#I couldn’t pick between the 2 gifs so you get both

[cloveroctobers]

let it snow — 6. Terry Richmond [Winter prompts]

A/N: It only makes perfect sense to write something loving for this man. My plan is definitely to see Mufasa during this Xmas season with the family. You already know I had to add some shenanigans to this as well! 🤍

PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE & I’m using: 2. “S'mores are perfect when the marshmallows are burnt.” - "You just can't cook." + 13. neighborhood festive decoration competition becomes dangerously competitive.

WARNINGS: language + a sprinkle of sexual content.

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“S'mores are perfect when the marshmallows are burnt.” You softly exhale as you hold said s’more beneath your fingertips, staring at the treat so lovingly.

Terry gave you a side eye, sitting right beside you on the plushy outdoor sofa that’s set up in the screened in porch out back, “You just can't cook."

Which stops you immediately from biting into the slightly charred gooey dessert, “Okay, that was so nasty and so rude.”

“I mean that in the most respectable way.”

No way did he just try to pull a, “we listen and we don’t judge,” on you?

You tilt your head in confusion, lips pushed out, and a frown situated right between your brows. Maybe you weren’t the best cook and that was mostly in Terry’s department when it came to your shared household but you had no problem assisting and sampling!

Terry reached out to the table across from the couch, picking up the tin that contained the roasted s’mores, which you both participated in making at the pit in the backyard.

“Uh uh, you just said I couldn’t cook so keep your hands to yourself.”

Terry peers over at you with his naturally lined green eyes, chin burrying into his shoulder as he says, “You’re acting as if you made these all on your own. The stars are on the bottom, covered by your burnt ones.”

“They’re charred.” You sat up from your slouched position and stuck your nose up into the air.

“…Which is another term for overcooked.”

“You don’t cook s’mores.”

“You’re right,” Terry finds a s’more that looked the best, one he made, “you roasted and set them on fire.”

“The store didn’t have any more chestnuts to roast!” You argued, “And I’ve just about had enough of your slander on my s’mores. What is this? A holiday bake off?”

Terry scoffed, tossing his long legs up onto the table as he held a s’more of his own, “Not even close. You would be kicked off immediately.”

He grimaced at the black parts of the marshmallow that still remained from the s’more you previously bit out of. Which earned him a nice slap to the chest, and a rumble of laughter from him in return, letting you know that didn’t hurt as much as you intended it to.

Terry loved teasing you on your cooking skills, along with your family, who had no issue calling Terry up instead to see what he would be bringing to all sorts of family functions. It’s not like you didn’t try…you always had the vision but executing was the problem. During this season you were experimenting with soups and there was no better person to try it on than your man.

If you wanted honest opinions, Terry Richmond was your guy.

“…Hold up.”

Blinking you turn to see Terry slowly sit up—truly on some Michael myers type shit but you kept that to yourself—his eyes glaring out into the nightfall.

“What’s the matter?” You asked before popping the rest of the treat into your mouth.

Terry answers, “Look at our neighbors house and tell me what you see.”

Frowning you lean forward as well, looking left to right rather than straight ahead you respond, “…high ass light bills?”

Any other time Terry would have let out a laugh but by his posture, you can tell he was trying to keep his cool. The grunt that escaped his mouth and the air that flared from his nostrils, finally gets you to look at the house that was directly behind your home.

“Oh no he didn’t.” You stood up, watching as the inflatable gingerbread man stood tall and proud, “I said that was the theme we were going for.”

Terry nods, “Uh huh. Safi said he only celebrates kwanza and wasn’t into the whole decor like everybody in this community is.”

Safi just moved in a few months ago and you two were the first to actually go introduce yourselves with a platter of something nice. Just doing neighborly things and it seemed like Safi and Terry were getting along just fine. Safi even stopped into Terry and Mike’s catering business, building some sort of networking relationship at first. They hung out a few times, he invited you two over for dinner…so you weren’t completely strangers.

To put it simply, a heads up would have been nice.

“Looks like he changed his mind.” You crossed your arms, “Either that or he’s fake as fuck.”

Terry sighs, “I should go over and see if he needs any help.”

“Or you can just text him with a picture followed by a question mark?”

Terry gets to his feet now, “Things can get misconstrued through text, baby. I rather stop by.”

It was your turn to hum, “Well don’t take too long…the rain and sleet are supposed to come in again around nine and there’s a present I want you to open under the tree.”

The man dips his head as he starts shoving on his outerwear that he tossed on the other furniture as the indoor porch got a little too warm for him, “Let me guess, that present must be you?”

That knocks some of the annoyance out of your frame as you meet his awaiting emerald (usually peridot) hues in the dim of the attached space, “Maybe…you’ll just have to wait and see.”

He winks as he steps forward, pressing a scratchy kiss to your cheek, “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

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“…my bad man, I don’t know what you’re getting at.” Safi lightly rubs at his jaw, shifting to lean against his ajar door, “First you stop by unannounced and then you and your lady accuse me of stealing a stupid gingerbread when everyone uses gingerbread decor, it’s Christmas.”

Terry felt his eyebrow twitch, hands clasped in front of him as he felt the wind pick up behind his back, “I apologize for stopping by so late on short notice. I just couldn’t help but to detect a decor piece that I showed you that I knew my lady would like. To my surprise it looks identical. You are aware that the back of our homes face each other…so one of us would see it?”

Safi folds his arms and slowly nods his head, “Sure but it wasn’t intentional.”

“Are you sure?”

“As sure as I am of you pressing me.”

Strike two!

“Okay Safi.” Terry sends him a smile that felt less than jolly, “I see where this is going so I hope you have a nice night and whatever holiday you suddenly decide to celebrate.”

Safi sends a mocking two finger salute, “Everything’s always good on my end, vet. Terry. Say hello to the Mrs. For me?”

Strike three!

You’re lounging right by the tree on a crocheted blanket and in front of the fire, back warming up soothingly as you patiently waited for Terry to get back. Hearing the front door slamming, you sit up a bit on your elbow, ready to get back into your model pose but sit up quickly at the hooded figure.

Who turns out to be Terry who sends you a wicked grin full of teeth, his nose crinkled at the bridge of his nose followed by the dip of his inner brows.

“You didn’t.” You peek at the deflated decor in his hands.

“Uh huh.” Terry drags it towards the indoor porch, “Safi thinks shit is going to be sweet just because it’s the holidays? Naah. We’re going to show him what happens when you move the way he does.”

Clacking your nails together in excitement as you sat cross legged, you nod at your man who tosses the inflatable onto the porch. When he turns back to you, drinking in the image of you in nothing but a red and white pinstriped blouse and thigh high socks.

“That can wait though.” Terry smirks as he starts peeling out of his jacket.

You’re up on your knees while Terry gets down on his, you’re almost chest to chest as he cups your face, his thumbs gently caressing the sides of your cheek bones while he stares deeply into your eyes.

“Glad you made it back to me in one piece, Richmond.”

Terry snorts, “Did you really have any doubts?”

You smirk, “I mostly said a prayer for Safi.”

“Course you did,” Terry laughs before tenderly pressing a kiss to your lips.

You melt into him just like the sleet that hits the windows. Just from that kiss alone, you’re fighting to catch your breath as you flick your eyes up to meet Terry’s which are shifting in hues the longer he stares at you, “…I hope you weren’t too rough on our gingerbread man.”

Terry leans down to place an open mouthed kiss to the side of your neck, feeling your pulse race at its point, “I thought I said our plan to win this competition can wait?”

“I-it can.”

Great, now he had you stuttering!

“Then lay back and keep your eyes on me. If you close them at any point,” He leans in close enough to your ear, making your toes curl already, “You lose.”

And Terry knew just how much you hated that.

So call this a pre-game if you will, head tilted back, fighting to keep your eyes open that the warmth of tears glided down the corner of your eyes, arms down low on your man’s head, alternating against the urge to keep his face closer or push away while Terry got his own serving of festive Bailey’s cream from you.

The snow was the least of your worries tonight…and your worries sure as hell didn’t include Safi’s flip flopping having ass either!

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Continue with my winter anthology prompts here.

[in1-nutshell]

Request juno struggling with being pregnant

There have been too many request about this. Just going to combine all of them here!

Hope you enjoy!

5 Things that have happened during Juno's pregnancy

SFW, Platonic, Pregnancy, Familial, Romantic, Cybertronian reader

MTMTE

The following are just some of the events that happened during Juno’s pregnancy.

1. The new schedule adjustments

Now sparked, Juno was advised to take some of her usual tasks a bit easier or ask for help in doing heavier things.

They understood and tried getting used to the temporary change.

Rodimus wanted them to just focus on the sparkling instead of doing work, this ended up with a day’s long argument between the couple.

It ends up being resolved with a compromise with Juno doing more of the tasks that have them at the desk.

They won’t admit it, but they are grateful for the change when their pedes and frame starts to ache and pulse dully.

Juno gently slumps on the berth with their optics shut. They feel a familiar warmth sitting next to them while gently rubbing a thumb on the side of their helm. Juno barely cracks an optic open. Juno: “Roddy?” The familiar chuckle confirms it. Rodimus: “Rough day?” Juno groans. Juno: “More of a sore day.” Rodimus: “You know, you can always—” He stops when he sees them glare slightly at him. Juno: “Roddy we’ve talked about this.” Rodimus just shrugs. Rodimus: “Can’t blame a mech for trying.” They both laugh a bit before getting ready to go to sleep.

2. Protective Rodimus unlocked

Rodimus had always been a bit protective over Juno, even before they were a couple.

When Juno was his friend, he saw it fitting to be their friend that could protect them while giving them a good time.

A knight in shining armor that would occasionally flirt once feelings started blooming.

The protectiveness ramped up once they had their run in with the DJD.

Rodimus understood that Juno could handle themselves… but the image of their limp and battered frame would be seared in his mind.

Now with a sparkling on the way, the protectiveness skyrocketed.

But he wasn’t going to go overboard and smother them, just heavily hint on things that would keep Juno and the sparkling safe and healthy!

He wants this to be as safe a pregnancy and delivery as possible.

Rodimus figures that this something he couldn’t screw up.

Will pick Juno up if they are feeling particularly achy or tired.

Has talked with Drift and Ratchet about what else he can help with the pregnancy.

Massages when they are alone in the habsuite.

Juno is sitting up against the wall of the berth while Rodimus gently starts massaging their pedes. Rodimus is humming a tune. Juno tilts their helm a bit and gently strokes his helm fins. He stops and looks at them. Rodimus: “Joony? You need something?” Juno shakes their helm. Juno: “Just wondering.” Rodimus stops the massage and gives them his full attention. Rodimus: “Wondering what? Is it the bitty? Did the energon not sit right? Is it too cold—” Juno: “Roddy! Its not that. Huh, I’m the worrier not you hun.” Rodimus huffs a bit. Juno: “Just wondering how lucky I am to have you by my side.” They chuckle feeling Rodimus’s frame growing warmer and pulls him to a hug. Rodimus: “I should be the one wondering that Joony.” He wraps his arms around them and doesn’t let go.

3. Perceptor

Perceptor started off distant from his sibling during the first weeks.

Always in the lab, even more than usual.

It worried Juno a lot and made them upset.

He wasn’t answering his messages or com lines.

Was he mad at them?

Was he mad at the sparkling?

They had tried to go to the lab, but no one let them within 10 feet from it.

Apparently the Co-Captains finally agreed on something for once…

Brainstorm gets one whiff of this and forcefully drags Perceptor with Rodimus so the siblings could talk.

Juno has to break the tension and bluntly states they know he is mad at them, but they could really use their big brother right now.

Percy is taken back stating that he isn’t mad.

Juno demands to know why he was being so distant.

He shyly hands them a data slug.

They plug it in and it has blue prints and plans for cribs, toys, alarms, etc for the sparkling.

He just wanted to take some load off Juno’s shoulders.

Perceptor is pulled in the biggest and tightest hug he had ever received from a crying Juno. Perceptor pulls from the hug. Perceptor: “There is one thing I must ask from you.” Juno: “What is it?” Perceptor: “Do not name the sparkling Hot Rod.” Juno cracks a smile. Perceptor: “Promise me Juno.” They give him a cheeky smile. Perceptor: “I mean it Juno!”

4. The habsuite

Juno and Rodimus taken on themselves to re organize the habsuite to fit in their newest member.

They would all share the habsuite until the sparkling was a bit older to handle sleeping in a habsuite alone.

Rodimus wanted to repaint the room.

Juno agreed and decided to reorganize some of their lighter things.

Rodimus gets mad if they even try to touch something heavy.

When word gets around that the pair was remodeling their habsuite, there are some bots who show up to lend a servo.

They all get the room repainted and reorganized with the sparklings things in record time.

Juno spots a box with some data pads. They try and pick it up but Nautica picks it up. Nautica: “Didn’t Rodimus say for you to sit down?” Juno: “Its just a small box Nautica, I think I can handle it.” Juno tries to take the box. Rodimus suddenly appears from behind. Rodimus: “Juno!” Juno: “ACK!” Rodimus steadies them before they slip on a rouge marker. Rodimus: “Sorry about that—hey why aren’t you resting?” Juno has a servo over their spark and tries controlling their vents. Juno: “You know, sitting sounds really nice right now…”

5. Sparkling shower

It was now about halfway into the pregnancy when Juno finally gave in and gave Rodimus the green light to throw a party for the bitty.

They had refused to do a party in the beginning, mainly because they didn’t feel comfortable.

Rodimus whined a bit but respected their wishes.

Once he gets the word, on the condition that Magnus, Megatron and Ratchet would inspect it, he takes off.

Magnus does a double take when Rodimus actually fills out a form CORRETCTLY with minimal mistakes and errors.

Now if he could only do this with his regular work…

Rodimus gets Swerve and Drift involved in the party planning.

After a couple of changes by the three mechs, the party is a go.

It was a small group that came in after hearing that no engex was going to be served at the bar.

Juno had made it clear they did not want any drop of engex being served, the smell made them purge their tanks.

Thankfully the group consisted of most of their friends.

Gifts were brought to the party.

Rodimus hands Juno a gift box. Juno: “This one is from… Whirl?” Whirl raises his cube on energon. Whirl: “That’s mine alright!” Rodimus looks at the box cautiously as Juno opens it. They take out a sparkling carrier. Juno: “Aww, this is adorable and handy! Thank you Whirl!” Whirl: “Read it!” Juno looks closer at the small writing on the back. Juno: “PILF?” Whirl: “That’s Parent I’d like to—” Perceptor, Magnus and Cyclonus quickly try and shush the copter bot. Tailgate: “Cyclonus what does that mean?” Juno: “I’m with Tailgate, what does that mean?” Rodimus just laughs loudly while covering their audials. Rodimus: “You don’t need to know that!” Juno: “Roddy? What—” Rodimus: “You don’t need to know that!”

Guess which cat is Juno and Rodimus...

[antvnger]

I must say you look great in the color blue. It suits you well

Yeah? You think so?

Thank you! Blue is my second favorite color.

[theetherealbloom]

Don't Stop Talking To Me, And Maybe Stay Here Forever

Summary: You join Pedro Pascal in Morocco while he’s filming Gladiator 2. Between the beauty of the Moroccan landscape, the two of you share intimate moments, from quiet rooftop dinners to playful photo-taking and teasing with the cast.

Or… “I'll hold you, I'll know you. I'll never leave out the back door. And I'd love to complete you, hope you get all you could ask for.”

I just read your latest pedro fic it was the BEST DAMN THING i’ve ever read, my heart is going to burst out of my chest from all the butterflies 🦋🫠❤️ will you write more for pedro? perhaps his gf could visit him in marocco or something while he’s filming gladiator and to meet everyone from set and maybe have some alone quality time? :3 just a suggestion 😌 anyways have a lovely dayyy ^^ — anon

Paring: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

Warnings: Established Relationship, Age-Gap(ish), TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, Slight Angst, Swearing, Anxiety, Cheesy Dialogue, Cuddling, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Social Media, Embarrassment, Teasing, Shower, Slight Nudity, Make Out Session, Celebrities

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: Okay, so, we’ve all seen the photo dumps!??!! Yes! GREAT! I haven’t watched Gladiator 2 cause it isn’t out yet in my country, so there’ll be no spoilers here mhmhmhmhm. I’m just gonna make stuff up based on the pictures Pedro posted on his Instagram lol. And again, this is all made-up, fictional, self-indulgent vibes so pls no one come after me ahhhhhh T^T

Also lowkey, I can see multiple parts to this so… stay tuned.

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Songs: Packing It Up by Gracie Abrams, this is how you fall in love by Jeremy Zucker and Chelsea Cutler

gif by @a7estrellas

→ Next Chapter | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist |

OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO — DAY

The warm Moroccan breeze kissed your skin as you stepped onto the bustling set of Gladiator 2. Pedro’s laughter echoed from somewhere nearby, his distinct voice easy to pick out over the hum of activity. Your heart swelled just hearing it. He was always magnetic, but here—working, immersed in a world of creativity and camaraderie—he was luminous.  

You adjusted your sunglasses, feeling both excited and slightly anxious. Meeting Pedro’s castmates felt like stepping into his other life, one where you weren’t the center of his world but a welcome visitor orbiting it. He’d reassured you endlessly. “They’ll love you. I mean, how could they not?” But still, nerves lingered.  

“Mi amor!” Pedro’s voice cut through your thoughts. He emerged from behind a cluster of tents, his smile so wide it could eclipse the Moroccan sun.  

“Hey, stranger.” You grinned, letting him sweep you into a tight hug.  

He pulled back just enough to press a kiss to your forehead, his arms still firmly around your waist. “You made it,” he whispered, his lips brushing your temple.  

“Of course, I made it,” you teased, tilting your head to look up at him. “I missed you too much to stay away.”  

The day unfolded in bursts of joy.  

Pedro introduced you to Coco Ullrich, Paul Mescal, and the rest of the cast. Everyone was warm and welcoming, their teasing camaraderie quickly drawing you in. Pedro stayed close, his hand finding yours at every opportunity, like he couldn’t stand to be too far away.  

Later, you found yourself perched on a stool in the makeup trailer, Pedro sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of you. “Hold still,” you said, trying to fix his disheveled hair.  

Coco stood nearby, laughing as Pedro playfully swatted at your hands. “I’m serious, guapo! You’ll go out there looking like you just rolled out of bed.”  

“Maybe I did roll out of bed,” he quipped, grinning.  

You raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t, but if you keep squirming, I’m going to make sure you look like it.”  

Coco shook her head, still laughing. “I don’t know how you put up with him.”  

“I have my ways,” you said, giving Pedro a mock glare.  

Pedro leaned closer, his eyes softening. “You’re lucky I love you,” he murmured, his lips brushing yours before you could stop him.  

“Pedro!” you protested, laughing as he pulled you into a full kiss, distracting you from your task.  

“Hopeless,” Coco muttered, snapping a quick photo of the moment.  

OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO — SUNSET

The Moroccan sunset painted the sky in hues of gold and rose as you, Pedro, and the cast settled onto the soft blankets laid out for an impromptu picnic. The sprawling desert seemed to stretch infinitely, its serene stillness a striking contrast to the chaotic energy of the set. A light breeze rustled through the palm trees in the distance, carrying the faint sound of laughter and the clinking of glasses.

Pedro sat behind you, his arms comfortably wrapped around your waist as you leaned back into his chest. His fingertips absentmindedly traced small, lazy circles on your bare skin where your shirt had ridden up slightly. It was a touch that grounded you, soothing and sweet, and yet it made your heart ache with affection.

“This is perfect,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it louder might shatter the fragile beauty of the moment.

Pedro leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear. “No, you’re perfect,” he said softly, his voice laced with adoration.

You turned your head to look at him, catching the warmth in his gaze. He looked at you like you hung the very stars above, and your cheeks flushed. “Cheesy,” you teased, though you couldn’t keep the smile off your face.

“Honest,” he countered, leaning down to press his forehead against yours. His nose nudged yours affectionately, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of you.

Paul Mescal, lounging nearby with a bottle of something cold in his hand, cleared his throat dramatically. “Alright, lovebirds, can you save the smoldering for the cameras? Some of us are trying to enjoy the sunset without third-wheeling your Notebook audition.”

