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imagine-darksiders · 6 months ago

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Transformers Prime: Optimus + Reader. Chapter 1.

So, I read @lovinglonerhybrid 's post here. And it absolutely had me in a chokehold, so this is based off that premise. I'm in the UK so please excuse my ignorance of American states lmao.

So, there is a part 2 to this, but I'm going away for 4 days and wanted to get some of it posted before then.

You've broken down fifteen miles short of Jasper's city limits in the dead of night. Deciding to hike in to town, you feel the earth rumble beneath you, and over the horizon, something enormous approaches...

Chapter 1: 9352 words.

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It’s a rare and covetous thing, to find even a single moment of peace in the midst of an intergalactic war.

The gap from one of those precious moments to the next seems to grow wider and wider every time, until their frequency is so negligible, it becomes hard to recognise them for what they are anymore.

For everything Earth could have offered Optimus Prime, he hadn’t been expecting it to relinquish the gift of peace so willingly. But he’s glad – more than glad – to accept them when they come, even if he’s only stealing glimpses of tranquillity on the sand-swept road leading out of Jasper.

Low-beam headlights lazily trace over the faded tarmac ahead of Optimus’s tyres as he trundles along Highway 49, one of only two roads that surround the small, sleepy city of Jasper. It’s a very routine patrol, one he obligingly excused Bumblebee from taking after his poor scout all but begged Optimus to give it to someone else, beeping out promises that he’ll take double shift tomorrow night, if need be.

All this on the back of Miko announcing another of her ‘slumber parties’ at the base, much to Ratchet’s noisy chagrin and Optimus’s private amusement. And, of course, when Bumblebee found out that Rafael would be staying the night too… Well…

‘You’re too indulging,’ their old medic had admonished from his workstation, the broad expanse of his back turned to the Prime, ‘He ought to learn he can’t always have his way.’

But it was a harmless indulgence, and Prime was more than happy to take over the patrol in this instance.

Besides, he had an arguably selfish reason for doing so.

If he’d admitted as much out loud, Ratchet would have scoffed and sent a pulse of chiding dismissal crashing into Optimus’s EM field. ‘You don’t have a selfish component in your body,’ he might say.

But this… Optimus muses, gazing skyward as he trundles down the highway in vehicle mode, letting the crisp, night air slide through his grill and cool his powerful engine… This is the appeal of a solo patrol.

Every now and then, there are times when the Decepticon activity goes quiet, Fowler has nothing to report, and Optimus can almost pretend that he’s just another Cybertronian enjoying a long, quiet drive through the Mojave wilderness. And while he remains ever vigilant, keeping every sensor poised outwardly in a constant surveillance of his surroundings, the old bot still permits at least one sense to wander.

Somehow, it’s always his sight.

Oftentimes he catches himself doing it. Other times, on nights that are quiet and still and clear like this one, there’s a wire-deep longing that overrides his logic gates, and the Prime won’t notice that he isn’t keeping his processor and his optics on the dusty road ahead of him. He’s too busy stealing long, pensive looks at the stars above him, scattered like a-hundred-billion souls sprawling across a curtain of crushed velvet.

It’s out there… somewhere… riding a lonely orbit on the furthest reaches of the galaxy’s Centaurus arm.

Cybertron.

Home.

Their first home, he amends gently, depressing his accelerator to speed up when he realises he’s starting to crawl. Earth is as much their home now as Cybertron ever was.

Sagging on his suspension with a low hiss, Optimus drags his hidden optics back to the road ahead, and all at once, he nearly lurches to a halt, his exhaust pipes sputtering out a hollow sound to betray his surprise.

There, parked several feet from the road a few hundred yards ahead of him, is a vehicle.

Prime’s senses sharpen to a startling focus.

Pumping his brakes, he slows down again, and the roar of his engine fades to a fluctuating hum.

A Decepticon…?

He doesn’t feel anything trying to breach his EM field, nor does he pick up on any resistance when his scanners hone in on the vehicle – ‘Ford. F250. A Pickup truck.’ Year….? Optimus’s focus narrows to a pinprick… ‘Eighty-seven.’

It’s red - a faded, dusky red like some of the sun-baked sandstone at Red Rock Canyon. As Prime’s massive form rumbles on through the night, looming closer and closer to the mysterious truck, his lights reflect off something situated above its rear bumper, the presence of which quells his flaring codes and eases his rigid frame.

A number plate.

Thick, black numbers and letters stand out against the white rectangle, though it isn’t the sequence that alleviates Optimus’s suspicion, it’s their mere presence.

No Decepticon he knows would ever suffer the ‘indignity’ of having a human number plate stapled to their bumpers.

Primus, even the Autobots have foregone the accessory after Fowler gave up trying to keep Bumblebee from losing his, Ratchet from ‘misplacing’ his, and Bulkhead from bending his irreparably whenever he transformed. Optimus had given it a go, for a time… mainly because he was growing worried that their overworked liaison would quite simply combust if he had to intercept one more phone call from ‘concerned civilians’ who were reporting a semi-truck driving through Jasper without its registration.

The Prime’s number plate came to its own crumpled end when he sat down on his berth one evening without removing it first.

One genuine, slightly sheepish apology to a very fed-up liaison later, and Optimus was informed that he and his team no longer needed to wear the plates.

So, the presence of one on this truck is a good sign. It’s less likely to transform and cause an incident.

That does, however, open up an entirely new avenue for concern to creep in.

A crash, perhaps?

Several dark skid marks indicate that it must have veered off the road after a hard, panicked brake.

He can’t pick up any biological signatures either. Even when he casts a wider net, all his sensors catch are the heat signatures of a few tiny, Earthen mammals scurrying about over the sand before they dart into various rock formations when he rolls by. But just because he isn’t picking up the presence of a living human, it doesn’t negate the possibility of a human being inside…

Frame suddenly taut, Optimus trundles to a cautious halt on the road alongside the truck, his engine idling like some great, murmuring beast in the quiet of the desert.

A throaty hum seems to escape his smokestacks as he peers down at the smaller truck, contemplative… considering… Then finally, relieved. There doesn’t appear to be anyone inside, judging by what his headlights illuminate through the cab windows.

What is it doing out here?

It definitely wasn’t here yesterday when he made the drive into Jasper. It isn’t a vehicle he recognises either, and he’s been doubly vigilant of late regarding all the civilian cars, bikes, trucks, vans, and even agricultural vehicles in and around the town.

Privately, he’s been compiling a catalogue of them all, for his own reference.

If there’s a threat to his human charges lurking about in their hometown, Optimus needs to know about it. A Decepticon disguised as a civilian vehicle would be an effective method of infiltration.

Casting one more, cursory ping out into the night to check that he’s definitely alone, he at last begins to unfurl himself into his bipedal mode. Metal plating slides away from his grill, pulling back and rolling along the body of the semi as he rises onto newly revealed pedes. The mechanical whines, whirrs and buzzes are terribly loud and alien amongst the desert’s natural ambiance, but soon enough, the air falls still once again, and a monolithic Cybertronian stands in the place where a Peterbilt used to be.

Soft, cerulean light spills over the abandoned truck as Optimus settles his optics upon it, easing his enormous frame down into a crouch and draping one arm across his knee with a ‘clunk.’

At first glance, he hadn’t noticed anything especially odd about the truck save for its unexpected presence. Leaning sideways, he casts an optic over the front bumper and finds nothing out of place, no damage to indicate a crash, no broken headlights or crushed bonnet.

It’s the same story with the truck’s bed. Only when Optimus hauls himself upright and treads carefully around it to inspect the other side does he notices the glaring problem.

The whole vehicle is canting onto its offside front tyre, a tyre that sports a rather sizeable puncture, considering how flat it is. And from the looks of it, this one was only ever meant to be used as a temporary spare. A quick glance into the truck’s bed reveals what he assumes must be the original tyre, flat as well, with the silver head of a nail jutting from the centre tread block.

Optimus clicks his glossa softly for the owner’s run of bad luck.

Right away, he sends a ping to his team, advising them to be wary of stray nails along this stretch…

He receives several pings in return. Immediately comes Bumblebee’s frustration, buzzed over the airwaves like a sulking sparkling who’s been told his toy was broken. Given the Scout’s inclination to race at top speed all over these roads, Optimus doesn’t doubt he’s just vexed at the shuddersome notion of having to slow down.

Arcee and Bulkhead respond in kind as their leader absently moves his attention to something strange obscuring part of driver’s window, letting their concern wash over his field.

‘Popped a tyre, Boss?’ Bulkhead’s message hits his comm, informal and probing, but with the warmth of care behind it.

Optimus is quick to send a pulse of reassurance back through their shared channel. He’s fine. If one little nail was all it took to take a Prime out of commission, they’d all be in serious, serious trouble.

The channels go quiet after Arcee and Ratchet send their short, concise responses, and once again, Optimus is alone on the road, peering down at a small sheet of paper that’s been taped to the inside of the truck’s front window.

Gradually, he furrows his optical ridges until they almost click together into one, solid line, the apertures inside each optic whirring and shrinking as he reads the words scribbled on the paper.

He recalls the first time he encountered the languages of Earth as they were written. The looping letters, graceful and elegant, chasing one another across the front of the letter Agent Fowler gave him as part of an unofficial welcome to the United States.

Optimus had held the paper so delicately between two of his digits, blinking down at the dark ink soaked into repurposed cellulose fibre. It was beautiful.

When he remarked as such, Fowler made a noncommittal comment that you could tell a lot about humans from their handwriting.

Optimus would sometimes find himself glancing over the children’s homework when they left their books out unattended on the table in their recreational area.

Jack’s neat and sensible cursive. Miko’s chaotic, glittery script that rose and fell and ventured outside the lines because she was usually paying more attention to her music than the words she wrote in her textbook. And Rafael, of course, with his quick, almost frantic stokes of the pen as he tried to scribble his thoughts down as fast as his brain could make them, only to end up losing his confidence halfway through a sentence, doubled back, drew a single line through the words, and started again on a fresh page.

This handwriting though… written in blue, splotchy ink and stuck with a piece of scotch tape to the truck’s window, makes Fowler’s words ring true in Optimus’s processor.

He can tell a lot about the human who wrote it.

‘Please don’t steal/break into my truck,’ it reads. The word ‘please’ has been underlined several times. ‘Not worth much, it’s all I’ve got. Tyre is flat, spare tyre too, so can’t get far anyway. Walking to town to find help bcos phone died and I don’t have a charger. Be back soon. Thanks.’

The ink has run in several places and rendered some of the letters illegible, as if water has been dropped on them from above.

Optimus isn’t naïve. He’s seen the children cry, more times than he can bear.

Then underneath all that, in much smaller writing stuffed underneath the first message like an afterthought they forgot to leave enough space for…

‘P.s, if the truck is still here in 3 days, assume I’m dead.’

With a sudden groan of his metal frame, Optimus braces a servo on his knee and hurriedly pushes himself to his pedes once again, helm swivelling sideways to stare down the length of the road.

The truck’s nose is pointed in the direction of Jasper, but the town itself is still about a fifteen-mile drive…

Surely they wouldn’t make the journey on foot…

But if the note is any indication, then…

His processor flashes again to the children; Miko in particular, and the alarming disregard she has for her own safety. The boys are guilty of that as well, though to a lesser degree.

Suddenly, there’s a very high likelihood that there might be a human wondering through the vast Mojave, alone. Worse still, Bumblebee had reported just last week that there’s been an increase in Decepticon patrols in the area around Jasper. No doubt Megatron has been ramping up his efforts to locate the Autobot base. Their growing presence in the vicinity of town makes these roads particularly treacherous…

Optimus ex-vents roughly, more troubled than frustrated.

Blue optics narrow at the road ahead, and once again, the peace of the desert night is filled by the sounds of living metal collapsing back in on itself.

A powerful engine roars to life. Somewhere nearby, a startled jackrabbit darts beneath the safety of a sagebrush, hiding herself amongst its silvery leaves.

Unblinking, her wild eyes stare after the great, thrumming beast as it moves on down the road.

—————-

You’ve had a lot of ideas in your life.

Some good. Some bad. Some that have paid off, but most that have gone nowhere at all.

Perhaps you were growing tired of going nowhere…

What else would have possessed you to up and move all the way to the middle of Nevada state on the back of a job offer that came from a man your uncle purported to know?

‘Oh yeah, Terry? Did a job with him a few years back for some cattle baron out in the sticks. ‘Course, Terry always wanted his own dairy… Want me to tell him you’re lookin’ for work?’

Turns out, Terry did end up getting that dairy he always wanted. And as it happened, he was looking for a farm hand.

Does it count as nepotism if you’re fairly sure your uncle had only met your future employer once?

Beyond a certain point, you simply couldn’t care less.

A job is a job, even if it is out here in the desert near a town you’d never heard of a month ago.

Dust-caked trainers trudge to a weary halt in front of a large, green road sign.

The moon, thankfully, hangs fat and luminous in the cloudless sky. So at least you don’t need a torch to see, not now that your eyes have had time to adjust the darkness cloaked over the desert.

With your run of bad luck, you half assumed the heavens would have opened by now and given the Mojave a nice, little dose of rain.

“Well,” you mutter aloud to yourself, peering up at the green sign with a grimace, “Could be worse…”

‘Jasper – 10 miles,’ reads like a slap to the face.

Still… It’s better than the fifteen miles.

You must have walked at least five already, dragging your legs behind you like extra baggage that doesn’t want to cooperate.

It has to be beyond midnight now. Well beyond, you suppose.

You’ve been walking for the better part of two hours, slow and sluggish and exhausted. The journey getting to Nevada had been tiring enough, then as soon as you crossed state lines, your tyre caught a puncture going over a particularly nasty pothole that had snuck up on you.

After an hour spent in the blazing sun jacking up the truck and changing to the spare, you set off again for another several hours of travel. Then, twenty miles out of Jasper, just as you dared to celebrate being home-free, the unthinkable had happened.

Who hits a pothole and drives over a nail in the same, damn day? Apparently, the same person who forgot to buy a charger adaptor for the truck.

No charger? No phone.

No phone…? No calling for help…

Your chest expands and deflates with a bone-tired sigh, turning your gaze back onto the long, dark road ahead of you. Tears sting at the inside of your eyelids, and for a moment, you consider letting them fall, if only to ease some of the pressure building up behind your temples. But crying hysterically about the unfairness of the world hadn’t un-punctured your spare tyre, so why would it help the situation now.

“Come on,” you coax yourself, hauling one leg out in front of the other. Rinse. Repeat. “Not far now.”

Just a few more hours…

The going is slow, tough, draining. Even the dark shapes of rocks start to look enticing as you pass them, letting your eyes slide over to them as you wonder just how safe it would be to fall asleep in the desert by the side of a road.

Ever since you broke down a few hours ago, you haven’t seen one, single vehicle out here.

‘Which,’ you hum, pursing your lips and tipping your head back to peer up at the bleary sky far above you, ‘Isn’t so bad…’

The stars are numerous, and startlingly clear out in the wilderness. The moon as well seems brighter here, unobscured by clouds. She makes for a quiet companion on your journey towards Jasper, her starry brethren endlessly stretching out to each corner of the horizon.

Suddenly, you feel very small. A hopeless traveller trying to find port in a sea of sand and rock.

Swallowing roughly, you hike your tattered rucksack high onto your shoulder and tear your gaze from the stars.

It’s quiet out here, save for the rustle of sage bushes disturbed by the warm breeze, and the skittering of rocks as night-time animals go about their hunts.

Perhaps that natural silence is why the sudden introduction of an entirely new sound unnerves you so much.

You jerk to a halt, ears straining to hear something approaching from the distance. Underneath the thin, worn soles of your shoes, you start to feel it; the road thrumming with gentle vibrations, growing stronger every second.

Lighting quick, you whirl around to face the way you’d come, hands flying up to grip anxiously at the straps of your rucksack.

You’d have thought you’d be excited to see those headlights rise up above the horizon line. At last! A stroke of luck! A potential ride! Potential help.

Instead, it’s as though the sudden appearance of two, dazzling lights blooming into view as they crest over the hill finally jar some sense back into your dizzy head.

The haze of fatigue lifts slightly, pushed away by little bursts of adrenaline as your brain fights to wake you up to an unconscious threat.

