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[blu-writes]

no bc why would a loki friends to lovers be so good?? 😭 ✋✋✋

can i request loki trope best friends to lovers with female avenger!reader from love is in the air? i have a whole plot and i am so sorry in advance so here we go:

reader is lokis best friend and they became friends bc she was the only avenger who was nice to him when he first came to the compound and they got really close. he still gets bad nightmares and when he does, he goes to readers room and she just accepts him and holds him while he cries until the nightmares are over!! (she’s so book boyfriend coded i literally can’t) and then this happens a lot but is only mentioned like a few times in the story (i really hope you understand this im so sorry my thoughts are literally all over the place) and then one night he goes to her room again bc of another nightmare and she comforts him and they fall asleep and he doesn’t have any nightmares while sleeping and then in the morning when they wake up (tangled in each others limbs) he goes ‘i love you’ and she smiles and goes i know and then he goes like ‘no, i LOVE you’ and she smiles more and whispers ‘i know’ and then kisses him!!!

thank you for making this new game and always specifying the as much detail as we want part i love u and ur writing soso much and you are so amazing and im so sorry for making you read this super long request

— anon 🌷

NIGHTMARES

⤷ LOKY LAUFEYSON

ᯓ★ Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, some angst and some fluff

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 4.3k

ᯓ★ Summary: just what the ask said

ᯓ★ TW(s): nothing I think, just some angst

ᯓ★ Love is in the air - Valentine's Day special game

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

Loki has no choice but to be here.

It is a punishment, though not the kind he expected. No dungeons, no chains—just the ever-present weight of Midgardian hospitality, which is its own sort of prison. After Asgard’s fall and the madness that followed, Thor petitioned to bring Loki to the Avengers Compound rather than leave him to whatever grim fate awaited him elsewhere. It was a mercy, Thor claimed. Loki knew better. It was just another way to keep him under watch, to keep him leashed. So he plays along, lets them believe he is something tame and manageable, even if the mere presence of this place makes his skin crawl.

The others do not trust him. That much is expected. Even if Loki had miraculously decided to change his ways, there is too much blood between them all. Stark especially watches him like a vulture, always ready with some barbed comment, some clever little jab to remind Loki that he is not welcome. Rogers is quieter about his disdain, ever the noble soldier, but he does not mask it well. Romanoff does not bother with pretense—she does not speak to him at all. Barton is much the same, still nursing whatever wounds Loki left behind in New York. Maximoff has her own reasons to hate him. Strange treats him as one might treat an unpredictable wild animal, barely interested beyond the occasional veiled threat.

Thor is the only one who does not look at Loki like an enemy, though his efforts to bridge the gap between them are clumsy at best. Loki does not want his brother’s pity. He does not want to be here at all.

And yet, somehow, against all odds, you happen.

You are the only one who speaks to Loki without venom in your voice, the only one who does not look at him like a problem that needs solving. From the very beginning, you offer him kindness. Not the strained, obligatory sort Thor extends, nor the artificial niceties of someone waiting for him to slip up. You are simply… kind. It baffles him. It frustrates him. It keeps him awake at night, replaying your words and gestures in his mind, trying to decipher your angle.

He tests you at first. He is cruel, the way he has always been, sharp-tongued and dismissive. He tries to chase you away, because he cannot fathom why you would want to be close to him. But you stay. You take his barbs with an infuriating sort of patience, countering his wit with your own, refusing to let him push you into the shadows. And slowly, against his better judgment, he stops trying to push at all.

Loki does not know when exactly things change. One moment, you are just another foolish Midgardian trying to play nice with the villain, and the next, you are something else entirely. A constant. A presence that lingers in his mind even when you are not there. He finds himself seeking you out, watching for you when he enters a room. He makes excuses to be where you are, though he is certain you see through them all.

You are different from the others. Perhaps that is why he lets you in. Perhaps that is why, when you tease him, he does not feel the usual bite of mockery. When you speak to him, he listens. When you laugh, he does not wish for silence.

It is strange, this… whatever this is between you. He does not know what to call it.

There is a night, early on, when he realizes how much he enjoys your presence. The others are away on some mission, leaving the compound oddly silent. You do not know he is there when you slip into the common room, curled up in the corner with a book, lost in the pages. Loki watches you for longer than he should before making himself known. You do not startle when he speaks, do not tense like the others do when they notice him lurking. You simply glance up, meet his gaze, and smile.

It is a small thing. A meaningless thing. And yet, Loki feels it somewhere deep in his chest, in a place he thought long since turned to stone.

From then on, things are… different. You and Loki fall into an easy rhythm, one that does not require explanation. You are his friend, though he still struggles with the weight of that word. It is unfamiliar on his tongue, but there is no other way to describe what you are to him. You speak to him as though he is not a monster. You listen when he speaks, even when his words turn bitter. You do not pity him, nor do you fear him. It is a delicate balance, and yet, you hold it effortlessly.

The others notice, of course. Stark makes his comments, forever incredulous that you would willingly spend your time with Loki. The others exchange looks when they see you together, silently wondering what exactly has formed between you. Even Thor is perplexed by it, though he does not question it aloud.

Loki does not care what they think.