Coco Ullrich snorted from her spot on the blanket, where she was busy assembling a makeshift charcuterie board. “Please, Paul, don’t act like you’re not taking notes for your own love scenes.”

Paul shot her a deadpan look. “What’s there to take notes on? I’m already perfect.”

“Debatable,” Coco quipped, popping a grape into her mouth and grinning.  

Pedro chuckled, his chest rumbling against your back. “Paul, don’t be jealous. You already found someone who tolerates you.”  

“Oh, I’m not jealous,” Paul said, gesturing between you and Pedro. “I’m inspired. The level of clinginess you two have achieved—it’s an art form.”  

“Clinginess?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow.  

“Yes, clinginess,” Paul said, smirking. “He hasn’t let go of you since you got here. It’s like watching a koala in human form.”

Coco leaned in conspiratorially. “Do you think he’d survive a day without her?”  

“Doubtful,” Paul replied, his tone grave.  

Pedro shook his head, his arms tightening around you playfully. “Let them joke,” he said into your ear, his voice a low murmur. “They’re just bitter they don’t have their partners to hold them while they complain about the heat.”  

You turned your head slightly to whisper back, “I think they’re projecting.”  

Pedro laughed, loud and unabashed, and the sound sent warmth flooding through you.  

“Alright, enough roasting Pedro,” Coco said, waving her hands. “Let’s focus on the important stuff—like this cheese board I’m absolutely nailing.”

“Coco, you put a block of cheese next to some crackers,” Paul pointed out.  

“And yet, it’s still better than anything you’ve contributed,” she shot back.

You couldn’t help but laugh as they continued to bicker, the dynamic between the cast a perfect blend of teasing and genuine affection. It felt good to be a part of this world for a little while, to see Pedro in his element and to share these small, beautiful moments with the people who meant so much to him.  

As the sun dipped lower, painting the sky with deeper hues of crimson and violet, Pedro shifted slightly behind you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You doing okay, sweetheart?” he asked softly, his voice meant just for you.

“I’m better than okay,” you said, turning your face to his. “This is one of those moments I’ll never forget.”

“Same,” he replied, his eyes searching yours. “But mostly because you’re here.”

Paul groaned from across the blanket. “Seriously, someone hand me a bucket. I can’t handle this level of sap.”

“You’re just missing Gracie,” Coco teased, tossing a cracker at Paul with a sly grin.  

Paul caught it mid-air with a dramatic flourish. “She’s the love of my life, thank you very much. I’m thriving, just long-distance thriving.” His wide smile softened slightly, a dreamy look crossing his face.  

Pedro chuckled, resting his chin on your shoulder as he held you closer. “See, even Paul can be romantic. It’s not just us being disgustingly in love.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Paul said, waving him off, though the grin never left his face. “But you two are setting the bar impossibly high. Stop making the rest of us look bad.”

Coco shook her head with mock exasperation. “Let’s face it, no one can compete with Pedro’s clingy koala act.”  

“Hey, it’s not clingy if it’s mutual,” you chimed in, leaning back into Pedro’s embrace.  

“Exactly!” Pedro said, kissing the side of your neck for emphasis. “This is just... efficient affection.”  

“Efficient affection?” Coco repeated, laughing so hard she nearly knocked over the cheese board. “That’s the worst excuse I’ve ever heard.”

Pedro shrugged, utterly unbothered, his lips brushing your temple as he murmured, “Don’t let them ruin this for us.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you whispered back, tilting your head to press a soft kiss to his jaw.  

The first stars began to dot the darkening sky, their glow faint but steady against the fading hues of gold and rose. The laughter of the group blended with the soothing whisper of the desert breeze, wrapping the evening in a cocoon of warmth and love.

You let out a contented sigh, your fingers intertwining with Pedro’s. These moments—filled with jokes, tenderness, and the quiet magic of a Moroccan sunset—were the kind you knew you’d carry with you forever.

THE NEXT DAY

OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO – AFTERNOON  

The afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting warm golden light over the sprawling desert set. The faint hum of activity outside the large tent provided a calming backdrop as you and Pedro sat together, stealing a moment away from the chaos of production.  

Pedro’s lap had become your designated resting place, his arms wrapped snugly around your waist as you leaned into him. You had been quietly chatting about the day—how stunning the desert looked on camera, how Paul had stolen one of Coco’s snacks during a break—when the warmth of the afternoon began to lull you both into sleep.  

His hand moved lazily up and down your back, the motion soothing as his voice grew quieter, more relaxed. “You know,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple, “this might be my favorite part of the day.”  

“Falling asleep during work?” you teased, your voice soft and playful.  

“Falling asleep with you,” he corrected, his smile audible in his words.  

It wasn’t long before exhaustion claimed you both, your head tucked under his chin and his cheek resting against your hair. The quiet hum of the tent became a comforting cocoon, and time seemed to stretch and blur.  

The sound of muffled laughter stirred you from sleep, pulling you out of the warm haze. You blinked against the light, realizing you were still tucked into Pedro’s chest, his arms holding you close even as he began to wake.  

“Don’t move,” a familiar voice called. You turned your head to see Paul Mescal standing a few feet away, phone in hand, his grin wide and mischievous.  

Next to him, Coco Ullrich smirked as she aimed her phone at the two of you. “We’re documenting history here. You’ll thank us later.”  

Pedro stirred, squinting at them through his grogginess. “Seriously?” His voice was raspy, a mix of sleep and disbelief.  

Paul shrugged, grinning even wider as he showed Pedro the photo. “We couldn’t resist. Look at this. It’s like a promo poster for the most annoyingly sweet rom-com ever.”  

Pedro glanced at the photo, then at you, and laughed softly. “We should use that for the holiday cards this year.”  

You groaned, burying your face in his chest. “This is so embarrassing. They’re never going to let us live this down.”  

Coco laughed, flipping through her photos. “Oh, it’s way too late for that. I’m sending this to the group chat and the PR team. They’ll love it.”  

“Please don’t,” you pleaded, your voice muffled against Pedro’s shirt.  

Paul tilted his head dramatically. “Why not? It’s just a little fun. Besides, you two are giving us all cavities with how sweet you are. We’re suffering.”  

Pedro smirked, holding you a little tighter. “You’re suffering? Sounds like a personal problem.”  

“Alright, alright, enough!” A gravelly voice interrupted, and you looked up to see Ridley Scott standing at the edge of the tent. His hands were on his hips, but the amused twinkle in his eye gave him away.  

“Ridley,” you started, your cheeks flushing with heat. “I’m so sorry—”  

He held up a hand to stop you, his smirk growing. “Don’t apologize. If anything, I should thank you. Pedro’s been suspiciously well-behaved since you arrived. But,” he added with a pointed glance at Pedro, “if this keeps up, we’ll have to rename the film The Gladiator and the Muse. Production’s going to take twice as long.”  

The crew burst into laughter, and you buried your face back in Pedro’s chest, groaning. “This is officially the most embarrassing moment of my life.”  

Pedro chuckled, his hand brushing gently over your back. “Embarrassing? Nah. You’re the best thing about being here.”  

You peeked up at him, your cheeks still warm, and saw the sincerity in his eyes. “You mean that?”  

“Every word,” he said, his voice soft. “You make everything easier, better… you make it all worth it.”  

Your heart swelled, and a small smile broke through your embarrassment. “Okay,” you whispered. “I’ll try to believe you.”  

“Believe me,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.  

Paul groaned, breaking the tender moment. “Someone get a camera crew. We’re turning this into a reality show. Lovebirds in the Desert.”  

Pedro laughed, finally standing and pulling you to your feet. “Careful, Paul. You might not survive the sequel.”  

Ridley clapped his hands, his voice carrying over the lingering laughter. “Alright, lovebirds, enough stalling. Let’s get back to work! Pedro, we’ve got a fight scene to shoot.”  

Pedro gave you one last reassuring smile before winking. “Don’t go far. I’ll need more luck soon.”  

You nodded, watching him head back to set, and felt a sense of warmth that no amount of teasing could dampen. As you stepped out of the tent, the desert sun shining overhead, you knew this moment—this strange, beautiful mix of chaos and love—was one you’d carry with you forever.

OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO – EVENING  

The rooftop restaurant was like something out of a dream. Lanterns hung delicately from wrought iron fixtures, casting warm, flickering light over the table as the sun dipped below the horizon. The air was cool but pleasant, carrying the faint scent of jasmine from a nearby garden. Below, the city of Marrakech stretched out in an intricate maze of rooftops and twinkling lights, the hum of life soft and distant.  

Pedro had arranged everything, from the secluded corner table to the small vase of your favorite flowers waiting when you arrived. He always had a way of making even the simplest moments feel like magic.  

“Look at this view,” you murmured, leaning against the wrought iron railing as the sky turned from gold to a deep, dusky pink.  

Pedro stood close behind you, his hand resting gently on the small of your back. “The view’s got nothing on you,” he said softly, the teasing lilt in his voice balanced by the sincerity in his eyes.  

You laughed, shaking your head as you turned to face him. “That’s a terrible line.”  

“Maybe,” he admitted, grinning as he pulled out his phone. “But it’s true. Hold still.”  

Before you could protest, he snapped a photo, catching you mid-laugh as you tried to dodge the camera. “Pedro!” you groaned, your cheeks warming.  

He chuckled, looking at the photo with a self-satisfied smile. “Perfect. Might frame this one.”  

“Stop it,” you said, trying to grab the phone from him, but he held it out of reach, his grin only widening.  

“Never,” he replied, his free hand reaching across the table to take yours. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, and his gaze softened. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”  

Your stomach fluttered at the way he said it—no teasing this time, just quiet, earnest affection.  

“Now you’re just being unfair,” you muttered, trying to hide your blush.  

Pedro leaned forward, his head tilting slightly as if to study you closer. “Not unfair. Just honest.”  

You rolled your eyes playfully, but your heart was pounding. In a bid to regain some ground, you grabbed your own phone and quickly snapped a picture of him just as he brought your hand to his lips. The resulting photo was unfairly good—his lashes long, the lantern light catching the gold in his eyes, the softness in his expression making your chest ache.  

“Got you,” you said triumphantly, holding up the phone.  

Pedro laughed, his thumb brushing over your knuckles again as he met your gaze. “Now we’re even?”  

“Now we’re even,” you confirmed, though your grin gave away how smug you felt.  

The waiter arrived with dessert just then—a delicate plate of Moroccan pastries accompanied by a small bowl of honey and almonds. You both leaned forward at the same time, reaching for the same pastry, and burst into laughter when your fingers brushed.  

“Go ahead,” Pedro said, gesturing gallantly.  

“Such a gentleman,” you teased, breaking off a piece of the pastry and dipping it into the honey. You held it up to his lips, your pulse skipping when he leaned in without hesitation.  

“Delicious,” he said, his voice low and warm. “But I think it tastes better coming from you.”  

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, trying to suppress a smile as you took a bite yourself. The flaky pastry melted on your tongue, its sweetness perfectly balanced by the honey.  

As you shared the dessert, your conversation drifted from playful teasing to the little things that filled your days. Pedro told you about a funny moment on set earlier when Paul had forgotten his lines and improvised something so absurd even Ridley couldn’t stop laughing.  

“And then,” Pedro continued, his grin infectious, “he tried to blame me, saying my face was too distracting.”  

“Well, he’s not wrong,” you teased, earning a dramatic roll of Pedro’s eyes.  

“Oh, so now you’re on his side?”  

“I’m on the side of the truth,” you said, popping an almond into your mouth.  

Pedro chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”  

Your smile softened, and you leaned your chin on your hand as you looked at him. “Probably still charming everyone who crosses your path.”  

“Not like this,” he said, his tone suddenly serious. He reached across the table again, his fingers lacing with yours. “You make everything better. You make me better.”  

Your throat tightened at the rawness in his voice, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, his words settling deep in your chest.  

“You do the same for me,” you said quietly.  

The soft music playing in the background faded into the hum of the city as the two of you sat there, the world narrowing to just this moment. Pedro brought your hand to his lips again, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before resting your joined hands on the table.  

As the night stretched on, the two of you continued to talk about everything and nothing—your favorite childhood memories, the places you wanted to visit together, the little quirks you loved about each other.  

When it was time to leave, Pedro stood and extended a hand to help you up. “One last picture before we go?” he asked, his phone already in hand.  

You nodded, letting him pull you into his side. The lanterns glowed softly behind you as he kissed your cheek just as the camera clicked.  

Looking at the photo, you smiled. It was perfect—just like this night, just like him. 

L’HÔTEL MARRAKECH, MOROCCO – EVENING

The golden hues of the evening sun had long faded, leaving the hotel suite illuminated only by the soft glow of warm, ambient lighting. Laughter filled the room, bubbling up between stolen glances and playful teasing. Pedro leaned against the edge of the plush sofa, his hand resting casually on his hip as you doubled over with giggles at another one of his overly dramatic impressions. 

“I’m just saying,” he said with a grin, holding up his hands in mock innocence. “If anyone here is getting an Oscar for Most Entertaining Human, it’s me.”

You rolled your eyes, swatting at him lightly. “You? Entertaining? Please. You’re just lucky I think you’re cute.”

“Just cute?” he teased, his voice dropping into a low, mock-hurt murmur. He stepped closer, tilting his head. “That’s disappointing.”

And just like that, with no warning, he took your hand and spun you gently into his arms. There was no music, no sound but the faint rustle of the curtains and the muted hum of life outside your window. But to Pedro, there was no need for anything more. 

“Dance with me,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath, pulling you flush against him.

“Pedro,” you started to protest, but the way he was looking at you—so earnest, so unguarded—stole the words from your lips. He rested his forehead against yours, his arms wrapping around you like he was afraid to let go. 

“You are the reason I can breathe,” he murmured. His voice cracked slightly, raw and unfiltered. “The reason I can survive.”

Your chest tightened, and your hands gripped the soft cotton of his shirt as you closed your eyes. Slowly, the two of you began to sway, side to side, as if the universe itself had orchestrated this silent melody just for you.

“Pedro,” you whispered, tears threatening to spill as the weight of his words sank deep into your soul. “You don’t have to—”

“Shh.” He cut you off gently, his lips brushing the crown of your head. “I want to. You’re my safe place.”

Together, you moved as one, the world outside forgotten. The phones were switched off, the curtains drawn, and for a moment, it felt like time had ceased to exist. All that mattered was this—his arms around you, your head resting on his chest, and the way his heartbeat felt steady and strong beneath your cheek.

“What’s easy is right,” you whispered suddenly, echoing words your mother had once said. The truth of it struck you in that moment, how being with Pedro never felt like a choice—it was instinct. Like breathing. Like coming home. 

Pedro smiled, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “What’s easy is right,” he repeated softly. “Then I guess it’s easy to know... I’m going to love you forever.”

You laughed softly, though the lump in your throat made it difficult. “Forever’s a long time.”

He tilted your chin up, his warm, brown eyes crinkling at the corners with a quiet joy. “Not nearly long enough,” he said, his voice a low promise. “You’ll be my best friend until we’re old and gray. And even then, I’ll still love you.”

There was something in the way he said it—so simple, so sure—that your knees nearly gave out. But as always, Pedro was there, holding you steady, keeping you close. 

This is how you fall in love, you realized. Not in a blaze of fireworks, but in the quiet moments where you let go and they hold you up. 

“Do you know what you’ve done to me?” Pedro said after a long silence, his voice filled with wonder. “You make my stomach ache with hope. You make my hands stop shaking. I wake up smiling now, and it’s because of you.”

You bit your lip, your fingers tracing lazy patterns across his chest. “Pedro…”

“No, listen to me,” he insisted, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “Love isn’t supposed to be heavy. It’s not supposed to hurt. It’s supposed to be this. Us. A safe place. A hand to hold through every storm.”

His words broke something open inside you, and you nodded, letting the tears spill over. “You’re my safe place too,” you whispered. “You make me believe I deserve this.”

Pedro pulled you closer, resting his chin on the top of your head as he swayed you gently. “You deserve everything,” he murmured. “Every laugh, every sunrise, every stupid little joke I’ll tell for the next fifty years.”

You both laughed softly, the sound mingling with the quiet hum of the room. The world outside could wait. For now, all that mattered was this moment—this love that was soft, steady, and unshakable.

Right from your hips to your cuticles, you were everything to him, and he was everything to you. Wherever you both went, it was heaven. And neither of you ever wanted to leave. 

Steam filled the bathroom, the warmth clinging to the mirrors and wrapping around the two of you like a soft cocoon. Pedro stood under the cascade of water, droplets running down his broad shoulders and soaking his messy curls. His eyes flicked toward you, a tender smile tugging at his lips as you stepped closer, your fingers gently reaching for the shampoo bottle.  

“Turn around,” you said softly, motioning for him to face away from you.  

“Yes, ma’am,” he teased, though there was a hint of shyness in his voice as he obeyed.  

You lathered the shampoo between your hands, your touch careful and affectionate as you worked it into his hair. His curls were soft and damp beneath your fingers, the grays glinting like silver in the dim light.  

“I love your hair,” you murmured, your voice reverent.  

Pedro let out a small, self-deprecating chuckle, tilting his head back slightly. “The gray makes me look old.”  

You paused, your hands stilling in his hair as you leaned around to catch his gaze. “Stop that. It doesn’t make you look old; it makes you look distinguished. And I happen to love every single one of these.” You tugged playfully at a curl for emphasis.  

He gave you a sheepish look, his lips twitching as he fought back a pout. “You’re just saying that because you’re stuck with me.”  

“Stuck with you?” you repeated, feigning outrage. “Oh, no, Pedro. I chose you—gray hair and all. And I’d choose you again. Every single day.”  

His pout softened into a smile, one so genuine it made your chest ache. “You’re too good to me,” he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple.  

��And you deserve it,” you countered firmly, finishing his hair with a rinse.  

When it was your turn, Pedro insisted on returning the favor, his hands gentle as he massaged the conditioner into your hair. His touch lingered, his fingers tracing the nape of your neck as he marveled at you.  

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice thick with sincerity.  

“Even covered in soap?” you teased, feeling heat creep up your cheeks.  

“Especially covered in soap,” he replied, leaning down to steal a kiss.  

The shower ended with a flurry of soft laughter and playful splashes, the two of you wrapped in towels as you padded into the bedroom. Pedro pulled on a pair of boxers while you slipped into one of his oversized shirts, the hem brushing the tops of your thighs.  

The two of you slipped into bed, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm, golden light over the room. The air smelled faintly of the lavender lotion you’d rubbed on your hands, mingling with the subtle hint of Pedro’s cologne that still lingered on his skin. He had one arm draped lazily over your waist, his other hand holding a book he’d claimed to be interested in, though his wandering eyes betrayed him.

A book rested in your lap, too, but you’d long given up on reading. Instead, you could feel his gaze flickering to you, watching you more than the words on his page. It was endearing, the way he thought you wouldn’t notice, how he never grew tired of studying you like he’d never quite figure you out.  

“You’re not reading,” you finally accused, peeking at him over the edge of your book.  

Pedro grinned, unabashed. He set his book down on the nightstand and scooted closer, leaning his head on the pillow beside you. “Can you blame me?” he said, his voice soft and teasing. His hand reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his knuckles grazing your cheek. “I’ve got the most beautiful view right here.”  

You rolled your eyes, trying to fight the warmth rising in your cheeks, but the smile that stretched across your lips betrayed you. “You’re ridiculous,” you murmured, nudging him lightly with your elbow.  

“And yet, you love me,” he replied with mock arrogance, leaning back against the headboard with a self-satisfied smirk.  

“Unfortunately for me,” you quipped, though your tone was dripping with affection.  

Pedro’s laugh filled the room, low and warm, wrapping around you like a blanket. You settled back into your spot, his arm tightening slightly around your waist, anchoring you to him. For a while, there was only the sound of pages turning and the occasional creak of the bed as one of you shifted.  

Eventually, the books were forgotten, abandoned on the nightstand as the room grew darker, the soft click of the lamp switch plunging you into the comforting glow of moonlight spilling through the curtains.  

