinking step, sensitivity to light. big, kitten-like ears.

sten is stacked like a sumo wrestler. best tits in the party, easily.

matsendra is bigger than mela but still pretty short with a fat, rounded hourglass figure. like zevran, he has a well-fed, satisfied, domesticated look, but unlike zev he’s not prepared for any chases or parkour. he is genuinely as used to soft living as he looks. with time away from the circle he firms up and gains a subtle, intimidating glow of strength and control, but never gets slimmer. for an elf he has smaller, rounder ears—one torn half off by the demon torpor—and unusually thick facial & body hair.

loghain is actually built very, very similarly to alistair, in a more advanced stage—a big frame that should be filled out, but miserable, ascetic living has stooped his shoulders and hollowed his gut, making him look older than he is.

velanna is an inverted triangle, a corn chip, a captain america. big shoulders, trim waist, tight butt. very disciplined. when she slouches in annoyance it’s artful, poised, and a little hard to believe.

nathaniel looks like a line cook. clammy, jittery, skinny, ugly defined abs, diet of mostly smoke. much much too tall. too tall by far. hunched, self-conscious body language. has erratic bursts of strength in which he can toss oghren like a sack of flour.

sigrun is a full and sexy hourglass!! but she’s all the way down there and wearing legion armor, so you don’t even know. you don’t even get to know how perfect she is.

justice is dead, and squishes like rotten fruit if you touch him. very big, looks as tall as nathaniel but that’s because nate has bad posture. actually slightly shorter. twice as wide.

anders is spare and kind of attenuated, like he’s been spread thin by stress, with an unusually long, slender torso, long arms, and short legs. his hands & feet are a little too big for his limbs, like a stray cat used to fighting, but his touch—whether healing, hurting, or grasping in passion—is gentle, firm, and clinical.

shale is shale.

and most of them are trans.

…………… TO ME❗️

[litnerdwrites]

I wasn't really sure how to end this one, so it feels much more abrupt than I would've wanted. I considered trying to write smut, but decided to leave it on this one. Perhaps I'll make this a mini series too? Wdyt? Otherwise, I really enjoyed writing for Sloth. I had so many ideas, and places I wanted to take this, but I think this is the one that fit Eleanor the best. Should I continue writing for KOTW after Prince of Sin week? If so, who would you want me to write for? @princeofsinweek

Day 6: Sloth/For Research

For research purposes - Sloth x OC

WC:1,899

TW: Um, some kinda sexual innuendoes, but nothing beyond cannon typical.

“For research purposes, huh?” Eleanor grins up at him, as Lo lazily rakes his hand through her hair. 

“Is there a problem with that?” he drawls, peeking over the top of her book to look at her, a brow raised. 

Eleanor met his gaze with her own half lidded stare, a slow smile spreading across her own face. She’d been Lo’s personal research assistant for several decades at this point, though, deep down, they both knew it was more of an excuse than an actual position. There were plenty of demons who were just as, if not more, qualified to assist him in researching whatever topic had grabbed his interest. However, it was clear to everyone that no matter how much Lo denied that he was playing favorites… He was playing favorites. 

Something Lust took immense pleasure in teasing him for.

“Not at all. I’m just curious as to what exactly it is that you’re researching, your highness,” 

Sloth took his sweet time studying her, eyes searching her own before he dragged them to her round breasts, down her narrow waist, to where her hands lay folded over her flat tummy. Eleanor’s eyes narrowed half-heartedly, as she tracked his gaze, clenching her thighs together as under his careful eye. 

“That’s nothing you need to be concerned about, Eli. Just focus on following my orders so that I can complete my research,” he chides, gently. 

She merely rolls her eyes. 

“Might I, at least, look over this research of yours when it’s completed, your highness? You know how I love to read over your discoveries,”  

“Perhaps, if you behave and keep quiet while I work, I might consider it” 

“And if I don’t?” 

