#thank you thot prime

[nebulein]

"Washington's showers are so bad. They're like a prison shower. There's a pole in the middle, then just spews that come out of that one pole. Not that I care if someone is showering next to me, but it's just a really weird setup." (NHL player poll)

[mysicklove]

thots on kitty!bakugou getting his nipples played with for the first time? feels so good it scares him, i bet. good enough to break down his sense of pride to beg for you to get your wrap? hehe

𝐀 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄

Pairing: Sub! Bottom! Cat Hybrid! Bakugou x Dom! Top! AFAB! Reader

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: Pegging, HEAVY nipple play, anal play, mention of collar, katsuki swears in like every sentence, nickname "kitty", hints of sadistic reader, pain/pleasure play ig.

A/N: I kinda changed it up just a tad anon im sorry lol. but i loved this idea so much i had to turn it into a fic. damn another fic that is not a kinktober one, ughhh

Your kitty has a very sensitive chest. Of course, Bakugou would never tell you this. You have a problem with bullying him a little bit, poking fun at him until he hisses at you, or teasing his body until he cries from frustration. Telling you about his nipples is a one-way ticket to mewling under you. He's not taking that ride.

So he hides it. Relatively well too; he tries his best not to press his ears back and whimper when you accidentally graze one of the buds. Instead, moving your hand away from his chest either up to his collar or beneath his pants.

You never suspected a thing. Just how Katsuki like it.

"Kitty, I'm home!" You chirp, opening the front door with a small content smile on your face. Katsuki peers up at you from the couch where he was napping, a frown plastered on his face.

"Why did you take so fucking long?" He complains, automatically getting up from the couch, and making his way over to you. He leans slightly leans down, and your hand reaches up to pet him. His ears twitch and he lets a gruff sigh at the feeling of your fingers.

"Sorry, Kats. There was a car accident on the way home. Traffic was bad. But anyways, how are you?"

He pulls away from you before he starts purring, his pride getting the better of him. "Fine. Dinner is getting cold."

He walks away toward the kitchen before you can respond, fixing you a plate while you sigh and slump against the dinner table chair. He sits down next to you, and you thank him. He lets out a grunt in response. The best you'll get out of him.

Dinner goes down relatively quietly. Katsuki isn't much of a talker, and you were tired from the day. You needed a little bit of energy before holding a conversation between you too.

"Want to do it tonight," He says finally breaking the comforting silence. 

You pause, looking up with a raised eyebrow. He doesn't make eye contact with you, but his cheeks are slightly pink. He tries to act all bold, but both of you know he always is so embarrassed to suggest these things. A prime subject to tease. "Do what?"

His ears fall back and he glares at you. "You know what."

You balance your head on your hand. "Hm?"

"Want to...Fuck." He sighs, staring at his bowl with bared teeth.

"You want me to fuck you?" You say, now grinning at him.

Katsuki dramatically stands up from the table, his face now blooming red. He leaves the bowl on the table, and his tail sways behind him. 

"Never mind. I'm going to bed."

You are up in an instant, chasing after him before he gets too far. Without really thinking much of it, you reach out from behind him and grab his chest, pulling his back against your front.

Katsuki doesn't have time to hide himself. He feels your hands grip accidentally grip his nipple, and he whimpers. Loud and shakily, while his eyes furrow to process the overbearing feeling.

The two of you freeze, both with wide eyes. He doesn't dare to move, afraid of what you'll say.

You loosen your grip slightly on his chest, and he lets out a breath of relief. But you don't dare to let him go, now intrigued. Slowly, your hands begin to run over his chest, taking notice of the way his breath hitches when you hit his nipples.

Your face curls with a feral grin, happy to find something new about your pet. "Oh, Kats. You didn't tell me you were so sensitive here."

His ears are pinned to his head, and he gulps. "Fuck you. 'm not"

You gently pinch his right nipple and his eyes widen, a broken whine falling from his lips. "Hmm? You sure, love?"

"Don't do that!" He pleads as he shrinks away from your fingers and into your chest, afraid you'll pinch him again.

You press a kiss to his neck in apology. Then you grab his hand and lead him into the bedroom. "Let's go fulfill your request, yeah kitty?"

He stares at the hand and then you, nervously. He knows you are going to abuse him, and he's not sure if he can take it, but on the other hand, he really wants to be fucked.

He's willing to take the risk. "Alright."

You know too much. Another thing to hold above his head. How is he ever going to escape your cruel hands if his body is so complaint with them?

"Fuck you! S-Stop! The teeth."

Your mouth has made his way to his chest in a matter of minutes of the two of you being in the bedroom. He is laying limp against the mattress, and your finger is moving in and out of his hole, prepping him for later.

But your current fixation was seeing how far he can go with his tits solely. You are still working on the intensity, and seeming to how Katsuki is dripping tears, it's probably too much for him. Your teeth barely even grazed him. "My fault. Didn't mean to, shhh don’t cry kitty."

He clenches his teeth together and the back of his arm covers his face, embarrassed about the tears You begin kitten licking the nipple and he sniffles, being okay with this sort of pressure.

Gently, you reassure yourself and your fingers continue their prodding. He has already taken two of them, and now you are scissoring the hole. He was taking them well, moaning gently under you with no complaint.

You gently begin to to suck, and the cat let's out a shaky moan. Not a whimper or a cry, a better sign. Your other hand travels to his other side and you gently travel circles around the pink nub. His back arches slightly and his mouth opens.

“There ya go. See we did it Kats. Doesn't hurt so bad now, hmm?”

He gulps, slightly gripping onto the sheets from the prodding sensation and your antics on his chest. It's overwhelming him, and he is struggling to bite back moans. “Dumbass. Just be gentle.” His voice doesn't hold a bite, instead it's higher in pitch and shaky.

Cute. But he always was, unitentionally of course. His pride is to big to try to act cute sole for you (even if you begged him multiple times).

He keens when you press your fingers onto his prostate, clenching his teeth with his ears pressed against the top of his head. You immediately distract him from the sensation by gently sucking his nipple.

His eyes fling open in an instant, and he choking out moans. "Not at the same time!"

You ignore his pleads, and switch to the other side. He grabs the back of your head and grips onto it desperately. The feeling makes you wince, but you don't stop your movements.

Eventually when it gets too much for the cat, he forces you away from his chest. You glance at him, slightly peeved, but your eyes widen at the sight.

Tears are streaming down his face, and he's trembling. His ears are pressed flat upon his head, and drool slightly drips from the corner of his lips. He is shaking his head at you, slowly but full of emotions. "No more. No more. 's too much. Just fuck me already!"

You peer down at his chest to see both of the nubs swollen and throbbing. You have abused them for too long, and it almost made you feel bad. Your poor kitty didn't deserve this, but alas, his wet teary eyes made it worth it. You couldn’t help but bully him if he looked so cute.

But, you take pity on him, and grab the strap, lubing it up, along with his entrance. He bites back a whimper at the coolness, but you force it out when you press a kiss to his thighs.

You pull your fingers out and he lets out an obviously displeased noise, trying to follow the digits. "So needy," You coo, and he scoffs, rolling his eyes, but blushing.

Then you line the toy up to his hole, and his ear twitch. He gulps and stares at the silicon, trying to contain his excitement. You begin to press it in, and he sighs, closing his eyes.

Slowly, you bottom out, and the cat lets out a breathy moan. A finger travels up to his chest again, and he jumps when you drag it over again. "Not—Not again."

You lean forward, now completely above him, waiting for him to adjust to the length. You circle the bud and kiss his cheek when he whines out. "Cant' help myself. You're so cute, Kats."

"F-Fuck you! Stop teasing me," He warbles, his eyes hazy and lips wet from his own saliva.

You begin your movements and he clings onto you. His mouth flies open, exposing his pointed canines that you are so fond of. "Such a cute kitty with such an adorable, sensitive body. I'm so spoiled."

He shakes his head, tears dripping down his cheeks. "Just shut up, and fuck me!"

You giggle into his neck, and pinch one of his nipples. His whole body jerks and whines, loud and pathetic. He trembles under you and glares at you, which doesn't look threatening at all considering they are wet from tears. "Be nice Katsuki."

He doesn't say anything, afraid you'll pinch him again. Instead, he nods his head and wraps his legs around your hips, silently signaling he wants more and quickly.

You abide his wishes and quicken your pace, and he mewls out, latching his mouth onto your shoulder. You grin at him and kiss the side of his head, mumbling words of encouragement.

His grinds himself on the strap, and his eyes roll at the feeling of his throbbing cock rubbing against your stomach. Mixed with earlier teasing, he felt like he was already close to cumming. He grips onto you and begins to beg for you to go faster.

But much to his dismay, you don't listen to him. Instead, you purr in his ear, "Katsuki~"

He clenches his teeth at the thrust, but whines at your words. Something bad was coming, he could tell. "Hmm?"

"Touch yourself."

He doesn't hesitate to reach down and begin stroking himself off, but you catch his wrist with the first stroke. He gulps and glances at you hesitantly.

You stare at him, smiling softly. Then, you lean forward and press your lips to his ears. "Your nipples, silly."

Your pace hasn't slowed and he can barely process your words, but the way you drag his fingers back to his chest lets him know exactly what you want.

He shakes his head furiously, clinging onto you. "Nooooooooo. Fuck, they hurt!"

You balance yourself on you forearm above him, and use your other to thumb over one of the buds. He moans, slightly arching his back. "They won't. See? Gotta be gentle, love."

He looks up at you with a pout and teary eyes, but nods hesitantly. His hands travel down to his chest, and he uses both hands to trace circles on them. The blonde whimpers out, shutting his eyes to try to manage the strange mix of pain and pleasure.

You finally quicken your pace, and Bakugou groans, not knowing what to with his body. He feels the sticky feeling of pre cum leaking on his abdomen, but his hands are too busy to wipe it away.

"m gonna cum."

"Are you asking for permission?"

He wasn't, and the both of you knew that. "Y-Yeah."

You smile at him, pressing a kiss to his tear stained lips. "As long as you touch your nipples through it all."

He wants to protest, already feeling overstimulated from both of the intense pleasures, but he also wants to cum. So, he nods with a sniffle. You rub you fingers over his twitching ears, and he leans into the warmth.

The pressure begins to build up, and hes now gently flicking his nipples. Hes withering from his own ministrations, and the ruthless pace of your strap isn't helping at all. Every breath is a moan, or a whine, and he shivering. "Fuck. Fuck. Im cumming. I can't!"

"Go ahead, kitty."

His whole body contracts, and his eyes screw shut. It tears viciously through him, and he's crying out. Its loud, high in pitched, but cute.

His hands clench up on his nipples, so you lean down and press your mouth to one. His shaky hands find the back of your hand and he curses, back now arching completely off the sheets.

Cum leaks onto his stomach, and some onto yours. His tail goes pin straight, and his ears are pinned to his head.

His high lasts longer than usual, about thirty seconds, and by the end of it his clinging onto you desperately while you coo at him.

When he comes down from his orgasm, he is heaving, trying to catch his breath again. You gently pull out during this time and he lets out a small gasp, but other than that doesn't complain. He falls limp against the bed, his body sweaty and flushed.

You take off the strap and begin to wipe him down with a washcloth, humming softly in your work. You are careful to leave his nipples alone, knowing hell prob freak out if you even graze them now. They are puffy and red, and most likely throbbing.

"You with me Katsuki?" You say, glancing hesitantly at him, almost feeling bad about his chest.

"Yeah, I'm here, you brat."

You laugh gently, glad your cat is back to his usual antics. "Ironic," You tease, grinning at him.

He doesn't find it funny. "Hey fuck you. I listened well today! Even after you tried torturing me." The last part comes out as a mumble, pouting into his pillow.

Your eyes whole a sadistic glaze to them, and he gulps, wondering what you are going to say next. "If you think thats torture, oh kitty, what do you think we buy you some nipple clamps?"

He throws a pillow at you and hisses before you could finish your next thought.