You’re alone out here. Defenceless, phoneless. You don’t know the area. Nobody knows you’ve broken down… You try so hard to think the best of people, but now that you’ve had one doubt, a hundred others start to scurry around in your brain, demanding attention.

You can see the vehicle, or their lights at least, but you doubt they can see you yet, this far down the road. You wonder what it is. Car? Truck?

… Alien spacecraft? Despite yourself, you let out a snort at that. Isn’t that infamous military base supposed to be in Nevada? The one hiding alien activity?

Right. Sure.

Despite your scepticism however, a thrill of fear rushes down the length of your spine as if to say, ‘Oh? But are you sure sure?’

Gulping audibly, you take a few steps sideways off the road, stealing a glance at a cluster of large rocks that sit conveniently just several yards to your rear.

You have a decision to make.

Maybe you’ve been alone on the road for too long, and isolation has bred a paranoia in you that’s so deeply rooted, you can’t shift it at a moment’s notice. If the sun was out, perhaps you’d be less apprehensive, but the night, no matter where you are, makes everything seem so much more… treacherous. It hides things. People, motivations, monsters.

And though it pains you to do so, you swiftly decide to err on the side of personal safety.

The vehicle is closer now, and your blood trembles as the roar of a loud, formidable engine thunders over the tarmac. Yet you’re still certain it isn’t close enough to have caught you in its high-beams.

On sluggish legs, you haul yourself about and make a clumsy dash for the rocks, clenching a fist around one strap of the rucksack and using your other hand to grab the closest rock and swing yourself behind it. Dropping to your backside, you flatten your spine against the cool, solid surface, eyes wide, heart beating hard against the cage of ribs keeping it from leaping up into your throat.

‘Coward,’ a voice in the back of your head scoffs, sounding suspiciously like your father. You shake it loose. Now is not the time to be bothered by old ghosts.

The thundering engine draws nearer, rumbling in your chest as it seems to creep towards your hiding spot at a pace even a glacier would be impressed by.

Around the corner of the rock, you can finally see the glow of its headlights smoothing over the tarmac, illuminating the sand and brush all around you. Hurriedly, you tuck your toes right into the shadow cast by your rock, keeping a breath held hostage behind clenched teeth.

“Come on… Come on,” you urge it frustratedly, aware that every second you spend not moving is another second towards sunrise. If you’re not on the dairy ready for work by then…

The vehicle rolls to a stop.

It stops.

The temptation to let out a frustrated scream is only held in check by your tongue getting stuck to the roof of bone-dry mouth.

They saw you. They must have seen you. There’s no way they could have known you were here otherwise.

Idiot!

Wasting time on the decision has only taken it right out of your hands in the end.

A bead of sweat escapes your hairline and rolls down the side of your face, following the curve of your cheek. Should you run? Keep hiding? Did they stop by coincidence? If they meant no harm, they’d have seen you hide and kept on driving, wouldn’t they? Stopping is suspicious. It conveys a desire to engage.

And then something really strange happens.

“Excuse me?”

And… Well, you’re… not entirely proud of the choked gasp that jumps out of you, nor the way you flinch as if you’d been struck.

When did they – He? It’s a low voice, deeper than anything you’ve heard in a long while, full of bass but soft like distant brontide.

When did he get out of the vehicle? You didn’t hear a door open, nor close.

You nearly jump out of your skin when he speaks again.

“I’ve frightened you…” Despite how gentle the timbre is, his voice is loud, like he’s speaking all around you, not just behind you. “I apologise,” the stranger continues, “That is the last thing I meant to do.”

What the Hell is he talking about?

There’s a long, unpleasant stretch of time until he speaks again.

“Was that your… Ford?” he asks, like he’s testing the word on his tongue, “Up the road?”

Shit. You’re starting to regret leaving that note. He must have read it and knew someone would be walking into town, alone and vulnerable.

The vehicle's powerful engine is still idling, strong and steady, buzzing along the ground and up through the soles of your feet.

It goes against your nature to ignore someone when they’re talking to you, but there’s still a part of you clinging to the hope that he’ll just give up and move on if you don’t respond or show yourself. Perhaps he’ll think you were just a figment of an overtired imagination…

Of course, instead, he persists. “Please.”

Jesus, he almost squeezes the word out, oozing dejection.

“You have nothing to fear from me… I’m a friend.”

A friend indeed. You huff quietly to yourself. You don’t even know him. He doesn’t know you. He’s trying to coax you out of hiding after watching you flee from his vehicle. Hardly the foundation for a good friendship. Still, you have to wonder why he doesn’t just come around the rock to stand over you if he’s so keen.

After another few seconds of stubborn silence on your part, the voice speaks again.

“Will you at least step back from the rock?”

What?

“There are scorpions on it, and I fear you’ll get-“

You don’t think you’ve moved so fast in quite some time. One moment you’re pressing yourself to the rock, and the next, you’re scrabbling to your feet with gusto, lurching away from your prior hiding space and spinning around, skin already crawling.

Sure enough, a pair of giant scorpions are scuttling around on the flat top, their tails held aloft, proud and large in the moonlight.

“-Hurt,” the stranger finishes.

Snatching your head up, you find yourself staring right into the vehicle’s headlights, and you instantly grunt with discomfort, raising a hand to shield your eyes from the light.

“Oh.” There’s a pause, the vehicle’s engine skips, and the lights suddenly dim, plunging you into almost darkness save for the dim glow of residual light. “Forgive me. Is that better?”

“Much. Thanks,” you respond automatically, only to turn rigid once you realise you’ve spoken aloud.

Well. He’s already seen you. No point pretending you can’t talk either…

Again, the stranger’s vehicle makes an odd noise, it’s engine hums gently, and as you lower your arm to seek out the man you’ve just opened a line of conversation with, you finally see what you’d been hiding from.

A monstrous Peterbilt sits squarely across the width of the road, entirely alien in the barren, rocky landscape. Smokestacks on either side of its cab reach towards the sky, glinting silver in the moonlight. It looks red under the meagre glow, with lighter panelling on the main body and dark, blue accents on the wheel trims and storage compartment. The grill is, in a word, massive, standing taller than you are, sporting a logo you don’t recognise on the front.

All in all, it’s a hell of a truck. Powerful, you imagine. Expensive too.

You try not to let your mouth hang ajar.

“Where-” Your voice cracks, still dry. “Ahem…! Where are you?”

Glancing around, your hackles start to rise. You can’t see the speaker anywhere. Which is why you let out an embarrassingly shrill yelp when his voice rumbles directly from the semi.

“I’m right here,” he assures you, polite enough not to show his amusement whilst you flap your mouth open and closed.

No, you shake your head. No, that is too weird. “What, are there like… speakers on the outside of your truck or something?”

There’s the tiniest of pauses, followed by a simple, concise, “There are.”

Oh. Well, then. That answers that burning question.

“Okay? So, um… Can I… help you?” you ask awkwardly, screwing one side of your face up.

The man seems to hesitate, allowing a pregnant pause to hang in the air between you before he replies, “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

Somehow, your expression twists even further south, and you begin casting your eyes over the semi, squinting through its dark windshield to try and catch a glimpse of what’s on the other side.

“I saw your truck on the side of the road,” the unseen man continues, “I feared you might have been hurt in a crash, so, I stopped to check that you weren’t still inside the vehicle. Then I found your note.”

He falls silent, and the air is dominated once again by the purring of his semi’s engine.

“Okay?” you prompt, still unsure of his motivations.

“It said you need help.”

He trails off, waiting. You’re promptly struck by the idea that he’s trying to guide you to some conclusion he hasn’t yet revealed. Finally, just as you start to grow restless, he forges ahead, “These roads can be hazardous for a lone hu-“

Suddenly, the truck’s engine revs, drowning out his voice for a second and sending you leaping backwards, startled.

“- A lone traveller…” he clears his throat just after the roar of its exhaust cuts out. Then, “Ah, If I may be so bold...”

All of a sudden, the passenger side door unlatches and swings open, and you’re presented with a clear invitation into the darkened cab. “May I offer you a ride into town?”

You wonder if he can see you turn stiff at his suggestion. Your body all but pleads on hands and knees for you to accept. What’s the worst that could happen, after all?

Well. You’ve watched several documentaries and movies that give you a pretty good indication of what ‘the Worst’ entails, thank you very much. You don’t like that he’s inviting you into his truck without showing his face to you yet. You’d like to gauge the person you’re speaking to. Get a bead on him. Is he big? Strong? Tall? Could you overpower him if it came down to it? Does he look like he’s hiding a weapon on him?

All these questions only serve to dry the moisture in your throat.

“I… That’s… very kind of you,” you admit, wringing your hands together as you take a small step away from the semi, “But I’m sure it’ll be okay, it isn’t that far.”

“At an average speed of three miles per hour, you will reach the outskirts of town in just under three and a half hours.”

You blink, caught off guard. ‘And they said we’d never need to use equations after we graduated.’

“Maths guy, huh?” you cock a hip, laying a hand across it and shooting the truck’s windshield a tentative smile, “Maybe I walk at four miles an hour.”

“Two and a half then,” he quips back just as smoothly, the door to his semi still hanging open. When he continues, you can’t help but notice that the cadence of his baritone voice rumbling through the speakers has turned to something a little more sombre, quieter, like he’s trying to impress upon you the gravity of a situation you don’t yet know about. “But time and distance aside, I do not wish to leave you to walk into Jasper by yourself, particularly at this time of night.”

He speaks like he’s been to elocution lessons. Every word seems to be carefully selected, every vowel and consonant articulate and refined.

It’s disarming. He’s disarming. But you’re still not convinced.

“Listen… Thank you, again. But…” It feels rude, like you’re committing some kind of faux pas in turning your back on the semi, yet you can’t shake the nagging voice at the back of your head, telling you that there’s something not quite right about the man in the truck. Not bad, just… off.

“It’s a kind offer,” you tell him again lamely, turning on your heel. And so, you recommence your weary march for Jasper, tossing one last sentiment over your shoulder, “But I’m sure I can make it on my own. Take care, okay?”

You almost expect him to argue, but all you can hear is the now familiar drone of the semi’s almighty engine. For several paces, you can feel a pair of eyes watching you, scrutinising and pensive, if a little baffled by your short yet polite dismissal.

When you make it another ten feet, heaving your tired legs after you over the tarmac, your ears perk up to the sound of an engine revving.

Smokestacks chugging, the massive truck pulls out of its standstill, unseen behind you.

Chewing on the inside of your lip, you keep your gaze fixed to the ground ahead and raise a hand, flapping it about in an apologetic farewell as you meander further off the road and onto the sand, giving him plenty of space to get past.

You start to frown when you make it twenty paces without being overtaken by the truck.

That frown only grows deeper when the engine keeps churring away behind you, rubber tyres crunching tiny particles of sand under their treads as it crawls along in your wake.

Is he…?

Tearing your eyes off the toes of your shoes, you send a fleeting glance over your shoulder, surprised – but not much – to find the nose of the Peterbilt creeping slowly along in your peripheral vision, keeping pace with you.

Your frown eases back, and you quirk a brow at him instead, calmly asking, “What are you doing?”

And just as easily, the voice returns, “If you will not allow me to drive you, I will happily escort you to your destination.”

You can’t help yourself.

“Ha! ‘Escort.’” The snicker jumps out of you faster than you can raise your hands to press your fingertips against an unbidden grin. “Sorry,” you immediately try to amend, “You just sounded so serious.”

“… I… am serious?”

Letting your hand flop back to your side, you give your head a shake, still grinning. You really do meet all sorts on the road.

“Regardless, I’m sure you have far better things to be doing with your time.”

How the truck matches your walking speed without his engine faltering or sputtering, you’ll never know.

A strange noise gurgles from its exhaust, almost perfectly reminiscent of a troubled hum.

“On the contrary,” the driver responds, pulling forwards a little until only the grill overtakes you, and for a moment, you worry he’s about to drive across your path, “There is nothing at the moment that concerns me more than getting you safely where you need to go.”

Huh. Of all the genuine, stubborn…

“Look.” Your shoes scuff up a cloud of sand as you draw to an abrupt and decisive halt, turning bodily towards the truck. Hands splayed on your hips, you glare at the windscreen, aiming approximately for the driver. A second later, he must have hit the brakes because the semi lurches to a stop as well, hissing noisily.

Still, he doesn’t step out.

“You seem like a nice guy,” you start, trying to keep your chin raised and your tone stern. You fail, of course. Your voice cracks nervously, but at least you try. Taking a deep, steadying breath, you finally elect to stop beating around the bush and just address the elephant in the room – or desert, as it were.

“But I don’t make it a habit to get into random trucks with strangers.” You make it a point not to directly accuse him of having ulterior motives, but you hope you’ve at least driven home your main concern. At best, he’ll grow offended that you’d think him capable of such a thing and – hopefully – move on. At worst… Well. You brace yourself for that, teeth grit so tightly, your jaw starts to ache as you flick your eyes over towards the truck’s driver-side door, waiting.

The truck in question does something odd then. It… sinks? At least you think it does, lowering on its axles by a few inches like the wheels have just deflated. It’s difficult to tell in the dim moonlight though, and it’s over so quickly, you can’t be sure you saw anything at all that wasn’t just a trick of the desert.

How long have you been awake?

You’re busy calculating the hours you were driving when the stranger’s voice is kicked out over the speakers again.

“You assume I mean you harm…” he utters.

And just like that, the stern, rigid scowl is instantly wiped off your face.

He sounds…

…sad.

Not offended. Not angered by your thinly-veiled implication.

Just sad. Dispirited, even. As if it’s only just occurred to him that you might have perceived him as a threat.

It’s almost painful when the pair of you dissolve into an uncomfortable silence that lasts for several beats of your rapid-fire heart.

Biting down on the inside of your cheek, your brows drift apart whilst you try to think of something to say. Trouble is, you’re afraid that speaking again will only make things worse.

You have no idea what’s going through his head. What if his dejected tone is followed by something worse?

“I’m sorry,” you backtrack, pressing your lips together and chiding yourself for faltering, “It’s nothing personal, just… I-I should probably get going before I fall asleep standing up.” You give a stilted laugh, but it soon turns into an awkward sound made at the back of your throat, lips pulled over your teeth in a grimace.

Dipping your head, you swallow thickly and grip the straps of your rucksack again. But just as you make to turn away, the semi’s wheels abruptly twist towards you. It’s ever so slight, just enough that the truck rolls a few paces in your direction before it stops again, its grill pointed straight at you.

With an audible gulp, you go to take another step back, staring at the metal in anticipation. Your retreat is soon halted by the mellow rumble of his voice.

“I understand your hesitation. And I know that the word of a stranger may not hold much weight,” he begins slowly. The Peterbilt inches forwards again. “But I can assure you, you have nothing to fear from me…”

Shifting on your feet, you let go of your bag and clutch instead at your elbows, brows tipped up indecisively. He’s persistent, you’ll give him that. He also speaks with a candour you’ve never encountered outside of a film or a storybook. Frank and forthright in a way you’ve never been privy to. Is that why you’re hesitating? Is that why he seems ‘off?’ Because his level of sincerity doesn’t have a place in your world?

Perhaps you’ve been spending so much time by yourself, it’s turned you distrustful. Maybe you’re just getting cynical. Looking back on your journey here, you realise that only other person who you’ve spoken to was a disinterested server who took your order at a drive-thru… That was four days ago. How long before that did you listen to someone who wasn’t the people on your truck’s radio?

Why is it so suspicious that this trucker wants to help? Hell, you’d be concerned as well if you saw some poor bastard hiking alone through the desert at night without a friend in the world.

Christ, you need some perspective.

The driver must see the conflict painted like a brand across your expression.

“Would it reassure you to know that this vehicle is operated entirely remotely?” he pipes up.

You blink once. Then again to wake yourself up a little more, pulled from your inner turmoil. “What?”

“This vehicle,” he tells you, “It is an unmanned vehicle.”

Curiosity overtakes suspicion faster than you can uncross your arms and stare at the grill dumbly, face opening up in surprise. “Wait. You mean it’s one of those self-driving things?”

“In a sense.” The semi’s engine rumbles softly, and the not-driver adds, “I am what you might call… the safety driver.”

Now that is curious.

You don’t even realise you’ve taken a step closer. “Really? But I thought that sort of tech was still in testing?”

“It is,” he replies, “We are, however, attempting to advance to field-tests, to see if these vehicles can autonomously haul freight in areas with sparser populations, to minimise the risk of collision.”