“Then I should have to find a way to keep your mouth occupied that doesn’t include speaking,” 

Eleanor’s eyes sparkle at the challenge.

“Oh my, look at you being so salacious. I’m sure your brother would just pass out from joy should he find out,” she smiles innocently. 

Lo’s eyes narrow, but before he could respond, however, a knock sounds at the door. 

Eleanor shoots up from her position, moving to stand on silent feet and pulling a small stack of books that Lo had already read and discarded into her arms. She can feel the Prince’s displeasure, but pretends not to notice as she mov to put the books away.

“Enter,” Lo drawls. 

“Pardon the intrusion, your highness,” curtsies a slimmer, red haired demon as she enters.

“Did you need something, Aurora?” Lo asks, his displeasure palpable.

Eleanor listens from behind the stacks, frowning as she puts the books away. As much as she enjoyed spending her days researching with Lo, and lazing about as she read romances to her heart’s content, she was still adjusting to being part of a demonic court. Well… More so adjusting to being part of a court, she supposed. 

Years spent living in relative solitude living in the Shadow Realm had left her preferring her own solitude as opposed to being around lots of people, and while House Sloth was relatively quiet, being that it’s essentially a giant library, she attracted a lot of unwanted attention. Mostly due to Princess Vittoria’s fixation on the  particular corner of The Underworld from which she hailed. She remembered when she first arrived here, wanting nothing more than to curl up, into a ball and disappear. She probably would have, had it not been for Lo’s warning about revealing her fears. 

It was Lo who somehow managed to ease every fear and anxiety. It was he who had quickly understood when she was becoming overwhelmed, and helped her escape the situation. He was the one who made her his personal research assistant, in part, after he spent an entire night talking with her about the books they read, what genres she enjoyed and answering questions about their respective homes. Sloth had respected every boundary, while gently encouraging her to test her own limits from time to time, as she  accompanied him to visit his brothers, discuss court matters, or even attend a party or two. Although, that last once became less frequent after Lust made his desire for her known, to get under his brother’s skin, if nothing else. 

Eleanor put the books away in silence, her simple, blue gown trailing behind her, while her mind raced with thoughts about when she got here, and the comfort that she often found in her Prince’s presence. Although, she also knew that there were others who were vying for his affections as well, and while none of his past relationships had ended negatively, from what she heard, she wondered if that their relationship, be it romantic or not, would be the exception. She was learning that she was the exception to many rules, in regards to the Prince of Sloth, so naturally, she worried she would have to be the exception in ways that she did not like, as well. 

That thought terrified her. 

Enough so that she had to fight to keep the tears from falling.

This was ridiculous. Nothing had even happened yet. They had no romantic relationship, yet she already grieved what might not even happen? 

Or perhaps it was more so fear of losing her home?

“-li!”

But then, would House Sloth be home without its Prince?

Would she find that same comfort here, if it weren’t for Lo? 

“El-” 

She tried to tell herself ‘yes’. That she might have made a home here if not for Lo, then her own love of books.

“Eleanor!” 

She jumped, dropping the books in her hands to the ground.

“I-I- Sorry! I got scared! I’ll be more careful!” she got out, while moving to pick up the books. 

A hand reached out and grabbed one before she could. 

Her eyes snapped up, only to see Lo kneeling in front of her, book in hand. 

“I-” 

He hushed her, gently reaching out to wipe a tear she hadn’t even realized was falling.

“What happened?” 

“Huh?” 

“You’re crying,” he gently points out, “What happened?”

“I- I don’t-” 

“Shh, easy. Just calm down,” he whispers, leaning forward to pull her into his arms, “Just relax, and when you’re ready, tell me what happened,”

Eleanor only nodded, sniffling into his chest, letting the tears fall. Sloth’s hand rubbed gently, up and down her back, while he left gentle kisses on her temple every so often. She wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, but she’d almost fallen asleep to the beat of his heart against her ear by the time she realized that she’d calmed down. 