Lying side by side, your head resting on Pedro’s chest, you let your fingers trace lazy patterns along the bare skin of his arm. But your mind wouldn’t quiet, and as the minutes stretched on, the thoughts bubbling inside you demanded to be voiced.  

“Okay, but really,” you began, your voice breaking the comfortable silence. “Why is ‘llama’ spelled with two L’s? Wouldn’t one be enough? It’s not like we say ‘Llama-la.’”  

Pedro let out a soft laugh, the sound rumbling through his chest beneath your cheek. He tilted his head down to look at you, his lips quirking into a smile. “Mi amor, I adore you, but it’s almost midnight. Go to sleep.”  

“I can’t until I solve this mystery,” you said with mock determination, lifting your head to look at him.  

He sighed dramatically, feigning exasperation. “Fine. Maybe the second ‘L’ is there to confuse aliens.”  

You gasped, sitting up slightly. “That makes so much sense! Like, imagine aliens judging us for eating cereal with milk.”  

Pedro chuckled again, his arm tightening around you to keep you close. “Cereal with milk is sacred,” he said, his voice heavy with playful conviction. “If aliens have an issue with that, I’ll fight them myself.”  

You grinned, turning to prop yourself up on your elbow so you could face him fully. “Okay, serious question. If you could ask someone anything and be guaranteed the truth, who would it be?”  

Pedro cracked one eye open, his other hand lazily resting on your hip. “I’d ask you why you’re so determined to keep me awake,” he deadpanned, his lips twitching with a suppressed smile.  

You laughed, nudging him with your elbow. “I’m serious!”  

“Alright, alright,” he relented, the mirth in his eyes softening as he considered your question. “I’d ask my third-grade teacher if she really lost my homework or if she just didn’t like me.”  

You burst out laughing, the sound muffled by the way you buried your face into his chest. “That’s what you’d waste your question on?”  

“Don’t judge me,” he said with mock indignation, his fingers trailing absent patterns on your back. “It’s haunted me for years.”  

Your laughter subsided into a warm giggle as you tilted your head up to look at him. “Fine. My turn. I’d ask my mom if she’s proud of me. Like… really proud. Not just the ‘I’m your mom, so I have to say it’ kind of proud.”  

Pedro’s hand stilled on your back, his gaze softening as he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “She’s proud of you, baby,” he murmured against your skin. “And so am I. Always.”  

The weight of his words wrapped around your heart, a comforting balm that eased the ache of self-doubt. You nuzzled closer, your fingers curling around his as you let the quiet stretch between you for a moment.  

Moments later, you broke the silence again, your voice a whisper in the dark. “When I was little, I thought my toys came alive when I wasn’t looking. Like Toy Story. Honestly, I still kinda think they do.”  

Pedro let out a deep laugh, his chest shaking beneath you as he pulled you even closer. “I wouldn’t put it past them,” he said, his voice warm with amusement. “Your stuffed bunny? Definitely a troublemaker.”  

You giggled, your heart feeling impossibly light as his hand returned to its slow, soothing patterns on your back.  

The conversation drifted into comfortable nonsense, the kind of midnight musings that didn’t need to make sense but brought a certain kind of intimacy only shared in the quiet hours of the night.  

Finally, as your eyelids grew heavy and your words faded into murmurs, Pedro pressed a lingering kiss to your temple. “Goodnight, mi amor,” he whispered, his voice soft and steady.  

In his arms, with the world outside forgotten, you felt safe. Loved. His heartbeat was the only rhythm you needed as you drifted into sleep, a love like no other holding you steady through the night.

[keferon]

Part 2 of Drift/Deadlock and Hot Rod playing air hockey with their remaining brain cells!

Ratchet desperately plays referee.

———————————————————————

The morning Sun was poking Ratchet in the eyes. He scrubbed one hand over his face while the other groped down the side of his recliner for the lever to drop his feet.

There was one more blanket on him than what he’d gone to sleep with.

Daw.

Ratchet needed something bitter immediately to compensate.

Rolling out of his chair with a patented old man grunt, Ratchet was about to get coffee when he realized there was a distinct lack of nitwits harassing him.

Ratchet could hear Hot Rod and Deadlock outside and turned heel to enforce some basic self preservation. He paused, and grabbed a broom for good measure.

Sitting crisscross on the pavement, Deadlock was rolling Hot Rod from one hand to the other and back again. The pilot alternated between somersaulting, sliding and swinging back and forth all while not breaking conversation.

“So you caught on fire and just kept fighting anyways?”

“Yup! Turned out to be an awesome way to get out of any grapple instant-“ Hot Rod huffed, tucking into another roll, “-taneoulsy!”

Ratchet cleared his throat and Deadlock instantly closed his hands around Hot Rod like a kid caught playing with something he shouldn’t have.

“Watcha got there?”

“Nuthin.” Said Deadlock.

“Nuthin.” Said Hot Rod, muffled.

Deadlocks face was twitching more and more the longer he tried to keep an innocent expression. He didn’t even bother trying to suppress the way his finales wriggled in clear amusement.

Hot Rods red mop of a head popped up between Deadlocks thumbs.

“Mornin Ratch! How’d ya sleep?”

Ratchet put the broom down, for now.

“I slept surprisingly well. And don’t call me Ratch.”

“Deadlock gets to call you Ratch! He also calls you HRUMF-“ Hot Rod was unceremoniously cut off. Deadlock frowning down at his re-clasped fists.

Ratchet couldn’t quite make out what his mech was muttering but it sounded suspiciously like “Little snitch.”

Before Ratchet could tell him to let Hot Rod go, both of Deadlocks finales snapped back with a twinned sharp CLACK.

“EUAGH.”

Deadlock whipped one hand away, shaking it vigorously while the other held Hot Rod upside down.

“He licked me!”

“And I’ll do it again!” Hot Rod yelled, tiny fists raised in victory.

Ratchet got the broom back out, “Kid, put him down. Gently. And Hot Rod, stop fucking licking people.”

Adequately humbled by threat of bristly doom, both dipshits complied.

Hrmph.

“Okay, Roddy, you know the drill before I’ll let you you head back to base.”

Hot Rod sighed in overdramatic resignation before plopping his butt on an often forgotten picnic table that got more use from spiders than humans. Deadlock rested his chin on his un-licked hand and watched curiously.

Ratchet appreciated that, though he wouldn’t admit it. Deadlock was always quiet and thoughtful while Ratchet worked. Kid had an uncanny talent for anticipating what Ratchet needed and picked up on when the bioengineer worked beyond his limits. Well, tried to work beyond his limits.

Since Deadlock started living with him, Ratchet never got away with overworking anymore. He was a big fella with a fearsome temper that dissuaded most folks from pushing him. Previous challengers that tried to force Ratchet to maintain a work-life balance usually gave up on him around the same time the first throwable object goes sailing towards their face.

Deadlock just snorted and put his foot down.

Literally.

He put his foot on top of a piece of particularly contentious machinery that had been driving Ratchet up the wall, refusing to move until he agreed to a “Power Nap” that ended up lasting 6 hours.

Ratchet snorted at the memory and pulled out a pen light as he started Hot Rods physical.

“Hey how far do you think you could throw me?”

Ratchet felt his soul sigh.

“Dunno, couple hundred feet? You’re pretty light.”

“Do not encourage him.” If Ratchet got any satisfaction from Hot Rod wincing as he checked his pupil dilation, then that was his business.

“Okay, but what if I was in a roll cage? It’d be heftier to throw AND safer. Ratchet! You could even design one so it’s definitely up to spec!”

Ratchet was going to get an ulcer from second hand stupid.

He pinched the bridge of his nose very hard before speaking, “You want me to make you a human sized hamster ball so Deadlock can bat you around like a spoiled house cat?”

“Yeah!”

“No!”

Hot Rod mumbled dejectedly to himself while Ratchet tested his range of motion. Once satisfied, Ratchet moved onto the question’s section.

“Alright Roddy, any headaches?”

“No.”

“Nausea?”

“No.”

“Balance issues?”

“You saw me do a whole gymnastics routine on a giant vampire-space-robot.”

“Hrmph. Light headedness?”

“No.”

“Lapses in consciousness?”

“Sleeping count?”

“Hot Rod.”

“Joking! And no.”

“Blurry vision, ringing in the ears or sensitivity to light or noise?”

“Nope, nope, and nope! I’m fine Ratchet!”

“I’m fine Ratchet? You know how many currently dead pilots have said that to me?”

“Well, Pharma signed off on-“

Ratchet slammed the penlight down on the cracked wood table with more force than necessary, making both the pilot and the mech jump.

“Pharma is a conceited piece of SHIT and the only thing his ‘Sign Off sheets’ are good for is WIPING. MY. ASS.”

Ratchet forced air through his nose. Both Deadlock and Hot Rod frozen in place, wide eyed and tense.

Shit.

Ratchet broke the unintended stare down by scrubbing a hand over his face. He should really shave.

“Sorry. You’re not in trouble. It’s just-“

“Pharma.” Hot Rod finished. “It’s okay doc, I get it. You got waaaay higher standards than him. S’why I keep coming back. I trust you. And I know no matter how bad things get you’ll always have our backs, and we’ll have yours.”

It was moments like these that reminded Ratchet of why he wanted to fight for people like Hot Rod.

“Plus,” Hot Rod leaned towards Deadlock and yell-whispered dramatically. “He’s been a huge asshole ever since Ratchet dumped him.”

It was moments like these that reminded Ratchet of why he wanted to strangle people like Hot Rod.

“Stop phrasing how I left the mecha program like that. It wasn’t just Pharma I had issues with.”

Ratchet tucked his penlight away and ignored the murderous plotting he could feel wafting off of Deadlock. Don’t kill my “ex” coworker was still a rule in effect until further development.

“Last question. Any weird pressures?” Ratchet did finger quotes around the last two words and waited.

Hot Rod was about to automatically say No again but stopped short, and visibly did a mental check of himself.

“Uh, kind of around my stomach and the top of my thighs?”

Ratchet hummed, “Alright, pull up your shirt a little.”

Hot Rod did as he was told, just above the waistband, Ratchet could see some mild day old bruising.

“Yep, that’s what you get for flinging yourself through a car window instead of using the door ya dingbat.”

Ratchet straightened up and appraised the pilot one more time.

“Alright, make sure you put some ice on that when you get back. Otherwise you’re good to go.”

Hot Rod pulled his shirt back down and broke into a grin.

“Thanks Ratchet! See you guys again soon! Don’t do anything awesome without me until then okay?” Hot Rod pointed back to Deadlock for that last bit and waited until he said “On my life!” before finally driving off with a wave goodbye.

—————————

They had each finished their breakfasts, oatmeal and horrible alien blood respectively, when Ratchet said “I need to talk to you about something.”

Deadlock tensed, plating pulling in close before loosening again. Kid probably thought he was in trouble but could tell immediately that Ratchet wasn’t upset with him. He wasn’t sure how the mech did it, but damn if it didn’t make talking to him easier.

“What’s up?” He wiped quintesson gunk from his mouth.

“You gotta be careful with Hot Rod. You really cannot feed into any crazy ideas he has because he will get hurt and it will be by accident.”

Deadlock pinned his finales back and crinkled his nose. “I was careful Ratch. I did everything the way you taught me. I didn’t pick him up by the head, didn’t squeeze him too hard or nothin. And I was ready to stop at any second the moment he said anything hurt!”

“Kid.” Ratchet rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s the thing. He can’t.”

Deadlock tilted his head, “What do you mean?”

———————————————————————

It’s getting real late again and I’ve already resigned myself to making this a three parter.

This time on the Trio of Friendship and Bad Ideas: Deadlock gets to play with a human slinky, Ratchets looses his sanity and something is up with Hot Rod.

Secrets of the mecha programs side effects will be revealed! Next time.

- SSTP

The way I legitimately can't stop smiling while reading this.....

The way your writing feels like a beam of pure joy flashbanging me through the screen. I can't evenKTYLGMNFHD I DONT FUCKING KNOW WHAT ARE YOU ADDIND IN YOUR WRITING BUT THIS STUFF IS ADDICTING PLEASE KEEP IT UP 👁

Also the mental image of Roddy being a human equivalent of a fidget toy for Deadlock is so entertaining I couldn't resist drawing it jfyjncfh

Roddy still doesn't have a design...oh well........

[d-z20]

The Agent Next Door part 3 (NSFW)

Pairing: Agent Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: When a ghost from Rio's past resurfaces, the safe haven you’ve built together is threatened. As danger edges closer, your bond deepens in unexpected ways, testing your trust and strength in each other. Amidst fear and uncertainty, you discover just how far both of you are willing to go to protect what matters most.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, angst, smut, fluff ending, fingering (R recv), oral (Rio recv), praise kink, slight power bottom Rio

Words: 4.2k

A/N: The angsty third (and final?) part as promised

AO3 | Part 1 | Part 2 | Master List

Under Her Protection

You’re sprawled out on Rio’s couch, nestled comfortably against her side as the TV plays in the background. It’s the kind of night you’ve both come to love—no plans, no rush, just the two of you together, half-watching some crime drama. You can feel the steady rise and fall of her chest as you rest your head there, her arm slung casually around your shoulders, fingers absently tracing patterns on your arm.

It’s a rare, peaceful moment, one that you’ve started to cherish more and more. You glance up at her; she looks different like this—softer. The usual tension in her jaw has melted away; her sharp features relaxed in a way you rarely get to see. You smile to yourself, the sight of her at ease filling you with a quiet kind of joy. She’s not just the composed, authoritative FBI agent you first met. Here, she’s Rio—your Rio—and you could watch her like this forever.

You press a kiss to her jaw, feeling her smile against your lips.

“Enjoying the show?” she asks, her voice teasing. You know she couldn’t care less about what’s on the screen, but it’s a running joke between the two of you—mocking the exaggerated, overly dramatic FBI agents depicted on TV.

“Oh, absolutely,” you drawl, playing along. “I just love how accurate it all is. Clearly, every case is solved in a day, and all agents wear heels and leather jackets.”

Rio chuckles, pulling you closer. “It’s ridiculous,” she snorts. “Half of this would get thrown out in court in a heartbeat. And don’t even get me started on the ‘enhance the grainy footage’ bullshit.”

You grin, enjoying the rare, playful side of her. “I bet you’d never pull a stunt like that. The great Agent Vidal would never dream of cutting corners.”

She raises an eyebrow, her smirk sharp. “Oh, you’d be surprised what I’ve pulled off. Sometimes rules are more like... guidelines.”

You laugh, leaning into her, and she squeezes your shoulder lightly. For a moment, everything feels easy—peaceful.

Then her phone buzzes, cutting through the quiet. She lets out a small sigh and picks it up, her expression immediately shifting as she reads the message. The shift is so sudden it makes your stomach drop. Without a word, she gets up and walks to the window, peering through the blinds like she’s expecting to see something—or someone—out there.

“Rio?” You ask cautiously, sitting up. “What’s wrong?”

She doesn’t answer right away, her shoulders visibly tense. Finally, she lets the blinds fall back into place and turns to you, her expression grim. “That was work,” she says, her voice low and controlled. “Someone I put away years ago just got released on parole. He... wasn’t supposed to get out this soon.”

You frown, confused. “Why is that a problem? Didn’t he serve his time?”

Her jaw tightens, and for a moment, you think she won’t answer. Then she sighs, running a hand through her hair. “The last time I saw him, he threatened to ruin my life,” she says quietly. “He’s dangerous. And vindictive. If he finds out where I live... who you are... how much I lov—.”

She doesn’t finish the sentence, but she doesn’t have to. The implications hang heavy in the air. You swallow hard, suddenly very aware of the weight of her job and the risks that come with it.

“Hey,” you say softly, standing and moving to her side. “I’m sure it’s fine. He probably doesn’t even know you’re here.”

Her eyes meet yours, and for the first time since you met her, you see real fear there. “Maybe. But I can’t take that chance.” She pauses, her hand brushing your arm. “I want you to stay here. At least until I figure out what’s going on.”

The seriousness in her tone leaves no room for argument, and you nod. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

You settle back onto the couch together, but the atmosphere has shifted now, an unspoken tension lingering in the room. Rio keeps her phone close, her other arm wrapped protectively around you, her eyes flicking back to the window every so often.

You try to focus on the TV show, but your thoughts keep drifting. It’s unsettling, this shadow of a threat hanging over the two of you, and you can tell Rio feels it too. Her grip on you tightens every time she hears a noise from outside, her thumb rubbing circles against your arm as if she’s trying to soothe both of you.

Eventually, you turn your head to look up at her. “You know, I don’t need a TV show when I’ve got my own personal action hero right here.”

Rio snorts, shaking her head. “Is that what I am now?”

“Yep,” you say, grinning up at her. “Neighbour, fashion critic, and now... bodyguard.”

She rolls her eyes but leans down to press a kiss to your lips, soft and lingering. “Just stay close, okay?”

You nod, your heart fluttering at the protectiveness in her voice. “I’m not going anywhere, Rio.”

Relief flashes across her face, but it’s fleeting. She takes your hand, leading you to her bedroom without another word. The silence between you is heavy but not uncomfortable—it’s charged, humming with unspoken worry and a need for closeness.

When you get to the bed, her hands are on you immediately, tugging you close. There’s a new intensity to her touch, her fingers gripping your hips firmly, almost possessively. She kisses you hard, like she’s trying to stake her claim, her mouth moving with an urgency you’ve never felt from her before.

“Rio—” you start, but she cuts you off with another kiss, her hands sliding under your shirt, nails raking up your skin. Her lips move to your neck, sucking and biting hard enough to leave marks that you know will last. It’s not just passion—it’s something deeper, rawer. Like she needs to prove to herself that you’re here, that you’re hers.

You let her take the lead, your own hands roaming her body, trying to reassure her in your own way. But she’s relentless, her mouth trailing lower, her teeth grazing your collarbone. She pushes you back onto the bed, her weight settling over you as she pins your wrists above your head.

Her gaze is dark, her eyes searching yours. “I need to know you’re safe,” she murmurs, her voice rough. “I need to feel it.”

You nod, your heart pounding in your chest. “I’m not going anywhere,” you whisper, and it’s the truth.

Her grip on your wrists tightens briefly before she leans down, kissing you again, slower this time but no less intense. 

The night is a blur of heated touches and whispered reassurances, her possessiveness never crossing the line into discomfort. Instead, it leaves you breathless, the depth of her need for you pulling you even closer.

When you finally fall asleep, tangled in her arms, the weight of her protectiveness wraps around you like a shield. Even as your mind drifts, you know this is only the beginning of whatever storm is coming. But with her by your side, you’re ready to face it.

—

You’ve been staying at Rio’s apartment for a week now, and every night, her hold on you seems to grow tighter. Even in her sleep, her arms remain locked around you, as though her subconscious refuses to let you out of her grasp. It’s a level of protectiveness you’re not used to, but you can’t deny how safe it makes you feel.

The days are a strange mix of normalcy and subtle unease. You run errands, cook together, and share quiet moments on her couch. But in the back of your mind, there’s always a faint sense of being watched. You’ve chalked it up to paranoia—Rio’s warning had a way of sticking with you, and you tell yourself you’re just imagining things.

Still, it’s hard to ignore the nagging feeling when you start seeing the same person more than once. A tall figure with a hood pulled low over their face, lingering at the edge of your vision. You’ve seen them on the street, at the corner store, and now again as you leave the grocery shop, arms full of bags. You glance over your shoulder, your pulse quickening as you catch sight of them just a few steps behind.

You quicken your pace, gripping the bags tightly. Your heart pounds in your chest as you cut across the street and head for the apartment building. You take a chance and glance back again. They’re still following.

By the time you reach Rio’s apartment door, your hands are shaking so badly you almost drop your keys. You fumble with the lock, finally getting the door open and slamming it shut behind you. You lock it, bolting the deadlock for good measure.

You text Rio immediately: I think I was followed. Just got back. Door locked.

The response comes quickly. Stay put. Don’t answer the door for anyone. I’m coming back now.

You breathe out, trying to calm yourself, but as you read her words, a new sound sends a chill down your spine. A faint rattle at the door.

Your stomach drops, and you freeze, staring at the door as the sound grows louder. It’s not your imagination. Someone’s trying the handle. Your mind races, and you grab the closest thing within reach—a table lamp. It’s not exactly a weapon, but it’ll have to do. Your grip tightens on the lamp’s base as the rattling stops, replaced by a loud bang.

