#senator!reader

[devilart2199-aibi]

Transformers Valentines! 💝

Free to print out and give to loved one's, friends or people you appreciate! 💞😊 (or as a gift to yourself!) Please do not repost or attempt to sell!

[ctghost]

Get smooched idiot

Give him a moment guys he's still pretty shooket

Like yeah he was just waiting for his human to come back from work while snuggling into the couch, optics dimming slightly and ears twitching because you said you'd be home now.. ratbat should be resting his processor, to save energy and all. but he still shifted around his spot on the couch with the minute passing by, couldn't still quite recharge without you. He hate to admit doing that has been a habit for some time now..

What he clearly didn't expect however was the door bursting open, but before he properly can react, you scooped him up making him squeak and-

mwah mwah mwahhhh!

... and then you fell asleep directly after the lipstick attack, dropped onto the couch, arms slightly still drapped over him. your bat friend is stunned frozen until the next morning.

@yan-randomfandom more lil love for ratbat-form◝(⁰▿⁰)◜🩷🩷

[reidrum]

safety net | b.b.

A/N: screaming nervously into the void bc this is my first bucky fic!!! i am literally on my knees please tell me what u think of it!!!!!! also i'm taking requests for bucky and spencer now <333

summary: in which bucky barnes needs a favor from his favorite senator

cw: smut 18+ minors dni, senator!reader, fingering in the blind spot we are so back baby, pet names, reader gets in her feels at the end sorry

wc: 2.2k

Bucky stands at the top of the stairs of Valentina’s mansion, vibranium hand holding a champagne flute as he surveys the span of the party. He takes slow enough sips to look busy but approachable, waiting for his moment to strike on the target.

It still feels odd for him to play into politics as a congressman, he’s used to fighting fist and bone to get his way and now he’s reduced to his own vocal devices to enact change. It’s harder some days when he has to advocate to a bunch of old senators who are decades beyond their retirement age. Oftentimes he has to dig into his 40’s trivia to be able to make small talk comeplling enough for them to listen.

Other times he can get away with using his reputation as the Winter Soldier—pardoned for being involved in the defeat of Thanos, there are times he finds it lucky to be considered a hero instead of the war criminal narrative he was used to.

Tonight, however, is his most preferred way to play the game of politics.

His eyes finally catch your figure, your silk gown hugging your body in ways he can only be envious of. You’re standing in the middle of the main room, a matching champagne flute in your hand as you charm the policymakers around you.

You are Bucky’s target tonight. You, the senator residing over Valentina’s impeachment case.

Nothing too extreme, just a little convincing on his end. A push in the right direction.

Your laugh carries all the way up the stairs straight into his chest, a warmth blooming through his heart. He tries to convince himself it’s the champagne working through him, but there’s a reason he made sure to get his suit tailored for tonight and put on enough cologne to drown you in it.

He watches you excuse yourself and set your empty glass on a nearby table, lifting the bottom of your dress while you head towards the stairs. He quickly jumps into action and walks a few steps down closer to you, holding out a hand. “It’s good to see you, Senator.”

“Congressman,” your eyes light up in recognition, “likewise. Are you typically waiting for women to struggle their way up the stairs or am I special?”

“You want the diplomatic answer or the truth?” he retorts, letting his hand fall to the small of your back as he guides you up the stairs.

You smirk, “What’s the diplomatic answer?”

“That I’m a good samaritan who didn’t want a colleague to fall over.”

“And the truth?”

Bucky pinches your hip, “Needed to get my hands on you somehow.”

You gasp as you reach the top step, abruptly letting your dress go, “Is that so? You couldn’t just, you know, talk to me?”

“Now what fun would that be, doll?” his arm curls around your hips as soon as you’re both out of sight from the main ballroom. “We do need to talk about something.”

A sigh leaves you before you can help it, “Bucky, I told you there’s nothing more I can do about Valentina’s impeachment. There is no evidence, without anything  she’s not getting nailed for this.”

“I know, I know,” he says softly, “I just need a bit more time. Few days, and there’ll be damning evidence to put her away.”

“You know I can’t do anything to change it.”

Vibranium rests on your other hip, pulling you square with his, “See that’s why I needed to talk to you alone, because I know you can. You’ve done it before.”

“No I haven’t.”

His fingers curl slightly into your dress and raise the hem off the floor. A gentleman above all before he starts walking you back slowly. “I beg to differ, doll. I watched you delay that arms safety bill by five days last week.”

You think back, all the days you spent lobbying and pushing against the opposition. It took a lot of arguing, canvassing, and damn near begging on your part for them to delay as much as you did. If they had voted five days prior, you knew the government would have more blood on their hands than they anticipated, or cared for. You knew it was a worthy cause, and without your efforts a lot of people would be dead because of it.

You could delay Valentina’s case, if you wanted to. It would be easier than the bill. You could read Bucky’s intentions from the millisecond you laid eyes on him. But from the second Bucky found your hand to lead you up the stairs you’ve watched his eyes grow wider and darker in sensation as he talks to you. Like he knows what his end goal is, and he’s hoping you catch on soon too. Lucky for you, you caught on the moment you stepped foot into the mansion at the start of the night.

It’s always a means to an end with Bucky Barnes, the same cat and mouse game you both play that you inherently know is silly but you’re both too wrapped up in the chase of it all to say anything.

“I think someone just needs to prove to you that it’s worth your time.”

“And that’s supposed to be you?”

“I’m whatever you need me to be. Let me show you.”

Your eyes widen and dart across the ceiling as your back meets the wall, “Someone’s going to see us!”

“This is a blind spot, baby don’t worry. I won’t let anyone see anyone see you come, for my eyes only right?” He mouths your ear and works downward, “Will you let me do that? Can I prove it to you?”

“I—I…” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut as his lips latch down onto your neck, “I’m listening.”

He grins into your skin and kisses back up your jaw, landing soundly on your lips capturing them in a hurried yet gentle kiss. He guides your hands to wrap around his neck and lets his own slide down to the swell of your ass.

You feel Bucky imprint his fingers into your flesh and you silently pray there’s proof of it in the morning. Your hips roll on their own accord towards his, desperate for any friction it can find.

“Patience, doll. I got you, I'm gonna take good care of you.” he whispers. You suppress a shiver as you feel his finger trail to the front of your dress, dipping behind the high slit and traveling to the fabric of your panties. A single digit traces a path along the edges of the fabric left to right, ghosting over where you need him the most. He lets his finger press into the center of your core, relishing in the sharp gasp that leaves you.

“Bucky,” you breathe, “please.”

His lips return to the sensitive spot on your neck and the feeling overwhelms you so much that you don’t realize he’s pulled your panties to the side and swiped a finger through your folds.

You moan brokenly at the feeling and Bucky quickly stills his movement, “Shh, don’t want anyone to come find us right? Gotta stay quiet.”

You nod rapidly, willing to agree to the most heinous of crimes if it meant he didn’t stop. You slap a hand over your mouth for emphasis, and the bastard has the audacity to laugh at your efforts to stay quiet.

Bucky’s fingers move through your folds with a guided ease, your core practically dripping in invitation for him to enter. “Did you get this wet just from us talking? If I had known I had that kind of effect on you, I’d have done this to get my way ages ago.”

“That’s all I am to you, right?” your voice raising in octave slightly at the end as he finally sinks a finger into you, “An obstacle to remove? Or use?”

“You wound me doll,” his finger goes about setting a rhythm before another slips in and joins, “but I know you’re smart. And I know that’s not what you think of me.”

The slide of his fingers is enough to set you on the course for delirium, rendering any and every responsibility or obligation that isn’t him obsolete. The pace he sets is downright ridiculous, addicting. His thick fingers leave you wondering and yearning for what it could feel like to be stretched out by him instead.

“And what do I think of you, Barnes?” you try to brave.

He chuckles, his thumb landing and circling your clit,  “Well darling, I think you do hate me. I just think you hate that I can get you like this. That I can make that pretty brain of yours turn to mush the second I get my hands on you.”

You let out a soft whimper and roll your eyes, although it’s counterintuitive because they roll in pleasure for him and not your poorly conceived disdain for him.

Because you know he’s right, god he’s so right it makes you see red. This isn’t the first time you’ve bent your morals for Bucky Barnes, and you know it won’t be the last.

