#bee rock painting

[some-artist525]

Bug themed rocks I painted! More like pebbles because they're really tiny, but I thought they were cute

[paran0rmality]

Ok but the rock at the drive thru at the bank my mum goes to is so cute tho guys

[miiichaelangeloart]

NARUTO

[ca-d]

Hurricane/post tropical cyclone Lee 🌊

[bumblybeemika]

I painted a rock at a team building thing at work.

Thats it.

Look at my rock.

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

✨His Queen✨

Short drabble I wanted to write because I am unwell for this man…

Lucifer x f!sinner reader

Summary: Your first time with the King of Hell, and he might be even more nervous than you are~

(I don’t even have a set up for this, I’m diving in head first like I would for Lucifer. This is just porn without plot 🤷🏻‍♀️)

Tag list: @trashbin-nie

@yellowsubiesdance

@j-jinxee

@stevensdickrider

@airwolf92

@mrssabinecallas

@myhornybrainonlyknowsthis

@bee-sinner

@thesoccerenthusiast

Warnings: 18+, smut, humping, pet names, oral (m & f receiving), fingering, p in v, service top!Lucifer

All throughout, the only thing that could be heard in Lucifer’s home was the sound of your lips crashing into his relentlessly. Your nightgown draped over his legs while sitting in his lap for at least an hour now, on his throne, no less. You’re breathless, your lips are swollen, and you can’t get enough. You haven’t pulled apart in what seems like an eternity, Lucifer moaning into your mouth as your tongues intertwine. However, you’ve become increasingly more aware of the bugle that’s growing between your legs. Ever so slowly, you start to rock your hips back and forth. Lucifer instantly freezes from the sudden sensation, inhaling sharply.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized sheepishly, “I didn’t mean…”

Lucifer cut you off with another kiss before you could finish your sentence. “Please don’t stop, love,” he whispered.

Blood rushes to your cheeks from hearing those words. You felt Lucifer’s hands travel down the sides of your body, stopping at your hips. You start rocking your hips again, eliciting such sweet moans from him. He was so sensitive and you knew it, you knew you could make him putty in your hands and that excited you!

“F-Fuck, sweetheart…,” Lucifer moaned, “this is…this feels amazing.”

One of his hands slid down your thigh at an agonizingly slow pace and you continued your motions. His hand stopped when he felt the soft cloth of panties. He tried to hide his small smirk from you, but you caught him. You knew the fabric must have been wet, and it’s clear from his reaction that he noticed too.

“May I, my angel?”, Lucifer asked softly. You nodded your head wordlessly. You stood up almost too quickly as Lucifer reached for the hem of your panties. You felt them get dragged further and further down your legs until they finally touched your feet and hit the floor. You resumed your potion, straddling Lucifer once more.

He reached down to press his fingers at your folds for the first time. You felt your face heat up, it was something you’ve been wanting for so long. Lucifer exhaled heavily, his painted cheeks flushing a different shade of red. You could feel his hand trembling against you.

It’s been a while since he’s been intimate with anyone, Lilith had been gone for so long. Lucifer had been so alone during that time, never pursuing another lover. Until you, of course.

Noticing his hesitation, you brought your hands to his cheeks, cupping his face. His shining red eyes stared into yours as you leaned in for another kiss. “It’s alright, Luci, take your time,” you soothed him.

“Thank you, love,” he smiled. After a deep breath, Lucifer finally began to tease your entrance, running his fingers up and down your slit. You grabbed onto his shoulders as if you were hanging on for dear life. His thumb found its way to your clit, circling it slowly. You couldn’t help but let out a moan. His fingers began to push up into you, thrusting them in and out of you at an even pace.

You rested your forehead on the crook of his neck, your cries were stifling and your checks were burning. “O-ohh my God, Lucifer, you fee-feel so good.” Lucifer placed his lips on your neck and began to bite and suck every inch of it. Your knees were becoming weaker and weaker, you felt a tightening in the pit of your stomach with every motion of his fingers.

But suddenly, Lucifer removed his fingers from you, making you whine in protest. You pulled your head up to ask why he stopped, but it became very evident. He brought his fingers to his mouth and began to suck on them. You pushed your face back down into his shoulder to hide your reddened face.

“Mmmm, you taste absolutely delightful, darling, ” he murmured in your ear. “I need more.”

Without warning, Lucifer scooped you up in his arms and carried you to his bedroom right across the hall. You always forgot how strong he was considering his stature, but it never failed to amaze you. Once he reached the side of his bed, he laid you down as gingerly as possible, positioning your head onto his pillow.

“Wait,” you said, pulling yourself upright and positioning yourself on your knees. You reached for Lucifer’s shirt and began to unbutton it hesitantly. Lucifer said nothing, only nodding, letting you continue your work. His face became flushed once more, you couldn’t help but smile at the way you made him feel. Almost prideful. Almost.

You made your way to the last button and gently push his shirt off his shoulders, letting it hit the ground. He was beautiful, his pale skin was mesmerizing like a marble statue. But he was warm, very warm, you noticed as you ran your hand down his chest. “Beautiful…,” you said to no one in particular. But Lucifer had impeccable hearing.

“My love, nothing compares to your beauty,” Lucifer sighed. “I want to devour you. Please, let me see you?”

With some hesitation, you reached down to the bottom of your nightgown to pull it up over your head. Your body now laid bare before him. You went to cover yourself with your arms, but Lucifer held your wrists before you could.

“Don’t cover yourself, darling,” he pleaded, “you’re the most intoxicating creature I’ve even had the pleasure of laying my eyes on.” He leaned into you again and planted a passionate kiss on your lips, you couldn’t help but moan into him. He pulled away, looking longingly into your eyes. But only for a moment. His eyes couldn’t resist trailing down to look at your chest, his face turning beet red.

“My eyes are up here, Luci,” you said jokingly.

“Forgive me, sweetheart,” Lucifer apologized and snapped his head back up to look at you once more. You chuckled and pulled your hands away from his loose grip to grab his instead. You placed each of his hands on your breasts, almost making Lucifer lose his composure. “So soft…,” he murmured as he began to softly knead at your skin. “Lay down on your back for me, love. I only had a small taste of you, I have to have more…”

You gulped hard, doing as he says. You untucked your legs from under you and rested your head against his pillow once more. You stared at the ceiling, too embarrassed to think about what was happening. You felt Lucifer’s sharp hands on both of your knees, snapping you out of your trance and forcing you to focus on him.

“Open up, angel,” Lucifer asked sweetly. Whenever he spoke like that to you, it was impossible to say no. With a shaky breath, you part your legs, exposing your glistening pussy to him. Lucifer’s shaky breathing echoed in his large bedroom. “S-Shit,” he choked out, “forgive me for this.”

Lucifer’s head fell between your legs in an instant, his hands resting on the inside of your thighs. You let out a strangled yelp at his tongue began to lick up and down your wet folds. Fuck! It felt better than you could have imagined. His tongue darted in and out of you, his lips vibrated against you and he moaned and hummed from lapping you up.

“L-Lucifer, f-fuck ohmygod!,” you cried out. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, my dear,” he responded coyly. You could feel a smile creep across his face as he continued to eat you up. Lucifer took one of his hands and placed two of his fingers right by your entrance, it was almost painful waiting for him to put them in you. “I need you to cum for me, I’m not stopping until you do,” he whispered before plunging his two fingers into your ruined cunt once more. That alone almost sent you over the edge. He began to pump his fingers in and out of you, faster and faster, while his tongue tortured your clit. He continued at a relentless pace, never giving you a chance to relax. Your mind was beyond foggy, you couldn’t even tell him to stop even if you wanted to. Which you didn’t.

“Luci…L-Luci I’mgonnacumFUCK,” you nearly yelled. The tightness in your stomach was threatening to snap. You gripped his soft and silky blond hair as he brought you to the very edge.

“Promise?,” Lucifer responded while pushing a third finger inside of you.

That was it, your head snaps back and a breathless scream escapes your lungs. Your orgasm hits you like a freight train. You feel your walls start to pulsate around his fingers which refuse to slow down. Lucifer devours the mess your soaking pussy made while letting you ride out your high. You finally come back down to earth (so to speak) and are able to breathe again, beads of sweat pooling on your forehead. Lucifer retreats his fingers from you and takes one last taste of you from his now cum-soaked fingers.

“Mmmm, fuck sweetheart, never tasted anything more enticing than you in my entire existence,” Lucifer praised. You brought your hands to face to cover up your cherry red cheeks. His words never failed to make your head fuzzy.

“Luciferrrrr,” you whine playfully, “you can’t just say things like that!”

Lucifer chuckled, “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you, love.”

You propped up onto your elbows. Lucifer had straightened up and was now on his knees in front of you. Your eyesight trailed downward and it was obvious how hard he was. His cock painfully straining against his pants. He noticed your stare sheepishly looked away.

“Your turn,” you said as you crawled towards him, only stopping an inch away from the large bulge he had in his pants. It lit a fire in you. It was his turn to be devoured.

“Y-You don’t have to do that, hon, I’m alr-”

You cut him off by placing your hand on his clothed cock. Lucifer immediately tensed up. “You’re right, I don’t have to,” you said looking up at him with ravenous eyes, “but I want to.” You heard Lucifer audibly gulp. “On your back, Luci,” you coerced.