“Hence why you’re driving it out here in the middle of the night,” you realise aloud, raising an inquisitive brow at the windscreen, “So you’re really not in there? You’re driving it from somewhere else?”

“Would you care to see for yourself?” he asks kindly.

Your wide eyes flit to the passenger door when it eases open once again, though this time, it seems far less foreboding than before.

Tugging a loose piece of skin between your teeth, you give the silver steps leading to the door a scrutinising glance.

That does reassure you…

Slowly, still at least a little wary, you coax your legs to move, and they begrudgingly carry you onto the road. You approach the semi-truck with all the caution of a doe crossing an open meadow.

As you venture closer, its engine kicks up a notch, emitting a steady, gentle purr as if the vehicle itself is pleased with your acquiescence.

Suddenly, as you move along to the open door, you’re dazzled by a light flickering on inside the cab, bathing what you can see from this angle in a calm, golden hue.

From down here, it looks… just like an ordinary interior.

And lo and behold, as you stand on your tiptoes to see in, you find the driver’s seat is eerily devoid of its occupant.

You let out a breath that emerges shakier than you would have liked it to.

“Wow,” you laugh, impressed.

Maybe just a quick peek…

A vast chunk of apprehension breaks away from your chest and vanishes into the ether as you shuffle towards the steps, raising an arm and stretching your fingers across the space to the grab handle that sits invitingly just beside the open door.

This side of the truck is bathed in silver moonlight, and it’s only now that you’re this close that you happen to notice something you hadn’t before.

You almost wince when you spot them.

Although shiny and speckled with only the lightest dusting of desert sand, the metal panelling on the semi is covered in signs of wear and tear.

Enough to give you pause, at least.

For a moment, you’re taken aback, turning bodily away from the open door and cocking your head at the myriad of scratches that criss-cross their way up towards the semi’s roof.

All the paint in the world couldn’t hide some of those shallow nicks and lines that have been scraped out of the metal. In any case, something big must have scuffed it. Perhaps another driver in their own Peterbilt? Or perhaps it’s all damage sustained in testing the vehicle’s automated capabilities.

Clicking your tongue, you absently raise a hand to stroke your fingertips gingerly along the length of a particularly prominent scratch by the door.

“Oh dear,” you tut softly at the side of the truck, “You’ve been in the wars, haven’t you?”

Without warning, the engine that had been buzzing so gently suddenly ramps up and starts to vibrate firmly beneath your fingers, so strong you can even feel it judder the ground through the soles of your feet.

Recoiling like you’ve been zapped, you whip your head around to peer through the open door, half expecting the driver to admonish you for touching his vehicle.

As swiftly as it started however, the thrumming engine dies down, and the truck returns to its soft, benign idling. “My apologies,” comes that gentle voice again through the speakers, “Just an overactive combustion chamber.”

“Is it... safe to ride in?” you retort, giving the back of the truck a sidelong glance.

“You will find very few vehicles safer than this one,” he tells you patiently, “I will not allow any harm to befall you, as I would not allow it to befall any of my passengers.”

Your shoulders jump with a silent laugh. “Befall,” you parrot, fighting a smile, “I love the way you talk.”

“… You do?” His speakers buzz with a pleasant hum.

Fingers flexing anxiously, you reach out once again and slide them around the grab handle beside the door, finding that it’s unexpectedly warm under your palm.

“So, I just… get in?” you ask, only to cringe immediately, realising you probably sound like a fool who’s forgotten how to get into a truck.

Before you can rebuke yourself harshly though, the absent stranger offers his response. “Do you require assistance?”

“No, no,” you rush out, placing one foot on the first, silver step and hoisting yourself up off the ground, bringing yourself level with the cab’s seats.

Your eyes grow wide with wonder as you take in the interior.

“Oh, wow,” you breathe, suddenly hesitant to pull yourself up those last few feet.

“Is there something wrong?”

“It’s just… It’s so clean!”

Laid out before you is a perfectly ordinary truck cabin. Soft, grey leather covers the seats, with the same dark colouration on the roof, doors and most of the glovebox, interspersed by a rich, black steering wheel. The soft light, you discover, is emitted by multiple strips of blue neon LEDs that the driver must have fitted underneath the radio dials and dashboard, casting the truck’s interior in a cool, soothing glow.

But most astonishingly, for as much as you search, you can’t spot a single thing out of place. It’s absolutely immaculate. There isn’t one receipt stuffed in the door pockets, no traces of sand or gravel dirtying the footwells, no loose change tossed into the centre console…

Dumbfounded, you glance into the back, but all you find it a dark, grey panel and a shelf set back into the semi’s rear wall, meant for use as a bed, you surmise. It’s empty, unsurprisingly. Not a blanket or a pillow in sight.

Finally, your suspicions are put to rest. This truck doesn’t look lived in at all. He really is operating it remotely.

“God, it looks brand new in here,” you marvel aloud, suddenly hyper-conscious of the abysmal state of your old pickup. The scratches on this semi’s exterior play briefly on your mind but you brush your musings aside, too fatigued to consider the contradictions of a worn exterior but an immaculate interior.

Instead, you feel a frown crease the skin between your brows.

It really is immaculate in here…

Glancing down, you scowl disdainfully at your filthy shoes, the tank-top that’s stained irreparably by dropped food and greasy finger-smears, and trousers that are tattered and worn at their hems.

“Is everything all right?” the ‘driver’ asks again. His voice must emerge from the speakers on each door, low and warm, filling up the cabin.

“My shoes are dirty,” you admit out loud, your grip on the handle turning slack until you sink a few inches back to the first step, “I’m dirty. I-I don’t want to get sand and crap all over your truck.”

“I don’t mind.”

Spoken with more consideration than you’ve heard in a long, long time.

You pause at once, brows tipping up in the centre of your forehead.

A deep inhale through your nose brings with it the unobtrusive scent of leather, with the faintest undertone of adhesive sealers, giving the interior that ‘new truck smell’ that so many drivers try to replicate artificially.

Comparatively, it’s been several days since you passed a rest stop that had showering facilities. Those that did asked for a hefty charge. You’d glanced down at the handful of coppers in your centre console and decided you could go without. Now, you’re starting to regret that decision. Every now and then, whenever you raised your arms to stretch or flip the visor down in your pickup, you’d catch an unpleasant whiff of yourself wafting out from under your light, cotton shirt.

Embarrassed as you are to confess that you’ve been severely neglecting your personal hygiene, you swallow past a lump in your throat and croak, “I… haven’t exactly washed for a couple of days… I wouldn’t want to make your truck smell…”

And in a tone so kind it threatens to brings a tear to your eye, the stranger answers consolingly, “I think your scent is perfectly fine.”

It’s so damnably genuine, you can’t even find it in yourself to point out that he isn’t here to smell you, so his point is moot.

“I…” One more cop-out strikes you. “I don’t have any money,” you murmur truthfully, ashamed, “I can’t pay you for the fuel, or-“

“-I ask for nothing in return but your company,” is all he says, cutting you off as gently as his profound voice will allow.

And just like that, you’re out of viable excuses. Or perhaps your body has noticed the comfortable seats right in front of it and you don’t have enough fight left in you to deny it a sit down. Besides, any reasons you come up with to dip are likely to be met with a counterpoint.

Even so, you can’t help but hesitate for one more question, hand clasping and unclasping around the grab handle. “Are you sure it’s okay? I’m not going to get you in trouble or anything am I?”

The next sound that hums through his speakers is so soft and rich, you think it’s the truck’s engine playing up again, at least until the stranger cuts the noise off by saying, “You do not look like trouble to me.”

If he only knew.

The sound prior, you realise, was a chuckle, the first one you’ve heard out of him yet. Something in the measure of it settles the last of your nerves, only slightly, just long enough to have you throwing caution to the wind. With a final heave, you pull yourself the rest of the way inside, sliding gingerly into the comfortable passenger seat. You never notice how the metal below your foot shifts microscopically, lifting you closer to the cab.

It takes a lot of restraint not to let your eyes drift closed, nor to slump backwards into the wondrously giving material on your spine.

Instead, you sit stiffly with your rucksack keeping you upright, legs pressed together, hands folded neatly in your lap. If you make any kind of mess in here, you’ll be mortified.

After a moment, you remember to close the door, but just as you turn and peel a hand off your thigh, you jolt, staring agog at the door as it swings slowly shut with a dull ‘click.’ All of its own accord.

“Full remote access,” the voice pipes up as the engine below you roars to life, and then you’re moving, and all you can do is stare through the window at the desert drifting by whilst trying to ignore the uninvited ache in your chest.

“Seatbelt.”

His gentle prompt spurs you to reach over and grab the fabric near your shoulder, tugging it across your body and fumbling a little to slot it into place. Suddenly, you feel an invisible pull on the belt, and the metal buckle finds its way into the socket on your next pass.

‘Must be magnetic,’ you muse distractedly.

“Are you comfortable?”

Blinking back the moisture in your eyes, you turn to glance at the empty driver’s seat. It’s bizarre, and more than a little unsettling to see the steering wheel turn itself around as the truck pulls back onto the road, driven by unseen hands.

When you don’t immediately respond to his query, the man continues just as patiently as before. “If it is too cold, I can turn up the heater. Or… perhaps you are too warm…” He hums to himself, thoughtful. “You have been exerting yourself.”

You instantly become aware of the light sheen of sweat that hasn’t quite dried on your forehead. Puckering your face up into a solemn smile, you shake your head and at last respond. “Not to worry. It’s very comfortable in here.”

What follows is a poignant moment of hesitation before the voice speaks again. “Forgive me if I’m overstepping, but… You do not seem comfortable…”

The open-ended statement fades into silence, and you’re left casting nervous glances around the cabin again. “How do you-?” you start, tugging your shirt further down your arms, “Can you see me? Like… in here?”

Again, there’s a pause, barely longer than a second, yet long enough for you to notice it.

“Cameras,” comes his measured response, “Both external and internal. They’re how I spotted you on the road.”

“Oh, I hadn’t even considered that… Of course.”

Suddenly self-conscious, you reach up and begin to paw uselessly at your dishevelled hair, humming though a thin-lipped smile. “I must look a sight,” you half joke.

“You look tired…” he replies diplomatically, and there’s nothing in it for you to be offended by.

Rubbing a thumb over the wrinkle slowly carving a home between your brows, you heave a dreary sigh. “It’s been a long journey.”

“I can only imagine… And… Where does it culminate, if I may?”

“Terry’s Dairy?” you offer, “Uh, it’s this little farm just on the outskirts of Jasper.”

The truck beneath you gives a reverberating thrum. “I know the pastures, but I’m afraid you will find they lay beyond the ‘outskirts’ of the city.”

Letting out a groan, you knock your head back against the seat behind you, staring bleakly up at the ceiling. “Of course… How far?”

“Only a few miles, to the East of Jasper. We’re coming in from the Northwest highway. I can get you there in twenty-five minutes.”

“Twenty- Oh, no, no. You really don’t have to do that,” you protest, shifting in the seat to frown at the empty driver’s seat in lieu of anywhere else to look, “Just drop me off in town and I’ll walk the rest. You’re already going out of your way for a stranger.”

“I am dropping you off at your destination and not a mile before,” he tells you steadily.

His uncompromising tone brooks no argument.

You stare at the spot a person should be for several, long moments, debating how much you could push an argument. He’s already coaxed you into his truck, his powers of persuasion are rather good. What chance do you have, sleep-deprived as you are?

Conceding sullenly, yet appreciatively, you let your back touch the seat, settling into it a little less hesitantly. “You won’t be taking no for an answer, I assume?”

He only lapses into a stubborn silence, an answer in and of itself.

That quiet is broken, however, when you suddenly let out all the air from your lungs, a smile growing across the width of your face as the breath escapes your nostrils in a sigh. “Thank you for this… Really. You’re saving me a lot of grief.”

The blue neons on his dashboard seem to flare a bit brighter for all of a second before they dim again. “I am glad to be of service,” he replies warmly.

“Oh my god,” you blurt without warning, leaning forwards in the seat and staring through the windscreen with wide eyes, “I’m so sorry, you’re being so nice and I’m so rude – I never asked your name.”

“Nor did I yours,” he points out, “You may call me Op-“

Suddenly, a burst of static buzzes through the radio. You shoot it a funny look.

“Optimus,” the stranger admits over the static with a hesitance you pick up on right away, drawing your gaze from the dash, “My name is Optimus.”

“Optimus?” you repeat incredulously, a small smile quirking at the edges of your mouth, “Wow… You must have had creative parents.”

“I appreciate that it might seem… an unusual name…”

“It is,” you agree pleasantly, “I like it. Makes you sound cool. Unique. My parents just stuck me with Y/n.”

At once, Optimus echoes your name, and you’re jarred by the sound of it coming from someone else’s lips, reverberating around the truck. It’s been a while since anyone used it.

“Y/n,” he says again in his velvety timbre, “It’s a fine name. I like yours too.”

#Optimus Prime #TFP #optimus x reader #Reader #Fluff #protective optimus #Nevada

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chxrryhansen · 1 year ago

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౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ Cherry’s SStan Series Rec List

here are my sebastian stan series fic recs! they are mostly bucky barnes series but mainly Au’s! i will be creating separate lists for cevans one shots and sstan one shots😚

Clockwork - @sgt-seabass

When life seems to be finally back on track, a visit by a mob boss to your dainty town changes everything. (Dark!Alpha Nick Fowler)

The Soldat And The Sparrow - @navybrat817

Your fire burns for the Winter Soldier. And one day, you'll be free. Both of you.

For The Love Of The Game - @pellucid-constellations

Bucky Barnes was a menace. NYU’s top baseball player, he was used to girls falling at his feet and could smooth talk his way out of just about anything. You hated him. He couldn’t figure out why. So when the novelty of weekend parties and quick hookups finally wore off—and his feelings for you began to grow—he made it his mission to fix it.

The Heart Is A Deep Ocean - @dreamlessinparis

Titanic was known as the ship of dreams. For you, it was the dream of getting home, or so you thought. From the moment you locked eyes with James Buchanan Barnes, all those dreams changed and your life was never the same.

Everything’s Better In WestView - @espinosaurusrexex

Bucky and Y/N sneak into Westview to have the perfect life. Away from late Steve and Tony, Vision and Natasha, they let themselves be consumed by suburban magic. To their surprise, however, some of these people aren’t so dead in the town. And there are some other weird things happening that make them question their sanity. But that’s okay, right? ‘Cause everything’s better in Westview.

The Bride Of Soldat - @vampy-doll

In the summer of 1986, a young woman goes missing whenever HYDRA kidnaps her to be their next experiment for the reward of their Soldat. Now, post blip, Bucky starts to remember defining details of his love, his match made in hell, and is determined to find her. But after years of isolation and torture after his escape, she isn’t who he remembers. Now they’re trying to piece together who she was pre-HYDRA to teach her how to live, without his undying love and obsession of her getting in the way. But when one head is cut off, two more shall grow in its place, leaving them to discover those behind her abduction.

Awake My Soul - @foreverindreamlandd

It's been five years since zombies first started walking the Earth, destroying anything and everything in their wake. Now, in this apocalyptic world, fighting for survival comes as naturally as breathing. The one thing you've learned ever since they arrived, though, is that the living can be so much more dangerous than the undead. When you stumble across two young, scared boys lost in the woods and being chased by walkers, you go against your better judgment and help them to safety. Little did you know that helping them would lead you to Bucky - an angry, grumpy, distrusting member of the camp Shield. Bucky has zero interest in having you enter his life. He's been hurt before and lost too many people to risk experiencing that kind of pain again, and he knows that there are secrets you aren't telling the group. Yet, when push comes to shove, and you're put at risk, he'll stop at nothing to keep you safe.

Guiding Light - @wkemeup

It was supposed to be a simple mission. Get the intel and go home. Until everything goes wrong and you’re taken captive by Hydra. While you struggle to stay alive and hold your sanity, Bucky begins to lose himself to a darkness and gives into the soldier because he doesn’t know how to breathe without you. Not until he brings you home. If he even can.

The Witness - @wkemeup

Owner of a bar full of criminals, maybe you shouldn’t be surprised when you’re the sole witness to a hydra hit. In comes Detective Barnes, the quick-witted, flirtatious cop who somehow became a regular at your misfit bar. When he takes it upon himself to ensure your safety off the books, you learn to rely on someone else for a change and find you don’t mind it at all. Not when it’s him.

