#i didn’t know about it otherwise i would have botted

[presdestigatto]

hey we lost another twt poll. yk what that means!

[c0smiclatt3]

university!aventurine headcanons

☾₊ ⊹ TAGS: sfw, academic rivals :)), x reader

AN: time to university-beam aventurine :) it's been a minute because i've been away for a long while on holiday... forgive me if this isn't very good.

A business kid - and an infuriatingly good one. Some students whisper that he's only here because he got nepo babied into this school by his adoptive mother, a big figure in one of the biggest multinational corporations. Not that he needed the nepotism, though, Aventurine's mind is sharp as a knife.

He could charm even the most stubborn of professors. With him, once again, the rumors fly: some say that he must have dangled the seniority of his adoptive mother over one prof's head for a grade bump. Others say he must have been taught some sort of obscure hypnosis or subliminal messaging technique.

Color coordinated stationery and an entire Apple ecosystem. Of course.

Much to the disappointment of his group project members, he has a tendency to just go MIA for extended periods of time. Leaving messages on seen but otherwise unreachable and going on his own random tangents. Regardless, he always gets the job done, so there was no point complaining.

He's not a front row keener, he would never be that desperate for the professor's attention. No, much to the annoyance of the front row-ers, he lounges in the back of the lecture hall, speaking only to remark about some flaw in their answer, and when he did he always spoke as if it were the most obvious thing - and many times it was.

What probably infuriates them more is that it all comes so naturally to him - sitting in his seat there in the back with his arm propped up on the backboard, head propped on the palm of his other hand he counters every argument with ease. Even when he seems to be slacking off, whenever he’s cold-called he knows the exact answer.

Even if he didn’t, he’d still talk his way in circles until he’s gaslit you into thinking he’s right anyway.

You were a hard worker infuriated by the ease through which he made his way through the academy. It was all handed to him on a silver platter - you had to fight tooth and nail. One day you find yourself sitting beside him in the back, forced out of your front row seat by some other keener. You crane your head to try to listen to the prof's lecture but can't stand the flickering coin twisting through his hand. The way he twirls his monogrammed pen. It made your blood boil. "Can you quit doing that?" you finally snapped one day. "Am I distracting you?" He flashed you an even brighter grin that made you want to slap that smirk right off his pretty face. You scoff and open your mouth to retort, but the professor scolds you for the ruckus, calling you out specifically. When they return to their lecture you hear Aventurine hum in amusement. And so the bitter rivalry began.

writing masterlist | bot masterlist

AN: i hope this was alright! it seems a lot longer than my old ones. honestly it's been hard to get back into casually writing after being on holiday for 2 weeks lol.

[piningforstan]

Memories

Summary: You’re relieved to see your husband alive, but you have yet to learn at what cost.

Pairings: Stanley Pines x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: it’s angsty, the Pines are sad and not okay, memory loss, brief mention of a miscarriage

A/N: If I was a better person and had more time I would totally write a fic about this. This oneshot initially had a happy ending but it seemed right to end it where I did. Let me know if you’d want to read a happy ending, though! (Also I apologize for any inaccuracies)

Couldn’t the apocalypse have happened when your joints didn’t protest at every movement? You thought disdainfully back to your youth, when every step wasn’t hindered by bursts of shooting pain. The rumination was cut short, however, when the front door of the shack swung open.

In your time with Stan, with the shack, it had taken many forms. Becoming a giant fighting robot hadn’t been in your plans but it formed a shelter of sorts for survivors, somewhere mostly untainted with bad memories.

Dipper burst into the used-to-be foyer, followed by Mabel.

You called out their names. You’d been left behind to preside over the Shack-bot and cater to the injured — there hadn’t been time to worry about your loved ones but now that you’re watching the twins run across the room to you, you realize that there had been a significant knot in your stomach that was now loosening with relief.

“You’re alive! You’re okay!” You swept them into an embrace, pressing their bodies to you. God, they were just children.

“Grauntie —” Dipper started.

“I’m fine. I’m fine.” You studied their round faces, the streaks of tears cutting through the dirt on their cheeks. Using a thumb, you did your best to wipe away Mabel’s but Dipper slipped away.

“Grauntie, we have to tell you something—”

“Where’s Stan? And Ford? Are they okay?”

“Yes, well,” Dipper started to stammer. Mabel erupted into tears, holding the oversized sleeves of her sweater to her eyes to absorb them.

You glanced between the two twins, heart hammering in your chest. The moment wad broken by the sound of footsteps. Stan stepped into the remnants of the Mystery Shack, steered with a gentle hand by Ford. An unimaginable amount of relief flooded you. Stan, of course, was always in the forefront of your mind, but you hadn’t allowed yourself to think of anything devastating happening.

You wouldn’t — couldn’t — live without him. You refused. So you simply believed that he was safe.

And now here he was, suit torn and battered but still as devastatingly handsome as the day you met him. The protests from Dipper and Mabel faded away much like those of your joints; Stan made you feel young, breathed life into an otherwise greying existence. You untangled yourself from the twins and shot for the front door where he stood.

Ford inserted himself between you, mouth moving, but you couldn’t hear a thing. You just needed to get to Stan. Needed to feel his arms around you, the smell of his cologne (he mostly just rubbed on magazine samples, but you didn’t care). You sidestepped Ford and launched yourself at Stan, tears already overspilling onto your cheeks.

He staggered back a bit, catching himself on the doorframe as you tightly embraced him. Unable to contain your joy you grabbed him by either side of his stubbled face and kissed him.

Only a few seconds passed before Stan’s large hands were entrapping your wrists, pulling you from him. His eyes darted back and forth, and he wore an uneasy smile.

“Well, uh, that’s one way to introduce yourself,” he said.

Later, in hindsight, you recognized the signal going off in the back of your mind that something was wrong. But in that moment you’re completely consumed with happiness and relief and that must just be one of his jokes you don’t understand. “I can think of others but they probably wouldn’t be socially acceptable.”

The uneasy smile faltered. He laughed but it’s brittle and not fully committed. “You’re bold, I like that.”

Stan’s gaze flickered to Ford, as if for assurance.

Ford’s expression was grim, jaw clenched. “I need to speak with you privately —”

“Come on, let’s get you patched up and grab a drink.” You linked your arm through Stan’s and marched him towards the kitchen. He obliged but seemed reluctant, which you chalked up to fatigue. “Here. I’ll get everything. You sit.”

You stopped at Stan’s hideous yellow chair that you were secretly fond of. He stared at it. Then you.

“Here?” He asked. You don’t miss the way that he examined the room like he’s seeing it for the first time, lingering over the empty fish tank and the giant fossilized skull.

“I promise I didn’t let anyone get their blood on it or anything,” you said. You’re yapping now. Why were you yapping? It’s like you’re standing on the edge of a cliff, aware of the danger but not wanting to yield to the warnings. “I knew you were coming back. I couldn’t get rid of you that easily, right?”

You waited for him to reply. Stan’s face spasmed, uncomfortable, his arms stiff at his sides. You couldn’t remember a time you had ever seen him like this, unsure and quiet and reserved. You opened your mouth to prompt him to sit once again — what are you doing, silly? — when Dipper, Mabel, and Ford slid into view. Their eyes were wide, panicked, bouncing from you to Stan.

Hysteria crept into your tone. “What’s with this guy? Where’s the man I married?”

“Married?” Stan echoed. This is the first thing you’ve said to actually get a reaction from him.

Ford said your name. “Why don’t you come with me and let Stan rest?”

“Is this a joke? What’s going on?”

Mabel, cheeks blotchy, blurted, “Stan lost his memory! He doesn’t remember us. Any of us.” She dissolved into tears again.

A wave of numbness crashed over you. “What?”

“I’ve been trying to tell you —” Ford stopped, recollected himself. He looks older than you remember him, like whatever happened had aged him faster than natural. “Stan sacrificed himself. To defeat Bill. He gave up all of his memories for…us.”

Stan looked entirely uncomfortable with this situation and all of the weeping.

“What?” You said again. You suddenly felt like a cassette tape that’d been unspooled, and now you’re trying desperately to collect the film, gathering it in your arms to shove back inside the shell.

“It was his idea. It was…the only way,” Ford said. Even his voice was strained with emotion.

You blinked. And blinked again.

“Stan is that true?” You wheeled to face him, still clinging to the hope that this is some elaborate prank. Your grasp on any sanity slipped as you looked at your husband of over thirty years and saw nothing reflected in his face.

There was none of his child-like exuberance. His impish smile, always teetering on the edge of saying something absurd or inappropriate. The softness in his eyes whenever you’re speaking to him. It was as if you were staring into a shallow puddle, no ripples at the surface, no amount of recognition to be stirred upon from the bottom.

Something inside you cracked.

“Stan?” You reached a hand out to touch him. He let you, but it was almost worse that way. It was a gesture of kindness and nothing more; he knew you were upset and he didn’t know why but he knew that he was partly the reason.

A glimpse of the kindness that he hid beneath his hardened exterior.

You recoiled. Someone might as well have wrenched your ribcage open. Snapped your sternum in half in order to access your muscle and viscera and, finally, your heart. It hurt so badly you feared that it might break too.

“He doesn’t remember any of it?”

“I’m afraid not,” Ford said.

Dipper and Mabel, so achingly identical in their heartbreak, stood on either side of Ford. There’s enough devastation in the room to suffocate you.

“Stanley,” you say then, softly, pleadingly. “We’re your family. Surely you remember your family.”

Surely you remember how we met. Falling in love. Getting married. The adventures that ensued. Rebuilding the portal. Losing your baby, your only baby, and reconciling that you never would have children. The excitement you shared upon the news of Dipper and Mabel staying with you, how much you had fallen in love with them in such a short time period. Surely you remember that.

“Well, uh, looks don’t lie,” he replied, gesturing towards Ford and the twins bookending him.

“Let him rest.” Ford wad by your side now. How did he get there?

Everything was blurred at the edges, distorted.

The next thing you knew you’re sitting outside, in one of the ancient lawn chairs you convinced Stan to buy secondhand. You wanted to be able to watch Dipper and Mabel play when they were outside. But the small clearing had been wrecked — hell, the town that you loved had been wrecked, half of it on fire, smoke funneling into the sky.

None of that mattered, though.

Stan didn’t remember you.

But he’s alive, a small voice in you pointed out. He was alive and physically well. He might not remember you but he was going to live another day. Even if that day did not involve you or your shared jokes or brief touches, the comfort of loving the same person for half your life.

You could handle that, you thought. It was enough just to know that he was alive and in the world.

Strangely, you didn’t cry. You sat and watched ashes fall, covering the ground and the picnic bench where Mabel had performed improvised soliloquies to your delight, on the bike that Dipper bought himself — smile nearly splitting his cheeks — in order to investigate his many conspiracies. Ash coated everything. It was comforting, somehow, restorative, replacing the disconcerting scenes of Weirdmagaddeon with a blank state.

You couldn’t face going into the Mystery Shack so you slept outside in the lawn chair. No one came to shuttle you inside, but when you woke up in the morning there was a blanket folded over you.

[darylsdelts]

What about angst with Daryl??? I have a bot I made for myself following this thought 💀

Like an argument where things get said, causing silence for a couple of days and then boom! Next time you see him, it’s at the lineup…and then he gets taken…and then we see him again in Hilltop 🥲🥲🥲

(i actually broke my own heart with this one, my bot is so realistic it hurts 😭)

Anon! Drop the link RIGHT NOW!!!

This made my heart drop, I just know my poor boy would be blaming himself for everything.

Immediately after the argument, all Daryl wanted to do was come back to you and apologise in his own way. He wanted to hug you and tell you he didn’t mean what he said… but he didn’t.

He gave you some space, knowing it was probably best for both of you. The next few days were close to hell. Every time he’d see you on the streets of Alexandria he’d stare, hoping for atleast a bit of eye contact to know you were okay but you would just pretend you hadn’t seen him.

Daryl didn’t know that he could feel that sort of pain in his chest, like he was being physically crushed.

Christ, is this what women can do?

From then on he’d assume the worst.

You didn’t love him anymore.

So he’d pretend nothing ever happened, he’d talk to you if it were necessary but otherwise acted like the old Daryl, the one you had met before the spark grew.

Little did Daryl know how badly that hurt you… you were in the same position, you wanted to give him space and assumed he’d come back when he was ready but he never did.

So you assumed the worst.

He didn’t love you anymore.

You went along with Daryl’s act, assuming that’s what he had wanted you to do… but you missed him, you missed your Daryl. The one you had finally managed to break the defences of, the one who was starting to be more open with you but now all of that was gone, it disappeared like it never happened.

It was getting harder to monitor when Daryl was out and when he was within the walls since now he didn’t leave notes for you, but you’d seen him ride out today, seemingly angry about something but you could also tell he was hurting. You weren’t sure what had happened, no one had told you as of yet but some hours later you were sure that Daryl’s absence was something to worry about.

But you never thought it would be this.

You were pushed to your knees, your family lined up either side of you in a small clearing. The back doors of a van opened up, you couldn’t see what or who was in there but there was some commotion… and then loud panting.

You knew… god you fucking knew something happened, you should have spoken up earlier, maybe he wouldn’t be getting dragged out of a van right now, his shoulder leaking blood onto some sort of blanket that had been draped around him.

Fuck, did he get shot?

You lean forward, trying to look down the line of your family to catch Daryl’s gaze.

And after all those weeks, you finally did.

Daryl looked at you through his sweaty locks, his eyes dark and watery with frustration, his eyebrows twitch downwards when he saw you, he saw the fear and concern on your face and all of it was too much, he had to look away or he was gonna throw up from anxiety.

It was torture for Daryl, knowing you were frightened, knowing all of this before him was his fault.

When that asshole, Negan, stuck that damn bat in your face is when he lost all control of himself. Daryl jumped up and smashed his fist into Negan’s jaw, then trying to take further steps to tackle him but he was grabbed and pushed to the ground like a wild fucking animal.

He grunted and squirmed as his hair was pulled, he could hear you crying for them to stop.

“Get off of him! Get off! Daryl, get up!”

Fuck, he was trying to.

Eventually he was dragged back to his place in the line.

He wanted to look over to you but he was so fucking scared now, his heart was beating way too fast and his head was spinning.

He stole a short glance your way and he saw your hands covering your face, palms pushing into your eyes as you choked on your sobs.

He’d done this to you.

You would never forgive him for this.

Daryl just had to sit there, bleeding out from his shoulder as Negan battered members of his family before his eyes, he was sure he’d been the cause for the second death, Glenn. Maybe if he’d just stay put, he could’ve stopped that, he should’ve listened.

“No exceptions”

But he didn’t and it was his fault, he’d have to leave his family, they would never allow for someone like him to live with them now.

Turns out, that was the one thing he didn’t need to worry about, as he was stuffed straight back into the van, apparently Negan wanted to keep him.

Daryl doesn’t know how long he was in that cell for, it felt like years and all he could do was think of you. He was so fucking sorry and he knew he’d never get the chance to make it up to you and even if he did, you wouldn’t want to hear it. Rick wouldn’t want him back in the group but Daryl couldn’t stay here, he’d have to get out and survive on his own, completely.

With some help from one of ‘Negan’s wives’, Daryl escaped, however, his plan of escaping and surviving alone dissipated once he saw Jesus stood in front of him.

He’d come to get him out.

They wanted him back?

Back home?

Surely not.

The journey to hilltop was a fever dream, Daryl was unbelievably anxious, his breaths short, causing Jesus to keep checking on him to which Daryl didn’t reply to. In fact Daryl hadn’t opened his mouth the entire time.

As soon as they arrived at the gates, he could feel his throat closing up.

Were you here? Did you even want to see him? Probably not.

As the gates opened, Daryl kept his head down, following behind Jesus toward one of the medical trailers.

But then he heard his name.

“Daryl?… Daryl?!”

Daryl’s head slowly lifted to the direction of the voice, your voice. You were speed walking, no, now you were running toward him. You slung your arms around him, burying your face into his neck as you cried with… relief.

“You’re here, you’re back, you’re safe… safe now… I’m sorry, I love you so much, Daryl”

Daryl stood as still as stone. You were sorry? He should be the one apologising. You’re glad he’s back? You love him? You still love him.

His heart clenches at the thought.

He feels you pull away, your soft hands holding the sides of his face as your beautiful sparkly eyes look into his own. God he doesn’t deserve this.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?”

Suddenly it all seems to sink in and tears are blurring his vision as he shakes his head slightly, no.

“It’s gonna be okay now, you’re here with me now”

He could feel the life flooding back into him, pushing his face into the crook of your neck as he completely breaks down, hiding his face from the world as he lets out loud, uncontrolled sobs into the fabric of your shirt.