Lucifer nodded and did as you said. He made his way to his pillow and laid down, holding his breath. You began your ascent, crawling and hovering over him. He looked so adorable beneath you. Your hands made their way to his belt, pulling it off in a flash with a clank to the floor. The button and zipper were next. Carefully you undid both with ease. You reached for the hem of his white pants and eased them down his legs. All that remained were his briefs. And my God, they left little to the imagination.

It didn’t occur to you until just now that you’ve never seen Lucifer’s dick before. It drove you wild just seeing the outline of it. He was huge. You bit down on your lip without thinking, Lucifer looked away from you in embarrassment. It was then that you noticed the large wet spot on his briefs from his leaking tip. He was an absolute mess, all because of you. A wonderful sight to behold, for sure.

You couldn’t wait any longer. You reached up to pull down his briefs, setting his cock free at last. It was impossible to look away, you knew you had to eat him up immediately. His dick continued to leak precum onto his stomach, Lucifer’s hands gripped the sheets beneath him as he watched you inch closer and closer to his cock. You placed your hands on either side of it, massaging everything around the one area he needed you to touch. He bucked his hips up at your touch impatiently.

“Please,” you heard Lucifer beg, “pleasepleaseplease!” The sounds of his desperate pleas sent waves of pleasure through your body, it drove you mad. Not wanting to torture him any longer, you took ahold of his cock and placed his tip into your hot mouth. You heard a broken moan escape from him as you lapped and sucked on the head, licking up every drop of precum that had leaked out. It was salty, but you didn’t mind. He tasted divine.

You began to bob your head up and down on his shaft, taking in as much of him as you possibly could. You knew you would choke otherwise. Your one hand remained on his hip to keep him from bucking up into your month while the other hand pumped his cock in tandem with your mouth. You figured it might be fruitless to try and hold him down since he could overpower you in an instant, but you knew he wouldn’t ever hurt you.

You saw that he was unraveling quickly, but you didn’t want this to end so soon. His staggered breathing and wanton moans were music to your ears, you’d do anything to keep hearing them. You trailed a long lick up from the base of his shaft to the head were you peppered a few kisses. One of Lucifer’s hands flew to his mouth to keep himself from being any louder than he already was while the other white-knuckled the bed sheets. It was an absolute dream to see the King of Hell be undone by you.

You felt him throbbing in your mouth, you knew he was close. But all of a sudden, two hands flew to your shoulders to push you off. “Wait, wait, wait!,” he pleaded as you let go of him completely.

“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry! Did I hurt you?,” you asked ashamed.

“No, no! Of course not,” he reassured you, placing a hand under your chin. “You…fuck, you felt so good, my love. But…”

You didn’t even know what happened until you were on your back now looking up at Lucifer hovered above you. You noticed his eyes had turned a haunting red and yellow, with black slit irises piecing your soul. His horns had burst from his head with torn flesh wrapped around the base of each, adorning his snake-shaped halo with a burning flame below it. His angelic wings sprouted out from his back, enveloping the entire bed in shadow. His tail had popped out as well, whipping back and forth behind him as if he were a predator on the hunt. You were his prey.

“I’m having a really hard time keeping it together, darling,” he spoke quietly, almost ashamed at his lack of control. His more demonic form caught you off guard, but you weren’t afraid. You smiled at him, reassuring that you were alright. He smiled back, showing off his large sharp teeth. It made you shiver. God, you wanted him. And you wanted him now.

“I-I need…shit…c-can I…,” Lucifer fumbled over his words, struggling to form a coherent sentence. You cupped his face in you hands and planted a soft kiss on his lips. You reached one hand up to stroke one of his wings, curiosity getting the better of you. You could have sworn it was the softest thing you’ve ever felt, you were entranced. Lucifer let out a low hum, his wing leaning into your gentle touch.

“Yes, you can, Lucifer,” you murmured into his lips. “Fuck me now, please, I need you…”

His composure broke completely. His lips crashed into yours with a vigorous force. You wrapped your hands around his neck to bring him as close to you as he could possibly get. You felt the head of his cock graze your entrance. You whimpered at the sensation. Lucifer looked at you expectantly, only for you to silently nod your head.

All you felt next was his cock sliding into your pussy until he was fully sheathed inside of you. It took a few seconds to remember how to breathe again. He stretched you out, filling up every inch of you completely. Lucifer couldn’t help but bite down on your shoulder, desperately trying not to cum right then and there. After only a moment or two of getting used to his size, your body started to relax around him.

“Please move, Luci,” you moaned.

Lucifer retracted the grip his teeth he had on your shoulder and placed his forehead onto yours. Ever so slowly, he started to shift his hips, taking his cock out just to pump it back into you at a rhythmic speed. But of course it didn’t take long for him to pick up the pace, his thrusts becoming more and more staggered and uneven.

You could have sworn you were seeing stars. Or perhaps it was the light bouncing off the tears forming in your eyes. It was a pleasure you’ve never felt before. You felt whole. That new knot in your stomach was tightening once again, and was threatening to release with more force than before.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Lucifer whispered, clenching his teeth and screwing his eyes tight. “Gonna cum, love…gonna cum, FUCKFUCKFUCK!”

Quickly you wrapped your legs around his waist, making sure he stayed in place. “M-me too, sshhhiiit,” you managed to choke out. “Cum in me, pleasepleasepleasecuminmeLucifer!”

Those words made him incoherent. He held your hips down as he thrusted into hard and fast. At last, you felt him throbbing inside of you, emptying his load into your waiting cunt. You screamed as that sensation pushed you over the edge as well, your newly painted white walls pulsating on his cock.

Both of you could hardly catch your breath, your orgasms finally fading away. He stayed inside of you for only a minute longer before pulling out. Your body mourned that sensation already. Lucifer fell down next to you in the bed, his demon form receding. You watched as his chest rose and fell at a slow and even pace. He turned towards you and smiled, he tucked some hair behind your ear that had fallen in your face.

“Thank you for that, my angel,” he spoke softly. “You were perfect.”

You couldn’t help but smile. You scooted your body closer to him, nuzzling yourself into his chest. Still so warm. “No,” you said, “thank you, Lucifer. That was heavenly…no pun intended!”

He chuckled. “Funny you say that considering where we are, my little duckling.” He grabbed you by the waist and ever so gently placed your body on top of his. He let his wings spread once more, wrapping them and his arms around you in a soft and tender embrace. “I love you so much, sweetheart.”