For the first time in what feels like centuries, he is not entirely alone.

---

The first time it happens, Loki does not intend for it to happen at all.

It is late—long past the hour when even the restless find sleep. The compound is silent, steeped in the kind of darkness that makes everything feel heavier, more oppressive. He should be resting. He knows this. And yet, as he lies in the too-soft Midgardian bed, the sheets tangled around his restless limbs, Loki cannot shake the remnants of his nightmare.

It is not the first time he has suffered such things. They have plagued him for years, twisting his thoughts into cruel shapes, dragging him into memories he cannot escape. Usually, he endures them alone, swallowing down the horror, letting it fester in silence. But tonight is different. Tonight, the weight of it is unbearable.

He sits up, dragging a hand down his face, breath still unsteady. The dream clings to him like a second skin. He can feel it—thick, choking, inescapable. His own screams still echo in his mind, a cruel reminder of how easily he unravels when left alone with his thoughts.

He needs to breathe.

Loki forces himself out of bed, out of his room, into the dimly lit hall. He does not know where he is going at first. He does not think at all. His body moves on instinct, his feet carrying him forward before his mind catches up.

And then he is standing in front of your door.

The realization strikes him like a blow. He should not be here. He has no reason to be here. And yet, something in him will not allow him to turn away.

He hesitates, jaw tight, fingers curling into fists. He should leave. The last thing he wants is for you to see him like this—weak, vulnerable, broken. You have only ever known the pieces of him that he allows you to see, the sharp wit, the clever smirk, the mask that keeps the world at bay. This… this is something else entirely.

And yet, before he can stop himself, he lifts his hand and knocks.

It is soft, barely audible, but in the silence of the compound, it may as well be a thunderclap. His heart pounds against his ribs, and he almost turns to flee before the sound of movement reaches his ears.

A moment later, the door opens.

You stand before him, bleary-eyed and wrapped in a blanket, confusion written across your features.

"Loki?" Your voice is thick with sleep, but there is no irritation in it, no impatience. Just quiet concern.

He does not know what to say. He does not even know why he is here, why he has come to you instead of locking himself away like he always does. The words catch in his throat, his pride warring with his need for something—anything—to ground him.

But you look at him, really look at him, and something in your expression shifts.

You step aside without a word, leaving the doorway open in silent invitation.

For a long moment, Loki simply stands there, waging a battle within himself. He should not do this. He should not need this.

But the alternative is far worse.

So, with slow, reluctant steps, he moves inside.

You close the door behind him, and the quiet settles between you, not awkward, but heavy with something unspoken. You do not ask why he is here. You do not press him for an explanation. Instead, you gesture toward your bed, a silent offer, as if you have already decided what he needs before he can admit it himself.

He swallows, shame burning in his chest, but he cannot bring himself to refuse.

Without a word, he lowers himself onto the edge of the bed. His hands tremble slightly as he presses them against his knees, his entire body taut with tension. He feels exposed, raw in a way that terrifies him.

And then you sit beside him, so close he can feel your warmth.

Still, you do not push. You wait.

It is this—your patience, your quiet understanding—that breaks something in him.

He exhales sharply, his composure fracturing at the edges. His shoulders shake before he can stop them, and then, before he even knows what is happening, his hands are gripping the fabric of his own sleeves so tightly that his knuckles turn white.

You move before he can react, before he can even think to stop you. Your arms come around him, careful but certain, pulling him into your embrace.

Loki stiffens at first, instinct screaming at him to pull away. He is not used to this—to being held. He does not know how to accept comfort, how to take something so freely given.

But you do not let go. You do not waver. You simply hold him, warm and steady, as if this is the most natural thing in the world.

And Loki breaks.

A shuddering breath escapes him, and then another. His body sags against yours before he can stop it, his forehead pressing into your shoulder, his fingers clutching at the fabric of your shirt like a lifeline. The dam bursts, and before he can stop it, he is trembling, shaking, silent sobs wracking his frame.

You say nothing. You do not tell him it is okay, do not offer empty reassurances. You simply hold him through it, your hands moving gently along his back, your touch grounding him in a way that nothing else ever has.

Time loses meaning. He does not know how long he stays like this, pressed against you, his breath uneven, his body betraying him. But you never pull away. You never make him feel as if he is too much.

When the storm finally begins to pass, when his breathing evens and the tremors fade, he feels exhaustion settle deep in his bones. He should move. He should leave before he humiliates himself further.

But then you shift, adjusting your grip so that you are holding him more fully, your chin resting gently atop his head.

"Stay," you murmur, the word barely above a whisper.

He does not fight it.

For the first time in his life, Loki allows himself to be held.

That night, he sleeps.

And then, somehow, it becomes normal.

It does not happen every night, but often enough that neither of you question it anymore. When the nightmares come, when the weight of his past becomes unbearable, Loki finds himself at your door.

And every time, without fail, you let him in.

The shame he once felt begins to fade, replaced by something he does not have the words for. You do not judge him for his weakness. You do not make him feel like a burden. You simply accept him, in all his fractured, broken pieces, without hesitation.

It is terrifying.

It is the most comfort he has ever known.

And Loki does not know what to do with that.