[krirebr]

🧚🏻‍♀️✨Bippity boppity bow chicka wow oww! You’ve been visited by the Shameless Hoe Fairy, and now you must share a hoe drabble about:

Curtis + bound wrists + “Mmm such a jumpy little thing, you’re not used to being treated this way, are you?”

This took me forever, but between being sick at the beginning of the week and work kicking my ass at the end, it took a while to get to a point where I could string multiple sentences together. 😂😭 But we're finally here. I'm a little afraid this is only half a hoe thot, but it's already over 600 words and I kind of like ending it where I did. This is my contribution to the Curtis successfully takes the snowpiercer and deserves a reward trope. I hope you enjoy! Thank you for playing with me!!

Warnings: dark elements, bondage, forced public nudity, threats of and implied non-con, explicit language, 18+ - MINORS DNI

Your wrists were bound with rope in front of you as you were led into the meatpacking car, wearing what you’d been sleeping in, a short nightgown. You shivered, partly out of fear and partly because it was freezing in this part of the train, nothing like the warmth you’d always had in your private compartment near the front. A group of tail-enders flanked you. They’d barged into your room in the middle of the night. They’d overpowered you, tied up your hands, and then dragged you out. You weren’t sure how long you’d walked or what was happening. The whole train seemed to be in chaos.

One of the tail-enders pushed you to the car's center towards a large man wearing a dark overcoat and a wool beanie on his head. Animal carcasses hung all around him, in the process of being butchered. He had sharp blue eyes and an intense stare that he fixed on you, like you were the most prime cut of meat in there. You tried to hold your ground but the man pushing you forward was stronger than you were. 

The blue-eyed man reached above himself and pulled down a large hook on a chain suspended from the ceiling. The men on either side of you grabbed your bound hands, raising them above your head. You tried to flail away, scream for help, but it was no use. The rope around your wrists was placed on the hook, which was then raised until you were balancing on your tip toes. 

The large man, who was clearly in charge, stood right in front of you. “Hello, sweetheart,” he said, his voice deep and gritty. “My name is Curtis. This train is mine now.”

That could not possibly be. That wasn’t how things worked here. “What?? Where’s Wilford?!” you shouted.

He chuckled. “I killed him,” he said, plainly. 

You tried to recoil or thrash or something but suspended how you were, all you could really do was sort of sway.

“Life is about to change drastically for all you front-enders, but for you most of all.”

 “What? What are you talking about? Why me? I didn’t do anything!” you protested.

He nodded calmly. “Yes,” he said, “I’m sure that’s true. I’m sure you did a whole lot of nothing while my people suffered in ways you can’t imagine for seventeen years.”

You felt your eyes start to tear up. You couldn’t help it. You felt like you were still asleep. Maybe you were. Maybe this was just a nightmare. 

“What are you going to do to me?” you whimpered.

“I saw you, you know,“ he said, instead of answering your question. “I had to pass through the club car to get to the front. And there you were, dancing away like you didn’t have a care in the world. And I thought to myself, ‘That’s what I’ll deserve if I make it through this.’”

All you could do was look at him, confused.

“Oh honey,” he said, reaching out with one finger to brush away a tear that you hadn’t realized had fallen. “What am I going to do to you? Whatever I want. You’re my reward.”

In the moment it took you even to start to process what he’d said, he tore your nightgown away. He took one of your now bare breasts in his large hand and squeezed it cruelly, tweaking your nipple. You jolted at his touch, whining despite yourself. 

“Mmm, such a jumpy little thing, you’re not used to being treated this way, are you? That’s ok,” he said, with a sharklike grin that both terrified you and went straight to your core, “I’ll make sure you get used to it real fast.”

Tag lists are open

@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @roxyfan14-blog @darkserenity24

[goodnightmemes]

TIKTOK STARTERS PART 8

❛ I think we were a little too Shania Twain about the situation…As in ‘that don’t impress me much’, you know what I’m saying. ❜

❛ Sometimes if you just trust in the universe it will take you to the most unexpected places…LIKE THE I-95! ❜

❛ If you’re wondering what I’m doing here - me too. ❜

❛ If she’s your girl then why is she under my bridge answering my riddles? And you know that she not gonna get any of them right and that means I’m taking her. You’re losing your girl to me, the troll! ❜

❛ Thank god that thing doesn’t have emotions because it would be shitting itself. ❜

❛ I must ask you through my bitter tears though they fall upon the ground, do you think the floral pattern swim trunks or the solid color? ❜

❛ What if that would have happened to me? I’m so glad that happened to you! ❜

❛ The only arresting this guy will be doing is a restin’ on this soft soft bed. ❜

❛ If that makes me filled with misery well then call me Kathy Bates. ❜

❛ Poor guy doesn’t even have a co-host. ❜

❛ This is personal to me because…I lost my brother to podcasting. ❜

❛ That is so unrelated to what I just asked. ❜

❛ Have you ever wondered how many houses in your lifetime you’ve driven by that have people locked up in the basement? ❜

❛ Look what I got for my funeral! A ouija board! That way I can go to the funeral too. I don’t want to miss the party of the year. ❜

❛ You’re the orangest…crap nothing rhymes with orange.  ❜

❛ Life is a journey. Life is a highway, if you will, and I’m hydroplaning violently into the cement divider. ❜

❛ Ever since I started dressing like a mob wife babies have been waving at me a lot more. ❜

❛ Dude, we have so much in common. We both love shapes and chocolate milk. ❜

❛ You just saying that created so much paperwork for me. ❜

❛ That’s basically kidnapping. I mean, some would call it kidnapping. I would also call it kidnapping. ❜

❛ Don’t go around introducing yourself as a rogue criminal, cause now I have to call someone. ❜

❛ I don’t like who I become on Carnival cruises.  ❜

❛ I’m gonna wake up dead because I didn’t pay my dues to the wasps. ❜

❛ You’re going down Tom and Jerry style you fucking muppet. ❜

❛ I may not have a doctor but I have the palette of a little French boy. I’m gonna live forever. ❜

❛ You can’t light a candle when the Devil’s outside! ❜

❛ I don’t respect ghosts. Like what you mean you possessed a child? You could have possessed Patrick Mahomes and played his superbowl but you possessed a child with a peanut allergy?  ❜

❛ That’s why you’re not in heaven, cause you’re kind of a douchebag. ❜

❛ Oohh paranormal activity this, paranormal activity that - get a pair of bitches bro.❜

❛ We’ve only tripped about seven times. That’s barely any. ❜

❛ The Department of Hoes and Insecurity - it’s the thot patrol! ❜

❛ You remember when society peaked and we had Optimus Prime doing a monologue over Linkin Park? Nothing’s been the same ever since. ❜

❛ So the pettiness gods are having their way with me. ❜

❛ I believe in holding grudges. I’ll heal in hell. ❜

[ovaryacted]

💕Positivity prime time! Share five things you love about yourself, four things you're excited about, OR three people you care deeply about and why. Pass this along to someone whose posts make you smile💕

Thank you for the message! I’m gonna take this slot to talk about 3 other people I care about deeply and why!

@ozarkthedog - Ozzie bae, she quite literally messaged me at a point where I was frustrated with tumblr from my posts not appearing in the tags and was thinking of quitting altogether. I honestly think that had she not reached out to me, I wouldn’t be at the point I currently am with writing where I actually enjoy it. I trust her a lot to the point where I let her proofread my work, and believe me when I say I don’t do that often because I don’t like burdening people lmao. I value her opinion, her outlook, and her encouragement, and honest to god I’m thankful I’m able to have her in my corner to support me because it means the world to me. Ozzie hun if you’re reading this, please know that I care about you so much, and I’m glad to have met you. 🫶🩶

@zloshy - Liz bae, lmao she’s single handedly been the catalyst of my Logan Howlett/Wolverine brainrot. I wouldn’t be writing for him if she didn’t initially feed into the delusions after I watched the movie, and from us spamming each other with TikTok edits we love to sharing thots and headcanons of that man, I just love talking to her every day. She really reminds me of an orange cat that likes to bite you, but she does it out of love. She’s a big part of my day, she puts a smile on my face with every message she sends, and I don’t take our bond for granted. 🫂😘

@strang3lov3 - BUGA BOO. Okay I’ll be honest, I’ve always seen Bug as an individual that inspires me. I’ve binged through her work before I even became mutuals with her, and her contribution to the communities she’s in doesn’t go unnoticed even though I always believe she deserves more. Outside of her creativity, she’s so fucking smart and wise beyond her years, and she’s just unapologetically herself. She’s also been super supportive of me wanting to write more taboo and dark content, she may not know this but she’s opened my mind to things I wouldn’t initially be interested in. Not to mention I’ve recently gotten into watching Succession because of her and now I have Roman brainrot that she’s happily feeding, so I’m glad to be able to speak to her about this show. I value her so much, and I appreciate our bond both as creatives and individuals. 💜

[sebsxphia]

hi seb!! your newest joel miller convert is here to say whatever you do, don't think about riding joel's face and him calling you his "sweet, sweet sugar" from between your thighs

i have three holes and they're his

SLAMS FIST ON THE TABLE

because!!!!!! like i said here, joel would call you sugar and this is another prime, stunning and beautiful example of when he would!!!!!!!!!! he thinks you’re the sweetest tasting thing and sometimes even murmurs from in between your thighs, “i’d say you taste like sugar, but you taste far sweeter than that, darlin’.”

i too have three holes and they’re his <3

AH FUCK ME thank you so much for this incredible thot my dear anon!! 💌

[theonepunkasshole]

MERRY CRIMMUS *gives you a travel pillow that says, "thot-imous prime" on it and a mug that says "god tried to kill now you get to find out why"* - uranium anon

...this is seriously the best gift ever, thank you so much!

[ring-rong-rang-rung]

I posted 1,774 times in 2022

13 posts created (1%)

1,761 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@gamelpar

@korloniumcrystals

@decepti-thots

@fluffypuppy45

@voiidbots

I tagged 1,757 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#starscream - 236 posts

#megatron - 235 posts

#soundwave - 182 posts

#prowl - 179 posts

#rodimus - 160 posts

#optimus prime - 129 posts

#ratchet - 110 posts

#jazz - 107 posts

#drift - 104 posts

#wheeljack - 90 posts

Longest Tag: 125 characters

#today i discovered 'sleeping in the cold below' which also slaps but i have no idea how to even begin to insert it into a fic

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Every time a new chapter drops on this fic (Reforged by Heliopauseentertainments), my sibling, whose not reading it, loses his mind over the fact that we don’t yet have a for certain answer on the potential reincarnation plotline.

To be clear, it’s currently 93 chapters, and I think I found it when there were 16 chapters.

2 notes - Posted November 6, 2022

#4

making a playlist for my NaNoWriMo wip, and wondering if any of y’all have any song recommendations for Jazz, Prowl, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, and Ironhide

preferred vibes being sad, serious, and/or epic?

6 notes - Posted October 19, 2022

#3

Snippet from new WIP

Context: Prowl and Smokescreen the morning after the destruction of Praxus, feat. my OC Hipshot, Jazz’s predecessor as the head of the Autobot’s Special Operations

***

“Carrier-”

“Bluestreak is alive. We are going to Praxus to find him.” Prowl took Smokescreen’s hand. “Are you stable?”

“Enough.” 

“Good.”

They continued down the hall, towards the shuttle launch. Prowl opened an incoming comm from Hipshot.

::You didn’t hear this from me, but Spec Ops has two extra seats on their shuttle. Find Bumblebee. It’ll head straight for Enforcer HQ, or at least, the coordinates of where it used to be. If Smokescreen can’t handle it, Bee will stay with him.::

Prowl didn’t believe he’d ever found himself thanking Hipshot, but today was full of awful firsts. Hipshot brushed the thanks off easily.

::Just make sure if you see your ex to doubletap him through the spark, as a little gift to me.::

::Will do.::

13 notes - Posted July 15, 2022

#2

Ah, finally! Here’s my work for 2022′s @tf-bigbang. It’s been a wonderful time, and I was paired with the lovely @sxpaiscia, who provided me with three gorgeous illustrations. So sit back and please enjoy all the work we’ve put into this.