“That’s why you let me have my way with you in the middle of this mansion, where anyone can walk by. You love the thrill of it. You love risking it all, but you love risking it all with me.”

His fingers speed up, “I…Bucky no, I—“ you feign.

“No? So you’d let anyone do this to you?”

Never, you think, there’s not a single person you would let this happen with. Only him, always him.

Vibranium snakes up your throat and cinches around it, forcing your eyes to make contact with his icy blue ones. His other hand continues to pump relentlessly in and out of you, brushing against your clit every few strokes and causing you to break a sweat. “Answer me, sweetheart. You lettin’ anyone touch you like this?”

You languishly shake your head, “No! No, no one. I swear.”

Bucky doesn’t let up on his pace, “Who gets to have you like this, baby?”

The building pleasure imbeds into every neuron in your body, clouding any and every sense in existence until you’re a mess of whimpers and broken moans. 

“Y—You.” you whisper.

His metal hand squeezes around your neck, “Can’t hear you, doll.”

“Buck,” you whimper.

He relishes in your feeble gaze, “This gone on my fingers, makes me wonder how you’ll be cockdrunk on me.”

His thumb circles your clit fervently, adding a third finger and stretching you out with a pain that hurts too good. Your head falls back against the wall as you let him take over, his hand laying firm against your throat to ensure you don’t lose his eyes.

Not that you’d ever want to, for as long as Bucky is willing to play this game or for as long as he’s willing to have you, you would never dare be the one to tap out first. If you could have him in any capacity you would, and you’d let him take as much as he wants if he kept him right between your legs.

You hope he mistakes the budding tears in your eyes for proof of his overwhelming ministrations and not for the vulnerability he threatens to expose with every thrust of his fingers. “ ‘m close.” you pant.

Bucky hums, “Want you to come all over my fingers, doll. Wanna feel you give me everything, can you do that?” 

There’s no voice left in you to give him a response, your body speaking for itself in deep heaves and your arching back. Bucky groans into your neck feeling you clamp down onto his fingers as you reach your peak, working you through the pleasure as it consumes you entirely.

He whispers coos and praises into your ear, “Did so good f’me baby. It’s okay, I got you. Shh, I’m here.” as he anchors you back down to this realm.

Bucky pulls out a handkerchief from his back pocket, because of course he has one, and dabs at your eyes delicately. “Was it too much? I’m sorry if I got carried away, you can always tell me to stop, you know that.” he whispers with worry.

You sniffle and swallow your emotion down, “It was okay, I’m fine don’t worry.”

He doesn’t look convinced, “You sure?”

“Promise.”

“Okay,” he goes about fixing your dress and hair, hands resting at your hips again as he leans in and presses a chaste kiss to your lips, “will you talk to the council, please?

Right, you think, the trial. That’s all this was.

You nod automatically and smile solemnly, “I’ll see what I can do, Buck.”

He doesn’t pick up on your sullen smile, “Thank you, doll. I have to go make some calls, but I’ll talk to you soon, yeah?”

The lump in your throat thickens, “Sure, I’ll be in touch. Good to see you, Congressman.” 

“Likewise, Senator.” he gives your cheek one last kiss before disappearing into the night.

Maybe one day you’ll tell him how you really feel, that one day you’ll feel like it’s worth telling him how much he really means to you.

But so long as Bucky Barnes has an agenda, you are simply not the priority. 

Just an item to tick off.

[revelboo]

May I request a Senator Shockwave fic or oneshot? I ask on behalf of the committee of Senator Shockwave Stan’s (it’s just me.)

Hey, I love the poor, doomed guy, too

The Worst Is Yet To Come

Senator Shockwave x Reader

• For a moment, you can’t breathe, can’t move. Staring at the portal as it crackles with energy and the siren screams. And somehow you’re not even surprised, a fatalistic part of you just knowing things would go sideways somehow. Can feel the portal pulling at you, your booted feet sliding. See a team mate struggling, falling and they go sliding through, just gone. Heart racing when their steel tether just snaps like a string and recoils. See it coming, but still can’t move as it cracks against your helmet and then you’re down. Sliding through the gate, too.

• “We can’t afford to be so short sighted, Proteus.” Spreading his hands, Shockwave frowns as the other Senator vents tiredly. Dismissing him again. “I’ve run multiple scenarios based on the current population growth and it’s a matter of when, not if. Cybertron doesn’t have the resources to sustain the population.” How many times has he tried to warn them all? Knows they think he’s too emotional, not serious enough for his station, but this matters. Even if no one will listen.

• “You worry too much,” Proteus says, shaking his head at him. Like he pities him. “You’re a Senator. Act like one, not some fanatical rabble rouser.” Watches the other bot sedately lift a hand to greet another senator in passing. “Trust in the Prime and stop looking for problems that don’t exist.” This problem does exist, though and it’s coming for all of them. He’s heard rumblings and rumors. About rations being cut to the lower castes. About a fringe group called the functionists starting to gain traction, that they have a Senator backing them.

• Hitting the ground and bouncing, you slide before thumping against a wall. And everything hurts, brain a muddled mess as you just stare at the crack in your helmet and try to figure out what happened. Where you are. Arms shaking and weak when you push yourself up, you stagger upright. Turning in an unsteady circle realizing the gate is gone. That you’re stuck wherever this is as your heart begins to race. Moving slowly as the frantic sound of your own breathing feels your ears, you’re aware of the scale of the place you’re in. A building when you’re almost sure you remembered the scientists saying the portal opened up on some jungle. Rounding a corner, you freeze when you spot the two giant metal monsters. And they turn suddenly to make you realize the sound you hear is your own hysterical screaming.

• ‘What is that?’ Proteus growls, backing away as the tiny creature screeches at them, the sound abruptly cutting off, before it just turns and runs back the way it came. And Shockwave is chasing after it without even thinking. Scientific curiosity mingling with the excitement of something new, because whatever you are, he’s never seen your like before. Some new species waiting to be discovered? You’re quick, darting around a corner and he can hear Proteus yelling to crush you, but he ignores that. Sliding around a corner, hip hitting the floor as he leans and his servos brush you. Sending you staggering and letting him roll to cage you between his hands. And several other Senators are staring when he looks up, their expressions scandalized. “Got it,” he says, awkwardly shifting to his knees and holding up his cupped hands as they recoil from him, whispering. Well, it’s not like they didn’t think he was a little off before. Shifting one hand to peek at you, he smiles.

Next

[toxicanonymity]

🚨 Senate Republicans voted 51-50 to take basic needs from the working class to pay for millionaire tax cuts. Now it's up to the House. Easy action against HR 1 with 5calls

Also defunds planned parenthood and more

Key HR 1 provisions | 5calls | resistbot | prev masterlist

Blorbos for Democracy

TIME IS OF THE ESSENCE! Contact your U.S. Representitive against HR 1, send me an ask about it, and name your blorbo - any character I'm familiar with. I'll write a ficlet or make a collage (collages can be celebs). One per participant. 18+ blog and event.

@cosmickid-inmotion has Blorbos in the USA!

@runa-falls is participating! Get your ficlets!

Feel free to do your own - if you tag me, I'll promote your event!

EDIT: The bill passed. What now?

[corvoqueen]

sub anakin for the soul plspslslsll

𝐎𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐞𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 — 𝐀.𝐒

Pairings: Sub Anakin Skywalker x Senator reader

Summary: after Anakin is assigned as your body guard. The tensions build, catching him jacking off in your office. You hear him, deciding to teach him a lesson.

Warning/s: mommy kink, masturbation, pet names, p in v, overstim, nipple play…

Author's notes: This was fun to write, way longer than I expected. But hope you enjoy, requests are open guys.

You sighed, stepping past the doorway into your chambers. Running your fingers through your hair, unweaving the elaborate hairstyle. Your handmaidens had put together meticulously. Letting the braids fall into loose waves, the tension on your scalp easing.

You shrugged off your camisole, the light fabric sliding down your shoulders. Before tossing it into the laundry hamper. Rolling out your shoulders you walked over to your liquor cabinet. Grabbing a wine glass, and your favourite bottle. Pouring yourself a glass, taking a long sip. You walk over to your office, you slowly slide the door open. Freezing as soon as the word, ‘mommy’ meets your ears. Followed by harsh pants, leaning against the doorframe. Your gaze fixated on the Jedi Padawan located in your chair, with his lean hand. Wrapped around his surprisingly girth cock, pumping his shaft up and down. The sheen layer of his precum coating his length, and the noise echoed throughout your office. “Oh y/n! Mommy,” the words escape his pretty lips.