Under Oath - @ugh-supersoldiers

The people called for justice, the state answered. The trial of State v. Barnes is set to begin, and the odds are most certainly not in favor of the not so beloved ex Winter Soldier. That’s where you come in, the quick, smart, and all too brave lawyer set on defending and saving one Bucky Barnes from legal prosecution. The only problem? He’s not so sure he’s worth saving at all.

Just One Kiss - @sarahwroteathing

Bucky Barnes has been chasing after you since he was ten years old, but you’re determined not to give in. How long can you hold out when all he’s asking for is just one kiss?

He’s Hazardous To My Health - @writing-for-marvel

Bucky Barnes is a beefy paramedic with a traumatic past, who has left a trail of broken hearts behind him. You are a resident doctor new to town, who barely has time to date between long shifts. When your paths cross in your ER during a disaster, is it the start of something magical, or are you destined to be just another of Bucky’s former flames?

Just Try - @waiting4inspiration

Perfectly happy with your life at the Avengers’ compound, an alpha walks into your life, flipping it completely over and revealing secrets you hoped you had buried a long time ago.

Дорогая - @waiting4inspiration

Bucky's Winter Soldier programming has been triggered. Turns out the Winter Soldier has a thing for you.

Red Ties - @sebstan2020

Mary, a sweet Christian girl living in the city of Brooklyn as a nurse had a simple life. She loved her work, her friends and attending church every Sunday and helping Reverend Owens. Her life was nothing out of the ordinary. However, it all changed one day when she bumps into the intriguing and intimidating James Barnes, Brooklyn’s notorious mafia boss and is introduced to a world of guns, lust and dominance.

Delicate Edges - @wkemeup

Your family’s beloved flower shop was not the only thing you inherited when your parents passed. Trapped under a mountain of debt to the Hydra club, you bear the cost of your father’s desperate bargain. It’s only in moments when the charming Bucky Barnes walks into your shop that you can forget the cruelty of the biker clubs of this town. But a war is brewing. The border is crumbling. You're trapped in the middle. And Bucky will stop at nothing to keep you safe.

Pride And Privacy - @adrinktostopyourthirst

Bucky works on himself as he gets used to a roommate. Turns out, she has a much better room than him and he crossed the line.

Feelings Are Fatal - @sunmoonandeddie

After the events of Endgame, you struggle to come to terms with what you’ve lost, though you’re learning that you still have something to gain.

Appointments - @noctumbra

bucky barnes, finally being able to live freely in 21st century, accidentally gets a fuck buddy and starts to rediscover himself. the only weird thing about this situation is that you have to make an appointment to get railed by him.

Lazarus - @sagechanoafterdark

Things are complicated between you and James Barnes. For you, life doesn’t mean much when you never stay dead for very long. But it might just be an ex-soviet assassin that convinces you to start living again.

Its A Deal - @justreadingfics

You’re out of a relationship of 10 years and you’re just in desperate need to get laid, no strings attached, no romance, no complications. You dear friend Natasha feels like she’s going to regret this later, but she might have the perfect guy to fulfill your needs.

The Two Of Us - @bucky-bucket-barnes

You and Bucky go to investigate the phenomenon happening in Westview, New Jersey. While attempting to understand the issue, you yourselves are sucked into Wanda's world of pretend. Now, you believe yourselves to be the happily married Mr. and Mrs. Barnes; in real life, you are most definitely not a happy pair. It is up to you and Bucky to piece together what's happening while dealing with one another inside the hex.

Snow - @delaber

Tired of your constant bickering, Sam sends you and Bucky on a mission alone. When the worst possible outcome happens and you’re forced to spend several days together in a small cabin, you finally get to see a different, more pleasurable side to the man whose flesh you’ve always had a thorn in.

All Good Things - @sagechanoafterdark

After only three days of dealing with the annoying specter haunting you, you break the rules and accidently give a ghost a body. So what do you do when you find out the man you’re now sharing your your apartment with isn’t really a ghost and that haunted touch is a little warmer than you realized?

Welcome Home… Soldat? - @winterarmyy

Y/N had make a habit of greeting Bucky a warm 'welcome home' everytime he came back from his missions, but there was one particular day when she unknowingly greeted someone else.

Heavy Metal Lover - @mypoisonedvine

every client is different, with different needs; but this client is, in every way, exceptional. (Sub!Bucky Barnes + Dominatrix!Reader)

Parent-Teacher Conference - @coffeecatsandcandles

James Barnes, a widowed single dad, had forgotten what love felt like and let it crush him, taking his daughter, Rebecca, with him. He was cold, rude, and arrogant, being one of the few teachers at Westview High School the students seemed to absolutely despise. But when you show up, a hopeful math teacher who’d previously taught Rebecca’s kindergarten class, and are adored by your students and colleagues- James’s attitude starts to change.

Duck & Cover - @whirlybirbs

you’re the howling commandos’ new medic (Sniper!Bucky Barnes)

Winter’s Mate - @maggyme13

The Winter Soldier threatens to get out of control with his instincts taking over more and more. After years of supressed ruts his body built up a resistance and Hydra need to find another solution. Deciding it would be the easiest to just give in. Hydra kidnapped the reader to turn her into a Omega in Heat using injections whenever needed.

Key’s In Your Ignition - @georgiapeach30513

Caught up in a sexual relationship with your father’s Vice President, and trying to not get caught. Blind to everything else that’s going on in the club, and even your old crush, Bucky Barnes. Not even noticing your brother and best friend flirting, until your father suddenly passes, and things in the club drastically change. (Ari Levinson + Bucky Barnes + Harvard Hottie- Hayden)

#chxrrys fic recs #sebastian stan #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fic recs #fic recs #sebastian stan x reader #nick fowler #nick fowler x reader

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mathewharris7703 · 9 months ago

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I love this a lot! It looks really sweet. Great work! Thank you very much!

Commission for @mathewharris7703 of his OC Fowler Hedgehog sitting on a nice marble bench!

Enjoy!! And thank you!!!

Commission rates

#sonic oc #sonic #oc #commission #not my art #fowler hedgehog #love this a lot #marble bench #bench #town #sitting #umbrella

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 25 days ago

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Blurred Lines 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, power imbalance, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your relationship with your boss takes an unpredictable turn.

Characters: Nick Fowler

Note: He is a baby, we know it.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You were married with a bouquet of sunflowers. Your mother hated them. You didn’t care. Nothing about your wedding was typical or traditional. Just in the backyard with a belly full of Josephine already growing.

You have a similar bunch of yellow petals in hand that day. As you come to the headstone, you see a bottle cap on the corner. Joey must have come before she left town and had a soda with dad, like old times. You lay the flowers down and groan as you lower yourself to the grass.

“Hey honey,” you rub your hips, “ugh, getting old sucks.” You sigh and stare at the letters of your husband’s name. “Wish you were around to realise that.”

You laugh sardonically as a tingle of tears threatens behind your eyes. You sniff but don’t let them free. You still cry for him but now isn’t the time. It was easier to let it all out when he was around to make you laugh.

“So, did Joey tell you everything? She always gave you more secrets than me. Did she tell you about the girl? Of course she did,” you tut and shake your head. “She won’t even tell me her name.” You look down and twist the blades of grass together. “You would be proud. I know you are. She’s going to be a lawyer.”

You quiet and let the silence mull. You flick the tips of the green blades and let out another heave. You don’t want to ruin the visit by talking about work.

“You remember when she decided to show up? I didn’t even know my water broke and you went and slipped in it...” you pause and touch your eyes. Stop. “And the grocery store thought you were going to sue.”

You cackle through the wall of tears, threatening to topple. I had to drive to the hospital because you couldn’t sit or stand straight.” You click your tongue as you remember, “but you were there. You say in that wheel chair and shared my pain. And my joy.”

Your cheeks wet and you curse your heart.

“She’s a great girl. No, a great woman. I love her so much,” you mop your face with your sleeves. “I love you.”

A breeze stirs and ruffles the long petals of the sunflowers. You stare at the brown centres. You’re back standing in the backyard, his hand around yours... Then it’s gone and you’re back in the dirt.

You sit a little longer. The first year after the funeral, you didn’t come back. You couldn’t. Then it got easier. It was a comfort, not a fear.

“Well, you know, I'll be back. I always needed you around to keep me accountable, huh,” you get to your knees and your lower back buckles. “I wish you were here to tease me and call me old. My back.”

You stand and stretch. You touch a kiss to your fingers and touch the headstone. “See ya round, stud.”

You take your time leaving. The cemetery is beautiful, contrary to its purpose. The grass is green and well kempt, the stones are lined up perfectly, and the paved walkways wind through like a fairytale road.

You come to the gates and feel the void return. Right there in your chest. You exhale and face the world. Alone.

You dig in your purse, looking down as you fight to untangle your keys from the cheap wired earbuds you use for your walks. You lift your chin as you come up to your car and stop short. You barely keep a frown from creasing your face.

Nick leans on your car, arms crossed, watching your approach. How did he find you? Maybe you should have checked your phone.

“I called,” he says.

“Sorry, sir, I was busy,” you shrug. He doesn’t seem impressed as his cheeks dimple.

“Your contract is on-call,” he insists.

You take another breath. Why is he here? You don’t get how he found you. Well, didn’t he say that’s part of his job? He can know everything if he wants.

“You dismissed me, sir, so I thought--”

“I didn’t fire you. I was out of town,” he pushes his shoulders wider.

“Understood. I’ll go right over--”

“Did I ask you to?” He unfolds one arm and shows his palm.

You shake your head. He’s still in a mood. You’ll let him get it out. You do not good assuming his intentions.

“So, who were we visiting?” He asks. You wince.

“Sir,” you answer bluntly.

He huffs, “fine. Doesn’t matter. I don’t got time to argue with a maid.”

So why are you here? The retort is bitter as it stays on your tongue. You’re not easily flustered, you do your best not to get annoyed, but he’s managed to tweak your nerves.

“I have a thing. Need a suit.”

“I brought clean ones the other day, sir--”

“New suit. It’s work. Big guys are gonna be there.”

You don’t mention that his last ‘work event’ unfolded like a frat party. It’s not use arguing. You just need to do your job and then you can go home. Just be grateful you aren’t sprucing up your resume.

“Right. Where would--”

“There’s a place down the block. You have an eye for detail.” He interject.

“Oh, okay, sir. I’ll go get you a suit--”

“You’ll come with me,” he stands straight, dropping his arms.

“Yes, sir,” you shove your keys back in your purse.

He stares at you for a moment before he moves. He pivots on one sole and you follow after him. He keeps a lazy pace so you catch up. You walk in silence.

You glimpse the tailor’s shop. The windows display a group of mannequins dressed in varying states of work casual to formal. A particularly svelte female form wears a satiny silver gown with a slit to the thigh.

He steps ahead of you and opens the door. He waits for you to go ahead of him. As he follows, you feel a brush against you and quickly move out of his way. A man with a groomed mustache greets you from behind the counter.

“Sir, Madame,” he sweeps around in a three-piece suit, the vest cute in elaborate floral, “how can I help you today?”

“A suit. Work dinner. Black tie.” Nick states.

“Of course, short notice?” The man asks.

“Tonight.”

“Ah, we can meet that deadline, for a fee.”

“I’m not worried about cost,” Nick turns and browses the mannequin nearest him. “And my date will need something to wear.”

You stand as you are, glancing around in disinterest. As you turn back, you find the tailor staring at you. Nick continues to peruse the selection.

“Who’s your date, sir?” You ask, thinking it might be the woman from the other morning.

His brows arch as he looks at you, “she’ll need her measurements.” He flicks his fingers in a lazy point. You blink and shake your head. You?

“Of course, madame, would you prefer the privacy of a fitting room?”

“Oh, I don’t think I’ll need all that,” you insist. “I have dresses at home.” Buried somewhere in your closet.

“You do,” Nick insists as he feels a brocade jacket between his thumb and index.

“Um,” you peer around. You can’t afford any of this. “I could give you my size,” you offer the man.

“Go with him.” Nick commands, “stop trying to control everything.”

“Sir?” You look at him in desperate confusion, “I could call that woman--”

“I don’t need some ditzy barbie, I need someone with maturity,” he sniffs.

Ah. That’s it. No, that’s not it. It doesn’t make sense. Mature? Sure, but a bit over the hill.

“Go,” he snips.

You don’t chance another act of resistance. It’s not in your contract but you’re not worried about the terms and conditions in that moment. You’re worried about a paycheck and keeping your daughter in college. You can’t let her down. Or your husband.

You follow the man around the counter as he takes you the women’s section. He walks you along a rack and stops to consider you. He smiles and curls the tip of his mustache.

“You have beautiful colouring,” he praises. That’s sweet. You’re sure he can’t think of anything else to compliment. You’re not built like one of his dress forms. “A plum would look marvelous.”

He turns and reaches to pull a swath of fabric forward, the hangers clacking together. He shows you the chiffon eagerly. You examine it with dread. It will show all your lumps and bumps.

“Do you have anything... thicker? Stiffer?” You wonder. “I do like that colour.”

Are you really going along with this? You glance over your shoulder as the tailor searches the rack. Nick’s eyes meet yours and he tilts his head. You stare back for just a moment before he turns to look at his reflection and tug on the lapels of the shiny blue jacket.

You know what he’s doing. He’s making a point. You overstepped in some way and he’s putting you in your place. He’s showing you that he can make your job harder. He can make you work. Any way he wishes. And he knows, you need the job.

You understand all the questions now. He was getting leverage. He was doing reconnaissance.

This will be a lesson. A reminder for you. After tonight, you will know you are just the maid. You will know where you belong. A worn out old woman sweeping in the shadows.

“Madame, it is velvet,” the tailor draws your attention back to him as he shows you the gown. You can’t see much of the detail but the fabric will bolster you better.

“I’ll try it,” you agree.

“Bonne,” he remarks in French. He is an eccentric character.

He leads you around to the fitting rooms. He hangs the dress for you and steps out to let you shut yourself in. You can’t remember the last time you went dress shopping. There’s not need for it.

You figure out how to step into the dress. It’s tea length, just above your ankles. You don’t mind the length but oh, the top. You’re about to spill right out. The deep vee shows quite a bit of cleavage, the small strap holding it together rather precarious as your tits swell out. And the back is almost entirely exposed.

“Madame, are you well?” The tailor calls through.

“Uh, I think a different neckline--”

“Get out here,” Nick demands curtly.

You cringe and look at your reflection. Jesus. This is the lesson here. The humiliation. You are beneath him.

You face the door and steel yourself. You push back the latch and ease open the door. You step out, keeping your chin set and your gaze distant.

“Oh, madame, that is wonderful on your figure,” the tailor steps forward, “and it fits you...” he gives a smooch to his fingers. “Look at the hips, sir.”

Your cheeks burn and you dare to look at Nick. You’re mortified to find him staring back, exactly where the tailor emphasizes your curves. His brows draw up thoughtfully and he tilts his head. You want to cover the vee down your chest as his gaze creeps up.

“Hm,” Nick hums. “put it on the bill.”

#nick fowler #dark nick fowler #dark!nick fowler #nick fowler x reader #blurred lines #the 355 #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series

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in1-nutshell · 5 months ago

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Hello! Can I make a request?

Like let's say a teacher called in sick and the students were allowed to leave early, but there is a problem…

Arcee, Optimus, bumblebee, and Bulkhead are away on a mission, everything was going fine until they got attacked by Decepticons.

Ratchet is at the base, but he can't leave because what if the others needed him to open a spacebridge and he wasn't there?

The only one available is Maxima, she had left the base early to go and strech her tires.

What if Team Prime had no choice but to let Maxima pick up the kids?

Just imagine faces of everyone upon seeing a freaking monster truck at school and not only that, but also seeing Miko, Jack, and Raf get into said truck!

HA! Love this concept!

Hope you enjoy!

Maxima picks up the kids from school

SFW, Platonic, Slight Familial, Cybertronian reader

TFP

There were times that Maxima hated having the alt mode she had.

One of the main things was that she could never go to town without raising too many questions.

This also limited her area in being a guardian or even a sub guardian!

She was given guardian duties only at the base.

Even Ratchet had sub guardian duties!

…But then again, he was an ambulance something less discrete than a monster truck.

So, forgive her for making a full stop when Ratchet told her that she needed to pick up the kids.