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: Transformers - All Media Types

Relationships: Skywarp/Thundercracker (ThunderWarp), Megatron/Starscream (MegaStar)

Characters: Starscream, Skywarp, Thundercracker, Megatron, Soundwave, The Constructicons, Flatline, Original Cybertronian Characters, Sparklings

Additional tags: Mild Child Endangerment, Listen one of the sparklings can float phase shift and teleport, everyone is doing the best that they can

Summary: Skywarp and Thundercracker were keeping secrets from  Starscream. Right up until those secrets raised the number in their  trine from three to five. Now, in the middle of the war, the three seekers are struggling to  keep the crew of the Nemesis from discovering the two sparklings. But it  won't be long before Megatron and Soundwave get suspicious about how  much "trine time" Starscream's been taking lately and try to discover  the cause. And when one of those sparklings develops Skywarp's outlier  abilities, it'll only be a matter of time before they're all discovered.

Work Status: Complete (3/3)

31 notes - Posted October 7, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Hasbro making a potentially bold choice in Transformers: Earthspark to have Megatron and Soundwave be divorced instead of Megatron and Optimus.

372 notes - Posted October 9, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[cybertronianbunny]

I posted 164 times in 2022

That's 164 more posts than 2021!

31 posts created (19%)

133 posts reblogged (81%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@optimaprime8

@decepti-thots

@petitelepus

@hysterical-random-things

@whosafraidofthedjd

I tagged 6 of my posts in 2022

#star wars - 3 posts

#recipe - 3 posts

#youtube - 1 post

#transformers - 1 post

#wolfdog - 1 post

#animals - 1 post

Longest Tag: 12 characters

#transformers

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Cute lil meeting for my oc vivace and minimus ambus done by @petitelepus thank you 😊

Minimus Ambus blinked in shock. He was currently out of his protective Ultra Magnus' armor and standing in front of the said armor as he was when Vivace had entered his habsuite. The young Autobot recruit blinked as he stared at the green Minibot and a blush rose to his cheeks.

"I- I knocked!" The young mech stuttered before turning around and averting his heterochromatic optics from the green little Autobot.

Minimus was absolutely devastated but before he could shout or cry out, Vivace left and made sure to lock the door behind him. Minimus blinked before getting into his armor...

A couple of hours went by and Vivace was trying to forget what he saw since it wasn't something he was supposed to see. He tried to forget, but even engex couldn't destroy the memory of the attractive little green Bot from his mind.

"Give me another." He said to Swerve who nodded and went to prepare his drink. Vivace waited patiently but suddenly a huge shadow covered him and he turned around to see Ultra Magnus himself looking down on him.

"Vivace, I'm in need of your assistance." The blue mech said and Vivace blinked before swallowing nervously and getting up from his stool.

"Yes, sir." He nodded and followed Ultra Magnus out of the bar, his drink completely forgotten. Finally, when they were alone, Magnus turned to address the mech.

"I want to talk with you about what happened before." He said and Vivace shook his helm, "Look, don't worry, I didn't tell anyone what I saw."

"That?" The Magnus blinked, "Many know about my true form so you don't need to worry about it."

Ah, now Vivace just felt plain stupid. No one told him these things! Fraggers!

"Th- Then what is this about?"

"I wanted to ask if you would be alright seeing me as Magnus and not just as Minimus?"

"Wait, wut?"

"I have grown fond of you and you just proved yourself to me by not telling others about my true form." Magnus nodded, "It would be an honor if you started to see me more as a romantic partner than your superior."

"Are you...?" Vivace blinked, "Asking me out?"

"Affirmative." Magnus averted his optics almost bashfully, "What is your reply?"

Vivace thought about it and smiled, "I would be honored to see more of you, sir." He nodded, "I find you as Magnus and the other one appealing."

"Minimus." Magnus said and Vivace blinked, "Excuse me?"

"My real name is Minimus Ambus. You may call me Minimus."

Somehow, Vivace grinned. The name was so ironic, but at the same time so appealing. "As you wish, Minimus."

1 note - Posted November 6, 2022

#4

Do a Star Wars match for me plz?

Obi-Wan kenobi for you wise helpful teaching patient

1 note - Posted August 2, 2022

#3

Another galaxys edge recipe

2 notes - Posted August 6, 2022

#2

3 new ocs to add to my growing tf list.

Echo - giant flying fox bat child of soundwave.

Sapphire- cybertronian human hybrid child of Kup

Behemoth- massive lotr style metallic elephant ( bayverse and mtmte)

All 3 are femmes message me if you wanna know more about all my ocs.

( edit: 4 more )

Mechs are:

Baphomet

Vivace

Freki

Geri

Tempest

Tempo

Oracle

Bones

Windhover

Astralflare

Pixie

Moonsong

Femmes:

Valkyrie

Mitros Prime

Vixien

Echo

Sapphire

Behemoth

Bjorn

Zephyr

2 notes - Posted September 12, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Please match me with a transformer and do a short fic about it

I match you with the royal trine.

Starscream at first when he meets you is standoffish but over time comes to work up to you. Thundercracker likes to carefully hold and cuddle you. Skywarp loves to sneak up on you at random popping in but when he realizes it startles you he apologies after getting yelled at by starscream. Your joining of the trine makes it a small loving flock of shared cuddles and grooming

3 notes - Posted July 6, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[createandchaos]

I posted 166 times in 2022

27 posts created (16%)

139 posts reblogged (84%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@gunupwallflower

@0ptiimus

@decepti-thots

@imperiuswrecked

@scarlet--wiccan

I tagged 166 of my posts in 2022

#reblog - 134 posts

#transformers - 86 posts

#art - 71 posts

#idw1 - 59 posts

#rodimus - 50 posts

#mtmte - 46 posts

#marvel - 43 posts

#hot rod - 42 posts

#marvel comics - 41 posts

#marvel 616 - 31 posts

Longest Tag: 134 characters

#the idea of someone robbing the little you have left of someokne and still having the audacity to act like they were doing you a favor

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Mihaela Drăgan as MCU Wanda Maximoff

.

I didn’t want to do any shading so here’s the drawing with just the flats 

59 notes - Posted February 10, 2022

#4

There is absolutely nothing in canon that suggests this, but I would not be surprised if what exactly happened to Nyon was not talked about, they lied about the events, or the Autobots straight up covered it up and Rodimus' file was so thoroughly edited to the point that no one knew where he actually came from or how old he is for a good while, something not helped that Rodimus is probably private about Nyon due to the circumstances.

Because let's be real, Nyon is a huuuge turning point in the war if we're not ignoring Autocracy. This is the story where it's revealed that Zeta and the Autobots were full of it and had been draining the citizens of Nyon of their energon, which according to Hot Rod, was also happening in other cities to fuel weapons of mass destruction. And the hint that these were likely other cities filled with people with anti-Autobot sentiment, making them the prime Decepticon recruits was a deliberate one. They wanted to reduce the number of potential recruits.

But that wasn't all that happened. Zeta dispatched Orion Pax and his team to go after Swindle and then later Hot Rod. It's during this that Orion learns the truth about this, Hot Rod not being kind nor gentle about the true government he was working for. There isn't enough time for the enforcers (consisting of Pax, Bumblebee, Prowl, Ironhide, and Hound) to properly procees this though because Zeta starts his attack, unleashing his Omega Destructors armed with the Vamparac Ribbons.

And we all know how this story goes and the damage wrought.

So why would the Autobots want to admit it was their fault? That they had been draining innocent people dry of their energon. The Autobots pretty much turned around and said no, the Decepticons are the bad guys. Hell, it's probably one of the most horrific things the Autobots did that can be credibly linked back to them. They have a survivor of its destruction among their ranks. The survivors who didn't join any faction left, becoming neutrals. There's definitely survivors among the Decepticons who are still rightfully bitter about what the Autobots did to their home. Maybe if directly confronted, Optimus would admit what happened was true.

But why would they? It's not like a majority are people who were fine under Functionism or even helped the system. It's not like the others are warborns fed Autobot propaganda since they were born.

107 notes - Posted July 12, 2022

#3

Pietro Django Maximoff | Quicksilver

Uncanny Avengers (2015-2017) #16

Art by Pepe Larraz, Color edit by me

You can use this as icons! Just reblog if you’re going to please. 

MCU/WANDAVISION STANS DNI

125 notes - Posted April 20, 2022

#2

I’M SCREAMING

147 notes - Posted June 19, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I just realized this, but we never found out what happened to Rodimus prior to getting enrolled in the Autobot Academy after the events of Autocracy.

Because I feel like a lot of people forget Hot Rod of "your government bleeds us dry and you wonder why we bomb you, why we fight to drive you out of our neighborhoods" Nyon was the leader of an insurgent group in the city actively fighting back against the Autobots. Like there's no way that the people who worked for Zeta allowed him to walk around so freely and without consequences. He was known and actively wanted by the Autobots, Zeta wouldn't have gotten away with sending Orion to die in Nyon if they didn't have a legitimate excuse to have them there.

"He's exactly the kind of recruit we don't want the Decepticons to have."

This wasn't just Zeta framing it to make Orion focused on arresting Hot Rod, he was legitimately worried and we as the readers know it isn't unfounded. Starscream has tried to recruit Hot Rod before, prior to the events of Autocracy.

In the aftermath, what was done when Optimus assumed leadership of the Autobots and did so with bringing someone in who was wanted, who was supposed to be made an example of?

214 notes - Posted July 29, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[gretagerwigsmuse]

sana!! so i famously do not read many fics for the other pilots; however, you not only piqued my interest when you teased this story the other day, but this was also HIGHLY recommended to me by alexa so i just HAD to read it and i’m so soooo glad that i did! i have so many thoughts (and thots) below, and just need to say that i really loved this, it was so clever and unique! 💕

Something about Rhett always had you timing it perfectly, feeling so in sync and so primed, and when he came, it was like your permission to. - oh that is very pretty 🤭

It straddled the line between soothing and demoralizing, and you couldn’t say you loved the contrast between the care in Rhett’s voice and the emptiness around you.  - 🥺 oh sweet girl! i can’t wait till she gets the whole package

When you’d first met him, you’d thought he was cute, in an Old Hollywood leading man kind of way, soft muscles and deep eyes. - because he is!! i love this description of bob and totally agree!

You winced at your reflection in the mirror, trying desperately to decide if you recognized Bob’s voice from countless drills or from your Favorites list. - love this!

“So, you’re disappointed it’s me,” he said, like he was clarifying, and you shook your head. - bobby! sweet boy!! (i really liked how you set this all up, i was impressed she came right out and said it instead of putting him off for another day!)

The expression on his face turned smug, and that was new, that was nothing you’d seen before and you were pretty much infatuated with it immediately. Objectively, Bob was the best. You knew it, everyone knew it. This was maybe the first time you’d seen him look like he knew it, and something like pride blossomed in your chest at the thought that it was because of you. - AHHHHHHHH cheeky bob! go on buddy, you deserve to be a little cocky

“Sweet girl?” he asked gently, but his eyes were so dark. “You like being that for me, don’t you? My sweet, sweet girl.” - ughhhhb it’s so GOOD!! and it’s also a fave of mine

“So damn jealous,” he repeated, “thinking how many orgasms I’ve missed. How many times you came when I asked, how those thighs would tremble as you fucked yourself thinking of taking me…fuck, honey, you’ve heard me cum, and I’ve never–” - jesusfuckingchrist oh my word i’m obsessed, i’m blushing, i’m in love

“I know, sweet girl,” he said, licking his lips, “but you have to earn my cock.” - AHHHHHHH EARN MY CO - 🫨🫨

“We do,” you said, swallowing quickly, not even trying to hide the way your thoughts were racing, “I really hope you have a condom, Floyd, because we really, really have to.” - oh god we all know it’s big like yes sir pls sir thank you sir 🫡

“You’ll fit me,” - oh fuck

“Feel so full,” you gasped, and Bob pushed into you again. “Damn right,” Bob muttered, his voice dark, “full of my dick, like you’re fucking meant to be. Gorgeous girl, bent over, taking my cock like you need it.” - being so serious rn, i just stared at my phone for a solid 30 seconds after reading this part wowwwww

His arms were warm around you, and when you exhaled, you watched the blond hairs on his forearms blow back and forth. “How’re you doing?” Bob asked softly, and you could weep. It was him, so familiar, so gentle, and so much better than any recording, any fantasy, anything. - she finally got what she wanted when the recording was over 🥺🥺 sweet girl! deserves the whole world!

do you wanna make somethin' of it (Robert "Bob" Floyd x fem!reader)

pairing: bob floyd x fem!reader (no y/n)

synopsis: turns out, our favorite WSO has a side hustle, as quinn's favorite cowboy.

word count: 10.4k

warnings: 18+ explicit content, minors DNI: audio porn, a truly unhinged amount of dirty talk, overuse of pet names, bob's raging size kink, overstimulation via vibrators (and otherwise), unprotected PiV sex, an unrealistic number of orgasms, some dumbification, as can be expected.