You hum softly, clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth. Anakin was too lost in pleasure to hear you, his orgasm washing over him. Seed splattering across your desk, he whimpers. Curling in on himself, as his cock throbbing in his hand.

“I certainly hope you’re going to clean that,” you speak up. Sipping on your glass of wine, Anakin’s eyes widen in obvious surprise. His eyes looking like they were going to pop out of the sockets. His cheeks flushing a bright red, comparable to that of a tomato.

“Y/n! I- uh- I,” he stutters. Stumbling out of the chair, covering his privates. Grabbing a handful of tissues, wiping at your desk. “I- I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” his eyes tear up in embarrassment. While you walk over to him, “I-“ you cut him off by cupping his face.

“Would you calm down please?” He whimpers in response to your words, his hands clamping over his cock. His legs folding under him, as he looked up at you. With those big, blue watery eyes.

He nods, “m’ sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” He whispers, breathlessly. His body trembling ever so slightly. A few tears spilling over his waterline. He wipes his hand off on his thigh, slowly reaching for your wrist. Gently wrapping his fingers around it, waiting for you to protest. When you don’t, he leans into your touch. Closing his eyes, trapping his bottom lip with his teeth. “Do you… hate me now?” He mumbles, sheepishly.

Your brows pull together, “no of course not.” You reply, while running your thumbs along the path his tears had made. Wiping away the salty trail, his eyes slowly fluttering open. Looking up at you, with those puppy dog eyes.

“You don’t?” He questions in disbelief, his pupils expanding.

“Of course not, though I must admit. I am a tad curious,” twirling his Padawan braid around your finger. He bites his lip again, watching you intently.

“Curious?” He repeats, his eyes raking over your features.

“Yes, it’s not everyday that I come home to my assigned Jedi body guard. Jerking off in my chair, sweetheart.” His cheeks flush at your blunt recollection, but he spaces out when you call him ‘sweetheart.’ His eyes squeezing shut.

He gulps down the lump in his throat, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to,” he excuses.

“Stop apologising,” you grip his chin. “You didn’t mean too?” Your brow raising, “you accidentally rubbed one out, hmm?” You teased, making him squirm. He tried to rise a little, but his shaky legs couldn’t support his weight. You set your wine glass on the table, releasing your grip on him. Sitting down on your chair, while Anakin remained in his kneeled position. Right in front of your lap, looking up at you. You leaned back, “show me.” You order, looking down at him.

He blinks rapidly, “pardon?”

You sigh through your nose, “show me how you touch yourself.” You order, looking down at him. His eyes widening when he fathoms what you are asking of him.

He looks down at his crotch, “you want me to touch myself… while you watch?” He clarifies in disbelief. You nod, amused by his reaction. His cheeks flushing bright pink. As he hesitantly wraps his right hand around his cock. His other hand still clinging to your wrist. He whimpers softly, slowly pumping his sensitive cock.

Looking up at you for approval as he starts humping his fist. Resting his heavy head on your knee. His plump bottom lip trembling, “mommy.” He whines, and you rake your fingers through his hair. His body trembling as your nails lightly graze over his scalp, sending shivers down his spine. His gaze flicks down to his arching tip, he was rubbing raw. Begging for release, “mommy I’m gonna cum.” He buries his face into your plush thigh. His words laced with his need for your approval and permission.

You tilt your head, looking down at him. “Yeah?” You ask, a mocking tone to your voice. He nods rapidly, hearing the slick sounds of his hand stroking his cock ferociously. His lip trembling, his wide eyes watering. You take your fingers through his short hair, tugging softly. “Cum,” you order.

On command his cheeks flush, “ahh!” He yelps, his warm seed spurting from the blushing tip once again. Coating all over his fist and onto your dress, he whimpers. Collapsing in on himself in exhaustion. Panting to catch his breath, his chest heaving.

You look down at the mess he made on your dress and all over his lap. Watching him slump against your thigh, “mmm… don’t get too relaxed. I’m not done with you yet darling.” He pipes up at your words, looking up at you lazily.

“There’s more?” He asks softly, his tone pitchier. You chuckle softly at his question, his naivety exposing itself. You place your arms under his shoulders, into the crook of his armpits. Scooping him up, sitting him atop the furniture. He gasps as it meets the sensitive skin of his butt, tugging off his pants and boxers. He watches you intently, his head cocked to the side in interest.

“Yes, there’s more.” Your eyes rake over his features, all the way down to his semi-hard cock. “If that’s what you want?” He nods, enthusiastic but still tired from his multiple orgasms. You continue undressing him, “need words Ani.” You press lightly.

He clears his throat, a little embarrassed at his apparent eagerness. “Yes, sorry yes definitely.” He nods, slower this time. Helping you pull his shirt over his head, laying him onto his back. He shivers making contact with the desk, “what now?” He mumbles, looking up at you.

You turn away, lifting your hair up. “Mind unbuttoning me sweetheart?” His eyes widen, sitting up immediately.

“Of course,” he mutters. Gently unbuttoning each one, till your dress started sliding down your shoulders. He gently pushed your sleeves down, watching your dress pool by your feet. Leaving you in your undergarments. You catch his eyes raking over your form as you turn back to face him. Reaching out to cup his cheek, slowly pushing him back down onto his back. You watch his wide eyes take in your form as you reach back, unclasping your bra. Letting it slide down your shoulders, and to the floor. With a soft ‘thud,’ Anakin’s cheeks flushing a brighter pink at the sight of your bare breasts. His licks his lips absentmindedly, coating them in a light layer of his saliva. Glistening from the lights in your office, his arms tremble. With the overwhelming urge to touch you. “C- can I?” He pants.

You raise a brow, tauntingly. “Can you what?” You question, hooking your thumbs in the waistband of your panties. Slowly dragging them down, watching his gaze follow your motion.

He swallows down the lump in his throat, “can I… touch you?” He all but whispers, his gaze flickering between your exposed mound and your breasts. You hum in response, keeping him on the edge of his seat. Before nodding, to which he instantly sits up. His erect cock hitting the soft skin of his lower stomach, making his breath hitch. His big hands slowly reach out, meeting your eyes. As he cups your breasts, looking back down at them. He softly kneads the flesh, watching it pool between his fingers. Making you let out a soft moan, and he trembles from the sound. His sore cock throbbing.

He gulps slowly, as your panties pool by your feet. He can’t help but cast his gaze further down, finally meeting your pussy. A small whine escapes his parted lips, making you chuckle softly.

“Having second thoughts?” You speak up, breaking the silence. He immediately shakes his head.

“No, no, no.” He huffs out, looking up at you. Eyes wide and full of wonder, “please?” He pleads, his voice soft. Just above a whisper, you nod.

“Okay darling,” slowly pushing him back onto his back. He whimpers softly as his back meets the surface of the desk, parting his legs wider. You smile softly at his reaction, running your hands up his thighs. Squeezing the soft flesh, making him moan.

You climb onto the desk, hovering over him. Before sitting yourself on his lap, straddling him. Just below his aching member. He whimpers, clutching onto your hips. “More please,” he whines. Making a subtle smirk tug at your lips, you raise yourself. His hands following your hips, as one of your own grasp his cock tightly. “Uhh,” he gasps. His hips bucking instinctively. You slowly glide the tip along your fold, his precum smearing along the skin. “Ahh… mmm… mommy.” He whimpers at the stimulation, his eyes squeezing shut.

“You’re doing so well for me baby,” you speak up. Guiding the tip to your slick entrance, slowly lowering yourself onto his length. Making him gasp, as you feel his thick cock part your walls.

“Oh, hnnng.” His fingers dig into your hips, bucking a little. His eyes still squeezed shut as he pants, whimpering as you bottom out. Moaning softly, you tip your head back. Starting to rock your hips slowly, “oh fuck.” He whimpers, “feels so good mommy.” You start picking up speed, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing in the room. You place your hands on his chest for support. Bouncing on his cock faster, feeling it throb inside of you. Too caught up in your pleasure to realise he was grabbing at your breasts. “Mmm… mommy m’ gonna cum!”