The door crashes open, splintering the frame, and the hooded figure steps inside. They’re taller than you thought, their broad frame filling the doorway as they pause, scanning the room. You take a shaky step back, your heart pounding in your ears.

“Well, well,” he says, his voice dripping with malice. “Look who’s made themselves right at home. You must be the little pet she’s been keeping around.” 

Your mind races, and you instinctively take a step back, trying to put the kitchen island between you and him. “Who the hell are you?” you demand. 

He smirks, leaning against the doorframe. “You don’t know me, but Rio does. She’s the reason I spent the last ten years rotting away in a cell. Thought I’d pay her back by taking something she cares about.”

He lunges at you with a knife, and you barely manage to swing the lamp, hitting him across the face. He staggers back, but only for a moment, then charges at you again. You fight back, kicking and screaming, but he’s strong—stronger than you expected. He pins you against the wall, one hand around your throat. 

“That’s right, scream for her,” he growls. “Let’s see if she gets here in time.” 

You’re gasping for air, your vision blurring, when suddenly, the already broken door is rammed open again, falling off its hinges from the force of the action. 

Rio barges in, her gun drawn, her expression a mixture of fury and fear. “Let them go,” she says, her voice deadly calm, the kind that promises retribution. 

The man tightens his grip on you, pulling you in front of him as a shield. “Shoot me, and you’ll hit them,” he taunts. 

Rio’s eyes meet yours, and you can see the raw, helpless anger there. You’ve never seen her look so terrified.

The man tightens his grip on you, and your vision starts to black. Your pulse pounds in your ears, the lack of air making your limbs feel heavy. Rio stands frozen in the doorway, her gun unwavering, her eyes locked on the man holding you.

“Let them go,” Rio repeats, her voice low and seething with barely restrained fury.

The man smirks, his grip loosening just enough for you to gasp for air. “You really think you’ve got the upper hand here, bitch? You’re so predictable—always running to play the hero.”

Rio doesn’t flinch. “This is the last chance I’ll give you. Let. Them. Go. Now.”

He sneers, then suddenly shoves you away with all his strength. You stumble, hitting the edge of the kitchen counter hard before crumpling to the floor, pain flaring in your side. Rio’s shout of your name echoes through the room, but you can barely focus as you clutch at your ribs, trying to steady your breathing.

The distraction is all Rio needs. She lunges at him before he can turn back to her, knocking the knife from his hand as they crash to the floor. The struggle is brutal—a chaotic blur of punches and grunts as Rio fights with a ferocity you’ve never seen before.

He manages to pin her briefly, his hands going for her throat, but Rio uses the momentum to roll them over, her knee pressing into his chest. She grabs the cuff of his wrist and twists him onto his stomach, forcing him to let out a pained shout as she pins his arm behind his back.

“You should’ve let them go,” she growls, forcing his face against the floor. He thrashes beneath her, but her grip is unrelenting, her strength fuelled by sheer fury.

She pulls her cuffs from her belt, snapping them onto his wrists with a finality that fills the room. She grabs his hair and yanks his head up, knee still pressing into his back. “And now you’re going to pay,” she says coldly before smashing his face into the ground, breaking his nose, and knocking him unconscious.

Her eyes flick to you, her expression softening with worry. “Are you okay?”

Before you can answer, Rio pulls out her phone, calling for backup. Her voice is calm and clipped as she gives the necessary details, but her free hand remains clenched at her side, still shaking from the adrenaline.

When the call ends, she crouches next to you, her hands ghosting over your body, careful not to touch the areas where you’re clearly in pain. “Hey, let me see,” she murmurs, her tone gentle now. “Where are you hurt?”

You wince as you shift, trying to sit up. “Just... my side. Think I hit the counter pretty hard.”

Her jaw tightens, and for a moment, you think she might explode all over again—but she just exhales, brushing a hand over your hair. “Backup’s on the way. He’s not going anywhere. I promise you’re safe now.”

You nod weakly, and she leans closer, her forehead briefly touching yours. The tension in her body doesn’t ease until the distant wail of sirens signals that help has arrived. Even then, her focus stays on you, her protective presence a shield between you and the man who dared to threaten what she holds most dear.

With the chaos finally under control and the intruder hauled away in handcuffs, Rio keeps a steady arm around you as she guides you back across the hall to your apartment. You can still feel the tremors in your hands, the echo of fear and adrenaline in your veins, but her presence is grounding.

As the door closes behind you, she doesn’t let go. Instead, she leads you to the couch, sitting beside you with her arm securely around your shoulders. “You okay?” she asks softly, her fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from your face.

You nod, leaning into her touch. “Yeah. Just... processing.”

A flicker of guilt crosses Rio’s face. “I never should’ve left you alone.”

“You couldn’t have known,” you reply, reaching up to squeeze her hand. “And you came back in time. That’s what matters.”

She exhales heavily, her arms tightening around you protectively. For a while, neither of you speak, the silence broken only by the rhythmic sound of her breathing. Then she shifts, her thumb brushing against your knuckles. “I mean it, though—I’m not letting you out of my sight for a while.”

You roll your eyes but don’t argue. The truth is, you don’t mind the idea of her staying close.

As the evening wears on, you begin to feel a sense of normalcy returning. Wrapped in her arms, you finally let your guard down, the weight of the day melting away. You tilt your head up to meet her gaze, your heart skipping as you notice the way she’s looking at you—soft yet intent.

“You’re staring,” you tease, your voice quiet.

“Can’t help it,” she murmurs, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. “You’re kind of hard to look away from.”

Your cheeks flush, but before you can respond, her lips capture yours in a kiss that’s slow and deliberate, like she’s savouring every moment. You respond eagerly, your fingers tangling in her hair as she shifts to deepen the kiss.

Somehow, the two of you end up lying on the couch, her body pressing against yours as your hands roam freely, exploring the familiar territory with renewed fervour. She pulls away just long enough to catch her breath, her forehead resting against yours. “Bedroom?” she whispers, her voice husky.

You nod, your heart racing as she helps you to your feet. The walk to the bedroom is brief, but each step feels charged with anticipation. 

You guide her to the bed, her hand sliding into yours as you both move with an unspoken understanding. She lets you press her down gently so she’s sitting on the mattress, her signature smirk tugging at her lips. “So, this is how it’s going to be tonight?” she teases, her voice low, challenging but still laced with warmth. Her eyes glint with curiosity, though you can sense she’s enjoying this shift in control. “Guess I can let you take the lead. Just this once.”

You can’t help but laugh softly, leaning down to press a playful kiss to her lips. “Call it a thank you for saving me. Hero perks, right?” You reply, your voice just as teasing.

Her chuckle rumbles low in her throat as her hands settle lightly on your hips, grounding you. “You’ve got an interesting way of saying thanks,” she murmurs, tilting her head to expose her neck—an invitation and a challenge all at once. “But I’m not complaining.”

You take her challenge with a grin, leaning down to press your lips to her neck, your kisses starting soft but quickly growing more heated. You find the spot just below her ear where her skin is most sensitive, and when she lets out a low, pleased hum, you focus your attention there. Your tongue darts out, followed by a sharp nip of your teeth, before you suck on her skin, leaving a mark to match the ones she gave you just nights ago.

She tilts her head back with a soft gasp, her fingers tightening their grip on your hips. “You’re getting good at that,” she murmurs, her tone teasing but breathless. Her words spur you on, and you trail more kisses down her neck, each one deliberate, each one claiming her in your own way.

As your lips continue their path, your hands slide over her body, unbuttoning her shirt and tugging it off. Your eyes roam her, taking in every inch of her toned body and the way her muscles flex under your touch.

“Enjoying the view?” she teases, arching a brow, but there’s a flush on her cheeks that betrays her confidence.

“Absolutely,” you reply without hesitation, earning a quiet laugh from her.

Your hands move to the waistband of her pants, your fingers brushing against her skin as you pull them down, leaving her bare before you. You grab her hips, pulling her into you so she’s perched on the edge of the bed, your legs pushing her knees further apart. Her dark eyes meet yours, filled with a mixture of anticipation and challenge, and you can’t help but feel a surge of affection and desire for her all at once.

“You look good like this,” you say softly, your hands trailing up her thighs as you kneel between them.

Rio leans back on her palms, her smirk widening. “Show me just how grateful you are, sweetheart.”

Looking directly into Rio’s eyes, you drag your tongue through her wetness. 

“That’s it,” she breathes, her voice huskier now. Her nails coming to dig lightly into your shoulder as her body shifts beneath you. 

Hooking your arms under her legs, you push your face further into Rio, tongue pressing firmer against her clit and she rolls her hips at the sensation. Your tongue swirls over and around her bundle of nerves, eliciting more praise. “You’re so good at this, sweetheart,” she says, her tone uncharacteristically tender.

The praise makes your stomach flip, and you press your thighs together, feeling your arousal soak your underwear.

You notice the subtle change in her demeanour, her usual teasing grin replaced by something softer, more vulnerable. Her hands grip you tightly, but there’s a gentleness to her touch you hadn’t expected. “I don’t give up control often. But with you... it feels right.” Her voice falters slightly, and the admission makes your heart ache with tenderness.

As her orgasm builds, she finally lets go entirely, her usual defences falling away. Her head tilts back, her breathy praises and quiet gasps filling the space. After she reaches her peak, she pulls you up to her, her arms wrapping around you tightly as if grounding herself. “You’re incredible,” she whispers into your ear, her lips brushing against your temple as she catches her breath. “But don’t think I’m done with you yet.”

Her smirk returns, this time sharper, more determined. Before you can respond, she drags you down on to the bed, flipping you gently onto your back. Her strength is firm but careful, her lips curling in amusement at your surprised expression. “Your turn,” she murmurs, her voice low and promising. She begins to trail kisses down your body, her actions deliberate and knowing. “Let me show you how grateful I am,” she adds, her grin growing as your body arches beneath her touch.

With that, she strips you, her soft hands feeling all over your body. When her fingers trail up your thigh, she lets out a soft chuckle at the feeling of your arousal dripping. “Seems like someone enjoyed the praise.” 

You whimper as her fingers press lightly against your clit.

“You made me feel so good, baby.” Her middle finger slides lower. “Such a clever girl.” She teases your entrance. “You know exactly how I like it.” She pushes her finger in.

“Yes, fuck, yes,” you moan as it curls inside you. “More.”

Rio slides another finger in, biting her lip and groaning at how easily you take it. "Oh, darling, you’re taking me so well,” she praises, starting to pump her fingers in and out. She adds a third, and you feel the familiar tightening in your stomach. She picks up the pace, fucking all of the tension from the night out of you both. “You look so good like this,” she coos.

Arching into her touch, head pushing into the mattress, you keen, “Oh fuck. Rio, you’re going to make me cum.”

“That’s it, sweetheart; you’re doing so well, cum for me,” she whispers against your skin, kissing your neck.

Your mouth falls open, a breathless cry escaping as your orgasm overtakes you. The tension that had been building within you shatters, a wave of heat and pleasure coursing through your body. You arch into her, every nerve alight, the sensation so overwhelming that it renders you momentarily weightless. A strangled gasp follows, your voice raw and unrestrained, her name slipping from your lips like a plea and a prayer all at once.

—

Later, as the two of you lay tangled in the sheets, Rio’s arms wrap tightly around you, holding you, refusing to let go. The tension of the night seems to fade, replaced by a sense of closeness you hadn’t fully realised until now. She presses a kiss to the top of your head, her fingers tracing absent patterns along your back.

“You know,” she begins softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t usually do this—let people in, I mean. I don’t let myself feel this way.” She hesitates, her grip on you tightening slightly. “But with you... I can’t imagine not having you here.”

Your chest tightens at her words, and you tilt your head to meet her gaze. The raw vulnerability in her eyes makes your heart ache. “Rio...” you begin, your voice trembling slightly as your hand brushes against her cheek. “I love you.”

Her lips part in surprise, and then her smile grows, soft and genuine in a way you rarely see. “Took you long enough to say it,” she teases, though her voice is thick with emotion. She leans down, brushing her lips against yours in a kiss that’s slow and tender. When she pulls back, her eyes lock with yours. “I love you too, you know.”

You crack a small smile. “So, I guess you’re gonna be the one crashing at my place now, huh? Seeing as it’s your door that got kicked in this time,” you say, breaking the tender moment.

Rio blinks at you, then lets out a soft laugh. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Not a chance,” you reply, grinning now.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Happy 6k!!!! That’s so exciting and you deserve it :)

Can I request Bucky & touch starved?

.⋆｡Small Adjustments｡⋆.

Bucky Barnes x plus size reader

To Bucky, touch brought with it pain and suffering but maybe it can be different with you

Warnings:  touch starved!Bucky, fluff, mutual pining, mention of torture, bit of hurt/comfort WC: 1.3k

6k Follower Celebration Bingo

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

It was an unspoken agreement amongst the Avengers that under no circumstances was Bucky to be touched. There were one too many instances of him lashing out at even the smallest of touches and after Peter’s arm was almost broken when he grabbed Bucky’s shoulder to steady himself after tripping, the rule was firmly set in place. 

Touch had always been the harbinger of pain to Bucky. He had experienced and survived thousands of experiments; he knew the difference between acids just based on how much they burned him when they made contact with his skin. He knew what it was like to be ripped apart from the inside out as he was stitched back together while fully conscious. Bucky’s nerves were permanently scarred with each and every moment of pain, ensuring that he would never forget what he had gone through. Needless to say, he appreciated the physical distance the Avengers afforded him, even if it did make his chest ache sometimes.

He saw the friendly touches between them all— a hug after a hard mission, a clap on the back during training, even the occasional platonic cuddling during movie nights and he couldn’t help but be envious, especially when it came to you.

You were, by far, the most affectionate person he had ever met. You didn’t hesitate to wrap yourself around anyone who needed a hug, your hand was quite frequently clamped with someone else’s (Natasha’s or Wanda’s more often than not). You weren’t selfish with your touch and though it could be deadly thanks to your training, Bucky knew that you would never hurt the people you cared about.

“Barnes~ where are you!” Bucky’s lips curled into a gentle smile as your voice floated through the hallway, immediately brightening up the entire building.

“I’m in the kitchen, doll!” He shouted back before your footsteps quickened and you burst into the room. Your eyes, although still bleary with sleep even though it was 2 in the afternoon, positively sparkled as soon as you spotted the ex-assassin. Bucky raised an eyebrow at you, and you flustered slightly, looking down at what you were wearing.

“I thought I lost that shirt.” 

“Yeah well don’t leave your stuff out if you don’t want someone to steal it.” You shrugged as you skipped over to the pot of fresh coffee still sitting in the machine.

“I seem to remember putting that shirt away, in my closet, in my locked bedroom.”  Bucky took a sip of his own coffee.

“I don’t know what to tell you, I think old age is finally getting to you.” You tried to hide your warming cheeks behind your mug but he could see right through you.

“Whatever you say doll.” A comfortable silence settled over the both of you for a moment before you cleared your throat.

“So… we have the place to ourselves today,” Bucky knew what was coming, “wanna binge-watch Supernatural with me?” You looked up at him with such a hopeful expression on your face, it made his heart skip a beat.

“I don’t know, I was planning on going for a long run today.” His voice tilted up but in your post-sleep haze, you couldn’t pick up on the shift in his tone. Immediately, your eyes dropped and your bottom lip poked out. Bucky’s stomach flipped and suddenly all he wanted to do was to scoop you up into his arms and kiss away your pout. Instead, he blurted out quickly, “Hey, hey. I was just teasing. Of course I’ll watch with you. Gotta see what Sean and Dan get up to.”

You sniffed. “It’s Sam and Dean and you know it. Don’t pretend you’re not as obsessed as I am.” The band around his heart loosened.

“Yeah sure. You want Chinese or Thai?” He fished his phone out from his pocket.

“Like you even have to ask.” You retorted.

——————

You felt like you were sitting next to a feral cat as the food coma finally set in. Empty boxes of food were scattered around the coffee table in front of you while yet another episode started up but it wasn’t as if you were paying any sort of attention to the screen in front of you.

Somehow, during your feast of questionable takeout, Bucky had migrated from where he had been perched on the other side of the couch to sitting beside you, the thick muscle of his thigh almost touching your knee where you were curled up. His blue eyes stayed glued to the TV while he sighed heavily and leaned back into the couch cushions.

You held your breath as his shoulders dropped, leaving barely an inch of space between you. This was the closest Bucky had ever gotten to you and you would be damned if you fucked this up. Of course you knew about his aversion to touch, you had even witnessed his violent response to it first hand but Jesus did you want to feel the heat of his skin, the strength of his body as he hugged you.

Bucky was undoubtedly your best friend out of all the Avengers yet he was the only one to have never felt your embrace. 

Your body trembled as you tried to keep yourself still. You didn’t want to accidentally brush against him and send him scrambling off but you also didn’t want to move away and give him the impression that you didn’t want him near you. And selfishly, you did want him beside you if only to fuel your hopeless crush on the man. 

There was a gunshot on the screen, startling you. You jumped and suddenly, you were half on top of Bucky. 

Your palm spread across the expanse of his stomach, letting you feel the hardness of his abs and the warmth that radiated off of him. The tip of your nose brushed against his as your eyes locked. You both stayed there for a second before the reality of the situation hit you squarely in the chest.

“Oh god Bucky I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.” You threw yourself back against the arm of the couch as panic bubbled up in your gut. Bucky remained frozen where he sat, both his hands slightly raised as he looked down at his lap. “Bucky I-“ Your voice was thick with tears. 

You shook your head as you pressed the heels of your palms to your eyes, desperately trying to keep them away. How stupid were you? You knew you should’ve just given him some more space, paid attention to the TV so you would know if something would startle you. Do literally anything else besides jumping on the man with severe trauma. You messed everything up.

“Doll,” Bucky cooed as his hand gently wrapped around your wrists, slowly pulling them down so he could look at you, “I’m not mad.”

“You’re not?” He chuckled softly, now bringing your hands into his lap so he could hold them.

“How could I ever be mad at you? I know it was an accident but more than that, I know you would never want to hurt me. I’m safe with you.” You could feel the slight tremble in his hands like he was struggling to keep touching you but Bucky refused to let go, he even shuffled closer to you. You nodded but stayed quiet. He finally smiled. “Besides, I think it’s time I got one of those famous Y/N hugs. Not now of course, I’m way too fucked up for that, but soon.”

“Don’t be mean to yourself Barnes,” you scolded, “lots of people hurt you. You get to be patient with healing. We just make small adjustments, build up to it y’a know.”

“Yeah, small adjustments.” His right hand slid into your left, your fingers intertwining as you both melted back into the couch, your eyes drifting back to your show that neither of you would be paying any attention to. After a few minutes, Bucky’s thumb began to rub against the skin of your knuckles, a delicate back and forth that both sent a flurry of butterflies into flight in your stomach and ignited your cheeks with a blazing heat.

Small adjustments indeed.

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[mattscoquette]

car sex with bsf!matt

it was currently 2:34 a.m., you were out late driving with your best friend matt. neither of you were able to sleep, so you both decided to just drive around for a bit. it began to drizzle when he picked you up, it now full on down pouring. matt could barely see the road three feet ahead of him, even with the windshield wipers on high.

“you wanna just pull over?” matt suggested, glancing in your direction. you nodded as he pulled off into the shoulder, turning into a target parking lot that was luckily right where you guys were. he found an empty spot, putting the car into park and relaxing, his legs spreading slightly. you couldn’t help the throbbing between your legs, matt looking a little too good tonight. sure, he was your best friend, but you would be lying if you said you hadn’t had a couple fantasies about him now and then. he wore a grey t shirt that he cut to make fall right above his hips, the red waistband of his boxers showing underneath his plaid bottoms. you subconsciously drew your bottom lip between your teeth, eyeing him up and down. you were snapped out of your thoughts when you saw matt ducking his head down and waving at you to get your attention.

“sorry,” you muttered, looking up to meet his gaze as he smirked at you, “what did you say?”