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” Lo asks gently.

“I- I was thinking,” she managed to get out, “I was thinking, and then it just started spiraling, and then I couldn’t help but think about how this place is my home, and I might lose it one day,” 

Lo’s hand freezes, and she can feel his eyes snap to her, but she didn’t meet his gaze. If she did, she wondered if he’d confirm her suspicions, or tell her how stupid those thoughts were, and that they’d never happen. She wondered if he’d see her as more trouble than she’s worth, or if he’d scold her for entertaining such ideas. Perhaps the prince would sternly remind her of the danger of keeping secrets, or perhaps he’d comfort her, and tell her how she was wrong about-

“That’s okay,” 

Her head jolts up and she meets his icy gaze, only to be caught off guard by the warmth, as well as something else. Something she couldn’t quite place.

“W-What?” 

“That’s okay. It’s not your fault your thoughts ran wild, and it seems like it was quite exhausting,” 

She blinked up at him. 

“You- aren’t you upset? Or going to tell me they’re wrong?” 

“I could. That wouldn’t solve the root of the issue, though. Besides, whatever you think or feel is completely valid,” he shrugs, glancing away.  

Eleanor sniffles, still taking in his words.

“But I-” 

“What do you need?” he cuts her off, glancing back, his gaze soft. 

“I- I don’t know,” 

Sloth hummed, but didn't push. Instead. He scooped her into his arms, squirming, and walked back to the couch they were using earlier. 

“Would you like to go back to conducting research?” 

The question silenced any protests. Instead, Eli watched him skeptically. 

“Will you actually tell me what it is you're researching?” 

“Perhaps, dove,” 

Eleanor narrowed her eyes, even as something fluttered in her chest at the nickname. 

“Perhaps?” 

Sloth gave her a slow grin, before he plopped down, with Eli in his lap. One arm moved to circle her waist, while the other wrapped around to press her head to his shoulder before he pressed a kiss to her temple. Eleanor had assumed Lo would grab his book and continue to read while she was situated on his lap. Only, he didn’t. He didn’t pull away at all. Sloth didn’t even reach for a book. Lo merely kept her there, cuddling her close and kissing her periodically, like they had been earlier. 

“House Sloth is your home,” he murmurs, “You’ll never lose it, and I’m willing to prove that to you,” 

“I already know that. Those thoughts are just my mind spiraling,” she assured him. 

“I still want to make it known. Not just to you, but to everyone,”

“Wha-” 

“Be mine.” 

“Wha-” 

“Be. Mine.” 

Eli stared at him, having just been cut off twice. 

“Be… Yours…?” 

“I’ve been researching ways to ease anxieties, and my findings show that some people prefer physical comfort, while others prefer space, or words of affirmation. I’ve also been studying which ones are most beneficial to you,” he explained, and her eyes widen, “So even-”

It was Eli’s turn to cut him off. 

“Hold on- hold on- hold on! So all those times I layed in your lap, or gave you a hug, or let you braid my hair, was to-”

“Was it to research ways to ease your own anxieties? Yes,” Lo responded calmly, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek. 

Eli nods slowly, still taking it in. 

“And now you want-” 

“For you to be mine? My lover, my princess, my partner. All of it,” Sloth smiles.

“Are you sure your last visit to Prince Greed didn’t leave a lasting impression?” Eleanor giggled. 

Lo rolled his eyes and leaned forward, as though to plant another kiss to her cheek, only to nip at her ear at the last moment. Eli squealed, pure delight and surprise radiated from her. 

“Perhaps I should find a way to quiet you after all,” 

“How could you say that to your lover,” Eli huffs.

Sloth’s eyes widened, and for a moment, Eli swore that some unknown feeling sparked in them at her acceptance. Followed by his lips twitching upward. 

“So you-” 

“Yes. I’d love nothing more than to be yours, Lo,” Eleanor smiled.