You smile and gave Lucifer one last small peck on the lips before your body collapsed from exhaustion. “I love you more, my king.”

~~~~~

I’m not seeing the pearly gates after this one, lads!!

But please let me know what you think of my very first NSFW fic, I was nervous about writing about something I’m not well versed in 😅

I had fun though and that’s what matters!

[robolvrr]

I love love looove the way you write!! I'm 22- and i wanted to ask about your Headcanons for a bi bumblebee.

He's always been proud of looking good, so maaaybe you could give him an opportunity to show off? A car show, or maybe a car wash could be fun.

hot motor oil ☆∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠°

hahaaa fffkxzkdk. bet! you speaking my language, anon.

bumblebee x gn! human headcanons.

warnings: suggestive/nsfw. exhibitionism, praise, voyeurism.

bumblebee when on earth at his prime is cocky, playful and a thrill-seeker.

while the inability to vocalize is a sore subject, he's never been insecure about his appearance. he's considered very attractive wherever he goes, cybertron and otherwise.

much to optimus's disapproval, he takes the time to find the newest speedsters to scan regularly throughout the decades.

while he's particular with what automobiles he claims, there's a clear taste for flashy, fast horsepower.

he adores weaving between traffic, secret drag races, because the racers and humans react. it's either anger, frustration, awe or jealousy. makes his chassis get all warm knowing that just being in his alt-modes gains attention without applying much effort.

the thing is though - he does. constant buffing. avoids mud like the plague and never gets insects stuck in his grills. his bumper never gets scuffed and he might have found a car wash or two with easy on the optic workers who gladly accept fat tips and rub between his panels and exterior with feather light touches.

they don't look too much through his tinted windshield or question the pink fluids collecting near the drain when he zips off.

when he meets you, he's almost shaking when he learns of your hobbies.

a mechanic? and you spend hours in your garage just.. fixing up cars?

his spark stutters one day relaxing in your detached shed, as you mumble under your breath with your ungloved fingers coated in oil with the popped hood of an '99 ferrari, tongue licking sweat off your top lip so slow he has to lock his tires not to accidently skid the concrete.

"mmm, there ya go. shiny and just as gorgeous. bet i could go on a real fast ride with you now, huh?"

"kkkrrtt! my chick do stuff that your chick wish she could — chhhtk — krrrz!"

"oh my god, bee, please — hey! do not leak in my garage baby."

he has never made his attraction for you quiet.

it's difficult to course through radio signals in regular conversation but you always look so charmed when he chirps out song lyrics you know, so chatting you up during repair sessions is frequent.

once his leash has been loosened some and you're teetering ripping back the veil of platonic and more, you let him know the other aspect of your interests.

he stares at the shiny poster in your hands, watching you animatedly explain just what a "muscle car show" was. his brow ridge raises. okaay, you got his attention.

while you didn't expect to win (which he rolled his optics to because really, this is him you're talking about), it'd be fun. it would only last a few hours. all he has to do is sit still and look pretty.

look still and look. pretty. his flaps flutter, proud. damn straight he's pretty.

when you roll him to the flat plain one saturday afternoon, his wheels look brand-new and his hood has signature, thick black accents.

even has that "new smell" to him, rubber flawless and paint with that glittering coat.

fancy little bastard managed to get some butterfly doors. you coo between his engine revving he's being such a little show-off.

what he didn't expect was the constant attention to be so distracting. it's warm and there's an internal message to start blasting his cooling fans because his temperature is starting to up a tick.

there's so, so many cars. yet he's fully in the center, which means at times he feels like he's being surrounded.

bumblebee takes a gander while he plays some old rock softly to cover the fizzle of his motor, eyeing the classics and more modern bodystyle frames.

almost beeps when you bend down to show a man his chrome mufflers. your hands run along his rims and he's starting to feel.. funny.

"damn. how'd you get such a sexy car?"

"ahh... magician never shares their tricks. wanna feel the inside?"

cue the radio shorting out, because suddenly his doors are unfolding and men and women alike start to crowd him, cooing and taking pictures.

the sensory overload from curious palms smoothing over his dash? you lean into him to adjust his mirror and cheekily grab the clutch. his engine roars.

"you know. i never thought i'd say i fuck a sports car but jesus, you've outdone yourself... oh, cmon, how much you selling for?"

"my bumblebee? girl, i ain't ever putting him up for sale. he's my sweet stallion."

his processor is humming. angles his frontal mirrors as you keep teasing him, even going as far to spank his bumper slightly before bragging about the genuine leather interiors and letting his admirers lounge inside, encouraging them to ask questions.

exhaust slips from pipes as he tries not to let the electricity cloak his frame suffocate when you press a silky smooch on his window. the kiss-mark looks like it's been left behind on foggy, shower glass.

is it a shocker you win? nope. easiest $5K of your life.

there's a final round where you get to drive him around a lap so motor-enthusiasts can gander a final time. he's almost thankful the announcements echo because you're leaned over the wheel, chest pressed up near the horn.

"you like that? you did so fucking good."

"tcccthtt -- whoa, baby you're killin' me! "

"aww, don't get shy. there's a warehouse four miles west from here. take us there. i wanna thank you."

his speedometer breaks when he drifts right out and down the highway, wind zipping back your hair as your laugh cackles out ajar windows.

pure nsfw.

the golden-black charger rumbles down the highway. it's minimal interference, though the turn signal never flashes and it's difficult to see any drivers or passengers inside.

pebbles pluck up and ding the exterior, which is such a shame, because it's such a pretty car!

however, that isn't on anyone's mind at the moment.

bumblebee tries not to hydroplane, because it'd be stupid dangerous and it's not even raining. but you're a tsunami, a distraction of disastrous proportions. your hand is shoved down your shorts and you trail down your tummy before the straps of your underwear twist.

it's a wildly salacious position. your right leg is hiked up on his - your - dash. your left hand rubs vigorously while the right squeezes his clutch and rubs the silver button positioned at its knob.

his engine snarls. his radio glitches and you can hear the rhythmic churn of metal buzzing and gurgles that suggests he's trying to speak.

"yeah? yeah? such a pretty speedster, bee. f-fuck. you're so hot. you're the best."

"breeep!"

"awww, haha -- nnf, did you just honk?!"

the opening to a dilapidated hanger lingers on the horizon. he bulldozed through gravel and rolls up his windows fully to avoid any flying in your face. your hair is messy and both of your feelings are floundering, the beat of your heart loud in your ears.

he can't erase any of this. those wet cries have his intake salivating with lubricant.

there's a wet spot on the driver's seat and he's almost mad that he can't lick it off.

transforming mid-kneel, you're gently shoved out and his servos snatch at you like a toddler with a toy. his bright, blue gaze edged needy when he's pawing off your clothes and manhandling you to get up on his lap.

his pedes scratch against the concrete for purchase. he's whipped. he's so fragging on edge. all the compliments, all the comments, all the touching - he's gonna overload.

let's just say you two aren't getting back to base for the night. especially not with that wry grin on your lips, before you rub down his body like melted rubber.

robolvrr 2024.

[revelboo]

Will you be writing for Earthspark Bee at all 🥹 I just started the series and he’s ✨everything✨

Sure. I’m going to have to make something of an update schedule at some point, because I’m well over 30 independent story lines at this point. I’m used to working on multiple projects at the same time, but I don’t think I’ve ever been outlining/writing any more than 6 projects at a time. Need to update the Masterlist, too

The Future Freaks Me Out

TF Earthspark x Reader

• Peds and servos scrabbling to stop his tumble down the hillside, he feels every strike when he hits trees and rocks on the way down. Processor still ringing from Soundwave’s attacks as the world blurs into greens and occasional flashes of blue sky before he slams into something hard. And then the darkness creeps in at the edges leaving him to hope Soundwave doesn’t come looking for him to finish the job while he’s helpless.

• Breath fogging in the chilly morning air, you adjust your backpack. Jogging along the leaf strewn trail, you stumble to a stop seeing a flash of yellow through the underbrush. Cautiously approaching, your breath catches in surprise. It’s one thing to see them on the news, but this is the first time you’ve ever seen a real Cybertronian before. And you recognize this one. Bumblebee. An autobot, but he looks like he’s seen better days. Optics shuttered as you crouch to study him, startling when he vents raggedly. Alive, but hurt.

• Soft, warm fingers brush the curve of one of the horns on his helm, then ghost over the back of his hand. Everything hurting, he lifts his head and the human stumbles back, tensed to bolt. He’d hoped for one of the Malto’s, but you’re a stranger. “You’re Bumblebee,” you say, shifting slightly on your feet. Knows not all humans like them, Autobot or Decepticon. You might help him or you might try to hurt him. And he can’t radio for help thanks to the damage Soundwave meted out.

• “I won’t hurt you,” he says, voice strained with pain. Trying to reassure you even though he’s the one hurt and your unease fades. Remember hearing about him as a kid, the stories that painted him a hero, though he’d gone missing years ago. And watching him shift, a door wing hanging awkwardly and seeing the energon seeping from his wounds, you want to help him.

• “I can get you help, tell me what to do.” Your words surprise him, because you owe him nothing. Makes him try to get to his peds, but his body won’t cooperate. Hurt worse than he’d realized from the fight before Soundwave had even thrown him over the side of the cliff. But he doesn’t know you. Can’t risk sending a stranger to the Malto’s. Wheeljack had been in the area testing drones, though. He’d not had a chance to radio him before Soundwave ambushed him, but it’s a chance. Because he’s not going anywhere on his own. A little trust. Trying to get his bearings, he weakly points in a direction and asks you to find Wheeljack. Hoping he’s not making a mistake, but you offer him a timid smile and cautiously touch the back of his hand again.

Next

[chimboliosis]

“i do NOT make everything about marble hornets”

the things i make about marble hornets:

cars, roads, cameras, tapes, woods, trees, leaves, parks, hotels, hoodies, suits, tall people, gazebos, hospitals, houses, anything abandoned, sideburns, the colour red, the colour yellow, the colour white, the colour black, flannel, tunnels, street lamps, dogs, rocks, train tracks, horses, caps, glasses, circles, crosses, balls, cliffs, pills, blood, coughing, parking lots, masks, cigarettes, smoke, schools, water, crossroads, driving, bushes, sadness, happiness, anger, holes, guns, legs, death, safes, numbers, binary code, jackets, awkwardness, antiques, mental health, scripts, spinny chairs, talking, mirrors, windows, the dark, running, walking, marbles, hornets, jam, bees, hats, zip ties, knives, sharpie, honestly just nature in general, TVs, laptops, alarm clocks, birthdays, cake, bridges, fire, paintings, paper, friends

[anothermaletfwriter]

Dark Macademia Masculinity

(First story yay, I'll post a companion story to this soon)

Jonathan and Jeremy were your typical gay couple. Jeremy worked as a hairdresser in the local mall and Jonathan was a flight attendant. When the both of them were home, which was rare due to Jonathan’s job, they would usually play a cozy soft fantasy-themed farm dating simulator on their bright pink Switch, or crochet colorful plushies of bees. Jeremy was the bookish nerd of the two. Obsessed with tropes and romances, he would info dump about his favorite graphic novels and fanfiction to Jonathan. While Jonathan loved Jeremy for his softness and approachability, he sometimes wished he himself was a bit more masculine. Less flamboyant looking. No matter how hard he worked out or how many protein powders he bought, he could never see any progress at the gym. But Jeremy loved him for the soft twink he was, so he typically kept those thoughts to himself.

Today was an exciting day for Jeremy. There was a promotional event in the local bookstore. Jonathan reluctantly went with him, only there to support his ever loving boyfriend.

In the brightly lit modern store, a large bright pink banner with black bold lettering above said “Try An Extrasensory Novel today.”

“Babe, I’ll be at the Graphic Novels section. They have the newest book of the CardiacPauser series,” Jeremy wrapped his arms around Jonathan, his white hoodie drapping over his.

“I’ll stay. Something tells me I’ll find a book I like here.”

Jeremy kissed him on the cheek, before traversing to his section. “Okay babe.”

Truthfully, Jonathan wanted to be left alone, knowing that if he had gone with his boyfriend, he would just be standing there as he read the graphic novels. He peeked at some of the bold and brash covers of the books but none stood out to him. Some boring modern day issues and thrillers. None of that was interesting.

A strong nutty scent of macadamia nuts interrupted his picky process. It was delicious. He was enamored by it since it was his favorite syrup in his boba order. But where was it coming from? There were no bubble tea places or even a coffee shop nearby. Hopefully no one had spilled anything, it would be a hot mess to clean. All the residue would attract ants and no one wants that, especially at a book store.

The scent grew stronger as he knelt down on the floor but there were no stains or spills on the dark green carpet. Not even a droplet of liquid. His nose led him to a specific book. The cover was a simplistic black text in front of a gray to white gradient background. An amateur with a dream and MS paint must have made it. It read: “Absolute Maximum: Understanding Yourself”. The blurb revealed it was a self-help men’s book. MAXIMIZE YOUR GAINS. MAXIMIZE YOUR ALPHA. MAXIMIZE YOUR MASCULINITY. Finally, a book that appealed to him. While he read the acknowledgments to alpha males and the pinnacles of masculinity, an aggressive warmth developed in his chest but he wasn’t sweating. The book was smaller and lighter in his now larger hands.

Chapter 1: ASSERTING YOURSELF. The simple prose asserted him to realize his true self. He was a man’s man, not a flamboyant twink. He felt the glow in his body starting to spread. Jonathan failed to notice his limbs stretching and growing to fit his muscular frame. His baggy clothes were tiny on his taller frame. While he remembered being at eye level with the middle shelf, he towered over it in the present.

He speedread the first and last paragraphs of the rest of the chapters, after all everything in between was filler. His once faint abs exploded into rock, hard canyons on his stomach. Adonis belt defined enough to go skiing on them. The flat soft joke of a chest ballooned into firm pecs. He owed it from his strict dieting routine and gym sessions with the bros. But what about Jeremy? Wait who was that? His memories of his boyfriend shifted into memories at extensive frat parties and going home with hot chicks afterwards.

The rest of the pages flew by from his intense skimping. His twig arm exploded with bulging biceps and triceps. He rolled up his small hoodie and flexed the peaks of mountains that were on his arms. He felt a glowing pleasure as testosterone fueled throughout his body. He thirsted for a protein shake. His face hardened into a mature shape, his hands gliding across a chiseled jawline. His traps and shoulders spiked up, bulging out of the jacket close to bursting out. The more words he read, the more of his memories transmuted. All the times he cuddled with Jeremy with hot cocoa under a pink blanket were replaced by his new memories of flattering women in his own apartment with a bookshelf of books he curated solely from their color schemes. He hardly read anything in them besides the blurb on the cover and the first chapter. He wasn’t a fuckboy, per se. He had a more academic approach, aiming to get into women’s pants through the seductive language of surface-level literature discussion.

Jonathan Johnny exhaled a deep breath as his tight top, which constricted his chiseled pecs, turned into a loose black shirt underneath a dark beige open jacket. He outgrew his sweatpants into a dark pair of jeans, which he tightened using a studded black belt. He felt god-like but his heart started to race. A quiet part internally knew this wasn’t him— but it was. This was the real him. None of this should be surprising.

Thoughts of his boyfriend, Jeremy, dissipated into the air. He didn’t have a boyfriend. He wasn’t into men. He was Johnny, the straightest man ever known. He had been straight his whole life, recalling his first time with a hot book nerd girl in the unisex bathroom of a bookstore back in his small town. In his time as a flight attendant, he often slept with the foreign women around the airport, sneaking into his overseas hotel rooms.

The book was unnecessary, so he returned it. It no longer smelled of macadamia nuts. He didn’t need it. He already was the most alpha he had been. His once kind and feminine personality turned into a more manipulative, masculine one. He used the charms of academic aesthetics to sleep with woman, often pretending to know the novels they loved. He surveyed the store for any hotties to bang, as a red head with glasses catching his eye.

Johnny walked up to the girl, feeling like a titan over her, with a book he had picked up that was a modern retelling of Virginia Woolf’s Mrs. Dalloway. He didn’t really care about the contents of it since it was a lure for the woman he wanted to conquer. He peeked down on her, and felt his underwear being restrictive.

He leaned on the shelf opposite to her, opening his book one-handed while squeezing his chest with the other hand. He glanced at her to elevate his mysterious nature.

“Oh hi,” The red head squeaked, rearranging her glasses. Her fingers that held her fantasy romance novel were shaking.

Turning the book down, he revealed his square jaw, “What are you reading?” He walked closer to the girl, subtly flexing his bicep.

“Nothing. It’s just a romcom. Dark broody male love interest. Strangers to lovers. Heh.”

Johnny kneeled down to her height. He whispered in his deep voice seductively to her ears, extending a hand out, “Hope it has a happy ending.”

The red head took his hand with no hesitation. Her face red from the blushing, dropping the book on the floor. She was utterly lovestruck. While walking out the store, they passed by a gay couple who apologized for bumping into him. No worries, he said. He enjoyed gay men’s existence since they took out potential competition for his women.

On the drive home on his motorcycle, the red head noted that Johnny had fit every criteria of her dream love interest: well traveled, dresses in a dark academia style, tall, muscular and drives a motorcycle.

He fucked her brains out while she felt his defined physique with the crevices between his chest and bulging six pack. Her moans were a common sound in his dimly lit apartment. After he finished his seed in her, the remnants of Jonathan and his homosexuality were shot out as well. He went to his bathroom and snapped a mirror selfie to put on his social media profiles. This was the real Johnny. No more Jonathan. He admired himself of the man he was before returning to round two.

[sw33tsuccubus]

𝒫𝑒𝓇𝒸𝓎 𝒥𝒶𝒸𝓀𝓈𝑜𝓃 boyfriend headcanons

you’re best friends who kiss

likes kissing your cheek. it’s just where his lips go. if he’s excited, like after winning capture the flag, he kisses your lips and then gets all flustered. it’s like the first time all over again. gives you these big bear hugs that make you warm. nuzzles his face into your hair during these.

has been jumpscared by a bee before. maybe he jumped into your arms and shrieked. just maybe.

it’s rare the two of you can cuddle. camp is always so busy. whenever you can, though, it’s always so sweet. sometimes you lay on your back and he drapes an arm and leg over you, his head on your shoulder with his breath lightly tickling your neck. sometimes his arms lazily wrap around you, face in your hair, legs tangled together. occasionally he’ll spoon you while you cuddle one of his plushies.

speaking of his plushies. he has a few, and they’re all sea creatures. a crab, a squid, a shark, a clownfish, a seahorse, a dolphin. he’ll be offended if you think they’re silly.

kind of embarrassing. will brag you’re the best at something even if you’ve never done it. has an ‘i ❤️ my girlfriend/boyfriend/partner’ shirt.

you guys have bracelets of each others’ color schemes. there’s a charm related to your godly parent on there. the one he gave you is blue, and it has a trident charm.

he paints his nails with you. more often than not they’re royal blue, but sometimes he paints them your favorite colors. he’d love to match you, smiling at your hands whenever your fingers are intertwined and he can see.

smells like the sea naturally. he uses cologne and scented shampoo, but you can only smell them if he’s pressed against you.

leaves clothes at your cabin just so you can wear them. gets so giddy if you do. denies any accusations that he does it on purpose. he makes sure it’s always his favorite clothes too, so it smells just that much more like him since he wears them more.

when you start talking, he zones out of everything in the room. partly because he’s hyperfocusing, but also because he chooses you over anything else. maybe he has heart eyes. just maybe.

he’s into pda, but he listens to your boundaries. in love with holding your hands. he’s be a little disappointed if you wouldn’t let him but he’d understand.

has tried impressing you by flexing. yeah, he’s muscular, but it was so funny. he’s talking with a friend, sees you, and immediately shows off. please don’t laugh, he’ll cry about it.

he’s dramatic. pouts and whines if you laugh at him for being childish. pouts and whines if you don’t laugh at one of his jokes. pouts and whines if you don’t hang out with him at least three times a day.