A/N: this is way late bc i had to make sure the people who reblogged the moodboard were legal, thanks everyone for the patience and support! esp thank you @hangmanssunnies for being so encouraging, @sometimesanalice for being a gem and betaing thank you @laracrofted for coming up with bob's (ahem) inspirational reveal, and thank you everyone else for letting me be feral. there were a couple people who reblogged the moodboard but I couldn't tag them, so for the record, if you ask to be tagged, pls do make sure you're taggable AND ALSO THAT YOU HAVE YOUR AGE IN YOUR BIO I AM NOT KIDDING. the title is from Jo Dee Messina's 90s country bop, "Do You Wanna Make Something Of It" -- okay enjoy!

You paused, halfway into your flight suit, looking down at your phone. 

It was probably a bad idea to open an audio erotica app forty minutes before you had to be in the debriefing room with the rest of the aviators in your unit. 

But. 

You were ovulating, your vibrator was charged, and you’d just gotten a notification that BullRiderRhett had posted a new audio.

Before you knew it, you were grabbing your headphones and folding your flight suit by the door, leaving your tank top and sports bra on, but shimmying out of your panties. You set an alarm on your phone, connected your headphones and opened the app. 

Quickie During the Rodeo

After my ride, I don’t have much time before they call up the winners…but you look so damn good in that sundress. We have to be quick, though. [M4F] [Short Audio] [Established Relationship] [In Public] [Strong Language] [Moaning] [SFX]

Yeah, you thought to yourself, that’d do. 

You slid into bed, pulling a muting blanket over the lower half of your body as you settled into your bed and clicked play. 

Immediately, the sounds of a rodeo pushed through your headphones. 

You heard the shuffle of hundreds of feet, a rowdy crowd cheering, and distant country music over a speaker. You could almost imagine the dusty air, the smell of fresh hay and sweat, and the clamor of barrel racing in another arena. 

There was a steady clanking of spurs as a pair of boots walked towards you. 

“There y’are,” a low voice said, the perfect combination of fond and gravelly. You heard a shuffle of fabric, and a soft inhale, like the cowboy was wrapping you in his arms. Your eyes fell closed so you could immerse yourself in the fantasy. 

“How’s my girl doin’?” he asked, his voice muffled like he had buried his head in your shoulder.

You never responded verbally to these things; it broke the illusion to speak to an empty room, but you liked that Rhett paused, as if waiting for your answer. 

“Ah, well, I always ride better when I know you’re in the stands, cheerin’ for me,” he said. He had such a fantastic voice, low and soft, with this drawl that was so unpretentious and alluring. His canvas jacket rustled like he was hugging you tighter. 

“Just let me hold you for a sec, yeah?” he asked, as the ambient sounds of the rodeo seeped back in. You found yourself just listening for the sound of Rhett’s breathing over it, a slow and steady rhythm that was deeply centering. 

You heard when his breath caught, followed by a shuffling sound and a choked gasp from the cowboy.  

“Whoa, whoa,” Rhett’s voice was warm with surprise and delight. “Cut that out, darlin’, we can’t, they’re gonna call me back–”

His voice broke off on a low moan that had you biting your lip. 

Why did guys in real life never moan? 

It was such a pretty sound, deep and masculine, and full of desire. It was one of your favorite things about Rhett. Your hand slipped under the blanket, rubbing over your pussy gently, getting yourself used to the pressure. 

“Darlin’,” Rhett’s voice had gotten deeper, like a warning. “Ya can’t tease me like that, ‘s not kind.”

Your hips shifted at that voice, and Rhett laughed, low. 

“Y’just can’t help yourself, can you, sweet girl?”

It was your favorite pet name he used, just the way he said it. You were obsessed with the gravel in his voice, the melodic twang coupled with a gentleness that belied all his ruggedness. It was like he was being quiet to make sure no one overheard him, like his words were for your ears only. 

His spurs clinked as the noise of the rodeo faded, as though he was leading you somewhere away from prying eyes. A second later, there was a gentle, wet sound, like he was kissing you. 

How would he taste, you wondered. Would his lips be soft? Or would they be chapped? Would he be ravenous, turned on from the adrenaline of the ride, or would he be slow, savoring your taste? 

You turned on your vibrator, on a low and warming setting. You traced it lightly over your pussy,  acclimatizing, as Rhett’s voice and the soft vibrations sent a heat under your skin. 

Rhett’s breathing was heavy, like being near you made him breathless.

“Shameless,” Rhett chided, amused and fond. “I know I can’t stop you, but I’m not about to let anyone see ya like this. You’re mine.” 

Your hips canted up into the vibrator, spurred on by the idea of being his. 

“Oh, you like that, huh, sweet girl?” Rhett practically purred, his voice like a caress, “You like being mine?”

Rhett’s words washing over you, and vibrator’s motions met less resistance as you felt yourself growing wet.

“What if I…” he asked, and you heard fabric shuffling, like he was reaching down and under your dress. “Fuck, darlin’, are you wet for me already?” 

You pressed your lips together to trap in a whimper. 

You knew it was formulaic, but that didn’t make you less turned on. In this fantasy, you were Rhett’s girlfriend, you were already wet for him, you were needy enough to risk being caught to have his dick inside of you. 

“Ya sure about this?” Rhett asked, and you could hear the intensity in his voice. Like he needed you too, just as desperately. “Yeah? Yeah, me too…fuck—yeah, feel me through my jeans. Feel how hard I am for you.”

You turned the vibrator up, imagining the rough texture of denim against your pussy. How hard Rhett would be, how good it would feel to rock up against the dirty fabric. Probably not the most hygienic, but he’d be so hot, even through his jeans, impossibly tempting.

“Go on, take me out,” Rhett directed, his voice a low whisper. 

He moaned in your ear as a belt buckle came undone, and your head fell back as you circled the vibrator over your clit. God, he sounded so good, he sounded unraveled. You imagined the weight of him in your hand, and you shifted your hips, wishing you could feel the heat of him. 

“Shit, okay. We hafta be quick,” Rhett panted. “I know, I know, turn around for me, darlin’. Brace yourself against the wall here…Christ, you look so good like this…ya ready for me?” 

You couldn’t help yourself; you slid a hand down your body, changing the angle of the vibrator so you could run a finger through your folds. 

Rhett held his breath, like it was too good, too much, and you waited.

Then came his strangled, relieved exhale, and you pushed a finger into yourself as you imagined him sliding into you. 

“That’s right, sweet girl,” Rhett praised, his voice breathless, awed. “Let me into that tight pussy, nice and easy...”

Your mouth fell open as you imagined him filling you. 

Would he be thick? Long? Maybe a slight curve to his cock? Cut or uncut? You licked your lips, your mind spinning with possibilities, your fingers a paltry imitation of the thing you wanted so badly. 

“Ah, that’s it, that’s it,” Rhett murmured, and you couldn’t help but add another finger. “Such a good girl, for me, aren’t ya?”

You wanted to be his good girl. 

Rhett was breathing hard, and the rhythm of it was perfect. You circled around your clit with the vibrator, and you were panting now too, your hips canting up as you fucked yourself on your fingers. You could imagine him driving into you, his hips thrusting his cock into you. It would be thick, you decided, broad and heavy. 

“Ah, you’re taking me so well,” Rhett grunted. “You were made to take this fat cock, weren’t you?” 

His breaths were coming faster, and you could hear him slamming his hips into yours. You could imagine his balls swinging, could imagine him driving into you to reach that spot your fingers just couldn’t brush against. 

“This pussy feels so good, darlin’,” Rhett whispered, “the way you’re clenchin’ around me…”

Your thighs fell farther apart as you tried to time your fingers’ thrusts to his cadence. He was grunting after each thrust, this beautiful soft sound of exertion and pleasure.

A faint cheer rose above the sounds of your panting; another event had concluded. 

“Shit, we hafta hurry, they’re gonna–” Rhett broke off, his hips snapping faster. “C’mere, let me play with that clit, let me feel you–fuck yeah, clench around me, just like that.” 

You turned the vibrator up, your fingers faltering inside of you at the increased vibration and his words. Rhett’s grunts were getting higher pitched, a delicate thread of need seeping into them and you were going to lose your mind; it was perfect. 

“Ah, such a good girl,” Rhett groaned. “God, I don’t deserve you, ya feel so good…are you close, darlin? Tell me you’re close, I need to feel you cumming on my cock, will ya do that for me?”

You were bucking into your hand, chasing a release that had come on so fast, so strong and you were so damn close, you just needed–

“There ya go,” Rhett breathed, his voice tight. “You feel–oh, sweet girl, don’t stop clenching me like that. Oh, you’re gonna make me cum with that tight pussy, fuck, are you gonna come with me, darlin’? Please come with me, please…”

You pumped your fingers in time with his pleas, Rhett’s voice growing hoarse as his hips sped up. You were so close, he sounded so good, you were almost there. 

“Feels so good…Ah, I’m coming, I’m there– ah, shit,” Rhett moaned, his voice choking, and you orgasmed along with him, collapsing back into the pillow. 

Your legs shook and you jerked the vibrator away from your sensitive clit, stroking gently over your pussy with your other hand and easing yourself down.Your body felt like it was humming and you turned the vibrator off, sated and pleasure drunk.  

Something about Rhett always had you timing it perfectly, feeling so in sync and so primed, and when he came, it was like your permission to. 

Rhett was groaning softly in your ear. 

“So beautiful, darlin’,” he whispered. “God, I’m so lucky, look at you…so damn beautiful…”

The audio would fade out in another few minutes and you fumbled for your phone to turn it off, and turn off the just-in-case alarm that you’d set. 

There was a bittersweet moment with audio erotica that didn’t exist in traditional porn– aftercare. Instead of just ending a scene, most creators seemed to enjoy winding down with their listeners, saying soft things, silly things, fond things. It straddled the line between soothing and demoralizing, and you couldn’t say you loved the contrast between the care in Rhett’s voice and the emptiness around you. 

An emptiness that was interrupted by a loud pounding on your door. 

“Hey, I can see your light under the door,” Bradley called from the hallway, “you better not still be asleep! If we’re late to Mav’s briefing you know he’s gonna have us doing laps around the tarmac.”

You stuck your tongue out at the ceiling on principle, grateful for the quiet of your vibrator and the distance between the door and your bed.

“Calm your tits, Rooster,” you yelled back, “I’m practically ready.”

“Damn better be,” you heard Bradley say, loud enough to be heard, soft enough to know he wasn’t actually pressed.

You gave yourself another ten seconds to revel in that perfect orgasm, and then swung your legs over the side of the bed. You cleaned yourself off quickly, dressed even quicker, and were out the door in no time. 

Some might even say, with a pep in your step. 

“Told you,” you muttered as you walked by Bradley’s row in the debriefing room, on time, and he huffed. 

You settled into your normal seat, waving good morning to Callie and lifting your chin at Mickey, who grinned back at you. Bob was in the seat next to yours, as you’d all agreed early on that WSOs had to stick together, and you bumped his shoulder with yours as you sat. 

The sweet man smiled, a hidden thing, and looked away quickly. 