Lo pressed several lazy kisses to her face, ending with one, right on her lips. He moved one hand to her head, to rake it through her raven hair, much like he had been doing earlier. The gesture sent a soothing sensation through her, one that calmed whatever remained of her frayed nerves. Eleanor’s eyes widened, before she pulled back to look at him, a brow raised.  

“So it really was-” 

“It really was for research purposes,” he chuckled.

[onegianthotmess]

Ikemen Vampire Rants:

💃If the Suitors Turned Into Women💃

If you haven’t seen part One of this rant, I suggest you read it for more of an explination on how this multi-part rant is formatted.

This is part two, which makes the next three suitors Arthur, Vincent, and Theo/Theodorus. (There’s a trend of them talking and then being like “oh shit” and slapping a hand over their mouths when they wake up as women this round-)

Also, I will be using myself (Amelia; looks like Uraraka from MHA but with peach colored eyes, fluffy and curvy figure, and is between 5’9-5’10 in height) as an insert for the MC and as the one who helps the suitors through their strange experience.

Mini Warning!: there is one use of a Dutch swear word in Theo’s part, but his nickname for the MC is literally mutt/dog/puppy, so-

Faust needed a few test subjects for his new experimental elixir, and naturally he first moved to put it into Charles’s and Vlad’s dinner. But, by some inexplicable reason, a few vials of the elixir somehow made their way to le Comte’s mansion and ended up in the residents’s dinner. Let’s see how this plays out, shall we???

Arthur Canon Doyle

Our British lad woke up unusually early, craving fudge

He didn’t feel too unusual, his back ached the tiniest bit and his chest felt a bit heavy, but those could’ve been cause by him sleeping wrong and he could be coming down with a little something or in need of a drink

Either way, the author didn’t think too hard about it until he actually got out of bed and glanced down to see that he now had breasts

“Bloody hell-!”

He clapped a hand over his mouth when he’d heard the sound of his voice

It sounded higher, more feminine, and much sweeter than it ever sounded before

Even as a boy his voice wasn’t this high and light!

Arthur moved his hand from his mouth and felt down his sides and to his hips, confused by his new curvature and build

And, now that he was awake, he realized his hair went down a little past his chest now

As much as he wanted to solve the mystery of his new predicament, he also needed help on how to be situated as a woman

And with extremely limited options, the author immediately went to the only woman in the mansion; Amelia

He of course poked his head out from behind his door to check if anyone was around before he rushed down the hall as quickly and quietly as possible to Amelia’s room and knocked on her door

It took a couple of knocks before Arthur could hear the brunette sleepily grumbling as she pulled herself out of bed and made her way to the door

Only to instantly be wide awake at the sight of a dimly lit Arthur that was now a woman

The brunette quickly pulled the author into her room and turned on her light to get a better look at him

Slightly shorter with a very slender hourglass type figure, not too many curves, and a rounder, more feminine face with slightly fuller lips

Amelia was just as confused as Arthur, if not a little more with how sleepy she was, but was very willing to help

After she sent him to go back to bed so she could help him at an appropriate time to actually be awake instead of an ungodly hour of the morning when it was still dark out

And so, Arthur went back to sleep, woke up at a more reasonable time, and Amelia came to his room with a few things to help him a little bit after he woke up

A little bit of improvising had to be done since Arthur was less curvaceous than Amelia, but eventually a solution was found that kept Arthur’s new chest in place

A few belts had to be used to make Arthur’s pants fit around his slightly slimmer waist, but other than that his clothes still fit him decently, if a little loose

And after Amelia brushed Arthur’s hair, he was fine to head down to breakfast if he wanted

And he did

And he gave zero explanation to anyone and began behaving like normal

Theo was even more annoyed with Arthur because he wouldn’t explain how he suddenly became a woman overnight

And Isaac was even more embarrassed to have Arthur teasing him because now he added some flirting in there

(You can’t fucking tell me that Arthur isn’t bisexual!)