“M-M’s-sorry…. M’so-orry… L-love you so m-much…”

You gently rub his back to soothe him, now realising that your sweet man had blamed himself for everything that had happened.

“Ssshh it’s not your fault… let’s get you inside”

You feel him nod ever so slightly and then you lead him towards barrington house, all whilst trying to stay away from prying eyes of the community.

“I’m so glad you’re home, Daryl”

He didn’t reply with words but agreed internally, however, he meant it differently. It didn’t matter where he was, wherever you were was home and he’s so relieved to still have that.

This is so badly written, I’m sorry! But Tysm for the prompt! This was pretty fun to write.

[bots-and-cons]

How about knockout secretly becoming friends with reader who is under autobot protection?

A/N: I’ve got these HCs about Knockout’s s/o being under autobot protection. This is a bit of a different thing though, and I thought it was different enough to warrant its own post. These ended up kinda long, because I got invested, lol

•You and Knockout met by total accident, when a few off your friends had dragged you to watch an illegal street racing competition

•You had snuck out without telling the bots so they didn’t know where you were, hence none of them were there to stop you from being a bit reckless and having a good time

•Your friends wanted pictures with the cars and when you got close to Knockout, you noticed the small-ish decepticon insignia

•You of course tried to get your friends away from him, because who knows what he might do if he recognized you as one the autobot’s charges

•Knockout honestly hadn’t been paying much attention to what any of the humans who were under the autobot’s protection looked like, so he didn’t realize who you were right away

•Your friends wanted to take a couple of pictures despite your protests

•Knockout of course told them “Watch the paint job, I don’t want any scratches” as they leaned against him to take the pics

•Your friends thought it was just the driver saying it from inside the car, but you knew otherwise

•Your friends went away to the next car, but you marched up to Knockout’s driver side window and started talking to him

•”Why are you here?” you asked him

•”To race, obviously. Why else?” he scoffed

•That’s when he took a better look at you, because you were obviously talking to him like you knew him

•”Oh, you’re one of the autobot’s pets” you could basically hear the smirk in his voice

•”I’m not anyone’s pet you idiot, they’re my friends” you retorted

•Knockout found himself enjoying your banter, but the friend comment made him somewhat jealous, he couldn’t really call any of the decepticons his friends, except for Breakdown

•That’s basically where your friendship begun, you talked for quite a while and before you realized, your friends had left and so had your ride

•”Dammit, I’m gonna have to walk home” you muttered as the crowd kept thinning

•You didn’t know anyone else there, and your friends had left you there, so you started walking

•Knockout didn’t really say anything as you left, but a couple of minutes later, he realized it was quite cold outside and human’s don’t handle it very well or at least that’s what he’d understood

•He didn’t want you to die because of the cold, because that would just invite retribution from the autobots

•It actually wasn’t that cold, but you did live on the other side of town, so you had quite a long way to go

•Knockout didn’t know where you lived, but he drove after you and offered you a ride

•”So you can kidnap me and take me to the Nemesis? No thanks” you told him as he drove slowly next to you

•”I’m not going to kidnap you. I’m just not giddy at the thought of you dying in the cold and us getting blamed for it”

•You stopped walking and considered it for a moment, you really didn’t feel like walking over 5km in the chilly weather, and it looked like it was about to start raining too

•”Fine, you can take me close, but I’m not telling you where I live” you sighed, and hopped into the passenger’s seat

•You gave him directions, as he talked about something or other

•Knockout tends to talk a lot when he’s nervous, so he just kept talking to you

•You laughed at some of his jokes and he also commented how your friends were kinda mean for leaving you there like that

•You couldn’t help but agree, and you started ranting about your friends and the idiotic things they did sometimes

•You didn’t understand why, but he was just so easy to talk to, and you didn’t need to hide your opinions/feelings about your friends from him or hear a lecture or anything like that

•You could just talk, and he would listen and also validate your feelings by telling you your friends were in fact assholes 

•Knockout stopped at the grocery store parking lot that you had guided him to, but even then you continued talking

•”I know this is probably a stupid thing to say, but thanks, I haven’t been able to vent like that in a long while”

•”No problem, it was nice for me too” Knockout admitted

•He had talked about what an aft Megatron was and how badly Starscream treated him, but it was kind of funny how the inner workings of the decepticon leadership reminded you of a high school mean girls clique or something

•You told Knockout you weren’t going to mention this to the autobots, because you didn’t want a lecture and there really wasn’t anything to tell, he hadn’t done anything bad

•Knockout decided to leave you his comm link number (idk how it would work, but I decided it’s like a phone) so you could contact him if you wanted to

•You wrote it down on the notes on your phone and hopped out

•He could see you waving in the rearview mirror as you walked away

•It was the start of a rather odd friendship, which was not without its problems, but you grew to be good friends and confidants

•Of course you had to keep the whole thing hidden from the autobots, the same way Knockout couldn’t tell any of the cons

[blueikeproductions]

The Trigger collab animation came out and it’s the best thing Transformers has done in the current decade.

Truly a love letter to Transformers from G1 to EarthSpark, it squeezes in everything it possibly can from most media. However the catch is that it’s only animated media and the live action movies, the comics (any assorted manga, Marvel, Dreamwave, IDW & Skybound) aren’t referenced, while some Japanese exclusive stuff gets a lil’ bit more attention (understandable since it’s, y’know, Japanese fans being nostalgic about the anime they grew up with).

Transformers Go, Q-Transformers, and the Beast Wars anime got particular attention.

This shot of Liger Megatron and Green Lion Lio Convoy is especially cool.

I think initially I was expecting a Trigger animated greatest hits from select moments from each show, and while they still technically do that in spots…

It’s mostly a mega crossover with different characters interacting otherwise.

And it’s all the better for it.

I mean where else are you gonna find TFA Optimus about to smash Masterforce Overlord’s face in?

There’s no real narrative, it’s just random cool shots though the closest thing to a framing device is the PV opening with Vector Prime looking down on Cybertron across all time lines.

Regarding EarthSpark’s contributions to the short, they’re minimal. The Terrans and Mandroid don’t appear at all, which is a little bizarre.

ES Megatron appears among the other Decepticon leaders instead of being with ES Optimus on the Autobot leader side.

You’d think Mandroid would be there next to BWII Galvatron instead, but I guess not. Sadly they omitted RiD15 Steeljaw too, instead using RiD15 Megatronus Prime’s floating head.

SatAM Robotnik voice: Ah well, life is not perfect.

The main ES rep are the Maltos.

This just reinforces ES needed to be 2D, because they actually look good. Roche’s style doesn’t work in 3D.

Anyway the human cast they chose for this final shot amuses me.

Love seeing my favorite Clays being included. The lack of RiD Steeljaw (G1 Steeljaw did appear with Lio Junior and RiD15 Aerobolt though) is forgiven.

Anyhow, the specific use of the Clays, the (S3) Witwickys, the Maltos and the Onishis (this is especially funny since Koji’s mom never met her universe’s Optimus) is somehow very random, but also kinda appropriate. Like I get Spike and Dot’s families, since it serves as bookends, but the Clays and Onishis still feel a bit random. Still, including both Robots in Disguise families is a nice touch in my book!

The short ends with a different bookend as mentioned.

What starts out as G1 Prime & Megs transitions to ES Prime & Megs shaking hands. The old with the current series. It works~! I admit I’m surprised they didn’t include TFONE somehow. I know it’s technically not out yet, but there’s enough material to have had Orion and D-16 have some kind of tussle. It would’ve been an interesting way to tie it into the above scene and this one:

When it comes to general rep, the stuff that gets the most focus is G1, Beast Wars, Animated, & Galaxy Force. Cyberverse doesn’t really get anything beyond the leader shot, but there is this awesome but very random shot of Croaton over looking Holi’s Rescue Patrol walking on a beach littered with the dead bodies of the generic Decepticons from “War Dawn”.

Sucks to be you guys.

It also occurs to me the Rescue Bots cartoons appear to be omitted along with BotBots, but that might partly be due to them not having Japanese releases? I’m not sure, but it’s funny how Q-Transformers is acknowledged of all things, but not Heatwave or Burgertron. Maaaaybe that’s for the best on the later…

Still the PV is a blast and is pry the most earnest passion project that GETS Transformers vs what we’ve been getting post Aligned cartoon wise.

I still hope this leads to a proper TF anime series made by Trigger, like what happened with Gridman. We need a return to good 2D animated TF shows and not more CGI slop like WFC or S2 ES. That Beast Wars and Machines are still superior despite being retro by today’s standards says something…

The catch however is the original video is region locked…

but some fans have ripped it and posted it on their YT:

So go check it out while you can! It’s pure Energon-y goodness!

[in1-nutshell]

Hellooo :)

Wanted to ask if you can write a Predacon Buddy version/AU? In my idea their alt mode would be similar to a Night fury from How to train your dragon/HTTYD. I'm imagining a mix between movie 1 Toothless personality and movie 3 Toothless personality mostly.

Buddy being very playful and outgoing even as a Predacon, play fighting with Skylynx and/or Darksteel and teasing Predaking by laying in his lap (can we call it that?? I dunno. I mean his front legs) and placing their paws/claws on Predakings snout. Or simply stealing his Energon/prey/whatever he eats for a chase?

Buddy, despite being with their pack most of the time, sometimes ends up with the Autobots. Nobody knows how or why. Buddy, being in their alt mode, just one day chilling in the Autobots base as the bots come back from a mission (Ratchet left for too). The bots just walk in and see a fragging Predacon chilling in the middle of their base like- THE FRAG?? HOW DID THAT GET IN HERE??!

Please do it with the Autobots and Decepticons if that's alright!!

I love your writing SO DAMN MUCH ♥️♥️

PS Sorry for any spelling mistakes!

Thank you for the complement! And don't worry too much about spelling mistakes, we all make them!

Predacon Buddy's are slowly becoming a common theme here.

Hope you enjoy!

Bot Buddy the Night Fury Predacon with Bumblebee, Smokescreen, Predaking, and Soundwave

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Cybertronain reader

TFP

Shockwave doesn’t really know what happened to this Predacon when they came out of the test tube.

He blames Starscream.

Does Starscream have anything to do with this?

Maybe. He seems like the most logical suspect.

Buddy came out small, cute, and curious. Already nipping at Cons pedes when they came to close with their retractable dermas.

Curiosity was a dangerous thing to have if left unchecked.

So, Shockwave did the only logical thing.

He gave Buddy to Predacon, Skylynx, and Darksteel to look after.

The three older Predacons had their servos full trying to take care of Buddy.

Which was mainly Predaking doing most of the work. He was the most responsible out of the group and their king, naturally he picked up this duty.

Draksteel and Skynx where in charge of playing with Buddy.

Curiosity led Buddy to find the empty Autobot base by accident.

Of course, they didn’t really care about this ongoing war.

Right now, they wanted some places with a warm spot, maybe something soft to cuddle.

Some stray beams of sunlight hit the floor of the base creating a lovely warm place to sleep. But they needed the soft thing now to make things complete.

A soft little gasp was heard behind Buddy as they turned around quickly baring their retractable dermas.

They quickly put them away seeing a small human boy frozen in place. The weird looking frames on his face intrigued Buddy as they crept closer.

Raf just stayed still not knowing what to do.

Buddy vented out roughly knocking Raf’s glasses off his face which caused him to fall to the floor.

Buddy softly pocked at Raf’s hair.

Finally! The soft thing has been found!

Buddy carried Raf by the helm of his shirt and moved to the warm spot, circled around the place before plopping down.

Raf was trapped in between Buddy’s helm and front servos as they snuggled up to him before falling into recharge.

This is what Raf gets for staying at the base for 5 minutes alone.

Miko was never going to let him live this down.

For now, he figured he wasn’t in danger, and the small dragon was warm… and he didn’t get much sleep lately…

Raf was out like a light before he knew it causing Buddy to snuggle even further into their new favorite human.

Team Buddy duty

These bots were supposed to be watching Buddy. Buddy wasn’t supposed to leave the Nemesis until they had orders to go otherwise. Are they panicking when they can’t find Buddy on the ship? Who’s going to tell them in their face without risking the consequences?

Predaking

Soundwave

Team that’s about to have a break down

These bots are very concerned in finding Buddy. Whether it be in the base sunbathing with their new favorite human or just gliding back from a long day of flying, these bots are about to lose it. They are just glad that no one got hurt by the end of the day.

Bumblebee

Smokescreen

Predaking

[that-sokovian-bastard]

Pequeña - Miguel O'Hara x (f)Reader

Words: 6048 Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x (f)Reader Warnings: SMUT. Minors DNI! 18+ only!!!! Swearing, unprotected sex (wrap it up babes), PIV sex, teasing, bratty-ish reader, slight edging, web restraints, fingering (f receiving), mean-ish Miguel, slight enemies-to-lovers (enemies to fucking, really). Porn with the slightest bit of plot. Summary: You and Miguel are undercover, tracking a criminal for questioning. Later that night, you both give into your desires. Author’s Note: I am obsessed with Miguel. I have no idea how his suit works, so just go with it (I know it’s a projection, I don’t know how it works at all??). The first half/undercover section of this fic is based on a chat I had on character.ai from this bot! Miguel speaks a little Spanish, there are translations in the fic.

Spiderverse / Full Masterlist

–

“You need to ease up,” Miguel said, not looking at you. “Otherwise, you’re going to get us caught.”

You looked up at him, pretending to be madly in love with your so-called husband for this mission. You had to admit; he looked damn good when he got dressed in something that wasn’t his Spider-Man suit, which you know he could turn on at any moment. But in his dark suit in this fancy club, it was hard not to admire him.

But he also couldn’t pretend you didn’t look good either, in your black dress with small straps, showing off your necklace and collarbone. You two fit right in at this club, sipping on drinks at the bar and looking for your mark.

To Miguel’s advice, you take a deep breath and smile up at him. His hand rested on your waist, also playing his role well. Finally, he looked down at you and spoke softly. “The more in love we appear, the less we’ll be watched,” He said, shooting you a sly message.

You catch the message instantly and continue looking at him, your smile turning slightly snarky. You slowly put your hand on his cheek, tilting his face down to meet your lips for a small kiss. “Like that?” You asked once you released him.

Miguel, the mighty Spider-Man, doesn’t get taken by surprise often. But that kiss certainly did. He knows you two are undercover as husband and wife, but he really wasn’t expecting you to take it so far to kiss him already–especially unprompted. He sucked in a breath after the kiss and chuckled at you, amused. “Exactly like that,” He smiled.

Your faces are still only a few inches apart from each other. “Now, my dear,” You smiled again, your hand still on Miguel’s cheek, “Do you see the criminal?”

Miguel’s eyes scan the room, trying his hardest not to be noticed by anyone. But he continues to play along. He leans down again, just a breath away from you, still smiling as he answers. “No, sweetheart, how about you?” He asked.

Your eyes danced around the room, looking for anyone suspicious. After a minute of looking, still standing close to Miguel, you looked back at him. “No, not yet,” You said, leaning in quickly to peck his lips again.

In response, Miguel sighed. He tried not to look annoyed, but you’ve known him for far too long not to know how he looks when you annoy him. “You need to be focused,” He grumbled, but not moving away from his position. “How am I supposed to work with you if you don’t take it seriously?”

You knew he meant it as an insult, so you playfully gasped in response before whispering to him. “I am taking this seriously,” You shot back, harsh but quiet. Then, your eyes catch someone staring at the two of you for longer than any normal person would. “Someone’s watching us now,” You started, quickly coming up with a plan. “I’m making sure it’s not the mark. Lean in and kiss my neck so I can get a better look,” You said, making Miguel raise his eyebrows in response.

He was a bit shocked at your demand but also impressed. “Clever,” He said under his breath, slowly leaning in and attaching his lips to your neck lightly. You turned your head to follow the mysterious man around the side of the club. It wasn’t anything that would leave a mark, but the contact made his heart stop, and Miguel never imagined that he would ever kiss you in this way, let alone on a mission. But he listened to you and peppered a few kisses just as you asked him.

“Stay there,” You added, fluttering your eyes to make it look like you were enjoying the kiss and fully distracted as you watched the man look back at you and Miguel. “Okay, darling,” You whispered again. “Come up my neck, to my cheek, and move my face to the left,” You directed him. “Go slow, he’s watching.”

Miguel doesn’t answer, but he listens and slowly moves his head up your neck, jaw, and cheek, kissing slowly. His one hand stabilized himself on the bar while the other was still on your waist. Once he made it to your cheek and planted another kiss, he moved his hand from the bar and turned your cheek. “There?” He asked, barely moving his lips off of you.