Maxima: “Ratchet, you do realize that my alt mode isn’t exactly… normal, right? Is there literally no one else?” Ratchet: “I know Maxima, but right now the rest of the team is out on a mission, and I cannot leave my post.” Maxima: “What if we traded places?” Ratchet: “Maxima this is not up for debate, besides your closer.” Maxima: “Then how am I—wait a minute, I got an idea! Just gotta make a quick stop…”

The kids had no idea what to expect today.

It was getting late and there was no side of their guardians anywhere.

Not even a single phone call!

A huge shadow suddenly engulfed the trio.

The trio were shocked to see Maxima’s alt mode in the drive.

The doors opened revealing Agent Fowler and Maxima’s holoform in the front. Fowler: “C’mon kids, it late.” The kids excitedly started climbing in when a shrill voice spoke. It was Sharon, one of the most annoying PTA parents to ever grace the schools’ halls. Infamously known for her calling… Sharon: “EXCUSE ME!” Sharon glared at the kids inside the truck. Sharon: “And wait do you kids think you’re doing?! Get down from there!” Maxima pokes her head out the window. Maxima: “Is there a problem ma’am?” Sharon glares at her: “Yes! This vehicle is not suitable for picking up children! I should report you for it!” Maxima: “I’m just picking the kids up ma’am. No harm done.” Sharon’s face turned red. Sharon: “My husband is a police officer! I can have you ARRESTED MISSY!” Agent Fowler’s head pokes out the window. Fowler: “Is there a problem ma’am.” Sharon: “There’s going to be a problem if you don’t pick these children in a suitable car!” Fowler: “Miss, this was the only vehicle avail—” Sharon: “I WILL HAVE YOU ARREST YOU BIG, FAT— ARGH!!!” Sharon pours her hot coffee on Maxima’s tires and spits on them. Maxima’s holoform winces a bit. That was going to be a pain to clean… Fowler shows her his badge: “Special Agent William Fowler to you.” Sharon quickly shuts up and quickly runs back to her car.

Maxima quickly got out of that town using every suitable backway she knew before speeding down the dusty road.

She had disabled her holoform once they all got to the base.

Thankfully the team had arrived a few minutes earlier

Maxima had opened the doors for the humans to get out.

Maxima is about to transform but Miko waves her arms. Miko: “Wait! Wait!” Maxima: “Huh? Miko?” Miko: “Just wait here! Boys cm’on!” The trio went off to one of the supply closets. Bulkhead: “What’s with that?” Maxima and Fowler: “Sharon.” Bulkhead and Arcee cringe at the name while Bumblebee whirled a bit angrily. Maxima: “Yeah… she spat and pour coffee on my rims.” Miko, Jack and Raf walk out with buckets of water, soap and drying rags. Maxima: “Umm, what’s all this for?” Raf: “Helping you clean the coffee, spit and dirty from your rims.” Maxima tries to ignore the swelling in her spark. Maxima: “Seriously its not—” Miko: “Shush! Play with the rubber duck while we clean.” Maxima chuckles a bit as Miko places the duck in her dashboard as the others got ready to clean her rims. Maybe today wasn’t such a bad day after all.

Visual representation of what Maxima wanted to do to Sharon when she saw muddy puddle near her the next day...

#transformers x reader #maccadam #bot buddy #tfp #tfp x reader #tfp x platonic reader #maxima

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holylulusworld · 5 months ago

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Double the love

Summary: Two for the price of one.

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader, Mafia!Nick Fowler x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, betrayal, lies, secrets, arguments, kinda kidnapping, a little violence/mentions of violence

Catch up here: Fool me twice & Double the trouble

Back at your apartment, you’re fuming. It could’ve been such a nice day if not for Nick and Bucky ruining it from the start. You didn’t even get the chance to have breakfast in silence. No. They had to grab you and storm out of the diner.

“So, you told your brother to watch over me only for your enemies to find out you both want me?” You cross your arms over your chest and glare at both men. They invaded not only your life but your small apartment too. “Good job, Mr. Barnes. You protected me very well. Not only from getting fucked by a stranger but your enemies too.”

Nick huffs. He expected as much. “Colibri, let us explain.”

“Yeah, explain to me that you led your enemies, stone-cold killers on top of all, straight to my place.” You pout and angrily stomp your foot when Nick dares to grab the ugly bear he won for you at the fair. “Hey, take your hands off, Mr. Bear!”

“You kept it.” Nick grins while his brother is pacing the room. Bucky is about to just grab you and run. He doesn’t have time to explain that their enemies could strike at any moment.

“It accidentally ended up in my suitcase,” you lie, and look away. Nick doesn’t need to know that you can’t sleep without the ugly bear. “Now give it back!”

“Why?” He holds it above his head and smirks. “If you don’t want anything reminding you of our time together, we can just throw it away.”

“Give it back.” You jump up, trying the grab the bear. “I’m warning you!” You angrily kick his shin. He yelps and drops the bear. “I warned you.”

Bucky laughs loudly. “You let her kick you?” He snorts. “That’s what you get for messing with her bear.”

“That’s what you get for messing with me, Barnes,” you growl in Bucky’s direction. “Now get out of my apartment!”

“Doll, I told you on our way here that we cannot leave you. One of our enemies knows about you, Y/N. He will hurt you or worse get back at Nick and me. Please don’t put yourself in danger by sending us away.”

If your mom didn’t raise you better, you’d love to yell at Bucky, or at least give him the stinky eye. You pucker your lips instead and glare at Bucky.

“I didn’t put myself in danger!” You raise your voice. “You put me in danger. Why couldn’t you leave me alone? Why pretending to be someone else, and letting that pervert watch over me.”

Nick looks offended at your words. Usually, he’d put you over his lap and spank your ass. He hums and bites his lower lip because he can’t put his hands on you. Not now, and not in front of his brother.

“What do you expect me to do now,” you huff, annoyed because the brothers ruined your fresh start too. “I can’t just drop everything and run. I built a new life in this little town.”

“Baby doll, you don’t have to run,” Bucky softly says while stepping closer to you. He gets closer and closer until he can wrap his arms around your waistline. “Now, Nick. We’ve got no choice.”

“Remember, this was your idea,” Nick grumbles. He gets a syringe out, murmuring an apology as you throw insults at both men. You wiggle in Bucky’s grip and growl at Nick. “Sorry, Colibri. It’s for the best. Rumlow and his allies are on their way here. We only try to protect you.”

“I’ll kill you all,” you grunt and slap the bear in Bucky’s face. “I dare you to poke me with that thing.” You’re furious and try to get away from the syringe. “I hate needles…I hate them.”

“If you agree to come with us, we don’t need the needle,” Bucky purrs your name. He nuzzles his face in your neck, sighing as you try to fend Nick off with the bear. “I know you’re angry at us, but please let us protect you.”

You hold still for a second, eyes darting from Nick to the syringe and Bucky.

“Get away from me with that needle.” Lips pursed you prepare yourself to go for a sprint the moment Bucky releases you. “I’ll let you explain things if you put the needle away.”

Nick looks at his brother. He’d hate to use the syringe. It’s worse enough that you hate him now and won’t even look at him for longer than a moment. “Buck?”

“Okay, doll. I’ll let you go, and we will sit on the sofa and talk. I’m sorry we tried to do it the easy way.” Bucky slowly releases you. He steps away and nods at his brother. “Let’s talk then.”

You flash Nick a smile before you bolt toward the door. Fingertips touching the door handle, you giggle. You tricked them well and will just start anew somewhere else.

“Bad move, Colibri.” This time, Nick wraps his arm around your waistline. “I thought we were making progress. Do you want me to spank your ass for being a bad girl?”

You whimper. “No…”

“Would you look at our great escapist, Nick,” Bucky purrs your name, and steps closer to cup your cheek. “Doll, I’m disappointed.” You curse his name and threaten to cut off his cock. “Now let’s not use these words.” Bucky softly kisses your cheek. “We only want to talk.”

They had to use the syringe on you because you tried to escape more than once. Now you sit in the living room of Bucky’s place, calling them names. With your arms crossed over your chest, you watch them warily.

“Assholes! You used the syringe,” you snap at them. “How could you?”

“You tried to stab me with a cactus,” Nick mutters. “That hurt, Colibri. You didn’t have to poke my ass with it.”

“I hope there are holes in your ass now,” you grin victoriously at Bucky because he didn’t get away easily either. He’s got a black eye, and his hair is missing a few strands.

“Doll, stop this now,” Bucky raises his voice. He pokes your nose with his index finger, smirking. “We promised to tell you everything, and we will.”

“I hope you’ll get bald.” It’s childish, but you feel like you won because you got the two mobsters good.

Bucky cups your face, thumb running over your lower lip. “You’re dangerous, and not nice. Where is the sweet girl I fell in love with?”

“Maybe she doesn’t like getting tricked, or called girl,” you say, glaring at Bucky. “I only wanted to live my life without getting fucked over by you and your brother. Now you stole that from me too. Just like my dream of the future with you got destroyed. All I got is double the trouble.”

“Baby doll,” Bucky whispers your name and leans closer. “You got double the love too.”

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes #nick fowler #Mafia!Bucky Barnes #Mafia!Nick Fowler #mafia au #nick fowler x reader #bucky barnes x reader #polyamory #x reader #female reader

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nthspecialll · 3 days ago

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The canon homosexuals

Whether or not you want to believe that Bill Williamson is a homosexual, there are other characters within the game whos homosexuality is not just hinted at but in fact confirmed within the game itself.

The first one, which will likely surprise no one, is Alden, aka the fella down at Rhodes train station who leaves kisses on the notes he gives Arthur, is part of a society that hints at being gay, and talks about his dislike for his wife.

While many without getting it confirmed will believe him to be gay, there is an interaction with the Rhodes saloon bartender that will in fact confirm his queerness.

The two next ones might surprise some as these two characters are not even in any missions, that being Nicholas Timmins and Cecil Fowler, also more known as the Mayor of Strawberry and the clerky at the welcome center.

When nearing Strawberry there is the chance of meeting a lost tourist from New York who is also the first to let us know of strange things happening within the town of Strawberry, however this strangeness is nothing more than a homosexual couple.

If you manage to hogtie or kill Nicholas Timmins after one of his encounters, you will be able to loot a letter from him. I have not been able to get my hands on this letter due to the fact I have had all my encounters with him, so I will just leave a link to the letter

This letter is from the Mayor's sister, explaining that he ran away from Princeton with another professor to live a quiet and unbothered life after an altercation with his parents. And while this letter just confirms that there is a lover, it is in fact Cecil himself who confirms that he is the lover. If you stick around the lobby of the welcome center he will not only offer you logging, he will also praise Nicholas to high heavens and in the end admit that it was him to dragged him out into the middle of nowhere.

#rdr2 #rdr2 community #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #rdr2 arthur #red dead redemption community #red dead redemption two #john marston #red dead fandom #rdr john #nthspecialll

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thezombieprostitute · 4 days ago

Note

Just spreading the love over here

That's definitely the look of someone who's angry. But who is he mad at and why?

Warnings: Implied violence, Kidnapping, Talk of cheating. Please let me know if I missed any!

Even before he's fully awake, Andy knows he's in trouble. His head is throbbing and the last thing he remembers is leaving your apartment and putting his wedding ring back on before you woke up. He was glad to have found a way out of spending more time with you. But then there was a thump on the back of his head.

His eyes aren't open but he feels the restraints around his arms and ankles, fastening him to a chair. He isn't gagged, though, so they clearly expect a conversation. This isn't a ransom situation, it's an interrogation. Well he's not an assistant DA for nothing. He can talk himself out of this easily enough.

"We know you're awake, Barber. Open your eyes and let's get this conversation started."

Andy complies and sees two of Fowler's top lieutenants glaring at him. Curtis "The Axe" Everett and James "Winter Soldier" Barnes. Two of the most dangerous men in the city.

"What is this about?" he sneers. "You know your boss doesn't allow you to touch government officials without good cause. And I know you don't have that."

"Does Laurie know about your girlfriend?" Barnes' tone is as icy as his nickname.

"And before you try to say you don't have one," Everett interjects. "Remember who you're talking to."

Andy bites back a rude comment. Fowler's gang wasn't the biggest but it was the strongest and the richest because they invested in information. Where other mobs would resort to violence as a first choice, Fowler saw the wisdom in blackmail and bribery instead.

"So what if I have a sidepiece?" he argues. "What's that got to do with your boss? You know his rules. I'm off limits!"

"We have Nick's blessing," Barnes tells him. "Because if you can't trust a man to keep his promises to his wife, how can you trust him to keep his promises to you?"

"Business is different," Andy tries to argue but his voice is dry.

"Not when it comes to family," Everett counters.

"And definitely not when it comes to the court of public opinion," Barnes adds. "What would the public think if their DA---"

"Assistant DA," Curtis interjects, eyes never leaving Andy. They all know it's a sore spot for Andy that he's not the District Attorney.

"Right, what would the public think if their assistant DA was cheating on his wife? How could such a man properly represent them in court? Your political career would go up in smoke."

Andy is fuming but he can't think of a way out of this. Fowler's backing was his only chance but now that he knows that's gone, he's grasping at straws.

"What's the cost?" he finally grumbles.

"You and your wife are moving to a lovely little town on the opposite side of the country," Barnes starts. "That program she works for is opening a new branch there and you, being a good, loving husband, are going to support her and move with her to the new location."

"I'll be starting over!"

"But with a good record," Barnes counters. "That's the final gift from Fowler for your years of help."

"If you refuse, or if you ever step foot in this city again, though," Everett growls, "and you'll find yourself physically, financially, and politically ruined."

"I understand," Andy scowls. "Now let me go so I can get the good news from my wife about our move."

"Glad to see that jackass gone," Curtis says.

"Can you believe he didn't even ask if he could say goodbye to our girl?" Bucky adds.

"I know. She deserves so much better than him."

"And she'll get it."

"She's gonna be hurting for awhile, but we'll help her through it."

"And treat her like the angel she is."

Tagging: @alicedopey; @darsynia; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly; @stellar-solar-flare; @thiquefunlover63

#zombie asks #bucky barnes x reader #curtis everett x reader #mafia au #mob au #mob!curtis everett #mob!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x you #curtis everett x female reader #curtis everett x f!reader #curtis everett x you

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maslosstuff · 1 month ago

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The recurring characters of Macchio Falls! There are more to come in the future

Information about each character is below

Bash Johnson (Junior)- The high school quarter back and stereotypical school bully. He keeps those lesser than him under his thumb; even bullying teachers to give him an A+. There’s nobody he hates more than the ninja, he vows vengeance from the ninja for stealing his spotlight

Morgan Kranski (Junior)- The Deputy Mayor’s vain and spoiled daughter. She can destroy a girl’s spirit with just her words alone. Morgan wants nothing but to dethrone Heidi as head cheerleader, often teaming up with Bash to achieve her goals. She doesn’t have a problem with Howard

Bucky Hensletter (Freshman)- A clarinet playing dork who often meets the misfortune of being Bash number 1 target. Bucky loves to create symphonies with his talent but he often backs out of publishing his work.

Julian Fowler (Sophomore)- Older cousin of Theresa (by a month) Julian always looks for the positive of a bad situation, he may be not that bright but he makes up for it by rocking out

Theresa Fowler (Junior)- An outgoing and trendy stylist, she loves to try new things whether it be on her body or an extreme sport. Whenever Randy is feeling down or needs a new haircut she’s your girl! She doesn’t attend Macchio high

Pradeep Channa (Sophomore)- Former student at Flackville High, Pradeep is gifted in the field of science and astronomy. He’s often paired with Howard on class projects (This always makes Randy jealous)

Chen kang- Snappy and straightforward. Chen always gets to the point, wasting no time for arguments as even if she’s wrong she’s right. As an photographer, Chen is determined to picture everyone at Macchio High, being obsessed with getting a picture of the Ninja. As every year the Ninja is listed in the “Not Pictured” section of the yearbook. Her parents own the best beauty shop in town (the only one) “You’ve Got Nails Salon

"Stevens" Stephen Richards (Junior)- An outgoing, talkative chill guy. Stevens is always looking for a good time to party and flirt with girls. He isn't without his generosity always helping the little guy, he's deeply ashamed of his academic achievements as he pretends to be stupid. His prestigious parents are unaware of his tomcat endeavors

Susan Thermopolis (Sophomore)- Sarcastic and stern. As student council president she takes her job seriously and those in her inner circle describe her as bossy. She is assertive and outspoken, often sharing her opinions freely. She used to play the flute as a freshman

Raquel Antfee (Freshman)- Sweet and bubbly, yet slightly airheaded. Raquel loves cute things and doesn’t take no for an answer. Whenever someone is in need (whether they like it or not) she on the case. Despite her kindness she has a competitive edge and feels lonely.

