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enveine · 4 months

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when doves cry - s. clegane: chapter one (pilot)

pairing: sandor clegane x f!eldest stark reader summary: your loyalty to your family is unwavering, a steadfast commitment that defines your character. however, navigating the turbulent waters of newfound, intense emotions for a man devoted to a family starkly opposed to your own will challenge the foundations of this loyalty. as you stand on the precipice of conflicting allegiances, the question looms: what sacrifices would you make in the name of love? rating: 18+ word count: 4.4k chapter warnings: smut, "we just met but I want to fuck you", kinda ooc sandor, language, story loosely follows the timeline of S1, semi-public sex- very risky, rough sex, reader probably cares more about what's happening then sandor does, hickeys in hidden places, unprotected piv sex, angst, "we just fucked and now we're practically going to be living together".

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The great hall of Winterfell buzzed with activity as the Stark family prepared for the arrival of King Robert Baratheon and his entourage. You were the eldest daughter of Ned and Catelyn Stark, so you knew all eyes were going to be on you; a young woman of noble birth, at an age desperate to be married well. You moved gracefully through the throngs of people, your eyes keenly observing the bustling preparations. You wore a simple but elegant gown, the Stark colors proudly displayed.

A little nervous, to be expected. Nothing a little ride couldn’t fix.

On the way back, you noticed that winter truly had begun its descent upon the land, the air frigid and the wind mighty. The crunch of snow beneath the hooves of your horse echoed through the trees as you headed back towards Winterfell. You were eager to greet the royal party.

As you approached the stable, you hear the unmistakable clatter of hooves against the cobblestone. The royal retinue had arrived. Intrigued, you watch closely to see the beautiful ocean of golden banners, curiosity piqued by the impending arrival of the king.

The gate swung open, revealing the group of visitors. Your gaze was drawn to a towering figure at the back of the party. A man of imposing stature, his face hidden beneath a twisted helm, and clad in dark, rugged armor. He radiated an air of danger that made the other courtiers instinctively give him a wide berth.

Still mounted, you took a step back, closer to your direwolf Nyx. You watched him with a curious gaze. As he sat there, a silent sentinel also mounted upon his horse, you felt a shiver run down your spine as his gaze met your own.

"Who's that?" you inquired, directing the question to a nearby stable boy.

The boy hesitated before answering, "That's the Hound, my Lady. Sandor Clegane, the King's dog."

You clicked your tongue, “King’s dog, huh?” a small laugh, “Interesting title.”

You watched as the man dismounted, your eyes narrowing with interest. He moved with a certain controlled grace, his movements deliberate and purposeful. An unexpected shiver ran down your spine as you observed the mysterious figure. There was something about him that defied the norms of courtly behavior, an untamed quality that set him apart. In a sea of polished knights and well-mannered courtiers, he was a dark anomaly.

You couldn't help but be intrigued by the mysterious figure. Your eyes lingered on him, studying the scars that marred his face. There was a hardness in his gaze that suggested a life of brutality, yet you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the man beneath the armor.

Your eyes met for the briefest moment, a flicker of connection that sent a jolt through your spine. Quickly averting her gaze, you tried ignoring the heart pounding feeling in her chest. The Hound continued on, seemingly indifferent to the glances and whispers that followed him. After his eyes left yours, you couldn’t help but watch his every move again. That man, Sandor Clegane, he was beautiful.

And he was coming right towards you.

As you dismounted her horse, the Hound's attention shifted briefly to her. You felt a twinge of discomfort under his scrutinizing gaze, but being the strong-minded Stark you were, held your ground. Nyx, ever vigilant, growled softly at the Hound, who merely raised an eyebrow in response.

"You a Stark girl?" he grumbled, his voice rough and devoid of warmth.

You nodded, a defiant yet humorous spark in your eyes. "Well I stand before you wearing Stark colors. I’d hope so. (Y/N) Stark. And you are?"

"The Hound. Sandor Clegane," he replied with a hint of mockery. "King's dog, they call me."

You arched an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "A dog, you say?” In a bold move, your eyes slowly moved up and down, taking in a good look of his entire figure. “I don’t see a collar.”

His lips twitched, almost forming a reluctant smirk. It was a rare sight, a crack in his stoic facade.

“Well, dog, I hope you’re house-trained.”

Your exchange was brief, but in that moment, something shifted. A connection, unspoken and unacknowledged, lingered between the two of you. The Hound turned away, disappearing into the crowd, leaving you with a lingering sense of curiosity and an unsettling awareness that even though you’d just met that man—you wanted more of him.

Later that night, the great hall of Winterfell resounded with the clinking of goblets and the boisterous laughter of the guests. You found yourself drawn into the festivities, attempting to put aside the enigmatic encounter with Sandor Clegane. The feast in honor of King Robert Baratheon's visit was in full swing, and the Stark family showed they knew how to put together an extravagant feast.

As the night progressed, you caught glimpses of him across the crowded hall. His presence was ominous, and whispers of him still followed like shadows. Your curiosity mingled with a sense of unease, yet you couldn't shake the feeling that your brief exchange held a significance you couldn't fully comprehend.

You continued to mingle among the noble guests, trying to keep your eyes away from Sandor. But to no avail, you watched in-between pointless conversations as he stood at the outskirts of the celebration. His gaze fixed on the revelry with a mix of disdain and disinterest and you felt a peculiar pull, as if the currents of destiny were nudging you toward the enigmatic man.

An unexpected voice interrupted you in the middle of your thoughts. "(Y/N), you seem quite taken with the Hound," spoke your younger sister, Sansa Stark, her blue eyes glinting mischievously.

You raised an eyebrow and snorted out a laughter, attempting to conceal the obvious interest written in your eyes. "Taken? No, my dear Sansa. Merely curious. He is a formidable figure, after all." You put your arm between hers, nudging her body in the direction of the man who looked quite bored. “You know what mother always tells us. We are wolves, we must be the ones to pounce before the others.”

Sansa's gaze flitted between you and the man in question, a sly smile playing on her lips. "Well, just be careful. Rumors say he has a fearsome temper."

You chuckled at her, feigning nonchalance. "Rumors are just that—rumors. I'm sure there's more to him than meets the eye."

“Rumor has it that I think you’re full of rubbish.” She replied, a playful laugh falling from her lips.

“Oh Sansa, run off. Father needs you.” You nodded in the direction of your father, clearly enjoying his conversation with King Robert and his son, Joffrey.

Poor Sansa, you thought, that boy looks like nothing but trouble.

As the night wore on, you couldn't shake the feeling that their paths were destined to cross again. And fate intervened sooner than expected. The King's squire, Lancel Lannister, approached you with a cup of wine.

"From the Hound," he declared, offering you the goblet.

You hesitated, fingers brushing against the cold metal. You glanced in the direction of the Hound, who merely nodded in acknowledgment. Taking the wine, you nodded back with a small smile, and Lancel retreated into the shadows.

As you sipped the wine, the rich flavor lingered on her lips. As you found yourself drawn once more Sandor, you wondered what he’d taste like lingering on your lips. As your eyes met, a silent understanding passed between the two of you—a forming connection, born from the flames of need for passion.

Eventually, after a few more cups of wine, you found yourself standing at the edge of the hall, watching the dancers twirl to the music. A deep voice behind you interrupted your thoughts. "You fancy dancing, Lady (Y/N)?"

You turned to find Sandor standing there, his burned face impassive. "I can dance if the occasion calls for it," you replied, your eyes meeting his with something you couldn’t describe, but you could definitely feel it.

A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. "She’s a wolf with claws, then."

You were undeterred by his nature, offering a playful smile. "You sure seem to enjoy lurking in the shadows, Ser Clegane. Is that where you find your solace?"

He grunted, a low sound that could be mistaken for a chuckle. "Solace is overrated. I prefer the edge of the firelight."

You tilted your head, curls cascading over your shoulder. "A mysterious man, I see. Are you afraid the light will reveal too much?"

Sandor's lips twitched into a half-smile, a rare sight on his scarred face. "Some things are better left in the dark."

Leaning in, you whispered, "But not everything. Some things are meant to be uncovered." You caught the glint in his eye, a flicker of something lustful beneath the rough exterior.

The conversation continued, the banter growing more flirtatious with each exchange. You teased and prodded, finding amusement in the unexpected connection you felt with the man. He, in turn, responded with a gruff charm that surprised even himself.

Eventually, he left you with short instructions, “Broken tower.”

At last, you found yourself in the quiet solitude with the idea of getting to know Sandor better. In a way you’d known nobody before. The anticipation of his presence weighed on you, and a flutter of nerves danced in your stomach. The air was charged with a different kind of energy, one that held the promise of a connection that transcended the boundaries of right and wrong.

A soft knock on the door signaled his arrival, and when you opened it, there he stood, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of intensity and vulnerability. The flickering candlelight cast a warm glow over his scarred face, softening the harsh lines that had witnessed battles and hardships.

"I thought we might continue our conversation," he rumbled, his voice carrying a note of sincerity that caught you off guard, especially when he roughly grabbed your cheeks in his hands and pressed his lips against yours. Your heart raced as you welcomed his tongue inside your mouth, trying your best to close the door.

The room pulsed with palpable tension, igniting like a fervent flame, as your hands yearned to make contact with him in every possible manner. The warmth emanating from your skin created a contrast against the cold, unyielding metal of his armor. Restless and eager, your hands became a silent testament to the unspoken urgency of your desire.

Sandor's gaze remained fixed on yours throughout, ablaze with a passion you had long yearned for—a fervor you couldn't fathom experiencing with the man standing before you.

Your teeth sank into his lower lip, coaxing a resonant, primal groan from him, prompting his reluctant withdrawal. "She's a wolf with claws and teeth," he chuckled, wiping away the trace amount of blood that had emerged from the newfound wound.

Rather than offering a response, your body found itself pressed against the wall, his calloused hand gently mitigating the impact on your head. "Couldn’t very well carry our conversation with your lips against mine," you remarked at last, tilting your head to the side as his lips met the tender skin of your neck.

He stopped for a moment- another faint chuckle coming before continuing, “aye, that was the point.”

Sandor persisted in tracing kisses along your neck, momentarily pausing only to leave subtle bites in places known only to him. In this moment, he recognized that he was on the brink of losing all restraint, evident in the autonomy of his hands, which seemed to explore every inch of your body with a desire you willingly indulged. Oh, how willingly you would allow him to continue.

“Sandor, please, I need-” you were cut off mid sentence by him grabbing your right leg and wrapping it around his waist. The cold metal hid his hardening cock—the feeling of it against your warm skin made you anticipate his every move. “If we’re g-gonna do this.. we need to hurry..”

“You need to keep quiet.”

His lips descended, caressing the delicate fabric of your dress. His fingers deftly maneuvered to release you from its confines with a sense of urgency; there was an animalistic quality to his actions—rough fingers, accompanied by soft growls, responding to the rhythmic dance of your body against his determined hold. A silent plea resonated, a tacit acknowledgment that you craved everything he was willing to bestow upon you.

A hushed stillness enveloped the space for the next few moments, broken only when he skillfully lowered your dress, unveiling your tits. Sandor's fingers delicately traced the contours of each nipple, his unwavering gaze captivated by their response. With each circular motion, they seemed to intensify in firmness, a testament to the heightened sensitivity your body exhibited in mere minutes of his touch. He reveled in the allure of your immediate responsiveness.

If anyone were to walk in they’d see such a pornographic sight: the beloved, eldest daughter of Ned Stark, nipples hard and swollen, dress hiked up to her waist while the Prince’s hound let her hump his armor. By this point, you'd wager that the burgeoning dampness in your silk panties had left its mark on the cool silver surface, a silent proclamation of your possession of the man. Yet, the mutual understanding between you both acknowledged that any unsuspecting onlooker venturing in would be treated to an undeniable spectacle.

If this were your first time, perhaps a hint of nervousness would have crept in, particularly as you sensed his hands gently sliding your panties down to your knees. Yet, even in such a moment, his adept handling imparted a profound sense of security. This man, bound by oath to safeguard his King, was now silently pledging to protect you with equal devotion.

But, fortunately, nothing could protect your body from what Sandor was about to do.