You ignore his whines, continuing your pace. Before you know it his hot seed pumps into your pussy. Coating your walls white with his cum. You keep going and he starts squeezing your boobs, clinging on. “Mommy! S’ too much,” he whines. His body trembling, from his release.

“Stop whining,” you reply. Riding him harder, he whimpers. Kicking his legs, feeling your walls tighten around his length. Tipping you head back as your orgasm washes over you. Your walls clamping around Anakin’s length, making his cum again with a cry. You slow down, catching your breath from your climax.

Anakin pants, trying to recover from his climax. Eyes transfixed on your genitals, watching his cock soften inside you slowly. His hands gripping your breasts, running his thumbs along your nipples. He slowly sits up, looking up at you. “Wow…” he whispers breathlessly. He looks down at your nipples, “can I?” He asks softly, a little drool escaping the corner of his mouth. You nod, and he immediately latches his mouth onto your nipple. Encasing his soft lips around it, sucking softly. As he kneads the flesh of your breasts, squeezing and tugging.

You look down at him, running your fingers through his hair. “Well… we better get you cleaned up, little Jedi.” You whisper.

(dividers by starovis + chilumitos)

[yan-randomfandom]

HIHIHI ITS OKIII I get why he isnt that popular, but he's from IDW Megatron Origin #2 comic, where he's basically like a rlly corrupt politician lol

While i was stretching out the idea where i'd go with the soft yan/obsessed senator ratbat- (cus at first i didnt think much, i just want to smooch his senator form lol) i realized i may have made him too soft and probably a character arc too 😔😔 so just consider it soft obsessed

Ok so it starts out a pretty normal day for you. You're just making some tea for yourself when you heard rummaging noises outside your home. You thought it might be some cats- and you ignored it at first. But then, it gets louder. So you finally decided to check it out. And you found.. a big metal bat. What.

Still, after the initial surprise, You came close to it. It seems even more panicked when you approached but you immediately tried soothing it and putting in some mechanic knowledge you do have to stop his shiny (probably alien blood) liquid leaking. Its eventually calms down and you took him inside. Its weight is sure no joke.

Its only when inside when you put the metal bat down on your couch does it falm down entirely. And it shared his name. "Ratbat". Huh. Who would've guess eh?

For the next few days you continue looking after it, making sure his injuries aren't too bad. You quickly found out that Ratbat, is one of a cuddly fella. He loves sleeping close to you and you find yourself not minding it, despite the claws. The next day, he's already gone. But he surprises you by visiting during the evening. And it becomes a habit to see ratbat visiting in almost everyday and to cuddle while you sleep.

For Ratbat, he was just happy to find a friendly human who had helped him, and the fact that you're fine with cuddling him. He enjoys physical touch, you absentmindedly running your fingers against his plating.. He'd fly from the base just to visit you often after he recovered. It was a routine he can get used to.

But one day, something changed.

It was just like any other day, you and ratbat began settling in the bed for the night. And he fell into recharge, ready to repeat the cycle again tomorrow, with you. Just you and him. Him as your "big weird alient metal bat".

The next morning, ratbat was the one who woke up first. And he feels.. odd.

He feels his own frame's weight is heavy. he suddenly feels too aware of every shift in his plating- his claws twitchs.. and it feels too big, heavy, and- and wrong.

what?

His optics snapped open. He feels a warm body beside him and- ah. Of course.. he remembers.

He's in your home.

He shifts a little to see your smaller form, still sleeping next to him, peaceful. Unaware of the massive stranger in your bed now.

His breath hitchs.

What if you woke up- not to your small, cuddly and affectionate (not that he'd be any less if you'd allow it in this form..) little weird alien metal bat.

What if you woke up and quickly realized something is amiss? And your eyes would darted to him- and what happens when you looked at him and-

You flinch? Eyes widen in realization, horror and fear?

A small part of him tells him- it's logical. Of course you'd be afraid. He's no longer reduced to a small helpless thing, who relies on others to survive. He should be happy- delighted to have his old body back. Because it means he has his power back.

But why does it feel so wrong now? Why does it have to happen now? Just when he thought he can finally have something- a someone, someone nice- someone kind, to spend time with?

Why is his processor thinking that no. No. He should be small- like last night, where everything is just him- Ratbat and you.

Not Senator Ratbat.

He should someone who is be able to fit in your embrace-

not someone who is too big for your bed.

Before his thoughts can go any further- he hears you mumbling and shifting. His optics darts back at you, slowing opening your eyes, and blinking up at him.

He does not blink back.

And you just mumbled,

"Hey.. ratbat... you got big."

He swore he nearly short cuircuited.

TEHEHEEHSHHWHEHE if you can't tell i looove writing in his POV 🤭🤭💖💖💞

Andd I'd totally love to see your take on soft yan/obsessed bots !!!!! Ty for letting me ramble hihihihi <333 💗💞✨️

-🪴 Anon

Obsessed!Senator Ratbat x Human!Reader

a/n: yes. senator ratbat. ratbat as in soundwave's casssette. also if you're 🪴 anon GO TO THE BOTTOM RN!!!

— This is written as a continuation from anon's ask! Please read it first hehehehe it's so cute — 🦇

After a few struggles involving a window, a screwdriver, dishwashing soap, and a hammer—Ratbat finally got out of your house.

[Granted, he could have just mass-shifted or transformed to fit in the hole, but watching you come up with ideas and struggle was too good to pass up—along with other reasons, such as not wanting to reveal his abilities yet.]

Now, he sits beside the broken window, legs folded over his chassis. Ratbat looks up, his optics registering that the day has barely started. A tauntful gradient sky stretches above him, a quiet reminder of how much time he still has with you.

Which would be the usual. But considering the circumstances—his unexpected form, the schedule may have changed a little.

From whatever this is, Soundwave's reaction is most unpredictable. Would he slaughter Ratbat right there and then, or turn him back to his cassette form? Even the possibility of keeping him in this state is viable. He knows he doesn't stand a chance against him or his leader, Megatron.

His optics narrow. There's also the likelihood that they intended to turn him back to his root mode. This sort of thing doesn't happen for no reason. Maybe Shockwave has something to do with it. Did they notice him taking more time away from the crew?

"I'm back," you beam, walking into the window view with a towel between your hands. He feels a small, giddy jump at his spark, but he forcefully shoves it down. "You doing okay, Ratbat?"

He only nods, opting not to respond verbally. Many thoughts and questions are storming in his processor, too overwhelming to put into words.

A light, patting touch on his hand earns his already-given attention. He tilts his head to you, the warmest expression on your face—an expression he's never been given by anyone else before.

"Were you ever gonna tell me you can turn into this?" you chuckle, the sound subtly fluttering Ratbat's wings. "You look different. Handsome? Beautiful? Let's say lovely."

His vents turn on from the inside, a gentle hum whirring from the fans. It's not too loud, but it's still an incredibly embarrassing display—he's just glad you don't know too much about Cybertronians.

Ratbat lifts a servo and gently pokes your cheek, bringing out an amused smile from you. His engine purrs at your reaction.

You hold his finger with both hands, slightly turning your head away, feeling the metal texture. "Okay, okay. I guess you'll be going now, then?"

He pauses.

Hmm. No, not yet. Not now.

"I'll stay for a little more," he murmurs, watching your smile widen and how you affectionately rub his giant finger.

now he just doesn't wanna leave you 😭 but alas there'll be consequences

-

-

----------

hi 🪴 anon

giving you a big fat kiss on the forehead (with consent), BECAUSE THIS TOOK FOREVER IM SO SORRY (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠) I wanted to read the comic full first before touching your ask omg 😭😭

my first thought on reading this, by the way, are you not a writer already?? you're fantastic!! gimme ur account if u do have one!! i love it!!

please ramble anytime you want ..... im all in for it, even if i take forever to respond 😭 AAAAA THANK YOU FOR SHARING ME THISSSS 💕💕💕 RATBAT IS SO SILLLYYYYYYYTT UAAURGRJAURGUAHRJ he's so,,, he just wants to rest for real 😔 with you 😔😔😔😔 just wanna be held fr 😔😔

[darkastarte]

✈️😖

[ourghoststories]

"He's kinda cute so that helps" (or something like that) @ Bucky - Valentina

[deliciousangelfestival]

Senator Barnes - 1

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Summary : This is the story of how Bucky Barnes, a man who never imagined life outside the battlefield, met a bold woman from a well-known political family. One unexpected dinner later, he found himself on a path to becoming a senator.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , -

Character : senator!Bucky barnes × female! Readers

By the way, I published my book Arrogant Ex-Husband and Dad, I Can't Let You Go by Alina C. Bing on Kindle.