“Perfect,” You sighed. “Thank you, my love,” You said, your eyes scanning the room as you watched the mysterious guy leave. “I don’t think it’s our guy directly. I think he might be reporting to him,” You explained, and Miguel slowly removed his lips and fingers from your cheek, leaning back with a smirk. “We put on a pretty good show,” You smirked at him as Miguel’s other hand also landed on your waist. “He didn’t seem suspicious at all.”

“Good,” Miguel responded. “Glad you were paying attention,” He said, removing both his hands from your waist and turning back to his drink sitting on the bar. As you watched him, Miguel grabbed his rocks glass and tossed his head back as he finished the rest of his drink in one swig. “Since you did so well with that,” He said as he set his glass down, turning his head back to you. “What’s the next part of your plan?”

You looked at him with furrowed brows. Miguel said that like he was testing you, expecting you to pose the next part of your plan, and he would grade you. He may have a few superhero-ing years on you, but not enough to where he can treat you like he’s your leader. “What’s that look for?” He asked, looking you up and down. “Am I not pleasing you, my wife?”

You rolled your eyes at Miguel as he watched you. “You act like I need supervision and approval,” You started, finishing your drink before continuing. “I am just as skilled a hero as you are. But, since you asked so kindly, I do have the next part of the plan,” You said, smirking as you looked back at Miguel to see his eyebrows raise, egging you on to keep going. “We need to follow him, hopefully, he’ll lead us to his boss. So, you’re going to drag me out of here, laughing, like the drunk and in-love couple we are. Once we’re outside, push me up against the side of the building so I can get a better view of the guy,” You propose, seeing Miguel’s concern grow on his face. “Then we go from there.”

Miguel shook his head when you finished speaking. “Seems a bit overkill,” He said. “Why so much?”

“Can’t let anyone catch on that we’re undercover,” You said slyly. “If the guy catches us, our whole plan will blow,” You smirked again, this time taking your time to look him up and down. “What, did kissing my skin make you forget our whole goal of this case?”

Miguel struggled to find words for a moment, which you rarely ever see out of him. “I, uh, no,” He tried to convince you.

You cocked your head at him, finally catching him in a moment of weakness. “How am I supposed to work with you if you don’t take it seriously?” You asked, using his exact words against him, knowing you caught him off guard and distracted him. “I’ll forgive you this time, Miguel.”

He chuckled in astonishment at your boldness. “You,” He paused, “Are such a brat,” Miguel said. Your jaw dropped in surprise, but before you could respond, he smiled again and grabbed your hand, quickly dragging you out of the club like you directed in your plan.

You played along, pretending not to also have been caught by surprise, as you laughed while he pulled you through the crowd. As soon as you got out the front door, Miguel spotted the mysterious man and did exactly as you planned, turning the corner and throwing you against the brick wall. He still had his hand around one of your wrists, and he pinned it to the wall as his face stopped only an inch away from yours. “Do you see him?” He grumbled, looking into your eyes as he leaned forward.

Your eyes darted to the parking lot. “Yes,” You whispered. “He’s watching us again.”

Miguel smirked. “He must’ve enjoyed our show inside,” He said in a low tone. “Maybe we should give him another one.”

Before you could ask what he meant, he threw his head forward and attached his lips to yours hungrily. He kissed you hard for a few moments before backing off to let you breathe, but he didn’t move away, and he still had your arm pinned. This time, you were the one thrown off and distracted as you stared at Miguel with wide eyes. “Dear,” Miguel said, continuing like he didn’t just kiss you. “How do you think we get him to come over here?”

You tilted your head to get your mouth closer to his ear. “He doesn’t seem like the type that would fall for a threesome trick, so just follow my lead,” You said, which only worried Miguel in the process. You didn’t give him any time to ask what you were planning, and you quickly shoved your free hand on Miguel’s chest, pushing him back. “Hey! What are you thinking?” You shouted. “Just because I’m your wife, it doesn’t mean you can do that,” You scold Miguel, definitely taking him by surprise.

Miguel didn’t move very far because he still held your other wrist to the wall, but you looked angry, and it caught the attention of the criminal. “Mi amor,” Miguel said in a hushed tone, trying to get you to calm down. “You just look so beautiful, and all the things you say to me…” He trailed off, smiling slightly.

“I still told you not here!” You shouted again, trying to shake your wrist out of his grasp. “Let me go!”

Before Miguel could react or respond, you noticed the criminal walking closer to the two of you. “You heard the lady,” The criminal grumbled. “Let the sweet thing go.”

Instinctively, Miguel pulled his hand back from your wrist. Once it was free, you used your other hand to rub it where he held it. It didn’t hurt, but you wanted to make it look like it did. You were impressed that it worked so well in getting the criminal interested, but it was easy to tell he just wanted to be a hero and save the pretty girl.

“Good,” The criminal said, walking toward you and cutting Miguel off, forcing him to step back. “Are you okay, little one?” He asked, and you shifted your stance to respond to the man.

“I am, thank you,” You said. “My husband just had too much to drink and got too excited,” You explained.

The criminal laughed, looking back at Miguel once. “I can tell. He was all over you inside, too.”

You nodded, trying to figure out a way to steer the conversation to get him to admit what you want to hear. “Yeah, he gets like that. Thank you for your help. Not every day you’re saved by a big, strong man,” You smirked.

Miguel stayed quiet while you played the game, and the criminal was playing right into your compliments. “I’m sure I could show you a better time than whatever your lousy husband can do,” The criminal said. “A little girl like you needs a real man.”

You noticed Miguel roll his eyes at the criminal, but the criminal had no interest in him whatsoever. You giggled, fitting your role. “You’re right. Say, what do you do for work? I’m sure it’s much more interesting than the accountant my husband is.”

The criminal smirked at you. “It definitely is, little one,” He said. “But I can’t disclose that. It’s classified.”

“Pity,” You sighed and walked up to him, close enough to grab his hand. You stepped up on your tip toes to get close to his face, shooting a quick look at Miguel. “Is there any chance that you work for Kingpin?”

The criminal's smirk was wiped off his face as you asked him this question. He tried to pull his hand away from you, but you’re strong, and you had a tight grip. “Aw, big boy, where do you think you’re going?” You asked. “My husband and I just need to ask you some questions.”

Right as you said that, Miguel shot some webs at the criminal, and he fell to the ground. You wiped your hand off on your dress and shrugged once Miguel stood next to you. “Good work,” Miguel said. “Let’s get him to HQ,” He said, swiftly picking up the criminal, the two of you throwing your masks on and swinging out of the parking lot and back to headquarters.

—

You and Miguel walked out of the interrogation room after a grueling few hours. You ripped your mask off, and Miguel turned off the projection on his face, both exhausted. He asked one of the Peter Parkers to move Kingpin's goon to a holding cell so he could take a break.

“I really did not expect it to take so long for him to talk,” You sighed, running your fingers through your hair. “Though, I’m impressed how well we played our roles as husband and wife.”

As you walked down an empty hallway, HQ being nearly empty from the late hour, you looked at Miguel when he didn’t respond. “Hello? Earth to O’Hara?” You waved your hand in front of his face.

“Do you ever shut up?” He growled, glaring at you when he turned his head. “We just got out of interrogating that guy for hours, and you’re still talking,” Miguel said. “I was right. You really are an annoying brat.”

“Excuse me?” You asked Miguel, eyebrows raised. “I am not a brat.”

Miguel chuckled, shaking his head. “Ay, dios…” He muttered. “Yes, you are,” He said, turning his whole body to stand in front of you, looking down. “The entire mission only proved to me that you are.” (Oh my god).

You crossed your arms, staring up at him, annoyed at what he was calling you. “I am not.”

“Oh yeah?” He asked, his voice deep as he towered over you. Miguel looked both ways down the hallway before he put one hand on your shoulder, shoving you into the wall. His other hand grabbed your wrist, holding it tight. “If you’re not a brat, tell me you don’t like this,” He said as he brought his face closer to yours, his lips only a breath away from kissing yours.

You stayed silent, breathing heavily and trying not to react to him. “Tell me,” Miguel demanded again. “Tell me you don’t like this.”

“I can’t,” You whispered, pinned hard against the wall.

Miguel smirked. “I knew it,” He said, closing that last inch and kissing you immediately. His kiss only pushed you harder into the wall, and your bodies were touching. You tried to move your other hand that he wasn’t holding to touch his arm, but before you could barely lift it, he removed his hand from your shoulder and caught your other wrist, also pinning it to the wall. All you could do was let Miguel kiss you, and you kissed him back.

He pulled back for a moment to take a breath. “You can tell me to stop,” He said through heavy breaths.

You shook your head, also breathing heavily, looking up at him with wide eyes. “I don’t want you to stop.”

“Good,” Miguel said, letting go of your wrists and wrapping his arms around your waist. He picked you up like you weighed nothing, which surprised you, but his height and strength made it easy for him. He rushed down the rest of the hallway until he stopped at the door to his room, quickly entering and setting you down.

Upon locking the door, he pushed you up against the wall again, wasting no time returning to kissing you. He grabbed both your wrists with one hand and held them together above your head, and his other hand held your chin angled up. The kiss deepened, pulling a few moans from both of you as you couldn’t get enough of each other.

After a few minutes, Miguel pulled his head back again to let you breathe. He let out a laugh, and you could see his slight smile from the dim lamp in the corner of the room. “What?” You asked.

“Nothing, mi amor,” Miguel said. “Or…what was it the criminal called you that you liked so much?” He asked aloud, then smirked when he remembered. “That’s right. Little one. Pequeña.”

“Mhm,” You hummed, tilting your head to try to get him to kiss you again, but you didn’t have much leverage as he held your wrists and your chin.

Miguel angled his head so you couldn’t get any closer. “No, pequeña. Have some patience,” He said. “You’re going to take this suit off the moment I release your wrists, understand?”

“Yes,” You whispered, and Miguel nodded. He let your wrists drop, and he stepped back, giving you some space as he watched you peel off your skin-tight suit. He had to admit; he really hated that you changed into your costume when you returned to Spider Society HQ; he loved how you looked in the dress. But he also loved watching you listen to his command and undress only a few feet in front of him.

When you stepped out of your bodysuit, you tossed it onto the floor, and Miguel’s gaze made you feel even more exposed than you were. You still had your sports bra and underwear on, but how he stared at you made you feel completely bare. You brought your arms up to cross them in front of your stomach, trying to hide whatever else you could.

“Don’t,” Miguel said in a deep tone as he continued staring. “Keep your hands at your side, pequeña. Let me look at you,” He said, his eyes not moving. You moved your hands back to your sides and looked down at the floor for a few minutes before Miguel spoke again. “Remove your bra.”

Slowly, you moved your hands from your sides and grabbed the hem of your sports bra, slipping it over your head. You shut your eyes when your breasts were on full display, fighting the urge to hide them with your hands. “Are you uncomfortable?” Miguel asked. “If you are, we can stop everything and forget this ever happened. You just have to speak up.”

“No,” You shook your head, opening your eyes again. “Just nervous.”

“There’s no need to be,” He replied. “You have nothing to be ashamed of, pequeña.” As he said this, he walked closer to you and put one of his hands around your waist. You looked up at him, and Miguel smirked down at you. “Truly beautiful. We should go on undercover missions more often. You cleaned up nicely.”

“So did you,” You responded, causing Miguel to smile in response. “I liked pretending to be your confident wife.”

“Hmm,” Miguel said, his face getting closer to yours. “Maybe too confident. I need to get my revenge on you for your little neck-kissing stunt. How did that go? Like this?” He asked, leaning in to kiss your neck like he did just a few hours prior. He focused on a few spots above your collarbone and shoulder, sucking and biting lightly to leave some marks. After spending some time on your neck, he copied what he did earlier and left a trail of kissing up your neck, jaw, and cheek, finally settling on your lips again.

Miguel’s free hand moved and landed on your breast as he kissed you. He gently massaged, going slow in case you needed to tell him to stop, but you never did. When he pulled back from your lips, his head dove down, planted a few kisses on your chest, then smiled at you. “Come on,” He said and grabbed your wrist tightly to pull you across the room to his bed.

He set you gently on the bed, putting his hand on your chest and pushing you back to lie down. Immediately, Miguel leaned over you, straddling your hips. “Keep your hands on the bed,” He directed you as he leaned in to kiss you again, his suit still on. His weight on top of you was a different sensation from anything you had felt before, and you desperately wanted to reach your hands up and touch his hair. As he kissed you, your mind started to spin, and one of your hands moved off the bed.

Before it even got a few inches off, he caught your wrist and pushed it back into the bed. “I’m serious, pequeña. Your hands stay on the bed,” He muttered when he pulled away from your lips. “Or I will secure them to the bed.”

He didn’t give you a chance to respond before attacking your lips again, but his hand did let go of your wrist, trusting you to listen. The hand that propped himself up on the bed stayed next to you while the other made its way down to your waist, playing with the edge of your panties. “Can’t wait to get these off, pequeña,” Miguel said against your lips.

“You’re still dressed,” You replied, a slight pout on your face.

He laughed against you. “I can turn that off in an instant,” He said. “But I want to see you imagining what’s under my suit,” You can feel the smirk radiating off him. “I’ll give you a hint.”

Miguel moved his bottom half closer to you, nearly grinding up against your panties so you could feel him. You gasped at the sudden touch, not expecting to feel him in this way while he still had his suit on. “So?” He prompted.

You nodded quickly. “I’m imagining,” You promised, and he chuckled at you before kissing you again, sneaking his hand under your panty line. As Miguel ground against you and his fingers got closer to where you wanted, your hand quickly went up to his hair and pulled.

Immediately, he removed his hand from under your panties, stopped kissing you, and sat up so he wasn’t touching you at all. “Tsk,” Miguel shook his head. “I gave you one task, pequeña, and you couldn’t do it. I warned you to keep your hands on the bed,” He said, sounding a mix of both disappointment and excitement. “Put your hands above your head.”

“What?” You asked, not sure what he was getting at.

“Put your hands above your head,” He directed, more serious this time. When you still didn’t move, he rolled his eyes and leaned forward again, grabbing your wrists one by one and throwing them above your head. When he sat back up, he held out one of his arms and aimed his wrist at your hands, shooting a few webs to secure your hands and wrists to the headboard.

Miguel was amused when he saw your look of surprise. “I warned you that if you couldn’t keep your hands on the bed, then I would make sure you would,” He shrugged. “And, now, if you don’t want your feet to end up the same way, you’ll keep your legs still. Do you understand, pequeña?”

“I-I understand, Miguel,” You stammered, a bit intimidated but matching his excitement. You pulled at the webs around your wrists, testing their strength, making him laugh again.

“You know that those aren’t going anywhere,” He said, leaning back over you. He kissed along the center of your breasts and down your stomach, stopping at your panties. “I think it’s time we finally take these off,” Miguel said, hooking his finger in and pulling them down, moving your legs as he needed to get them off of you easily. He smirked when he saw you glistening. “Oh, you really want this, huh?” He asked.

You nodded in response. “Y-yes,” You said.

Miguel shook his head with a cocky look on his face. He tilted his head up as he looked down at you, and before you knew it, his suit dematerialized, and he was overtop you, smirking. There were definitely benefits to his suit being a projection, and easy access was one of them.

But he was teasing you.

Only his chest and arms were exposed, making you gasp at his bare body, but also impatient to see the rest of him the same way. “What’s that look for?” Miguel asked, knowing the answer. “You’ve seen me shirtless before. Don’t be shy now,” He said, knowing you’re vulnerable. Though it may be true, that was a different circumstance. He was patching himself up after getting hit; he wasn’t over you, smirking at you while naked and tied up. This was entirely different.

He could tell you were distracted by looking at his chest. You were staring and maybe a little stuck in your own head with all your annoying thoughts. Miguel decided that if he wanted your attention, he was going to get it and keep it.

Pulling you out of your thoughts, you yelped when you felt Miguel’s fingers run through your folds. Your legs instantly reacted, squeezing your thighs together, but Miguel just pushed them apart with a satisfied grin on his face. “Got your attention now,” He said, slowly moving his fingers up and down, quickly getting covered in your slick. You kept making noises, whimpering, and he was a little concerned. “Pequeña, if you want me to stop, just say it.”

You shook your head quickly, grounding yourself and catching your breath. “No, don’t…don’t want you to stop,” You managed to force out the complete sentence.

Upon your confirmation, Miguel nodded. He kept moving his fingers while his other hand held your thigh down, making sure you couldn’t move that one. Every few strokes, his fingers brushed over your clit, making you gasp in surprise, but it was never enough stimulation to do anything else. He was barely moving fast enough to build you up; he was still only teasing you.