Sometimes, you felt like you knew there was more to him than he let on. 

You’d seen him in action, seen him make split-second decisions that kept him and Phoenix in the air. You’d seen him crank out 200 pushups with Jake and Javy like it was nothing. But at the same time, he never seemed to hold your eye for longer than strictly necessary, seeming more comfortable to address the floor (unless someone pushed too hard, and he’d snap something so sassy it’d make you bite the inside of your mouth to keep from laughing). 

When you’d first met him, you’d thought he was cute, in an Old Hollywood leading man kind of way, soft muscles and deep eyes.

You’d wondered if maybe you made him nervous. You’d thought maybe there was interest in those ocean blue eyes, but time went on, and he remained sweet and polite and kind. He was the same to you as he was with everyone else, and you were led to the reality that he was just an incredibly decent person. 

Crushes came and went like water, especially in a group as gorgeous as the one you flew with, so you let him have his secrets. 

The lights clicked off as Maverick strode to the front of the room, already talking and clicking his way through some kind of demonstration. 

The hours in the room flew by.

By the time he finished, your head was spinning with a blur of parameters and calculations and mission expectations. You knew pilots felt the same way about your job as you did about theirs, but you were always grateful that at the end of briefings you only had to worry about systems and odds, not about flying a plane. As you were dismissed, everyone crowded to the center aisle, trying to get out and to the hangar as quickly as possible. Someone sneezed, or someone pushed someone; Harvard dropped his coffee.

It wasn’t full, and you were all in flight suits anyways, but you still startled when it fell, splashing over the row you were sitting in. Black coffee flew over seats and notebooks (thankfully no phones), and someone laughed as Harvard’s attempts to catch it just served to further empty the cup. Bob took the worst of it, on the end of your row.

"Ah, shit," Bob muttered, and you froze. 

It wasn't that Harvard's spilled coffee had ruined Bob's notes, and yours too. 

It wasn't that everyone in the briefing room was looking back at your row in surprise. 

It wasn't even that Bob had sworn, even though you'd never heard anything harsher than "gosh" from the WSO's lips. 

It was that that cuss, in that voice, in that same mumbled tone, had pushed you to orgasm four hours ago. 

“Alright, it’s just coffee,” Maverick called over the clamor. “We’re burning daylight, people, come on.” 

Harvard was apologizing profusely, someone was passing paper towels out, but you felt completely out of your body, in shock. 

Bob was BullRiderRhett.

The WSO who asked for ginger ale when everyone else did shots at the Hard Deck, who cleaned his glasses when he got nervous, who stayed up all night to help Payback’s kid put together a Lego Statue of Liberty last time he was in town …was the guy who had talked you through the last few months of orgasms. 

(Yes, you had an annual subscription).

(Yes, you deserved it). 

When you let yourself back into your room at the end of the night, it still felt surreal. 

In retrospect, you should’ve been a million times more dialed in– you’d had a $73 million machine under your hands, and the only thing on your mind all day had been this revelation.

How had you never noticed before?? 

Now that you were thinking of it, Bob did have that slight accent when he was tired, or when he was mad enough at something stupid Jake said…but what were you even supposed to do with this knowledge?

You moved through your skincare much the same way you’d moved through most of the day – on autopilot. 

A knock on your door startled you. 

“Now’s not the time, Bradshaw,” you called, automatically. 

“Uh,” called a too-familiar voice, “not Bradshaw.”

You winced at your reflection in the mirror, trying desperately to decide if you recognized Bob’s voice from countless drills or from your Favorites list. You crossed your arms across your chest, your sweatshirt dragging against the hem of your pajama shorts as you slouched over to the door. 

“Robert,” you announced, as you opened it, mentally smacking your palm against your forehead. You had literally never called him Robert; what was wrong with you??

Could’ve been worse, you mused. 

You could’ve said ‘Rhett’.

“Hey,” he said, and if he was thrown by the use of his full name, he didn’t show it. 

He looked the same. 

The same, but in the way that had made you catch your breath when you first met him, when you were relieved that he was so unassuming and kind, because if he’d been any kind of authoritative, it would’ve debilitated you. 

Tonight, he’d clearly showered after drills. 

His hair was freshly combed and still damp, darker than normal. A tendril fell in front of his glasses, leaving a small line of fog against the outer corner of one of the lenses. He was in a plain white tshirt and light sweatpants, and you made yourself stop from looking further because you were not about to objectify your friend just because you now knew that he could dirty talk with the best of them. 

And now you were thinking about that.

“Are you mad at me?” Bob asked, and it snapped you out of your spiral. 

He was frowning at the sill, his hands shoved in his pockets, and his chest tight. There was a purse in between his eyebrows, and you really could not understand him, because how could a man who was objectively gorgeous, subjectively sweet, be this adorable? He looked up and the moment your eyes met, you looked away. 

“No,” you said quickly, clearing your throat. “Of course not. Obviously.”

“I mean, not obviously,” Bob said, rubbing a sneaker against the carpet in the hallway. “You practically sprinted out of the briefing this morning, refused to speak to me over comms during drills, and you won’t look at me for more than two seconds, and that’s normally someone else’s line to me.”

It was a weak joke, but it was funny, and you could hear in his voice that he was trying to set you at ease, and that really only made you feel worse. 

So you stepped aside and held open the door, not really trusting yourself to say anything else. Bob looked nervous, and you wanted to tell him it was you, not him, but instead you waited in silence as he stepped into the room. 

You only had the light over the sink on, and the room was in soft shadows, but you thought it might be more weird if you turned on a light, like you were calling attention to it. You shut the door and Navy rooms didn’t really come with guest furniture, so you gestured to the foot of your bed, while you paced. 

“This is going to be awkward,” you warned him, glancing in his direction, and wishing you hadn’t. 

He was sitting on the foot of your bed, as directed, legs spread slightly and his elbows resting on his knees. You could see the muscles of his shoulders through the tshirt, and his eyes seemed especially bright, in the dim light from the room. 

“Okay,” Bob said easily, and you appreciated that he wasn’t rushing you. Maybe he was starting to understand that this was something you were working through, rather than something he had done.

You switched directions, walking the length of the room, and then the length again. 

You had to say it.

You’d just have to say it, and that would explain it, and then it would be out, and then you could figure out how to move forward. Bob was a problem solver, like you, and you were both smart enough to figure this out. You were also both adults. You could just say it. 

You stopped in front of him, and Bob sat up a little straighter, like he wanted to be sure he was being respectful to the weight of whatever you were saying. God, he was such a good person, why did you have to be such a creep. 

“Iknowaboutbullriderrhett,” you said in a rush, clasping your hands in front of you. The words seemed to echo around the room and you stared at Bob, waiting for him to react. 

He didn’t, not really.

He nodded, slowly, and you watched him process the day through the lens of your revelation. 

“So, you’re disappointed it’s me,” he said, like he was clarifying, and you shook your head.

“What?” you asked, confused, and Bob shrugged.

“Like if you were expecting a ranch hand from Wyoming, I get it, it’s weird that it’s just me.”

You blinked. “That…that’s beside the point; I feel guilty, like this is a weird invasion of privacy, and isn’t that what you should be asking, anyways, is if I’m going to tell anybody? I won’t, but–”

Bob shook his head, his expression still pretty guarded. “Whose opinion do you think matters to me more than yours?”

And how the hell were you supposed to respond to that?

“What?” you managed again. 

Bob looked at you.

It was maybe the longest uninterrupted eye contact you’d ever had, and you weren’t sure if it was because he initiated it, or if something was different. But it made you curious, it made you stop rambling, it made you be still, and let Bob look, because you liked how he was looking at you. 

He smiled, that familiar, bashful, expression, and it calmed you slightly. 

It wasn’t like there was a demon possessing your friend, it wasn’t a dark secret, it was just a part of him that he didn’t bring out at work. His smile reminded you that you knew him, that you trusted him. 

Then his head fell to the side, his eyebrows lowering behind his glasses, his expression turning inquisitive as he said, “You didn’t answer my question.”

It was still Bob. 

But his voice was lower, his voice was softer and you knew that voice, but seeing it fall from petal pink lips was a revelation and you shivered. You pulled the sleeves of your sweatshirt down over your palms, hoping you could disguise it, but Bob saw it anyway. 

Of course he did. 

He could calculate projectile trajectories while at supersonic speed; of course he could see when his voice made you shiver. The expression on his face turned smug, and that was new, that was nothing you’d seen before and you were pretty much infatuated with it immediately. 

Objectively, Bob was the best. 

You knew it, everyone knew it. This was maybe the first time you’d seen him look like he knew it, and something like pride blossomed in your chest at the thought that it was because of you. 

“I’m not disappointed,” you said honestly, and Bob smiled fully.

That was how he should always be, you decided, proud of himself, pleased by you. 

He pushed himself off the bed. 

He walked towards you slowly, slow enough that you could tell he was giving you time to back away, or tell him to stop, but you sure as shit weren’t going to do either. 

Instead, your head tilted back as he came to stop in front of you.

“We have two options,” he said, almost conversationally, like you weren’t this close to melting into a puddle at seeing this side of him. “One: I go back to my room; we’ve learned something new today, but we go on like normal. Or–”

“Or,” you chose, not waiting to hear what the second option was. “Whatever ‘or’ is, that’s the one I want.”

It truly didn’t matter; if the choice was him walking out the door or not, you wanted whatever made him stay. 

He huffed an exhale of a laugh, a soft sound that you’d heard a dozen times but it still made your breath catch. You’d grinned fondly when you heard it over comms, after Callie calmly roasted Jake, you’d shivered when you heard it in your headphones, but now that Bob was physically in front of you, you thought this was the best iteration of it. 

“What do you like?” he asked softly, and it felt like a loaded question. 

Like maybe he was asking which audios, or maybe the themes, or if him, in front of you, was enough. The room felt suspended, like someone had paused the film of your life and you could see everything outside of yourself. The heat in Bob’s eyes, the way his fingers, held loose at his side, twitched slightly, like he wanted to reach for you. The way your own breath caught, like you were careful not to break a spell, like you wanted it to never break. 

You kissed him. 

You probably could’ve been more graceful about it, but he was standing just there, and you needed to know, needed to feel him against you. You reached for his arms, your hands grasping above his elbows to pull him down and press yourself closer. 

He was so soft. 

The moment your lips brushed over him, you felt him bending, moving. His glasses bumped into your nose as he adjusted and then his hands were on your waist, spreading over your back and how had you never noticed how big his hands were? They felt huge, and his chest was strong and warm as he pulled you into him. 

You could smell his shampoo, something earthy and sweet, and it was intoxicating how pure it was. He didn’t feel pure. He felt hot, kissing you back with an urgency that stole your breath away. Bob kissed you with certainty, with earnestness, and you were obsessed.

You pulled back, staying in the cradle of his arms, needing to be this close when you answered the question he’d asked. Long lashes fluttered against the tops of his cheeks as you broke the kiss, and Bob pulled in a long breath through his nose. When he opened his eyes, the blue of them was so bright, cutting. You didn’t know how he held it all, his sharpness and softness, gentleness and intention. 

“Can I show you?” you asked. 

He blinked, the motion slow, as he looked between your eyes, trying to focus with you so close. You saw the corner of his mouth turn up in that bashful smile, and his arms around you tightened slightly.

“Show me,” he said, your question but now a command, and your mouth went dry. 

His voice sent a flush of heat over your skin, and whatever he wanted, you’d say yes, for this man who was your friend and your fantasy, and asking you so nicely. 

It amazed you how you didn’t feel nervous. 

This was arguably the most intimate situation you’d found yourself in in a hot minute, but instead of nerves or anxiety, you could only think of how much you wanted Bob to see how much he affected you. From that first moment you’d met him, to the crush you’d packed away, to the voice that haunted your dreams, you wanted him. And you wanted to see how that would affect him. 

You walked over to the sink, grabbing the vibrator from where you’d left it after you cleaned it this morning. Bob walked back over to the bed, taking up his original post at the foot of it, but his eyes never left you. He toed off his sneakers, and you slipped out of your pajama shorts, leaning over to arranging pillows against the headboard. 