Seating himself on the ground after loosening his leather pants, he then drew you down to join him. As you settled onto his lap, he playfully grazed against your entrance with his cock, all the while continuing his descent of kisses along your neck. With a stern tone, he uttered, "My Lady, speak the word and I’ll stop."

Gazing into his eyes, you found them ablaze with desire, mirroring the fervor you sensed within yourself. His captivating eyes, the unsteady cadence of his breath, and the formidable frame enveloping you in its embrace—you desired nothing else in that moment.

“I don’t think such words exist.” You whispered.

At last, your lips met again with an intense passion, and as he slowly pushed his cock inside, his kiss carried a raw urgency that you eagerly reciprocated. Midway, a soft moan escaped as an indescribable sensation stirred in your stomach. Gazing down, your eyes caught a glimpse of your warmth enveloping him voraciously—a hunger akin to a famished wolf.

Sandor wasn’t even in completely.

His hips moved gradually against yours, a measured rhythm aiming to acquaint you with his full length. Pressed chest to chest, he sensed the rapid cadence of your intense heartbeat, but as his fingers traced small circles on your thighs, he felt it gradually subside. Sandor understood that in due course, he would sense the resurgence of your elevated heart rate, particularly when he ultimately filled you entirely. The connection was palpable, your pelvis intimately aligned with his.

He sustained a consistent rhythm, guiding your hips in a reciprocal dance of thrusts. The entire encounter was swift and purposeful, each thrust delivered with a sense of urgency, as if time were a constraint. In a sense, it was, considering the uncertainty of someone stumbling upon you at any moment.

Yet, beneath it all, an undercurrent of passion prevailed. The symphony of your gasps harmonized with his occasional groans, creating a melodic atmosphere. Your hand remained anchored on the back of Sandor's neck like a steadying handlebar, providing support as his thrusts intensified. It felt fitting that this was how Sandor Clegane fucked his women—clothed, he embodied roughness and intensity; how could one become tender and affectionate when undressed?

The familiar sensation of tightness formed in your stomach, and truth be told, there was a hint of disappointment in how swiftly the entire encounter unfolded. Yet, the lack of surprise lingered; he had proven to be the quickest in getting you into bed. The inexplicable allure he held over you remained a mystery, but in this moment, such thoughts were irrelevant—especially when you stood on the brink of blissful release.

Suddenly, a surge of sensation swept over you as his hand enveloped your throat. Sandor felt the subtle tightening of your walls around his cock, a telltale sign that you were teetering on the edge. He sought to bring you to that exquisite pleasure. Amidst the crescendo of your growing moans reverberating against the tower walls, his grip tightened, not to stifle your ecstasy but to cloak the sounds and shield the secrecy of your rendezvous.

As tears cascaded down your cheeks in response to the overwhelming pleasure, he spoke, "That's it, (Y/N), that's it…" It was as if he momentarily shed his usual demeanor, softening as he observed you in your vulnerable state. However, amidst the whirlwind that had your head spinning and everything fading to white, the only thing you could truly register was the profound impact of your orgasm.

Sandor wasn't far behind, withdrawing as you caught your breath, leaving your back adorned in ribbons of white cum. A soft whine escaped you as you felt it trickle down, accompanied by his heightened groans that surpassed those from when he was inside you. The aftermath left both of you in a hushed stillness, contemplating who would break the silence first. It was him, rising to his feet after moving your body off his lap and discreetly tucking his softening cock back into his trousers. He handed you a handkerchief, a gesture to cleanse the now drying traces from your back.

You wondered whether he would abandon you in the tower, retreat to his quarters, or perhaps rejoin the now dwindling party. To your surprise, he didn't. Instead, he extended his hand, helping you rise and assisting in the process of reclothing yourself. It was a considerate gesture, you acknowledged, yet it only added to the palpable tension that seemed to be mounting. You were certain Sandor could discern it in your expression—the subtle frown betraying your disappointment that the encounter had concluded. As you gazed at him, you searched for any sign of shared sentiment, any indication that he, too, would miss the intimacy you had just shared. Regrettably, you found nothing.

The air outside the tower was crisp, and the moon cast a silvery glow across the surroundings as Sandor led you down the winding path to your quarters. The atmosphere was thick with unspoken words, the tension between you two lingering even in the cool night air.

The journey was silent, punctuated only by the occasional rustle of leaves and the soft echo of your footsteps on the cobblestone path. Sandor's hand, firm yet strangely comforting, guided you through the dimly lit passages of the castle.

As you approached your quarters, a mix of conflicting emotions washed over you. There was a longing for something more, a desire to bridge the gap between the intimacy you'd just shared and the reality of the castle walls around you. The silence between you spoke volumes, a tacit acknowledgment of the uncharted territory you both found yourselves in.

Upon reaching your door, Sandor released your hand, and for a moment, it felt like a sudden loss. He stood there, his expression unreadable in the muted moonlight. You searched his eyes for any sign of what lay beneath the surface, but they remained enigmatic.

"Goodnight, Lady (Y/N)," Sandor gruffly uttered, breaking the silence. The words hung in the air, a simple farewell laden with unspoken complexities.

"Goodnight, Sandor Clegane," you replied, your voice soft and tinged with a hint of something unsaid. As you entered your quarters, the door closing behind you, the weight of the night settled in.

Alone in the hushed sanctuary of your quarters, the echoes of the night's encounter reverberated through the room. The emotions, like an unruly storm, swirled within you, and the dam holding them back began to crack.

As you stood there, the weight of what had transpired bore down on you. The tears, uninvited, welled up in your eyes and spilled over, tracing the contours of your cheeks. It wasn't just the physical intimacy that left you shaken; it was the tangled web of emotions that accompanied it.

Regret gnawed at you, and confusion settled in like a heavy fog. What had led you to this precipice, and where did you stand now? The vulnerability of the moment washed over you, leaving you adrift in a sea of conflicting emotions.

Fumbling with the fastenings of your dress, you sought solace in the act of undressing, as if shedding the layers would somehow alleviate the burden you carried. The moonlight filtering through the window cast shadows across the room, emphasizing the isolation you felt.

Laying on the bed, your tears soaked into the fabric beneath you, a silent lament for the choices made and the uncharted territories navigated. The intimacy, though a fleeting connection, left a profound impact, and the aftermath left you grappling with a whirlwind of emotions.

As the night wore on, the tears eventually subsided, leaving behind a quiet ache and a lingering question of what the dawn would bring. In the solace of your room, you found yourself wrestling with the complexities of desire, regret, and the uncertain path ahead.

The morning sun painted Winterfell in hues of gold, casting a warm light over the courtyard. Despite the tender touch of dawn, the echoes of the previous night's emotions still sat within your heart.

A soft knock on your door signaled the entrance of your father, whose countenance bore the strength of responsibility. "(Y/N)," he began with a softness, "gather your sisters. There's something we must discuss."

Compelled by both curiosity and a lingering sense of unrest, you summoned Arya and Sansa to join you in the family chambers. As the three of you assembled, a somber atmosphere enveloped the room, foreshadowing the gravity of your father's impending words.

Ned stood before you, a stalwart figure. "My daughters," he started, his voice bearing both love and gravitas, "a change is upon us. I have been offered the position of Hand of the King by King Robert."

Sansa's eyes widened, Arya's skepticism palpable, and you exchanged a glance with a mixture of surprise and uncertainty.

"We will be relocating to King's Landing," Ned continued, his gaze encompassing each of you. "It is an honor, but with it comes great responsibility. The court is a labyrinth of politics and intrigue, and I need my family by my side."

Arya's rebellious spirit simmered beneath the surface, while Sansa's excitement mingled with trepidation. As for you, the events of the night before lingered, making the move to King's Landing feel like an unexpected twist in the intricate tapestry of your life.

Amidst the familial exchanges, there was another silent dance occurring—one between you and Sandor. His eyes constantly drew your gaze. It was as if an invisible thread connected you, and in those moments, the world around you blurred as your eyes met his, wordlessly conveying a shared understanding of the complexities unfolding.

Ned Stark, seemingly oblivious to the subtle interplay, continued to outline the responsibilities that awaited the Stark family in the capital. As he spoke, your eyes frequently found Sandor's, and each exchange carried a weight of unspoken emotions. His gaze, normally guarded, held a hint of something that transcended the stoic exterior he presented to the world.

When Ned mentioned the unity of the Stark family in facing the challenges ahead, your eyes involuntarily sought out Sandor's once more. In that shared gaze, there was a recognition that echoed the uncertainties of the path ahead and the uncharted territories that lay before you.

The air seemed heavy with the weight of impending change as you sought out Sandor in the quiet corners of the castle. You found him in a secluded courtyard, the familiar hounds of House Stark milling about nearby. The atmosphere was tense, and the silent exchange of glances from before lingered in your mind.

"Sandor," you began, your voice cutting through the stillness. He turned to face you, his expression guarded but expectant.

The words tumbled out, the night before demanding acknowledgement. "What happened between us… it was unexpected, and now with the move to King's Landing, I don't know what this means."

Sandor's gaze, normally impenetrable, softened in a rare display of vulnerability. "It means nothing, my Lady. Just a moment in time, and we move on."

But you couldn't shake the lingering questions. "Is that all it was to you? Just a moment?"

He hesitated, his eyes meeting yours with a raw honesty. "It was more than that, but it's not something that fits into our worlds."

A surge of frustration mixed with a tinge of sadness swept over you. "Our worlds? What does that mean, Sandor? We're both headed to King's Landing. We're both a part of whatever is coming next."

His gaze held a complexity that mirrored the conflict within. "In King's Landing, there's a different kind of game being played. I’m not the one to bring into your world, and you sure as hell don't belong in mine."

The words stung, but there was a resignation in his tone, as if he sought to shield you from the harsh realities he faced daily.

You took a step closer, unwilling to let the unspoken linger. "I can decide what world I belong to, Sandor. And right now, I want to understand what this is between us."

He sighed, a mixture of frustration and reluctance. "We're just two people caught up in a storm. Best not to overthink it."

Before you could press further, the sound of footsteps approached, and the courtyard suddenly felt less secluded. Sandor's eyes met yours once more, a silent understanding passing between you.

"In King's Landing, things will have to change," he muttered, his tone a gruff acknowledgment of the challenges ahead.

The bittersweet taste of truth lingered in the air as he pressed a fleeting kiss to your forehead. A silent understanding passed between you, a farewell woven with unspoken regrets and the inevitability of parting ways.

As the distance between your bodies widened, the courtyard seemed to stretch infinitely. The angst that clung to the parting moments left an indelible ache, a silent ache that would resonate in the chambers of your heart long after the echoes of Sandor's footsteps faded into the shadows.

"I don't want to lose you," you confessed in your mind.

#sandor clegane smut #smut #sandor clegane #sandor the hound clegane #the hound #sandor clegane x reader #sandor clegane x you #the hound x reader #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones x reader #reader insert #got smut

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remusjohnslupin · 9 months

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‘Lord, hear me!’ he said. ‘Now we feel the peril that we were warned of. Have we ridden forth to victory, only to stand at last amazed by an old liar with honey on his forked tongue? So would the trapped wolf speak to the hounds, if he could. What aid can he give to you, forsooth? All he desires is to escape from his plight. But will you parley with this dealer in treachery and murder? Remember Théodred at the Fords, and the grave of Háma in Helm’s Deep!’

(dedicated to @eomer // 'a whole decade!' celebration!)

#lotredit #tolkienedit #tlotrgifs #eomer #tolkienmine #wow a whole decade!#ok I know this was a low-hanging fruit #with your username and all #but you also made him your icon soooo...#I'm guessing you like eomer? :P #I hope you like this anyway

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in1-nutshell · 3 months

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Optimus Prime adopting a sparkling with reactions from the Decepticons

Continuation of last request.

Optimus adopting a sparkling reactions from Autobots

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Cybertronain reader

Lately there had been more Decepticon activity than usual, meaning less time for Buddy to spend time with Optimus.

He tried to spend his free time with Buddy, but he was so tired.

“Hey Prime—Woah…”--Bumblebee

Optimus faceplanted on a book while Buddy was watching something on the datapad.

“I should probably go get Ratchet.”--Bumblebee

Optimus snapping awake.

“Don’t do that!”--Optimus

“Prime!”—Bumblebee

Startled sparkling noises.