The day went on as normal with Arthur going back up to his room and writing, drinking coffee, and eventually taking his beloved Vic outside to play a bit

And the afternoon was ended in Arthur running away from Theo, who was chasing him because Arthur started flirting with him just to see what would happen if he did

All in all, Arthur was happy with his day and went about normally the next day when he was back to normal

And Isaac hid himself away from Arthur for a good two weeks out of embarrassment and in a desperate attempt to avoid anymore potential flirting on the latter’s part

Side note: Arthur didn’t flirt with Isaac after that because, while he is a teasing asshole, Arthur isn’t a monster who completely tortures people

Vincent van Gogh

Sunshine boy woke up on his couch as per usual

(Christ on a stick, we need to get babie boy his own bed-)

And he was so tired and used to sleeping on a couch that he didn’t really notice anything different with him until he began to get dressed for the day and then-

“OH MY-!”

Both of Vincent’s hands quickly flew to his mouth when he heard his own voice

First of all, he now had breasts and very wide hips

Second, his voice was higher and somehow even softer and lighter than it was before

Third, his hair now seemed to be long enough to reach just a little above his chin

And things didn’t get better when he heard Theo knocking on his door

And they got worse when Vincent turned around to see the door opening

“Broer, you slept in past breakfast so I wanted to—WHO ARE YOU?!”

Theo, of course, was shocked to see some random woman alone in his brother’s room

But, after a second, when he really looked at the woman, Theo could tell that the woman was Vincent

He looked more or less the same, except with a rounder face and fuller lips and somehow even softer features

Both brothers stood frozen and staring at each other until Theo told Vincent to wait a second and to not move while he went and got help before rushing out of the room, closing the door behind him

Figuring that he had little options at the moment, Vincent just sat down on his couch and patiently waited for his brother to return, hands folded in his lap

And a few minutes later, Theo came back with Amelia in tow, a bag slung on her shoulder

When the brunette saw Vincent, she immediately dropped her bag, ran over to the artist, and immediately hugged him and saying that he was the most fucking adorable thing she’d ever seen in that moment

When Theo got mad, a quick glare and threat to not help shut him up

And then he was forced out of the room as to not overwhelm Vincent

Once Amelia kicked Theo out, she turned to the former man and began to help him in getting ready for the day as a woman with the things she brought with her in her bag

The upper body undergarment was a bit of a struggle since Vincent’s new breast were just a wee bit too small to pass in wearing one of Amelia’s undergarments, so a bit of improvising was required

After that, Amelia just had to help Vincent to get his clothes to fit his new body correctly, his shirt was a bit loose around the waist and his pants were a bit tight due to his new curves, but they managed to fit

And once Vincent’s hair was brushed, he and Amelia walked out into the hallway where Theo was waiting because he was still worried about his brother

Theo did thank Amelia and asked Vincent what he was going to do, if he was going to tell Comte about his situation or any of the other residents

And Vincent just said he was going to go into town with Amelia because he promised to hang out with her the day prior and said Theo was welcome to join so long as Amelia was okay with it

And she was because she knew Theo wouldn’t take no for an answer and she wanted extra help in keeping an eye on Vincent because there was no doubt would weird things would happen if Vincent turning into a woman was the first thing on the agenda for the day

So, without being seen by anyone else, the three left the mansion and got in a carriage to go to town and have a little down time

Amelia was almost tempted to go and buy Vincent a dress, but she resisted knowing that it probably wouldn’t fit him for long if he did turn back into a man

Speaking of men, many men approached Amelia and Vincent and began flirting with them, specifically with Vincent because he literally looked like a fucking angel

But a glare from Theo made them apologize and run away, leaving Vincent and Amelia very confused

The three of them spent their day looking around town, finding places for Vincent to sketch, and Amelia sketching Vincent at one point because he was so beautiful and she wanted to remember this odd day

In the evening, the three of them made it back to the mansion and Vincent snuck back to his room and Amelia delivered a small bottle of Rouge for his dinner since he didn’t eat all day

The next day, Vincent was back to normal and no one but Theo and Amelia knew why all three of them disappeared from the mansion the day before

And it was gonna fucking stay that way

Theodorus van Gogh

(Christ on a stick, I had too much fun with Theo!)