“i asked if you were good, you just like zoned out.” he said, leaning against his seat and looking at you.

you nodded, turning your body to face him, drawing your knees to your chest. “yeah, just tired is all.”

he chuckled. “get cozy, sweetheart, i don’t think the rain is letting up any time soon.”

sweetheart. the nickname instantly went straight to your core, soaking your panties.

“anything you suggest we do then?” you smirked, watching matt as he eyed you up and down.

“maybe,” he whispered, leaning in a little closer, his arm now resting on the middle console in front of you, “do you?”

your mouth hung agape for a moment, quickly closing it and re adjusting yourself, so you now sat on your knees, your face inches away from matt’s. the only sound heard was the quiet yet heavy breathing coming from the two of you, and the hard sound of rain against the van. matt’s hand reached up, holding your cheek softly as he scanned your face. “this okay?”

you nodded slowly before feeling matt’s lips crash against yours in a hard kiss. your arms quickly wound their way around his neck, tilting your head to the side to deepen the kiss. you felt matt’s hand move from your face down to your waist, sneaking underneath your tank top and gripping it firmly to pull you in more. you gasped at the gesture, allowing matt to slip his tongue into your mouth. you let him take control of the kiss, feeling the both of your tongues swirl around as you messily made out. you broke away for a moment, breathing heavy while matt’s hand stayed on your hip. he quickly pulled you over the console, placing yourself on his lap while his lips quickly found their way to yours again.

the both of you continued to make out, growing needier and needier by the second as the windows began fogging. matt’s hands moved from your waist to your ass, grabbing the flesh harshly due to the easy access from your short pajama bottoms. he began helping you grind down onto his clothed erection, the both of you moaning from the friction.

“bet you love this, don’t you?” matt mumbled against your lips, feeling his cock throb. “fucking getting off on your best friends leg, hm?

“yes,” you whimpered while matt began to kiss down your neck, leaving purple hickeys in his wake.

you continued to rut your hips against matt, grinding down in slow circles. “fuck baby if you keep doing that ‘m gonna cum in my pants.”

you whined at his comment, continuing your actions as you brought your hand down to matt’s jaw, bringing his lips back up to yours. it was a mess of teeth and tongue, the two of you moaning into one another’s mouths while you continuously rocked your hips against matt’s. he brought his lips back down to your neck, groaning loudly while he finished, holding your hips against his still while he rode out his high. “shit,” he mumbled underneath his breath.

before you could even process it, matt’s one hand slipped beneath your shorts, pressing against your clit through your underwear. “so fucking wet for me,” matt sighed into your neck, teasingly running his finger along your wetness “all this just from grinding?”

you nodded, your brain turning to mush as you felt matt pull your panties to the side, plunging his middle and ring finger in your dripping center. his rings were a cold contrast against your skin, causing you to moan loudly at the sensation. his fingers thrusted in and out of you while his thumb stayed at your clit, rubbing it in small teasing circle. “can’t imagine how you’d act taking my dick.” he taunted.

“mm, matt,” you whined, bucking your hips against his fingers while you felt his lips feather kissed up your neck before meeting yours again.

“what, close already?” he pouted as he pulled away from the kiss, faux sympathy coating his raspy voice, “i’ve barely even touched you sweetheart.”

a loud moan pulled from your throat, you throwing your head back. “please matt,” you panted, “i wanna cum.”

“yeah, pretty girl?” matt spoke, his thumb now rubbing faster at your clit as he continued to slot his fingers in and out of you. you nodded, whining loudly as your hips subconsciously grinded down on his hand. “go ahead, baby, give it to me.”

you practically screamed, moaning loudly as you coated matt’s slender fingers in your arousal. he continued to finger-fuck you through your orgasm, pulling his fingers out and popping them into his mouth, sucking the juices off. he smirked as he pulled you in for another open-mouthed kiss, you tasting yourself on his tongue.

you both pulled away, breathing heavy as the windows were now no longer see-through from the body heat you two were emitting. the rain continued to pour hard on the car, causing matt to smirk. “round two?” he asked, pulling you into his lips once more.

© mattscoquette

[alisonsfics]

back in chicago - part 2

pairing: ex-boyfriend!carmy berzatto x reader

summary: after years in germany, you return to chicago and immediately run into your ex-boyfriend. if you thought it’d be easy jumping back into your old life, you were wrong. new people had entered carmy’s life, including a new woman, but you were still everything to him.

word count: 3.2k

part 1 / part 3 / part 4

After giving everybody at the Bear a chance to change out of their dirty clothes, you all headed out to the parking lot since Richie had suggested a night at the club.

“Alright, how you wanna carpool?” Marcus asked Richie, since they were the only two with cars.

“My backseat is full of shit, so I only got room for one.” Richie said, scanning the group for volunteers. In true matchmaker fashion, you pushed Maria towards Richie.

“Alright, cool. Maria’s with me, you got everybody else?” Richie asked Marcus as he slid his arm around Maria’s shoulders. You and Maria made eye contact, and she rolled her eyes at the giddy look on your face.

“Sounds good. Tina, shotgun?” Marcus asked, opening the passenger door for her. Tina was the mother of the group, which meant she got the best treatment and none of the teasing.

Tina thanked Marcus and got in the car. That left you, Carmy, Nat, and Sydney in the back seat. Nat and Sydney went to the left side to get in.

Carmy headed towards the back right door and got in, so you wouldn’t have to sit in the middle. Nat was on the far left, then Sydney, and then Carmy.

Carmy scooted as far over as he could, allowing you to get in. You squished next to him, but couldn’t close the door. “Here you go,” he said, moving his arm to rest on the seat behind you. You readjusted and scooted closer to him.

“You all good back there?” Marcus asked.

“Marcus, your car is too damn small to squeeze four people back here.” Sydney said, causing you all to laugh. You successfully got the door to close, but you were almost in Carmy’s lap.

You made eye contact with Nat, who was smirking at the both of you. The entire side of your body was pressed up against his. “This remind you of anything?” You whispered quietly to Carmy.

His cheeks turned bright red as you referenced your first date. Carmy had taken you to a concert in his small beat-up car. The date ended with you both hooking up in the tiny backseat and then getting kicked out by security.

Your phone lit up in your lap with a text from Maria. It read: “Sticking me in a car with Richie? You’re never gonna give up are you?”

“I wasn’t the only one who saw that between them? Richie was checking her out in the parking lot.” Carmy said, softly, almost making you jump.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to snoop,” he mumbled after seeing your reaction. You shook your head. “You’re like five inches away, so I don’t think it counts as snooping.” You joked, making him chuckle.

“Yeah, I saw you nudge her in the parking lot. Good thinking,” he complimented. Giggling in the backseat with Carmy and trying to set up your friends felt so familiar and made you feel back at home.

“I swear, something’s there. They just haven’t admitted it yet. I mean, they’re both single. And you should’ve seen Maria’s face when she saw Richie for the first time tonight. It was like she was a teenager again, and she was blushing like crazy.” You told him, not realizing how closely Richie and Maria’s situation mirrored yours and Carmy’s.

As you both chatted, you and Carmy naturally gravitated closer to each other. One of your legs was now resting on top of his, and his arm was now casually wrapped around your shoulders.

Neither of you noticed Nat take a picture of you both and send it to Maria and Richie with the caption: “I think something’s happening👀”

You all pulled into the club parking lot and poured out of the squished car. You noticed the buckle on your shoe had come undone when you got out of the small car.

“Oh, shit,” you mumbled, picking your leg up and trying to fasten the buckle. Balancing on one leg while wearing heels was more difficult than you thought it would be.

You wobbled and almost fell. Carmy quickly reached out and grabbed your arms, steadying you. Watching out for you was an instinct for Carmy. “Thank you,” you bashfully thanked him as you held on to his arm for balance and fixed your shoe.

Richie and Maria got out of Richie’s car with giant smiles on their faces. “Looks like they had a good time reconnecting,” Carmy leaned in towards you and whispered.

“I always told you that they were perfect for each other,” you told him, smiling as you watched your friends. Carmy faked a shocked face. “Don’t pretend like I ever doubted you. I always knew you were right. You were right about most things.” He told you, chuckling to himself.

“I was always right,” you teased, pretending to be offended. Carmy held his hands up in surrender. “You’re right, I’m sorry.” He apologized, with a smirk on his face.

Maria nudged Richie, gesturing towards you and Carmy. They both shared a knowing glance after seeing the giddy smiles on your faces.

You all went into the club and ordered some drinks. You walked over to where Maria and Sydney were chatting. “How was your car ride with Richie?” You asked, smirking at her. Maria huffed and jokingly rolled her eyes.

“Wait…are you and Richie like…?” Sydney asked, not knowing how to finish the question. Maria quickly shook her head no. “Don’t listen to her. They had a little fling back when me and Carmy were together, went their separate ways, and now they’re both single again.” You corrected Maria.

“You know what? You get you some. Go for it. You guys would be cute.” Sydney said, jumping on the bandwagon.

“Oh, and you. We have to get you to come out with us more often. We can never get Carmy to come out drinking with us, but apparently if you’re here, he’s down for anything.” Sydney said, smirking at you. You felt your cheeks heat up as you thought about what she was implying.

The three of you girls kept talking for a while. You told Sydney about Germany. Sydney filled you both in on some of the restaurant drama. You all got along really well.

“I’m gonna run to the bathroom, but I’ll be right back.” You told them before heading towards the lobby. You knew that while you were gone, Maria would definitely let Sydney know about all the details about yours and Carmy’s relationship. You quickly went to the bathroom, thankful there was no line.

Meanwhile, Carmy had snuck out into lobby after getting a call from Claire. “Hey, baby. What’s up?” Carmy asked, cluelessly.

“I just got your text. You guys are at a club? I thought we were seeing a movie tonight. Your old girlfriend comes back to town, so now you have to go drinking?” Claire asked, infuriated.

“Oh, shit. I completely forgot about the movie. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.” He apologized quickly, but Claire wasn’t impressed. “That’s bullshit, Carm. Are you still fucking hung up on her?” She asked.

Carmy hesitated.

“No, it’s nothing like that.” He argued. He wasn’t necessarily lying. He truly was too in denial to believe that he still had feelings for you.

“Fuck you, Carm. Why can’t you just tell me the truth? You wouldn’t have hesitated if the answer was actually no.” Claire screamed at him.

When you came out the bathroom door, your ears were met with screaming. You recognized the voice as Carmy’s.

You froze when you saw him standing alone in the lobby on the phone. His face was bright red, and his hair was messy, like it always was when he got upset.

Your presence in the room caught his attention as his eyes quickly met yours. “Sorry,” you mouthed, trying to quickly sneak past him and back into the club. He quickly shook his head, trying to assure you that had nothing to be sorry for.

“Yeah, you know what? Fuck you too.” Carmy yelled into the phone before hanging up.

“Wait up,” Carmy called after you, grabbing your wrist to stop you.

“I’m sorry that you had to hear that. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He apologized, sweetly. You just nodded your head, all too aware of the fact that he was still holding onto your wrist.

“You okay? That sounded pretty intense.” You asked him. He shrugged like it was nothing. He didn’t want you to worry. “It’s fine. Just some life stuff. I could use a smoke though, if you wanna join.” He offered.

You nodded and accepted his offer. It felt like old times.

He let his hand rest on the small of your back as you both walked towards the front door. You stepped out into the cold Chicago air.

“It’s still crazy being back here.” You said, scanning the city skyline.

“It felt like a big part of Chicago was missing when you left.” Carmy told you as he lit his cigarette. You admired him as he stood under the streetlight.

“So, are you back for good?” Carmy asked, trying to not sound desperate like he was begging you to stay. You nodded. “This feels like where I’m supposed to be. Germany was good, but it was not meant to be forever.” You said, reflecting on your terrible last few weeks in Germany.

“Did something happen?” He asked you, concerned. You hesitated before answering. “I got fired and dumped by my ass of a boyfriend in the same day, so it could’ve been better.” You replied, keeping your eyes fixed on the ground.

Carmy didn’t know what to do. He wanted to comfort you, but he was still so unsure of how to act around you.

He settled for a middle ground and held his cigarette out to you. You giggled at the gesture, before taking it between your fingers.

After blowing a small cloud of smoke, you handed it back to him. He stuck the cigarette back between his lips and realized he could taste your strawberry chapstick on it.

He wanted to kick himself. It was like he was suddenly a teenager again and remembering kissing you under the bleachers.

“I’m sorry about the job and the guy. He sounds like an asshole.” he apologized, distracting himself from how much he wanted to kiss you, even though he definitely shouldn’t be thinking about that.

“You don’t know anything about him,” you said, giggling to yourself. Carmy paused, realizing you were right and shrugged. “Yeah, but I trust your judgement.” He said, looking over at you.

He dropped his cigarette on the ground and stomped it out. “You wanna head back inside?” He asked, earning a quick nod from you as you had started getting chilly.

As you walked back inside, you both saw Richie standing by a table with beer pong set up. “Yo, cousin, come play,” Richie caught your attention and called Carmy over.

You returned back to where everyone else was standing around a table. After a while, your conversation was interrupted when you heard someone call your name. You turned around and saw Carmy gesturing for you to come over.

“What’s up?” You asked, curiously. He grabbed your hand and slid the ping pong ball into it. “I have one shot. If it goes in, Richie loses. You’ve always been better at beer pong than me.” He said, letting his other hand rest on your back. The few drinks he’d had were definitely making him a little more affectionate.

“I still think this is against the rules, cousin.” Richie complained, remembering all the times you’d beaten both of them at beer pong.

You tossed the ball, and it sunk right into the cup. Your hands shot up in the air in victory. Carmy quickly picked you up and spun you around in a circle. You rested your arms on his shoulders, so you wouldn’t fall down.

“Carmy. I want to talk to you.” You both heard from behind Carmy.

Carmy quickly put you back down on your feet. You looked over his shoulder and saw Claire, who you vaguely remembered from high school. You walked over to Richie’s side of the table, sensing a tension that you didn’t want to be apart of.

“Is that Claire from school?” You whispered to Richie. He looked down at you and nodded. You watched as Carmy pulled Claire off to the side to talk to her.

“Shit, Richie. Are they together?” You asked, feeling a pit in your stomach.

Richie froze after hearing the words leave your mouth. “Oh, fuck. Yeah, I thought you knew.” Richie said, empathizing with how you were feeling. He rubbed his hand on your back, trying to comfort you.

You ran your fingers through your hair, feeling sick to your stomach. Then, all of a sudden, Claire was yelling again.

“What? I can’t hang out with you and your friends? Do you not want to be seen with me? Or is it because she’s here?” Claire asked, pointing at you.

“Richie, I can’t do this.” You said, pulling away from him and walking past the whole group, who was now staring at you. You bit down on your lip, trying to keep the tears from forming.

You snuck up to the second floor loft level of the club that overlooked the dance floor below. It was quieter upstairs, and you needed quiet.

You sat down on one of the couches as a few rogue tears rolled down your cheeks. You felt so stupid for thinking you could pick up where you left off with Carmy.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw someone walk up to you. You looked up and saw one of Carmy’s coworkers.

“Can I sit?” He politely asked you. You quickly nodded. “Yeah, of course. You’re Marcus, right?” You asked. He nodded and shook your hand.

“I don’t want to intrude, and I know all this history with Carmy is from before I even knew him, but I wanted to see if you wanted to talk about anything.” He offered, giving you a soft smile.

“Thank you. That’s a really sweet offer, but I don’t even think I’d know where to start.” You said, laughing at how pathetic you must have seemed.

Marcus stayed by your side. He didn’t say a word, but he waited until you wanted to talk.

“I think I just feel lost. I got the job offer in Germany, and I almost didn’t take it because I didn’t want to leave Carmy. But he told me I couldn’t turn it down, so I lived in Germany for five years. I had a great job. I met a guy. Then, I lost it all in a day, and so I thought maybe I was never supposed to leave Chicago.” You started explaining.

“I came back to Chicago, and it felt right. Like this was where I was supposed to be all along. Then, completely by Maria’s planning, I ran into Carmy again. It felt natural. It didn’t feel like he hadn’t seen each other in five years. Then, I find out he’s with Claire, and now she’s pissed at me when I had no idea in the first place. I just feel so stuck, like everywhere I go, I’m fucking cursed or something.” You said, wiping away a few tears.

“Well, I promise, you’re not cursed. It’ll all be alright. I think you coming back just threw Carmy for a spin. He wasn’t expecting it at all. But you shouldn’t feel guilty because none of that is your fault. That’s between Claire and Carmy to figure out.” Marcus comforted you.

“Thank you. That makes me feel a lot better. All I have to do now is get over my ex-boyfriend for the second time. But I’ve done it before, so I can do it again, right?” You joked, trying to make the best of the situation.

“There you go,” Marcus said, chuckling, “I’ll leave you alone now. You know where to find me.”

You sat up there for a few minutes in silence. You stood up and looked over the railing at your friends below you.

You didn’t see Carmy anywhere and assumed he was somewhere with Claire.

That was until you saw him walk up beside you. He gave you a soft smile, not knowing what to say yet.

“I’m sorry about all of that. You didn’t deserve to get dragged into that.” He told you, sincerely. You smiled back at him. “It’s alright. I understand.” You told him.

There was silence between the two of you for a few minutes. Neither of you knew what to say to fill the silence. You both were also worried that you’d somehow make it worse by saying the wrong thing.

Even if it was just in a friendly capacity, you were glad to have Carmy back in your life.

Down below you both, you saw Richie run towards the dance floor and start dancing as Love Story by Taylor Swift played.

A small giggle escaped from your lips watching the pure joy on his face. “I have fucking missed Chicago.” You said. It felt like a scene out of a movie, reunited with your best friends in your favorite city.

“Chicago has missed you,” you heard Carmy mumble beside you.

In a split second, he was grabbing your waist and kissing you. You instinctually kissed him back, while your arms snaked around his neck. You twirled his hair around your fingers as he kissed you.

You felt like you were on another planet. You couldn’t hear the club music anymore and could only hear your heart racing in your ears.

Carmy tightened his grip around your waist, so you both were pressed up against each other. There wasn’t an inch of space between you, and you didn’t want there to be.

One of Carmy’s hands crept lower down your back, cupping your ass. You gasped against the kiss, shocked by his hand placement. You could feel him smirk. Nothing made Carmy cockier than watching the effect he had on you.

Moving his arms back to your waist, Carmy started to nudge you backwards towards the wall. Your back leaned against the cold concrete wall.

It brought you back to reality, and you realized what you were doing.

You quickly put your hands on Carmy’s chest and pushed him away. “We can’t…Claire,” you reminded him.

“Oh, shit,” Carmy mumbled, running his hand through his hair. You tried to catch your breath. You could feel your heart rate rising as the panic set in.

“I’m so sorry…I shouldn’t have,” you rambled, trying to quickly walk past Carmy. He quickly grabbed your wrist to stop you. “It’s not your fault. I kissed you, and I shouldn’t have. I don’t know what I was thinking.” He apologized.

“We can’t tell anybody.” You told him, frantically. He quickly nodded, experiencing a similar panic to your own.

You raced back downstairs. Once you got out the front doors, you started sprinting towards your apartment. You needed to get away from there as fast as possible.

You finally arrived at your apartment. You checked your phone and saw a text from Maria that she’d be spending the night at Richie’s. You wanted to be happy for your friend, but your own love life was spiraling

You laid down on the couch and burst into tears. It felt like you laid there for hours, until you heard a knock at your door.

You opened it to find Carmy standing in front of your door.

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[glossgojo]

father mayhew x fem! detective reader the long awaited part-2

picking up right where we left off with part 1 you know the drill

2.2k words

i’m a sucker for some plot with p0rn, oral!fem receiving, riding, creampie, no protection don’t be dumb wrap it up, not proofread and i fear it will be obvious, lowkey yandere /they’re both down bad

the rational part of your mind told you to hightail it out of the church after you’d both fallen back on his bed sweaty and blissful. your body wasn’t cooperating, the haze of desire had clouded the stark reality of your legs being sore and the space between them aching, still leaking onto his sheets. charlie was clearly going through some kind of turmoil himself as he covered his face with his hands, shoulder pressed against yours as you caught your breath. you cleared your throat, thinking maybe it would be better to walk very slowly out of his room and back home. as soon as you tried to sit up one of his hands found your waist, “no please don’t go.” they were still warm and rough, the bandaid on his finger reminding you of how all this started. you had gotten too caught up, losing the reason you came here in the first place. maybe now was the time to get him to talk. you turned towards him and batted your wide eyes, charlie couldn’t help but do the same, his hand traveling up and resting in the dip of your waist.