“Sorry about that.”--Optimus

“Oh, it’s okay Optimus. No harm done. Hi Buddy!”—Bumblebee

Buddy waving.

“But please don’t tell Ratchet. I haven’t slept in 2 decacycles and I think he’s onto me…”--Optimus

Buddy soon started to notice that everyone else was becoming more and more tired by the day. Their regular babysitters looked tired every time it was their turn to handle Buddy. Not having much energy to deal with a sparkling. Buddy regularly started spending more time with the Dinobots, which they were happy to have Buddy over.

“Hey Grimlock, I brought Buddy over.”--Wheeljack

“Hmmm… Why Tiny Buddy come so much now?”--Grimlock

“Well Optimus and some of the others are taking more patrol shifts after the recent Con activity in the area.”--Wheeljack

“So…”--Grimlock

We cant take care of them right now Grimlock. That’s why we need you guys to watch Buddy until we come back.”--Wheeljack

Oh, Me Grimlock understand now.”--Grimlock

“Thank you—”--Wheeljack

“Buddy is Grimlock sparkling now!”--Grimlock

“WHAT NO—”--Wheeljack

“Dinobot’s who say Tiny Buddy is Grimlock sparkling say ‘eye’!”--Grimlock

“This is not up for debate Grimlock! Buddy is still—”--Wheeljack

“Eye!”--Dinobots

“5 against 1. Dinobot’s win!”--Grimlock

“Oh Primus…”--Wheeljack

Meanwhile on patrol…

Optimus suddenly stopping.

“Whats wrong Prime? See any Con’s?”--Ironhide

“It’s the Buddy tingle…”--Optimus

“Is Buddy okay?”--Bumblebee

“… I’ll need to get back to base earlier than usual.”--Optimus

But then they started getting called in.

Buddy started being left alone with Grampa Sparkplug and Spike.

One morning Buddy tried keeping Optimus from getting out of the base by holding onto his servo for dear life. Optimus simply put them back into their makeshift crib and patted their helm, gently closed the door, and walked off for his morning patrols.

Prime thought he was leaving Buddy under the supervision of the Dinobots.

He didn’t know that the Dinobots had gone with Wheeljack and Hound to go see the new outdoor museum.

The Dinobots thought that Buddy was safe in the base with Ratchet and Sparkplug.

Ratchet and Sparkplug were out in town with Hoist and Grapple getting some more spare parts for the med bay and future projects for Wheeljack.

Ratchet and Sparkplug thought Buddy was with Bumblebee, Spike, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker.

The four of them were on a scouting mission that Prime had sent them on.

Which brings us back to Buddy.

Buddy for the first time since they had been found, was all alone in the base.

Buddy tried calling for anyone to come and get them.

After a while of calling Buddy started crying.

And crying hard.

Soundwave was trying to collect his thoughts.

He was on a mission from Megatron to get some more intel on Teletran one with his mini’s.

“Man, that was easy!”--Frenzy

“I know right! How many times has that loser Spike fallen for the old ‘lost casseste player’ thing?”--Rumble

“Too many to count.”--Frenzy

“Rumble, Frenzy: Quiet.”--Soundwave

“But—”--Rumble

“Comence operation: Teletran—”--Soundwave

“WWAAAAHHHHH!”--Buddy

“What was that?”--Frenzy

“Who was that?! I thought every one left!”--Rumble

“WWWAAAHHHHH!”--Buddy

“New operation: Soundwave investigate. Ravage, Frenzy, Rumble, Lazerbeak get Teletran One information.”--Soundwave

“On it, Boss!”--Rumble

Soundwave used his telepathic powers to seek the mind who was in the base.

He was hit with a sudden wave of raw emotions.

Sadness.

Anger.

Worry.

Fear.

So much Fear.

He wasted no time going and seeing who this was.

The closer he got to the room the more he could hear the screams.

The screams sounded like a youngling.

No Autobot would start torturing natives of this planet… right?

The new blast of screams caused him to nearly rip the door from its hinges.

RRRIIIIIIPPPPPP!

“Who is there? Show your self.”--Soundwave

“WWWAAAaahh?”--Buddy

“A… sparkling?”--Soundwave

Happy sparkling noises.

“Operation: Adoption in process.”--Soundwave

Sparkling reaching upward.

“Operation Adoption: Complete. Sparkling: Mine now.”--Soundwave

“Hey, Soundwave we got the—Sweet Primus! Is that a sparkling?!”--Rumble

“Rumble: Hush.”--Soundwave

“Hey—”--Frenzy

“Shhh! Soundwave has a sparkling!”--Rumble

“A sparkling!?”--Frenzy

“Frenzy: Hush.”--Soundwave

“The Autobots left them alone?”--Frenzy

“Answer: positive.”--Soundwave

“… You’re gonna take them, aren’t you?”--Rumble

Soundwave tucking in the sparkling into his chassis.

Dad mode was activated.

As soon as he was outside of the entrance, he started hearing some of the younger Autobots coming near. Quickly putting Buddy into his Chassis, Soundwave quietly ran into the night.

Soundwave made it back to the Nemesis where he took Buddy out of his chassis along with the other cassettes.

Soundwave doesn’t know what happened in there, but it turns out the cassettes had made some sort of blood oath to look after the sparkling.

Everyone is crowding around the small family trying to get a look at the sparkling.

The minicons tried forming a protective barrier between them and the sparkling.

“Hey back up Screamer! You’ll scare the kid!”--Rumble

“How dare you—”--Stascream

Ravage and Lazerbeak standing by Buddy’s side daring the Second in Command to come closer.

“Fine… I didn’t want to see it anyways.”--Starscream

“Where did you fine the sparkling?”--Thundercracker

“Autobot base. Base empty. Sparkling only one there.”--Soundwave

“Did you get the information?”--Starscream

“Information gained successfully.”--Soundwave

“Nice, but who’s going to tell Megatron?”--Skywarp

“Whose, going to tell me what?”--Megatron

Sparkling sneezing noises.

“What…”--Megatron

The crowd was parted when Megatron entered the room. Soundwave stated what happened during his mission. Leaving Megatron a bit disgusted with his enemy.

How could Prime be so irresponsible for leaving the sparkling alone.

They even have humans that can look after the sparkling.

Well maybe not Spike, but the other ones are more competent than that one!

Now Megatron isn’t that dumb.

He knows where to draw the line in his ways, especially with new Cybertronian sparklings.

But at the same time, he wants to teach Prime a lesson.

“Soundwave, you will have custody of the sparkling until the end of the week.”--Megatron

“Affirmative.”--Soundwave

“Listen, my army! This sparkling is not to be harmed under no circumstance! They will be part of the Decepticon army until the end of the week. Some of you will be looking after the sparkling, so you better plant that idea in your processors. Now any questions?”--Megatron

“Here!”--Thundercracker

“Yes Thundercracker.”--Megatron

“Are we going to have to give the sparkling a name? Because I don’t want to call them ‘sparkling’ every single time.”--Thundercracker

“Umm…”--Megatron

“Buddy!”--Buddy

“…Did—did the kid—”--Skywarp

“Buddy! Buddy! Buddy!”--Buddy

“I guess that’s their name.”--Rumble

The Cons decide to agree to one rule: No one is going to get attached.

Right?

You have Con’s who are already building up their emotional wall higher already wishing the week would be over.

Then you have Con’s like Soundwave who are already printing out copies for sharing the custody over the sparkling.

Everyone swears not to get attached.

That is the one thing they all fail to do.

As Buddy guardian during the week, he makes sure that most of his assignments are base operated.

Megatron can deal with it until the week is over.

The minicons are the primary babysitters for the sparkling.

Rumble and Frenzy try to teach the sparkling how to rough house which ends up with both fighting each other over the best way to give someone an uppercut.

Ravage likes to take naps near the sparkling.

Lazerbeak and Buzzsaw together like giving the sparkling little flying lessons.

Ratbat likes cuddling the sparkling when they are deep asleep, he’ll leave as soon as the sparkling starts waking up.

Soundwave entering back to his habsuite after some decoding.

“Rumble. Frenzy. Where is Buddy?”--Soundwave

Soundwave sees a cuddle pile of minicons around the sleeping sparkling on his berth.

Soundwave sighs softly and joins the pile.

The Elite Trine are the ones who really give the sparkling a flying lesson.

The three of them have a timer that tells them when to give the other a chance with the sparkling.

Skywarp warps with Buddy in his arms all over the Nemesis which makes them laugh loudly. He was quickly banned from doing this after he got stuck in a wall again and Buddy nearly dropped to the floor if it weren’t for Soundwave.

Starscream tries the entire time to get the sparkling to say ‘Hail Starscream’. Somehow the sparkling says ‘Hail Megatron’ and ‘Hail Optimus’. Where did they learn those two names? He blames Skywarp.

Thundercracker being the tamer one of the group takes the sparkling out of the base and peacefully flies above the clouds and careful not to fly above Autobot territory.

Buddy on the floor drawing something on a datapad.

“Whatcha drawing Buddy?”--Skywarp

“Seek! Seek!”--Buddy

“Seek? Do you mean Seeker?”--Thundercracker

“Seek! Seek!”--Buddy

“So, they decided to draw us Elite Seekers then. Quite fitting as we are the best Seekers in the Decepticon Armada. Well, show us.”--Starscream

Buddy showing a picture of them flying through the air; Skywarp surrounded by the purple crayon, Thundercracker had thunder bolt stickers, Starscream had a little crown on him. All topped with the Con logo stamped multiple times on the pad.

“That’s a weirdly cute drawing.”--Skywarp

“Yeah—Screamer are you crying?”--Thundercracker

Starscream’s optics filling with coolant.

“N-no.”--Starscream

Blitzwing and Astrotrain are set on babysitting duty one day when Soundwave and the minicons couldn’t see to it.

The both of them swear that the sparkling is going to cry when they see them and they are going to laugh.

Two hours into ‘Titanic’ the two Cons are trying to sniffle in the coolant that is dripping down their faceplates and sparkling is laughing at the humans in the funny dresses.

“Umm… why are you guys watching ‘Titanic’?”--Thundercracker

“Shut it!”--Astrotrain

“Oh C’mon! Jack obviously didn’t steal your dumb necklace, Rose! Don’t fall for that lousy trick!”--Blitzwing

“Ha Rosey!”--Buddy

“Exactly Buddy! Rose is funny to have fallen for this lousy trick! But with the power of love and plot, she’ll figure out that out!”--Thundercracker

“…”—Astrotrain, Blitzwing, Thundercracker

“…You want to join?”--Blitzwing

“…yes.”--Thundercracker

Buddy becomes nearly enamored with the sight of Devastator.

The huge bot is just crouching and lightly poking at the sparkling’s belly as it giggles and laughs loudly.

Devestator likes this.

When he goes back into the Constructicons, the adoration doesn’t stop.

Scrapper and Scavenger make little sparkling safe toys for Buddy to play around with. All in green and purple colors. Like the little Construction they are!

Bonecrusher is a little cautious to be near Buddy thinking he would accidentally hurt them. Buddy lies to sit on his lap, where he just becomes as stiff as a statue to not hurt Buddy.

Long Haul looks after Bonecrusher so nothing bad happens to Buddy. Which is mainly fixing Buddy’s posture, so they don’t tumble off of his teammates lap.

Mixmaster is not allowed to be near Buddy without Hook nearby. Hook may not be the strongest member of the Constructicons, but he also knows that there is a higher possibility of Buddy getting a scratch with Mix. As designated medic, he has his bandages ready.

Devestator holding Buddy in the palm of his servo.

Buddy giggling.

“Devestator shedding one single tear from the cuteness

Megatron tries to sneak in extra time from other Cons, but he can’t do it.

Soundwave is serious about having his kid -er- Buddy spending time with everyone equally.

But since Megatron has a lot of things to do he has his scientist build a device similar to what human’s strap on to take their younger infants on their chassis.

So many of his soldiers have to use every amount of will power not to laugh or giggle as Megatron is giving out battle plans as the sparkling strapped to his chassis is chewing on a rust stick.

“We will attack the base here. Then we shall—”--Megatron

Buddy sneezes.

“Aww!”--Decepticons

“As I was saying, we shall then—”--Megatron

Buddy laughing loudly for no reason.