You climbed into the bed and rested your back against the pillows, nudging Bob’s thigh with your toes before you bent your knees. He turned himself to face you, his long legs unfolding outside of yours. It was like he was being careful not to touch you, and you liked that this was how it was going to start– just his voice and your pleasure. You hoped once he saw what a tight string was tied between the two, maybe he’d get a little more involved. A part of you wished that you’d deepened the kiss earlier, but it was just as well to have the anticipation of it.  

It was ridiculous that you were already turned on. 

You’d had eight hours to come to terms with the fact that Bob was Rhett, but as he sat across from you, it was like his gaze was scorching you. His bright eyes ran over you hungrily, and you rolled your neck, enjoying being the object of his gaze. 

You’d been bold when you suggested it, but now the silence of the room seemed to stretch. You wondered if you should ask Bob to talk, or if that would be weird. Bob looked at you, his damp hair falling in front of his glasses again, and he brushed it aside absently. 

“Is this where you lay, when you listen to me?” he asked, his eyes tracing over the simple bed, the regulation bedding, the pillows you’d brought in to spruce it up. His voice was low, curious, and now that you were listening for it, you could hear the traces of a drawl, hanging on the edges of it.

You nodded, unable to look away from him, and his nose flared slightly at the confirmation.

“You’re so pretty,” he said, and it washed over you. It was such a simple compliment, but the truth of how he said it, like every fiber of his being meant it, warmed you. 

“God, thinking about you…” he trailed off, “just lying here, looking like this…getting off to my voice…do you touch yourself first? Pet that pussy before you use your toy?”

Your mouth actually fell open hearing Bob Floyd say ‘pussy’ so casually. 

And he said it sitting in your bed, his eyes on you, his voice dropping into a deep drawl and yeah, you were going to do whatever he asked. 

You shifted slightly, a hand falling between your thighs to press over your clothed cunt. You cupped yourself, loving the way Bob’s eyes followed your hand with rapt attention. The kiss, his words, his eyes…you weren’t wet yet, but you could feel your body warming, turning towards Bob. 

“Love that you take your time with your pussy, warm her up, slow. ‘s not a thing you have to rush, not when the building feels so good. And I bet you feel so good, don’t you, so soft and warm…”

It didn’t feel slow, not with how hot Bob’s voice was. How good it felt to have him in the room with you, not just an empty echoing in your ears but physically here. You continued to tease yourself over your panties and you felt when they grew damp, when your arousal slowed your fingers, made the fabric slick.

“Fuck,” Bob breathed, and you whimpered. 

The sound was involuntary, a reaction to seeing sweet, wholesome, Bob swearing over the sight of you. It made you feel regal, and if you had to guess, pulling sounds out of you made him feel the same. At the sound of your whimper, Bob’s eyes dropped to your mouth, and you watched the tip of his tongue push through his lips, as he wet them. 

“Ah, you sound so good, too, I can’t believe–” he broke off, laughing quietly. “Can’t believe I’m jealous of my own damn self. How many times have I made you cum, and I’ve never gotten to see it?”

It was your turn to laugh, not quite willing to reveal how much you listened to BullRiderRhett. 

“That many, huh?” Bob’s voice was smug, and it was such a good sound on him. You ground your wrist over your clit, pressing into the hard bone, craving the friction.

“Take your panties off,” he said, “touch yourself, not the vibrator yet.”

You followed his instruction, pulling up your legs to peel off your panties and resettling. You extended a leg down the bed, pressing inside of Bob’s long leg, as you trailed your hand between your thighs. At the first brush of skin against your sensitive folds, your head tipped back against the headboard. 

It was just your hand, but with Bob here, it felt like it was almost his. It was his bidding at least, and you explored yourself leisurely, dragging your fingers through your wetness.

“Yeah, that’s right, bet you feel so good,” Bob said, his voice so low. “Feel yourself, sweet girl, tell me how it feels.”

You gasped, your hips rising in a pavlovian response to the endearment. It was somehow even more overwhelming when it was Bob who spoke it over you, here, in the flesh. When he could see that your skin prickled, that your breath caught, in response to him. 

“Say it again,” you whispered, hoping he’d understand, and when you looked back at him, the expression on his face was one of adoration and hunger, awe and need. 

“Sweet girl?” he asked gently, but his eyes were so dark. “You like being that for me, don’t you? My sweet, sweet girl.”

You nodded weakly, your fingers suddenly not enough. You rubbed over your clit, trying to stop the truth from spilling out of you as heat fanned out through your body from your touch. 

“Yours,” you corrected weakly, and you scrambled for the vibrator and switched it on, using the intense humming of the toy as an excuse to hide from Bob’s reaction to your admission. 

You felt one of his hands wrap around your ankle, and his long thumb stroked from your heel up to the joint. It was the perfect touch, and just grounding enough to keep you from being overwhelmed by the vibrations. 

“You sound so pretty,” Bob murmured, “those little whimpers you make, fuck.”

Were you whimpering?

You felt like you noticed everything a bit too late, too loud. You realized you were pulling the vibrator over your cunt in a mimicry of the strumming motion Bob’s thumb was tracing on your ankle, and your hips canted up. Pleasure swirled in you, hot and tingling, but you felt something missing. 

“Bob,” you panted, god, how were you already panting, “I need–”

You turned the toy higher and broke off, writhing. 

“Darlin’, love you saying my name like this,” Bob drawled, and it was a proper drawl now, and how he said darlin’ made you feel like you might combust. “Can’t believe I get to see you like this, you look so good…knowing this isn’t your first time working yourself to my voice, makes me so damn jealous.”

You whined, pressing the vibrator more firmly against your skin, your hips starting to grind into it. 

“Tell me,” you asked, your voice reedy, and Bob huffed a laugh, like you didn’t even have to ask. He ran a hand over his thigh, coming to rest at the seat of his sweatpants and you bit your lip as he adjusted himself through the thin fabric. 

“So damn jealous,” he repeated, “thinking how many orgasms I’ve missed. How many times you came when I asked, how those thighs would tremble as you fucked yourself thinking of taking me…fuck, honey, you’ve heard me cum, and I’ve never–”

A moan pushed its way past your lips, as you realized that the groans and grunts and needy noises that you got off to weren’t incorporeal: they belonged to Bob. 

You looked down at the foot of the bed where Bob was watching you greedily. His eyes roamed over your spread legs, the twitches in your thighs, the slackness in your jaw, and you looked at him too. His pale skin was flushed, color in pink splotches high on his cheeks, and his lips were parted. His chest rose and fell as he drew in deep breaths, and when he shifted slightly, you moaned again. 

“Can you touch yourself?” you asked, almost shy, wanting to see him. You felt good, so insanely good, but the thing you’d always loved about the Rhett audios was how much pleasure it sounded like he was getting too. There was something so hot about knowing you were the root of someone else’s desire and pleasure, and you wanted so badly to be that for Bob. 

“You’re gonna have to wait just a little longer, sweet girl,” Bob said, but he ran a hand over the thigh of his sweatpants, adjusting himself again, and your hips bucked up of their own volition. You guessed he was wearing underwear under his sweatpants because you couldn’t see an outline, but the idea of his dick hanging that far down his thigh had your mouth watering. 

“Wanna see you,” you protested, hearing a sound like a pout in your voice and Bob’s hand on your ankle tightened. He looked at you hard, and you knew he was gambling, trying to decide if he wanted to play a card.

“I know, sweet girl,” he said, licking his lips, “but you have to earn my cock.”

Your eyes rolled back and your core clenched at those words. How many times had you heard Rhett tease you with that? But it was different now, because Bob was here. Because he was real, and his cock was real, and however many times you’d wondered about Rhett, your curiosity could be sated in Bob. 

When you lifted your head to look back at Bob, he was slackjawed, watching you writhe. You were practically humping the toy, chasing an orgasm that suddenly felt so much closer. The vibrator felt stronger than normal, or maybe you were more sensitive, but you felt your climax building, and your thighs started shaking. 

“I wanna see you,” you repeated, and it sounded pathetic, but it was true, you did. In a moment, this had switched from getting off in front of your friend to needing your friend’s dick, and you didn’t know how Bob knew it but he did. 

He readjusted his grip on your ankle and before you could react he pulled. 

You slid down the bed, your thighs parting around where he now kneeled; he braced himself over you, and you whined, needing his touch. He kissed you, his mouth wide and plundering, slanting his lips over yours. You moaned into his kiss, so different from the soft gentleness of your first embrace. This was Bob kissing you, and his tongue delved into your mouth and you opened for him. 

“I’m too greedy for that, sweet girl,” he whispered, his lips against yours. “I know if I get between these thighs I’m going to lose myself, and I want to see how much you want it. I wanna be here, fully here, the first time I get to see you cum.” 

He reached down, and you felt his hand trace over yours. You’d nearly dropped the vibrator when he pulled you down the bed, but now Bob tightened your grip, and guided it back to your cunt. You keened as the vibrator pushed between your folds, and Bob followed your lead, wanting to see how you fucked yourself for him. 

It was better with him. 

His strong hand bracketing yours, his other at the back of your neck, holding you steady. His hand was on yours but he brought his face close to yours again, and you drank in the reality that he was here, this close, holding you. His breath was hot against your skin, and his glasses were fogging up from how hard you were breathing. 

“So are you gonna let me see it, darlin’?” he asked against your skin, and that voice, coupled with his touch, nearly had you there. “You gonna come for me, let me see what it looks like when my sweet girl gets off with just my voice and the toy we’re using on her? You’re almost there, honey, I can see it, come for me come on now–”

He sounded so good. 

His voice was perfect and soothing and it felt like a dream but it wasn’t, it was real. He was holding you, feeling you, breathing the same air and working you. You’d never been so aware of your body and how it was tuned towards someone else. You cried out his name as you came, your back arching and your free hand fisting in Bob’s tshirt, reminding yourself he was there, he was there, he was there. 

You felt like you were floating. 

Pleasure coursed through your body and you could feel it pulsing in your fingertips, beating in your heart. You became slowly aware of the room around you. The air felt cold against your sweat-dampened skin, the hum of the refrigerator was the only noise other than your hard breathing. Bob was still over you, and he’d pulled the vibrator away from you, switching it off without really looking, running a soothing hand over your hip. The hand at the back of your neck was firm, holding you tightly so you could feel him. 

“How’re ya doing, sweet girl?” he asked softly, and you felt him press a kiss to your cheek. “Did that feel good?“

You hummed in agreement, words still beyond you. His voice was so gentle, but had a raspy edge, like he was thinking over the last several minutes, holding them in his mind.

“You did such a good job for me,” he murmured, and you turned into his touch.

He was like sunshine, wasn’t he? 

Just warm, and good, and you wanted to bask in him and his light like a dryad. His eyes darted away once he realized you were looking at him, and it made your heart skip a beat, that he could somehow be shy after coaxing you through one of the hottest orgasms of your life. 

You were trying to think of how to say “your turn” in a way that wasn’t corny or cringey, but what you came up with was, “Can we keep going?”

Bob’s eyes snapped back to yours, and the world seemed to pause for a moment, hovering. Waiting, hoping, and Bob’s chin dipped, just slightly, and all was right. 

“Baby,” he said, in the low, perfect, voice, “I’d like nothing more.”

When he kissed you, you were both smiling, somewhat giddy, and any nerves that had gathered during that pause dissipated, as you kissed his smile-thinned lips. 

You shifted slightly, pushing yourself back up the bed and pulling Bob with you. 

He moved easily, his long body spanning over yours, pressing you back into the mattress with the most delicious pressure. His hands were wandering, then, delicate fingers tracing over your sweatshirt, and when he lingered at the hem of it, you pushed him off. You didn’t want to be patient, didn’t want his chivalry, and so you pulled your sweatshirt over your head before you had time to second guess yourself. 

The way Bob looked at you, you wished you’d done it sooner. 

His tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip as he stared at your chest and you pushed yourself off the bed by your shoulders, so you could reach behind you and undo your bra. The moment the garment fell off, Bob’s hands were on you, his wide palms cupping your breasts. Your eyes fluttered shut at his touch, humming in the back of your throat as his fingers explored you. You felt the bed shift as he moved, and you gasped when a warm breath ghosted over your bared skin. 

Bob kissed down from your sternum, wet kisses over you, and by the time he reached your nipples, he was practically lapping at your skin. You whimpered as his mouth closed over your nipples, his tongue swirling over you as his hand teased your other breast. When he hummed, you felt it all over, the soft vibration over your skin. 

“Bob,” you gasped, and he moaned. 

“Ya sound so pretty,” he whispered into your skin, “somehow better than I imagined.” 

Your breath caught as his mouth moved to the valley between your breasts, and he laved the same attention to the other. He couldn’t have meant that how it sounded. As incomprehensible that this was happening, it was wilder still to think that he had imagined this, as you had. 

“You thought of me?” you asked, your own voice sounding nearly breathless. 

“Honey,” teeth grazed over your nipple, and Bob chuckled, that beautiful low laugh. “Who do you think I’m talkin’ to when I make those audios?”

His lips closed over you again, but the swirling of his tongue wasn’t enough to distract from the words he’d just uttered. 

He wasn’t done, either. 

“Y’know how many nights I’d wondered about the taste of your skin,” he murmured into it, “or what your tits would feel like in my hands? What sounds you’d make when I kissed you, how soft you’d be, everywhere? If you’d cry, or moan, or laugh when you came, or how you’d say my name…” 

Your hand wound back into his hair and you pulled him back up to your mouth. This kiss was desperate, so much unsaid between the both of you. So much longing, so much wondering and now it was here. You couldn’t explore each other fast enough, and you were clawing at his clothing, trying to feel as much of his skin as possible. Bob was just as eager as you were, pulling off of you to shuck off his tshirt and sweatpants, and you reached for his glasses. 

He blinked at you slowly as you pulled them off of him.

This sweet man. 

He was so focused on you, his eyes so intent even as he struggled to focus, and you couldn’t believe how lucky you were. You leaned over to place them carefully on your nightstand, and when you came back to the bed, Bob’s arms settled around you in the most comforting embrace. 

You loved the feeling of his skin. 

He was so soft, pale skin covering deceptively strong muscles, and you were obsessed with the dichotomy. Your hands greedily traversed over his broad shoulders, thick biceps, taut stomach, and when you got to the hem of his boxers, you felt his breath catch as he shifted over you. 

Fuck. 

You’d thought it might’ve been a trick of the light, or a trick of sweatpants, some kind of trick, but under your hand, Bob felt hung. Your fingers rubbed over the bulge in his boxers, and Bob’s head dropped to your shoulders. 

“We don’t have to–” he started, and broke off when your touch reached the end of him. You were just tracing the shape of him, but your breath caught when you felt his fat head, the cleft at his tip, even through the thin fabric. 

“We do,” you said, swallowing quickly, not even trying to hide the way your thoughts were racing, “I really hope you have a condom, Floyd, because we really, really have to.”

He huffed, and then he pressed a kiss to your shoulder, pushing himself off you and reaching down to feel around the ground for his sweatpants. You loved that he had a condom on him – not because it meant that he was expecting this, but because it just confirmed for you that Bob was the type to look at birth control as shared responsibility, not just a matter of whether a gal took the pill or felt like risking going without. He fumbled for a moment, and you couldn’t help yourself. 

While he was distracted (admittedly, this was probably a task you could have thought of while he still had his glasses on) you leaned over and traced your tongue over his collarbone. He smelled so good, and you could just taste the salt of his sweat. Bob’s breath grew ragged, and you loved the sound of it, kissing up his neck and finding that tempting spot where you could feel his pulse. You loved how frantic it was, loved the steadiness of him. 

He found the condom.

You shifted back to your elbow, watching with blatant interest as he shoved his boxers down his thighs, tore the wrapper open and rolled the condom onto his dick. 

Holy. Shit. 

He looked like a work of art. 

A beautiful flush had worked its way across his chest and throat, the tendons on his arms and hands stood out in stark contrast, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his cock. He really was that big. 

“What is it?” he asked quietly, and your eyes darted back up to his face to find his brows furrowing slightly, since he couldn’t read your silence or your expression.

You pushed yourself up to kneeling on the edge of the bed, Bob still standing beside it, and reached for him. He stepped into your embrace easily, mollified by the shared warmth between your bodies, as you reassured him with soft kisses wherever you could reach.

“I thought it was a line,” you admitted, somewhat embarrassed at how wantonly you’d just been staring at him. “Just a cliche ‘oh, you want to choke on this big dick’, but…but you’re actually, you know…”

Bob smiled, somehow bashful, as you pitched your voice lower in an approximation of Rhett’s drawl. 

“Is that an offer?” he asked, and oh you liked this side of him– teasing, relaxed, a little cocky. 

And the thought of choking on him…it was a really great fantasy. He’d hurt your jaw something fierce, but you wanted to see if you could draw those breathy whimpers out of him. Figure out what your tongue could do to him, see how much he could take, push him a little further, and make him cum down your throat. 

“Honestly,” you said, and yeah, your throat was dry just from the thought of it, “I really want to try that, sometime.”

At your tone or your words, you couldn’t be sure, Bob’s hips pushed forward slightly. With the height difference of you kneeling and him standing, his cock brushed against your ribs. You were both suddenly so aware of him, his thick cock resting between you, and Bob’s hips pushed forward again. 

“You’re so soft,” he murmured, and his hips slid back, slowly. His hands were on your waist, holding you still as he ground against you. Your mouth fell open at the heavy motion, the promise of it, and the duration of it. 

“You’re so big,” you whispered, another truth that should’ve sounded like a cliche, but instead was just a fact. 

“You’ll fit me,” Bob said, with such confidence and certainty that suddenly you didn’t care if it was in your mouth or between your legs, you needed him in you. 

“Please,” you asked, and Bob groaned, actually groaned, like you asking was the best thing he’d ever heard. His hands were so tight on your waist, like he needed that control and you knew how you wanted him. 

You leaned up to press a quick kiss to his lips, and then turned back to the bed, your hand sliding up towards the headboard, your ass lifting like an invitation. Bob wasted no time, climbing back over the bed and shifting you so you were lengthwise on the bed again, and then draping his long body over yours. Your head rolled between your shoulders; he felt so good. Warm and strong, and all around you, and then you felt his big hand between your thighs. He opened your thighs gently, and then a thick finger traced between them. 

“So wet,” he murmured, so close to your ear, and you shivered. “You’re gonna feel so good around me, aren’t you?”

You nodded, words failing you in your anticipation. But Bob wasn’t in a rush. His calloused finger teased through your folds, smearing the remnants of your orgasm up over your clit, playing with your cunt, until you were shaking. 

You whimpered, your arms trembling as you braced yourself on the bed. You pushed your hips back into his touch, and you felt Bob’s breath shutter from his chest pressed to your back, but he didn’t move any faster. 

“Don’t rush me, honey,” Bob said, his voice low, and you tried to hold still, you did, but his teasing was too much. 

He alternated between spreading your folds, circling your clit, dipping his finger into you just enough to tease you, then pulling back entirely. You felt like you were aching, desperate for him, needing him. Bob spread you open with one hand, and you felt his thick head at your entrance, seeking. You saw the hand that wasn’t playing with your clit drop down to the bed beside yours as he braced himself, and you pushed your hips back, weakly. 

“Ask me nicely, sweet girl,” he said, his voice so low, and you swear you nearly came on the spot. 

“Please,” you managed, your voice sounding entirely too weak, “please, please, I need to feel you–”

You broke off when he pushed into you. 

A steady, overwhelming pressure as that beautiful, enormous cock pushed into you. Your back arched and you gripped the sheets as he stretched you out, the gentle, even pressure nearly blinding. He was so thick, you felt like you could feel his heartbeat, like you’d been lit on fire, and the only thing you knew you needed was more, more. 

Your head dropped to the sheets, even as your hips worked weakly back into his, welcoming him despite the burn. 

Bob’s hand covered yours, his thick fingers tangling with yours on the bedsheets, and you felt cherished, you felt wrecked, you felt perfect. 

Fuck, he felt so good. 

You were full to the point of overwhelmed, and you realized he’d stopped pushing, was fully seated inside you. You felt so connected, so whole, even though you were heaving like you’d run a marathon. 

Bob‘s nose traced your cheek, his soft lips kissed your jaw as his breath tickled your ear. “Does that feel good, darlin?” he asked. 

You nodded, wordless, it felt like a dream come true. You felt every inch of him in you, every inch of him over you, and it was perfect.  

“So,” Bob whispered, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear, “what do you say?”

“Thank you,” you moaned, you’d never been so grateful for anything in your life. “Feels so good, fuck, thank you–”

Bob groaned, and his hips pulled back before he slammed back into you. His thrust would’ve pushed you up the bed, except for his body over yours, holding you steady.  

“Sweet girl, it’s like you don’t want this to last long,” he said, almost angry, and the sound of his voice had your eyes rolling back in your head. He sounded so good, he felt so good, he was so perfect, you were so full… “Like you’re trying to drive me mad with this tight cunt, with those sweet little whimpers, you feel so good, baby.”

You couldn’t do anything. 

You were a molten mess of heat and driving need, your body aching and craving and sated by the thick cock pressing inside of you. Bob was thrusting so deep into you, his fat cock head prodding against a spot you distantly registered wasn’t made up, but might’ve been, for how perfectly he was hitting it. You weren’t aware if you were making sounds or just lying there, all you knew was how fucking good he felt in you, how you needed him to never stop. 

“Feel so full,” you gasped, and Bob pushed into you again.  

“Damn right,” Bob muttered, his voice dark, “full of my dick, like you’re fucking meant to be. Gorgeous girl, bent over, taking my cock like you need it.”

You whimpered, clenching around him. “I do, I do,” you babbled, “need you.”

Bob moaned, and it might’ve been the prettiest sound you’d ever heard. How was he real? How could he be this good, this kind, this fucking hot??

The sounds in the room were dizzying. 

Bob’s hips slapping into your ass, the squelching sounds where you were joined, your gasps and his breathy grunts. It was perfect, and you felt the heat around you condensing in your core. 

He knew, somehow. 

The fingers that had been spreading you for his cock, moved to the top of your cunt, teasing over your clit. Your legs jerked, your mouth dropping open as Bob circled your clit, his fingers tracing over it, gently pinching it and coaxing you higher. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you panted, heat and need rising. 

“Christ, please,” Bob said, his voice so earnest, so dear, as you pushed back into him. “Let me feel it, sweet girl, let me feel this pussy I’ve been dreaming about. Want to feel you milking my cock, so damn good, you can do it, come on…” 

He pumped into you once, twice, and you shattered. Your legs gave out, shaking, and then Bob’s hands were on your waist again, holding you up. You moaned his name, trembling and lost, and he held you, ever steady. He kept working into you, his thick cock pressing into you, like he was the only thing tethering you to this pane, and you felt drunk off of him. 

“There it was, that was beautiful…fuck, you’re so hot, that feels so damn good. You sounded so gorgeous, sweet girl, you did so well…”

You moaned as his words coaxed you back. 

He was still pumping into you, that steady, punishing pace and you were so sensitive but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. He felt so strong, so hot, so close to you and you needed it. Needed him. His thick arms cording around you, his strong grip digging into your hips, his fat cock stuffing you, you never wanted it to stop. 

“You’re so good,” you whispered, needing him to know. Not just how he felt, or how he sounded, but who he was. How he was, and how much he meant. 

Bob’s hips stuttered.

You were aching, you were spent, but you tightened your core and clenched around him. 

“Baby,” he groaned, “I’m close you can’t–”

You rolled your hips. 

Bob grunted, and then he was moving, faster than lightning. He swept your hands out, pushing you down by your shoulders into the mattress, his body draping over yours. You turned your head to the side, and like he knew, he was there, kissing you. 