---

Loki does not know when it begins. Perhaps it has always been there, buried beneath layers of denial and self-preservation, something too delicate to acknowledge, too dangerous to name. But slowly, steadily, it grows.

He notices it in the quiet moments, in the spaces between words.

It is in the way he seeks you out without realizing it, the way his day does not feel quite right until he has spoken to you. It is in the way his chest tightens when you laugh, in the way his mind lingers on your voice long after you have left the room.

It is in the nights spent wrapped in your arms, when the nightmares become too much.

At first, those nights were a necessity, a last resort when his own mind betrayed him. But now, they are something else entirely. The shame that once clung to him has faded, replaced by something far more dangerous. He no longer fights the pull toward you—he welcomes it. He does not know when it became so natural to find solace in your presence, to lean into your warmth without hesitation.

But it is not just about the nightmares anymore.

It is the way he lingers when he does not need to. The way his fingers brush against yours in passing, the way he memorizes every shift in your expression, the way your touch lingers on his skin long after you have pulled away. It is the way his heart pounds in his chest at the smallest of gestures, the way your absence leaves an ache that he cannot name.

And then, one night, it happens.

It is late, but Loki is not in his room. He is in yours, as he has been countless times before. The routine is familiar—he wakes from a nightmare, the echoes of it still clinging to his skin, and without thinking, his feet carry him to you.

You let him in, as you always do.

Tonight, the weight of it is heavier than usual. The nightmare lingers in his mind, curling around his thoughts like smoke. He does not speak of it, and you do not ask. You simply pull him into your arms, letting him bury himself against you, his breath uneven against your collarbone.

For a long time, neither of you move. The silence is comforting, your fingers tracing gentle patterns along his back, grounding him.

And then, in the stillness, something shifts.

You sigh softly, a sleepy, content sound, your arms tightening around him just slightly before relaxing again. It is the simplest thing—an unconscious movement, a meaningless moment.

But it unravels him.

The realization hits Loki with the force of a thousand suns. It is sudden and absolute, as if it has been waiting for this exact moment to make itself known.

He loves you.

It is not friendship, not even close. It never has been.

His love for you is deep and consuming, something that lives in his very bones. It is in the way he looks at you when you are not watching, the way your presence soothes him in a way nothing else ever has. It is in the way he would burn the world to the ground if it meant keeping you safe.

The realization is terrifying.

Loki does not move. He does not breathe. He simply lies there, pressed against you, as the weight of it crushes him.

This should not have happened. He should not have allowed it.

Love is a weakness. It is a thing to be used, to be twisted and turned against him. He has seen it happen too many times before. He has felt the sting of rejection, the sharp bite of betrayal. He knows better than to hope.

And yet, it is too late.

Loki swallows hard, willing the ache in his chest to subside. He cannot tell you. He will not. You are his closest friend, the only person who has ever truly seen him, the only one who has never turned him away. If he speaks this truth aloud, he risks losing that.

And that is something he cannot bear.

So he does what he has always done—he buries it.

He forces himself to breathe, forces himself to relax against you, as if nothing has changed. Because for you, nothing has.

You do not know. You cannot know.

And Loki will make sure it stays that way.

From that night on, everything feels different.

He pretends it does not. He is careful, measured. He acts as he always has, keeps his words and actions the same. He does not allow himself to linger too long, does not let his touch betray him.

But inside, he is unraveling.

It is a constant war, a battle he fights every second he is near you. He is hyperaware of every glance, every touch, every breath. He cannot stop looking at your lips when you speak, cannot ignore the way his heart clenches when you smile.

And the worst part? You do not even notice.

You treat him the same as always, utterly unaware of the storm raging inside him. You laugh with him, tease him, pull him into your arms on those quiet nights, completely oblivious to the fact that every moment is torture.

Because he wants.

Gods, how he wants.

There are nights when he stands outside your door, debating whether or not he should knock. Not because of the nightmares—those still come, but they are no longer the only reason he seeks you out. He knocks because he aches for your presence, because the thought of being alone feels unbearable.

And every time, without fail, you let him in.

You do not question it. You do not ask why. You simply welcome him as if he belongs there, as if it is the most natural thing in the world.

And maybe, to you, it is.

But for Loki, it is agony.

Because he cannot have you.

Not the way he wants.

And so, he suffers in silence.

He lets himself be near you, lets himself feel your warmth, your touch, your kindness. But he never says a word. He keeps it locked inside, where it cannot hurt either of you.

Because if you do not know, then you cannot leave.

And for Loki, that is the only thing that matters.

---

It happens again.

Another nightmare. Another night where the ghosts of his past pull him under, drowning him in horrors he cannot escape.

Loki wakes with a sharp inhale, his breath coming too fast, his chest tight with panic. The darkness of his room feels suffocating, the walls too close, the air too thin. His hands tremble as he presses them against the mattress, trying to ground himself, trying to remind himself that he is here, not there.

Not falling. Not failing. Not alone.

The thought comes unbidden, as it always does.

Because he is not alone.

Without thinking, without hesitating, his body moves on instinct, slipping out of bed and into the hallway. His bare feet make no sound against the floor, the compound silent in the deep hours of the night. He does not question where he is going. He does not stop to consider if he should.