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Please leave a comment and reblog. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

New York nights had a rhythm.

Bucky Barnes knew it better than most. The hum of traffic. The hiss of steam vents. The background noise that helped him feel… almost normal.

Almost.

He kept his head down as he walked through the neighborhood. No one bothered him much here. A few nods from shop owners. A couple of kids pointing, whispering. He was that guy, but no one dared ask for a photo.

He liked it that way.

But tonight, something felt off.

As he turned onto his street, he spotted it immediately:

A black sedan, polished and out of place. Parked directly in front of his building. The kind of car that never parked here—not without a reason.

And there was a man standing by the rear passenger door.

Broad frame. Suit. Ear mic.

Security detail. Government. Private sector. Serious.

Bucky slowed, muscles tightening out of habit. Eyes scanned the street. No backup—yet. He shifted his stance slightly, just in case.

The suited man saw him and opened the back door in one fluid motion.

“Good evening, Mr. Barnes.”

The voice that answered was calm, smooth—female.

First, he saw the pointed heel step out. Then the long legs, the midnight coat tailored to perfection. And finally, you.

You stepped into the streetlight like you belonged there.

Bucky’s brows knit. He didn’t recognize you. Not from SHIELD. Not from any agency he’d worked with.

“…Hi,” he said warily, stopping a few paces back. His tone was cautious but not rude. Always assessing.

You offered a diplomatic smile. “I apologize for the hour. I know this is unexpected. But it’s urgent, and we were hoping you’d consider helping us.”

He gave a small shake of the head, uncertain. “I’m not sure what kind of help I can offer.”

His eyes flicked to your posture, your guarded presence—expensive, sharp, connected.

“You’re not SHIELD,” he added. “But you’ve got government all over you.”

You smiled again. “You’re not wrong.”

You reached into your coat and handed him a business card—matte black, clean lettering, no nonsense.

He read your name. Then the family name beneath it. One he definitely knew.

“Political royalty,” he muttered under his breath.

“My family’s been involved in public service for generations,” you said evenly. “We support General Ross’s presidential campaign. In fact, we’re one of his top sponsors.”

Bucky’s mouth tightened. “Ross and I don’t exactly send each other Christmas cards.”

“I’m aware,” you said with a calm nod. “But this isn’t about him.”

He looked at you again, slower this time.

“…Let me guess,” he said finally. “You want me to protect someone?”

You almost laughed. “That’s a logical guess, but no. I’m offering you something... different.”

There was a pause. He didn’t like open-ended offers. Not from powerful people.

You caught the hesitation. “If you’re willing, we can talk more. Somewhere else. Somewhere you're comfortable.”

He glanced down the street. Quiet. Cold. You weren’t backing down, and neither was your driver.

“You’re not gonna leave until we talk, are you?”

Your smile was quiet. “Not really.”

He exhaled through his nose. “Alright. Let’s go somewhere more private.”

*****

The restaurant was upscale—too upscale for someone like Bucky Barnes, who still felt more comfortable in a tattered hoodie than a tailored shirt. The chandeliers cast a soft glow, the silverware sparkled like museum pieces, and every plate looked like it belonged in a magazine.

All eyes turned when the two of you entered. You walked with the kind of confidence that didn’t ask for permission. Bucky walked beside you, noticeably uncomfortable.

Fancy. He thought. Of course it is.

You were seated at a private table by a tall window overlooking the city. The waitress came by swiftly, placing two glasses of water down, then setting one dish in front of each of you.

Bucky blinked down at his plate. His exact favorite—roasted chicken with mashed potatoes and slaw.

He glanced up at you, squinting.

You sipped your water, a slight smile on your face. “What? You thought I didn’t come prepared?”

Bucky half-smiled. “You really do your homework.”

“I do,” you said simply. “Now, eat. It would be rude of me to start business while you’re hungry.”

He gave a small, awkward nod. He wasn’t used to this kind of treatment. Not anymore. But the food was good. And somehow, despite all this… you didn’t feel fake. That kept him at the table.

For a few moments, silence passed as you both ate. The candle flickered between you.

Then, after dabbing your lips with a napkin, you finally spoke.

“So… I assume you’ve heard that General Thaddeus Ross is running for President?”

Bucky paused mid-bite and swallowed. “Yeah. That tracks.”

You arched a brow, amused. “You don’t seem surprised.”

Bucky leaned back in his chair, resting his elbow on the table. “If that guy wins, first thing he’ll do is put a boot in my ass.”

You laughed. Not forced—genuine. Quick, dry.

Bucky blinked. Huh. He didn’t expect you to laugh at that. Most people would’ve looked uncomfortable or changed the subject.

So she’s not some stiff government mouthpiece. There was something different about you. A certain ease. Like you didn’t mind talking about things the way they were.

“Honestly,” you said, “Ross doesn’t hate you as much as you think.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “So you’re here on behalf of him?”

You shook your head. “No. This meeting isn’t about Ross. I respect him, but this is personal.”

Personal? That was new.

You straightened your posture. The air shifted—time for the pitch.

“Mr. Barnes—”

“Call me Bucky.”

You gave a nod. “Alright. Bucky... are you interested in becoming a Senator?”

He nearly choked on his water.

“—Uhk!”

He coughed once, set the glass down, and stared at you in disbelief.

“…What did you just say?”

You remained composed. “You didn’t mishear. If you’re open to it, my family is willing to back your campaign.”

Bucky blinked. Several times.

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m not.”

“You want me to run for office? Why?”

He scoffed lightly. “You do know who I am, right?”

“I do. You’re the Winter Soldier. You’ve been controlled, redeemed, erased, remembered. You fought in a hundred wars—some you didn’t choose. You’ve lived long enough to know what governments are capable of. That makes you... credible.”

“You forgot assassin, war criminal, damaged goods.”

You tilted your head. “I didn’t forget. I just don’t believe any of those disqualify you.”

Bucky leaned forward, eyes narrowed. “You’re serious?”

“As serious as the next election cycle.”

He exhaled slowly, still stunned. “There’s no way I was your first option.”

You answer with low voice “You weren’t.”

He chuckled once. “Thought so. So what happened to Plan A?”

You took a small breath and sipped your water. “There was… a tragedy.”

Bucky’s expression sobered. “Sorry to hear that.”

You nodded once, then glanced out the window.

“He fell into another vagina.”

Bucky blinked. His mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again.

“…I’m sorry?”

You met his eyes calmly. “He cheated. Loudly. With a campaign intern.”

“Oh.”

“He was my fiancé.”

Now Bucky really didn’t know what to say. He just gave a stiff nod. “Right.”

It hadn’t even been 24 hours since your world tilted.

Yesterday, your ex-fiancé—once your family’s golden ticket to the Senate—was caught red-handed. Quite literally. His assistant. His office. His stupidity.

The headlines hadn’t dropped yet, but your family didn’t need to wait. The betrayal burned hotter than the scandal.

They pulled the plug immediately. All funding. All endorsements. Gone. And when the question came—Who now?—the answer practically presented itself on the flat screen in the strategy room.

The news was replaying footage of the new Captain America... and beside him, the Winter Soldier.

You pointed to the screen. “We found one.”

*****

Now here you were, sitting across from James Buchanan Barnes, in a glass-walled restaurant that practically screamed press bait.

Photographers lurked near the sidewalk. You made sure of it.

Bucky, on the other hand, looked tense—like he was waiting for someone to yell ambush.

His eyes scanned the room, jaw tight, one hand still loose near his lap as if he were expecting to reach for a weapon.

He hadn’t touched his fork yet. “What if I say no?”

You set your water glass down, fingers tapping lightly on the base.

“Then you say no. And I move to the next name on the list.” You leaned forward slightly, voice even. “But you’re here, Bucky. That already tells me something.”

He narrowed his eyes. “It means I’m hungry.”