David López (Senior)- A man a few words but overall a chill guy despite his peers. He doesn’t take pleasure in bullying others and would help the unfortunate. He’s also a massive musical theatre fan, he shares this interest with Juggo.

“Juggo” Jeremiah Marceau (Freshman)- A silent exchange student from France whos passionate about silent films and the art of mimicry. He loves to tell jokes but no one can understand his silent humor.

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enchantedbarnes · 1 year ago

Text

Recommendations 💖

I've been wanting to do something with recommendations for ages now, but there's just too many to even know where to begin! Here's a chaos list of past and present faves 🥰

Completed fics

Undisclosed by @pellucid-constellations

Pairing: Lumberjack!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Desperate to outrun a secret that could cost you your life, you seek refuge in a small mountain town. Its deep forests and small cabins make it the perfect place to hide, but the travel website hadn’t mentioned anything about the quiet, burly lumberjack that wouldn’t leave your thoughts. No one had warned Bucky about you either.

Lumpy and Bunny masterlist by @sweetdreamsbuck

Pairing: beefy lumberjack!bucky x f!reader

Summary: Bucky's never been so scared of a feeling in his life. there are too many what if's– too many fears bubbling deep within the parts of him left broken and hollow, untouched for far too long. but he never envisioned finding you– and he's entirely too impatient; entirely too certain no one's ever been more infatuated with something than how he feels for you.

Sweet and Sour by @sashaisready

Pairing: Bucky Barnes Mob AU x Femme Reader

Summary: You're hard at work in Pepper's Bakery when notorious mob boss James 'Bucky' Barnes darkens your doorway one typical afternoon, and life is never the same again.

While you're over there you might as well check out ...

Under the Radar by @sashaisready

Pairing: Nick Fowler x reader

Summary: Reader is a brilliant but shy and awkward CIA employee whose work is often overlooked by her colleagues…she’s blended into the background for so long that she doesn’t think there’s any other way - even if she does have secret aspirations for another life. Unbeknownst to her - a certain blue eyed agent is very aware of her talents, even if nobody else is.

The Lookout by @mymoonagedaydream

Pairing: ParkRanger!Bucky x y/n

Summary: It was amazing, really, how quickly one person managed to turn your dream job into a living nightmare.

Operation get Mr Bucky and Momma together by @golden-barnes

Paring: Beefy and Teacher! Bucky x milf! reader Summary: Bucky doesn't play favorites but Amaya is definitely his favorite, especially because her mom is hot.. Cue a 6-year-old trying to get Bucky to be her dad.

Worst Idea Ever by @firefly-in-darkness

Pairing: Y/N & Bucky Barnes, Other Marvel Characters.

Summary: Wedding Season is brutal as it is but throw in two friends that decide to be each other’s plus ones and a mixed bag of feelings, what's the worst that could happen?

Classylo's masterlist

home for the holidays by @classylo

When your family begs you to come home for the holidays and to bring the new guy you’ve been seeing, you don’t have the heart to tell them your good-for-nothing-ex cheated on you… good thing your roommate is available and will do absolutely anything you ask.

should've been you by @classylo

He was supposed to meet you at the game. He was supposed to be the one you went on a date with. He was the one you were supposed to fall in love with. Yet, here you are three years into a relationship with another… it should’ve been him, not his best friend.

Moral of the Story by @justkending

Summary: From childhood friends, to highschool sweethearts, the two naive, young, and lovestruck teens decided the best way to keep a strong relationship during college would be to marry right out of highschool. No one batted an eye at the idea as everyone knew they were soulmates. However, college is a big step in a person’s life. You learn new things about yourself, you make new friends, find new hobbies… And maybe being newly weds and going to different colleges across the states wasn’t the best plan… After a falling out, a tragic and heartbreaking divorce, the two now despise the other for how the whole thing was handled. Neither not really knowing both sides of the story. 10 years later, and they both get a call from the lawyers office that settled their divorce. Somehow the papers never went through and the divorce was never completed. So now, the exes, or should we say husband and wife, have to meet back up after all these years to settle their failed marriage once and for all.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Everest by @justkending

Summary: She was done and retired. After Thanos and the battle of a lifetime, she called it quits and distanced herself from the Avenger lifestyle. But word finds her that someone from her past is in danger. What the journey entails was never one she wanted to face nor one she saw becoming her reality again. The rollercoaster that comes with fighting evil odds arrives on her doorstep, not leaving much room for a no… Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Coming in Hot by @nexusnyx

When your best friend Sarah recommends you a mechanic of her brother’s trust, all you can think about and pray to is that he doesn’t rip you off. Your car is your prized possession and amidst all the worry and concern of your medical studies, drowning in even more debt sounds as suffocating as it would be. Of course, you never thought of the possibility of the mechanic being the problem. A hot, polite, gentle, and silent-type of problem. Drowning in debt would be easier to navigate than the blue of Bucky Barnes’s eyes.

Pairing: Mechanic Bucky x Reader

Though I Have Never Read by @tuiccim

Pairing: Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Summary: You had run away from all of your problems and found solitude in a cabin in the middle of nowhere. When a storm blows in, it drags a man with a metal arm through your door. Offering shelter, you spend one night together before he disappears. Years later, you find yourselves together again but does he remember that night or you at all?

Blink Twice by @simmerandwrite

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: It was just an undetermined amount of time in a safehouse with a stranger: Bucky “I didn’t come here to make friends” Barnes himself. Would it really be all that different from your lonely life with your cat in the city? Bucky was basically a cat, anyway. He was quiet on his feet, only really made noise when it was dinner time, and you both seemed to just coexist without acknowledging each other. His mandate was to keep you safe. What could go wrong?

teach me how to love by @buckyismybicycle

Pairing: DAD!BUCKY X TEACHER!READER

Natasha leaves behind her precious daughter, Yelena, and with her dying breath asks Bucky to look after her.

Sweet by @noceurous

summary: it was something cliche but your fuck buddy fell for you nonetheless, even though you swore you would never do relationships again. But rules are meant to be broken.

call me when you want by @bonky-n-steeb

summary: when you call a sex hotline with a need to be dominated you don’t expect to meet (or hear) someone as wonderful as James. but your life becomes a complicated mess as you already love your coworker, Bucky Barnes. however, you are unaware that they are actually the same person.

Grow Old With Me by @sonderosa

Part 1 & Part 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

...you could wait fifty years if he asked it of you. You’d promised him that, and he’d smiled and kissed you, told you that in fifty years he wanted to be old with you, sitting on a porch in rocking chairs and watching the sunset. You wanted that, too; it was a beautiful dream.

Sweeter Than Honey by @foreverindreamlandd

Pairing: Mechanic!Bucky x Fem!Personal Assistant!Reader Summary: It's your first international trip working for bestselling author Tony Stark as his new personal assistant, and you're desperate to prove yourself worthy of such an incredible opportunity. But when things start to go wrong whilst staying in Dublin, and suddenly you're stuck in the middle of the Wicklow Mountains with a flat tire, you're convinced that you'll be fired before the day is over. Luckily, a handsome, blue-eyed mechanic with an accent that makes your insides melt comes just in time to save the day.

Their other series are also *chefs kiss* -> go read the rest of @foreverindreamlandd's series

Love at First Grade by @buckysimp101

Pairing: Single Dad!Bucky Barnes x Single Mom!Reader; Teacher!Bucky x CEO!Reader

Summary: When father and first grade teacher Bucky Barnes ends up with Avery L/N in his class, the daughter of the “ruthless” CEO of L/N Enterprises, he's in for a surprise that's sure to change his life.

Teacher's Favorite AU by @suitk0via

Pairing: Dad!Bucky x Teacher!Reader

Summary: You are first grade teacher and Bucky is a single dad who wants to be involved with everything his little girl - Elaine - does. He’s the dad all the parent’s and faculty drool over. You quickly become Elaine's favorite teacher and Bucky's just gotta meet you.

The Heart is a Deep Ocean by @dreamlessinparis

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: Titanic was known as the ship of dreams. For you, it was the dream of getting home, or so you thought. From the moment you locked eyes with James Buchanan Barnes, all those dreams changed and your life was never the same.

Something Domestic by @fandoms-writings

Pairing: ex-military amputee!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Needing an escape from the loud and busy city life, Bucky comes to stay with you on your little farm. He didn’t expect you, a hardworking and beautiful woman with struggles of your own, to take his breath away and make life a little less dreary.

Labyrinth by @frostironfudge

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader, (Modern AU)

Summary: labyrinth (noun), a complicated set of paths and passages, through which it is difficult to find your way. Bucky and You would do anything for Steve and Wanda, your respective best friends. In an attempt to avoid a tradition Steve and Wanda come up with a lie involving their best friends. A lie, that involves building a labyrinth. Bucky and You begin to build but will you two find your way out or be caught in it?

nostalgia for the new by @real-jane

pairing: bucky barnes x female!reader shield agent

summary: bucky meets you because of your exquisite taste in music, and he finds in you a solace he didn't realize was possible. you create for bucky something he's never found before: nostalgia for a time that hasn't happened yet, and hope for a future where he might be loved.

The Thrill of the Hunt by @rookthorne

Pairing: Scare Actor!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

The ancient game of cat and mouse, a fight for survival between a predator and their prey, wasn’t a new phenomenon – it had been practised for centuries and it was an art that very, very few perfected. For years you had chased the craving to find someone that had mastered the art of the hunt, and for Halloween, you had gone all out and visited a haven unlike any other. It was there that you found your match. Cloaked in nothing but black and shrouded in a sense of lethality, you would have to run from this shadow in an adrenaline fuel haze unlike any other. A chase for the ages, the very one you desired. And if he caught you, your world would end as you knew it.

Ongoing fics

Honey Girl by @violentdelightsandviolentends

Pairing: Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Summary: The Universe shows you your soulmate when it feels like you need them most. When you least expect it, you're given yours - Bucky Barnes. Your Dad's best friend. You can try to refuse it all you like; but the universe wants what it wants. There's no denying fate.

After all those years by @ziawbarnes

Pairing: AU Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Peggy and Steve's wedding in Mexico takes an unexpected turn when you and Bucky, who initially couldn't attend, end up joining the celebration. With no available rooms, Bucky becomes your roommate for ten days, leading to unexpected adventures and new connections.

Fresh Start by @nicoline1998enilocin (on hiatus but I love)

Pairing: Teacher!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: In this universe you can explore the story between Bucky Barnes as a middle school teacher, and Y/N with her son Luca. They just moved to the other side of the country, and have decided to completely start over their lives. On the first day at his new school, Luca quickly befriends his new teacher, and Y/N can't help but take a liking to him as well.

A Past Encounter by @majesty-madness

Summary: Being in a relationship with Bucky, Y/N prided herself on knowing him quite well but when she’s accidentally teleported back to the 1940's, Y/N discovers that there is a whole other Bucky that she has yet to meet. The sweet flirt that had everything going for him before his unfortunate capture by HYDRA.

Neighbors by @writerlyhabits

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Summary: You get to know your neighbor across the hall, James.

Unexpected by @repressedqueen

Paring: SexWorker!Bucky x reader

Summary: After a crazy night out celebrating your birthday, somehow you ended up outside a brothel debating on whether it was time for you to finally have sex or not.

My Little Love by @crazyunsexycool

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced Fem! Reader

Dr. Feelgood by @endless-summer-soldier

pairing: Surgeon!Bucky x SurgicalIntern!Reader

summary: Y/N has a one night stand with a handsome stranger the night before starting her new job as a surgical intern. Little does she know, the handsome stranger also happens to be her new boss

Untitled Single Dad!Bucky Fic by @angie-likes-to-art

Pairing: Teacher!Reader x Single Dad!Bucky

Summary: You made a promise to yourself to not sleep with any parents before starting teaching, little did you know the guy you slept with two days before is the dad of your cutest student.

Too much love to choose from, here's some creators with masterlists you need to check out! ❤️‍🔥

@jobean12-blog

@navybrat817

@coffeecatsandcandles

@metalbuckaroo

@wkemeup

@nickfowlerrr

I love and appreciate all of you 💕 thank you for all your hard work 🥰

Happy Reading!

(Dividers by saradika)

RECOMMENDATION LIST #2 CAN BE FOUND -> **HERE**

#fic recs #fic recommendations #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #my recs

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ersatz-ostrich · 6 months ago

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Obvious

Gavin Reed x gn!Detective!reader

Hank isn't looking forward to working with you and Detective Reed on the scene of a murder. However, when he arrives, he notices something rather obvious going on between you and Gavin.

[A/N]: Hey everyone! We interrupt your regular Jason Todd programming to bring you...Gavin Reed? If you've read my other Detroit oneshot, you'll probably notice that this is the same concept, except with Gavin Reed instead of RK900. I love them both and I think they deserve some attention. The reader is gender-neutral but Hank (playing the role of Sherlock here) does mention that Gavin is wearing men's deodorant and so is the reader, which Hank uses to imply that they've been ~together~.

warnings: implied sexual references, glaring absence of beta reading

read here on ao3

Parked on the side of a residential street, Hank Anderson stepped out of the passenger seat of his squad car, too drunk to drive but too sober to turn down a new homicide case. The second his shoe hit the pavement, another squad car barreled past. Its wheels kicked up a wall of muddy water from last night’s storm, leaving Hank drenched.

“Are you alright, Lieutenant?” Asked Connor as he exited from the driver’s side.

“Yeah,” Hank grumbled, shaking himself off and following Connor to the yellow holographic tape surrounding the crime scene. “Guess that’s one way to get sobered up.”

“Ah, there they are. Lieutenant Anderson and his plastic prick of a partner.” Drawled Gavin Reed from behind the yellow tape.

“I’m here to see Detective L/N,” Said Hank, unfazed by yet another showing of Gavin’s barbed tongue.

“Why?” Gavin replied petulantly.

“He was invited,” Connor supplied. “I think Captain Fowler wants us to help analyze the crime scene.

“Well, you know what I think, don’t you?” Gavin fired back. Hank shot Connor a glare. Not helping, Connor.

“No shit, Gavin, of course I do.” Hank pushed past the holographic tape, but paused just as he brushed past Gavin.

“What?”

“You didn’t make it home last night, did you?” Hank muttered, side-eyeing the belligerent detective.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Gavin spat. Sighing forcefully and muttering a string of curses under his breath, he stormed away. “Hank and the fuckin android’re here, bringing ‘em in,” he announced into his radio. Hank and Connor crossed the front yard to the porch, where you were just exiting the house where the victim lay in congealed blood.

“Hello, Lieutenant, Connor.” You greeted the pair in your most cordial voice. “As always, this is a crime scene.” You leaned subtly closer to Hank, whispering in a threatening tone, “Try not to contaminate it.”

“L/N, good to see you again,” Hank chuckled. “Don’t worry, Connor’ll have my hide if I so much as breathe on a sensitive piece of evidence.” His eyes twinkled as he looked you over. “Your landlady outta town?”

“Uh…why are you asking?” You frowned, puzzled.

“Hey hey hey, what’s the hold up over here? We’re on an active crime scene and we’re running on borrowed time!” Gavin complained loudly as he approached the detectives.

“And you, Reed,” Hank’s zeroed in on the feisty detective. “Didn’t make it home last night? At least get someone to feed your cats for you.”

“The fuck are you talking about?”

“And your deodorant,” Hank pressed on.

“What about it?” Gavin was growing increasingly combative.

“It’s men’s deodorant,” Hank continued.

“Obviously—”

“Detective L/N’s also wearing it,” Clearly amused, Hank raised his brows at the two of you. “Coincidence?” You opened your mouth to say something, but the lieutenant cut you off. “And don’t think nobody noticed that thing on your neck.” Gavin was incensed.

“You son of a bitch—”

“Listen, Hank,” You caught Gavin’s forearm before he could lunge at the man. “Now’s not the time for this discussion. Can we please save this for later?”