Theo woke up as normal, if quite early, but he felt strange

His chest felt incredibly heavy and his back was in quite a bit of pain

When Theo managed to sit up and throw his legs over the edge of his bed to sit properly, he looked down and-

“SCHIJTEN-”

Theo clamped a hand over his mouth when he heard his now feminine and honey laced voice

Somehow, he found that he now had an ample bust under his nightshirt and long hair that reached his hips

Theo’s mind went a mile a minute as he thought of what to do

As much as his instincts told him to, he couldn’t really go to his older brother as he wouldn’t have any ideas on how to really help Theo’s current situation

Arthur would make fun of or flirt with or do both with him instead of help most likely

Le Comte would probably just as stumped as he was

And Theo didn’t really think that any one of the other residents would be of much help for this particular situation

Well, except for Amelia, who was the only woman in the entire mansion

Seeing as he had no other options, Theo decided to go to Amelia’s room with his clothes for the day in hand

Of course, he had to take a couple of detours and even hide once from an already working Sebastian and a sleepy Arthur already on his third cup of coffee for the day as to not be seen before he’d gotten any help

And, for once, he was happy to have a couple days off of work

Once Theo reached Amelia’s room, he knocked a couple of times before a faint “Come in” could be heard

Not wanting to be out in the open in the hall, Theo quickly and quietly ducked into Amelia’s room

And he stood awkwardly in front of the door when he was inside of the room until the brunette woman emerged from a corner already dressed and froze when she saw him

After a split second Amelia burst out laughing at Theo, to which the art dealer responded by dropping his clothes, rushing over to the maid, and clapping a hand over her mouth

“Please put a muzzle on that snout of yours, Hondje. I’d rather not have anyone see me like this right now.”

After Theo heard a muffled, but annoyed, “Fine” from the brunette, he moved his hand away from her mouth

Amelia quickly stepped back and looked Theo up and down before shrugging

“I mean, your tits are too big to fit any of the undergarments I have, but we can improvise.”

Theo was confused. “My what?”

“Your tits. It’s another word for boobs, I mean breasts.”

Theo was going to get angry and shout when Amelia held up a hand to silence him

“Just look at them before you get mad, dummy. Your chest is two or three sizes bigger than mine so it won’t fit anything I’ve got. Your back must be killing you, too.”

As Amelia kept rambling, Theo just kept quiet and let her help him

Once a makeshift upper body undergarment was fashioned for Theo, Amelia helped him in getting his pants to fit around his slimmer waist with a few belts

And after that, Amelia told Theo to sit and she did his hair, clearly having fun because she put it into a loose braid

And like that, Theo was dressed in a way that would help him be more comfortable and he thanked Amelia for her assistance

Amelia then said that Theo could go down to breakfast if he wanted to, but she had to leave so that Sebastian would get help preparing everyone’s meal

And like hell Theo was going to pass up his beloved pancakes!

Are you crazy?!

Mf would probably marry some pancakes if he didn’t eat them first-

When Theo went down to breakfast, no one really said anything

Until Arthur came in the room

“Well, Theo, you look rather-”

“Finish that sentence and I’ll feed you to King.”

Needless to say, Arthur shut up after that

When Vincent came in the room, his brain went completely “am confusion cinnamon roll noises”

“So my little brother is now a woman… Does that mean I have a little sister now?”

Either way, Vincent said Theo was incredibly beautiful as a woman and pat him on the head, to which the latter got embarrassed by and asked the former to stop

Not much happened after breakfast, except for Arthur needing to be told off occasionally

Theo mostly spend his day with King, playing with him and taking a nap with him at one point

King ended up on top of Theo and used his chest as a pillow as he usually did

Theo had to glare at Arthur so he wouldn’t make a sexual joke or comment about it

The next day, Theo woke up back to normal and was so relieved

“Oh, thank god!”