It was sloppy, it was messy, but your lips and tongue tangled together, like you both needed the sweetness of a kiss to balance the savage way Bob’s hips were fucking into you. 

Each press of his hips ground your pussy into the mattress and the pressure was so fucking unreal. You moaned into him, and Bob seemed drunk off the sound, off of you. You were so overstimulated, so out of your body that pleasure was the only thing that made sense. Only the way his hips rubbed your clit into the mattress, only the way his cock was stroking into the deep part of you, only the way he was panting against your lips. 

“You’re everything,” Bob whispered, just a breath away. “So much better, so much – fuck, you feel too good. Will you come for me again, sweet girl? I want to feel it so bad, need another one from you, can you do that for me?”

You shook your head, wrung out, but you felt it building anyways. Fuck, how was that possible? But Bob’s thrusts, the pressure on your clit, the weight of his warm body, the need in his eyes, it was driving you higher. 

And then. 

And then he got close. 

He broke off from the kiss, his thrusts growing almost frantic. Each breath he drew ended on a gasp, a soft whine that reached deep into your gut and set off something primal. He was fucking into you but he was whimpering, and you knew he needed it, needed you, like he said. He moaned, a needy, beautiful sound, and before you could feel his orgasm, yours broke over you. 

You collapsed into the mattress, Bob covering you, and you distantly heard him getting louder as your thighs shook. He sounded so pretty, those sweet moans and the desperate gasps driving you mad. The world was just molten heat, desperate thrusts, echoes of whimpers and you faded into the vacuity of it. 

When you came back, you were on your side. 

You were drenched in sweat, you both were, and a sheet was covering you from the cool room. Bob had taken off the condom, you noticed absently, and had pulled your sheet up over both of you, tucking you into his chest. His arms were warm around you, and when you exhaled, you watched the blond hairs on his forearms blow back and forth.  

“How’re you doing?” Bob asked softly, and you could weep. It was him, so familiar, so gentle, and so much better than any recording, any fantasy, anything. Your arm swung halfheartedly in his direction. 

“You jerk,” you sighed, “you’ve ruined my subscription.” Bob chuckled, the bed shaking with his deep laugh. “Think you can content yourself with the real thing?”

You shifted, turning to face him. In the dim light of the room, he somehow still managed to look like an angel. His soft eyes were unfocused, his mussed hair was snarled from your fingers, and he was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. 

You leaned over to kiss him, Bob’s lips already thinning on a smile. “I think I can manage,” you said.

//

tagging: @withahappyrefrain @cheekymcgrath @mxgyver @lewmagoo @sebsxphia @callsign-fangirl @callsignspark @sometimesanalice @daggerspare-standingby @rhettabbotts @teacupsandtopgun @attapullman @yuckosworld @skteaiy @yanna-banana @briseisgone @gigisimsonmars @milesmillergf @katiedid-3 @hangmandruigandmav @3tabbiesandalab @marchingicenotes7 @callsignmedusa @ryebecca @tgmavericklover @cottagecori @becks-things @sorchathered @mulletmcghee @straightforwardly @high-speed-r @rcmupout @purelyfiction @fairyheart @sunsetsimpsblog @angelbabyyy99 @cremebruleequeen @marvel-djarin @sgt-barnesveins @supernaturaldawning @echo-ethe @sunlitide @alilstressyandlotdepressy @hughesvolpe @aczhang777 @saltsicklover

chances are high i'll do a part 2/followup with both of them recording an 'overheard' audio...let me know! comments and reblogs are the surest way to make that happen 💙

[s-udarshana]

🎵 - Theme music

Main Verse: Inon Zur - Fenris Theme

Wild, pure, and yet, far from forever free. The indomitable supplicant to a silent god of cacophonous obliteration. By alms of virtue, and devotion towards all that come before, he serves. Loyalty before survival.

WoL Verse: Pillars of Eternity: The White March OST - Stalwart Village

Servant of the Twelve, Blessed of Hydaelyn, and fated to suffer. The undying flesh that abuses the presence of his enemy for the sake of his creed. By unfortunate fate, and shackles of a second soul that refuses to let him earn his final rest, he serves. Survival before loyalty.

((thank you @nurakitten!))

Music of the Muse - Symbol for a Song

[ut-girl666]

Okay, I legitimately just thought of this, and I need to say it;

For the record, I’m not a MegaOp shipper in most continuities (totally fine with people who do! I get it; 100% ship that shit in TFA- it’s like a drug. And even so - so long as you’re not being toxic, just have fun, man! :D.), I view them more as siblings; just always felt nicer than ‘tragic star crossed lovers who fell out into war because of ancient god relic choosing op’, y’feel me?

And I also typically head canon these two, while not gay, still on the LGBTQ+ spectrums.

Optimus - Panromantic/Heterosexual; Demi over all. (Takes a little while of properly knowing and being friends with someone before he’ll have any traction towards them.)

Megatron - Repulsed!Aromantic Asexual (He’s okay with some PDA, just don’t straight up start making out in front of him. He’ll get annoyed, throw a box of condoms at you, and tell you to get a room. And he definitely does not like the thought of being a relationship like that himself. Totally fine with others, though. Good for his friends, doing things that make them happy. :).)

Then the council, being about as old as goddamn A3’s balls, are a bunch of raging homophobes.

These two discover this, and start to purposely start ‘fighting’ (purely just fucking around/doing fuck all) in front of them, blatantly making it as gay as possible, just to piss them off. Pretty much they turn it into ‘homoerotic rock ‘em sock ‘em’ (phrase coined and made by the genius @decepti-thots in one of their Earthspark posts; thank you, you are a true gift from the heavens. *plants a kiss on your forehead like that eagle in gravity falls*).

Of course, this is very obvious that they’re just playing to be chaotic gremlin little shitheads with these boomers, because from the start they have wide grins on their faces, and are giggling the whole time.

Then of course it ends with these two grown ass adult men wheezing on the ground with laughter, stomachs hurt they’re laughing so hard, repeatedly falling back into laughter with every recovery, because these councilors just keep dropping like flies onto their fainting couches they’re clutching their pearls so hard.

Forget anything else ever. This is their new favorite form of entertainment.

Okay, I will go now. uwu.

[drugvacation]

homelander is the type to lazer someone for vaping in his personal space

he smells that awful fake candy chemical cancer and his eyes glow red instantly

[madangel19]

Thank you so much for tagging me @ir0n-angel !

I made my girl, Terra. I’ve been neglecting her ever since I got into Ghost lol. She needs more lovin from Starscream which she will get at some point ;3

Gonna tag @namelessbutters-doodles​ @snoopyscorpio​ @optimus-prime-is-a-thot​ @brytnoter​ and anyone else who has amazing OC’s who’d like to give this picrew a try

Tagged by @anneapocalypse​ to use this picrew to make my OC(s). I chose my poor tired gal from DA:I, Eve Trevelyan. (She looks a bit too young here, but eh.)

Tagging @crackinglamb​ @madangel19​ @steamcaptain​ and anyone else who’d like to do one. Can be any fandom. No pressure.

[heliopauseentertainments]

Ooh. Request: the awkward Prowl and Springer “you’re my dad” reunion, lol.

Oh boy. I don't know if I hit all of the points I wanted to hit, but it was fun to write. I'm also tagging @decepti-thots because if I remember correctly, you wanted to see something in this vein too.

Also I disregarded the Wreckers Saga timeline a teeny, tiny bit. Just a teensy bit.

I'll crosspost this shortly.

Title: Family Ties Continuity: IDW1 Rating: General Relationship: Springer & Prowl, implied Tarantulas/Prowl Characters: Springer, Prowl Summary: In which Springer visits Prowl in the medical center. Warnings: I don't know how to warn for the horrors/discomfort of being related to people, but here we are. Crossposting: In a reblog

Fic under cut

Springer stood at the foot of the medical slab, for once finding himself unable to look someone in the optic. Prowl lay there, silently blinking at him with his one remaining optic while recovering from the injuries he’d received fighting Infinitus, the load bearing minibot that had masqueraded as Sentinel Prime, on Luna 1. None of those words were things he ever expected to consider in that order. Luna 1 had long disappeared before he was constructed and the rest was just nonsense.

Visiting Prowl in the medical center in the first place was not something he would have considered doing under normal circumstances, not unless it was related to a mission. Prowl’s health was his own problem as long as he was otherwise functional and able to do what needed to be done. Besides, it wasn’t as though Prowl had been terribly injured. It wasn’t an emergency.

Or at least, that’s what Springer used to think. And here he was, having dragged himself here to Iacon from Alaska, with Verity patiently—relatively—waiting for him out in the hallway.

Machines beeped softly but regularly, an audible sign of Prowl’s physical health. Cables attached to the machines hung like vines between where the commander reclined on the slab.

But Springer also used to think that he himself was Warborn, an MTO, made specifically to assist in the fight against Decepticon forces. That was what Kup had always told him. Kup…. Impactor…. They had been his mentors, taught him everything he ever needed to know.

His experience as an “MTO” had been different, however. He hadn’t woken up, pushed out of a vehicle into battle with a gun in his hand. Springer had onlined twice. Neither time in the heat of battle. He always thought the first time had been a preconscious dream of a sub-powered spark, blurry shapes and confusing voices with words he didn’t yet understand.

Ostaros.

That was the only sound sequence he remembered. It meant nothing. Meaningless noise. Meaningless until that… monstrosity… Tarantulas called him by that same designation. It wasn’t nonsense. It was his name.

The sound of Tarantulas’ voice calling him that half-forgotten name sent chills up his spinal struts every time he recalled it.

The second time had been to full vision and audio, Kup’s voice greeting him. Another voice off to the side, unseen, thanking Kup for “taking over the training of this new-build” before disappearing before Springer could even turn his head to see who the voice belonged to. He only later learned that had been Prowl. He’d been told that Prowl had simply brought him from the cold construction facility to Kup, the deliverymech.

Now… now Springer knew better. “Deliverymech” was quite the understatement for what Verity had called Prowl’s role, a role that meant nothing to any other Cybertronian to ever function: father.

What was Springer supposed to do with that?

He stared at Prowl as though with new optics. In a way that was entirely foreign to his species, to his understanding of their place in the universe, he was boundto Prowl. A horrible, unbreakable attachment that Springer had gotten no say in. For all of the awful things that Prowl had done, for all his repulsive personality, Springer would not exist without him. Even if he never spoke to or saw Prowl again, that fact would remain. As would his same dreadful link to Tarantulas… to Mesothulas.

It hurt, like a knife twisting in his spark. Through circumstances beyond his control, he was inextricably tied to two other mechs, two of the most repugnant mechs he had ever met. Nothing he could do would ever change that. The futility burned.

Worse was that Mesothulas had, despite all of his atrocities, loved him. Wantedhim. Made him to care for him and watch over him. Prowl took that away. He took all of that away. Springer didn’t know if being cared for by a mad scientist with an unreliable moral compass would have been better, but the opportunity to know that was long gone.

Then he realized he had been staring silently for a number of minutes, as had Prowl. Maybe they had some things in common. His hands, the joints now aching, had been clenched into fists this entire time.

“Of course, you weren’t going to tell me anything,” Springer started, finally breaking the thick silence, “were you?”

“It was need-to-know information and you didn’t need to know.” Prowl tried to sit up, only to be hindered by too-short diagnostic and power cables plugged into his arms and torso. With a huff, he flopped back down, squinting up at the ceiling. “You wouldn’t have wanted me around anyway. What difference would it have made?”

Probably little to none.

“All the difference in the world,” he lied. A weak lie, of course. Springer had always been terrible at lying and Prowl, a king among liars, would immediately see right through it.

Springer walked around the medical slab and sat down on the utilitarian chair provided for visitors. Never minding that Prowl was probably right, that Springer wouldn’t have wanted Prowl around, he would have wanted to know, even if he had remained with Kup.

“Prowl, I need you to tell me what happened to Mesothulas. Before he became—“ He couldn’t bring himself to say it. Yet he finally looked directly in his… creator’s one remaining optic. “What did you do to him, Prowl?”