“AWW!”--Decepticons

“…We shall—”--Megatron

Buddy tanks rumbling.

“Buddy: need fueling. Commence operation: Fueling time.”--Soundwave

“…Meeting dismissed...”--Megatron

The day finally comes to return the sparkling back. Megatron is already making plans with Soundwave to get the sparkling next month for another week.

Surprisingly there are some tears shed as Buddy waves goodbye to their new friends as Soundwave takes them back to the surface.

“You take care kid.”--Thundercracker

“Can’t wait for our next movie night!”--Blitzwing

“We’ll watch ‘The Goonies’ next time!”--Astrotrain

“I guess this is good-bye then. Until we meet again.”--Starscream

“I know you’re gonna miss them Screamer. Just admit it.”--Skywarp

“Shut… fine. We will see each other soon, Buddy.”--Starscream

“Good-Bye Buddy.”--Devestator

“We’ll see ya soon you little punk.”--Frenzy

“Don’t talk to strangers that aren’t us!”--Rumble

“Farewell little one. We will see each other shortly.”--Megatron

“Bye-bye!”--Buddy

Meanwhile last week at the base.

Everyone was in panic mode.

Someone had kidnapped Buddy, and they didn’t have any video evidence of who had done it.

Everyone is blaming themselves for not being there for Buddy.

But Optimus is the worst of them all.

He had tried calling the Decepticons multiple times seeing if they had kidnapped Buddy and wanted ransom. They hadn’t answered. They had gone radio silence.

Optimus was going through everyone that would want revenge on him and thinking about where they could have taken Buddy. Ratchet and Ironhide have had to sedate him into getting some sleep.

When the Dinobots found out they nearly went berserk.

They are the first out the door looking for Buddy and the last to come back from searching.

Everyone is on high alert.

Back to the present.

Soundwave was hiding behind some tall trees that were near the base. There was a path that led straight to the base if they just continued the path.

“Buddy. Go down path.”--Soundwave

“Path?”--Buddy

“Commence operation: Go home.”--Soundwave

“Home?”--Buddy

“Yes, go to Prime. Good-bye Buddy.”

Soundwave bending down to hug Buddy one last time before placing them on the ground and walks down the opposite direction.

Soundwave looked from his hiding place until he was sure that Buddy was in the clear before heading back to the Nemesis.

Buddy waited a bit then started down the familiar path back home. It was the same nature path Optimus and Grimlock sometimes used when they needed to go for a walk and to get back to the base.

They speed up their little walk as more things start getting familiar to their optics. Especially the greenery around the large boulder.

They spot a familiar red and blue figure sitting on their special boulder and squeal in delight.

“Oppy! Oppy!”--Buddy

“Buddy!? Buddy!”--Optimus

“Oppy!”--Buddy

“Buddy!”--Optimus

Optimus’s knees give out as he crashes to the ground with Buddy in his arms. He is letting a sob of relief out feeling Buddy’s little servos on his facemask.

“Oppy? Oppy no cry. Happy! No sad!”--Buddy

“I am not sad Buddy…I am happy. So happy…”--Optimus

#transformers #transformers x reader #maccadam #transformers g1 #g1 x platonic reader #g1 optimus prime

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gardens-light · 8 months

Text

Shooting Stars

Since breaking into K.S.I, more questions than answers were being raised. It seemed like things were becoming more unclear, than they originally were. And in the midst of all the chaos, the secret (or not so secret) romance between you and Optimus begun to build. With your heart and his Spark, yearning for one another. The pair of you slowly got to a point, where you could only resist temptation for so long...

Content: Course Language. Events takes place in Transformers- Age of Extinction (no spoilers.) Fluff followed by NSFW smut. (This chapter is basically pure smut, as my head has been in the gutter for the past week.) Optimus Prime x F/Human reader.

Inspired by the song: Airplanes- B.O.B

Word Count: 2,800.

Sparkmate Series: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6 Part 7 (End)

Two Days Later

With the nights growing colder, the thin blankets that Cade found only did so much. The stained-glass windows of the cathedral no longer seemed beautiful- but more of an annoyance, as the chill air would sweep through the cracked glass.

And in addiction of Cade's snoring, sleep seemed impossible to come. A heavy sigh escaped your lips, eyes rolling a little as you grew bored of staring up at the ceiling, for who knows how long by now.

Sitting up and rubbing your temples, trying to allow your eyes to adjust to the dimly lit darkness. As you carefully exited out of your sleeping bag, trying to disturb the others as little as possible. Hands running along the cold brick walls, while you made your way towards the main hall.

Nerves crawled up your back, as a low rumble echoed through the main hall. Your breath hitching slightly with each step, stopping whenever the low rumble slightly peeked in volume. Moonlight lazily shined through the windows, as the overcast sky slowly cleared.

It’s just Hound. Your thoughts assured, while a suttle sigh of relief left your lungs.

The muscles in your body slightly relaxing, as the sight of the Autobot snoring away teased a smile upon your lips. Tip-toing towards the makeshift table and quietly making a protein shake. A steady breath returned to you, as the dim darkness soon grew on you, making your surroundings somewhat more comfortable.

While taking a few sips from the drink, your head tilted to the side a little, as a familiar shadow fell across the table from outside. Curiosity stirred your thoughts, causing your body to carefully tread towards a large hole in the wall.

“I thought it might have been you.”

Optimus’ optics fell onto you, a small smile spreading across his faceplate. Watching you carefully climb over the lose bricks, with your drink in hand. You approached the mechanical giant, as he sat upon the ground. Leaning against the solid wall of the cathedral.

He felt your eyes study his features, “are you alright, Optimus? You look tired.”

“I’ll be alright, Sweet Spark.” His soothing voice assured, “you do not need to worry about me.-”

“But I do, Optimus.” You shyly admitted, walking towards the gazebo, that still had string lights and fairy lights surrounding it. “Especially what you said earlier.”

You watched his optics quickly avoid your questioning gaze. His helm lowering slightly, as guilt played on his processors and slightly squeezed his Spark. You wasn’t supposed to hear that...

“’What did you mean? ‘You’re done fighting for humans.’ You didn’t mean that... did you?”

“Y/N...” Optimus sighed, hesitating before looking back at you. “How many more of my kind must be sacrificed to atone for your mistakes?”

“What do you think ‘being human’ means?” you questioned. Another arrow of guilt struck Optimus’ core, as his audio receivers detected the underlying hurt within your voice. “That’s what we do, we make mistakes. But sometimes the most amazing things comes from those mistakes.”

You softly bit your bottom lip, fingers playing with the cup as you took a moment.

“When I fixed you... it was for a reward.” The words tasted like poison upon your tounge, as regret slowly squeezed your heart. But at the same time, a sensation of relief washed over you. Like a long bottled-up secret could finally break free. “That was it. That was the only reason why. For the money.”

Optimus slowly turned his attention back onto you, his expression softening as his optics watched a single tear roll down your cheek.

“And that was me making a mistake. But without it, you wouldn’t be here. We wouldn’t be here.”

Reaching out for him, a slight ease relaxed your aching heart as Optimus still welcomed your touch. A loving sigh escaping him, as your delicate fingers ran the back of his servo.

“So... even if you have no faith in us, all I’m asking is you do what Dad taught me and Tessa. Look past all the junk and see the treasures.” Your hand ran up towards his wrist, gently pulling out your iron ring from under his metal plates. “You need to have faith, Prime, in who we can be.”

Optimus’ free servo curled into a relaxed fist, gently using the knuckle of his index digit to brush away a tear from your cheek. His touch feathered down your body, fingertips tracing each and every curve which the Autobot has now memorized. Carefully wrapping it around your waist, picking you up and bringing you closer to his height.

You were just about to say something, but Optimus’ lips lightly pressed against your own. Giving you a passionate kiss, as both closed your eyes, melting into each other's embrace. The cup slipped from your hand, landing upon the ground with a small shatter, while you wrapped both arms around the Autobot’s neck.

“Forgive me, my Sweet Spark.” Optimus pleaded, his kiss trailing down your neck.

“I-I just don’t want to lose you.” you turned your head to the side, giving him more room to kiss your neck.

“You could never lose me-”

The sound of an airplane's engine roared above, causing Optimus to briefly break away. As you both looked up at the night sky, seeing the lights from the metal wings.

“If only wishes could be made upon airplanes, like we do with shooting stars.” You sighed. Only to chuckle a little, that sounded a little corny.

“Why? What would you wish for?”

Your eyes returned to Optimus’ optics, “that we could have a moment of peace, with no interruptions. Just... Just us two being alone.”

“Well... we’re alone now.” The Autobot spoke, the small spark of desire zapping within his core. Causing his processors to stir his mind towards temptation. His thumb gently rubbing small circles upon your lower back.

A flirtatious smile teased the corners of your lips, “then... perhaps we should make the most of it.”

Without hesitation, Optimus’ lips returned to yours. As he carefully laid you upon the curved roof of the gazebo, his free servo trailing down towards the waist band of your PJ bottoms.

“I’ll start slow.” He promised, briefly allowing his lips to part from yours. “If I ever get too much. Please tell me, Sweet Spark.”

You silently nodded, as a small shade of pink dusted your cheeks.

Bringing both servos towards your thighs, massaging the muscles. While he placed passionate kisses along your neck, towards your collarbone. Butterflies disburse in your stomach, as a warming amber begun to flicker within your core.

Hearing your soft moans against his audio processors, heat begun to rise beneath Optimus’ metal plates. The fans in his vents barely able to keep his temperature at bay.

A low sigh escaped your lips, as Optimus’ glossa traced the curves of your cleavage. A shy smile teasing the corners of your mouth, as a satisfied hum rumbled deep within his throat. Hands embracing his helm, as Optimus’ mouth danced over your clothed breasts, softly biting through the fabric, leaving suttle bite marks upon your skin.

“Optimus...”

Your torso rolled and moved against his mouth. Hands exploring the worn parts of his helm, caressing his old battle scars. Your eyes closed, as your head gently rested against the gazebo’s roof.

Your breath hitched slightly, as Optimus’ placed a last kiss upon your hip. The small ambers within your core slowly rolled into a warm flame, once your eyes met his loving gaze. His hands cupping your ass, occasionally giving it a cheeky squeeze, as the desire pulsing through his Spark tore away the remaining pieces of his self-control.

“Don’t stop.” You encouraged, seeing the lust glossing over his optics.

A shaky breath leaving his lips, as you ran your hands towards your clothed core. Feeling Optimus’ digits twitch, as you opened your legs, causing the Autobot to fall onto his knees. His glossa licking his bottom lip, breath hitching as you slowly tugged your bottoms down your hips.

The scent of your arousal drove Optimus into a spin, a burning desire of want pulsing through his wires, as his beating Spark cried for satisfaction.

Sh-She smells so good. His processors teased.

“Th-These... are in the way.” Optimus lowly spoke, his servo’s gently tugging the waistband of your bottoms down a little more.

“Remove them then.”

A breathless gasp escaped you, as the Autobot tore away the clothing along with your laced undergarments. The sound of the tearing fabric leaving your body made your soaked core clench around nothing. As Optimus carelessly threw the items aside, burying his faceplate between your thighs before the clothes could even reach the ground.

Muffled whimpers tried to leave you, as you bit your bottom lip. Body quivering and legs trembling, as Optimus’ glossa caressed your folds. His servos returning to your thighs, gently placing your legs over his shoulders. Before using one of his servos to tease your wet, throbbing entrance.

Your back arched against the roof, a moan slipping from your mouth, as Optimus’ middle digit slowly entered your sweet spot. The satisfied growl coming from the back of the Autobot’s throat, rippled against your skin. His lips tenderly kissing tangled the nerves of your clit, as his digit pushed more into your depth. Your soaked core relaxing, as his servo gently rocked against you. Ripping more muffled whimpers and whines from you, with each plunge of his digit.

Electric volts raced through Optimus’ wires, as fireworks burst within his Spark. His engine revving, low moans rumbling within his throat, as his optics looked up at you. A smile forming upon his lips, as he witnessed the hot mess you slowly tuned into.

“You’re so wet, my darling.” His voice cooed, “you’re practically dripping down me. Perhaps, I should clean you up.”