“i don’t want to intrude.” you whispered it knowing that there was no point in it, you were the only ones there and from how loud you were earlier anyone who was nearby would know what you two were up to.

“you’re not i just-“ he closed his eyes, the vision of you in his bed, duvet barely covering you or the marks he left was a test to his faith all over again.

“go on,” your voice although siren-like soothed his hesitation.

“it’s the catholic guilt.” he muttered, half confessing and half ashamed of it.

“i think god will understand, you can blame me if it helps.” you tried not to find the situation ironic, he was built like a sex god and touting the sin of premarital relations. if it helped him open up you’d be the degenerate for him.

“no i don’t think i could, you look like an angel.” he said it without flinching, your lips twitched at the corner. the situation was laughable and later you’d definitely tell lois about it over some wine.

“what does that make you? the devil?” you brushed a piece of his hair back, unruly from all your tugging and nearly unrecognizable from how it usually looked, gelled back and pristine.

“in a way, yes.” you couldn’t believe that a modern man was so archaic in his thinking.

“i disagree, there’s nothing more human than succumbing to desire, no one is perfect, you can’t expect yourself to be either.” he rolled the words around in his mind, it was a nice sentiment but he was a priest he was supposed to be devoted to god and the faith alone. not the way your eyelashes fluttered or how your ankles felt on his shoulders.

“do we not all strive for perfection?” the pout on your lips was still there, it had been since he started this conversation and he wanted to kiss it away, he shouldn’t.

“you’ll always end up disappointed.” he leaned up on his elbow, looking down at you, lifting up the duvet to cover you up more, not that it helped his current situation.

“so what do you do?” his voice sent a chill through your spine, deep and gruff, like he’d just woken up. you imagined his voice would be enough to just get you off. you blinked away the thoughts, formulating a response to the best of your ability while looking into his espresso eyes.

“whatever i want, of course i have my own morality and i try to be ‘good’ but i know i’m not perfect.” religion had never led your morality, surely in some way it shaped it without your knowing, but you did what you thought was right.

“whatever you want? what do you want?” he could think of a few things he wanted, perhaps even needed, but you were involved in all of them.

“geez what a loaded question, hmm right now a shower and a snack would be nice, in general i want to help people.” he laughed at your response finding you even more endearing than before, you were so straightforward it was jarring. you watched the corner of his eyes crinkle. “what about you?”

“i want you.” he said it without a bat of his eyes like it was the most obvious answer in the world. you weren’t so nonchalant, lips parted in a small gasp and he tried not to smile at your reaction, tried not to let it etch into his bones.

“you have me.” you said it with all the conviction you could muster, it didn’t really take much if you were being honest because in that moment it was true. your legs were covered in him and the ache between them could only be filled by him. he’d haunt you for days if not weeks. your hands found their way to cradle his jaw before you knew what you were doing, titling his head down towards you, kissing him slow and gentle, as if he was a ghost. charlie thought you tasted sweet and the way you kissed him made his heart ache faintly in his chest. he moved on top of you, kissing you with an urgency you didn’t quite feel. you let him kiss you with desperation. his hands roamed down to your legs, parting them and bringing them to the side of his hips. you didn’t know if you could handle another round even if you clenched on air when his slightly hard cock rested between your chests. charlie had other ideas anyways, kissing down your neck, somehow knowing exactly where to nip at to get you to arch into him, kissing gently over the bite marks and bruises he’d left on your chest until he was under the covers, kissing at your stomach. and when he pressed another soft kiss to your clit you swore your heartbeat had moved south.

you throbbed against him, bucking into him gently as a soft whine of his name left your lips. when he licked down your slit, cleaning up his slick mixed with yours you sucked in a breath of air. it was so messy and he didn’t seem to care at all.

“this pussy is fucking divine.” he murmured under the cover of the duvet, licking your thighs clean next, nose bumping against your opening in the process making you clench on it. he didn’t mention that you smelled sweet too, he wished he could eat you for every meal of the day.

“s-such a dirty mouth.” despite your words your legs were parting more for him, he smirked against the soft skin of your thighs, holding your thigh open with a strong hand.

“might as well use it then huh?” before you could even think of an intelligible response he was delving his tongue into you with one of his fingers, pulling out everything he could as you gave, and gave, and gave. his fingers were already long and thick you knew that but the thick wet muscle of his tongue hammering into you, curling and slurping in a craze made you gush into his mouth. you imagined he was tasting himself there mixed with your cum and you felt a tinge of jealousy. his finger managed to find the spot that had you squirting earlier, his tongue quickly following and you pushed your hand up against the headboard, running from the sensation. charlie wouldn’t have any of that, tugging you by your legs right back where he needed you, in fact closer than before. his nose bumping against your clit as he fucked you on his tongue, as if you were a toy for his pleasure. the thought made you clench even harder on his tongue eliciting a groan from him, the vibrations against your core making you gasp. he was ruthless on your poor stretched cunt and just when you felt close he was pulling his finger and tongue out, playing with your puffy folds and blowing cool air on your throbbing clit.

“charlie-“ you gasped out, feeling your eyes starting to water at the desperation you felt to come.

“father.” he corrected you, clearly it wasn’t about respect, not like megan meant. you swallowed down the spit accumulating in your mouth and with it your hesitance.

“father mayhew please do something.” your voice sounded foreign, so desperate and whiny you almost cringed at it.

“so cute,” he murmured against your clit, kissing it once before licking at it, the rough pad of his tongue igniting every nerve in your body. two of his fingers pressed at your now drooling hole and you sighed in relief. he sucked at your clit as his fingers stretched you open, you were soaking his hand thoroughly practically dropping down the length of it. charlie knew he would smell you for days and when he didn’t he’d start missing it. your eyes wrung shut as you felt your orgasm approaching, the obscene sound of your gushing and his hand smacking against your wet skin filled the air as you started to see white behind your eyelids. you came so hard you were bucking up into him, shaking and squirming in his hold and he fucked you through it, cleaning up the mess you made of yourself and then his fingers. with one last kiss to your clit he lifted himself back up the length of you, kissing your lips and swirling your tongue with his, tasting the sin.

you felt like you were on a cloud, floating in pure bliss and charlie watched the way your eyelids fluttered shut when he pulled back. he’d let you sleep, in the meantime he needed to atone. you could feel him heavy and hot between your legs, clearly hard but not making any move to address it, the thought spurred on your need for more. you were surely addicted to him. his heady musk was starting to affect, you were being drugged by him and his body. you pushed at his shoulders he looked concerned as he broke off the kiss, you pushed a little more and he seemed to get the hint, falling onto his back and bringing you with him.

you straddled him, your clit bumping his hard cock, making you wince at the overstimulation. charlie pulled you along with him as he settled with his back against the headboard, his bare chest fully on display and you trailed a hand down his abs, resting on the small tuft of hair below his belly button. you didn’t know if you could take him again, but surely at your own pace it wouldn’t be too bad. at least that’s what you thought. when you were lifting up on your knees and lining him up, you still felt the stretch from just his tip.

“fuck.” charlie was on the brink of coming just from the sight of you struggling to take him. you had been so insistent on this and then in one second all your bravado went out the door. god he could just eat you up.

“need help baby?” you nodded your head weakly and he guided your hips down and you gripped at his shoulders. once you were down halfway you started to bounce up and down, trying to adjust to the pain. he felt so much deeper like this and you swore it didn’t hurt this much before. fortunately you were still dripping down his length, which helped with the friction and you could feel his precum dripping inside you. you set your own pace, grinding and moving up and down slowly. he wasn’t even fully in but the tight hug of your pussy was enough to make his eyes roll back, there was barely any room for him inside you and every twitch of his dick felt like a shock to your system. you got a bit braver, taking more of him as you leaned against him, his head was leaned back and you didn’t like how far he was, tugging him by his hair towards your lips. and that seemed to be the limit of charlie’s patience, the sharp feeling like some kind of trigger. he was kissing you back fiercely, biting at your lip as he snapped his hips up, filling you up and making you gasp into his mouth. your hole spasmed around him and he kissed you with a bloody devotion, snapping his hips as your own hips bounced down on him, a new mind breaking rhythm that ensured your legs would go weak. you were dripping down both of your thighs now, the force of his thrusts making your ass clap against his lap and you swore you were getting air from the force of his thrusts. it made the way he filled you up even more devastating, abusing your cervix and carving you out with every beat.

when it all became too much for him, he wove a hand between you both, pressing against your clit and made you come on his cock, milking him dry as he came with a few more thrusts up into you. even after he emptied inside you earlier he was still filling you up and leaking down onto his sheets, clearly pent up.

your body fell limp against him, he ran a hand down your smooth back, soothing you while he grew soft inside you. you didn’t think you could move and he didn’t really mind if you never did. you looked so beautiful on his lap almost as if you were made to be there.

[eddiazx]

emergency part 2 - evan buckley x reader

part 1 here!

Buck walks (note: speed runs) into the apartment an hour and a half later. He should’ve been embarrassed at how quickly he was able to fill the cup and drop it off at the desk of the clinic, but his mind was solely focused on getting back home to you and making good on his promise. He drops his duffel at the front door, and searches for any signs of you. 

You’re seated on the couch (the perfect couch, because you had picked it out with him), bare legs stretched out onto the coffee table in front of you. You’re wearing a set of blue lingerie that matched Buck’s eyes perfectly. You’re flicking through Netflix, not really paying attention to the trailers. At the thud of his bag hitting the floor, you turn your head at him, and your lips turn up in the most mesmerizing smile Buck had ever seen. 

Despite the sexual tension building up between you in the past few weeks, Buck is struck with a pang of fondness in his chest. You were beautiful, and he couldn’t believe his luck that he got to live life with you. 

“I ordered you a burger”, you say when Buck stands in front of you. You place your feet on the ground to make room for him to step in between your legs. 

“That’s sweet, babe, but I was looking forward to eating something else.” Buck replies, and picks you up from the couch like you’re weightless. He makes his way back to the kitchen, and unceremoniously plops you down onto the cold island. You hiss at the temperature, and Buck winces at you apologetically.

“Let me warm you up”, Buck consoles, taking one of your legs so that it could rest on his shoulder. He circles his fingers over your ankle and presses his lips onto the skin there. He continues doing this up your calf, your thigh, and stops just before the junction where your hip meets your leg. You protest, before Buck repeats the same ministrations on the other leg. Again, Buck stops at your clothed core.

You squirm at his teasing, and Buck takes pity on you. He hooks his fingers into your underwear and pulls it down, and he would’ve laughed at how quickly you help him kick it off if he wasn’t equally as aroused as you. 

Buck dives in enthusiastically. His nose bumps your clit repeatedly, while his tongue dips into you rhythmically. He groans in pleasure at your taste, the vibrations from his throat travelling from your core to every nerve ending in your body. When he adds two of his fingers in the mix, you know you're a goner. Your fingers are gripping onto Buck’s curls and within minutes your back is arching, and your thighs are tightening around Buck’s head. 

You pant, spent already, but Buck hauls you up again and makes his way up the stairs to the bedroom. He lays you in the middle of his bed, and makes quick work of his clothes. You bite your lip appreciatively, admiring his thick muscles. Though you do this and compliment Buck often, he still can’t help but blush under your watchful gaze. 

When Buck is down to his boxers, you sit up in bed and stop him with your hands on his. 

“Let me”, you say, before pulling them down in a similar way he did to you earlier. You hold his heavy cock in your hand, using the precum at the head to wet the rest of him, twisting your hand when it gets to the base. You pump him several times, and before you can take him into your mouth, Buck stops you, gritting out, 

“We’ll have time for that later, sweetheart. I just want to be inside you right now.” 

You nod, and pull Buck onto the bed. You straddle him, and he rubs his dick between your folds, the head snagging slightly onto your clit, before pushing into you gingerly. For as long as you’ve been together, you don’t think you can ever get used to how big Buck is. 

When he’s fully seated in you, and the both of you relish in the feeling of finally being together, you start to ride him, trying to find the perfect pace. Buck reaches up with one hand to cup a breast through your bra, while the other reaches down between where you were connected to rub sensuous circles on your clit. You’re both so sensitive and on edge, that it doesn't take long before you come, walls tightening around Buck. Buck, without slipping out of you, flips you onto your back and pounds mercilessly, chasing his own high. You scratch your nails on his back lightly, which only spurs Buck to come hard and a lot. He falls on top of you, a welcome, heavy blanket in the form of Buck. 

Eventually he pulls out, both of you exhaling at the loss, and drops onto his back next to you. You’re thinking that the night is over, before Buck pipes up with, 

“Next round in the shower?” 

[quietstormxr]

Green Dragon

My first post out to the Tumblr universe. Here’s some angst between you and Xaden.

Let me know what y’all think! And if there should be a part 2!

The green dragon, but not your green dragon, have taken residence inside your heart and mind. Never before had you felt threatened in your relationship; however, something seemed to change the minute Violet Sorrengail entered the quadrant. Not only did your friends seem distracted by the girl, but you could feel him peeling away little by little.

As days and months wore on, it seemed that the interest that peaked in him as he withdrew from interest in you. At first, you figured it was the stress of the deal with her mother, then you realized that wasn’t it at all. He stopped visiting. He stopped paying attention to you. He stopped seemingly seeing you at all. To protect yourself, you began to pull away. You thought he would notice, but once threshing passed, it all seemed to be over. Xaden told you that he was just figuring things out due to the mating bond between Sgaeyl and Tairn and his life now being tethered to Violet’s, but it seemed there were more to things.

At that point, you had decided you’d pull back from everyone and see what changed. One night in December, you decided some fresh air was needed and that’s when your heart broke. There he was kissing her. His hands in her hair and pushing her up against a wall. You couldn’t believe the brokenness you felt. He couldn’t even come to you first and end things before moving on. The feelings of worthlessness and nothingness were enveloping you again. Watching the person that had driven those feelings from you drove the despair in deep and fast. The thought that the man you had picked you up from broken pieces could toss you aside so fast was the most heartbreaking thing you had ever experienced. From there on you knew that there was no going back, your relationship was done, and you were done pretending.

The next day, you couldn’t even look anyone in the eye. At breakfast Bodhi and Garrick both asked if you were ok, but you brushed them off and went to class. During class, Eya and Imogen tried to talk, but you just ignored them. Even though you weren’t a marked one, most all your friends were. You knew that since Xaden would never be abandoned, you would now be pushing them all away as well.

Being that Xaden seemed always busy with leadership, the revolution, and now Violet, it seemed you didn’t even have to have “the talk”. At least that is what you were hoping, until one day in January, he showed up at your door. You opened it a crack to see him standing there looking at you expectantly.

“I have nothing to say to you, Xaden.” You told him with a cold certainty.

He looked at you questioningly. You noticed the fight in his eyes, the only place he ever showed his emotions.

“I don’t want to fight with you about this, us, or whatever we were to each other. I know you’ve moved on and I would appreciate it if you would let me do the same.” You said. With that, you shut the door on him and slammed your face in your pillow.

‘It’s ok to protect your heart, Stormy One. I could always maim him in a place that would not anger Sgaeyl.” Cedri states.

‘Thanks for the offer, Cedri, but I’m not sure that would help.’

You were lucky that your dragon, though being a curmudgeon at times, always knew when to push you or comfort. Cedri was always there to bolster you in times of doubt and fear.

The next day, things seemed to change. Imogen, Eya, and even Soleil seemed to distance themselves from you. You didn’t mind, it seemed to make the process of moving on to pick up the pieces easier. It only seemed that they boys didn’t get the memo.

It was obvious that Xaden must have said something, as Garrick seemed to keep staring at you from the leadership table at breakfast. And it was on the way out from breakfast that Bodhi came up to you and asked if he could walk you to class. Due to the overwhelming exhaustion of your own feelings, you just said ok and let him walk you in silence. The most unusual part of the day came when Liam came up to you during dinner and asked if he could sit with you and your squad.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on guard duty, Mairi?” you asked with a look of pure confusion on your face.

“Well, yes. But I was hoping that maybe I could convince you to sit at our table.” He looked with a sheepish grin.

“Thanks, Liam. I think I’ll have to pass on that one.” How could he think that you would want to be anywhere near the girl that took your world away?

He walked away seemingly saddened by your answer, but you just stared back at him in disbelief.

It didn’t make sense that now they all seemed to be interested in what you were doing. You knew that Xaden would have told them what happened, well Garrick at least. Garrick would’ve informed the others.

The next few weeks passed by uneventfully enough. Your world seemed to find a new rhythm now that you had distanced yourself from your marked friends. You started spending more time with your three other squad mates and the change didn’t go unnoticed.

“Not that I’m complaining, but why have you started hanging out with us so much?” asked Nico pointing around the table between himself, Kai, and Iona.

You shrugged your shoulders and said, “Is that not ok?”

“Of course, its ok!” Nico said. “We are all glad you are, but just really wanted to check that everything was alright. You seem to be shutting your other friends out.”

You let out a huff of a laugh and slowly shake your head. “Yeah, that happens when you find out someone cheated on you and then don’t come to you about it.”

Nico looks at you with eyes wide in surprise. Everyone knew that you were in a relationship of sorts, but no one knew who it was with.

“Well if we need to bury a body, you just have to say the words.”

And with that you break out into fits of laughter, the first in months and you can feel four pairs of eyes on your back.

As the weeks passed, you started to get into a new rhythm. You found new sparring partners, friends, and even went on a few dates. You didn’t miss the glances from the boys when they thought you weren’t looking. But the thing that you couldn’t understand was why Xaden would ever be looking.

You were in the middle of studying in the commons with Kai and felt his eyes before even meeting his gaze. The thing that surprised you most was the flash of sadness and, was that jealousy, that crossed his face. You shook your head knowing that you must have dreamt those looks and went back to your books. But that didn’t help the thoughts from swirling.

Why would he be sad? He seemed to have a shiny, new obsession, why would he care what you were doing?

‘Maybe things aren’t really what they seem.’ Cedri states.

‘That may be true, but how would I know when no one has said anything otherwise.’ You retort.

The next few days seemed to drag, but you found yourself feeling lighter than you had in a while. You started getting up for morning runs in the past few days and that seemed to help your mood improve. That was until a week later; you saw Bodhi standing at the wall out of the citadel on your way there for a run.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of this morning visit Bodhi?” you question.

“I just wanted to see if we could talk, maybe hang out later? Things have been weird lately between you and everyone and I just wanted to see what was going on.” He explains.

“Did someone put you up to this?”

“No.” He says resolutely with a furrow in his brow. “I just miss hanging out with you and talking. We’ve been friends since we entered this hellhole and I just want to continue that.”

“Fine, we can talk later. Want to meet down by the river after classes today? I could use some fresh air away from the quadrant.”

“Sure, I’ll see you down there.” He says and walks back towards the academic building.

‘If he tries to hurt you, I will make sure Cuir does not have a good evening.’

‘I don’t think that’s Bodhi’s plan, but I know you’ll be there to make sure.’

‘Of course, you do not think I would leave you with those humans after the hurt they’ve inflicted recently.’

‘I would never expect anything less.’

You can hear your dragon ‘harumph’ in a sigh at your confidence.

[in1-nutshell]

TRANSFORMERS ONE IS OUT! Unfortunately, I couldn't watch it in theaters because work and money is a bit tight right now. I can't wait for this movie to come out in YouTube Movies to watch it. Since we both know it's obviously gonna have a sad ending, do you mind if I added a bit more sadness in this request? Orion Pax has a younger sibling that he raised named Buddy. Buddy loves both Orion Pax and D-16 as a family. Buddy is willing to bite some ankles if anybody was mean to someone Buddy cares about. Buddy is also tagging along with them in the adventures, much to Orion's dismay and dread. I heard there is gonna be a fight between them at the near ending. Buddy is horrified and scared that those two bots that Buddy considered their family is now fighting each other as enemies. Buddy begs and screams at them to stop, but Optimus and Megatron obviously won't. When Optimus and Megatron shoot each other at the same time, in a moment of panic and terror for their loved ones - Buddy jumps in between them and get hit by both of their shots accidentally that immediately offlined Buddy. They both stopped fighting in shock and grief. Buddy's death was the final straw between Optimus and Megatron's relationship. When Megatron and Optimus went in their separate ways, they both knew the war had begun. Characters: Orion Pax, D-16, Bumblebee, and Elita-one. Please and thank you!