You smiled. “Sure. But let’s not pretend this is just dinner.”

Before he could reply, a flash caught his peripheral vision. He turned his head sharply—click, click, click—paparazzi. At least four of them, snapping shots through the restaurant window.

He turned back slowly. “You planned this.”

“I did.” You adjusted the collar of your blazer with calm precision. “Because in politics, perception is leverage. Sitting down with me tonight implies interest. That’s what the media will run with. Whether you say yes or no.”

Bucky huffed a short breath, half-smirked. “You’re more prepared than Hydra.”

You chuckled dryly. “Hydra lacked finesse.”

He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “You really want me? After everything in my file?”

“That’s exactly why I want you,” you said plainly. “You have something no one else on our shortlist has—narrative. You’re a war survivor, a soldier burdened with truth. You know what it’s like to be used, to be public enemy number one, and to fight your way back to accountability.”

You paused to let your words settle.

“Bucky, you're not just a story. You’re a symbol of recovery, integrity, and the uncomfortable truths this country keeps avoiding. That’s why you’re the better option.”

He sat back, staring at you like he was trying to figure out your angle. “You say all that... but what do I get out of becoming a Senator?”

You gave a small shrug, but your tone sharpened.

“You get a seat at the table where real change happens. You get the power to protect the people you fight beside—without throwing a punch.”

That got him.

His fingers drummed slowly against the table, eyes thoughtful. “You’re serious.”

“I don’t make hobby offers.”

He looked back out the window, photographers still watching.

Then he looked at you.

You said "You could help people like Isaiah."

Bucky let out a slow breath. “Alright. I’m in.”

You smiled—smooth, quiet satisfaction. “Good. Let’s get you elected.”

Looking at you, so full of enthusiasm, Bucky couldn’t help but wonder what your reaction would be if the world found out he was running for Senate.

They’d probably laugh. Reject him. No one would ever truly accept a man like him.

Little did he know what the future would bring.

My book Arrogant Ex-Husband and Dad, I Can't Let You Go by Alina C. Bing are on Kindle. Check it out!

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Author note: Please leave a comment besties. I want to know what are your thoughts about this one. 🙏🏻❤️

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[simonrileysfavteacup]

The Jersey

Pairing: Matthew Tkachuk x girlfriend!reader

Word count: 2.3K

Warnings: sexual hints, lots of jokes lol, use of the word "pussy", no actual smut

Summary: You decided to wear Brady's jersey to a game to play a joke on Matthew, but little did you know, it would backfire on you.

You’ve been with Matthew for 2 years now and they’ve been the best 3 years of your life. He’s kind, gentle, and caring with you, unlike how he is on the ice. He’s been your better half, knowing you better than you know yourself.

You knew how well hockey ran in the Tkachuk clan so it wasn’t a surprise when Brady got drafted. Matthew was extremely excited to play Brady for the first time, you could tell by how much time he spent preparing in the off season. 

So when the first FLA vs OTT game was around, you didn’t expect to get an Ottawa jersey in the mail. You knew it was from Brady from the way his name and his number laid on the back. There was a note too, saying to wear it to the game. You hesitate but pick up the jersey, throwing the box away.

Hiding the jersey in your side of the closet, you wait for Matthew to come home from morning skate. The game was later in the night and Tkachuks’ flight was to land at 3, currently it was 2. The game was late, at 8 o clock. 

Matthew stumbles through the door twenty minutes later, stopping to admire you rewatching the Bruins game. “Hey love.”

You turn your head to face him, smiling. “Hey, how was it?”

“Good, I think we’re ready to kick Brady’s ass,” he smiles, walking towards you. “How was your day?”

“Barely even started yet, but going well since yours is going well,” you press a kiss to his cheek. “Go take a nap, I’ll pick up your family.”

“Are you sure?” he asks. “I can get them before the game, it’s fine.”

“Matthew, I’ve known your family for 2 years, I think they won’t mind if I pick them up,” you assure. “Plus, I need time with Taryn.”

“Why? Do you guys gossip about me?” he raises an eyebrow.

“Yes, she shows me your baby pictures,” you smirk. 

“What?” he turns to look at you.

“Of course I’ve seen the baby pictures. We’ve been together how long?” you walk to your closet, grabbing a coat to wear when you went to pick up the family. 

“God I hate this,” he rolls his eyes, getting into bed. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you smile.

Finding Chantal at the airport was simple, Keith next to her, Taryn trailing behind. The second she saw you, she ran towards you, almost tackling you in a hug. 

“I haven’t seen you in forever!” she squeals. 

“Taryn! You’re squeezing too hard!” you shout, causing 3 elderly to turn back to look at you. She lets go, still smiling. 

“Did you get Brady’s gift?” she whispers. 

“You knew?” you ask. 

“Only me, Brady couldn’t keep it a secret,” Taryn says as you all get into your car. You drive everyone back to your house, where Matthew has already left for the game. 

When you had finished getting ready for the game and walked out, you hear 2 gasps behind you. “Shouldn’t you be wearing Matthew’s?”

“Why? Brady’s the better brother,” you smirk.

“Matthew’s going to be pissed,” Keith gives you a little fist bump, a sign of approval. You laugh, walking out to head to the game. 

***

Sitting in the box next to Taryn and Emma, you look down at the ice as the boys emerge from the locker rooms. 

“There he is,” Emma nudges you, her eyes on Matthew. He has his helmet off as always, his curls a mess, his stretching position in progress. 

You watch him skate to the centre line, settling down next to Brady to stretch. You assume that they were chirping each other, then noticing Brady tap his mic. Matthew says something with a smirk, which led Brady to do the same. You watch Matthew furrow his eyebrows and then look towards the box, his eyes turning dark as he sees you in the Senators jersey. You just smile and wave at him, to which he responds with a roll of his eyes. 

Brady gets up, smiling at his older brother before sending a wink your way. 

“Dad was right, he’s pissed. I feel bad for you,” Taryn went onto her phone, pulling up a song. Just a second later, RIP that Pussy begins playing. Your eyes go wide, taking her phone from her. You repeatedly tap the pause button, furious with your result.

“Taryn!” You scold, grabbing onto her hand. You look back down at the ice, where Matthew had started talking to Sam. 

The Panthers took the win 4-2, Matthew scoring two of those goals. You walk down the tunnel to greet him, meeting Aaron along the way. 

“Hey Y/N, how are you?” he asks.

“Good, you?” You reply.

“Happy that we won,” He gives you a smile, turning to walk away. “Oh, by the way, he’s pissed about the jersey.”

“Been hearin’ that all night,” You smile back, standing in front of the locker room door. Matthew comes out a minute later, his hair slightly damp. “Hey Matty, you played great.”

“Hey Matty, you played great,” He mocks your voice. “You think you're funny, huh? Let’s see who’s talking when we get home.”

He grabs your hand, dragging you out of the arena. You smirk  to yourself, trailing behind him.  You get into the car, his hand immediately going to your thigh. 

“You have a lot of nerve, you know? Wearing that shit to my game. My home game. You’re lucky we won or I would’ve taken you right there against the wall,” his words make a shiver run down your spine. The thought of your boyfriend fucking you against a wall in a very public place scares you but turns you on at the same time.

“Brady sent it to me. I didn’t know about it,” you say innocently, blinking at him. 

“Oh, fucking hell, baby, don’t lie to me,” he shoots you a glance. You open your mouth to say something but stop once his phone chimes. “Check who that is. Please.”

There was a pause before he said please. But, hey! Matthew has manners!

You check his phone for him, the passcode being your birthday (#couple goals). Chantal had texted, asking if you and Matthew would meet her and the Tkachuk clan at a restaurant downtown. 

“Matty,” you say softly. 

“Hmm?” he hums, not taking his eyes off the road. 

“Your mom wants us to go to a restaurant to catch up,” you say. 

“Tell her you’re tired and don’t feel like going out,” he shoots a glance your way, smirking at you. “You will be.”

“She said that we still have to come, and if I want, I can sleep on your shoulder at the restaurant,” you look over at him, his tongue sliding against his teeth. 

“Fine, text her we’re on our way, but take off that fucking jersey,” he changes routes, heading to the restaurant they were at. 

“I’m not wearing anything underneath…” you carry off.