“Oh, come on. I don’t care what you two are doing off the clock, but if Fowler finds out, I’m not covering your asses.” You sighed in defeat.

“You know what, I’ll take it. Thanks, Hank.”

“Anytime. Come on, Connor, let’s go check out this mess.” Connor, who had been silently observing the exchange and concealing his amusement with the skill of Cyberlife’s most advanced investigator prototype, followed Hank into the house without further question.

“Yes, Lieutenant.”

~~~~~~~~PLEASE HELP ME I NEED A BETTER DIVIDER~~~~~~~~~~

[A/N]: So what do we think, folks? Does Gavin wear something generic like Old Spice? Or is he the type of guy who wears cologne? Now that I've written that down, that question sounds hella creepy ("hmm what does this fictional male character smell like?"). But I really do wanna know if he makes enough money as a police detective to wear Dior Sauvage on the regular or something like that bc I feel like if he could he totally would.

Hope you guys enjoyed! Until next time x

let me know if you want to be added to the general taglist!

#gavin reed #gavin reed x reader #dbh #detroit become human

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nixwriteschaos · 1 year ago

Text

Unexpected Interest

Mizu x Male!Prostitute!Reader Summary: Mizu came to Madame Kaji for one thing, to know where to find Abijah Fowler and in order to do so, Madame Kaji requires Mizu to do a mission for her; to kill a girl who is living in suffering with a powerful man. As Mizu waits for the time for her to do her mission, someone knocks on the door. Mizu does not want company, but perhaps she will like this person’s company?

★☽A/N: Blue Eyed Samurai is such a good series! I’m just a bit shocked by the amount of adultery the series had- It kept on flashing me :crying:

Contents: FLUFF - SLIGHT ANGST

⭒☆━━━☆⭒

Mizu came to Madame Kaji for one thing, to know where to find Abijah Fowler after her interaction with the man who hides the white man. And in order to get the information she desires, Madame Kaji requires Mizu to do a mission for her; to kill a girl, Kinuyo, who is living in suffering with a powerful man that controls everyone in town, he was named “Boss Hamata.”

As Mizu waits for the time for her to do her mission, someone knocks on the door of her room. She felt pissed. When she waited for Madame Kaji a few hours later, many prostitutes came to her and she declined all of them. She sighed in frustration and quickly gave a response in a stern and harsh tone, “I requested no company.”

The person on the other side spoke in a soft and gentle voice. “Madame thought we could offer you some sake, sir.” Now that was interesting. A male voice? Could it a male prostitute? Though, thinking back, she did see some male prostitutes, fat men. She kinda felt disgusted by the amount of male clients, and even the male prostitutes. Mizu sighed again. “You may come in,” she answered.

She heard the doors open and there was a male prostitute. But the male wasn’t what she expected. He was young, around her age, and was quite attractive. She couldn't stop staring at him.

He didn't seem to mind and continued to pour the sake into a cup. It was like a plate, but had the ability to hold liquid, such as sake.

Mizu felt intrigued by the prostitute. “What's your name?” She asked with a monotone tone. The male didn't respond, that was pissing her off a bit. "I asked a question," she said sternly. “Y/N, sir." he smiled softly, still not facing her.

She repeated the name in her name, as if she didn't want to forget the name. She felt the name was fitting for him

She continued to watch him, feeling somewhat intrigued. His eyes were covered by a thin white cloth, tied behind head. She wondered why he wore it. She thought it could be a sensory issue or he could be blind and prefers if his clients had no knowledge of it. But she quickly removed the second theory when she saw him looking at her through the cloth, turning his body to face towards her and give her the sake.

He bowed his head and held the cup up, the sake moving slightly. Mizu felt suspicious, truly. Her curiosity and suspicion lingered. She hesitantly took the cup from his hands and he lifted his head up.

She took note of the way he looked at her. Despite the disadvantage of no eyesight, he seemed to be looking at her with curiosity. “Your eyes..” She felt surprised to hear this. So he could see through them? She thought curiously. “Whatever clever insult you thought of will not be as clever as you thought it would be,” she said with a slight grim face. She was used to people calling her names, like “mixed breed” for an example. She thought he would be no different to the rest of them.

That's why she was shocked when he said “they're beautiful, a color I've never seen outside of the sky and sea” with a smile on his face. She was also surprised he could see her eye color through the white cloth, she concluded that it must be thin, able to hide his eyes but still gave him the ability to see. “That's.. New,” she muttered out, drinking the sake. It wasn't anything fancy and overly good sake, but it's good considering the place must have good funds from their clients.

“Is it? Though do tell me why your eyes are the color they are?” He asked with his head tilted to the side. Mizu stayed silent, a solemn face displayed on her face. She wasn't proud of being mixed. After all, she was always called names and such for her mixed race, her eye color is a clear indication that she was mixed. She was somewhat shocked that he didn’t realize that on his own. She hated that she was different, mixed, she blamed her white father, one of the white men who came to Japan and had her with her mother.

"It's none of your business," Mizu replied coldly, her eyes narrowing slightly. "I would like to know. If you wish, I will leave once you tell me why your eyes are the color they are," Y/N compromise.

Mizu sighed heavily, taking a deep breath before finally relenting. "My father... he was one of those white devils who came to Japan." Her voice trembled slightly as she spoke, her hands clenched into fists beneath the table. "He raped my mother and left me here, cursed with these eyes. I've spent my entire life trying to erase his name from existence."

Her gaze shifted away from him, unable to meet his eyes directly. "Now, please leave me alone."

But the male prostitute continued to sit there, staring at her despite his eyes being covered. “I said to leave me alone.” her tone was harsh. Nothing, he continued to sit there. She turned to look at him. She saw the same blank face he had the entire interaction they had. “Are you deaf too?” Her voice caused him to flinch by the sudden harshness in her tone. “No..” He responded softly.

“Then leave.” Reluctant, he nodded and turned his back to exit the room. Something in her didn’t want him to leave, something about him intrigued her, despite that she found him annoying, his company was refreshing. She always traveled alone until recently. Perhaps she’ll allow him to stay a bit more.

Just before he could take a step outside the room, her voice echoed from her side of the room. He turned to see her, slightly blushed, with a slight flustered face, looking at him. “You can stay.” She turned her head away to not meet his concealed eyes. Her reaction was something he was surprised at. Her demeanor before was utterly different than her behavior now. Perhaps she did enjoy his company and felt alone without him? However, he did catch glances at his companion earlier when he was entertaining another client.

The male prostitute smiled, feeling fairly relieved that she enjoyed his company. Something about her. Considering that Y/N didn’t know Mizu’s true gender, he felt she was a respectable man, unlike the men that go in and out of the brothel. She was different.

“Very well.” He smiled.

⭒☆━━━☆⭒

#x reader #reader #fluff #slight angst #blue eye samurai #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu x reader #mizu x male reader #blue eye samurai x reader #blue eye samurai x male reader #male reader

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melishade · 29 days ago

Text

Attack on Prime The Future Anthology: Christmas

Main Story

Strongarm and Sideswipe II

Thanksgiving

Snowball Fight (Rematch)

The Survey Corps and Warriors experience Christmas.

"Jack, Miko, Raf, we cannot keep doing this!" Fowler shouted at them.

"C'mon! It's festive!" Miko whined.

"The Halloween thing was doable! I could live with that! The Day of the Dead thing was too many hoops to go through! You brought people from another planet to a festival in a place they don't speak the language!"

"You know we still haven't figured out why we're speaking the same language as them," Rafael commented.

"And then the Thanksgiving situation-!"

"Fowler, we've been using our allowance to make those things happen," Jack reminded, "And besides, they need this. Look at how much they've gone through. They can't even breathe the air in some places! A twelve year old knows how to use a gun and has killed people in war! They didn't try ice cream until they were twelve!"

"Jack, I know that their lives have been extremely difficult, but we also have to consider everyone else and where our resources go for them," Fowler reminded.

Rafael thought it over. "What if...we used someone else's resources?"

Fowler noticed the way that all three looked at each other and grinned. "No. No! You three do not mean-!"

===

Willy waved goodbye to Ray and Ogwena before heading back into his office. Repairs have been going well so far with the aid of the Autobots and the U.S. government. The world obviously won't be restored to what it once was. But the stability for the lives of many is what would matter.

As he opened the door to his office, he was surprised to see Rafael sitting atop of his desk. His arms were crossed, and he couldn't see his eyes through his glasses.

"Buenos tardes, cuchara de plata," Rafael greeted rather ominously as he raised his head.

Willy jolted when he heard the door slam shut, and turned to see Jack and Miko standing next to it with looks of warnings on their faces.

"We need a favor done," Jack declared.

===

Two weeks later

"What...is all this?" Historia and the Survey Corps were at a loss for words as they stared at the sight before them. They were asked to groundbridge from the snowy island that was Paradis to another snowy island in the southern region of the world where the Rumbling didn't reach. This island was one of the many locations left that survivors of the Rumbling were starting to flock to as their temporary home. But it was somehow so...festive?

There were stalls set up everywhere, filled with food and games and red and green decorations. Lights were strung up through the trees and the vending posts. Music was being played through speakers set up throughout the area. There was an outdoor movie theater playing a cartoon that was both shocking and delighting the onlookers. And all the way at the end of the festival was a Christmas tree that was being decorated with colorful orbs, glitter, and lights by the Autobots.

"Welcome Paradis, to Christmas Town!" The Survey Corps were stunned to see Willy Tybur approaching them in a red and white outfit, maybe a suit, with a long and floppy red hat.

"What the-!"

"We're sorry!" Jack, Miko, and Rafael jumped in, wearing their own red and green outfits, "This is our fault! We take responsibility!"

"Jack, what the hell happened?" Hanji couldn't help but laugh.

"Look, we wanted to set up a Christmas celebration for you guys, but the U.S. government was telling us no, because of the last three holidays we've been blowing our money on."

"Which doesn't make sense cause it's our money," Miko grumbled.

"So we decided to try and...let's say garner a favor from Tybur." Rafael pointed to the man, "But when he didn't know what Christmas was, we keep forgetting that this place doesn't have Christianity, we had to explain it to him, and then he just lit up like a kid on Christmas and just took over."

"I did ask for your assistance!" Willy insisted.

"You started rambling for thirty minutes to us about ideas!" Rafael yelled.

"So you guys help set up all this?" Historia gestured to her surroundings.

"Well, it is a way to lift the people's spirits with a little festivity!" Willy grinned, "Not to mention, I've utilized my connections to countries that are still standing, and they thought this event would be a great way to help bolster their economy, what with networking and trying to see if there are any refugees that want to come to their homeland to help their population grow!"

"If this is a world event thing, then we should have been informed so that Paradis could help do something," Hanji reminded, "We've been helping repair the world."

"And that's a great way to show that Paradis isn't an island full of devils!" Willy stated, "You've been working hard! You deserve a chance to enjoy yourselves!"

"No, that's not a good reason," Historia declared, "Paradis needs to participate in an event like this if we are to be connected to the rest of the world. I'll need to go back to Paradis in order to ask a few people willing to join. They could sell some pies."

Jean thought it over before turning to Sasha. "You want to help me make some omelets?"

Sasha gasped with delight. "Yes! Let's do it!"

"Is there any way that we can get some cooking supplies and a stall?" Jean asked.

"Leave that to us!" Miko declared before she grabbed Rafael and ran off.

"They'll let you know when it's ready," Jack declared.

"So the rest of you can enjoy the festival," Willy said, "Queen Historia, if you could come with me, there are a few world leaders here that I think you should get more acquainted with."

"Fine," Historia grumbled, "But they better be on their best behavior, or Ymir's gonna kick them in the face."

"Let's not do that," Willy insisted as the two began to walk together

"Too late! It's been decided!" Ymir shouted as she followed Historia close behind.

"So...what do you guys want to see first?" Jack asked.

"I am going to see why the Autobots are decorating a tree." Hanji started making their way towards the tree.

"We gotta grab them," Erwin declared.

"Yep." Levi started moving his wheelchair to follow Hanji, with Erwin close behind.

"So where's Annie and Pieck, and the Warrior Cadets?" Armin couldn't help but ask.

"Oh, their actually at the outdoor movie theater," Jack answered, "They came earlier and started going to town on sweets. You guys wanna try hot chocolate or play a game?"

"Hot chocolate!" Sasha raised her hand.

Jack chuckled. "Alright, c'mon."

Optimus quietly watched from the sidelines of the festival, keeping his massive blanket wrapped around his body. He was surprised that no one had decided to approach him yet to say their thanks. Maybe the blanket was throwing them off. Or maybe they were abiding by his request to relax. He hoped it was the second option. Optimus glanced back to see Megatron arriving and transforming into his bipedal mode, landing right next to Optimus. Megatron narrowed his optics at the sight of the festival.

"This is what the humans do on Earth during the winter time?" Megatron couldn't help but ask Optimus.

"Christmas is quite a festive holiday and a good way to end the year," Optimus explained, "There are also a few other holidays around this time as well. Hannukah, Kwanzaa, Yuletide, Boxing Day, Advent-!"

"Prime, I do not need a full list," Megatron cut him off, "But this is much too...cheery for my tastes. I think I prefer the Halloween one better."

"I'm surprised you would even fancy a human holiday at all," Optimus remarked.

"They can be creative when they want to be," Megatron proclaimed, eyeing the booths on the floor. He spotted some games some of the humans were playing before turning to Optimus. "Do you want to play a game?"

Optimus snapped his head towards Megatron in disbelief. "What?"

"I didn't hear a no," Megatron declared.

=====

Sasha hummed with delight as she drank more of her hot chocolate. "This is so delicious!"

"It's really sweet," Jean added.

"Yeah, there are a lot of sugary sweets for the holidays," Jack commented with a hand on his hip before drinking his cocoa.

Mikasa smiled at the little marshmallows floating around in her drink before taking another sip. It really was delightful and warm.

"So what else do you guys do for Christmas?" Armin asked.

"We get each other gifts and open them on Christmas day, watch Christmas movies, decorate a tree," Jack listed.

"Oh! We should have gotten you guys gifts!" Sasha exclaimed.

"It's okay, we've all been pretty busy. Besides, I don't think we've ever really gotten a chance to ask you what you guys wanted," Jack retorted, "We wouldn't have known what to get you guys."

"Honestly, you've been doing so much for us already," Jean declared, "None of this would have been possible without you guys. Frankly that's enough for us."

"Although, we would like some gifts for next year," Sasha grinned, "I am interested in anything related to hunting."

"I’ll put that on the list." Jack pulled out his phone and started typing, "Jean? Mikasa? Armin?"

"Um...books about nature?" Armin hesitantly spoke up.

"How about..." Jean tapped his chin, "Some clothes that don't itch my leg stump."

"Better clothes. Mikasa?" Jack addressed her.

"Maybe..." Mikasa instinctively reached for her neck, but realized that the item that used to be around her neck all the time was missing. "A new scarf?"

Mikasa noticed the way everyone was staring with concern and quickly recoiled. "It's cold."

"Scarf it is." Jack typed it before putting his phone away. "So what else do you guys want to eat? I've actually been wanting to try more food from here to see what the differences are."

"What about that place?" Sasha pointed to a sign above a stall written in a different language. Armin blinked and squinted his eyes when he saw the sign's letter beginning to change...into that of his own language! It said: "Odangos from Hizuru!"

"Alright, let's go," Armin snapped out of his shock as he followed everyone else.

====

"So what are you doing?" Hanji asked with a grin on their face as the Autobots continued decorating the tree.

"Decorating a Christmas Tree," Bumblebee answered as he hung a red ornament with the Autobot symbol on it, "This is a pretty popular human tradition."

"Huh, you guys don't have anything like this on Cybertron?" Hanji asked in surprise as Levi and Erwin arrived at the tree.

"Nope!" Smokescreen answered with a pop as he stood on Bulkhead's shoulders to hang another ornament.