Because he already knows the answer.

Your door is slightly ajar, just as it always is. You never lock it. You never turn him away.

Loki hesitates for only a moment before pushing it open.

The room is bathed in darkness, the faint glow of the city outside casting soft shadows along the walls. You are curled beneath the blankets, your breathing slow and steady, lost in sleep.

He should leave. He should not do this.

But the remnants of his nightmare still cling to him, cold and suffocating, and he cannot bear the thought of returning to his room, to the silence, to the weight of his own thoughts.

So he steps inside.

The floor creaks beneath his weight, but you do not startle. You stir slightly, shifting against the pillows, but you do not wake.

And yet, as he stands there, lingering in the doorway, you sigh softly, murmuring his name in the dark. Not with fear, not with surprise—just quiet understanding, as if you expected him to be there all along.

Something in his chest tightens.

He does not speak, does not explain. He simply moves toward the bed, and when he hesitates, you lift the blanket in silent invitation.

He exhales, slow and shaky, before slipping beneath the covers beside you.

The warmth of you envelops him immediately, soft and steady, grounding him in a way that nothing else ever has.

He presses closer without thinking, without meaning to, his forehead brushing against your shoulder, his hands curled near his chest.

And then, as if sensing the last of his hesitation, you shift just enough to pull him fully against you, wrapping your arms around him in a way that makes everything inside him unravel.

Loki breathes.

The tension eases from his body, the nightmare fading into nothing, the ghosts retreating into the shadows where they belong.

You hold him, just as you always do, your fingers tracing lazy, soothing patterns along his back. He feels your breath against his temple, soft and even, and for the first time in a long time, he lets himself relax.

His eyes grow heavy, his body warm, and then—

Sleep finds him.

And for the first time in years, there are no nightmares.

The morning sun filters through the curtains, golden and soft, chasing away the last remnants of night.

Loki stirs slowly, caught in that hazy space between sleep and wakefulness, his mind still wrapped in warmth, in comfort, in you.

There is something different this time. Usually, when morning comes, he is awake before you, careful to slip away before you can stir, before you can see him in the vulnerable light of day.

But this morning, he does not move.

He is tangled in your limbs, his head resting against your chest, your arms still wrapped around him.

He does not want to move.

Your scent surrounds him, your warmth pressing against every inch of him, and for once, he allows himself to savor it.

His eyes flutter open just enough to catch the golden light spilling across the bed, the way your hair glows in the morning sun. You are still asleep, your breath slow and steady, your heartbeat a gentle rhythm beneath his ear.

And he is safe.

The thought settles in his chest, warm and unfamiliar, something he has never allowed himself to believe before.

And before he can stop himself, before his mind fully catches up with his body, the words slip out, slow and sleepy and utterly unguarded.

"I love you."

The words are barely above a whisper, a sigh against your skin, but you hear them.

Because you smile.

Loki does not see it at first, but he feels it—the shift in your body, the way your arms tighten around him just slightly, the way your breath catches for half a second before settling again.

And then, still drowsy, still wrapped in the warmth of morning, you murmur, "I know."

Loki freezes.

His breath catches in his throat, his body going rigid against you as his mind finally catches up with his words.

What has he done?

Panic rises in his chest, sharp and sudden. He had not meant to say it, had not meant to ruin this. He was supposed to keep it buried, to let it fester in silence where it could not hurt either of you.

But it is too late.

You know.

And then, just as he is about to pull away, just as the weight of his own foolishness threatens to crush him, you shift beneath him, tilting your head just slightly, pressing your lips to the top of his head in a touch so soft it makes him ache.

And then—

"I know," you whisper again, and this time, your voice is different.

He swallows hard, eyes squeezing shut, his fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt.

"No," he breathes, barely audible, as if saying it again will somehow change the meaning, make you understand the weight of it.

But you do.

You have always understood him better than anyone.

"I love you," he says again, more certain this time, more him, his voice rough from sleep and tangled in something too big to contain.

He feels you smile against his hair.

And then, gently, finally, you whisper, "I know."

And then you kiss him.

Loki stills, every thought in his mind vanishing into nothing as your lips press against his.

It is soft and slow, something delicate, something precious.

It is not hurried or desperate. It is intentional. Certain.

Your fingers brush against his jaw, tilting his face up to yours, deepening the kiss just enough to steal the breath from his lungs.

And Loki—Loki, who has spent his entire life running from things he cannot bear to lose—lets himself fall.

When you finally pull away, your forehead resting against his, Loki does not move. He cannot. His heart is still catching up with what just happened, his mind still drowning in the warmth of you.

You smile, pressing one last kiss to the corner of his mouth before murmuring, "Took you long enough."

A breath of laughter escapes him, something he did not expect, something light and unguarded.

He presses his face back into the crook of your neck, exhaling slowly as the last of his fear dissolves into nothing.

"You are insufferable," he mumbles, but there is no heat behind the words, no bite.

Only love.

And this time, he does not try to hide it.