Before words could form a question, a moan slipped from your lips as Optimus’ servo retreated from your core. Eyes widening, as his mouth kissed and sucked upon the glistening folds of your entrance. Your nails digging into his helm, scratching the navy-blue paint, as his glossa plunged into you without hesitation.

“Optimus! Optimus!”

His free servo quickly clasped against your mouth, muffling the whines of his name. A speechless command for quiet, as his passionate assault upon your soft spot didn’t ease.

Your eyes rolled shut, arching your back and melting into the heated moment. As your legs spread a little more, giving Optimus more space to push his lips against you. Allowing his glossa to go deeper into your wet depths.

His free servo slipped under the hem of your shirt, cupping and foundling with your breast. As the other trailed down, resting upon your neck. The tightening of your pussy around Optimus’ glossa, made his Spark begging for more.

You were unlike anything he’d ever had. How your soft, organic body molded just oh so perfectly, against his servos and faceplate. The sweet essence of your soaked core, dripping down his glossa- providing a taste that made the Prime wonder how he ever lived this long without it. The sound of your voice moaning his name felt like a beautiful melody to him. A sirens song that you sang only for him.

Your eyes fluttered open, as a breathless gasp slipped from your mouth. Biting your bottom slip, while another moan of Optimus’ name bubbled in your throat. Heat erupted in your core, a burning fire of desire warming your body, as an ache built up between your legs. Your hips rocking against Optimus’ faceplate, as nerves tangled together within your lower adomiain. A wave of pleasure building up, as the Autobot devoured your wet pussy. His glossa gliding in and out of your soaked entrance, lathering up your essence upon his glossa, like he had been stranded in a desert for days. And your body was the oasis, which held the key to a lifesaving nectar.

“Oh...” you whined, as Optimus pulled away, causing your hand to slip down by your sides again. The wave of pleasure slowly settling down, as the fire within your core caused an ache. His servo retreating from underneath your shirt.

“Forgive me, Sweet Spark.” He lowly spoke, wiping your glistening essence off his mouth and chin. Using the back of his servo, “but I need some... relief of my own.”

His servo’s gently caressed your lower back, cradling your soft body as he picked you up. Bringing you closer to him, as Optimus shifted into a standing position.

Your blush radiating a little more warmth upon your cheeks, as your eyes lowered to his modesty plate. Biting your lip a little, as the metal buckled from some hidden pressure behind it.

Optimus’ low groans caught brought your attention back, noticing that the Autobot had trouble stepping over the fence which was on the left side of the of the courtyard. The fence divided the courtyard of the abandoned cathedral, and the community pool next door.

Sitting down upon the overgrown grass, you straddled Optimus’ lap as he bent down and cupped your face. Placing soft, delicate kiss upon the top of your head and forehead. You could feel his modesty buckling more beneath you, as you grinded against the surprisingly light metal.

“Be mine, my love.” His breathless plea brushed against your ear. Causing the fire in your core to burst, as Optimus’ Spark pulsed through his wires, “spend one night with this Prime, and I swear you’ll never want to love another.”

Your hand caressed his cheek, as a loving sigh escaped your lips. “You already make feel like I don’t want another, Optimus Prime. For it’s you who has my heart- my whole heart.”

You slightly adjusted your position, as Optimus removed his modesty plate. Eyes widening as you admired the size of his spike, the flickering flames within your core burned into a heat of want. A fire matching Optimus’ electric pulses of desire.

Positioning himself near your close, using the tip of his spike to tease your throbbing entrance. Servo’s trailing down your torso, feeling every delicate curve as his palms rested against your outer thighs. His digits caressing the soft skin of your ass.

A moan slipping from you, as his spike slipped into your soaking core. Your hands sliding from his faceplate, and onto his chassis. Gripping onto his chest plate, as your velvety walls felt every ribbed inch that Optimus gently thrusted into you.

Optimus’ helm slowly tilted back, as his optics rolled shut. His engine purring, his Spark pulsing, vents cooling as he began to thrust into you. Cables tightened throughout his body, as the sensation of your essence dripping down him, sent Optimus’ processors into a spin. His scanners picking up your racing heart, as his Spark matched its rhythm. A knot begun to tighten deep within your core, as your body adjusted to the Autobot’s size.

Your features flushed red, breasts bouncing with each thrust as you leaned forwards. The water reflecting off the outdoor pool, made the sweat upon your body glimmer slightly, as it dripped down your neck and back. Hair sticking to you, as your forehead rested against Optimus’ chassis, low whimpers and moans leaving your lips, as his hips picked up rhythm.

“Primus! You’re so tight! So wet!”

His digits begun to clench your ass, causing a low hiss to slip from you. Biting your bottom lip, trying to stop a scream of pleasure escape you. As you bounced and grind against his spike, never feeling so stretched yet so full at the same time. Knowing fair well that this mechanical God of a man, has absolutely ruined you. Optimus’ spike plunged into your soaked core, each thrust hitting your cervix harder and harder. Teasing the knot behind it, to come undone.

“Y-You feel so good-”

“Shut up and fuck me!”

A satisfied growl rumbled deep within Optimus’ throat, your breathless command making the pulsing electricity within him, burst like fireworks. His optics fluttering open, as he tried to blink away the lust that glossed over his vision.

“Your body was made for my love, Sweet Spark.” Gripping tightly upon your ass, making your body bounce harder against him. Pushing your hips down and meeting his, the tip of his spike slapping against your g-spot.

“O-Optimus... Optimus!”

Your grip upon his chassis tightened, as the knot in your core caused your legs to quiver. The rocking and thrusting of your hips, turning into an unforgiving pace, as your wave of pleasure began to build. Cables tightened inside Optimus’ body, as his body prepared for an upcoming overload.

“Oh! Oh, fuck.”

A breathless gasp escaped Optimus’, as your soaked core tightened around his throbbing spike. Your body falling against his chassis, as the warm feeling of his trans-fluids painted your insides. His sticky fluid, and your glistening essence covering your thighs and his.

A small whimper left your lips, as Optimus carefully lifted you off his spike. Your heavy breathes fogging up his chassis, as your fingers scratched a little more of his blue paint off. Eyes fluttering, your body slumping against him, as it felt like all the energy and strength was taken from your body. Barely able to lift your head, as you gave the Autobot a contented smile. His vents working overtime, trying to cool down the warmth that radiated from his body.

Cradling you against him, Optimus carefully shuffled towards the pool. Lowering himself into the water, making sure that the level only came to your waist. Both happily sighing as the cool water, felt refreshing against your warm bodies.

“This... feels nice.” Your tone was sleepy, as your head rested against his chest.

“It does.” Optimus placed a soft kiss upon the top of your head. His free servo grabbing a nearby towel, dragging it into the water, and wrapping it around your waist. Giving you a little bit of modesty. “Rest, my Sweet Spark. For I shall watch over you.”

“I love you, Optimus Prime.”

“And I you, Y/N Yeager.”

Tag List

@ursamajor17 @crowleysthings @k----a27s @lainekyuu @manticcashew @goreismyforte @imachaoticghost @person101lol @silverelfy-blog @nataliahemsworth @musicalmedli @buena-lili @imobssesedwithtoomanysheet @skylarstormheart @the-unhinged-raccoon @ag3ntsw8n @moonsua1 @unadulteratedwizardrunaway @silverelfy-blog

#optimus prime x reader #optimus x reader #optimus prime x you #bayverse transformers #bayverse optimus x reader #transformers x reader #transformers x you #optimus prime #x reader #bayverse x reader #optimus prime bayverse #transformers fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic writing #transformers #x y/n #x fem!reader #gardens light

358 notes · View notes

bowieandqueen11 · 8 months

Text

Not Just A Trinket / Izzy Hands Imagine

Request: hi! ur writing is EVERYTHING btw. ur an amazing writer. you mentioned you wanted to write for izzy hands again and i have a request– feel free to ignore if it's not what ur looking for :) maybe izzy hands x reader where the reader has a small gift for him (a little trinket, a beaded crystal bracelet– something they made for him) but they're WAY too anxious to give it to him because they're scared he won't like it so they end up just carrying it around, trying to build up the courage to give it to him pfft

AHHH thank you so much my lovely, that's so sweet of you, and so is this idea!!! :3 Also I know I'm a little early in the timeline mentioning Davy Jones but I like to think of Izzy as a trendsetter ;)

Warning: mentions of fighting/ injury and strong language, some sexual innuendo!

(I do not own OFMD or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @nadsdraws.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

Izzy Hands was beginning to detest feeling like this.

He would rather charge sword first at a horde of raging Englishmen: would prefer to scrabble and scrape and scratch through the eye sockets of thousands of the Spanish with naught but his bloodied fingernails. Hell, even grovelling under the sole of the snivelling wreck that now possessed his former boss like a twisted nightmare, a horrid regret, would be preferable. If his hand wasn't too firmly attached to tangled rope of one of the shrouds in a death grip, if his glove wasn't close to bursting at the seams with how tightly he was gripping, he had half a mind to draw his dagger out of its scabbard and gouge his heart out right there and then.

He looked furious. So much so, that Roach was quick to side step him as he hopped down the steps with fresh sewing materials in his hand, giving a final look back at the intent man who only bared his teeth at the cook in response. Valuing his life, or at least the ability to keep all his fingers, if the sight of the keen blade being twisted between Izzy's free fingers told him anything, Roach is quick to recoil back and raise a concerned eyebrow in Wee John's direction. He in turn just rolls his eyes and lowers his head back to his sewing, but the rest of Stede's crew are astute enough, from where they're lingering around the deck, to notice the thick tension brewing like cold shivers of electricity in the air. Even Jim and Oluwande were giving each other side eyes, pausing their hammering at the helm to dart their eyes to their side and trace the path of Izzy's line of sight.

It never wavered. Every time they looked, it never changed. He had spent the last two hours gaping sourly towards the edge of the quarter deck. Gawking solely at you, without a single movement, without a single flicker outside the bubble where you hunched.

You thought he was angry at you for arranging a special outing for Ed and Stede at Datura Grotto, finally indulging in finding a way for them to spend some time alone after your Captain had begged and hounded you for days; he had become so accustomed to bursting through doors trying to find you and ask for your help, that the poor daunted man nearly burst into tears when he smashed your bedroom door into your nose and nearly broke it. The rest of the crew believed he was plotting something: trying to pick out the quieter members of their friends first, as payback for being stuck on this so called 'straight out of Davy Jones' arsehole' of a ship for so long.

Izzy, though. Izzy knew he was smitten. And he fucking hated it. He hated feeling so vulnerable.

Out of all the crew members still pretending to mill about, only Lucius was daring enough to purse his lips and look brazenly back at Blackbeard's first mate. Only Lucius, in fact, was feeling equally brave, and equally vexatious that fine afternoon to muster up the courage to slide up beside him. 'Someone in a bad mood today, are we?'. He taps the ships railing with the point of his nail, the broom he had been pretending to sweep splintered pieces off the floor a moment ago soon forgotten about as he leans it against the side of the ship. He replaces the loss by dropping his hand to his hip, cocking his head and smiling at an increasingly agitated looking Izzy. 'Would it have anything to do with that fine young sea farer over there by any chance? How romantic, Dizzy Izzy. Oh, I do love a good fix-me-up-'

Oh, he was enjoying this.

Izzy's quick to snap, not even bothering to look in Lucius' direction. 'Fuck off, before I do you a favour and cut that little seducing tongue out of your mouth for you.' Lucius watches Izzy's fingers tighten into leather clad black balls on the rope ladder, and doesn't need a second warning to trot off back towards his friends again. With a final wide eyed look of shock, he turns back to Black Pete and shrugs, holding his hands up as if to say that he tried his best.

All the while, you just keep your gaze steady out and onto the brewing horizon of the sea, watching as foam shook out like reaching hands around your ankles as they across cut through the wave crests, only the salty sting of thrumming silence keeping you company underneath his watchful gaze. The beaded necklace you had spent the last week or so threading together, carefully crafted by trembling fingers and a bit tongue during long evenings spent in your hammock, was beginning to feel like an anchor weight in your pocket. You tried to distract yourself with mundane, idle chit chat with a very thankful Lucius, who had swung over to your side after Pete convinced him to go scouting out for some more gossip. Swinging his legs between the latches of the port quarter, he merrily took the hammer you were idly holding from your hand and began to 'fix up the ship', his wrist barely moving as he turned to you with a scheming smile.