asks to spar with you. he’ll hold back to see what you’re capable of and then match as best as he can. if he cuts you, he’s apologizing and almost screaming. if you cut him, he’s laughing it off and telling you he’s okay. it’s fine if that’s not your thing, though; you can watch him :) at first, you think he’s being egotistical when he offers, trying to show off, but it’s kind of cool to watch. he’s like a gymnast, or a figure skater. his motions are just so fluid.

he likes to go swimming at least once a week to keep himself grounded. if you don’t want to come, he’ll collect you something from underwater. a pretty rock, a seashell, some random ocean treasure. he’d be ecstatic if you came with him, though. picking you up and twirling you in the water and splashing water at you.

does not shut up. he lays there and yaps about his day with his head on your lap and your hands playing with his hair. tells you about his favorite movies while walking with you around camp. he complains about any inconveniences with his cheek pressed to the top of your head, his arms wrapped around you.

that being said, he’s also a great listener. he sits there and nods along, smiling and adding small quips where needed. if you need advice, don’t ask him!! no matter how much you love him, he gives terrible advice. he’s quite reckless.

he’s protective. not overly so, but he is. he’s watching over you during training, he’s worrying if you ever go on a quest without him, he’s standing up to anyone at camp or at school who says something about you. if you got injured during the Battle of Manhattan or the fight against Gaea, he would be very worried and so so mad. he would put everything at risk for you.

he gets jealous sometimes and it’s funny, seeing him pout and reach for your hand. he’ll gently laugh at you and tell you how he feels about you if you ever feel jealous.

dating him is an experience.

he has some mood swings. he’s normally a happy, funny guy, but sometimes he gets sad thinking about his past and all the friends he’s lost. he gets frustrated and angry sometimes, when things don’t go his way or if things start piling up.

if he’s upset, he tries to avoid you so that he doesn’t snap at you. once he’s feeling better, he’ll come to you and hug you, which lead to cuddles. he doesn’t say much when this happens. either it’s silent, or you can talk to him and he’ll listen to each word.

he’s such a sweetheart. he’s always thinking about what you prefer and your interests and he’s always trying to be a gentleman for you, though his silliness makes it funny.

he’s all in all a caring and sweet boyfriend.

[xvysarene]

𝕋𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕤 𝕎𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤

Pairing: Rafayel x Fem!Reader Prompt: “You left me to drown.” Words: ~2.2k Genre: Light Angst, Comfort, Suggestive (mild)

[ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST]

The sky was awash with streaks of crimson and gold bleeding into the indigo expanse, signaling the impending dusk.

You stopped beside the colossal sea stack, admiring the breathtaking view. Waves crashed against the weathered rocks with gentle tranquility, a stark contrast to the turmoil within your heart.

“Are you done running?” a whispered voice carried away by the salty breeze.

Voice that you hadn’t heard for almost a year.

You couldn’t help the wry chuckle escaping your lips. “Last time I remember, I was the one waking up to an empty bed after a night of giving myself to you.”

Your skin involuntarily tingled with the residual sensation of his touch. His lips, warm and insistent, had traced a map of pleasure across your skin, exploring every curve and contour with a thoroughness that left you breathless and wanting more.

Months-long restrained emotion bubbled up to the surface. “Thomas couldn't find you, your aunt couldn't find you, even your bodyguard couldn't find you. So pray tell Rafayel, are you done running?”

Even in the fading light, you could see him taken aback by the hostility dripping from your words.

“I thought you would be happy to see me after all of this time.”

Exasperatedly you turned towards him, finding him standing several steps away from you.

He looked the same, if not even more handsome, and you hated that it made the fury inside your heart momentarily dim.

All-white button-up and trousers hugged his figure, one he knew that you loved as if it was a tactic to unravel you. He was a blank canvas in the explosion of colours surrounding you both.

“No notes, no messages, all I'm left with is a ridiculously priced ring adorning my finger.” You rubbed the now empty ring finger, still feeling the phantom weight of the gemstone.

He didn’t miss the gesture. “Did you not like the ring? Is that why you threw it away to the depth of the sea?”

“Is that all you can say after walking out of my life?” Your voice rising, annoyed at his nonchalance.

Annoyed at the absurdity of this situation like you hadn’t seen each other for months.

His brows furrowed at the accusation. “I did not walk out of your life, didn’t you receive the stuff I sent you?” 

If he was referring to the plethora of stuff stacked inside a box under your bed collecting dust, then yes you did receive them.

You had attempted to decipher the meaning behind the items he sent each month, desperately trying to connect them with his whereabouts, but to no avail.

Even with the resources and connections Thomas had, Rafayel seemed to be always one step ahead, not leaving any breadcrumbs of where he might have gone next.

“You are present in all of my paintings; you remain a constant in my thoughts,” he continued when you remained silent.

Since his departure, new paintings arrived biweekly or monthly at Mo Art Studio, each delivery serving as a soothing balm for Thomas's weary soul.

It wasn't until his manager pointed out certain colour choices and what you had always considered random lines and patterns that you began to notice elements of yourself in his paintings; the shade of your irises, the main lines on your palms, the arch of your eyebrows watching his antics.

You gritted your teeth. “Provide a reasonable explanation for your lack of verbal communication.”

He tore away from your gaze, suddenly looking timid, hand rubbing the back of his neck. It was a habit of his whenever he felt nervous. “I embark on a self-discovery,” he began.

“I needed some time for internal reflection. It allows me to really dive deep into my thoughts and emotions without any external distractions—just let me explain first,” he said rapidly before you could chide him on thinking that you were a distraction.

Honestly, you couldn’t even voice out any response as that wasn’t the answer you were expecting.

“I've been overly reliant on you, and limiting our communication forced me to depend on my own. I want to be someone you can rely on instead; someone you can lean and depend on.”

“What about that woman, then?” you blurted out, the question heavy on the tip of your tongue ever since you had first come across the article.

It had been seven months and two weeks since his absence when you stumbled upon the article.

Normally, you weren't particularly tuned into the fashion industry, but somehow the news from Nexusburg had found its way onto your daily curated feed.

You had vaguely recognised the designer’s striking face and figure. Your attention, however, zoomed in on those unmistakable tendrils of dusky purple hair, despite most of his head being obscured by the dark tint of the limousine’s window.

“I commissioned her to create… something of great significance.” You sensed ambiguity lacing his words. “You know how reporters constantly fabricate stories that lack truth.”

“Do they, really? Lack of truth?”

Rafayel approached you with hesitant steps, fearing you might slip away from his advance.

“You left me to drown, Rafayel.” The words pierced through him like shards of glass. “Drowning in ‘what if’s’, drowning in my insecurity.” 

As he drew near, he took in the multitude of emotions playing across your face: hurt, confusion, anger.

“You were gone for eight months. Eight months! Did you believe that merely slipping a ring onto my finger would make me feel better for your absence?”

The anger drained your body of energy as you sank onto the rock behind. Jagged edges kept you painfully aware that this was reality, not a mere figment of your imagination.

“I'm sorry,” he pleaded. 

“You're selfish, Rafayel,” your voice trembled with a mixture of anger and hurt. “You know my insecurity gets the best of me at times, and yet you didn't even stop to think for once on how I would feel…this is not the first time.”

You could see the moment realisation began to flicker in his bluish-pink eyes.

When Rafayel hired a new female bodyguard and began spending a significant amount of time with her, it left you feeling uneasy.

It wasn’t until his own bodyguard confronted him in front of you, chastising him for neglecting your feelings and the lack of communication as she noticed your distress, that you finally felt at ease with their relationship. You understood their brother-sister dynamics.

But this time, days turn to weeks, and weeks turn to months since you last saw him. Doubts began to plague your mind.

“It was nothing like that,” he protested. “Nexusburg was my last stop. I had thought of returning as soon as the designer finished her work.”

The article's prominently highlighted phrase 'SECRET ROMANCE' had stirred your restless heart to its breaking point that day.

You recalled standing atop the very sea stack towering behind you, witnessing the light glinting off the ring as you cast it into the unforgiving waves below.

"You went on a journey of self-discovery, but it seems like you've forgotten why you needed it in the first place.” 

Rafayel's heart constricted with guilt. “I never meant to make you feel that way, I—I thought you would understand.”

Then, he retrieved something from his pocket, causing your breath to catch in your throat.

“How…?!”

The marquise-cut lilac tanzanite glimmered with a captivating hue, casting a hypnotic light against the backdrop of twilight skies. Delicate accents of soft pink pearls surrounded the gemstone, lending a gentle touch to the intricate design.

It still managed to steal your breath away, its beauty as enchanting as ever.

“I specifically requested the bijoutier to blend my crushed scales into the band. It brings me comfort knowing that you’re safe, and knowing that you think of me whenever you touch it.”

He traced his finger along the smooth surface of the gemstone, the memory of him quietly placing the ring while you slept was as clear as yesterday in his mind.

The outline of your figure etched against the soft glow of dawn. Vivid shade of pinkish-red blemishes against your skin, evidence of the intense night shared between the two of you.

“It motivates me to finish my journey, so I can return to your embrace as soon as possible… Until you threw it away and I thought of the worst.”

You gazed at him in disbelief as he unveiled that the ring held far greater significance than you had ever imagined.

Who would have thought that he could charm the ring that way? Everything slowly made sense why he had immediately called you repeatedly moments after you threw the ring.

Then there was Aunt Talia rushing towards you, tousled and wide-eyed, far from her normally immaculate appearance as you made your way back down.

Barefooted, as if she had rushed out of her nearby house in a hurry.

He returned just two days after you had discarded the ring. When calls were left unanswered, he enlisted Thomas and his bodyguard.