[blu-writes]

I took a few days off from writing to have some fun and focus on streaming and art!! I’ll be answering and checking requests now! But while you’re here you should tell me what you think of this piece I did for my Twitch redebut 🥺👉👈

[blu-writes]

⌕ sonic the hedgehog.

like or reblog if you save/use. ✨

[blu-writes]

I’ll never forget when I had kny brainrot so bad I was having a nightmare and gyomei came in and saved me and then we cuddled all night long

Ah good times (I try to make that dream happen again all the time)

[blu-writes]

⌕ sonic • shadow the hedgehog.

like or reblog if you save/use. ✨

[blu-writes]

I saw that you take Sonic requests! Is it strictly game versions and shows, or do you do the movies too? :o

It’s actually currently only the 3 most recent movies! I’m working on watching boom and prime so I’ll add those to my writing list when I can!!

[blu-writes]

Whoo!! Thank you so much for my v-day request! I love how Bumblebee was Mr. 'I see what's going on here~' lol. Thank you for working so hard on it! 🙏💕

AWEEEE OFC!!!

I only want to put out the best work I can for you guys so sometimes it takes a bit to put out stories teehee

[blu-writes]

Ooooh, so many options! In that case, can I request an adult human reader for Prime that is trying to get info out of the bots for romantic gifts and gestures for their culture so they can try to do something for Optimus on Valentine's day to showcase their romantic interest and respect for the Autobot leader? I'll let you decide if the story ends in a PG rating or something higher~

A Gift from the Spark

TFP! Optimus Prime x Human!Reader

A/N: Soooo I lost my entire first draft of this story when it was 98% done.. 🥲 This will HOPEFULLY be out before Valentine’s Day, but I’m trying not to rush it too much. While you’re here, you should go follow me on twitter @ gloopyVT !! My VTuber Debut is in the works and I’m super excited to get the ball rolling on that!

Warnings: Cursing, NSFW ending, 18+ only!

A sigh escaped your lips as you scrolled on your phone. People all over town were posting pictures and videos of themselves out on dates and romantic trips with their significant others. Normally this time of year excited you, not because of all the dates, no, you liked it because the candy is half price for like a week afterwards!!

But this year, a certain bot had your eye. The two of you had multiple nights in each other’s company, talking about the things that troubled you both and about Cybertron, his home planet. Optimus Prime was the strong, and fearless leader of the Autobots, never backing down from a fight. But on long restless nights, he confided in you, explaining how much he wants to go home, how tired he was of this endless war. And you letting him ramble and vent had created a special friendship between you two, one that had began to make you have butterflies every time you looked at him, one that made your core heat up with no warning.

You would do anything to show him you cared. No more hiding the feelings you had for him, no more avoiding eye contact because you were scared he could tell how much you enjoyed his company. This year you wanted to do something that would show him just how much you appreciated him and how you really felt about him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

You got into your car and raced towards the Autobot base, hoping that Optimus was away either on a mission or a patrol so that you could get a chance to talk with the bots. You had no idea what Optimus would enjoy or appreciate, and you wanted to make sure you did something special for him so that he’d understand the full extent of your feelings.

As you pulled into the base, your heart raced with nerves. If he was here, your whole plan to talk to the other Autobots would be tossed out the window, and then you might as well just tell him how you feel anyways and leave to save yourself the embarrassment of his rejection.

‘Solid escape plan y/n. If all else fails, just run away and move to another state! He’ll never find me if I do that!’

Walking into the base, you kept an ear out for the familiar, deep voice of the fearless Prime, breathing a sigh of relief when you realized he wasn’t there. “Hey guys! Whatcha up to?” Bulkhead and Bumblebee sat behind Miko and Raf, watching them play some racing game against each other.

Bumblebee waved at you, chirping his hellos and Bulkhead got up to greet you, carrying you down into the main area where they all sat. “Hey y/n! How’s it hanging?” Miko paused the game and turned on the couch to look back at you, Raf following her actions. “Not much honestly, but I need to borrow you two-“ you pointed at Bee and Bulkhead “I need to ask you guys’ opinion on something.”

They got up and walked towards one of the hallways where you all could talk privately, leaving Miko and Raf to play their games once more as you followed them. “Alright. Do you two know what Valentine’s Day is?” They both nodded, “Yeah we’ve heard about it from the kids. Why?” You took a deep breath, were you really about to tell these two that you had feelings for their leader? Bumblebee's eye's lit up, he started buzzing and chirping happily at Bulkhead before calming down and letting Bulkhead take in what he was saying. "Hold on y/n, you're gonna ask Prime to be your Valentine?!" Your cheeks heated as you nodded, looking down at your feet. "Y-Yeah, I am. We've created a.. bond. He's someone I would consider closer than a best friend." The two bots smile at each other, letting your embarrassment calm before you continued. "I just want to do something for him that shows I really do care. Is there any customs on Cybertron that you would do to show someone you're interested in them romantically?" They thought for a second before a third voice chimed in. "Why not just tell him how you feel?" Bee and Bulkhead stepped aside as Ratchet walked up to you three. "I've known him the longest out of everyone here, and he would appreciate the honesty, especially since you two already have the kind of bond that's built on trust. I haven't seen him care for anyone like this since before the war."