'So, do you know what's going on then? Why Izzy's acting like this? I swear, that man. If he doesn't bend over right now and try to get that stick out of his arse, he's going to be a miserable sad sack of repressed irritation forever. He's like a jack in the box. I swear to god, I'm just waiting for him to burst.' The tone of his voice sounds almost worried, but Lucius is smiling and waggling his eyebrows the whole while. 'That would be kind of funny, actually. I've always imagined him as a stamper. Or maybe a screamer-'

You have no idea what to say, not understanding Lucius' oh so unsubtle hints, so you just run your fingers over the bulge in your pocket once more and chime in to his rant from time to time with a disinterested 'hmm' or distracted 'oh, yeah. Definitely.' It really didn't help that you were beginning to blush the same champagne hue as the bubbles between your toes with how gravely Izzy was staring at the side of your face. It was growing increasingly harder not to give into the temptation: to not just swing your head around and meet his hard-set eyes head on.

Once he realises you're dead set on staying right there, away from him, hiding in the corner all day, he sighs and let's go of the sails, marching off to do another impromptu inspection of the boarded vessel. It's an easy distraction: yelling orders at Wee John, spitting insults at Roach as he scurries out of Izzy's way, stealing the Swede's cup out of his hand and spraying beads of coffee around Buttons' feet. All of it was a Grade A fantastic distraction, and Izzy was hell bent on forgetting just how quickly time had gone by that day: Ed and the moronic, sappy, massive twat of an arse Stede would be back from their foliage constitutional any minute now, and Izzy was acutely aware that he was running out of both minutes, and chances to ask you to take a walk with him on the island himself. He had spent far too much of the morning wasting away, leaning his back on Stede's antique armoire and watching you with crossed arms: like a weathered statue, the growing umbra he cast somehow seeming to reach its tendrils out and blanch the fringes of the doorway. Even Fang and Ivan had been too terrified to come near him, and so he had been left alone. A silent sentinel, trying to figure out why the fuck his heart was cracking against the cage of his ribs and tearing their ligaments to shreds.

You hadn't exactly made things any easier for the man: feeling so intimated, you had spent the whole morning begging your friends to whisk you away from him at the first sign of danger. Whether that meant ducking behind Frenchie's lute like a crab, or hiding like a bulky turtle under the large bit of crimson cloth Oluwande was fiddling with the tassels of, you had used any form of escape to save you from the embarrassment of having to be near him. To let him see how flustered you became just at the overwhelmingly intense pressure you felt in the air any time he swaggered over to your side: to hide the fact that your eyes would widen in abject horror, your breath hitching any time the back of his gloved hand would 'accidentally' brush against your wrist as he went on his merry way, pretending it was all by accident. That it was all just a little game to him.

Little did you know, that he was feeling exactly the same way. The one time he had dared to come over to you that day had been an unmitigated disaster. He thought he was being... well, as kind as he possibly could be by slapping you on the shoulder and saying 'how good of a job you're doing.' He was nodding his head between every word, that jilted, simpering smile on his face as he supplemented his sentiment with an incredibly heartfelt 'at least Y/n knows how to do a fucking thing on this ship, not like you lot of useless fucking fuckers they have to work with. The rest of you are embarrassing, really.' He went to walk away, the side of his wrist glancing against the back of your hand as he finished with a breathless 'you lot could learn a thing or two from Y/n.'

He had staggered away from you as if mortally wounded, tongue bitten between his teeth as he tried as nonchalantly as possible to make his way back to the stern of the ship. While you were busy trying to bury your head down into your chest and avoid the smirking faces of Lucius and Pete, you happened to notice from the side of your eye that with each step Izzy was ringing out his hand. To your surprise, he used his teeth to rip his glove off, tucking it under his armpit as he wrangled with his fingers; he couldn't stop every cell burning as if it had just been reeled under the bottom of the ship. Couldn't understand why his fingertips wouldn't stop shaking as he flexed them.

Lucius was right. He was about to erupt, and he wondered if he'd ever be alright again.

It took until the sun nearly bowing over the jaded unicorn surmounting the anterior of the Revenge for you to find the courage to finally slink away from your convenient hiding spot to go over to Izzy. Well, that and the feel of Lucius literally dragging you up by the wrist and giving you a well meaning shove in the back towards the helm.

'Oh, fuck me', Izzy hisses as he watches you approach, turning his back to you to hide how flustered he was becoming with each tugging step at his heart you take towards him. He nearly jumps high enough to fall face first off the side of the boat when he feels your hand tentatively tap his shoulder, but he manages to inhale sharply and compose himself as best as he can before he flicks his eyes to look at you.

'I-uh-', you swallow thickly, shakily drawing your hand away from him and tucking it behind your back. 'I-, uh. I, I mean, I-'. The two of you, a far change of pace from usual, can barely keep your eyes on each other.

You feel like throwing your shoe at Lucius when you register the all too familiar sing song-y chime of his voice murmuring 'say something!' from behind your back. 'Or I swear to god, I'll kiss the man for you!'

'Well, I-', you start again, shooting the most vicious glare you could strangle out of you back at your friend. With a final sigh, you continue: 'I saw your necklace, and I don't mean to pry- but since you're always wearing black, which of course is incredibly cool, I just- well, I thought it needed a burst of colour.' Without a second thought, you scramble to pull your makeshift necklace out of your trousers, and shove the glistening glass emeralds and burnished pearls into his fist.

'It's just a silly thing, really. I saw Stede fixing Ed's red fabric and I just thought... well, you don't have to wear it. It's just a trinket, it's stupid. Really, you don't have to wear it. I'm sorry-'. After a pause, the burning sensation is enough to make you turn on your heel and bashfully start to make a break for the Rec Centre, just to get as far away from him as possible.

'It's not just a trinket.' The softness of his tone, despite how harshly he sounds out the letters makes you swivel back in surprise. He takes the opportunity to take a step forward and grab onto your wrist. He tugs you closer, until you're standing dangerously close to him: if he were to inhale deeply now, to puff his chest out just a tenth of an inch, your belly buttons would be tightly pressed upon each other. You can already feel his buttons strain against your shirt as he whistles out through bunched teeth, the breath sharp and warm against the side of your jaw. 'Don't say that. Never say that. It came from you, so it's not-... just, don't say that.'

He blinks, slowly releasing his viper grip.

'I like it. I really do. Thank you.' He motions awkwardly with a flick of his fingers to the side of his neck. 'Would you mind? With the gloves, I'm... not very good with clasps. Haven't, haven't used one in a long time.'

You can't stop your head from nodding, feeling like a wound up spring toy as you unfurled his fingers again and took the gift back. With a final swallow, you try not to turn cerise as you gently roll down the collar of his shirt. It folds easily down over his vest, until your bare fingers are dragging over the naked line of skin on his neck, just teasingly hiding the tense muscles of his upper back.

'You really didn't have to do this for me, you know.'

'Yeah... but I wanted to. You're not as much of an arsehole as Stede tries to make out.' You manage out a giggle, before you're back to biting your bottom lip in concentration, brushing a few strands away from the back of his head.

He wants to say more, but his voice chokes in the back of his throat like rifting water, his mouth trembling as your fingers brush over the coiled grey hairs bristling at the nape of his neck. It feels like a red hot poker is being dragged across his skin; he shivers at the feeling, a tight coil rolling across his limbs before settling uncomfortably heavy in the pit of his stomach.

He looks like he's about to weep when you take a step back, reaching up with a final pat to make sure the little metal swallow that adorns the centre of your necklace is lying perfectly against his breast. You may have lingered there a little longer than necessary... long enough for your palm to begin burning against the firm muscle of his pec, and for Lucius to draw out an enunciated wolf whistle, but it was definitely worth it. Even the sound of Frenchie snickering from the barrel he was perched on down on the deck was drowned out by the thrumming toll in your ears: by the sound of Izzy's sharp breath piercing your ear as he wavered uneasily on the spot. He didn't want to move away from you, not yet. He could barely even hear them. For the first time in his life, he didn't even fucking care. All he could focus on, over the bridge of his nose - through the gentle curls of his tired eyelashes, was you.

He was intoxicated - but even worse, he was finally beginning to understand. By god, he wondered. What the fuck had you done to him? Could this really be what Edward feels? Could anyone, really, feel this much?

'I hear swallows are meant to bring good luck', you state with bated breath, fingering the charm you had picked up from a market stall at the Republic of Pirates for a final time. It had reminded you almost immediately of Izzy: a hidden treasure, glistening white-gold, like fresh sunlight flitting across the glitter combs littered across the sea beds. It had been well buried within piles of muck: old straw, rotten bits of moulding fruit, bloodied bones twisted into odd shapes that you could barely recognise, but it had been lying there. Waiting just for you. A needle in the haystack. The final piece of the puzzle.

Izzy's breath draws in sharply as you absentmindedly begin to brush your pointer finger up and up: tracing the edge of his jaw line before rolling over the same bird tattoo lacing his neck, your eyes still drawn to the gap between his shirt where his Adam's apple lay tautly.

'Yes. Very good luck', he states, amazed he even found his voice. Surprisingly, he doesn't even try to pull away. He lets you trace your finger over the beak, gliding across the round belly until they're dancing teasingly over its tail. In fact, without his wonderous, dipped eyes looking away from you, he seems to be tilting his head in time, allowing you easier access to brush against his skin and steal his soul with every movement.

Before he has time to think of the repercussions of what he was about to do, the leather of his gloves flex around your cheeks and Izzy Hands has bowed his back down over you, lips knocking against yours. It's terse, and rather urgent in its forcefulness; it was both a slip of outrageous passion, and a terse reminder of his years out of practice feeling any sort of physical affection, and yet you couldn't help but brush up even closer to the man. He welcomes you eagerly, even though this eternity lasted only a moment: with his thumb, he tilts the jut of your chin up so he can lick his tongue against your bottom lip all the more easily. His knee slides forward until it knocks against your own, lurching you forward and saving him the embarrassment of having to voluntarily admit to his weakness and slide his other hand around the pulse point of your neck, until he was cradling the bone of your shoulder.

He finally draws back, his tongue darting out to lick along the edge of his top lip. 'Yeah, very lucky indeed.' He seems sorrowful to be letting go of you, but the loud whistling and snorting that begins to bounce back and forth between Stede's crew snaps Izzy back to himself. With a final glance back down to your lips, he struts off to pick up Lucius' long abandoned broom and starts chasing him across the ship with it.