When he pulled his fingers away, you groaned loudly. “What?” Miguel asked, amused. “Does someone not like being treated like the little brat she is?”

“I’m…I’m not a brat,” You argued with him, but Miguel only laughed in response.

“Oh yeah?” He asked, cocking his head as his hand came back down onto you. Quickly, he started circling your clit, flicking it a few times, then rubbing fast. “You wouldn’t like this if you weren’t a brat,” He said, the speed of his fingers increasing once he heard you starting to moan and thrash in your web bindings. “And if you weren’t a brat, you’d stay still, like you promised. Do you want me to secure the rest of your body to the bed?” Miguel asked, keeping his fingers moving against you.

It was hard to respond with all the stimulation, but you forced your body to stop thrashing and pulling because you really didn’t want him to add any more webs to your body. You wanted him to do more, to touch your harder, to fuck you, but he was taking his time. And it was driving you crazy.

Miguel knew you’d have a hard time staying still, and he let some twitches and movement slide. He only really cared about the intense pulling and struggling. You moaned against Miguel’s fast fingers as he quickly built you up to the edge of an orgasm, careful to slow down before you went over the edge.

You were right there, about to orgasm from Miguel just touching you, but he pulled away. When all stimulation stopped, your legs contracted, and you ached, yelling loudly at how mean he was. Miguel just stared at you as you writhed in desperation, screaming out how much you needed to come. He shook his head at you as he watched, his hands resting on his hips. “Pequeña mocosa,” Miguel scoffed, staring down at you. (little brat).

When you finally calmed down, still on the edge of release, you were able to open your eyes and look at Miguel. However, when you saw him this time, his whole suit was gone, and he was finally in front of you, fully naked. Your eyes widened upon seeing him like this, but it certainly wasn’t an unwelcome view.

“Staring is rude,” Miguel commented, moving to sit on the bed on his knees between your legs. “Tell me what you want, pequeña.”

“You,” You gasped out, still recovering from your almost orgasm.

Miguel laughed, leaning over you now. “I know that. I need you to be more specific,” He instructs, his hands going back down to lightly touch your pussy.

You yelped again when his hand returned to touching you, moving devilishly slow up and down, just enough to keep your brain scrambled. You almost couldn’t believe he was going to make you spell it out for him, but it also made too much sense that he wanted to hear your exact words. “I want you to fuck me raw,” You said in a low, sultry tone.

Miguel wasn’t expecting you to say that or to be that confident. He was expecting you to skirt around the question until he was so impatient that he would do what you wanted. But, after getting over his initial shock at your bluntness, he smirked. “Dios, you are such a brat,” He shook his head and removed his hand again, adjusting himself so he was more lined up with you. You watched his hand go down to his cock, grabbing it and stroking a few times. “Are you sure that’s what you want, pequeña?” Miguel asked.

You nodded your head, your eyes not leaving the sight in front of you. “Yes. I’m certain,” You said, now just waiting in anticipation. Miguel’s smirk didn’t leave his face as he teased you, lining himself up right against your entrance. You pulled at the webs around your hands, wanting to touch him, to pull him against you, and it only made him more cocky in this position. “Miguel…” You whined, stretching out his name.

A soft laugh escaped Miguel’s lips. “Fine, fine, I’ll stop messing with you,” He said and slowly, finally, pushed his cock into you. At just the tip, you let out a groan like you never had before, this new feeling of Miguel surprising you. He took the groan as encouragement, sliding all the way in and starting to pump in and out at a steady pace. As much as he wanted to fuck you raw like you so boldly dared him, he was going to ease into it a bit. He wanted to take his time, getting you even more desperate for him, so for now, he went slow.

“Faster,” You gasped, trying to move your hips in time with his, but he held you so tight you could barely move them.

“Have patience, pequeña,” Miguel said, squeezing his hands as he kept his pace steady. “Remember, stay still. I would hate to have to web up your legs. It would be terrible if you couldn’t move even an inch,” His smirk got even bigger. “Or would my little brat like that?”

You shook your head, not wanting him to have any excuse to stop his movements. It only made Miguel laugh as he moved slower to drive all the way into you, his hips against you and pausing to admire your face. “You are truly beautiful,” He said, then leaned in as he was still paused inside you. He smiled as he leaned forward, slowly attaching his lips to yours in a deep, passionate kiss, causing you to close your eyes and enjoy the sensation.

“Tell me what you want,” Miguel said once he pulled back from your lips.

After taking a deep breath, you nodded at him once. “I want you to move,” You said, desperate for any more stimulation. “I want you to go faster.”

“Hm,” Miguel hummed, looking into your eyes to see how much you really wanted him. “I think I can do that for you,” He smiled and started to move in and out of you again. His pace started slow like before, but he was quickly building up to a faster speed, thrusting his hips and grunting loudly. Your grunts and moans matched his as he sped up, going fast but not hurting you, and your legs quickly started to shake from the force of Miguel’s body.

You were going to ask Miguel to adjust so he could hit the best spot, but as soon as you opened your mouth to ask, a loud moan was forced out of you as Miguel’s fingers went right back onto your clit. He smirked when you reacted to his fingers, and he moved them slowly around you, giving you just enough stimulation to bring you back to the edge.

Your legs tightened around Miguel’s body as he pumped into you faster, and his fingers played with you. Miguel didn’t mind that you moved your legs this time because he loved the feeling of your legs around his hips, holding him to you. It made him feel powerful, like you needed him.

Miguel felt even more powerful when you couldn’t say anything besides his name and moan loudly. Those were the best noises he’d ever heard, and if he could only hear that for the rest of his life, he’d be happy. He didn’t realize until tonight how much you needed him; it was as much as he needed you.

He smirked down at you as he felt your legs start to shake around his hips, knowing you were close to your orgasm as he moved in and out of you and kept his finger playing with your clit. “Come on, pequeña, you can do it,” He encouraged you, as he also was building up to the edge of release.

You started to moan louder as you were pushed over the edge of your climax, Miguel’s hand moving quickly on your clit to help you through it. Once you screamed out, tightening around Miguel as he kept moving in and out of you. “Fuck, pequeña,” Miguel grunted, his voice low, still thrusting into you as fast as he could. He watched your eyes roll back into your head and arch your back off the bed as you screamed his name out. As soon as he heard you say his name in that rough voice, Miguel pushed over the edge with you, twitching inside you and releasing.

Miguel matched your moans, grunting your name through his orgasm. When he finally came down, he pulled out of you and collapsed on your chest. Your brain was a bit mushy, and your eyes kept fluttering shut.

You weren’t sure how you got there, but when your brain finally returned to reality, you were sitting in a bath, being cleaned off by Miguel. He was quiet, gently running a washcloth over your shoulders as he sat behind you. “Miguel?” You spoke, your voice hoarse.

“Ah, there she is,” Miguel hummed from behind you. “You feeling okay, pequeña?” He asked.

Nodding slowly, you looked a little confused. “What did I miss?”

Miguel chuckled a little. “You were a bit out of it, but it’s okay. I’ve got you,” Miguel said. “You know, you’re not such a brat when you’re like this,” He joked.

“Ha-ha,” You threw a glare at him. “I think we should be undercover partners more often.”

You watched as he shook his head, his lip curling up into a tiny smile. “Maybe,” He said. “You should go back to being quiet; you’re much more tolerable like that,” Miguel smirked, leaning in so his mouth was right next to your ear. “Who knows, maybe I’ll even fuck you until you’re raw next time,” He said.

“Hmm,” You matched his smirk. “It’s a tempting offer. I’ll think about it.”

---

tags

@i-am-not-the-real-alice @designer--sunglasses @cirrec @glossierkisscs @ineffablebean @rloyal @criminalmindsmoodrn @iamninaanna @super-multifandom @ifilwtmfc @sitherin-mxschief

[ghosttalksalot]

Spidery!Peter Spideypool Fics

Let's do this! I have not read all of these. The ones I have not read have been recommended by those mentioned below + anonymous others. Anything that is explicit will be below the line, otherwise in no particular order. These will be from ao3. Assume completed unless otherwise stated. No dead dove or similar, content warnings prior to each summary. I will continue to add if anyone sends more! List below the break, and this is a long one.

You're gonna wanna be my bestfriend, baby by Firefly_ika

Teen&up. 11,843 words. "Peter’s given up caring about his identity around Wade. They're friends, proper friends, not just the kind of we-trade-banter-and-you've-saved-my-ass-a-few-times allies you tend to make in the vigilante gig. He hasn't exactly taken the mask off yet, but he's given more than enough information for Deadpool to track him down. The way he's going, it's like he'll reveal his whole life before, you know, actually revealing." (or) "Five things Peter exposes about himself, and the one that Wade figures out on his own."

Hunger Pains by X_Gon_Give_It

Teen&up. 931 words. Warning for graphic depictions of violence. "Why does he do this to himself? An angry thought hisses in Wade’s brain. Why does he have to make it so damn hard every time? But the anger is quick. Like a snap, there and then gone. Of course, this is hard on him. It’s easy to see the self hatred when he eats. The disgust at his own desperation. Now that he’s gotten to know Peter, and his sensibilities, it makes sense that this would be so difficult."

My Boyfriend's a Murder Bot by Fredegund

Mature. 55,912 words. Content warning, see tags. "Wade Winston Wilson is ugly. His skin's inside out. It ripples and moves every second of every day, at constant war with the cancer. Vanessa put on a brave face for him when she first saw the changes, but it turns out even she can't stomach the sight for long. He's ugly and alone and nothing will ever be good in life again - If only that were his only problem. But Weapon X is at it again, under crisp new management, turning orphans into super slaves and bringing out the big guns to make sure nobody interferes this go around (namely one Pool comma Dead). So now, not only is Wade alone and ugly forever, but he's got a bit of a pest problem in the form of a black-clad murder-happy man spider with a collar around his neck and an unhealthy obsession with tying Deadpool up. So maybe it's not all bad…"

because i have been lonely by QQI25

Teen&up. 8,591 words. See tag: basically Pete's a spider turned human. "As an immortal person, Wade has never really tried to make friends, save for a giant spider. But when an amulet turns the spider into a person, he has to learn how to live with another person in his life again."

When Instincts Take Over by TheStrange_One

Not rated, but no explicit content. 4,577 words. Not explicitly spideypool, but Peter & Wade nonetheless. "Wade had always had a—fascination, for lack of a better term, with NYC’s wall crawling web-themed hero. Just a little bit. Not a lot. He didn’t collect information of every Spider-Man sighting, or anything (He totally did.) So when Spider-Man started acting strangely, it was really no wonder that Wade noticed first. Of course, it didn’t hurt when he saw the behavior firsthand. Spidey webbing muggers, would-be rapists, and those who thought a little B&E was the best way to begin a day in a thick cocoon wasn’t unusual. However, then whirling and hissing—honest-to-God hissing—was."

Dark Horizons by beforethemoon

Teen&up. 11,215 words. Warning for graphic depictions of violence. Content warning, see tags. "“You—you’re the Spider-Man.” From beneath the mask, a slow smile crept across Peter’s face. Gregory Smith—an ordinary name for a man who wasn’t so ordinary—writhed in his grip. It was so easy to subdue the man; with his superstrength, Peter just had to apply the slightest pressure on good ol’ Greg’s neck and the man was blissfully silent. He liked hearing that line, though: you’re the Spider-Man. The Webslinger. Or, if you were J. Jonah Jameson, the Wall-Crawling Menace. So many names, but all were said with the tinge of fear that Peter was addicted to. They always managed to choke out the words, and he always made sure those were their last."

Better than Beyond Beef by BunsofHoney

Teen&up. 16,313 words. **See tag: Riding the literal bleeding edge of smut. Has a sequel. "Wade took in Spidey’s inhuman appearance. "You look about ready to go hunting." "I… get like this sometimes, when I'm in a lot of pain, or fear, or angry I think. Right now I…I just need a really rare steak, that's all." - When a sudden explosion leaves them both badly injured, Wade discovers that Spider-Man's mutation can make him a little...feral. Wade makes an offer to help Spidey heal faster and satiate his craving. What's a little cannibalism between friends?"

----- fics below this line contain explicit content -----

Songs for the Zombie Apocalypse, a 5-part series by zerospoons_onlyknives (oprime)

First work is Teen&up. Second third, and fourth works are Mature, with sexual content. Fifth work is explicit. 50,000 total words. Zombie apocalypse au, they're not superheroes. Warning for graphic depictions of violence. "Peter Parker and Wade Wilson navigate zombies, religious extremists, and each other as they try to survive the apocalypse. What started as a kidnapping morphs into a weird bond between the two but sometimes it feels like only one of them can survive."

I'm Something of a Scientist Myself by fancastical

Explicit. 11,422 words. Content warning, read tags. "Wade decides to start dousing himself in various synthetic spider sex pheromones before meeting up with Spidey, because why wouldn't he? They have some… interesting results. Wade feels downright scientific."

Upside Down by TheOrangeWritingRanger

Explicit. 56,271 words. Warning for graphic depictions of violence. Content warning for an especially spidery Peter. "Wade Wilson is as happy as a chipmunk in a peanut factory, Avenging by day as Deadpool, playing videogames and eating countless tacos by night. But something is missing from his life, or so say the ever present voices in his head. In the course of investigating several gruesome deaths with his teammates Hawkeye and Black Widow, they discover that something large and arachnoidian is terrorising New York. 'Pool follows some clues, and that cute brunet guy who keeps turning up, and finds himself at the spinneret ends of the elusive spider monster. But is he actually a monster, or is there more to his story?"

Babe Wake Up, It's Pumpkin Spice Season by X_Gon_Give_It

Explicit. 7,460 words. "He glances over the thick black lettering above the picture (SPIDER-MAN AND DEADPOOL: PARTNERS?) and focuses solely on Deadpool. The merc has two guns out in an exchange of bullets with a robber inside a bank. This wasn’t long ago. A week at most. Each shot had been calculated, the bullets never missing their mark, as the smell of smoke and gunpowder drifted  in the air, heavy enough to choke on. Peter roamed over the display of muscles covered by a body suit of spandex and leather. For someone who rarely exposed their skin, Deadpool’s suit had a way of accenting every inch of his body. His steady posture didn’t help. Or those rolling shoulders. His large hands. Again, the feeling stirs in Peter’s gut, more insistently. Urging."

Wade Wilson's Guide to Studying Your Spider by X_Gon_Give_It

Explicit. 114,210 words. Warning for graphic depictions of violence. Content warning, read tags. "After months of working with Spider-Man, Wade Wilson realizes there are a lot more to his hero's powers than meets the eye..." (AKA) "The one where Wade notices that Spider-Man has been acting weirder and weirder, and the more he looks into it, the more he realizes that his not-so-normal partner in crime(fighting) is a lot stranger than he thought."

Hurting, Loving by bubblebeezey

Explicit. 12,454 words. Warning for graphic depictions of violence. Incomplete, last updated in June 2024. "Peter Parker finds himself deathly injured alone in his apartment, and in a panic, calls Wade Wilson. Peter's identity gets revealed under some not-so-nice circumstances, but everything is worth it in the end. Hurt and comfort ensues. (And romance, of course)."

you're goodness; i'm what's in between by strawberxi (Tupipsie)

Explicit. 7,416 words. "“I love you, Wade,” Peter stated, said so casually that one might have assumed they were dating. He said them like they were fact– and Peter supposed they were, if he was making proper sense of his feelings. Wade just stilled. Peter didn't move, and his heart sunk deep into his stomach. Even then he couldn't take the words back, and he didn't want to. - a spideypool getting together fic"

Soup and steam - an earthquake waiting to happen by pandafish

Explicit. 9,219 words. "The worst thing about having the flu when you were essentially half spider was that the fever became like ten times worse. No, scratch that. The worst thing was looking out your window and seeing Deadpool sitting there like an oversized cat, eagerly asking if Peter could come out and play, and wanting nothing but to beg him to come inside and care for his sick friend-lover-vigilante partner. But how could Peter do that when they were supposed to be simply fucking for stress relief, not actually stick around for the truly intimate parts?"

Good Enough (To Be Good To Yourself) by jackmischief

Explicit. 221,082 words. Content warning, read tags and chapter notes. "Peter meets Deadpool when he’s in his civvies, and has the good fortune of remaining unrecognized. But with a friend like Deadpool — and his interesting habit of trying to feed his good buddy Spider-Man — he finds it hard to be too worried. When Deadpool winds up coincidentally finding Peter a second and third time, the merc gets attached to the cute brunet. Meanwhile, Spider-Man and Deadpool are a crime fighting duo tackling strange activity on the docks with suspicious ties to an all too familiar organization. A fluffy, angsty, eventually smutty Spideypool romp with an identity reveal endgame and regular updates on Mondays and Fridays. Rating and tags reflect entire fic. Smut starts at chapter 9."