His back was killing him yesterday and he gave Amelia props for being able to still be able to stand up straight at the end of the day

No one really said anything about the day before, except for Vincent saying he was happy his brother was back to normal and King whining because his new chest pillow wasn’t as big and soft anymore

And there’s the next three suitors! Sorry it took a minute, babes! I had fun with this one and yes, I do imagine Vincent and Theo having sort of reversed female body types. Stay tuned for part three and go read part one of you haven’t, please and thank you!

[fahbev]

More shit for my dpxdc merfolk au!

No I’m not censoring boobs. I have Opinions TM on this matter, don’t get me started. Basically: If mermen don’t get their nipples censored by unnecessary clothing, neither do mermaids.

I’m trying to have some diversity with body types in these designs, for no reason other than wanting some variety.

For Cass [Sting Ray] I can’t really decide on a body type I like for her. I’ve drawn her before with the “conventionally attractive girl body type” (bc that was my reference pic and I turned it into Cass lol) and I liked it bc she’s fine like that. But I also love her being more bulky/muscular like she is in WFA. But for this design, I am spreading my Chubby Cass Propaganda TM. Okay, she’s not that chubby, but I like the idea of her moving past her whole living-weapon thing and gaining some weight bc she’s not training 24/7 anymore. Obviously she’s still very physically fit ofc; she’s the best fighter in the world.

Steph I kept exactly how she is in canon bc she’s already perfect just the way she is. Though I am considering making her a bit more muscular.

Dick’s also pretty similar to canon, but I made him a bit slimmer. I always imagined him as more of a lean muscle kind of guy but dc loves giving all of it’s characters of the same gender the same exact body type.

Duke I made more square. He’s based on an eel so the rectangle body just made sense to me.

Jason’s just huge and Damian’s just small.

Next up is Babs. Then comes Bruce and Tim. Danny’s last bc I haven’t figured out what fish he’s gonna be yet lol. The rest of the fentons are human so I don’t really need to redesign them so much besides maybe different clothes.

FURTHER RAMBLING UNDER THE CUT bc i put a lot of thought into these

Steph is a betta fish. Ik that doesn’t make much sense bc they’re tropical (i think?) and domestic and like super aggressive and only the male ones have those pretty fins— but suspend your disbelief! She a mermaid. I’m using some real science but some of it’s just me playing with fish like dolls. ANYWAY! The reason she got fired in this au was bc her long, beautiful fins were way too fragile and Bruce stopped it bc she got hurt too easily. Nowadays she binds her fins close to her body and attaches fake ones for swimming as Spoiler. Either that or they’re not vigilantes at all in this au, I’m still deciding. I also based her hair on her Robin look.

Dick is a flying fish, bc of COURSE he’s a flying fish. What else would he be, huh? I have visions about him jumping out of the water and sailing over or onto the Fentons’ boat. The transition on his waist is supposed to mimic the nightwing symbol if you can’t tell. That’s another design element I’m trying to vary— fish to flesh transitions.

Cass is a Sting Ray. She was originally gonna be a manta ray, but when i looked it up, sting rays were the ones with the more round shape i wanted. Mantas had much bigger wings, which were absolutely not gonna fit on this paper. But sting rays are cool! They’re super friendly, some aquariums have little “petting zoos” where you can pet the sting rays! And also, yk, stinging. I’m betting the ones at the aquarium didn’t have stingers that can affect humans tho. I may have to do further sting ray research. Yes that bigass thing is attached to her back everywhere except for her neck and the base of here head (bc i love drawing hair too much). Her arms are, ofc, not attached to it. I made her a ray in the first place bc they have very good camouflage at the bottom of the ocean. I saw this picture of a ray blending in but it was ominous af. It felt perfect for her.