#our flag means death #ofmd #izzy hands #izzy hands imagine #izzy hands x reader #israel hands #israel hands imagine #israel hands x reader #lucius spriggs #edward teach #stede bonnet #ofmd imagine #izzy ofmd #izzy ofmd imagine #con o'neill

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slavonicrhapsody · 2 months

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thoughts on demigod daddy issues

I’m avoiding my responsibilities and my poll is proving controversial, so I thought I’d do my own writeup on each candidate:

Morgott: His dad presumably abandoned him in a sewer. Given Godfrey’s association with the crucible, I doubt it was Godfrey’s decision to confine the omen twins to the sewers and I have no doubt that he loved them, seeing Godfrey’s tender moment holding Morgott’s body. However, the twins ended up in that sewer nonetheless. Either Godfrey opposed this but didn’t fight for them hard enough, or he concluded it was for their own good. Still, Morgott defends the Erdtree like his father before him. Certified daddy issues

Mohg: Same backstory as Morgott, except we don’t get that poignant moment that we do with Godfrey and Morgott in the game. He seems to have abandoned everything Godfrey stood for anyway. Daddy issues present but not to the same extent as his brother

Miquella: For a while, he was daddy’s ultimate special golden boy. They crafted golden order fundamentalist incantations together as gifts for each other (and it’s never mentioned that Radagon did anything like this with his other children). He tried his very hardest to use the Golden Order’s teachings to heal his sister’s afflictions, but they ultimately could not save her and he turned his back on his father’s order. We don’t know how Radagon reacted, but based on his zealotry combined with his previous relationship with his son, there must have been a serious fallout. Certified daddy issues

Malenia: There aren’t any textual hints to her and Radagon’s relationship, but we can speculate. Her father’s order couldn’t heal her afflictions… did she feel like her father didn’t try hard enough for her? That he chose his own faith over her wellbeing? Subtextual daddy issues

Ranni: She probably despises her father for abandoning her mother and leaving her a broken husk; her mother, who was her greatest teacher and role model, who she protects and whose legacy and memory she continues to defend. On top of that, she despises her empyreanhood and wants no part of the Two Fingers’ designs. I wouldn’t be surprised if she blamed her father for the fingers’ hold on her fate, too. Certified daddy issues; however, she doesn’t seem to revel in any hatred for him and just does what needs to be done to realize her vision

Rykard: Mr. “Lord of Blasphemy,” son of Mr. “leal hound of the Golden Order.” You don’t dedicate your entire life to opposing everything your own father stands for, fight the “most appalling battle in the entirety of the Shattering,” feed yourself to the embodiment of treason against the Erdtree, or make it your goal to “devour the very gods” (god being your father’s counterpart), and not have some kind of daddy issues complex. There’s a potent and multifaceted dynamic here. The red feathers on the Gelmir knight helms might indicate a reverence for his father’s legacy. He worked alongside his father in enforcing the Golden Order’s rule of law. Yet he doesn’t seen to have ever held any personal loyalty to his father’s order, having planned to betray it long before he actually committed treason. He demonstrates affection for his mother, brother, and sister, but not his father. He lusts for his own power and independent authority, but echoes the violence carried out by his father in his own practices. What does his father mean to him? Is he a role model, or a tyrant, something to be destroyed and replaced? Or is he both? Certified implied daddy issues

Radahn: He inherited his famous red lion’s mane from Radagon, who was said to have hated his own red hair. He admires his father and his “heroic” legacy. Yet he walks around in Godfrey cosplay, seeking to emulate Godfrey’s legendary example on the battlefield. He doesn’t seem to have inherited Radagon’s love of the Erdtree, either. “I was born a champion’s cub. Now, I am the lord of the battlefield’s lion.” Though he admires his father’s strength, there seems to be a distance between them, a distance that has deepened his obsession with Godfrey as a role model. Did he feel under-appreciated by Radagon? self-conscious? abandoned? Certified daddy issues

Godwyn: We have no idea what his relationship to his father was. It is interesting that he takes a more reconciliatory approach to conflict than Godfrey, though.

Godrick: I don’t think we technically know who his direct father is; I think it’s likely he’s further down the line of Marika’s descendants rather than being a direct son of someone like Godwyn. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have some of the most potent issues with the legacy of his forebears in the game. He’s obsessed with living up to the legacy of the golden lineage, so much so that he steals other people’s limbs to make himself stronger. He constantly references Godfrey; his axe is an homage to him. “Great Godfrey, didst thou witness?” Everything he does is to make himself into what he believes to be more worthy of his lineage. Certified “daddy” issues. yes this still counts to me

#elden ring #there are very few wrong answers here in my opinion #this isn’t meant to influence the poll i’m just sick of dimensioning floor plans

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axelsagewrites · 1 year

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Most People Say Goodbye

Pairing: Sandor x F!Bolton!Reader

Summary: Sandor and (Y/N) have a secret relationship at kings landing which crumbles when he disapears after the battle of blackwater. Eventually though your paths cross again

Part one of two

TW: swearing (its the hound so you could guess lol)

Requested by Annon

Words: 2704

Masterlist Here

The first time you ever saw Sandor you couldn’t help but stare. You weren’t the only one to stare but the only one not to do so out of disgust. He was fascinating. The way he moved, spoke, the fact he did not seem to care what anyone thought of him. It was refreshing.

Your father Roose Bolton had sent you away to be a ward of Eddard Stark when you were fairly young. He had always not so subtly encouraged you to find someone to marry, specifically from another great house of the north. Every time he saw you, he asked about the Karstarks or the Starks, always wondering how Robb had been. But you knew little about Robb other than him being Sansa’s older brother.

Sansa was your best friend in the north and you were stood behind her when the king came to visit. It was also when you first laid eyes on the man in the hound helm. It didn’t take long for you to find out everything about him. You were good at finding out what was what and who had done this and that. It was probably one of the reasons Sansa liked you so much.

He always sat by himself or by other knights during feasts. Even when he was with others he rarely spoke. Your father had encouraged you in a raven to travel to kings landing and Ned had been happy to bring you along to accompany Sansa. During your month long ride, you never even seen the hound speak more than once.

One day during your travels you were walking around a forest, trying to stretch your legs before being shoved back into a dark and stuffy carriage. As you were walking you say a rabbit and without thinking crouched down to say, “Hello there,” the rabbit bounced up to you before its head snapped to the side and suddenly it ran off. “Fine then,” you grumbled standing up.

You turned to see a very annoyed Sandor Clegane staring at you. You froze. “Are you stupid girl?” his questioned snapped you out of it and your face screwed up in anger, “I had a perfect shot. You’re lucky I don’t shoot you,”

As he turned to storm off you couldn’t help yourself, “It was only a bloody rabbit,”

“What?”

“I said it was only a rabbit,” you said as he turned to face you, “If its that rare for you to get a ‘perfect shot’ for a rabbit maybe you should hunt something else,”

He laughed but it was not a happy laugh, “Alright girl,” he said “you catch me a fucking rabbit then. If you wont fall as soon as you have to slit its throat that is,” he spat, tossing his spear on the ground, before turning off to go back to camp.

With a huff you turned and looked where the rabbit had been. If he wanted a rabbit, he could have a fucking rabbit. You picked up the spear and set off.

When the warning horn rang meaning you would be setting off again you turned to walk back to camp. Everyone was packing up to leave as you searched for Sandor who was strapping something to his horse.

“Here,” you said as you tossed his spear at his feet. He looked down confused until he saw the four rabbits speared and skinned on his spear, “Try not to burn them when you cook them. Unless you eat them raw of course,” you smiled before walking back to your carriage you shared with Sansa, Arya, and Septa.

When you finally arrived at kings landing you saw Sandor all the time but rarely spoke. He acted as Joffrey’s shadow, and you were always with Sansa. Despite this you never had a reason to speak but you wished you did. Sansa often would complain about how freakish he was, and Arya was convinced he was the devil. But for some reason you remained fascinated.

You were sitting with Sansa in the gardens when the prince approached, the hound not far behind. “Leave us lady Bolton. I wish to talk to my betrothed alone,”

“Yes, your grace,” You nodded and curtsied, turning to Sansa “goodbye lady stark,” as you walked past the prince you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Why Sansa was obsessed with him you couldn’t understand. You hadn’t even noticed Sandor looking at you till you saw a smile on his face. That was even rarer than him talking.

“You too dog,” you heard Joffrey say as you left, “go on run along,”

You could hear his armour moving as he walked and despite him not rushing he had caught up to you quickly due to his height, “Not a fan either then?”

“That depends,”

“On what?”

“Who’s asking?” you were out of sight of the prince and Sansa by a short pier off the side of the gardens that faced over the front of the waters by kings landing.

“That’s already answered my question girl,” you rolled your eyes and walked down the pier.

You stood at the end of the pier and turned to see Sandor a couple feet behind you, “You saw me roll my eyes you already knew my answer,”

“You should learn to lie better then,”

“Why?” you said facing the water again, “Are you someone who shouldn’t know the truth?”

“I know the truth girl,” he spat, “but you shouldn’t trust everyone you meet,”

“I don’t trust you,” you said turning back to face him. “you could push me off this pier to drown and no one could prove it. but you also seem to hate everyone you meet so who are you going to tell?”

This time he stepped closer, “I could push you in, you make it so tempting after all,” it might have scared you if you didn’t see a smile ghosting his lips, “but I don’t hate everyone I meet. Just the cunts. It just so happens majority of the lord pricks and lady pricks here are,”

“But not all of us?”

“Not all of you,” he agreed as he turned and walked away.

“Most people say goodbye you know?”

“Im not most people girl,”

From then you began to talk to Sandor more. He often ran into you at the garden or specifically at the pier and you were starting to think it was deliberate. Then Ned Stark was executed.

Your whole world had fallen upside down. Not wanting to ‘ruin Sansa’s pretty face’ Joffrey had appointed you as her whipping girl of sorts. Every time she did something she wasn’t supposed to Ser Meryn Trant would beat you and Sansa would scream. Eventually she gave in, and your beatings became less.

Initially it had been the hound told to hit you across the face but he refused. Joffrey began screaming when truant stepped in and slapped you so hard you fell. After that he stalked off with truant complaining about Sandor who stayed behind to pick you up. Sansa roughly pulled you away from him and scurried you both back to her chambers.

Later that night he came to visit you at your chambers for the first time. “Come in,” you said when he knocked. Sandor stood awkwardly in your doorway as you sat on your bed. “Close the door. I don’t think you’re supposed to be here,”

“Im not,” he said as he shut the door, “but I had to make sure you were okay,”

“Im okay,” you smiled, patting the spot next to you on your bed, “It wasn’t that sore,”

“Bullshit,” he said, looking at your bed hesitantly till you patted it again. He stalked over and cautiously sat on your bed, as if he was afraid it would break, “I saw him hit you. I saw him fall. And I let him”

“What were you supposed to do? Its not like you could stop him permanently. Joffrey would just have someone else do it,”

“Unless I killed the king,”

“Do not kill the king.”

“Why not? Fuck the king.”

“Yes, fuck the king. Not fuck you,” you said looking at him like he had went crazy, “if you kill Joffrey Cersei Lannister would have your head on a pike and I do not need to see any more heads on spikes,”

“You’re going to see plenty more with that bitch on the throne,”

“And I will cope with that but not if yours joins them,” you grabbed his hand and ignored the startled look on his face, “I can deal with a few slaps. My brother used to kick me up and down the place when I was at the Dreadfort,”

“Then I’ll kill him next,” he said and you sighed. “Look, girl, I just don’t like seeing you suffer,”

“Then don’t die. Just,” you paused looking at him, “just stay with me. Please? Just sit with me for a while,”

And he did. Your secret relationship became official. All the build up had led to Sandor sharing your bed and hiding in your chambers or in the garden with you whenever you could.

Until the battle of blackwater that is. You had been ushered into the room with all the women and children unable to do anything about what was going on outside. You never even got to say a proper goodbye to Sandor.

The night before he had given you a gift, however. “What am I supposed to do with this?” you asked holding the dagger in your hands.

“If Stannis’s men make it into the holdfast you have two choices. You can either slit their throats or your own. I won’t blame you either way but I wont let you go into this unprotected because you’re a fool if you think you’ll be safe. Especially not if his men see you,”

“I understand,” you said and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I know what to do,”

“Good,” he said, “and as soon as the battle is over I’ll find you,”

But he didn’t.

The battle came and went, and Sandor was nowhere to be found. you heard he had ran, that he’d fled, but it wasn’t possible. He wouldn’t leave you he promised he’d come back. But now he was gone.

You felt like a ghost walking the castle. Not even Sansa could lift your spirits and she couldn’t tell why.

You thought you’d be stuck in kings landing forever but to your surprise Petyr Baelish knocked on your door one night with a map and a bag of gold.

“But what about Sansa?”

“She’s not safe anywhere,” He said, “You can run, and Cersei will put a few silver stags on your head and no more. Sansa would have all the knights out looking for her. You can go. You can be safe,”

“I didn’t even get to say goodbye,” you couldn’t help but cry. You did not want to do what Sandor had done to you to her, “Let me say goodbye,”

“I can’t. I would if I could. Believe me,” but I didn’t, “Write her something. Quickly,” he ushered me to my desk where you quickly scrawled a half written goodbye before he took the paper from you and rushed you out the door.

He led you out of the castle through secret passages without giving you a chance to even say goodbye to Sansa. Then you stood outside of the Castle wall with a horse he had bought for you and normal clothes and a cloak for you to wear.

“Why are you helping me?” you asked as he helped lift you onto your horse.

“You’re not safe here. You need to go to your brother. Go to the dreadfort. You’ll be safe there,”

Safe. With your brother. Unlikely but despite everything he couldn’t possibly be as bad as Joffrey and it had been years since you last saw him. You were older now as was he.