Trying to get the TF1 fics out a bit early so we have something to read.

Hope you enjoy!

Slight mention of spoiler in the movie

Bot Buddy being Orion Pax's younger sibling

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Angst, Character death (you have been warned!), Cybertronian reader

TF1

Buddy was one of the youngest miners in the group.

They did get some special treatment from certain bots but was otherwise expected to act just like everyone else.

One bot in particular took interest in the younger bot.

Orion Pax was his name.

He saw a lot of himself in the younger bot and offered his companionship.

The younger bot quickly latched onto him faster than rust.

It didn’t take long for them to fall into a sibling dynamic.

Soon D-16 was introduced.

D-16: “So let me get this straight. You saw them and decided to be their friend and the next thing you know your siblings?” Orion: “That’s pretty much it.” D-16 shakes his helm in good humor. D-16: “Sometimes I can’t with you.” Buddy swings their arms around him and Orion. Buddy: “Get used to it D! You’re one of us now!” D-16: “As long as you’re not like this rusty bucket its fine.” Orion: “Hey!” Buddy chuckles: “Don’t worry about that D.” 2 weeks later… D-16 watching Buddy trying to drop kick Darkwing after he ‘accidentally’ knocked their energon cart. D-16: “Primus… they’re worse…” Orion pats D-16 on the back. Orion: “Yep… want to help them out?” Both mech’s wince seeing Buddy get punched in the chassis. D-16: “…Fine.”

Buddy always kept their brothers on their pedes with their antics.

Always kept them both on alert.

Buddy loved to randomly jump on their shoulders or try and pick them up.

Despite their antics, Buddy was a good miner and even managed to do something most miners couldn’t do.

Get on Elita-One’s good side.

No one knows what exactly happened between them both for Buddy to get a bit of favoritism.

Elita refuses to elaborate and Buddy likes to see bots squirm for the answer.

Buddy hands Elita a spare jetpack. Elita: “Buddy I already have a jetpack.” Buddy: “We’re going to need it.” Elita raises an optic but ignores it. Later… Elita: “… How did you know—” Buddy: “The jetpacks are old Elita. Its only a matter of time before someone falls from a faulty one.” Elita pats their helm. Elita: “When I get promoted, I might just ask to move you to be my assistant.” Buddy: “No! I don’t want any more work!” Elita: “Too late, already considering it.” Buddy: “Orion tell her to stop being mean!”

Buddy was helping Elita get used to her new role in waste management when they saw who was on the Iacon 500.

They cheered for their brothers with everyone else.

The bot let out a yelp when they saw D-16 get hurt, but quickly smiled seeing Orion try and help him to the finish line.

…Too bad Chromia won the race.

Good news, Buddy was now a couple shanix richer from the betting pool.

 While they were heading to the med bay to go see Orion and D-16, they quickly hid seeing Darkwing picking them up and leading them somewhere.

Orion and D-16 talking to B-127 when something big falls on to the conveyer belt and jumps off it. Buddy dusts themselves from the junk. Buddy turns and waves at the bots. B-127: “New friend!” Orion and D-16: “Buddy!?” They both go over to Buddy looking for any injuries. Buddy: “Hey quit it! I’m not dying!” Orion: “What are you doing here?” Buddy: “Well I was going to the med bay to congratulate you two, but Darkwing got to you first. Then I had to wait a while until the coast was clear and find out where you were sent. It’s kinda fun going through the shoot though.” D-16: “What you did was—” B-127 pushes D-16 out of the way and shakes Buddy’s servo. B-127: “Hi there! I’m B-127, or you can call me B or—” Buddy: “Wait! I can be B and you can be BB!” B-127: “Or maybe we can go by the Double B’s!” B-127 and Buddy start chatting up a storm. Orion: “What just happened?” D-16: “I don’t know but I don’t like it…”

Orion catches Buddy up on the new information on Alpha Trion.

Buddy is ready to go.

Orion and D-16 try to get them to stay, but Buddy ends up joining.

They are having a blast climbing the crates inside the train as Orion tries to get Elita.

Buddy stared long and hard at the landscape when the group reached to the surface.

Is sprinting with B-127 the moment the giant rock formations start getting closer.

Grips Orion and D-16’s servo when they all get tossed out of the train.

Their chatting and B-127’s chatting makes the other older bots consider gagging them for the remainder of the trip.

When reaching the cave of the fallen Prime’s, they gently hold D-16’s servo as they silently mourn for Megatronus Prime.

Hides behind Elita when Alpha Trion comes back online and nearly decks Orion in the face.

Cries a little bit seeing what Sentinel had done to the other Prime’s.

They deserved so much better than that fate.

Absolutely seething with D-16 when the group sees Sentinel giving the Quintesson’s THEIR hard earned energon.

Once everyone gets their T-cog’s, Buddy is the first to try and transform… unfortunately they did not get it the first time.

The group was running down the hill. Buddy’s helm gets tucked into their frame. Buddy: “I CAN’T SEE! I CAN’T SEE!” Orion starts laughing Orion: “HAHAHAHA—AAH WHERE’S MY HEAD?!”

Buddy gets a bad feeling about D-16 when he starts talking to Orion but brushes it off as stress.

They hoped they were right, especially after he admitted to wanting to terminate Sentinel.

Don’t get them wrong, they absolutely hate the bot now, but to go so far as terminate him?

It didn’t seem right.

Was the first one to get tased and wake up.

They get excited the second they see Starscream, Shockwave and Soundwave.

B-127 and Buddy both tell the other’s who the High guard were.

An excitement that quickly turns into frightened when they see D-16 beating up Starscream.

They tried to get to him, but the crowd wouldn’t let them.

Buddy looked over at Orion, both sharing the same look of worry and fear for their brother.

They end up getting captured by Arachnid with B-127 and D-16 after the explosion.

Orion is riddled with guilt the second Elita tells him that Buddy, D-16 and B-127 were captured with some of the high guard.

Thankfully, he and Elita made a plan with the remainder of the guard to help get the others and bring Sentinel to justice.

Back at Iacon…

Buddy was in between D-16 and B-127 on the ground, restrained as Sentinel prattled about having them executed.

They felt their spark stop for a second when D-16 stood up.

Arachnid had to restrain them when Sentinel started branding Megatronus’s face on D-16’s chassis.

Buddy kicks the spider in the back of one of her legs. She lets go. The younger bot then kicks Sentinel in the back of his knee joints before helm butting him. Snetinel staggers back a bit. They stood in front of D-16 with fury in their optics. Buddy: “Touch my brother again and I swear I will send you to Primus myself!” Many of the captured bots looked in surprise at the young bot protecting the fallen miner. B-127: “Buddy just stay down!” D-16 tries to stand up the second he sees Sentinel start to move to them. D-16: “Buddy get out of the way!” Buddy: “Fat chance!” Buddy tries to kick Sentinel again, but this time the Prime grabbed their pede and with a swift movement twisted it. SNAP! Buddy: “AAAAHHH—” WHAM! Sentinel punched Buddy across the face sending them skidding across the floor. D-16: “BUDDY!” He glares at Sentinel. D-16: “Stop! Your fight is with me!” Sentinel: “No, they made it personal when they helm butted me. Its time to make an example.”

Thankfully the train had just crashed into the building.

Orion hops out and helps D-16 and Buddy up.

Orion briefly thinks on punching Sentinel in the face but is quickly drowned by D-16 yelling that he was going to terminate Sentinel.

Buddy tried to tell Orion that something was wrong, but their older brother was gone, off to tell everyone the truth about what Sentinel did.

They did their best in battling the other guards with their bad pede.

The bot screamed in horror when they saw D-16 and Sentinel going off the edge.

It took them a while to get to where the fight was.

They remembered seeing D-16 holding an extremely injured Orion over the edge of a dark hole.

They didn’t remember screaming, but their voice box started glitching when they saw D-16 let go of Orion’s servo.

Elita and B-127 were by their side holding them tightly, afraid they would try and jump off the ledge to get to him.

Buddy remembered looking at D-16 giving his speech.

Their audial winced when he called himself ‘Megatron’.

They had to close their optics for a second, not believing they had seen a newer version of Orion, now calling himself Optimus Prime.

The two former brothers fought.

Megatron and Optimus were on the ground wrestling the former’s fusion cannon. They barely registered the sounds of pedes coming closer. Megatron: “Let go!” Optimus: “Never!” Suddenly the cannon went off. A scream. THUD! Both mech’s look over and see Buddy’s frame laying on the ground…so still. Optimus quickly gets off Megatron and runs to Buddy. Optimus: “Buddy!” Optimus gets to the frame. Buddy’s optics were offline and there was a smoldering hole in the middle of their chassis where their spark was supposed to be. Optimus gently cradles them. Optimus: “Buddy! Buddy please! Buddy… please… don’t…” He gently hugs the limp frame, not caring in that moment if Megatron blasted him. Megatron just stood up and stared. He wanted to scream. To yell. Megatron wanted to hug his little sibling frame and pray to Primus that this was not happening. Optimus gently places the frame down, stands up and looks at Megatron dead in the optics. Optimus: “Take the High Guard and go. You are banished from Iacon.” Megatron starts walking away but stops for a moment to take one last look at Buddy’s still frame before yelling for his troops to follow him.

There was a small funeral held for Buddy.

 Optimus made sure to hold it together in front of the others.

But Elita and B-127 caught him alone, sobbing with a picture of Buddy, Orion, and D-16, smiling, without a care in the world.

The two bots held their leader tightly as he continued to sob.

Megatron mourned for Buddy in private.

It was only right.

He cried in silence holding a picture of him, Buddy, and Orion Pax on their first day of mining.

In the safety of his habsuite, he could cry all he wanted before his Decepticon’s expected him to come out with a rally cry.

[milfsloverblog]

Secret Benefits (NSFW)

Part 2 (part 1 here)

Sugar mommy!Larissa Weems x fem!reader

A/N: This took a while, but it's finally here. And good news, I've got most of part 3 written already! In this part, Larissa and reader enter the vicious circle of both thinking the other one don't want them like /that/. We might be in for some slow burn, people! Hope you’ll enjoy! <3

You startled awake, hair clinging to your sweaty forehead and an unpleasant, incessant throbbing between your legs. You had dreamt of her, again.

It had been four days since you’d met with Larissa, and you’d been having those wet dreams ever since.

It always started the same way, you’d go through the evening you’d shared at the restaurant, and everything was exactly the same except for what happened when she’d drop you off at your place. You’d invite her in and she’d agree to follow you. You’d barely have time to step into your flat when her lips would attach themselves to your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive flesh and making you lose all sense of time and space.

The rest of the dream would happen very quickly, Larissa would have you on any surface of your flat she’d see fit - which had included your sofa, the wall, the kitchen counter and your dining table. She’d hike up your dress and get rid of the lacy thong she’d bought you, shoving it inside her handbag.

“Don’t pout, sweetling,” she’d whisper in your ear, her slender fingers finding their way to your heat. “I promise to buy you more.”

You could only writhe and whimper as she teased you, her digits moving in excruciating slow circles on your clit until she’d decide you’d have had enough and would push two of her fingers knuckle deep inside you, making your breath hitch in a loud gasp.

Larissa’s eyes would never leave your face as she’d relentlessly pound into you. She delighted in the way the right corner of your mouth twitched with each thrust of her fingers, how your brows furrowed deeper and deeper each time she stroked that sweet spot inside you.

You would feel the coil tightening dangerously behind your navel, bringing you closer to your well-deserved release as you’d beg your lover to keep going. Please, Larissa, please, please, please.

And then you’d wake up. You’d find yourself staring at the ceiling of your bedroom, your core aching from another ruined orgasm.

You groaned loudly as you peeled yourself from your bed and headed to the bathroom, taking a single glance at your dishevelled form in the mirror before shedding your pyjamas and stepping in the shower.

How easy it would be, to slip your hand between your legs and give yourself the release that you’d been denied for the last four days. But it wouldn’t be right. You didn’t want this, whatever this was between Larissa and yourself, to turn into something sexual. She would provide you with money and you would provide her with company, as you had both agreed on. Nothing more.

Your phone buzzed on the bedside table right as you walked back into your bedroom to get dressed. You didn’t need to check it to know who it was, Larissa had been sending you good morning texts for the last few days.

You finished getting ready for the day before picking up your phone to read her message.

Good morning, darling. I hope you slept well! Have a good day. Xx

You were almost tempted to tell her you hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in days but eventually refrained from doing so.

Good morning! Slept okay, hope you did too. Have a lovely day :)

You shoved your phone into your bag and hurried out of your flat, knowing you wouldn’t be getting another text from Larissa.

She’d text you once in the morning, then once or twice around noon when, you supposed, she was on her lunch break. After that, you wouldn’t be getting any news until at least 6 pm. At least, because once she hadn’t texted you before 8. You still didn’t know what her job was, but you couldn’t imagine being up at six in the morning only to finish your day so late at night.

As expected, you didn’t receive any more text until your own lunch break. You were out at a local cafe with your best friend, munching on your sandwich when your phone buzzed on the table.

Thinking of you, sweetling. Xx

A blush crept up your cheeks which you desperately tried hiding by taking a sip of water, but it wasn’t lost on your best friend.

“Is that your woman?” She smirked.

“Larissa is not my woman.”

“Oh right, sorry. Is that your sugar mommy, then?”

“Shut your mouth!” You groaned, swatting your friend’s arm.

You had told her about your evening with Larissa. Well, most of it. You didn’t mention the lacy thong or the fact that she’d picked your food.

“You still don’t want to do it?” She snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Do what?”

“Her.”

You rolled your eyes and put your sandwich down, wrapping it in its paper bag to finish it later.

“I’ve told you, I don’t want to feel like I’m selling my body for money.” You explained for what seemed to be the fifteenth time that week.

“Oh, come on! I would let a woman like her fuck me for free any time she wants.”

“Don’t be crass,” you said, shoving your sandwich into your bag. “Larissa is not like that, and neither am I. Now move, we need to get back to class.”

You typed in a quick answer to Larissa as you walked into your next class and sat down at your usual desk.

Thinking of you too. Wanna call tonight? I’d love to hear your voice and have a chat. No worries if not :)

Larissa was pouring herself a cup of coffee, her fourth that day, when she read your answer. You wanted to call her, to hear her voice. A small smile pulled at the corners of her lips as she sipped on her coffee and texted you back.

I would love that. I’ll text you when I’m done working. Xx

And so she did. You had been home for a couple of hours when your phone started ringing, making you run from the kitchen to the sofa to make sure you’d get it in time.

“Larissa! Hi!”

“Hello, darling. I hope it’s not too late?” Her British accent filled your flat as you pressed on the speaker button.

“No, no it’s not. Did you have a good day?” Truth be told, she did sound a little tired but you would never dare to bring it up.

“It was alright, not the worst day I’ve ever had.” She chuckled lowly, sending a shiver down your spine. “It’s a good day now, though. It’s nice to hear you.”

“It’s nice to hear you too, I thought it’d be better and easier than just texting back and forth.”

“Mhm…” Larissa hummed and you heard the distinctive ‘pop’ of a bottle being opened.

“Wine?” You asked, earning another chuckle from the woman on the phone.

“Red. Just one glass to help me relax.”

She needed it. She really needed it after the stunt that Wednesday had pulled that day.

“I wish I could share one with you,” you said, hearing Larissa pouring the wine into a glass.

“Do you?” Her voice seemed to have dropped an octave, and you wondered if her nostrils had flared like they’d done back at the restaurant.

“Yes, yes I do. I’d let you pick the wine, of course. I’d watch you pour it and wait for you to bring the glass to my lips.”

Larissa let out a shuddering breath, suddenly feeling extremely hot in her shirt. Her fingers swiftly moved to take care of unbuttoning the constricting piece of clothing, leaving her in a white bralette.

“Larissa?” You called when she hadn’t answered for a while.

“Yes, I’m here, darling. Simply lost in my thoughts.” Larissa admitted before taking a sip of wine.

“Are you thinking of me again?” You asked, deciding to try your luck.

Wine dribbled from the corner of Larissa’s mouth, rolling down her chin to quickly drip onto her chest. It would leave a stain, Larissa thought as she watched the crimson liquid soaking the lacy fabric of her bralette.

“Would you like that? Me thinking of you?” She eventually answered after another long silence.

“Maybe, yes.”

There was another silent moment as Larissa took another couple sips of wine before placing her glass on the coffee table.

She sighed loudly, wanting nothing more than to hike up her skirt and let her fingers explore her sex. It was such a shame that you weren’t interested in being intimate with her, she would have loved to listen to your heavy breathing as you’d touch yourself on the other side of the phone.

“I want to take you shopping this weekend, if you’re free,” She eventually said.

“Shopping?”

“Lingerie shopping, specifically. I want to treat you to a couple of sets. Would you be interested in that, sweetling?”

“Yes! Yes, I would love that. I’ve never really been lingerie shopping before.” But you wouldn’t pass on such an opportunity.

“Good. How about you call your work tomorrow, and let them know you won’t be able to be there on Saturday? I’ll take care of you.”

You knew what she meant by that, she’d hand you another one of those envelopes filled with a couple hundred dollars.

“I’ll call tomorrow.”

“Good.” Larissa sighed again.

She had emptied her glass, her right hand was groping at her body while the other one kept the phone pressed to her ear. She’d have to hang up soon, before she’d start fucking herself.

“Larissa?” You called again.

“Mhm? Yes, darling?”

“I should go, still need to take a shower and get everything ready for tomorrow… It was so nice to hear you, I hope we can do this again soon.”

“Any time you want, you only need to text me.”

“I will.” You promised. “Well, have a good night, Larissa.”

“Have a good night, darling.” She answered, biting her tongue as she thought of adding think of me.

You listened to her breathing for another second before hanging up and dropping yourself on your sofa.

God, that woman was hot. Her voice through the phone had made you soaking wet and it had taken everything within you to keep your hand out of your pants.

Back in her quarters, Larissa didn’t have as much self-control as you did. Her skirt had been hiked as soon as you had hung up, her legs parting to let her move her panties to the side.

“Oh, darling…” She breathed out as she eventually let her fingertips brush on her clit.

You had bewitched her, it seemed. If she didn’t know any better, Larissa would have wondered if you maybe were a siren.

The tall woman was halfway through fucking herself, the coil in her lower stomach tightening with each thrust of her fingers, when she suddenly realised how wrong this was.

She immediately pulled her fingers out of herself, her cheeks burning in embarrassment. You had made it clear that you didn’t want to have sex with her, and it wasn’t right for her to be touching herself thinking of you.

Larissa made her way over to the bathroom to thoroughly wash her hands, eventually opting for a full cold shower to clear her mind from any more sinful thoughts.

As you both got into bed that night, only a few miles away from each other, you both shared the same thought.

How on earth am I going to survive a lingerie shopping session with her?

———————————————————————

taglist: @raspburrythief @weemssapphic @readingtheentrails @larissaoftarthweems @principal-weems09 @kimiinou @winterfireblond @im-a-carnivorous-plant @geekyarmorel @h-doodles @azu-zu @barbarasstar @witchesmortuary @vigelvictoria @m1lflov3rrr @dumbasslesbi @crow-raven-crow @fridays-coven @lilfartbox1 @shawncantwrite @autumn-leaves-chasing-breeze @gwens0girl @aemilia19 @the-bagel24 @lvinhs @thefutureisus2020 @gela123 @a-queen-and-her-throne @rando-mango @wheresmyboo @my-silver-spring @hillary-nicks @ablsk @natasha29romanoff @tallvampirelady12 @canyoufeelmyheartsayinghi @moonyboyjay @i-love-nerdy-stuff @1-800-milfdilf @musicallovinggal @scarlettssub @jasperobsidian-blog @anoymous614372 @i-write-sometimes-maybe @brienne-the-brave @slytherinthepms @non-binary-frogking @wife-of-gwendolinechristie @anjo-iludidoefudido @imnotafruitt @opheliauniverse

[mionemymind]

Lost in the Universe (Part 1)

Summary: Y/n is transported to a different universe and by chance, meets the Wanda that inhabits it.