Your face heated again and you took another deep breath. "I just want to show him that I care about his culture, if I do something that would mean a lot to him back on Cybertron then wouldn't that be best?" Ratchet shook his head "As much as I wish that were a good idea, Optimus misses hi- our home desperately. You may end up making him feel more sad than happy about your confession."

You nodded, sad that your original plan wouldn't work, but happy that Ratchet helped you before you made a mistake. "So you really think I should just tell him how I feel? No special gesture or anything?" He nodded as Optimus and Arcee drove down the hallway you all were standing in, transforming when they saw you. "Y/n? Is everything okay? You look stressed out." Optimus was the first to speak, him noticing your stressed expression right away making your heart flutter. "Y-Yeah! I'm okay! But I kinda have something I wanna talk to you about, preferably in private if possible." He nodded, picking you up and placing you on his shoulder, walking towards his quarters. "So what's on your mind? You seem really nervous." You sighed, being alone with him actually calming your nerves some. "Well, do you know what Valentine's Day is?" He hummed in response. "I have heard of it, it's a romantic holiday correct? Do you have someone in mind to take out?" You nodded, "Yeah I do have someone in mind, but I think he's way too good for me. He's strong and Kind, and he never leaves anyone behind. Hell, he'd probably save the life of his enemies without a second thought." Optimus entered his quarters, setting you down on a balcony he had Ratchet build so that he could be eye level with you on the long nights you would spend talking with each other. “I see, well I wish you the best of luck with asking him, Any man would be a fool not to accept your hand.”

You blushed, looking at him nervously. “You really haven’t picked up on what I’m saying?” He looked back at you, confusion all over his face. “Optimus, will you go on a Valentine’s Day date with me? Tonight?” His face of confusion turned to one of shock as he stared for a few seconds, just long enough for your face to drop.

“N-Nevermind. I knew it was stupid to ask. I’m sorry for wasting your time.” You started to climb down a ladder connected to the balcony before his hand wrapped around you, stopping you from climbing farther down. “Of course I will Y/n. I’m just shocked you had the nerve to say something before me.”

You grinned happily, relief and excitement filling your body. “I’ll see you tonight then Optimus. Pick me up at my place around 10 tonight and we’ll go out into the middle of nowhere. Somewhere we can be alone.” He nodded, smiling back at you before setting you on the ground.