“Fucking hell, babe, now, you’re really in for it tonight,” he pauses, taking a deep breath. “There’s an extra shirt in my bag, put it on.”

You unbuckle your seatbelt, reaching for the bag in the backseat. The dress shirt was a simple black one, a bit oversized, but you weren’t complaining. You climb into the back, taking the jersey off, leaving you in just a bra. Matt’s eyes shift from the road to you for a second, a visible boner forming in his pants. 

Deciding to play his game, you slowly button your shirt up, leaving the top 2 unbuttoned. 

When you get to the restaurant, you knew you were in for it. Matthew pulls you towards him, trapping you between the car and him, buttoning the last two buttons on your shirt. “This,” he gestures to your tits. “Belongs to me. Not Brady. Only my jersey covers these.”

“Only yours,” you try to kiss him but he moves his head out of the way and your kiss went to his cheek. 

“Act fucking tired, I want to go home. You aren’t allowed to get away with this,” he puts an arm around your waist, walking with him to the restaurant. 

“You’re that mad?” you ask. 

“You’ll see how mad I really am,” he glances at you. 

You sit down at the table after saying hi to everyone, sitting across from Emma and Brady. “Hey Y/N! How are you?”

“Doing wonderful, Brady,” you smile, earning Matthew’s hand on your thigh, squeezing tightly as a warning. “I’m so tired though.” 

His hand eases up a bit. 

“How did you like the jersey? I know Matty loved it,” Brady smirks, Emma letting out a little chuckle.

Matthew takes his hand off your thigh and slips it around your shoulder, pulling you close to him. 

“I loved it, thank you,” you try to be as nice as possible.  

“How come you changed?” Brady asks. “You looked pretty great in the jersey.”

“Oh, I felt hot. I feel sick,” you lie. “You know how things are with the Florida weather.”

Brady chuckles, knowing entirely that you are lying. 

Matt gives you a pat on the thigh of approval, a signal to start falling asleep on him. As the waiter comes around, you tell Matthew to order for you as you begin to fall asleep on his shoulder.

“Um, Mom, Y/N’s not feeling too good, I think we’re going to head home,” Matthew tells his mother. 

“Nonsense, she looks fine. She’ll manage. If she can’t, I can call her an uber. One of you has to stay, Matthew. I haven’t seen you both since December,” Chantal responds, smiling. 

Damn her and her love for her kids. You’re trying to get laid.

Matthew silently groans, the vibrations hitting your body. His hand moves up and down your thigh and you were actually falling asleep at this point. Matthew ends up taking notice of it, pulling your chair closer. 

You assume it was about 10 minutes later when Matthew’s arm shifts a bit, waking you up. 

“Oh, sorry babe. I just had to grab a fork,” he smiles at you, pressing a kiss to the top of your forehead. 

“Should’ve woken me up when food got here, I’m starving,” you return the smile, leaning your head on his shoulder as you begin eating. You lower your voice as Brady begins talking to Taryn about her graduation. “When do you want to leave?” 

“Soon. Eat half of your food and call it a day. You aren’t getting out of this,” he whispers back.

“Why? Because you know your brother is better than you?” you chuckle softly as you took a bite of your food, almost choking on it as Matthew’s hand lands dangerously close to your clothed pussy. 

“Say that shit one more time and I’ll take you right on this table,” he says sternly. 

“You wouldn’t,” you giggle softly but stop as you notice the dark lust behind his blue eyes. “Fuck.”

“Fuck indeed,” he chuckles softly. “I suggest you keep your mouth shut.”

“Hey lovebirds,” Keith whistles at you and Matthew, taking you out of your conversation. “Why don’t you stop whispering to each other and actually talk? You guys have all year to talk, we only get to see each other tonight until April.”

“Dad, don’t you get it? Matthew’s still pissed about the jersey,” Taryn remarks. You almost choke at her words, turning your head towards the 22-year-old. “What? You know I’m right!”

“Taryn, leave them and their sex life alone,” Brady jokes. 

“Brady!” his mother scolds. “There are children present!” 

“So?” he now earns a slap on his shoulder from his wife.

“Anyways, how’s work?” Chantal asks you. 

“Going great as of now,” You smile at her, poking a piece of salad on your plate with your fork, avoiding eye contact.

During the time you, Chantal and Emma were talking, Matthew had excused himself to the ‘bathroom’. In reality, he was texting you to make up some ridiculous excuse, so you could go home. 

You text him back saying you were having fun and that his family was interesting. He sends back, “Either you leave now or you won’t be going to work tomorrow. Or for the rest of the week.”

You take in a soft gulp and tell Brady and Emma you’d be leaving now. 

"Good luck,” Emma sends a wink your way, Brady chuckling at her. As you were walking away from the table, Chantal calls your name. 

“Please tell Matthew we at least want to see him tomorrow before we leave,” she smiles at you, giving you a thumbs up. 

“Will do,” you turn back around and leave, meeting Matthew by the car. He opens your door for you, watching you eagerly as you get in. He gets in on the driver's side and starts up the car as you begin speaking. “Your mom said she wants to see you tomorrow. Before they leave.”

“Mhm,” he hums. 

“And I think she knew,” you continue. 

“Mhm,” he hums again, not paying attention to anything you were saying. 

“I’m pregnant,” you roll your eyes as he hums again. 

“Wait, what?” he looks over at you. 

“Were you listening to anything I said?” you ask. 

“I only heard that you were pregnant,” he says, a shit eating grin starting to form on his face. 

“No, I’m not. And your mother wants to see you tomorrow before she leaves. Also, your family knew,” you look forward at the road, rolling your eyes at him. 

“The next time you roll your eyes, it better be out of pleasure,” he smirks at you, continuing to drive through Fort Lauderdale. You laugh, reaching for his free hand.

[ctghost]

You really once casually asked for one (1) energon cube for a fun lil experiment if it can work on organic fruits and next thing you know bro got the brilliant idea of getting atleast 8 energon cubes when visiting you again. His reasoning? That this is merely, in his opinion, an effective way of storaging any extra rations he had. In your house. Yep, very convenient.

Totally not because he's affected by the thought of hand-prepared grapes coated with energon. Set down just for him. Even though you know now he isn't exactly in need for organic sustenance?

You chose to do this? To fuss over him like this?? To care about him even though he's not your small chirping bat goblin anymore ??

Yesssirrr. It's soo over for him

Tehehehe @yan-randomfandom just thought of the connection w him feeling a little undeserving and having crisis over his old-new body ykyktkt 🤭🤭

[phantomamour]

part 1.5 to the senator!coryo x personal assistant fem!reader mini-series - part one here (which thank you guys so much for all the love on it holy shit <3) part 2 is being written, but i had this in my brain and needed to write out how badly this man is suffering

Half an inch. Just barely more than a centimeter. It was driving him up the walls. Your skirt was hardly shorter than its normal length. He knew he shouldn’t know that. He shouldn’t know the exact spot your skirt met on your thigh. He shouldn’t know when it’s half an inch higher than usual. But it was all he could think of as you stood in front of him. You were listing off his meetings for the week, asking for his opinion on whether he’d like to cancel one or two. But every word went in one ear and out the other. 

He felt dirty. Indeed, he had to be sick. You were poisoning him. Perhaps you slipped something in his coffee… you hadn’t; he knew that. He forced his eyes off of your thighs only to catch on your lips instead. Watching the way they moved with each syllable, no sound traveled to his brain. He was pure static, taking in your electric force and frying his own circuits. 

A senator checking out his assistant had to be frowned upon. It was immoral. Despite what all of his peers did in their marriages and the sins they committed, he had to be better than them. He wasn’t married. That fact, the emptiness around his ring finger, didn’t assist him in his current situation one bit. He couldn’t help but be grateful for his desk, hiding the way your presence made him no better than a teenager at the academy. 

“I believe I could cancel that meeting on Friday if you would like to make it to the Senator’s offer for drinks on time,” your voice finally cut through as he met your gaze. He wondered if you could see the way you were killing him; you couldn’t. Had you teased a man like him before? Were you aware that your skirt was making his head spin? His mind raced enough laps around the room that he had lost track of time before you cut in, “Sir?” 

“That sounds perfect.” Did he sound as strained as his pants felt? Was the sweat on his skin simply a cruel joke from his mind to remind him of how he should be ashamed of himself? He shifted in his chair, nodded at you, and grabbed his pen back off the desk. 