Spider2703 by kingdomclouds

Explicit. 31,166 words. Warning for graphic depictions of violence. Content warning for brainwashed/tortured Peter. There is a sequel. ""When did they get you?" "I was- Peter Parker was 16 when he went missing. Spider turned 24 when he was born." The words come out robotic, practice making the sentence flow quickly and easily. Wade's hand tightens on his neck before it loosens and let's go completely. "So your name is Peter?" Spider shakes his head harshly and pretends his eyes aren't watering- soldiers don't cry. Wade keeps his grip tight on his jaw, ignoring the mess of venom getting all over his palms. "My name is Spider, serial number 2703." "They've really got you brainwashed, haven't they?" "I'm not brainwashed. Spider is my name. Peter Parker doesn't exist." Spider looks away from Wade's gaze- he can't help it. Those eyes can see right through him. --- Or; Peter was apart of the Weapon X program, like Wade- except he never left."

Medium Rare by MargaretKire

Explicit. 24,562 words. Vampire au. Content warning for everything (spidery) vampirism entails. "Peter just can't get full lately. He eats and eats, but he's constantly exhausted and hungry. Wade realizes what's going on before Peter does. And becomes obsessed with getting Peter what he needs- living cells in the form of blood and...other things."

So No One Told You Life Was Gonna Be This Way by Jenetica

Explicit. 32,894 words. Content warning, see tags and chapter descriptions. "Peter Parker's life doesn't need an influx of new, distinctly spidery Spider-Man powers. He would gladly spend the rest of his days not creating tiny spiders from nowhere, for example. Like, in a, "yes please, I'll take two orders of the 'no spider-parenthood lifestyle,' hold the whip" kind of way. And that's only the start of how certifiably nuts his life has gotten lately. But... okay, the spiders are pretty cute. And the other powers, well, aren't horrible. He supposes. And if Deadpool seems to think his new spidery skills are great and interesting and hot (which is weird, but not as objectionable as Peter would expect), that's... that's not so horrible, either. Alternatively: Peter's powers are a joke, he's broke, and his love life... isn't all that DOA."

Tiny Entanglements by MargaretKire

Explicit. 6,875 words. Content warning, see tags. More Spiders-Man then Spider-Man. "Spider-Man has some hidden desires. So does Deadpool. Things get complicated when Morbius claims to have a cure for Peter’s ‘impure’ DNA. Or: Three thousand spiders in a suit fall in love with Wade Wilson. Featuring: Spider interludes"

Weaver of Silk and Dreams by a_stands_for

Mature with explicit chapter. 73,831 words. More ships with Peter than spideypool, see tags. "Some alternate realities are unrecognizable, and some are indistinguishable. This one lies somewhere in between. Peter Parker's life was derailed when he mutated into a strange human/spider hybrid, and he knows that's not the way things went down for him in other realities. Still, he's determined to forge a new path and make the best of it. Sometimes "the friends we made along the way" really is the greatest treasure anyone could ask for."

Strange by smellslikecitrus

Mature with explicit chapter. 34,900 words. Fairy au. "Peter was just trying his best, as a spider fairy would do. Wade stole Ant-Man's suit during a week-long mission in Massachusetts, deciding to see just how big the forest looks at ground height. Wade accidentally discovers fae creatures in said forest. Cue the title."

He is Soundless From Afar. by elastic honey (infernoconcealed)

Explicit. 15,961 words. Content warning, see tags. "Three part story. 100% based on teamup comics. Every time Deadpools wants to kiss him, Peter's spideysense starts going off. He should hate Wade for killing him. He should swing away and never see him again after what he did. Instead, he starts getting drunk off the feeling."

atlas by a_cry_in_the_wilderness

Explicit. 3,143 words. Warning for graphic depictions of violence. Content warning, see tags. "The first time that Wade tells Spider-man that he’s beautiful, the hero laughs in a way that makes Wade realize that there’s a wound that he’s accidentally brushed against. It’s too late to stop the bleeding, but he tries to compress it anyway. Peter Parker alludes to not looking how Wade expects underneath the mask leading Wade down a spiral reflecting on his own insecurities and expectations."

Cicatrices by WaterMe

Explicit. 9,036 words. Warning for graphic depictions of violence. Content warning, see tags. "Spider-Man is falling apart. Deadpool knows how to put a broken thing back together. (also they fuck a lot)"

hit me with your kill shot, baby by Anonymous

Explicit. 6,613 words. Summary is a mature excerpt. See notes: "Peter going feral with spidey traits during sex."

-----

That's the list... for now. Give me a good ol' bonk if I missed info or cws on any of em, and feel free to give me more to add! Enjoy. Thank you to @disconnected-penguin and @enby-spite for your help!

[hairstevington]

Stranger Therapy

Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

Summary: Based on this text post, Steve and Eddie match on Tinder and decide to go to couple's counseling on a first date to see how long it takes the therapist (Murray) to figure them out. Link to Ao3

Word Count: 3K, check out part 2 part 3 part 4 and epilogue!

Warnings: Nothing too serious, Steve/Eddie went to high school together but don't know each other, modern day AU, aged up, brief Robin cameo, Matchmaker Murray, and my fav tag of all - gay scheming!

A/N: I'm a counselor in training currently but I don't specialize in couple's counseling so this may or may not be accurate? Idk man it's just fun and silly I love our stupid boys sm. Original post by @hxneyfarms

It’s a match!

“Robin, it worked!” Steve shouted from the couch. She ran from the kitchen and joined him, peering over to stare at his screen.

“I told you it would! It’s funny!” she insisted. Steve rolled his eyes and anxiously pulled up the profile of his new match. 

“Oh, shit,” Steve said. “I remember swiping right on this guy. Didn’t think I had a shot.” He looked through the pictures. They were all candids, slightly blurry, or shots of him with his friends, but due to his distinguished look it was easy to pick him out even in a crowd. 

“Show me his bio,” Robin ordered. Steve closed out the pictures and scrolled until the bio was in full view.

Eddie, 25. Shit at bios.

“Well that’s kind of boring,” Steve said. 

“Yeah. You think he’s a bot?” Robin asked.

 “Or a catfish, maybe,” Steve mused. “Either way, I still think I should take your joke down. I don’t talk like that in real life, and people might get confused.”

Robin had convinced him earlier to change his bio and replace it with - let’s go to couple’s counseling and see how long it takes the therapist to realize we don’t know each other. Steve had been a little tipsy when he agreed, and he assumed nothing would come of it. But then, Eddie matched with him. 

“You’re thinking way too hard about this, Dingus,” Robin replied. “People write weird shit in their Tinder bios all the time.” 

“Eddie didn’t,” Steve countered. 

“Yeah, but look at him,” Robin responded. “He’s distinctive. It’s attention-grabbing in itself.”

“And I’m not?” Steve asked. Robin chuckled.

“You’re the kind of pretty where if you don’t have something witty in the bio, people will think you’re just some ignorant surface-level airhead who’s never worked a day in his life, and that’s not cute.”

“Okay, ouch,” Steve said. 

“It’s a compliment!” she insisted. “Like, you need to show that you’re witty and funny and able to poke fun at yourself, otherwise you’re going to attract the wrong kind of people.”

“And this guy’s the right kind, huh?” Steve opened one of the pictures back up - one where Eddie was passed out on the couch with a beer still in his hand. As they looked at the screen, a notification popped up. Eddie sent you a message.

“Let’s find out,” Robin said. 

-

Eddie: If your bio is serious, I’m in

Steve: Wait, really?

Eddie: Yeah xD sounds fun

Eddie: You got a therapist in mind?

Steve: Honestly didn’t think I’d get this far

Eddie: Boo. 

Eddie: You’re lucky I know just the guy

Steve: Okay…

Steve: So how do we do this?

Eddie: Dude, it was YOUR idea

Steve: Ok but I’ve never done it before!

Eddie: Steve! I’m your first? <3

Steve: Yeah, yeah. I’ve never pranked a therapist before. 

Eddie: I hope you’re either rich or have really good insurance. Otherwise this is gonna be an expensive first date.

Steve: I got it covered. 

Eddie: I figured you did. I’ll call the guy in the morning and get back to you with the appointment time. 

Steve: Okay. How’s your night going by the way?

Eddie: Nope!

Eddie: That’s not part of the deal, Steve. We go into this blind or not at all.

Steve: This is insane.

Eddie: Once again, your idea. I’m excited. Are you excited?

Steve: Thrilled.

Steve: I’m still concerned about how you know the perfect guy for this.

Eddie: 😛

Eddie: Don’t worry about it.

-

“I don’t even think he’s serious,” Steve said after he recounted the entire interaction to Robin.

“I don’t know, Steve. Sounds serious to me.” 

“What if he’s like - not right in the head?” Steve wondered, reading the interaction over and over again. “Like, who is this therapist and why does he know him? Is he actually going to make an appointment? What if this whole thing crashes and burns?”

“I honestly think he plans on it crashing and burning,” Robin replied. “And then after, the both of you either hit it off and laugh about it forever, or you have an amazing failed date story to tell your friends until the end of time.”

“That’s…actually genius.” 

“I know.” 

Steve read the messages one last time, focusing on the bits where Eddie was mildly flirtatious. Steve! I’m your first? He could tell if Eddie was being condescending, or what vibe he was going to bring to this absolute insane first date. But, as Robin said, it would be a story no matter what. 

He tried to focus on that and not the anxiety that started brewing in his veins.

-

The appointment was set for two weeks later. Eddie still refused to talk to Steve other than for details on where to go and at what time, so for the whole fourteen days, Steve assumed he was being pranked right back. Eddie was messing with him, or he’d cancel, or Dr. Bauman didn’t actually exist, or he’d be murdered, or, or, or -

None of that happened. Instead, on a Tuesday afternoon, Steve pulled up to an office building about fifteen minutes from his apartment. He’d passed by it several times and never once wondered what went on inside. 

Apparently, really weird first dates.

They had decided to meet up in the parking lot and walk in together. The whole thing was crazy, but having one of them pick the other up so they could drive in together was way over what was needed to commit to the bit. 

Steve got there first. They needed to be fifteen minutes early to fill out paperwork. It was twenty minutes prior to their appointment time. 

This was weird. It felt a lot different than all the times he’d met someone for coffee. In another world, that’s how he and Eddie would have met. But no. He had to agree to this stupid thing, and now he was too far into it to back out. Jesus Christ. 

Eddie’s car pulled in a few spaces down. Steve knew it was him from the hair alone - unmistakable. He got out of his car and walked towards his date, his palms sweaty. Eddie got out of his car a moment later, eyeing Steve as he approached him and smirking. 

“What gave me away?” Eddie asked. 

“You think I wouldn’t recognize my boyfriend?” Steve snapped back, pleased at the way he was able to take Eddie off guard. 

“Touche. Well, come on, then. Let’s do this.” 

-

Before they knew it, they were sitting in a cramped waiting room, alone, filling out paperwork. It consisted of insurance information first, followed by names and some quick background questions about the “couple.” Steve began filling it out, thankful that he was still on his dad’s fancy rich-person insurance. It covered basically everything, even fucked-up couples fraud with Dr. Bauman.

“Are you not worried I’m gonna, like, steal your information or something?” Eddie asked as Steve wrote down his policy number.

“I mean…should I be?” Steve responded. 

“No,” Eddie answered with a shrug. “I gotta say, though, you’re way more trusting than I am. It’s ballsy. I like it.” 

“Uhh…” Steve was trying to concentrate on the paperwork, but the compliment was throwing him off. “Thank you, I think.” He continued filling out the paperwork.

“You’re from Hawkins?” he asked. Steve nodded, absentmindedly. “I’m from Hawkins.” This caught Steve’s attention. 

“No shit.” 

“Yeah, seriously.”

“Small world,” Steve replied before turning his attention back to the form.

“You have a cute middle name,” Eddie teased. 

“Shut up,” Steve responded. He wanted to find Eddie’s pestering annoying, but instead he found himself smirking, even giggling a little bit. This whole thing was so ridiculous. He shoved the clipboard onto Eddie’s lap. “Your turn, lover.”

“Euch,” Eddie groaned. “That is not one of our pet names, no way.” 

“Noted,” Steve chuckled. He was…kind of enjoying this way more than he expected, as weird as it was. He’d grown accustomed to a lot of even stranger things in his life, so this didn’t feel as shocking as he’d initially thought. 

“Don’t look,” Eddie said as he covered the paper.

“What? Why not?” Steve asked, confused. 

“Because not all of us are as blindly trusting, Steven,” Eddie responded. Steve shook his head and looked away. 

“Good thing we’re in therapy to work that shit out, Edward Munson.”

“You looked!” Eddie exclaimed. 

“It was right in front of me!” Steve pointed out. 

“Fair enough,” Eddie sighed. “Okay, now we gotta put down a reason for doing this.”

-

Fast forward ten minutes, Eddie and Steve were seated next to each other on a relatively small but cozy burnt orange couch. The color was ugly, but the seats were comfortable. Steve noticed the cushions had a natural dip that kept inching him closer to the person sitting on the opposite side. He figured this was certainly intentional. 

The doctor sat in front of them, reviewing the papers the pair had just filled out.

“Hello, my name is Dr. Bauman, and one day I may let you call me Murray,” he began, his eyes fixed on the papers in front of him. “I see here on your sheet that you’ve been feeling distant from each other, and that you’re looking to feel more connected, right? Can you tell me more about that?”

“We’re just launching right into it, huh?” Eddie asked. 

“Well, we are on a time crunch here. Your decision how you spend it,” Dr. Bauman answered. 

The man was immediately intimidating.

“Ooookay,” Steve said, taking a deep breath. “Yeah, I guess it just feels like - like he and I don’t even know each other anymore.” Eddie stifled a laugh, covering his mouth with his hand to make it seem like he was maybe getting emotional or perhaps trying not to sneeze. 

“I see,” Dr. Bauman said, eyeing them both suspiciously. “Let’s begin with how you two met and we’ll go from there, okay?”

“We were high school sweethearts,” Eddie replied with a grin.

“Wow,” Dr. Bauman commented. “Well, it’s common for a lot of development to happen from then to now. How did you two get together?” Eddie looked to Steve, as if to say, you’re up.

“It just kinda…happened, I guess,” Steve began. “We were assigned as partners for a project and really clicked.”

“Yeah, and then we snuck around for a while. Sneaking kisses in janitor's closets and empty classrooms, you know the drill.” Steve tried not to blush at the thought of sneaking around with high school Eddie. If they were both from Hawkins, did they actually go to high school together?

“Snuck around for the thrill?” Dr. Bauman asked.

“No,” Steve responded. “I wasn’t out yet.” Eddie looked at him curiously, as if he wasn’t expecting Steve to say something so serious. He wondered if it was actually true. 

“Well, that and -” Eddie added. “- he was a popular jock and I was kind of a freak.” This time, Steve looked at Eddie curiously. Steve was a popular jock. Eddie could have assumed that, or made a lucky guess, but something told him that wasn’t the case. 

Eddie Munson. Munson. 

Oh.

Oh!

It took Steve a minute to recover from that information. They did in fact go to school together, they just had never interacted. Eddie obviously remembered, and he obviously knew that Steve didn’t. So what was the goal here? Was Steve being punked or something just so Eddie could get free therapy?

“Steve, you look a little pale there,” Dr. Bauman noticed. “Did that trigger something?”

“Yeah -” Steve croaked, now unable to look at Eddie. If he had, he would have noticed Eddie didn’t look as smug as Steve assumed he was. “Yeah, I just don’t think about high school that much anymore.”

“Why not?” the doctor asked. 

“Because, I - I’ve changed so much since then. I’m not that guy anymore, and I don’t want to be that guy.”

“Ah, I see,” he hummed. “So, Eddie fell for someone who no longer exists. I think I’m understanding the problem here. Eddie, do you feel that you’ve changed?”

Damn. This guy’s kinda good.

“Uhhh -” Eddie began. Neither of them expected this to get so serious so quickly. It didn’t even feel like it was about their imagined relationship anymore. “N-no, I don’t think I have.”

“And Steve, do you think Eddie has changed?”

Steve thought about the limited memories he had of Eddie in high school. Cocky, slightly unhinged, just as he was now. But there was something different, he just couldn’t really pinpoint what. Maybe if he’d talked to Eddie for longer than like ten minutes total in his life, he’d have a better idea. 

Then, he realized the point of this wasn’t to be serious. It was to make shit up. Steve pivoted back to the original plan. 

“Yeah, I mean -” He shifted in his seat, finding himself now thigh to thigh with Eddie, despite not meaning to be. “He’s, uh - it just feels like we don’t have anything in common anymore?” It was something he’d heard lots of couples say.