“I’ll see you then, goodbye y/n.” You waved excitedly before running as fast as you could towards your car, ignoring the other bots calling your name. You couldn’t believe that he agreed to go out on a date with you. And that he felt the same way!!

~~~~~Timeskip~~~~~

You checked yourself in the mirror for the 100th time, making sure your red button down shirt was tucked perfectly into your black skirt/pants, and you fixed your hair up making sure everything looked perfect. You saw two bright headlights shine through the curtains of your home and you ran out of the bathroom, taking a deep breath before going outside and climbing into Optimus’s cab.

“You look stunning, Y/n. You shine brighter than all of the stars in the sky.” You gripped the steering wheel slightly, blushing at his compliments, making him chuckle softly. “T-Thank you. I still can’t believe you agreed to come out tonight.”

“I would’ve been a fool not to. Like I said, any man or bot would be a fool to turn you down.” His constant compliments rang through your head, sending tingles down your spine that made you close your legs together to try and calm yourself.

“We don’t have too far of a drive, I already set up something special for us.” You hummed with curiosity. “What did you set up? I figured we would just talk and see where the night took us.”

“You’ll see, we’re only a few minutes away.” You looked out of the windows excitedly, trying to spot whatever he may have set up for the two of you. The stars shining down on the desert sand making everything look like a sea of glitter.

After a few long minutes you saw a small patch of light in the distance, and Optimus veered off into the sand, transforming and carrying you over to a lit up picnic area after he was far enough from the road that he blended in with the night.

“Oh Optimus, this is perfect.” He chuckled again as he set you down onto the blanket. “I’m glad you like it, I brought you some wine.” He sat down in the sand and handed you the bottle and a glass, the cork already popped for you.

You poured yourself a glass and moved to sit next to him, leaning against his leg and gazing up at him. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for us to be able to do something like this?” You asked him, taking a sip of your wine. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted this?” He replied, making your heart melt.

“Why didn’t you say something to me then?” He moved you into his lap, leaning back against a large rock. “Well, I’m from a whole different planet. And I’m a leader of a war fighting for that planet. I never wanted to put you in harm’s way.” You could understand that, your reasons were practically the same, except instead of worrying about yourself getting hurt you worried about him.

“I really thought you were going to turn down my advances. I thought you’d think I was weird for wanting to be with you since we’re different in so many ways.” He shook his head, looking up at the stars and placing his hand gently on your thighs. “That’s where we disagree. I think we’re the same, and it made it hard for me to keep our relationship friendly, especially when you’d visit me so late at night.” Your face blazed and you finished your glass of wine in one gulp before taking another swig from the bottle.

“Maybe my plan the whole time was to try and get your attention. I wouldn’t mind being your distraction for a night.” He rubbed the outside of your thigh, letting his thumb graze dangerously close to your core. “I wouldn’t have minded that either, my spark.” Your legs opened slightly, and his thumb grazed even closer towards where you wanted him most. “I would’ve loved a distraction from you.” Finally. The tip of the cold metal of his thumb brushed against your mound, making a gasp leave your lips, a chuckle leaving his in response.

“You are so perfect, y/n. Let me show you how perfect I think you are.” You nodded and he lifted you up, setting you down on the blanket as he pulled your bottoms off carefully. “O-Optimus-“ he leaned over, pressing his cold metal lips against yours, a deep groan leaving his lips. “You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted this.” He kissed you again, moving his hand to rub your core, smiling into the kiss as you moaned, your back arching against his touch.

He pulled away after a few minutes, making you whine as the knot that was forming in your stomach faded away, making you feel cold in the nighttime desert air. “Fuck Optimus, why’d yo-Woah!” You gasped in shock as he picked you up and laid back, moving you up to his face. He huffed, and reached down towards his own crotch, grabbing his metallic shaft and pumping slowly.

“Just let me make you feel good my spark.” He sat you down against his lips, a harsh moan leaving you as his thick tongue entered your folds, filling you more than you’d ever been filled before. “F-Fuck!” You held the hand he had around your waist tightly as his tongue pumped in and out of your folds, and you watched as he pumped himself, his hips bucking up into his hand.

“You’re gonna make me cum! Oh don’t stop!!~” you rolled your hips against his lips, your clit touching the metal of his face making you shiver as the knot in your stomach became tighter. “Y-Y/n, I’m going to cum.” He took you off of his lips and made you straddle the length of his shaft.

“I’m close Optimus, please make me cum.” He nodded and thrusted his cock back and forth between your folds, the ridges and chill of his cock making your legs shake. “F-Fuck.. I’m c-cumming y/n.” You moaned loudly, gripping onto him for dear life as you squirted on his cock, his own cum shooting out of him as you shook against his member.

“W-Why didn’t we do this before?” You asked, huffing as you came down from your high. He chuckled, his cock retracting back inside of him and he set you down, helping you put your bottoms back on.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, My love.”

[blu-writes]

[gets in with you]

[gets in my little clown car]

[blu-writes]

oh nooo!! It's okay! Take your time! I'm happy to wait until Halloween for my v-day request! I'm just glad you're doing okay; you haven't posted in a minute and things in the world are heckin' sketchy right now, so I was worried!! 🥺😩

YOURE TOO SWEET OMG

I’m still gonna try and come out with the story today or tomorrow though >:)

[blu-writes]

I…I lost my entire Valentine’s Day post…

IM SO SORRY ANON ITS COMING I PROMISE

[blu-writes]

Love what I've seen from your writing so far! May I ask what kind of requests you do and don't take? 😀

Awe thank you!!

I do pretty much anything! NSFW, SFW, angst, fluff, and slow burns are my main style of writing!

Here’s fandoms I’m well versed enough in to write for (if it’s not here I’ll learn enough about it to write it’ll just take a bit for your request to come out):

- Transformers (Bayverse, Prime, One, G1, AU/Original Stories)

- The Apothecary Diaries

- Demon Slayer

- Homestuck

- TMNT

- Sonic

- (Honestly I’m drawing a blank but there’s a lot LMAO)

I WILL NOT write

- Smut or any story involving a romantic relationship of Sibling, Children, or any Family Members

- HEAVY Gore (maybe one day, I’m just not the best at those details yet :p)

- Anything x Reader that includes a minor as the love interest

I WILL write:

- NSFW

-SFW

-Fluff, slow burn, etc

- Angst, slight gore (I can try to write heavy if it’s requested, but if it doesn’t turn out write I won’t keep it in)

- OC x OC (with given context of the characters relationship/what you want)

[blu-writes]

If you’re gay, kiss me

If you’re straight, kiss me