“Thank you.” He had to dismiss you before he had half the mind to take that skirt and-

“Of course, sir. I’ll pick up your suit for the gala tomorrow. Do you know who I should send your plus one to?” He was distracted. That had to be the only reason his following words passed his lips.

“I’d like you to attend with me. I assume you have a dress you can find suitable?” Your face warmed, and he swore he’d never forget the sight. It would haunt him late at night in his sheets. You had infected him like a disease, and how could a doctor ever prescribe him a cure for something so pathetic as a desire for his assistant? 

“I will find one, sir. Thank you for the invitation.” You walked out promptly, hiding your face from him, and the meaning of his words dawned on him. He hadn’t taken you to an event before. He also hadn’t ever looked at you as shamefully as he did moments before. 

Half an inch. How could half an inch take down the man who would one day rule Panem? 

[revelboo]

Wanted to share this absolute cutie I got in a blind box today! ❤️ I was soo happy to see my baby when I opened the bag

The boy! He’s adorable

Memories

Shockwave x Reader

• That’s not him. Not his voice or his face as the drone pans and the other Shockwave smiles indulgently. ‘No, see, it’s just a micro drone,’ the stranger says, stretching an arm out and his cannon taps impatiently against his thigh. Doesn’t like the way every word that mech says echoes through his spark with an unsettling familiarity. ‘If it’s okay? I just, you’re a whole new species. I’d love to document our interactions, but if it bothers you, I won’t.’

• And the drone finally moves slightly, refocusing on a much smaller shape. A human when your species shouldn’t even exist, yet. You don’t look at the drone, your face upturned to look at the other Shockwave, the stranger, the imposter. Spark aching as his palm smacks against his desk, frame bowing toward the screen of his datapad. Turn your head. Look at the drone. Seems like he should know what those eyes look like, that he knows they look like they’re full of stars up close. Should know what your voice sounds like, too. He’s never seen you before, but his spark is aching as he braces himself against the desk. Feels like getting ripped apart watching this and it shouldn’t mean anything because it’s not him. ‘It’s fine,’ you say, voice soft and uncertain. Vulnerable as it sinks into him.

• Catches a glimpse of those eyes when you glance quickly at the drone and away. It’s not enough. Servos trembling as he accesses another timestamped file. Your face thinner. The recording’s from Cybertron. What were you eating? Was whatever that stranger synthesized not agreeing with you? Why do you look so tired? ‘You think this will work?’ You’re asking as you bend to push a tool closer to that other Shockwave’s hand and he resents that stranger. Can’t he see something’s wrong with you? It’s obvious.

• Another timestamp. You’re smiling, the dark smudges under your eyes gone now, your hair longer. And that other Shockwave reaches to slide the tip of a servo against your jaw, the touch familiar and intimate and he knows you’re going to reach to lay your hand on the mech’s servo before you do. Just like he knows your hand is soft and warm. ‘You should be resting,’ the bot says softly, frowning slightly and you wrinkle your nose. ‘I’m fine,’ you say and you watch the other Shockwave turn away. Go back to his work and he wants to snarl at the stranger to forget the terraforming project. Because the look on your face as you wrap your arms around yourself needles into his spark. You weren’t fine. Needed him and he didn’t realize it, yet.

• Hand sliding against his helm, he wants to smash the datapad. Wants to skip ahead to the last entry. Needs to know what happened to you and he’s afraid. This isn’t his. None of it’s his, because that Shockwave isn’t him. He doesn’t know that bot. Doesn’t know you. So why does his spark hurt so much? Pausing the playback he stares at you looking up at the other Shockwave who’s not even noticing. That’s not him. These memories aren’t his. He loves you. So much it feels like dying seeing you again. He’s never seen you before. Servo hovering over the last entry, he stares at your frozen face. The loneliness in your eyes.

• And he drops his head in his hand. Because if that is him, he can guess what happened. Empurata. Meaning that Shockwave did something, went against the senate. But the lost memories? A mnemosurgeon? Shadowplay? He knows there were mechs knocking on that door, working on fine tuning the art of stripping away memories without driving a subject insane. That bot isn’t him, those memories aren’t his. Unless they are. Did the drone record the end? Record what happened when it all fell apart? They would have come for him, but you wouldn’t have mattered to them. Would they have thought you were a pet and put you down? Would they have left you there alone to slowly starve? Can’t play the last recording. Can’t see how badly he failed you. Needs to know and doesn’t want to, as grief twists through him.

…. I’m not complaining, but the universe apparently knows I like Soundwave a normal amount

[secretlittlerandezvous]

Two Lines - Josh Norris

Summary: During a game night with the other WAGs, Y/n and her friends try a viral TikTok trend where they all take pregnancy tests for fun. What starts as a joke quickly turns serious when one test comes back positive.

Words: 536

Y/n never expected a TikTok trend would change her life.

It had started as just another night with the WAGs watching the Senators game, sipping wine and screaming at the TV whenever the refs made a bad call. At some point, between debating whether Josh would score and roasting one of the girls’ husbands for missing an open net, someone pulled out their phone.

“Okay, have you guys seen this trend?” she asked, showing them a TikTok of a group of friends all taking pregnancy tests, mixing them up, and revealing the results together. Apparently just for fun.

“This is so dumb,” Y/n laughed.

And yet, somehow, twenty minutes later, they were all in the bathroom, giggling as they lined up pregnancy tests on the counter and waited.

Then the timer went off.

Someone flipped the tests over.

And one of them was positive.

The laughter immediately died.

The girls all stared at each other, wide-eyed.

“Okay,” someone finally said. “Whose is it?”

Silence.

“We should… probably do another round,” one of the girls suggested hesitantly.

No one argued.

A few minutes later, they each took another test, this time keeping their own before setting them down and waiting.

The timer beeped.

One by one, they picked up their sticks.

Y/n looked down at hers.

Two strong pink lines.

“Oh my God,” she whispered.

She slowly lifted her head, feeling every heartbeat in her chest. The girls’ eyes were locked on her, a mix of excitement and shock in their expressions.

“Y/n,” one of them murmured, “you’re pregnant.”

Now, sitting alone in the apartment, Y/n stared at the positive test on the coffee table.

Pregnant. She and Josh were going to have a baby.

The front door suddenly opened, and his familiar voice filled the space. “Babe, I’m home!”

Her heart jumped. She wasn’t ready to tell him.

Y/n quickly grabbed the test and shoved it behind a pillow as Josh walked in, dropping his bag by the door. The second he saw her, he paused, brows pulling together.

“What’s up?” he asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

“What do you mean?” she asked, a little too quickly.

Josh squinted. “You look… weird.”

Y/n forced a laugh. “Weird? That’s rude.”

He smirked. “No, like, you’re suspicious weird.”

Sucking in a deep breath, she grabbed the test and held it out to him.

Josh stared at it at first and then at her. Then back at the test.

“No way.”

Y/n bit her lip. “Way.”

Josh blinked. His mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.

Then, without warning, he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her off the ground, spinning her around. “Are you serious?”

She laughed, wrapping her arms around him. “Very serious.”

When he finally set her down, his hands cradled her face, his eyes wide with disbelief and excitement. “We’re having a baby?”

She nodded, grinning. “Yeah, Josh. We are.”

A laugh left his lips before he kissed her, deep and slow, like he was trying to soak in every second of this moment.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead pressed against hers, his voice still filled with awe. “How, how did you even find out?”

Y/n hesitated.

“…So, funny story,”

Josh groaned. “Oh no.”

[ho-for-joequinn-fics]

Thank you @myherometalhead for this perfect masterlist edit! 🥹🖤

18+ only! Minors DNI with this masterlist, my fics, or my blog! You WILL be blocked!

I don’t anticipate writing more fics on here since my main focus is my older Eddie series over on my main blog, but I just wanted what I have already written to be easily accessible. Emperor Geta is all I’ve written for 🖤

The Emperor’s Angel 🥵

Servant Turned Empress 🥵

Rage, Ropes, and Release 🥵

Display of Death 🥵

You Are Worth It 🥵

Geta Bloody Geta 🥵

Worthy 🥵

If I do end up writing more Geta fics in a spur of the moment situation, then I will add them to the masterlist as I go 🖤