“Do you want to make this work?” Dr. Bauman asked. 

“Why else would we be here?” Eddie answered. Dr. Bauman narrowed his eyes. 

“You tell me.”

Eddie and Steve were kind of not good at this. Their story was based in truth and not very exciting. They both seemed to realize this at the same time.

“Steve slept with the dogwalker,” Eddie proclaimed. Steve scoffed, half-amused, half-offended. 

“Yeah, well you sold drugs to my mom!” he shot back. The two guys looked at each other, pretending to look angry while simultaneously wanting to laugh. 

“Woooah, there,” Dr. Bauman responded. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Do we want to begin with Steve’s infidelity or Eddie’s illegal activity?”

“That’s not gonna, like, go on record or anything, right?” Steve asked, suddenly anxious. “Like, the cops aren’t gonna show up at Eddie’s door?”

“Our door, babe,” Eddie clarified, not the least bit nervous. 

“Depends on how long ago this happened, I suppose,” Dr. Bauman answered.

“Long time ago,” Eddie said. 

“Are you still currently dealing?”

“No, I don’t even do drugs anymore. Well, like, except pot - but that’s legal now so it doesn’t really count, I think.”

“Dude,” Steve whispered. 

“You brought it up,” Eddie replied just as softly. 

“Right,” Dr. Bauman responded, taking it all in. “No report needed, then. Let’s move onto the dogwalker.” 

They continued to add to their lore as the appointment went on. At one point, Eddie even faked tears. His acting was…decent enough to avoid suspicion, thankfully. When the clock hit 1:45, their time was up, and they’d successfully managed to fool Dr. Bauman. Mission accomplished, date over. Right?

“Well, thank you so much, Dr. Bauman,” Eddie said. “I think you’ve really helped us out today.”

“Yeah, seriously,” Steve said, smiling. “We feel so much better.”

“Now hold on a minute,” Dr. Bauman said with his hands up. “There’s still a lot of work to be done, in my professional opinion.”

“There is?” Eddie asked, confused. 

“Oh, definitely. Most couples go to a minimum of four sessions, and that’s still a low average. Plus, this was only intake. I mean, unless you guys weren’t happy with the counseling I gave you today…”

It felt like a challenge, and Eddie loved challenges. Meanwhile, Steve was too awkward to come clean or tell the doctor they weren’t interested. 

They made another appointment.

-

“Well, that went pretty well, I think,” Eddie said as they left the building. 

“You knew me already?” Steve asked once they were a safe enough distance from the office and Dr. Bauman. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I just knew your name and face, man. And, like, your vibe,” Eddie answered. “Back in high school, anyway.” 

“You should have told me,” Steve said. 

“You should have remembered,” Eddie shot back. “Whatever, it was fun. Right?”

“Eddie, I have no idea what that was,” Steve replied. “We have to cancel that appointment.”

“Why? You don’t want to see me again?” Eddie grinned. Steve rolled his eyes.

“No, I - I mean, I don’t want to waste his time. That spot should go to other couples who need it. Meanwhile, we could go get coffee like normal adults.” 

“I dunno,” Eddie said, kicking a pebble in the road as they walked. “I kinda liked it. You can’t tell me you didn’t.”

It was true. Steve couldn’t say that he didn’t.

“Doesn’t matter.” Steve unlocked his car and made his way to the door. “We’re canceling.”

“He’s the one that wanted to see us again, Steve,” Eddie reminded him. 

“Yeah, because he thought we were an actual couple.” Steve was getting frustrated at Eddie’s antics, and the way he refused to back down. “I don’t know if this is gonna work, man. This has been, uh - well, it’s been weird, but I think -”

“We have to go, otherwise you’ll be charged a cancellation fee,” Eddie blurted out. It was a lie, a bold-faced lie, and yet -

“So, I’ll pay the fee. Can’t be more than the cost of a full session,” Steve figured. 

“Ugh!” Eddie groaned in frustration. “Okay, fine. Look - I’m annoying as hell, I’m a mess, I’m broke, and I could never afford someone like Dr. Bauman. I don’t know about you, but some of the things he said actually made me think and I kind of want to ask him about, like, real shit.” 

Steve stared at him blankly for a minute. 

“You - you want me to keep going to fake couple’s counseling with you so you can get actual therapy?” Steve asked, stunned. 

“I mean, you could work your shit out, too,” Eddie suggested.

“What shit? I don’t have shit,” Steve insisted. 

“Of course you do! Everyone does!” Eddie yelled. 

“You’re insane,” Steve muttered. The thing was, he wasn’t saying it out of anger. He was saying it in understanding. 

Because the thing was, Eddie had a point. Dr. Bauman was good at what he did, and Steve knew he’d never sign up for individual counseling. He already had the appointment. Eddie smirked. 

“You’re with me, aren’t you?”

Fuck.

“Fine,” Steve agreed. 

-

Notes from Dr. Bauman - 3/18

Eddie and Steve

Together since high school

Feelings of disconnect

Steve/dogwalker

Eddie/mom/drugs

Clearly lying

Clients are faking their relationship for me, for some reason. Will continue to work with them to figure out why. 

They aren’t dating…but they should be

(next chapter)

------------------------------------

@ofherscarlettwitchways @livvyshmiv @paintballkid711 @abraca-fxckyou @allbimyself26 @jellybabiesforall @allbymyselfexceptformycactus @justaloadofgarbage-blog @alliemunsonsstuff @undreamingscatworld @thefruityfours @hobbitnarwhal @calivanus @wreckmyplans-thatsmyman @antheia @goodolefashionedloverboi @lillemilly @missmagillicuddy @steviesbicrisis @gamerdano @menamesniall @eyeslikewildflowers111 @callmesirkay @stringischeese @eds-trashmouth @mnl-enuh @redfreckledwolf @itsanarrum @soulsofstarsliveinyourveins @gregre369 @stevesbipanic @momotonescreaming @aryakanojiaa @wrenisflying @comicmadlover @lilacrobin @itch-my-b0nez @anonymousbandgirl @disastardly @Dang_Dirty_Demons @daisyellsong @val-from-lawrence @starryeyedpoet17 @taikawaiteatea @samthemissfit @chaoticvictorianspirit @elizbaehth @despoenaandpyromania @bagofgreentea

[theforestghost]

MegOP Week 2024 Day 4

Day 1: Peace Fandom: Transformers Animated Prompt: Optimus is the reincarnation of the 13th but does not know it. Rating: G

Optimus stirred slightly, recharge lingering in his frame as his optics slowly came online. The room he was in was dark, a low purple glow from the ceiling lights giving away nothing but shadows. Beside him, Megatron remained deep in his own recharge, large engines purring in a familiar hum that nearly lulled Optimus right back under. He resisted however, moving his helm to look up at the mech he was comfortably laying against. 

Megatron laid on his back kibble, one arm under Optimus’ helm as a pillow and the other laid across his waist like a weighted blanket that he knew from experience he could not move. In fact, this weighted blanket had a habit of holding him tighter whenever he tried to move too early in the day cycle. Optimus didn’t mind though; he loved these domestic starts to his solar cycle. Megatron clearly didn’t mind either since the large warlord always grumbled about Optimus waking far too early and dragging him back into a cuddle session until mid cycle at least. 

Optimus turned to face Megatron and carefully moved his servo to the other’s helm, gently tracing over the features with a barely there touch. Despite how much Megatron enjoyed waking late, the warlord was a surprisingly light recharger and would awaken at the slightest jostle. So Optimus had picked up a habit of quietly admiring his lover during these early cycles, watching his slumbering faceplate and sometimes daring to run a digit along his frame. It was therapeutic in a way. 

Optimus didn’t understand why he found such solace in Megatron. Just a couple of stellar cycles ago, the two of them were at each others throat cables. Their only goal had been to defeat the other and in the end, Optimus had succeeded in capturing Megatron. Not like it had actually lasted long since the moment his trial was held, Megatron was free and just vorns later, Optimus had been captured by him instead. Though he did have Ultra Magnus to thank for that loss. His assault on the Decepticons had hit Optimus as well and Megatron had taken advantage of the attack to capture Optimus. Things had gone by quickly after that.

Optimus had eventually defected, becoming Megatron’s new strategist. They’d restarted their assault on Cybertron, specifically in Iacon where Optimus was caught by Alpha Trion and told about his identity as the reincarnation of Thirteen. Optimus hadn’t believed the old mech until he’d had the Matrix of Leadership forced into his spark chamber and recalled every single memory of the mech. His inner turmoil over that had been stressful to every bot around him and eventually Megatron managed to remove the Matrix and free him. Optimus still had the memories of Thirteen but was no longer under the influence of his “siblings”.

A large and warm servo came and rested on the back of Optimus’ helm, making him look up at Megatron who watched him with warm crimson optics. Optimus let his own servo rest against his cheekplate in turn, smiling up at his lover who hugged him close. 

“What has woken you so early?” Megatron mused, his tone soft and hushed, thick with recharge. Megatron began stroking along his back struts with his free servo and Optimus let out a soft purr at the feeling.

“Nothing important.” Optimus said, laying his helm against the side of Megatron’s chassis.

“Your field says otherwise.” Megatron replied.

Optimus scowled slightly before letting out a soft ex-vent. “I recalled the time I had with the Matrix,” he explained. “It’s hard to believe that you removed it just two solar cycles ago. I still feel so raw…”

“I would think you would.” Megatron said. He gently pressed his field again Optimus, letting it embrace the younger mech in a way Megatron knew he enjoyed immensely. “The artifact is one of great power and whatever or whomever is inside put a great deal of stress on you, both physically and mentally. I would be more surprised if you did not feel raw.”

Optimus said nothing, just buried his faceplate into Megatron even more. The warlord turned his frame to face Optimus, embracing the smaller mech completely. Optimus was a cuddler and Megatron knew he found great comfort in touch and affection. Something Megatron himself had no issues in offering to his little one whenever he needed it.

“Can you stay here with me?” Optimus muttered against Megatron.

“I do not see why not.” Megatron hummed, resuming his stroking of Optimus’ back struts with his digits. 

He enjoyed peaceful day cycles like this.

[cozzzynook]

IM GETTING ANYTHING I CAN TAKE 🙏🙏

shockbee or bee x elite trine?? pls. 🙏

I’d tip you but I don’t got money 😞 but your writing is so awesome!!!!!!!

Thank you so much 😭 i appreciate you i really do 😭

Small headcanon time-

Bee is most comfortable flying with Thundercracker because he never really shows off too much and always holds him the tightest out of the three. Up there Thundercracker feels like the war can’t touch them, he can think thoughts of poetry and ideas about plays aloud to bee who he knows won’t judge him. Up in the sky at night is when they mostly fly together and its up there they feel at peace and one with the stars.

Bee loves to warp with Skywarp. He enjoys the rush and loves to see the wicked grin on Skywarps face when they prank a bot and make a hasty retreat that none of the others can follow. They enjoy pranking others together and its really become their private thing that helps them both bond and speak on trauma they otherwise wouldn’t feel comfortable sharing.

Out of all three seekers Bee has known starscream the longest. Its oddly easiest for the two to connect and share problems using crude humor and words while softly touching the other with a displeased expression on their face plates. Bots outside the trine think they get along the least and that Bee made a huge mistake spark bonding to all three mechs but in all honesty Bee is closest to Star and Star is closest to Bee. Star likes to tease them about it within reason but when he does Bee pulls at his wing.

—

Shockbee tfa moment where Bee knew Longarm was Shockwave but he learned by accident.

Shockwave didn’t offline Bee because they knew each other during the war. Bee wasn’t in the war and he’s far older than the other bots think.

He dodged the draft like Prowl did but it was because he was half seeker half grounder and sparklings from such pairings were offlined even if they weren’t decepticons.

They met during battle when an autobot bomb went off even though civilians were still present and it crushed Bee’s wings leaving him stuck in too much pain to move.

Shockwave had a moment of compassion and brought Bee and his destroyed wings to his lab where he repaired Bee.

He gave Bee the ability to hide his wings by retracting them. He also fixed his horns but they would be painfully sensitive and Bee would have to keep others from touching them.

Shockwave admired how the mini could go from cocky jokes to being a sweet spark. He may have even tried coaxing bee into becoming a decepticon or staying with him.

Bee didn’t accept joining but he did stay with him for quite some time.

They were a shocking couple to those who saw them. Bee was hyper and a brat but somehow sweet and thoughtful, such a lil cutie really while Shockwave was terrifying and a cryptid that scared even Megatron at times.

Bee knew Shockwave was like this and he wasn’t naive enough to try and change him. All he asked was that he never touched innocent bots unless provoked.

Shockwave could agree with that and Bee was happy with it.

Of course they merged sparks but not long after they were separated because autobots infiltrated their hide out and Bee was literally ripped from Shockwave who was holding onto his neck and back cables during the retreat.

Since he didn’t have a brand the autobots figured he was captured especially since they saw Shockwave with him. Bee was able to play his fear of the autobots into fear of his “captured days.”

He was able to slip away during transfer and went looking for shelter and a way to contact Shockwave.

He wasn’t able to find safe shelter he could permanently stay at for years.

Bouncing from place to place with no shanix made him resort to working in shady places he would like to forget.

He lived like this for almost two million years until the autobots launched a “cleansing” that got rid of shady bots and used the others for their military.

He was able to escape once again but it came at a cost.

He caught the attention of a bot named Sentinel who frequented the bakery fueler he worked at.

The mech did not take no for an answer and often tried to corner him. He was thankful for his quick pedes and flexible frame but it could only do so much when the mech followed him to the run down half broken building he recharged at saying there was no record of him.

That got his spark thumping and his processor buzzing only to plummet when the mech said that could just be a systems error so long as he joined bot camp and helped service him.

Bee managed to get out of servicing the mech but he couldn’t get out of bot camp.

So they slapped a life cycle on his new record, gave him the designation B-127 and forced him into camp.

He did his best to get kicked out and keep Sentinel from having an interest in him but that was quickly ended when Wasp and Sentinel himself cornered him and taught him a lesson.

For a long time he just laid in berth in the medical bay recovering and missing his mate. There was one sweet bot he could be himself around and that was a bot named Bulkhead. He considered him a friend and even agreed to be enlisted as a space bridge technician since Bulkhead could tell he had no interest in being apart of the elite guard let alone fight for the autobots.

So when he’s released from the med bay and hears of a new bot joining that wants to he apart of the prime council he rolls his optics and decides it best to stay away from them. He waits for Bulkhead back in their barracks and falls into recharge knowing the next day would be long.

Its in the middle of the night cycle when every bot is in deep recharge does he feel himself be touched and he onlines quickly darting a servo out to punch the offending bot thinking he was on the streets again.

Only he’s met with the sight of a bot he’s never seen before. Teal, gray, white and black with an oddly familiar red orb on his helm above his optics.

He can’t help staring at it for longer than he knows is safe before realizing he wasn’t in the barracks and the bot was holding him close like he knew him.

“What the -”

He’s cut off by the mech smiling at him with a leaking optic.

His blue optics didn’t leak but the red orb above them did.

He watched mesmerized as the mech set him down so gently and he felt himself lean forward for that warmth he didn’t even realize seeped into his frame before watching the mech before him shift and change into the very mech his spark pulsed for.

“Shockwave!”

Bee didn’t know he could jump that high or move without even realizing but he did.

He wrapped his arms around Shockwave who wrapped him tight in a hug. His corrupted spark beating for the mech in his arms that he couldn’t bare to put down.

“I’m so sorry my love.”

“I’ve missed you, shocky.”

That nickname made the one opticed mech laugh and he nuzzled Bee as if to kiss him and Bee did it back before kissing his lower jaw.

“I didn’t know how to call you. I didn’t know how to get in contact with any of you without it alerting the autobots! Wait..Shocky what are you doing here?”

“Undercover my love. I took this mission to find you. I’d heard word of you being here and I came as soon as I could. I’m so sorry it took me so long to find you my dear but now that I’ve found you I’ll never let anyone bot come between us.”

His lone red optic glowed and Bee knew his mech did something terrible to the mech who separated them. But he couldn’t bring himself to care or want to know any of the details.

“I dodged the autobots for as long as i could but…”

“I’m proud of you my spark. You dodged for millions of years and they don’t know who you really are. I am so happy.”

Bee looked Shockwave in his optic and kissed him.

That led to Shockwave touching the tip of Bee’s horn which made Bee full frame shiver before they became a mess of slick and transfluid.

A carefully crafted note from Shockwave who posed as “Longarm,” and the two had a few days working somewhere else in the camp. They had far more private time and they were able to catch up on what they were doing during their time apart. Among other physical things that left Bee stuffed with a small belly and limping slightly. Nothing desk work couldn’t cover, even though he hated sitting for so long.