You had threatened to call the police on Thomas when he couldn’t stop appearing in front of your front door. His bodyguard, the only one with a working mind it seemed, nodded in understanding and promptly ushered Thomas away from your doorstep.

“The ring reminds me of you,” longing laced your voice.

As you glanced down at the beauty, the sparkling gemstone and pearls seemed to reflect his hair and eye colour. Its elaborate design mirrored his complexity; intricate and beautiful yet multifaceted.

“And here I thought that you didn’t like the pearls I handpicked… I knew that it was too good to be true when the oysters were being friendlier than usual.” 

Pale skin crimsoned as he snapped his mouth shut. His flow of thoughts always seemed to have a mind of their own, escaping from his mouth before he could rein them in.

It was frustrating how you still found it endearing, even at times like this. Perhaps the lover you knew hadn’t changed much after all.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips, “Rafayel, you can't just waltz into my life again as if nothing happened.”

“I know I messed up, Y/N,” he admitted, his eyes pleading for understanding. “But I couldn’t stand away any longer.”

Despite your anger towards his actions, you couldn't deny how much you had missed him too.

He inched closer, giving you plenty of time to move away, however, you remained rooted to the spot.

Familiar strands of dusky purple hair, the very ones you had passionately tangled your fingers in as he ravished you the last time, just within arm's reach now.

A hand reached out, moving away your salty-breeze ruffled hair from covering your face.

“Why did you choose to see me again at last?”

Aunt Talia had invited you for a high tea, weeks after Rafayel's persistent attempts to see you finally ceased. Deep down, you knew that this was another attempt made by him. 

But you remembered how the older woman had opened her doors whenever the insecurity became too strong during his absence, and it felt disrespectful to sever ties just because you weren't ready to face her nephew.

“Rafayel is coming,” Aunt Talia calmly said moments earlier.

The clink of her cup meeting the saucer caused you to jerk, tea sloshing around your rose-adorned cup dangerously.

“You’re free to leave anytime, I’m not going to force you to meet him.”

Looking up, you found orchid-coloured eyes boring into yours.

“Just keep in mind that he will never stop searching for you. Yes, he’s selfish, but you know how us, Lemurians, are,” she sighed then, “ We're relentless when it comes to protecting what we cherish. And you, my dear, hold a special place in his heart.”

“I needed to understand why you did what you did, why you left without a word,” you finally admitted.

Regret flickered his eyes. “I should have been more considerate.” 

As his long fingers traced the curve of your jaw, your breath hitched. It had been too long since you felt his caress against your skin, and you found yourself longing for more.

Laboured breaths and dilated pupils told you that his body had reacted similarly. Finding the mutual desire in your eyes, he closed the gap between you without any word.

Lips collided in a fervent kiss. Fueled by a mix of pent-up pain and yearning. Each brush of his lips against yours was a plea for forgiveness, a desperate attempt to mend the fractures in your relationship.

Bodies molded together, fitting like pieces of a puzzle long overdue for completion. There was an insatiable hunger for each other that needed to be satisfied.

“I will wait for you, whenever you're ready to accept me again in your life,” he murmured gently as his lips parted from yours.

You met his gaze, seeing the sincerity in those bright orbs you loved so much, and felt a tug at your heart. Silently, he took your hand and slid the ring back onto your finger, to its rightful place.

The same lips that you had just kissed earlier were now on top of the lilac gemstone.

“Keep this so I know that you’re safe, and whenever you’re ready—” Artist's palms cradled your face, thumbs caressing your cheeks lovingly. “I’ll be waiting for you at the end of the aisle, witnessing your beauty wearing the veil I've designed just for you."

As the light faded on the horizon, you realised that perhaps this love was worth fighting for, even if it meant navigating through the perilous waters of forgiveness and redemption.

⤷ ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST

[techhiz]

Can I request a es Bumblebee x reader with the reader just giving random hand made gifts like a plushie that says "I love you" when you press a button.

🦝 anon

Echoes of You.

Bumblebee sat alone in the barn, the soft whir of his internal systems the only sound accompanying the quiet of the night. In his servos, he held a small, handmade plushie—its seams imperfect, its shape slightly lopsided, but to him, it was perfect. The little plush, a yellow car with tiny blue felt optics, was one of the countless gifts you’d made for him.

He hadn’t let go of it since… since you were gone.

With a trembling servo, he pressed the small button you’d embedded in its side.

“I love you, Bee,” your voice said, cheerful and warm.

His spark clenched.

“You always knew how to make everything better,” Bumblebee whispered, his optics dimming. “But you’re not here anymore. How am I supposed to do this without you?”

It had all started with a keychain.

“Hey, Bee!” you’d called, bounding into the barn with your usual enthusiasm.

Bumblebee looked up from his datapad, his optics brightening when he saw you. “What’s up, Y/N?”

You grinned, holding out a small object. “I made you something!”

He tilted his head, taking the little keychain from your outstretched hand. It was shaped like his Autobot insignia, painstakingly carved and painted.

“You made this?” Bumblebee asked, his tone full of awe.

“Yep!” you said, rocking on your heels. “Thought you might like it. I mean, it’s not much, but—”

“It’s amazing,” he interrupted, a smile spreading across his faceplate. “Thank you, Y/N.”

From that day on, the gifts kept coming. Paper flowers, little doodles, and eventually, the plushie that had become his most treasured possession.

The day you gave him the plushie had been one of his happiest.

“Close your optics!” you’d insisted, bouncing with excitement.

Bumblebee complied, a chuckle escaping him. “Alright, alright. What’s this all about?”

“Okay, you can open them now!”

When he did, he saw you holding the plushie—a yellow car, unmistakably modeled after his alt mode.

“I made this for you,” you said, a little shyly. “Press the button on the side.”

He did, and your recorded voice filled the room:

“I love you, Bee.”

His optics widened, and he stared at you, his voice soft. “Y/N… this is…”

“Do you like it?” you asked, fidgeting nervously.

“I love it,” he said, pulling you into a gentle hug. “Thank you.”

It was supposed to be simple—an intel-gathering mission to locate Mandroid’s base. You’d insisted on coming along, even when Bumblebee hesitated.

“You need someone who can think on their feet,” you’d argued, crossing your arms. “Besides, I’m not leaving you to face that psycho alone.”

He’d relented, but not without a warning. “Stay close to me, okay?”

“I always do,” you’d replied with a wink.

The mission had gone smoothly at first. But then, Mandroid’s forces had ambushed you.

“Y/N, run!” Bumblebee shouted, his blaster firing rapidly.

But you didn’t run. You’d stayed to help, throwing makeshift explosives to buy him time.

“Bee, go!” you yelled, your voice cutting through the chaos. “I’ll cover you!”

“No! I’m not leaving without you!”

He fought his way to you, but by the time he reached your side, it was too late. Mandroid’s machines had overwhelmed you, and despite Bumblebee’s desperate attempts to save you, the injuries were too severe.

As he cradled you in his servos, your voice was barely a whisper.

“Bee… it’s okay,” you said, your hand brushing against his faceplate. “You’re gonna be okay.”

“Don’t talk like that,” he choked out, his voice breaking. “You’re gonna be fine. I’ll get you help.”

You smiled weakly. “I love you, Bee. Always.”

And then you were gone.

Bumblebee was a shadow of his former self. He withdrew from the Maltos, from the other Autobots, from everything. The only thing he couldn’t let go of was the plushie.

He carried it with him everywhere, replaying your recorded message over and over.

“I love you, Bee.”

Your voice was both a comfort and a dagger to his spark, a reminder of what he’d lost.

One night, Bumblebee sat alone in the barn, the plushie clutched tightly in his servos. His frame shook as he replayed the message for the hundredth time.

“Why did you have to go?” he whispered, his optics dim. “Why couldn’t I protect you?”

The plushie offered no answer, only the echo of your love.

“I love you, Bee.”

A sob escaped him, raw and unrestrained. He pressed the plushie to his chest, his spark aching with the weight of his grief.

“I love you too,” he murmured, his voice breaking. “I always will.”

As time passed, Bumblebee slowly began to heal. He knew you wouldn’t want him to live in pain forever.

One morning, as the sun rose over Witwicky, Bumblebee stood outside, the plushie in his servos.

“I’ll keep going,” he said softly, his optics fixed on the horizon. “For you.”

The Malto family watched from a distance, giving him space but silently supporting him.

He pressed the button one last time, your voice filling the air.

“I love you, Bee.”

“And I love you,” he whispered, his spark finally finding a measure of peace.

Though you were gone, your love remained—a light in the darkness, guiding him forward.

[solbaby7]

Seen

pairing: azriel x reader

warnings: possible swearing but this is mainly just fluff, maybe a splash of sexual tension but I love a good slow burn when it comes to azzyboy

summary: Nosy by nature, you follow a few stray shadows somewhere you know you don’t belong—better not get caught

—

You shouldn’t be here.

You definitely shouldn’t be here.

But everytime you stopped, tried to turn back and go where you came, those little shadows stopped you. Wrapping around your legs like snakes, pulling at your clothes and gently pushing you forward down a dark hallway with only one door.

You knew you shouldn’t have touched it.

But the little shadows twisted the knob for you, door opening with a slow creek.

“Absolutely not,” You say to the hovering shadow, unsure if it could understand you but the way it curled around your shoulders and urged you forward seemed like a “actually, you will”.

It was a little colder in here, a room filled to the brim with all sorts of treasures. Weapons hang neatly against the wall above the fireplace, swords sharper than the jagged rocks weathered by the crashing tide deep below the mountains. Armor and fighting leathers of all sizes and stitching hang on a rack in the corner, perfectly clean save a few random holes—war wounds you concluded.

But whose?

The answer becomes more apparent when you prod a little further, carefully observing rare books; some with languages carved on the spine you hadn’t even known existed. Paintings hang on the wall, some of landscapes, a few of the Night Court, but one makes your eyes widen—the painting Feyre had made for Azriel.

You step back immediately, the shadow holding at your arm to brace you. “I really shouldn’t be in here.” You whisper at it, fixing the papers on the desk you’d stumbled into.

“No, you really shouldn’t.”

Your body freezes, hands stuck in place over the little wooden figurine you’d knocked over and the profanity that slips out is nothing above a whisper. “I swear I wasn’t snooping.”