If you’re trans, kiss me

If you’re bi, kiss me

If yo- I think you all get the point

[blu-writes]

you can at least try to masturbate the depression away

[blu-writes]

By Primus’s Will Pt.4 **TEASER**

Optimus Prime x AFAB!Reader

A/N: I’m sorry I haven’t been updating like I hoped I could! Life has been very hectic! I’m a full time twitch streamer and artist (for now) and I’m looking to move so I can pursue other careers in less than a week!! Please bare with me 🙏😭

TW: Talks of war, talks of death

“I want to know who you are, and what you all are fighting for.” They turned to look at Ratchet, scowling at him. “I can help more than you think. And you can use this garage for whatever you may need.”

Y/N’s POV:

I stood in silence as the two giant robots stared at me. “No.” Optimus finally spoke up, his words surprising me, especially after I offered them a place to stay.

“No?” I repeated and he nodded. “No. I appreciate the help and hospitality you’ve given us Y/N, but it’s for that same reason that I can’t let you get involved.” I stared at him and Ratchet, still in shock at his words.

“I had my hands inside your gut before your doctor got here. I think I’m already involved.” I stood my ground, straightening my stance as I looked directly into Optimus’s eyes. “You’re in my garage, Optimus. I’m already involved so just tell me what’s going on, and I’ll decide if I want to help or not.”

Ratchet looked between us, his face unreadable behind his mask and visor..if he had one. “Optimus-“ he said softly, and Optimus sighed. “Fine. If you wish to know that badly I will tell you. But you have to understand that just by hearing this message, you’re going to have a higher possibility of being in danger for the rest of your life.”

What more danger could I be in than having these two giant robots in my garage?

[blu-writes]

By Primus’s Will Pt.3

A/N: I’m sorry for the long wait between chapters! I’m currently moving and have been swamped with completing art commissions to help fund said move. ^^

TW: talk of wounds, blood, talk of death

"Thank you human." You looked up at him, still nervous over the fact that an alien robot sat in your garage.

"Y/N. You can call me Y/N" He nodded and closed his eyes, continuing to let you try and work on his side.

You wiped some of the sweat from your forehead and put the dirty rag over your shoulder. You had gotten his bleeding to stop temporarily, but you knew it wouldn’t last long. Especially if he woke up and tried to leave.

Turning and looking at out the door to the shed you saw the trail of blue “blood” beginning to dry and stain the floors of the shed. You filled a bucket with water from a tap in the back of the shed and tossed the water onto the concrete floor. You grabbed a brush broom and began to scrub at the spots.

You heard sirens racing near your house and looked back towards the road. An ambulance came racing towards your shed, nearly running you over before transforming into another tall robot.

“Where is Optimus Human!? He needs my attention!” You pointed into the shed, where he had to lean down to see into the building’s doorway and he dashed inside kneeling to look at his friend.

“I’m guessing you’re who he referred to as ‘Ratchet’? I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you.” He stayed silent, studying Optimus’s wounds and your handy work of his bandages.

“I tried my best to bandage him up. I don’t know how your bodies work-“ He turned around quickly and stared at you “Do you always talk so much? You know nothing about us yet you seem so calm and collected. Does our presence not scare you?”

You flinched at his words, realizing he was right, but you were scared at the two gigantic beings in front of you. “Trust me, I am absolutely terrified. But your friend was hurt. And bad. I don’t know where you two came from or what you’re doing in my garage. But I don’t want you to lose a friend because of a bad fall from space.”

You turned and started to leave the garage, huffing to yourself when a voice called out. “Wait Miss/Mr. Y/N. I want to thank you, and I want to apologize for my friend, we've grown custom to not trusting everyone we come across. And our situation is not very common, so your level-headedness during this has been surprising to say the least." You paused as he spoke, still facing the door to leave, and shook your head. "Don't worry about it. I can't say I blame him." You turned and walked out of the garage, still hurt by the quick judgement from Ratchet. “Stay here as long as you need. I’m going to close these doors so nobody can see you from the outside. If you need me, open the door and honk your horn once. I’ll hear you.”

Before either of them could say anything else you closed the doors and went into your house. The hot air of the desert was thick and you were happy to get back inside and cool off in the comfort of your home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Optimus’s POV ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ratchet watched every step Y/N took, careful to make sure they didn’t try to do anything hostile against either of us. Trusting somebody entirely new, and of a different race, would be hard. Not only for Ratchet and I, but for every other Cybertronian who came to Earth and tried to form any kind of alliance with the humans.

“Ratchet-“ A cough rattled through my chest, making an awful echo in the garage. I covered my mouth, drops of energon falling into my open palm. “Lay down Optimus. Your condition is only getting worse, I need to patch you up immediately.”

“If you hadn’t been so worried about talking to that human maybe you would be in better sha-“ I looked up at him as he caught himself, before groaning as Ratchet pulled out a large chunk of what looked like a rock, it’s tip covered in bright blue fluid.

“She/He patched you up well enough to keep you stable.. Impressive..” Ratchet dropped the rock and began working, his large hands working efficiently and quickly, stopping the bleeding much better than it had been before. “If it weren’t for Y/N, who knows what condition I would’ve been in by the time you arrived.”

He nodded, keeping his eyes focused on my side as I sat back up, making sure the wound stayed closed. “Y/N seems wonderful Optimus, They do, but we can’t go trusting a random Human just because they helped us. We’ve never had good luck with humans, all they want is to destroy us and use us for parts.”

Wrong. Bumblebee had a wonderful Human friend, he was the first scout sent here, instructed to stay hidden amongst the humans. Until a decepticon scout had managed to track him down. “How is Bumblebee? Have you managed to fix his speech yet?”

Ratchet turned away, sighing. “No, his voice is..irreparable. I’m still baffled he even survived that ambush.” If only I had been here to protect him. “And what of his human?” He looked back at me this time, shaking his head.

“Unfortunately she didn’t make it. Bee is lost without her, they were partners for 3 years. And he blames himself for her death.” I couldn’t help the frown that spread across my face. “I could’ve saved them both.”

“Optimus-“

“I could’ve saved them, Ratchet. It’s my fault Bee is injured, and it’s my fault that his friend passed away.” The door to the garage slid open, and Y/N stood there, refusing to make eye contact with Ratchet.

“I want to know who you are, and what you all are fighting for.” They turned to look at Ratchet, scowling at him. “I can help more than you think. And you can use this garage for whatever you may need.”

Tag List: @jaguarthecat

[blu-writes]

... big metal wife