Their return to bot camp was far too soon but Shockwave was happy to know Bee would be out of danger when he graduated earlier than himself and the others.

Meeting the others wasn’t as bad as he thought it’d be. Optimus was definitely a carrier hen judging by the way he fussed over them and especially Bee himself. Ratchet was a grump but Bee could tell it was from the war leaving its mark and Prowl, well the silent mech seemed like he was in pain a lot so Bee didn’t really bother with him.

More than anything he just tried to stick with Bulkhead and occasionally mess with the other mechs with pranks but nothing serious. Oddly enough Prowl came around and pranked him back which he was completely surprised about but it was welcome.

He spent a lot of time on a personal datapad talking to Shockwave. He made sure to be alone and off ship in an open area to see any bot coming.

Things were going well until they landed on a rock where the space brushes malfunctioned and they found the All spark.

Bee didn’t have any time to try and tell Shockwave because a large familiar ship entered the atmosphere and Megatron came abroad ready to take it.

Of course they recognized each other and of course Bee played off being too terrified to move when Megatron grabbed him and the all spark.

When they were far away enough he told him where the ancient relic was hidden and that he better give him and Shockwave plenty of time alone after this.

Megatron gave him a little shake but rolled his optics in a manner that was almost fond.

“You’ll get your time yet little bee.”

Megatron was almost out of the ship with them both when Optimus came and took both the all spark and Bee back.

It happened way too fast for Bee.

One nano klik he was with Megatron about to be with his spark bonded the next his servo was out reached towards Megatron who was falling to his death.

Optimus brought Bee into a stasis pod where they spent fifty years in recharge.

The first thing Bee did when he onlined was purge his tanks. None of the other bots did and Ratchet assumed it was because of his run in with Megatron and processor shock.

Bee tried to scramble to find his data pad to call Shockwave but Ratchet wouldn’t let him leave the med bay and then they had to help a species called humans.

By the time things settled, it was a few days into their arrival on Earth and Bee waited until he was alone at night to call Shockwave.

The mech answered immediately and Bee broke down at the sight of him still in disguise.

Telling him everything that happened and delivering the news he knew would crush his spark bond.

None of the other bots bothered him when they saw he was on his data pad.

When he came back they assumed they would need to comfort him and that his mechfriend had moved on but when he said his mechfriend hadn’t they were more than surprised.

Bee really didn’t like calling his conjunx his mechfriend but he couldn’t arouse suspicion.

But his plans to keep things low were completely thwarted when the elite guard came down and with them was his spark, Shockwave.

Or should he say,

“Longarm.”

[renegadeer]

ill explain specifically why bots conversation with cabby + the way its portrayed is harmful. evil twitter thread to tumblr blog conversion time first off, AE potrays bot messing with cabby by lying to her for laughs. i understand iii is a childrens media and it would be fine under most context, but since cabby has memory disabilities and connects her self worth to the accuracy of her files, playing it as a joke feels cruel. bot isnt doing it to be cruel! bot doesnt know about cabby’s memory disability, but the tone of the show plays it off as though but isnt doing anything wrong when they are. plus, cabby’s intent when asking bot info about themselves is to precent herself from saying more things that could upset them in the future (her insensitive comment abt bot being a replica). she isnt writing the files or asking for info out of malice, she’s trying to use her memory aids to prevent herself from hurting other’s feelings in the future.

bot lying to her just feels cruel and unnecessary, since cabby isn’t trying to use the information in a way that would hurt them. bot’s reasoning for distrusting cabby’s is pointless. cabby needs accurate info and facts because otherwise she physically cant remember anything. cabby doesnt share files willy nilly either, she has only ever shared contestant files with test tube for the sake of the competition, but that would be the same thing as someone who didn’t have a memory disability sharing what they can remember abt a contestant verbally

but bot doesn’t let cabby use her memory aid, which cabby agrees to. it would have made more sense if bot just told cabby to keep the file private, which im sure cabby would have! the reason she elimed fan was bc he took a file without asking first, invading her privacy!

and this is the most dangerous message to send to someone with a memory disability. becuase oftentimes manipulators will prevent them from recording things that are said to them to more easily gaslight them later. im not saying bot is trying to do this, they arent, but its still a bad message to tell people with memory issues to not keep personal record of “private conversations”. keeping these records is how mentally disabled and physically disabled people keep themselves safe! not everyone in the world is a good, genuine person!

i don’t understand why the message AE seems to be sending is that cabby’s disability aid is a bad thing! its not a bad thing to keep records! its a good thing, actually, for disabled people to protect themselves! and cabby isn’t in danger in ii, but its still an unsafe message to send to say she shouldn’t keep records to keep her facts straight. ae tries to justify this by implying that the people around cabby are there to support her; but she shouldnt be told to stop protecting herself because she should trust she’s safe

This scene is framed as a heartwarming moment when its the most unsafe thing someone could say to a disabled person. If someone prevents you from using an aid and tells to rely on them instead, thats a RED FLAG. this is a common way for abusers to increase your dependance on them

IM NOT SAYING BOT IS AN ABUSER. BUT FRAMING THIS POSITIVELY IS UNSAFE. say im reading too much into a childrens media but for SOME CHILDREN THIS MIGHT BE THEIR FIRST EXPOSURE TO ANOTHER CHARACTER W MEMORY ISSUES!

at the end of the episode cabby leaves her file behind. HER DISABILITY AID BEHIND. why Is That the Moral You Want. Disability aids are so disabled people can be more independant. why are you using your disabled character have the “be more open and vulnerable” arc?? disabled people are already one of the most vulnerable minorities! do not push this idea to stop them from protecting themselves!

okay sorry guys end of my evil ramble. um. smile emoji. for the tumblrinas

[oleander-nin]

This is for the follower Special!

Rise Donnie

6. Jealousy

1. “Well that wasn’t very smart”

Romantic, maybe Reader is jealous because Donnie has intelligence for what they wanna be smart with

Idk I'm doin my best sifusufd

A/N, not important: Sorry if I made it too sad, I tried not to. This was very fun to write, and I liked it a lot. Thank you for participating in this special! Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

Tw: jealousy, feelings of not being enough, talking about your emotions, hand holding, bad writing, barely edited

Words: 2159

Prompt(s) requested: 6(Jealousy) & 1("Well That wasn't very smart.")

Summary: Donnie notices somethings wrong, leading to a small talk about your jealousy of his intelligence and your feelings of unworthiness.

The door to Donnie’s lab beeps once before the light turns green, notifying my allowed entrance. The door opens with a quiet hiss, my eyes admiring his lab in awe once more. I close my eyes, sighing. Everything in here was so… Advanced. It was incredible, Donnie had made things current scientists couldn’t even dream of. And he did it all on his own, no teachers, no mentors, just him. I couldn’t help the bite of jealousy in my stomach and I did nothing to stop the guilt that soon followed. Loving Donnie was easy, with his cocky attitude and his bright eyes. He was passionate, a true scientist. A Genius. He was so much better than me, and it killed me a little more every time because I knew I would never match up to him, never be able to stand on the same ground as the man I loved so dearly.

I sigh, moving further through his lab until I saw him at his computer, working his fingers off once more. I smiled sadly at the bags under his eyes, the fabric usually skewing them from view being set off to the side along with his goggles and wrappings. I move to sit in my usual chair next to him, watching as he works through his code. He glances at me, smiling softly before returning to his work. We both sit in silence for a while, the sound of his fingers typing and the ever present hum of the technology around us filling the empty space between us. It was nice, the familiarity of just existing by his side, no need for us to talk. We only needed to be near each other, and that was enough for us both.

“How long have you been up?” I ask softly, watching as the code flys across his screen, taking mental notes for my own projects later. I may never be on his level, but I could at least learn from him. He was brilliant and I was simply someone watching him succeed from the sidelines, hoping one day I could work alongside him. I’d leave the actual engineering to him though. I never did like building bots and such, coding them was much more fun.

He hums noncommittally, his fingers hesitating for only a second as he thinks. “Just since this morning. I need to get this done soon. I promise I’ll sleep once I’m finished, okay?” His voice is soft, his eyes not leaving the screen. I didn’t mind, this is how it always went. I wouldn’t want to stop either if I was him, if I could do the things he could do. My brain never made the right connections, the pieces never snapping into place. 

"Okay. As long as you promise. You know I worry." And worry I do, unable to think anything without constantly checking to make sure he was okay. He looks exhausted, his purple hoodie draping over him, the sleeves bagging at his elbows from his pose. His hood was up, most likely to try and muffle the sounds of his lab. His legs were crossed in his gaming chair, his back hunched even more than usual. I wondered how his back could even stand it, how his posture was so good otherwise. Maybe the curve of his shell just made it easier to manage. I’d have to ask him later, when it wasn’t so late. When he wasn’t so busy.

A line of code I didn’t recognize catches my eye, a call I couldn’t figure out. My eyes scan the screen as I lean on his desk, my eyes scan his computer, trying to decipher the line's purpose. My eyes narrow as I frown, unable to make the proper connections in my brain to understand it. I grumble a bit, pointing at the line. Donnie stops for a moment, looking at me. He was always ready to explain, ready to waste his time on talking me through something he found so simple, something that was as natural to him as breathing. He waits patiently for me to ask my question and I can’t help but feel like I was proving how beneath him I was, proving how every thought my mind made up was true. “What does this part do?”

I listened intently to his explanation, my head resting in my arms on his desk, curled up in the chair that was almost solely occupied by me. His explanation was clear, scrolling though his hundreds of lines of code to show me what parts it tied back to, talking of the parts he needed to add to make it completely smooth. My mouth was set in a smile, admiring his passion for the science of it. I ignored the pang in my chest, ignored the way my heart craved to be the same, to be able to match his intelligence. Even if just for a day.

“I wish I could do this as well as you.” I say, my voice is quiet due to the time. It was late at night, when my visits usually were. Donnie would text and I would show up, never wanting to miss a moment I could spend by his side. Donnie glances at me, his fingers finally leaving his keyboard as he turns his chair so he could face me. I sit up a bit, my elbow off the desk as I set my hands in my lap. Donnie scans my face, his lips pressed into a line. I scan his back, trying to decipher what he was thinking, to take a look inside his head. Maybe he was trying the same, to try and look into my thoughts, to read me without needing to ask for clarification. Unfortunately for us both, we couldn’t read each other's mind, couldn’t dive into the deep abyss that was our subconscious without taking the time to ask.

“What do you mean? You’re getting so much better at coding and I thought I was helping. Did something happen?” His eyes hold a kindness I never understood, one that should have never been directed at me. I couldn’t help but feel as if he would be better off with someone more on his level, someone who could match him pace for pace. Donnie was the brightest star in the night and I was just a mirror, stealing his light and passing it off as my own. I wanted nothing more than to be like him, my fingers itched to code the way he did. So seamlessly, completely flawless. Most of it had been from years of practice, but the way his brain just… Clicked with the code. It made me all the more envious. 

I shrink slightly, his words weighing me down. I didn’t want to feel this way, not about him. It wasn’t fair. I should be nothing less than ecstatic towards everything he does. There shouldn’t be this disconnect in my brain, it was all so straight forward. He was my boyfriend, my best friend, and my favorite person in the world. I hated feeling jealous because I wasn’t mad about his success, I was just… I wanted it for myself, to be able to have it with him. I wanted to be just like him. “No no no no no, of course you’re helping! I just… I’m not progressing very fast.”

“Of course you’re not. This stuff takes time dum dum. You can’t rush this.” His tone is very matter of factly, his smile wide as he relays the information. His eyes scan me once more, pupils shrinking as they narrow. His fingers tap on his desk, my body shrinking under his unrelenting stare. “Something’s wrong. Spill. According to Mikey, communication is key to all relationships and I’m not letting you leave until you talk.”

I huff slightly and he just raises an eyebrow muscle, waiting for me to talk. I run my fingers through my hair, slumping back in the seat. Knowing it would be pointless to lie or argue, I spill the beans. “I have been a bit… Jealous of you lately.” I admit, not meeting his eyes. Donnie waves his hand in a circular motion, prompting me to continue. “You’re so much smarter than me and it’s just… I can’t help thinking about how you’d leave me for someone more on your level. I just want to be as smart as you, but I’m not.”

“And you didn’t come to me with this, why exactly?” He asks, his arms crossed over his chest. I pat my thighs awkwardly, still not meeting his gaze. He was upset, that was obvious, but I didn’t know how to explain my feelings in a way that would make it all go away. I wanted nothing more than to be normal about his success and not have so much jealousy over his accomplishments, but the feeling remained.

“I uh… I thought you’d get mad, and I didn’t want to risk losing you over some stupid way I felt.” I admit, rubbing the back of my neck. I stare at the floor, rocking the chair back and forth to try and let off some of the energy coursing through me. My fingers danced across my legs, tapping out nonsensical rhythms to accompany my shame.

“Well that wasn’t a very smart way to think.”

I look up at him, his eyes still narrowed at me and his lips pull into a small frown. I chuckle nervously, not sure how to respond. He was right but I felt like I would be dragged to Mikey if I said the wrong thing. I really didn’t want to wake the poor guy, he was always grumpy in the morning. “What?”

Donnie sighs, pinching the bridge between his eyes. He takes my hand and brings it to his chest, holding it above his heart. "Hear that? As long as that beats, I'll love you."

His face is stern for just a moment, not having fully processed his words. As soon as his words sink in, his face slowly goes red. I let out a small laugh as our hands interlock, swinging side by side in between the chairs we sat on. Donnie had pulled the strings of his hoodie tight, covering his face as he sank into his chair. I squeeze his hand lightly, grinning at the sight. His head shakes a bit, loosening the strings so he could look at me once more. His face is much less flustered now, his cheeks only slightly tinged in color. He clears his throat, looking into my eyes and squeezing my hand back. "As cheesy as that was, my point still stands. I don't want you thinking like that. You may not be as good as me yet, but I truly believe you can catch up soon. If you want to, that is. Plus, you’re much better at other things than I am. I can’t talk to people like you can, and you’re much more in tune with your emotions.”

I look at him, smiling warmly at his words. “Thank you,” I say sincerely, squeezing his hand once more before letting him go. "I really needed that."

Donnie puffs out his chest proudly, beaming. “Of course! This just proves I am the superior boyfriend! Now if you could just let me record you saying that so I could shove it in Leo's face, I would be very appreciative." His words hold a small tease in them, a smug smile on his proud maw. His face softens again, patting the arms of his chair. “I am going to ask you to talk to me more often about this, okay? I don’t need you thinking I’m going to leave you just because you can’t keep up with me tech wise. Do you understand?"

I nod, sighing. I pull my knees to my chest in the chair, puffing out my cheeks. "Yeah, that's fine. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You told me what was wrong, and now it's going to get fixed. I have no reason to be mad." He turns back to his code, pulling my chair closer to his. He starts to type again, settling back into his own little world, me by his side. I lean on the desk once more, watching him instead of the screen. His eyes were focused, lighten up by both his own mind

and by the light of the screen in front of him. I could see the reflection of the code in his iris', lines upon lines being written in mere moments. My eyes close, a large smile on my face as I settle my head in my arms.

“I love you.” I mumble out, starting to fall asleep to the soothing tapping of his keyboard. My heart flutters in joy when I hear his response.

"I love you too, you dum dum. Go to sleep, I'll be here when you wake."

[tgmsunmontue]

Caring, Keeping and Collecting Transformers - A Guide 4/?

Maverick is unknowingly surrounded by Transformers. He knows something is up though. Just not quite what it is exactly.

Bradley and Jake, having never met, are embarking on their own journeys and will have to learn to deal with the fact that they've both been adopted by Transformers.

Despite having years more experience, Maverick is no help at all.

CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

                He’s in shock.

                He has to be.

                Or he hit his head when he fell out of his car.

                He didn’t fall, he was pushed.

                Pushed out of his car.

                By his car.

                His car, that changed into a robot.

                A robot that seems to be picking a fight with another robot.

                One that had been a plane.

                “What the fuck is going on?”

                He thought he’d whispered the words, but it’s pretty clear he didn’t, because suddenly he has the attention of every… thing. The human standing there looks calm, like he’s used to the vehicles around him just transforming from one thing to another, and maybe he is. Maybe he’s used to it. How would Bradley know otherwise. Fuck. Does Maverick know all about this? Is it why he knew the Bronco would go with him? Keep him safe? Follow him around? Then a horrible thought occurs to him, that the car is maybe somehow keeping tabs on him for Maverick. Then the P-51 Mustang is looking at him, its hand beckoning him and he finds himself stepping forward.