It definitely looks like you’re snooping, hands all over personal paperwork that once you squinted your eyes to look at, you realize they’re reports; mission debriefs, important information that you certainly shouldn’t know and the whine that pulls in your distress, Azriel actually finds kind of cute. “Okay.” There’s no reading the expression on his face, dark hair tumbling down his shoulders. His shirts unbuttoned, golden brown skin capturing your attention and you force your eyes away before you get caught up in the giant wings tucked behind him. “Why are you here?”

Your fear morphs into anger, pointer finger jabbing at the two shadows slinking about your feet, nearly fully hidden if it weren’t for the smoke like wisps that curled in the air. “They made me, I swear. I didn’t even open the door.”

Azriel says nothing, wings ruffling when he beckoned them, silently commanding they return but the shadows don’t obey. They hide behind your frame, flitting about your clothes and one settles around the back of your neck like a sleepy cat. “Interesting.”

“They’re kinda cute,” You admit softly, eyes transfixed on the newest addition to your shoulders and when your fingers come to touch it, it feels cool. “—if they weren’t so naughty.” As if remembering you’re not alone you look back up, hand lowering back down to your sides as you stand there awkwardly. “But, I suppose I didn’t exactly fight them that hard—I was a little curious.”

“Dangerous thing, curiosity. People have killed over less.”

It takes everything in you not to step back because even though the words are slightly threatening, they aren’t untrue. “I apologize—I’ll go now.”

“If you weren’t actually snooping through my papers,” Azriel begins, the shadows attached to him preventing you from going any further and the two connected to you reach out to the others—bumping against one another like bees communicating where the most pollen was. A few more reach out to you, curiously prodding at your clothes, your hair, curling around your arm and gliding through the gaps of your fingers. “What were you looking at?”

You answer quickly albeit a little distracted by the smoky darkness crawling up your shirt and around your neck. “I was—“ Your breath catches when they squeeze a little, blush fanning. “Can you get them off please?”

“Believe it or not,” You dare look up at him and find that he looks just as flustered as you by his shadows. “I’m trying but they’re not really responding to me at the moment.”

Panic is evident on your face and the swirling gems containing the true extent of his power behinds to glow a little, shadows being pulled back like a magnet no matter how hard they latch on. “Does that happen often.”

Azriel’s hand reached out, snatching at one that dared try to pull away. He doesn’t look at you when he tucks it back with the others. “No.”

There’s a pause, a silence that’s not exactly uncomfortable but you still feel the need to fill it when you skim over parts of the room you hadn’t been able to explore before. “What is all of this stuff?” You’re moving before you can tell your feet to stop, settling before a glass cabinet filled with all sorts of precious gems, glimmering necklaces and two neatly hung dresses and though neither are quite as high quality as the stones; your hand still hovers over them, fingertips millimeters from the shiny glass. “It’s beautiful.”

You don’t hear anything for some time, too entranced with the golden arm cuff that had been carefully designed into a vine with detailed leaves and stems that seemed to grow the longer you stared at it. “They’re for,” Azriels voice is low, clearing his throat when his breath catches slightly. “—they were for my mother.”

Were.

You don’t look at him, granting him the gift of privacy because it was obvious this wasn’t exactly an easy subject and even more clear that procuring this many words from him was a feat in itself. You hum instead, trying to appear as casual as possible as you appreciate items not meant for other eyes—treasures meant for a someone who was no longer with us. “She must’ve been lovely—probably a bit complex,” You say without thinking. “Probably really kind too and good with nature,” You add, looking back at the arm cuff.

A blush forms when you finally turn to face him again, his mouth is slightly agape and you can’t quite put your finger on the way he’s staring at you. “You get all that from some jewelry?”

You scoff as if they’re your own, defending them like you’d picked them yourself. “They’re not just jewelry. Look at how intricate the pieces are,” You point at them, never touching the glass in fear of leaving a fingerprint or possibly breaking it. “Each and every one of them probably look careful thought and planning and endless hours of time spent bringing it to life. The care; the love put into them it’s—“ You let out a breath, realizing how fast you were talking and how quick you were breathing. Suddenly, you feel shy with his eyes studying you. “It’d be a disservice to just call them jewelry when it’s so clear her soul’s in every piece.”

Azriel’s not a man of many words, so you don’t force them. Instead you dip you head in farewell, returning the clingy shadows and making way to leave when you hear a whisper so soft you nearly mistake it for the wind. “I thought so too.”

[dc418writes]

I Hope You Cry for Me Like I Cry for You…

✨Pairing✨: John Stewartxblack!reader

Summary🪄: Not everything is as John left it. Certainly not you (AU)

🚨: 18+ NO MINORS!!, angst, technical breaking and entering (but we let it slide this time), brief mention of unprotected past happy adult fun times (everyone please be safe out there!), p in v, brief mentions of nudity, bits of fluff mixed in (it’s me so you already know lol)

Fic inspo: (loosely inspired by)

*DISCLAIMER!: I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP or pictures used as they were all found via Pinterest*

Gently landing on the lush grass, John instantly feels a calmness wash over him that only the familiar single story farmhouse could grant. Even from the outside he could already feel your presence from the bed of colorful flowers just below the porch. The wind chime gently swaying in the evening breeze creating a bright melody that somehow embodied you.

He’s careful climbing the three steps to the creaky porch that groans under his weight. Using your spare under the leg of your favorite rocking chair, John enters the quiet home immediately hit with the clean smell of detergent mixed with something citrus. Probably that one candle you loved and kept stocked as if you’d never see another one again.

“A whole case?,” John asked placing the wooden box in the bed of his truck. He should’ve known you didn’t just want to ‘look around’ that day at the farmer’s market when you made a direct bee-line to a cutely decorated table displaying homemade lotions and balms.

“I’m supporting a friend,” you shrugged. A hint of guilt in your brown eyes like a child getting caught stealing a freshly baked cookie after being told to wait.

The man just chuckled with a shake of his head before placing a soft kiss to your glossy lips.

John knows this is a bad idea, he shouldn’t even be on Earth - due to Galaxy 515-1 to check on a possible threat - yet he couldn’t stay away. It’s already been a year since he last saw you, and he’s honestly surprised he lasted that long. On the outside, he remained the calm and focused military man he was trained to be. Yet internally, every cell in his body craved you. Every night thoughts of you filled his mind and flooded his dreams. The distractions of a busy day no longer present to suppress his aching emotions. Sometimes, he’d go for another jog - and another, and another - until his body was exhausted enough to demand sleep of him. Other times he’d just lie there with all the feelings.

Picture the moments between the two of you that he’d never let himself forget.

“That one’s my favorite,” a soft, harmonious voice speaks causing John to look away from the galaxy projected on the wall in front of him. Long braids stopping just above your hips, your eyes sparkled as if they were stars themselves. The purple, pink, and orange from the display illuminating your soft skin and beautiful features made you look ethereal; as if you were the one from a different planet or galaxy.

“Spring’s Spiral,” you softly smile and John can feel a pleasant stab to his heart. “When I have time and need a pick me up, I’ll just watch and watch until I feel better.”

Hopefully you never found out about its inhabitants. For such a peaceful looking galaxy, its creatures were war hungry, tending to fight each other over the smallest of issues.

“It is beautiful,” he agrees begrudgingly willing himself to look back at the projection to not seem like a staring creep. “You come often?”

You nod, “mainly because I work here, but even if I didn’t I’d probably be here everyday.”

“That big a fan of space huh?”

“Yea, and museums in general.” Since you were a child, you always loved them spending all day walking through the halls filled with all sorts of artifacts and paintings. The space section was your favorite by far though enjoying the twinkling ‘stars’ hanging from the ceiling and life-sized model of the solar system. Many nights - when you gazed at the stars outside of your own room - you wished you could live in the museum so you’d have endless access.

Years later, that dream somewhat came true. That unlimited access restricted to your hour lunch break though.

“Sorry,” you nervously smile taking half a step back. Then another. “I’m just yappin’ away interrupting your time-,”

“You’re good,” he waves off. If his voice wasn’t enough to make you melt, that magazine worthy smile was the knockout punch. “It’s always nice to meet someone with similar interests.”

When his dark brown eyes meet yours, you feel your breath hitch in your throat as your heart skips a beat. How could they be so intense yet soft and welcoming all once?

“It is.”

From that day forth, you were inseparable. He’d visit with you at the museum for lunch, then you’d meet for dinner. On your off days, you took turns planning little dates around town whether it was a picnic or stargazing until your lids became too heavy to keep open.

And each moment with you, he could feel himself falling deeper and deeper.

His next step across your dark wood floor is met with a small whimper making him halt in place. He’d think maybe it was just his mind if not for the same whimper sounding again followed by a cough moments later. Headed towards the source, he can feel his heart quicken and dread begin to flow through his veins hoping he wouldn’t find what he believed to be true.

Finally reaching the doorway of what used to be your personal library, he instead finds dark blue walls of a nursery. Specifically, one fit for a baby boy. Painted white clouds lined the area just above the crib fitted with a heather gray sheet and a miniature blanket displaying the phases of the moon. The other wall held the changing table along with a tall, hand built closet for his clothes. The name ‘Jordan’ painted in colorful letters on one door while the other had stars of various sizes.

You moved on.

You found someone new; had the family you’d always wanted. The part of John that wanted the best for you was happy and hoped your new man loved you the way you deserved. But he couldn’t lie that his chest ached that it wasn’t him. Could feel a crack grow in his heart that he couldn’t give you the life you dreamed.