Warnings: Fluff, Cursing, Slight Angst?

A/n: I know I haven't written in a while. But recently I've been on a surge to start writing again. I hope you all enjoy and please tell me honestly how you feel about it. Hopefully, I'm not too rusty.

Word Count: 1.6k

Masterlist

Part 2

Y/n dropped into a new universe, barely landing on her feet. She scrambled to find balance as the portal above her closed. “What the fuck?” Y/n wiped off her hands as she looked around the unfamiliar area. 

“Are you lost dekta?” Y/n spun around at the sound of her voice. A smile plastered on Y/n’s face when she saw Wanda. She took a couple of steps when she felt something was different with the girl in front of her. “Wanda?”

The brunette chuckled at the obvious confusion. “It’s me dekta.” Y/n still grew apprehensive. She looked around the location she was in. They were on a simple farm surrounded by acres of grape trees. There was a barn and home in the distance and sheep and cows grazed the plain. “I don’t think you’re my Wanda though,” Y/n said as kindly as possible. It was scary to be in a new world without a clue as to how they operate. Even though Y/n knew that the woman in front of her wasn’t exactly her Wanda, it still gave her some type of peace knowing there was a version of her here. 

“And you’re not my Y/n.” Y/n’s nerves eased with the comment as Wanda broke the distance between them. “So let’s get you back to my home and figure out how this happened.” 

“Make yourself at home.” Wanda took off her dirty boots at the front and walked to the kitchen. She took the kettle out from the drawer and filled it with water. “I’ll make you some hot chocolate. Is that your favorite in your world?”

“It is!” Y/n yelled from the front of the house. She took off her shoes and jacket, hoping to not get the house dirty. The entrance of the house led them into a decent-sized living room filled with various decorations and plants. 

Y/n didn’t mean to snoop but she couldn’t help but look at all the photos framed on the wall and tables. The first photo that caught her eye was a picture of young Wanda and Pietro back in what Y/n could guess was their hometown. She picked it up and analyzed it in detail.

“I miss him,” Y/n whispered to herself. Wanda noticed this as she walked in with two cups of hot chocolate. “We were only five in that photo. I think we went to the zoo that day. Probably one of our better pictures when we were younger. Everything else is either him or me or the both of us crying.” 

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Wanda nodded for approval, “is your Pietro still alive?” Wanda could sense this was a sensitive subject and gave Y/n one of the cups while directing her to the couch. 

“Yes, my Pietro is still alive. Currently, he’s away on work.” Y/n gave a small smile, the feeling of missing Pietro grew inside. “I’m happy to hear that.” Y/n took a small sip of her hot chocolate, making sure not to spill the hot drink on herself. 

“So your Y/n likes hot chocolate?” Wanda smiled in agreement. “Yes, my Y/n does like hot chocolate. She’s the only reason I have some. I’m just glad that part of her is with you as well. I hope it finds you comfort though because it must be scary to be in a completely different universe.”

“Well,” Y/n thought maybe lying would help ease her anxiety, but the presence of Wanda, even though it wasn’t necessarily her Wanda, made her want to tell the truth, “it is scary. I’m just hoping they find me. But you have been pretty calm for this whole ‘I managed to drop on your farm out of all the locations in this universe’ thing.” 

“Your humor appears to be the same no matter the universe,” Wanda playfully said. “But the reason I’m not freaking out is because in this universe, I’m aware of my other counterparts. Luckily enough, you dropped into a universe where I have my powers.” Wanda proceeded to show off her magic, covering Y/n in red swirls momentarily. 

“Are you able to drop me back home?” Wanda politely smiled, setting her cup down on the table nearby. “I’m sorry dekta. I unfortunately don’t have that type of power as of yet.” 

Y/n sighed in defeat, her anxiety coming back with worried thoughts. Wanda reached out and grabbed Y/n’s hand in a comforting manner. Even in different universes, Wanda Maximoff cared for Y/n Y/l/n. This was a simple fact that would not change. “However, your Wanda is currently on the hunt for you.” 

“She is?” Y/n placed her cup down, her hand still interlaced with Wanda’s. “The rules of the universe don’t allow any conversation to happen between each other but we can still feel each other. So when you dropped into my world, I could feel the slight imbalance. But, you just happen to be dating one of the most powerful people in the universe.” Y/n blushed at the compliment, already knowing that she was lucky to even date Wanda in the first place. 

“And the perk of dating powerful people is that we can feel other things in different universes. Right now, I can feel her dropping into other universes, trying her best to find you.”

“What if she can’t find me?” Y/n pouted. Wanda smiled even more. It was refreshing to see that their love expanded beyond her world. Wanda cupped Y/n’s cheek with her free hand, “This is something I will share only with you.” Listening intently, “You and your Wanda have a special connection. Think of it as a tether. Right now, she’s tugging on that tether hoping that if she continues to pull on it, it will lead back to you. No amount of magic, power, or science can cause this tether to break. It might be a little tangled with how many universes you might’ve accidentally gone through, but she will reach you in time.” 

“So believe me when I say this dekta, Wanda will always find you.” Wanda kissed Y/n’s forehead and proceeded to get up. “In the meantime, my Y/n is away on a mission. You’re free to stay here with me until all of this gets sorted out.”

Wanda walked back to the front of the house, putting her shoes back on. “Is there anything I can do to help out while I wait?”

“Wanna help me with the goats?” 

After a long day of work, Wanda and Y/n lay in the hammock near the campfire, admiring the stars that the night offered. “When I looked at your photos, I noticed none of them were of just you and I, how come?” 

Wanda blushed at the directness and was thankful that it was nighttime. “You see, my Y/n and I aren’t dating yet.” Y/n faced Wanda with a ridiculous look. “Are you serious? How come I haven’t confessed? If there’s a world where there’s a you and an I, then we must be together.”

“I’m not sure. We bought this farm together to get away from the city and have some peace time before they spring our next mission on us. Even then, she doesn’t seem to have the courage to confess.” Wanda sighed, her patience was running thin but she knew it was worth the wait. 

“Do you need me to get myself together?” Wanda laughed at the offer, clearly imagining two Y/n’s talking to each other. “I’ll probably be the one to have to confess first if she doesn’t do it soon.” 

“Just to be sure, does the Y/n here like you like that?” 

“Oh, I’m more than positive that my Y/n likes me back,” Wanda cockily states. 

“What makes you so certain? Back then, it took me forever to confirm that my Wanda even liked me.”

“Cause within our tethers, I can feel her. I’ve only ever felt her. The universe wouldn’t be so cruel to tie me to her if she didn’t feel the same way.” There was more to the truth than Wanda could let on, because in every universe, Y/n and Wanda always fall in love with each other, no matter the circumstances, no matter the era, and no matter the time. 

“I didn’t know the universe could be kind like that.” 

They continued to star watch when a red portal in the sky opened up and out came two figures. One landed roughly as the other descended slowly onto the ground. Y/n and Wanda got up from their hammock and walked towards them. 

“Wanda?” Y/n yelled out in the distance, hoping it was them and not an alien invasion. “Y/n?!” Wanda came rushing into Y/n’s arm, feeling her worries slip away as she finally was with her again. “I thought I lost you,” Wanda stated with worry. Today had been a long day for her and America Chavez. Hopping from universe to universe was hard, especially with a young teen that has no clue how to control her powers. 

“You could never lose me,” Y/n stated confidently. Wanda pulled back from the hug and sealed a kiss, one that made both of their knees weak and minds numb with love. Pulling away slowly, pressing their foreheads against each other, Wanda said, “Let's go home dekta.” 

Y/n nodded in agreement and intertwined their hands. They walked back to the portal but not before Y/n waved goodbye to this universe’s Wanda. “I hope she confesses soon!” 

Wanda smiled back in return and waved. Telepathically, Wanda said, “Thank you for taking care of my Y/n.” 

“Anytime, Wanda.” 

Part 2

Taglist: @halobaby  @arelyitsherec8 @blackxwidowsxwife @cristin-rjd @madamevirgo @trikruismybitch @paradiselost916 @mmmmokdok @morbid-gaymer @dailyavengering @itsnottilly @helloalycia @randomshyperson @tomy5girls @daenerys713 @ensorcellme @lezzzbehonesthere @imagine-reblog @sighsam @olsensnpm @tquick99 @feolok @emilyprentisslittlewhore @mvddison99 @iamapotato @shadowybailiffdreamer-donkey @yuhloversxx @mjaudrey @upsidedowndanvers @somewhatgreatexpectations @wandavixen @second-try-stevie @magicallymaximoff @username23345 @coollemonsaresour @littlewinchester15 @aimezvousbrahms @afuckingshituniverse @am-just-a-cosmic-joke-to-me @ohmygooddamnbisexualmood @diaryoflife @s7uts @newyork1432 @the-anxious-stargazer @hello-mtf @marvelousbelladonna @ima-gi–na-tion @obsessed-with-wandamaximoff @the-camilucha @itsnottilly @171611 @kaitlynroseb @daisybri7 @drpepperobsessed @bemyvitamin @musicinourlips @marvelousbelladonna @gingerbreadcookieforlife @xastrydx @chasethemoon @naixia00 @lostandsearching @stupidsapphicsstuff @haechanana @the-camilucha @severepeanutartisanhands @owloftheshadows @somewhatgreatexpectations @ywuen @mixed-fandom-mess @loomontoia @ilovemarvelwomen @isitallreallyworthit @coxmicbabygirl  @cyanide-mustard @mrs-avenger3000 @prentisshoe @andrea-stark @simpforwandanat @abimess @randomshyperson @yourtaletotell @magically-queer-stuff @imapotatao @iliketozoneout @maximoffbrossupremacy​ @olsensnpm​ @psychadelichues​ @whitelotus00

A/n: I just used the same tag list from Fake Memories. If you didn't want to be tagged, I'm sorry.

[billybutcherrtrash]

Throne (Part 2)

Link to Pt 1 <-

Warning: MDNI (18+) Oral (f), Smut, Adorable nonsense.

The chair is a paid actor. 🤷🏻‍♀️

(I didn’t proofread and I’m sorry.)

Spencer entered his apartment, dropping his go bag at the door. The case had drained him and he was prepared to crawl in bed to forget about it. He made his way to his bedroom, flipping on the light. He paused seeing the large chair he frequently read in. Only now it was different. Walking closer, he ran his fingers over the soft leather. He’d known what was there since the night you’d made them. The night you dragged your nails over the material, marking it as he claimed you. If he was being honest, he couldn’t stop thinking of it. It was seared into his memory. The way you gasped his name. How it felt when you tugged at his hair with his face buried between your thighs. Spencer’s fingers traced the marks, licking his lips as he recalled every moment of you in this damn chair…

It has been days since you’d left his apartment. A case had come up and he and the team had left short notice so you hadn’t actually seen him in close to a week. You didn’t want to be the first to text so you didn’t. You waited patiently but after a few days he still hadn’t contacted you. It was hard to think of him as a guy who would use you and then ghost you. Finally you just accepted you see him eventually. He had to come back to do his teaching job.

You were curled up in bed reading a book when your phone buzzed on the nightstand. You sighed and set the book aside, lifting your phone.

Spencer: Hey, just got home.

Your heart shouldn’t have started pounding and your breathing shouldn’t have picked up both happened at once. What do you say? Play it casual? Yes, causal is best.

You: Welcome back. Glad you made it home safe.

Simple. Easy. Don’t get your hopes up. But you couldn’t help it. You wanted him to say he missed you because you’d been pining over him since he left.

Buzz

Spencer: I missed you. We should meet up.

You glanced at the clock. 10:45 PM. Where could you possible meet at this hour?

“His house.” You joked out loud to yourself.

You: Right now?

You felt nauseous as soon as you sent the text fearing he’d change his mind if he thought you didn’t want to see him.

Spencer: I know it’s late but I want to see you.

Of course you were going to say yes. What if he thought you were desperate? What if he was actually just using you? No, he wouldn’t. Would he? No. Absolutely not.

You: Where?

You stared at the screen as three little blue dots danced as he typed out his reply.

Spencer: Anywhere.

You: Anywhere?

You knew what you wanted to say. His place. His apartment. His bed. His chair. That fucking chair. You’d thought about it more frequently than you’d like to admit but God…you wanted to be laid across that chair again while he fucked you.

Spencer: Come over.

Before you could process the words in the screen you were up and grabbing your clothes. You pulled in your shoes and jacket before heading out the door. It wasn’t that far to his place. You’d found that out last week when you’d gone home with him. A ten minute drive, tops. Getting into your car, you drive straight there. Your mind was buzzing with thoughts of him. Thoughts of the things you’d done just seven days ago. You pulled up and made your way inside the building, finding yourself at his door. Your heart was racing as you knocked gently. It took a moment before the door opened and Spencer stood there grinning.

“Hey, come in.” He said, stepping aside.

You entered and he closed the door behind you. Part you expected him to close the door and instantly pull you into a bruising kiss, pick you up and carry you to his room and that would be the end of it but that didn’t happen. Instead he gazed at you for a long moment, taking in the fact you actually came. You gave him a nervous smile.

“So…” You said, nervously chewing at your lip.

“So…” He replied, also unsure of what to say.

You both stood awkwardly, unsure of what to say. You watched as he reached for your hand and squeezed it gently.

“This doesn’t have to be awkward. We’ve known each other for a long time…and I like having you around. I like spending time with you. We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. I just really wanted to see you. The case was a disaster and I kept thinking of you when things weren’t looking so great.”’

“Why would you think about me?”

“Because you are a beautiful person and people like you make the world seem less dark.” He admitted.

“You’re getting mushy, Spence.” You smiled.

“Too mushy?” He raised eyebrow.

“No, just the right amount of mush.”

He pulled you closer until you were right in front of him. He brushed your hair behind your ear and you stood on your toes to kiss him. He retuned the gesture gently, cradling your face in his hands. Your arms circled his waste, pulling yourself against him. After several long moments you pulled away. Spencer was smiling, clearly pleased and stroking your cheek gently.

“So what now?” You asked.

“I don’t know but I’m glad you’re here.”

You chewed at your lip, eyes causally glancing toward his room. You could see the chair through the doorway. Spencer followed your gaze.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” He asked.

“Did you think about me…in the chair?”

“While I was gone?” His eyebrows raised. “I will admit it did keep me up a few nights.”

“A few? It’s been seven days, Spence.” You smirked.

You could see his cheeks reddening at the admission.

“You said we don’t have to do anything but what if I want to?”

He nodded slowly, “I would happily oblige. What the lady wants, the lady gets.”

With that, you turned and led him to his room. Spencer followed, flipping off his living room light as he did. You laughed softly, reaching to do the same to his bedside lamp. He caught your hand and stopped you.

“If you do that, I can’t see you.” He said

“You’ve already seen everything there is to see.”

“And you think I don’t want to see it again?” Spencer asked, inching closer to you.

“We both know you can have whatever you want ” You licked your lips and took a step back.

He reached around you and pulled you against him, your body pressed him his. “Tell me what you want.”

It was taking every fiber of you not to beg him to just shut up and fuck you.

“What I want right now or…after tonight?” You looked up at him.

“Both.” Spencer replied, giving you a soft smile.

“Well, obviously, tonight…I want you to fuck me.” You shrugged.

Spencer laughed gently, “I can definitely do that. But what about tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow? I haven’t thought that far yet.”

“Think about it while I do the first thing you wanted.”

He leaned down and kissed you, arms holding you tightly against him. You were suddenly aware of your body’s reaction to him. You ached for his hands on you,gripping your hips and leaving bruises. Finally he pulled away, his hands sliding under your shirt. You lifted your arms so he could pull it over your head.

“Sit”. He said, glancing at the chair in the corner.

You did as you were told, walking over and sitting on the edge of the chair. Spencer knelt before you, his hands loving to your jeans. He undid them and he slid them down your legs. Spencer kissed your thigh gently, slowly working his way higher.

“Spence…I think I still owe you.” You spoked, your hand moving to his hair.

“You don’t own me anything”. He shook his head as he continued. “I can’t even look at this chair without seeing you coming undone while I lick your clit.”

“Fuck.” You whimpered.

His lips finally reached your panties and you were already panting as his hands slid under them and Spencer pulled them down your legs. You licked your lips and watched as he leaned in, running his tongue over your slick folds. Your nails dug into the arms of the chair as you almost screamed his name. He smiled against you, licking your core. You fought the urge to close your eyes and just enjoy the feeling. You needed to watch every move he made. Spencer swirled his tongue around your clit and slid a finger into you. You clenched around him, one hand moving to tug at his hair. He groaned as he added another finger. There was no way you’d last.

“Spence, fuck. Feels so good…” You whimpered softly.

“You like this?” He grinned up at you. “Licking you like this while I finger you?”

“God, yes! Don’t stop, please!”

He was more than happy to comply, his tongue continuing. He slipped another finger into your soaked core. You almost screamed as he brushed that spot inside you that would easily end you right then.

“Spencer, please fuck me.” You begged.

“Is that what you want? To come on my cock?” He asked.

“Yes!”

He pulled way and slid his fingers out of you. You whined at the loss. You wanted him buried deep in you, claiming you. Spencer sat up and pulled you closer to the edge. Your cheeks were flushed and he could see how desperate you were for him. He kissed you gently and stroked your thighs.

“How do you want it?” He asked between kisses. “Like this?”

You felt his cock brush your entrance making your core clench.

“Or do you want me to fuck you over the side? Or maybe over the back?” He suggested.

You swallowed thinking of how you needed him gripping your hips.

“The back.” You whispered, kissing again.

He continued to kiss you as he stood up, pulling you with him. His hands slid down your hips and he turned you to face away from him. You climbed back into the chair on your knees, turning to look back at him.

“Is this comfortable for you?” He asked, kissing your neck as he stood behind you.

You just nodded, gripping the back of the chair. Spencer pulled your hips back, his cock slipping against you. You ached for him, needing to be completely consumed by him.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N.” He murmured as he pushed into you.

Your nails cut into the leather as you took him in. The way he stretched your walls was pure heaven. You moaned his name so loudly you were sure the neighbors would complain. He held you still, despite your efforts to push back against him. After what seemed like forever he finally moved. You were so glad the chair was against the wall because there was no chance you two would still be upright if it had been anywhere else. At first Spencer was gentle, slowly fucking against the leather, but once he was comfortably sure you were enjoying yourself he sped up his thrusts. You pushed yourself up so your back was against him. He reached an arm around you to hold you close. His lips attacked your neck and shoulders, leaving marks you knew you’d have to cover up.

“Don’t stop, please!” You begged.

“I won’t, don’t worry.”

He loved every sound you made. Every gasp, pant and moan he could elicit from you only made him crave more of you. Every mark you made on the chair would remind him of you every time he saw it. Spencer felt you flutter around him, signaling you were close. He knew when you got quiet your orgasm wasn’t far behind. He slid a hand down between your legs and stroked your clit.

“Spencer, fuck, fuck, fuck…” You gasped as he pushed you over the edge.

You saw white as you came undon, your body collapsing against the back of the chair and your teeth biting into it. Your hips pushed back to meet his as you rode out the high. You could feel him pulse inside you as he quickened his thrusts. Finally he let out a strangled moan as his hips faltered and he came hard in you. Your forehead rested against the leather as you recovered, catching your breath. Finally you felt his lips on your neck, pressing gentle kisses to your skin.

“You okay?” He asked softly.

“Mmhmm…” You nodded, lifting your head to look back at him.

He held you against him, “How was that?”

“I think that is probably the best sex I’ve ever had.” You laughed.

“I’d hope so considering every time I see that bite mark I’m going to think about you.” Spencer laughed.

You looked at the mark almost embarrassed. You hadn’t realized you done that.

“Oh…” You laughed with him. “Oops…”

“Don’t apologize. I like knowing I did that to you.”

You couldn’t help but blush deeply, which made him adore you even more.

Fin.