                “I think some introductions are in order. Bradley. Come here.”

…            …            …

                “This is Bradley Bradshaw. My name is Sally. That is… Bronco. There was a previous name but we no longer use it. Dustdrift. Buzzsnarl. Ninja. Razorways. Flashtrack. Savage. Flatbot. Brushblades. Hyperhorn. Duneflash. Racer. Gloomstalker. Ironframe.”

                Sally keeps going, and most of the other robots are smaller. Sally is definitely the largest, followed by Bronco, followed by about seven roughly the same size, which is human sized to Jake’s brain. The other human is… well. For a start he looks too young to be experienced with robots, but Jake doesn’t know anything anymore, maybe the guy is actually an alien. Or vampire. He got directed and carried here by a robot that changes into a plane. This guy looks even more spooked than Jake is feeling though, like he didn’t know that his car could change into a robot, and he guesses if he’d been driving around in a car that suddenly morphed into something else he’d probably look half-terrified as well.

                “And your names?”

                “Jake Seresin, and uh, I believe Starscream’s reputation proceeds him.”

                “Decepticons are not welcome here!”

                “Bronco! You do not speak for us here.”

                The Bronco-bot looks pissed, if a car can even look pissed, but Jake tries to catch the eye of the other human, Bradley, because he sure as hell feels like he needs and wants company right now, especially if the bots decide to solve their aggression with actual fighting. His body is squishy and breakable, he doesn’t need to take on robots he has no beef with. He doesn’t actually think he’d want to take on robots he did have a beef with for that matter.

                “And we have Jetfire in the back of the truck. I’ve been working on it, uh, him, since I was a kid. Recently learned about, all this,” Jake says, waving his hand in the air to encompass the forty or so robots. And he’s pretty sure that whatever Starscream is, all of the others are the opposite.

                “Is that horse truck going to change?” Bradley asks, and his eyes are on it like he fully expects it to, which Jake has to say isn’t as far fetched as it might have been otherwise.

                “I don’t think so? I mean, I’ve driven it here from Texas and I had to stop three times to put gas in it.”

                “I’ve never had to put gas in the Bronco, so yeah, we’re probably good.”

                “So… you live around here?” Jake asks, trying to keep the conversation going, because the other guy is clearly in the first few moments of realization and Jake remembers his own shock and disbelief well enough. It wasn’t that long ago.

                “Uh. No. I did grow up around here. But home is Virginia Beach now.”

                “That’s a drive and a half,” Jake observes and Bradley shrugs.

                “He did most of the driving… nearly all of it in fact,” Bradley says, jerking a thumb in the direction of the Bronco, who somehow manages to look embarrassed, and Sally is crossing her arms like she’s displeased.

                “Okay!” Jake exclaims, because he doesn’t need the robots fighting with each other, and he can sense the tension mounting as they all just stare at him and Bradley, like they’re waiting for them to make a decision. He has no idea what that decision might be though so he’s going to stall for time until it becomes more obvious. “So. Is there a bathroom I could quickly use?”

                Sally’s eyes somehow narrow, but Bradley is nodding, telling him to follow so Jake does, and then he sees the other stuff. There are a couple more bikes, clearly not ones that change into robots, then a trailer and a row of lockers and so many photos. So many. Including plenty of Bradley, as a kid, a teenager, and then in a fucking flight school graduation photo and Jake does a double take. He quickly uses the bathroom and comes back out, glances at the photos again and notes the ticking muscle in Bradley’s jaw.

                “You said you don’t live here?” Jake asks.

                “It’s my godfather’s place.”

                Oh. That makes more sense.

                “And you’re a naval aviator. There’s a photo,” Jake says. Bradley nods sharply, doesn’t look pleased or proud that there’s a photo and Jake glances back again.

                “I’m a naval aviator as well.”

                “Really? Huh.”

                “Hell of a coincidence isn’t it…”

                “Uh. Well, Pete Mitchell is my godfather, and this is his hangar. So three times is a pattern right?”

                “Captain Pete Mitchell? Like… Maverick?”

                “Yeah. Him.”

                “Wow. He’s like… an idol of mine.”

                “Well, I don’t mean to burst your bubble, he’s just a human.”

                “One that lives in an old Navy hangar and is surrounded by robots. That’s pretty fucking cool man.”

                “Yeah, I don’t know if he knows about the robot thing.”

                “Bradley! We have incoming!”

                “Oh for… why is this my problem!” Bradley exclaims, but he’s running for the open door and Jake follows him. An old jeep is speeding toward them down the length of the airstrip, and it looks like an Army issue, but older. There is no-one in the driver’s seat, but there is a very pale faced passenger. The Jeep screeches to a halt and the door is flung open, but not by the Vice Admiral now climbing out. Jake has no idea if he knows about robots, but he sure as hell looks calm and collected, and the Jeep has to be just like the Bronco.

                “Right. Who wants to tell me what’s going on here?”

                He shouldn’t be surprised anymore, the Jeep transforms into a large fierce looking robot and he knows it’s a warrior, can tell by the way he, it, they is coiled and ready to attack, standing behind the Vice Admiral and Jake doesn’t even know what to do. He’s not in uniform, however everything in his training is screaming at him to salute, so he does, steps forward.

                “Lieutenant Seresin, sir.”

                “You’re not a civilian?”

                “No sir. Naval Aviator.”

                “Hmm. Oh.”     

                “Hey Ice.”

                “Bradley. Good to see you. You want to tell me what’s going on?”

                Jake’s brain is spinning wildly out of control.

                “Is this your god father?”

                “No. This is Tom Kazansky. Iceman.”

                “You… you call Admiral Kazansky Ice? And he’s not your god father?”

                “Yeah. Sometimes Uncle Ice. Or Uncle Tom. Only use his title when we’re working, and we haven’t crossed paths yet, professionally,” Bradley says, and his expression isn’t exactly warm when he looks at their superior officer. Jake cannot believe he’s travelled across the continent with a transforming robot to only find warring robots and warring family dynamics. Fucking awesome. He should just turn around and go home. Except he really wants to meet Jetfire. Put them back together.

                He turns then seeks out Starscream, who is standing there silently, arms crossed and looking grim and silent. It’s a sharp contrast to the sarcastic pushy personality he’s been on the receiving end of since Starscream first introduced himself.

                “Admiral, let me introduce you to Starscream –”

                “No! Nope. Not happening. He is staying over there and not moving any closer. You hear me?” the Jeep says, and Jake blinks, because he’d thought for a second that he was getting talked to, but the Jeep is very clearly talking to Starscream.

                “Surprised you haven’t been broken down for parts yet Hound,” Starscream states and Jake rolls his eyes, looks heavenward and wonders if this is what parents of multiple children feel like when they argue. He chances a quick glance at Bradley and he at least is grinning, not even trying to hide his amusement.

                “There are two warring factions. We call them transformers collectively, and there are the Autoboots and the Decepticons,” Admiral Kazansky states, and he’s looking between the larger group collected by the hangar door and Starscream.

                “Let me guess, the Decepticons are meant to be the bad guys…” Jake says dryly, because he feels like this narrative feels familiar.

                “All of us have forms we use to carry out deception. Hound is a jeep most of the time,” Starscream states, his eye narrowing and Jake rubs at his forehead, can feel a tension headache coming on.

                “Also history is generally written by the victor, so I’m just going to ignore everything for now. What is Jetfire anyway?”

                “Jetfire is…”

                “An Autobot.”   “A Decepticon.”   “A scientist.”   “A scout.”   “In pieces.”

                “My friend,” Starscream states, voice hard and loud over all the others and Jake nods.

                “Admiral, I’m here from Texas because I have been working on the pieces of Jetfire since I was about ten years old. Not knowing they were a, what did you call them sir?”

                “Transformers.”

                “Right. Thank you. I wasn’t aware of this aspect until very recently, when Starscream turned up and I learnt that Jetfire has the potential of being… resurrected, as it were. And we brought them here. Because there’s someone here who can help.”

                “Maverick,” Sally states and now Admiral Kazansky is looking like he’s sharing the same tension headache Jake has.

                “Okay. Right. I need to make some calls. Just give me a moment.”

                Jake listens in, the Admiral could move away from them if he wanted more privacy, and quite frankly Jake isn’t risking moving anywhere, a little worried all hell is about to break lose as soon as someone looks at someone else wrong.

                “Maverick. You need to get out to the hangar. Right now.”

                “Consider these orders.”

                “No, I am not using my rank to… No! Just get out to the hangar as quickly as possible.”

                “He’s on his way.”

CHAPTER FIVE

[ya-zz]

PLEASE WRITE ABOUT RAMATTRA'S PARTNER FINDING OUT ABOUT THE VIBE SADDLE PLEEEEASE

Ooohhhh this one was fun to write! The moment I woke up I had the perfect way to start and end this! Thank you so much for requesting!

Ramattra x Reader (gen)

Word count: 1619

NSFW - Although not explicit sex it does has NSFW themes

Everyone had their training sessions, some more than others, and you were no exception. There were multiple different ways to log your sessions, whether that was to do one on one training with the bots, scheduled group sessions or one on one sessions with others whenever you both had the time. Some were more intense than others, and depending on who was willing to train with you, depended on the bruises you were leaving with. 

It was mandatory and there was no way out. Even though you weren’t part of any special forces, being able to use your skills in sudden attacks gave you the higher advantage rather than just being seen as the omnic repair person, someone who would otherwise be seen as weak.

With no other scheduled repairs on your database, it seemed like a good idea to get a session in before the day ended and that’s what you did. After putting away your tools and cleaning the workbench and floor, you grabbed your duffle bag and headed for the training room. 

The walk was silent. Some members were away on missions, others chilling in the wreck room or hanging out in the garden, while some resorted to alone time in their quarters. It was peaceful. The hallway lights flickered, a small humming above you as you walked, nearing your destination. 

Upon entering the training room, you look around before heading straight for the lockers, dumping your bag on the bench before dressing into your gym clothes. 

A noise behind you caused you to turn as you continued pulling your t-shirt over your head. The rather large omnic quickly turned his head in an attempt to give you a little privacy.

“My apologies.” He spoke out, tone laced with a form of embarrassment. 

“It’s okay. You can look.” You smile over at him, placing your clothes in an empty locker before closing it and heading over to one of the training bots. 

He watched you, optics scanning your form as you walked. “I assume you do not have any more repairs scheduled for the rest of the day?” 

“You would assume correct, Ramattra.” You look over your shoulder. “Unless you have something that needs repairing.” 

“I am in perfect working condition.” He chuckles, resting a hand on his hip. “Perhaps we could train together, yes?” 

Turning your body to fully face him, you nod. “Sure, beats the bots for a change.” 

“They are predictable.” He states, walking closer towards you.

“I suppose. Easier for you to say, anyway.” You approach the omnic, walking to the left a little, keeping a close eye on him. 

“You are correct. I have learned their ways.” He walks to the right, the pair of you beginning to circle the floor. 

“Does that not weird you out?” You ask, cocking your head slightly as you tense your fists. “Fighting one of your own?”

“It did at first, however, they are not programmed like me.” He keeps his optics on you, waiting. “They have been programmed to follow simple rules.” 

“Suppose you were the same at one point, right?” 

“Yes. But here I am now.” Ramattra’s tone never faltered, never raising or lowering in pitch. “Now, are you going to keep talking or are we going to train?” 

You shrug, raising your arms in front of you, hands balled into fists as the omnic comes towards you. He was quick, almost silent as his body lunged forward. You, however, were just as fast. Years of self defence had taught you many a thing, especially when the enemy was coming directly at you. Having never trained with Ramattra before, you didn’t exactly know what to expect, but if this was his first move, you were confident in your ability to take him down quickly without any other means of force. 

Your hand connected with his fist, stopping him from punching you. Twisting your body, you move to the side, leg behind his and toppling him to the mat below. He grunted, seemingly caught off guard by your strength. 

“Didn’t think that would work, honestly.” You smile down at him, hands holding his wrists down as your legs locked with his. 

“Humans, however, are not so predictable in certain aspects.” He tilts his head, optics looking up at you from behind his faceplate. “You are stong.”

“Picking me as weak was your first mistake, Ramattra.” 

He noticed your smile change, something more of a smirk embracing your face.

“Oh?” While he wasn’t denying your strength, he pushes himself free from your grip, hands holding onto your thighs, an amused and flirtatious tone in his voice. “But this view is quite something.” 

“What-” Your eyes widen slightly at the sudden change of tone, cheeks flushing as your hands join his, holding onto the purple metal guards. “Shut up.” 

“Come on, [y/n].” He chuckles, hands teasing their way up your arms and pulling you back down, making you lean against his chest before resting his hands back on your thighs. 

“Ramattra…” You look back down at him, looking over his scratched faceplate, wanting nothing more than to trace your fingers over each scratch. 

His fingers circled your thighs gently before applying a small amount of pressure. 

“We are not fucking here.” You state, looking up towards the doorway.

“Who said we were?” Ramattra laughs, the low static rumble escaping his vocaliser. 

You narrow your eyes at him. “What are you planning?” 

“Nothing.” He squeezes your thighs just a little bit harder, watching your heartbeat rise ever so slightly. “Is someone nervous?” 

“Ramattra, I never know what you’re gonna do.” You lean back slightly, hands still resting on his chest. 

“That makes it fun, does it not?” His head tilts again as he speak with a teasing tone. 

“Ramattra, I swear. You better not try anything-” A sudden vibration from his pelvic plate caused you to fall forward, hands gripping his shoulders as you moan out. “F-fuck you.” 

The omnic beneath you laughs, a warmth circulating within his chassis as you continue to whimper next to his receptors. “Such sweet sounds.” He coos, holding you in place against his hips as he fiddles with the settings within his system. 

“Since… when did you… have that…?” Spoken between breathy moans, your grip tightens, the vibrations not stopping as he adjusts the speed, teasing you slowly.

“Suppose I have had it when I got my other features installed.” He changes the settings once more, sudden bursts shocking you and making you squirm over his hips, soft moans slowly growing louder. “You should probably keep quiet…”

“Easy… for you to say…” You bite down on your lip. 

“Humans have their weaknesses.” He smirks internally, tone cocky as he sets the speed higher, feeling you writhe on top of him. 

Something inside of you burned, the coil threatening to snap at any moment. “Y-you- fuck…” 

“Oh? Is someone getting close?” He chuckles, turning it down, hearing a sad whimper from you. 

“P-please…” 

“Needy little one, aren’t you?” Ramattra’s fingers dug deeper into your thighs, bruises threatening to form as he keeps you still, not wanting you to move. 

“Rama… Please…” 

He keeps the setting on low for a moment longer, waiting for the perfect time to drive it higher. Your whimpers grew softer, the vibrations rumbling against your sex gently. 

Without any warning, he put the speed up to its highest, feeling it within himself also. Your sudden cry was music to his receptors, his fans speeding up to cool him down as he gripped your thighs tightly, keeping you in place. 

“Rama…!” Instead of biting your lip to keep quiet, your teeth connected to his neck, biting down on the thick cable that ran down his side. A small groan escaped the omnic, the sensation new to him but not unwelcomed in the slightest. 

He could feel you shake on top of him, moans and whimpers getting more intense before you eventually cry out, holding onto him just as tight as he was holding you. Your thighs squeezed his hips, the vibrations growing more intense as you came from your high, orgasm slowly rolling out. 

When he heard your soft whimpers and felt the jerking of your body, he slowed it down before completely shutting it off. He smirked internally again, tone cocky as he spoke out. “Well, someone enjoyed that.” 

“S-shut up…” 

Ramattra chuckled, releasing your thighs and gently rubbing your back, watching your heartbeat slow down gradually from within his sensors. “Maybe we need another training session. One to keep you quiet.” 

You huff amusedly as you sit up, body still recovering, cheeks flushed and warm. “I will get you back for that.” 

“I would love to see you try.” 

Raising an eyebrow, you smirk. “Coming from the one that’s currently beneath me?” 

He rolled his head, mimicking rolling his eyes. 

“Oh… Well, Ramattra… Perhaps you should come back to the workshop.” Your fingers trace over the bite you had left him as you spoke, red wires peeking through a tear in the protective rubber. 

As you stand with shaky legs, you offer him a hand, attempting to pull him up even though you knew he didn’t need that help. He stood, looking over you while his other hand went to his neck, feeling the split rubber. 

“Perhaps I should.” He watched you smirk before you walked back to the locker and grabbing your bag. He knew you were already planning something, just the way you spoke to him gave him the idea, putting him slightly on edge while his mind ran through every possible sexual scenario he could think of, and that damned playful smirk didn’t help his case either. 

“Come. Let’s get you fixed up.”