“It’s for the best,” he thought to himself as he caught a glimpse of his uniformed reflection in the window across from him. Was reminded of the Green Lantern Corps and how his new obligation was the wellbeing of the universe. He started to leave - his ring glowing to harness what he needed from his power - but Jordan’s whines made him pause. His feet carrying him closer to the wooden crib before he could change his mind.

The baby was beautiful. Silky, black, curly hair peeked from under the cap covering his head while his tiny hands rubbed against his cute button nose. Deep dimples appeared in his cheeks from his worsening cries and long, curled lashes fluttered over deep ebony eyes similar to yours. Overall he was perfect.

“Shh,” John gently cooed trying to calm him down, and surprisingly he did for a moment cocking his little head to the side to get a better look at the giant of a man above him. John softly smiled at the baby boy, beginning to reach a hesitant hand toward him until incoming footfalls made him immediately turn invisible as he moved to the corner of the room.

“What’s wrong baby boy?,” you ask as soon as you enter the doorway looking just as gorgeous as the day he left. Admittedly, maybe more with the afterglow of having recently given birth. “Hungry already?”

As if understanding, Jordan’s little legs wiggle and kick making you tiredly giggle as you pick up the three-month-old. “Midnight special coming up.”

He should leave. He caught his glimpse of you and saw you were fine - John’s ultimate goal of this visit. But a glimpse wasn’t enough anymore. After going so long without, he became greedy wanting to soak up as much time as he could with you.

“So I saw your titi today,” you begin after settling into the cushioned rocker. Jordan immediately latched to your breast with his hand in the center of your chest and wide eyes trained on you. “As you could expect, she didn’t come empty handed so you’ll see your presents tomorrow. Promise.”

Jordan’s grunt nearly makes John chuckle at how responsive he was already. Little man was more intelligent than any infant he’d been around. Human or otherworldly.

“Don’t gimme that, I said I promise,” you smile smoothing the back of your finger over his cheek. “We talked and ate. I showed her the pictures from the park the other day, which she loved. Everything was good…and of course he came up.”

At the mention of a ‘he’, John’s ears perk and a protectiveness overwhelms him. Who was he? What did he do? Did he hurt you? Or Jordan?

“She says I should let him go. That he’s just some player who had his fun and is probably on to the next. She also said some other stuff, but I won’t repeat that in front of you.”

This time a heavy sigh leaves his nostrils and you swear you see him try to roll eyes. “Um excuse you, attitude,” you giggle. His dimples deepen as he briefly smiles before resuming his late night snack.

“Looking at the facts I know she’s right..but my heart won’t let him go..and honestly I don’t want to.” Milk dribbling from his mouth and hazy eyes signal your son’s impending milk coma. Like most babies he tries to fight it as you reposition him on your shoulder to burp, but you both know that’ll only last so long.

“I mean he can’t be all that bad,” you say mostly to yourself bouncing and gently patting Jordan’s back until a couple soft burps fill the quiet of the room making a soft, yet sad, smile paint your full lips. “He gave me you right?”

Placing a kiss to his forehead, you’re careful to return him to his crib trying not to disrupt his newfound sleep. As you gaze at your beautiful boy, you can’t help but think of John - as you did most nights. Wonder if he was okay. Had he truly just used you as a temporary toy.

You might seem crazy to others, but you felt he’d come back to you. In the depths of your soul knew he still loved you just as you did him.

“John would love you so much J.”

“I have to leave,” John states in a near whisper causing you to pause the movie on your screen.

“Oh okay.” Rather than the usual wide smile you’d grown to love, you see the gloom in his eyes. Can feel a shift in his once easy going mood that has your brows furrowed in concern and instantly caressing his smooth cheek. “Hey we can watch the rest later, no worries.”

“By leave I mean for an extended time…I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“Oh..,” is all you can manage to say as your stomach sinks lower than you’d ever think it could go. “Top secret military stuff?”

He nods covering your hand with his. He didn’t want to lose your touch. The way it was like a live wire leaving him with tingles and a warmth he’d grown to crave like it was oxygen. “When do you leave?”

“0600 tomorrow morning.”

“Wow…that soon huh?,” you attempt to joke, but it doesn’t translate in your eyes. John can clearly see your hurt and disappointment. It has guilt spreading throughout his chest causing an adjoining lump in his throat.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” you manage to softly smile when everything in you wanted to crumble. Your thumb tracing along his cheekbone - and his along your wrist - calming you enough to keep your tears at bay.

Wasn’t it his fault though? John was supposed to keep a low profile strictly focused on guarding this portion of the universe. His home. Yet he fell for you. Wanted to wake up to you every morning and be there when you closed your eyes to sleep after a long day. Envisioned that intimate normalcy he knew he couldn’t give. Now he was breaking your heart because of his selfishness.

Loosening your hand to reach for your neck, John watches you remove your gold four leaf clover pendant before leaning forward.

“Wait,” he says as you fasten the thin chain around his neck admiring the gold as it shined against his near caramel skin. “I can’t.” He couldn’t take what was probably your most prized possession. Even you said yourself you couldn’t live without it.

“Something not only for luck,” you sniffle, “but to help bring us back together…whether in this life or the next.”

Before either tear from you or John could fall, his lips crash against yours trying to savor their feel and peach taste. It’s the most passionate, tender kiss you’ve ever had that, although perfect, only makes more tears flow from your cheeks to his.

The need to be wrapped in each other for as long as you can has neither of you thinking as hands wandered and groped causing moans and whimpers to flow out to the open air. Removed any and all annoying articles of clothing that were now too constricting. And when John eventually slides into you so deep it’s as if he’s linked directly to your soul, your brain completely empties only focused how good he’s making you feel pushing in and pulling out so deliciously paced.

That’s how you spent the whole night, taking turns resting and indulging in each other. The next morning you awoke having been moved to your bed with no sign of John. He thought it better that way - more so for his sake than yours.

And now he had a son. A baby boy he wasn’t there to welcome into the world nor be there for you during your pregnancy. The weight of it all has him sinking to the floor with a hand over his thudding heart - and your pendant - watching as you left the room for sleep yourself.

There was joy mixed in though, knowing you both were happy and doing well. That you still loved him and hadn’t given up. After what seems like an hour, he’s finally able to stand - no longer invisible - stepping towards the crib to gaze one more time at the incredible being you both created. He dares even reach out like before, but this time smoothing the back his finger along Jordan’s outstretched arm.

“She’s right little man,” he whispers. “I love you and your mother. So much. And I promise this isn’t the last you’ll hear or see me.”

[tarotwithavi]

What kind of lovers do you attract/ are attracting?

How to choose a pile?

Take a deep breath and gently close your eyes. Politely request your spirit guides to reveal the appropriate pile meant for you, then open your eyes. Whichever pile captures your attention is the one meant for you.

Masterlist

Paid services

Pile 1

Your energy has this amazing superpower to heal, like a magic balm for broken hearts. It's no wonder people are drawn to you like bees to honey. You're like a walking oasis of comfort for those who've had their share of love's bumps and bruises. Those you attract are the creative types, the ones who think outside the box and color outside the lines. You've got this magnetic pull for guitar-strumming, canvas-painting, poem-writing folks. You know, those artsy souls who've often danced with heartache. It's like your aura says, "Hey, bring on the creatives!" Your magnetism doesn't stop at artists. Nope, it goes all the way to the bank, you attract some deep-pocketed darlings. Money? Not an issue for them, they've got it going on. And oh boy, strength? Both mental and physical? It's like you've got this fiery aura that's a total strength magnet. And hold onto your hats because popularity is part of your package deal. You snag the ones who are well-liked, the ones everyone wants to hang around. It's like you've got this neon "cool people only" sign that shines super bright. The people you draw in might be total opposites of you. I know, wild, right? But hey, life's all about surprises.

Pile 2

So, this is my personal pile of hopeless romantics. Get ready, because the lovers you're pulling in? They're just like you. You're like a magnet for those total dreamers, the ones who see love as this magical, larger-than-life adventure. You know those who could fall in love with the idea of falling in love. Yep, that's who's knocking on your heart's door. You're also attracting a bunch of daydreamers , those people who view love through these super rosy glasses. It's like they're lost in this fairytale, and they're looking for their partner to be the co-star in their romantic movie of life. And guess what? Your energy is like a beacon for the brainiacs too. You're snagging those who are smart, logical, and always ready with a dose of sensible advice. They're a blend of both worlds. It's like they've got this epic tug-of-war between their dreamy side and their practical side, and you're right in the middle of that sweet balance. They might not be super experienced in the love department. It's like they're all about that puppy love, that innocent and genuine kind of affection. So, whether you're nodding your head like, "Yeah, that's me," or you're like, "Wait, what?" this is your magnetic vibe.

Pile 3

You've got this power to pull in super dedicated lovers. They're the ones who are all about their hustle, totally work-oriented, and maybe even more focused on their projects than on matters of the heart. But hold on tight, because you've also got a thing for those who date with marriage in mind. No casual hookups for you , it's all about those who are in it for the long haul. Now, let's talk about down-to-earth vibes. The ones you attract, They're as grounded as a sturdy oak tree. It's like they've got their feet planted firmly on the ground, which makes for a really solid connection. And speaking of connections, you're kind of a magnet for the old-school romantics. Yep, you're attracting those who've got a dash of old-fashioned love in their style. It's like they're straight out of a vintage love story. The lovers you're drawing in are all about stability and commitment. Heartbreak? Not on their agenda. These are the ones who are ready for the real deal, a relationship with a rock-solid foundation. So, if you've been worried about love's rollercoaster, fret not. Your vibe is all about that steady, unshakeable connection.