"We don't have something as festive as this on Cybertron," Ratchet explained, "Maybe gladiatorial matches or the anniversary we drove off the Quintessions, but nothing this festive."

"It's fun!" Wheeljack grinned as he was untangling the lights and hooking them up to his own generator.

"Can we help?!" Hanji asked, "This sounds like a lot of fun!"

"Hanji, I don't think there's much for us to do," Erwin insisted.

"Actually there are a few small ornaments the kids gave us," Bulkhead explained, "Maybe you could help us hang those."

"Yes!" Hanji cheered, "Let me get my gear!"

"Well I'll just sit here," Levi commented, "Not much I can do."

"You could be Santa," Arcee smirked, "A very grumpy Santa."

"I don't know what Santa is," Levi stated.

===

"Oh wow, they have these in Japan," Jack remarked, "Miko took us to a spot once in Tokyo when we were on a mission."

"So then they must be from Hizuru," Jean assumed.

Mikasa grew tense at that. Right, if this was a world event, then Kiyomi must be here. The last time that the two saw each other, she was kind enough to take her back to Paradis. But...how much have things changed? Was there a chance that Kiyomi harbored some resentment towards her? What if-?

"Mikasa?" Mikasa felt her stomach drop at the sound of that voice. She turned and looked behind her to see Kenshin staring at her in disbelief, wearing a winter coat and sporting a pair of glasses.

"K-kenshin." Mikasa wanted to back away. She didn't think she'd ever see him again. She wasn't even prepared to face him. But now-!

Mikasa grunted in surprise when Kenshin bolted towards her and hugged her so tightly. "H-huh!"

"Holy shit, you're okay!" Kenshin released her before placing his hands on her shoulders, "Auntie told me that she took you back to Paradis after everything and I haven't heard since because I was so wrapped up in politics!"

"Why...why are you so happy to see me?" Mikasa couldn't help but ask.

Kenshin raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Oh, Kenshin, hey," Jack greeted, holding four odangos in his hand, handing each one to the other members of the 104th. Sasha greedily scarfed it down while Jean took slow bites.

"This is a bit chewy," Jean remarked.

"What are you doing here?" Armin asked.

"Kiyomi and I were invited and we need to find ways to bolster our economy and standing in the world," Kenshin replied, "She's currently trying to swindle her way into a deal with a surviving neighboring country."

Kenshin pointed behind him, and through the crowd, they all saw Kiyomi speaking with someone who looked important, pouring some more alcohol in his drink.

"I respect the hustle," Jack proclaimed.

"Hm," Kenshin hummed in response, "So I heard that you were the one that helped set this up?"

"We were trying to blackmail Willy and it backfired," Jack confessed.

"Hah!" Kenshin cackled.

"Hey guys!" Miko and Rafael called out as they ran over to them, "We got the booth ready!"

"Looks like we're up," Jack declared.

"We?" Sasha asked in confusion.

"I used to work in customer service," Jack explained, "I know a thing or two about serving people. You two focus on the cooking, okay?"

"Alright!" Jean took another bite out of his snack before he, Jack, and Sasha left with Miko and Rafael, "See you guys later!"

"Bye!" Armin waved goodbye while Kenshin turned to Mikasa.

"Hey, can we...talk in private?" Kenshin asked her.

"Uh...," Mikasa trailed off, looking at Armin with concern.

"I don't think she wants to," Armin declared.

"Please," Kenshin requested, "I have a lot that I want to say."

Mikasa clenched her fists to ground herself. What should she do? She still felt an immense amount of guilt for leaving his parents for dead. What would she say?

"You have people in your life that need you. Not just Eren. I know that you care for them as well, and to leave them behind, would be an insult to them and to yourself.”

Did...did Kenshin really care about her? Did he really need her? Mikasa took a deep breath. "Okay. Let's talk."

"Mikasa, wait," Armin pleaded with her as he grabbed her hand.

"I'll be fine," Mikasa reassured, giving his hand a gentle squeeze before following Kenshin through the crowd, leaving Armin to his own devices. He took a deep breath and exhaled, seeing his breath through the cold air. Despite this crowd of people surrounding him, he never felt this alone. He felt so disconnected.

Maybe...maybe it was because he was here without Eren. Armin disavowed Eren, sure. But...he still lamented what could have been. He lamented the memories they had and could have made together. If only...if only...

Armin put his hands in his pockets and walked through the snow. Maybe watching a movie will take his mind off of things.

===

"You brought me here to do a shooting game," Optimus deadpanned at the sight of the booth before him.

"Hey, you didn't say no when I asked you to do this," Megatron shot back.

"I could not help but be curious as to where this would go," Optimus admitted.

"This is a game that I played with Mikasa during the spring festival in Hizuru," Megatron explained.

"Really?" Optimus blinked in surprise, "I never thought you would partake in such a thing."

"Mikasa wanted to show me one normal day," Megatron declared.

"But this game requires you to pay to play," Optimus reminded.

"Pay to win prizes. It's essentially gambling," Megatron retorted, "We can just play for bragging rights. Who's the better marksman?"

"Would they be willing to let us play?" Optimus asked.

"Optimus, just pull the Savior of Humanity card and we should be fine," Megatron ordered.

"That's an abuse of power," Optimus scolded.

"I think it's well warranted; I want to play," Megatron declared.

"By the Allspark, I've never seen you this animated over a game," Optimus whispered to himself.

"So...how have you been these past few months?" Kenshin asked as he and Mikasa continued to walk together.

"Managing," Mikasa answered, "I've been trying to occupy my time."

"I thought Kiyomi said that you wanted to just live in peace like you wanted," Kenshin recalled, "Why didn't you?"

Mikasa sighed. "Things got complicated. Someone tried to take Megatron and restart his faction from the war."

"And you jumped in to save him?" Kenshin concluded, earning a nod in response, "Wow, I didn't think you and Megatron were that close. I did hear about his war crimes and they're somehow worse than I ever imagined."

Mikasa didn't reply to that.

"And now Megatron and Optimus seem to be...playing a game together?!" Kenshin squawked.

"Huh?!" Mikasa exclaimed as she followed Kenshin gaze to see Optimus and Megatron's holoforms playing a shooting game similar to the one she and Megatron had played in Hizuru. Their marksmanship was drawing the attention of the crowd. Neither seemed to be playing for prizes though. They seemed to be playing for bragging rights.

"They've...they've always been so tense with each other over the years..." Mikasa gawked, "And now...they're playing a children's game together."

"I guess the end of the world does things to you," Kenshin commented.

Mikasa's expression grew somber. "Kenshin...why don't you hate me?"

Kenshin laughed in confusion. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Why don't you hate me?" Mikasa demanded as she turned to face him, "Kenshin...I left your parents to die. I made a choice to save you and not grab them and-!"

"Mikasa, why would I resent you for that?" Kenshin demanded, "You fulfilled my father's final request."

"But Hizuru's in ruins because of me." Tears started forming in Mikasa's eyes, "Because I didn't stop Eren. Because my feelings for him got in the way that was important. If only I did something...there wouldn't have been so much loss."

Kenshin raised his hand and hesitated, but gently placed it on Mikasa's shoulder. "Mikasa, I'm not going to fault you for trying your best to stop Eren without killing him. I mean...how can you kill someone you love?"

Droplets fell down Mikasa's cheeks before her face churned into a grimace. "I don't love him anymore. I'm trying to move on from him. What he's done is unforgivable."

"Yeah," Kenshin sighed as he released his hold on her, "I get it. But...Mikasa, I don't hate you at all."

Kenshin pulled something out of his pocket and showed it to Mikasa. The Ackerman was stunned to see it was a beautiful silver necklace with the Azumabito crest dangling from the chain.

"They said this holiday is about giving gifts, so this is my gift to you." Kenshin offered the medallion to her.

"Kenshin, I can't take this," Mikasa insisted.

"I remember the burns you got on your arms, and I'm assuming your original tattoo is gone," Kenshin began.

Mikasa gripped her wrist where her tattoo used to be.

"The Rumbling managed to stop before it crushed our home near the temple," Kenshin explained as he unhooked the chain, "My dad kept a bunch of cultural information there, important to Hizuru's survival. This was something that belonged to your ancestors that was kept in storage. So I figured I'd return it to the rightful owner."

Kenshin hooked the chain around Mikasa's neck before taking a step back. The Ackerman touched the medallion resting on her chest in disbelief.

"I don't...I don't know what to say," Mikasa admitted, "I didn't even get you anything."

"I'm alive," Kenshin smiled, "I'm alive because of you. That's more than enough. Thank you, Mikasa."

Mikasa couldn't help but smile back. "You're welcome, Kenshin."

===

Armin found himself in the outdoor theatre, watching one of the Christmas movies play. He was a little bit surprised at the violence of it all, what with someone's head getting torched by a flamethrower. But it seemed to make the people laugh. Armin was surprised when he saw both Strongarm and Sideswipe there too. Sideswipe was laughing with delight while Strongarm herself was just confused.

Armin then searched through the crowd for the Warriors and managed to spot the back of Annie's head and Pieck's decorated cane. He walked over to the five, seeing them sitting plastic chairs and looked over. Falco, Gabi, and Colt couldn't stop laughing at the violence on the screen. Pieck looked a little bored, but a chuckle or two did come out of her. What surprised him was that she actually started critiquing the mechanics of these traps and how the boy in the movie could make them better. Annie didn't seem to care either, more focused on the sugar cookies in her hand.

"You really are just filling your face with sweets," Armin teased.

Annie turned to him and glared, but it didn't look as intimidating with all the sprinkles on her face. "Shut up."

"How's the festival?" Armin asked as he sat in the show.

"Good." Annie wiped her mouth, "It almost reminds me of the festival in Liberio."

Annie noticed Armin shifting uncomfortably and smirked. "Of course, this is better by a mile."

Annie was relieved when Armin chuckled a little.

"So what are you watching?" Armin asked.

"A movie called 'Home Alone'," Annie answered, "A large family left one of their kids in the house by himself, and how he's trying to protect it from robbers."

"Pretty violent for a Christmas movie," Armin commented.

Annie shrugged. "Considering what we've gone through, I'd say the violence is pretty tame."

"Why not just call the authorities?" Armin asked.

"He thinks he'll be seen as a criminal or runaway if he does," Annie answered, "Not necessarily true, but kids have hyperactive imaginations."

Armin hummed in response.

"...Do you want to go walk around for a bit?" Annie offered.

Armin was stunned at the offer. "Don't you want to see the rest of the movie?"

"All these Christmas movies have a happy ending. The kid will be fine." Annie stood up, "See you later, Pieck."

"Have fun." Pieck lazily waved.

Armin stood up and the two began to walk away from the theatre together.

"This is nice," Annie declared, "Most fun I've had since...ever I guess."

"Yeah," Armin agreed, "But..."

"...you wish Eren was here?" Annie guessed.

Armin sighed. "I don't really know how to feel about him."

"I guess that's understandable," Annie shrugged, "He did commit genocide after all."

"No...not really about him doing that," Armin admitted.

Annie paused. "Wait, what do you mean?"

"...Do you remember when we were in the Paths?" Armin asked her.

"And we met that...Pieck said he was a deity," Annie recalled.

"Yeah, well...he let us talk to Eren...and he also gave Eren a choice in enacting the Rumbling," Armin confessed.

"A choice?" Annie nearly screamed, "And he chose!...God...Armin, I'm so sorry."

"Why are you apologizing?" Armin asked.

"You keep getting the short end of the stick here," Annie answered, "You're own best friend betrayed you...I betrayed you and you still-!"

"I just want to move forward and foster peace," Armin cut her off.

"...Armin....what do you even think of me?" Annie couldn't help but ask.

"Huh?" Armin spoke.

"I'm no saint, and I've done horrible things," Annie began, "Those horrible things ended up pushing Eren over the edge, to the point where he refused a deity's offer for peace. I'm still at fault for a lot of the things that happened, even if everything is resolved now. I mean...don't you hate me?"

Armin shook his head. "No...honestly, I'd like to think after everything that we've been through that we're friends now."

"What?" Annie was flabbergasted, "Friends?! Are you nuts?!"

"We've come to an understanding with each other. We've worked together, helped save the world together, and now...there's no Marley or anything like that. There's no need to really lie to each other anymore," Armin explained, "We've been allowed to start over and just be normal people. I don't think it's good to hold grudges."

Armin saw that Annie's face was red, but he couldn't tell if it was from the cold or if she herself was flustered.

"I don't know why you keep denying the fact that you're a good person," Annie sighed.

"I still think you're giving me too much credit," Armin said.

"YOU TWO SHOULD KISS!" Armin and Annie's faces turned red, snapping their heads to the sound of Miko's voice. They saw her in front of one of the stalls, hands cupped around her mouth.

"You can't just say stuff like that!" Armin exclaimed in embarassment.

"YOU'RE UNDER A MISTLETOE DUDE! THAT'S THE RULE!" Miko pointed above the two, and they looked up to see a green plant with red berries hanging above them.

“What is this?!” Armin asked in confusion.

“It’s from that stupid movie!” Annie snatched the plant and threw it to the ground before stepping on it. The former titan shifter stormed off, leaving Armin flustered. He regained his composure and stormed over to Miko.

“That was uncalled for!” Armin exclaimed.

“I don’t know. You two were having a Christmas moment,” Miko shrugged.

“What are you even doing?!” Armin demanded.

“Keeping watch.” Miko pointed behind here, and Armin finally took notice of the booth. He saw Jean and Sasha furiously cooking some omelettes together. Meanwhile, Jack was the one handling the customers, handing out the food in containers and taking their payment.

“Wow.” Armin was impressed.

===

“There are animals in here!” Hanji called out, seeing a nest of birds staring at them.

“Leave them alone for right now!” Ratchet ordered, “Go around them!”

“Okay! I’m hoping they don’t peck me!” Hanji said, scooting away from the birds.

“We’re almost done with the set up,” Wheeljack informed, “We’ll need to tell Tybur in order to light up the tree.”

“Hopefully you don’t blow anything up,” Erwin commented.

“C’mon, have some faith in me. Why would I blow this up?” Wheeljack feigned denial.

Ratchet scoffed. “Please, you’re a walking disaster. A manifestation of Murphy’s law.”

“Ow. Such hurtful words.” Wheeljack placed a servo over his chassis.

Arcee placed the star atop of the tree before jumping down. “I’m good.”

“Alright, Hanji!” Bumblebee called out.

“Just a second!” Hanji tied the string of the lights to the branch before lowering themselves down the tree. Levi couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief as Hanji landed on the ground quite carefully. Hanji unhooked their gear from the tree and looked up at it.

“Not very festive,” Hanji remarked.

“That’s what the lighting ceremony is for,” Bulkhead said.

“Then call the Tybur,” Bumblebee ordered.

===

“Attention everyone!” Everyone perked their heads at the Tybur’s voice coming through the speakers, “Make your way to the tree for the lighting ceremony!”

“Looks like we’re closing up shop for now,” Jack remarked as Jean and Sasha removed their aprons.

“God I wonder what speech he’s going to make,” Miko grumbled and she and Armin finished their omelettes.

“I’m surprised you managed to sell a lot in a short amount of time,” Rafael commented as the crowd migrated towards the tree.

“We’re efficient!” Sasha jumped over the table.

Optimus and Megatron saw the crowd moving and quickly deactivated their holoforms. They made their appearances in their bipedal modes as they watched the crowd appear in front of the tree.

“Hello everyone!” Willy spoke through the microphone, “I hope that you’re all enjoying your time at the festival!”

Willy smiled when he heard the cheers through the crowd. Armin and Mikasa ended up covering their ears while Kenshin rolled his eyes.

“Before we do anything else, I would like to express my gratitude to the Autobots, Jack, Miko, and Rafael for helping putting all of this together!” Willy gestured to the three humans and the Autobots, causing more people to cheer. Miko grinned with pride, Jack looked a little flustered while Rafael smirked.

“And as we continue through these trying times together, we should all be grateful to have this moment of community and compassion!” Willy continued, “I know that things are still difficult and there is still much to repair, but the fact that we are still willing to come together now is a sign that we have a future together! So thank you! All of you! For taking this chance together!”

Willy turned to Wheeljack. “Light it!”

Wheeljack grinned as he flipped the switch, causing all of the lights on the tree to shine. The crowd marveled at the light show in delight before clapping and cheering.

Megatron squinted his optics at the tree. “Still too bright.”

Optimus hummed in acknowledgement. Megatron glanced down to see Optimus still wearing that still ugly blanket. He wondered why Optimus still wore it at all. It couldn’t be because of the cold. Megatron looked into Optimus’ optics and noticed sorrow in them and sighed.

“Merry Christmas, Optimus,” Megatron spoke up.

Optimus stared at Megatron in shock before smiling. “Merry Christmas, Megatron.”

(Super corny and cheesy. But whatever, we need some Christmas cheer!)

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