“And Sansa?”

“Ill protect her. I promise. But you must go men will be on patrol soon. Ride fast,” and with that you fled kings landing.

The first ride you made to Kings Landing took a month in plush carriages with your friends. You would think going alone would be quicker but no. by the end you weren’t even sure how long you had been out there for. You had ran out of Petyr’s gold by the time you were a third of the way there. So many things happened but you tried to forget just as quickly as they happened.

You never expected your brothers face to be a relief. You felt on the verge of death when you finally saw the castle in sight. It took every ounce of strength to make it to the castle gates. However once you saw Ramsey you somehow managed to run to him. For once he hugged you back.

Everything felt perfect. Ramsey had matured and was the best brother you could ask for. You didn’t even have to leave your chambers because he had servants doting on you. You had no clue anything bad was even happening. Until you found out about Reek.

At points you questioned whether this was better than Kings landing. Then your father was given Winterfell, and no one would tell you why. But you knew Robb stark had to be dead. You cried. Sobbed. Realising it meant bran and reckon must be gone too.

One day Sansa appeared, and you found out she never got your letter. Baelish had tricked you and you didn’t know why. But you had an idea and now she was standing in front of you betrothed to marry the man that killed your father. Part of you was jealous you didn’t kill him yourself when Sansa filled you in.

You had all but given up before Sansa came but now you both had a reason to live. Theon finally managed to beat out Reek and the three of you held hands as you jumped off the wall.

Everything eventually became a blur. Your brother was defeated by Jon Snow who took you and Sansa in. You befriended wildings and finally returned to a Stark ran Winterfell. Jon left for a mission beyond the wall and left Sansa in charge. Despite her not being a Queen you were essentially her hand. Everything all most felt good despite everything that had happened and was looming.

Then the dragon queen came.

You watched as Sansa greeted her, knowing how much she feared Daenerys taking the north from her like your father had done. You watched her dragons fly overhead and wondered what it would feel like to ride one. You watched as Tyrion Lannister of all people walked into Winterfell. You saw the Army of the Unsullied in all their legendary glory. Then you saw him.

Sandor Clegane.

But he never saw you at first but you watched as his eyes searched the courtyard desperately looking for someone. Then his eyes finally met yours. He went to step forward but you had already turned and left for your chambers.

A while later Sansa knocked on your door, “Come in,” you called.

“Are you okay (Y/N)? You just disappeared,” She said as she said beside where you were lying on your bed.

“He’s here,”

“Who’s here?”

“Sandor,”

“You don’t need to be afraid of him anymore,” she said with a smile, “we’re not children anymore. He’s here to help us,”

“I was never afraid Sansa,”

“Well, I was. He has that ugly scar- “

“Will you shut up,” you snapped as you sat up in bed, “I was never afraid of him Sansa. I loved him and he left me,”

Sansa was shocked as you finally spilled what you had kept inside for years. You told her every detail but they were starting to be foggy with all the time that had past.

She was silent at first. “You should talk to him,” she eventually said, “he never should have left you.”

You stayed in your room till after the feast had started but for whatever reason as the chatter grew louder and the people drunker you decided it was time to confront him.

Part Two Here

A/N: Part two of the actual reunion should be up tomorrow so stay tuned

#sandor clegane #sandor clegane imagine #sandor clegane x reader #the hound #the hound imagine #the hound x reader #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones #got #got imagine #part 1 #request

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vesubia-jugorum · 6 months

Text

Here's my interpretation of the Hound's helm!

#asoiaf #sandor clegane #the hound #medieval armor #got #my stuff #graphite sketch #my art

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head-in-the-shrouds · 5 months

Text

366 Prompts For 2024:

One word prompts for 2024 (all 12 months) and some alternatives. These are mostly horror / fantasy aimed.

January (31):

Behold

Justice

Oak

Weave

Hook

Waggon

Torch

Jinx

Prey

Must

Lit

Keep

Vanquish

Yarrow

Intended

Tomb

Marsh

Leather

Blanket

Kin

Lordling

Promises

Heath

Rot

West

Under

Sworn

Rusted

Transformation

Quest

Pond

February (29):

Midwinter

Oath

Croak

Blush

Nimble

Malady

Deal

Roots

Willow

Orders

Moss

Lantern

Portent

Lovelock

Mourning

Horned

Keys

Earn

Remedy

Bog

Yearning

Lace

Trunk

Coiled

Linger

Soothsayer

Revenge

Oleander

Revered

March (31):

Metal

Pride

Gunpowder

Inheritance

Master

Brandish

Enchanted

Path

Sacrifice

Tailor

Crypt

Remain

Toad

Understanding

Legacy

Archway

Mirror

Omen

Home

Fur

Dust

Bow

Necklace

Sly

Permanent

Grin

Aim

Nest

Hex

Church

Valour

April (30):

Masonry

Inquiry

Ledge

Years

Hospitality

Clay

Priestess

Sunken

Lavender

Trust

Waters

Guilt

Dusk

Protection

Musket

Castle

Flee

Ancient

Value

Charm

Fever

Penance

Silk

Foxhole

Ornament

Tradition

Meld

Hare

Well

Pest

May (31):

Moonrise

Sea

Wander

Absolution

Bark

Ridge

Crackle

Sacred

Bind

Frozen

Thatch

Naming

Elder

Wealth

Dappled

Reading

Father

Cathedral

Tent

Grey

Payment

Enshrine

Tales

Velvet

Cell

Guide

Dawn

Mines

Riddle

Falling

Clock

June (30):

Vixen

Stolen

Worth

Tar

Alchemy

Fickle

Barrell

Harrow

Pyre

Chest

Worship

Steps

Armoury

Tear

Den

Ladder

Ruins

Bargain

Snake-leaves

Corn-doll

Garnet

Eccentric

Telescope

Antler

Stone

Break

Laden

Tower

Chain

Rook

July (31):

Masquerade

Pines

Mother

Herbs

Limb

Prize

Rescue

Scales

Melody

Shore

Tempest

Appease

Queen

Hermit

Separated

Bear

Righteous

Chimney

Storm

Manipulate

Boots

Apple

Rings

Crafted

Trail

Bleak

Dear-heart

Sanctify

Feast

Gathering

Door

August (31):

Luck

Display

Greed

Autumn

Found

Wildfire

Sleep

Grandfather

Watch

Hidden

Lookalike

Whimsey

Thicket

Runes

Horseshoe

Smoke

Awaken

Gargoyle

Wig

Poison

Thousand-fur

Shatter

Barrow

Tempt

Flag

Mercy

Web

Beast

Candle

Hunt

Serpent

September (30):

Belladonna

Magician

Birch

Reflection

Sight

Elaborate

Captive

Rope

Glass

Decades

Blade

Sorrow

Finickity

Carving

Stag

Fairy-tale

Spark

Blackthorn

Mountain

Century

Fury

Question

Claws

Fangs

Decay

Gift

Shipwreck

Blessed

Harvest

Crown

October (31):

Troll

Vines

Scattered

Prayer

Hatchet

Coat

Fireside

Grim

Sealed

Walled

Healing

Cobbled

Secure

Forest

Blind

Constellation

Shroud

Regal

Helm

Shadowed

Ward

Sinking

Hills

Goldsmith

Silver

Entwining

Soldier

Courtship

Guest

Defy

Crone

November (30):

Bones

Fear

Talisman

Song

Witness

Cloak

Plague

Hearth

Returned

Testament

Ceremonial

Yearning

Written

Silhouette

Gilded

Boundary

Hunger

Stranger

Fiend

Dungeon

Huntsman

Want

Birdsong

Wish

Hierophant

Favour

Dreaming

Coal

Brother

Fields

December (31):

Bottles

Curse

Horizon

Supplies

Wallowing

Hodge-podge

Thorns

Wisdom

Trinket

Warmth

Timber

Honest

Ritual

Welcome

Branches

Disguise

Bound

Gallows

Shield

Window

Finality

Tinder

Starlight

Winds

Bridge

Fortune

Tracks

River

Guardian

Summon

Warmth

Alternative Prompts:

Cunning

Puppet

Hound

Brambles

Eldritch

Garden

Eldritch

Cosmic

Bells

Tainted

Sleigh

Sect

Glowing

Coven

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kneexcutter · 5 months

Text

Bumblebee x Reader

Film: TF5 The Last Knight

(Old- unfinished)

. Reader is an autobot

“Wait wait let me get this straight…her and him are like a thing? Romantically?” Izabella asked looking between the two bots as they conversed in whatever conversation they were having from outside Cade’s trailer.

Cade chuckled while sitting back on his couch with a beer in his hand,.“I guess you could say that… hey between you and me, Bee’s had a school girl crush on Y/N for years.”

Izabella snickers, “Really?”

“Psh trust me it was obvious.”

“It’s sweet,” Izabella says looking back at the two through the window. “It’s nice that they lasted this long together.”

“It’s embarrassing that’s what, don’t let that face fool you, Y/N was dense as a rock, she’s an ass kicker I’ll tell you that though, nothing gets past her.”

“So she’s tough shit huh,” Izabella hums in admiration. “I bet she keeps your ass in check.”

“You have no idea, hey kid come on lemme show you something,” Cade says, taking a final sip of his beer and placing it on the table before getting up.

The two head outside when a slightly large spaceship comes down hovering above the junkyard. Cade groans realizing that it was Daytrader’s ship. “I hope your fat ass has something good this time cause I’m tired of your shit man.”

Daytrader put his servo in his chest plate, “Okay ouch words hurt Cade.”

Drift rolled his optics walking towards Daytrader pointing his sword at him, “Have you found our ship yet? Or are you still twisting on helms with your everlasting nonsense?”

“What the hell, I barely understand what’s coming out of your mouth,” Daytrader says, trying to avoid the tip of Drift's blade while dropping the stuff in his back in the process.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you scoffed, crossing your arms as Daytrader made his way over to Cade.

His helm turned in your direction and a cheesy grin made way in his face, “Heyyy Y/N how’s it been? Still hanging with these guys, eh?”

“Do you have our ship?” You ask, narrowing your optics at the greasy mech not too far from you.

“Well not exactly but I did manage to find this.“

Daytrader dropped a head in front of Cade,

“Check out Starscream’s head, found it in Buffalo.”

You rolled your optics as you went forward to grab the head that Cade pushed off to the side, you picked the head up and examined it carefully.

It brought you back memories, memories not of war but of peace, where Starscream was not your enemy. But your friend. A friend that betrayed you in those beginning moments of the war.

“You alright N/N?” Hound asked.

Cade turned his head looking upwards at you, he could see the look on your face plate that showed your processing thoughts as you held Starscream's head in your servos. Cade never asked much about your past; he only learned things about you through observation and from the other autobots.

But he knew when you were stressed. He turned his head towards Daytrader who was just now at this point arguing with Drift and Hound.

“Check it out, new voice box for Bee,” Daytrader said, snapping you out of your locked gaze.

“It’s gonna work this time?” Cade asks, grabbing it from him.

“Oh yeah, that will do the trick,” Daytrader nods.

“Hear that Bee you’re gonna talk!”

Bumblebee began to play ‘You couldn't touch this’ through his radio and began to dance. You looked at him and couldn’t help but laugh. Bumblebee outstretched his servo to you, giving him a skeptical look. You took it and he spun you around and left you slightly startled.

You glanced down at Izabella coming around the corner, you greeted her with a nod of your helm acknowledging her presence. She smiled at you and walked towards you, you placed your servo down letting her climb on before lifting her up and placing her on your shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” You asked the human girl.

Pointing at Starscream's head, “Isn’t that the decepticon from the battle of Chicago?”

You hum, “Yes he was, he was an old friend of mine before the war.”

“Really?”

You nod, “Unfortunately, Megatron’s influence was quite strong; it won over Starscream’s in an instant… at least he’s with the Allspark now…”

“Aye don’t fret too much hun, I’m sure Starscream is looking up at ya,” Crosshairs said.

“Up?” Izabella questioned.

“Don’t worry about it too much sweetheart you’ll hurt yourself,” Crosshairs replied with a chuckle.

“Don’t listen to him,” you rolled your optics. “He’s a pain in the aft.”

“Aww, come on, without me who’d you stick with?”

“Bumblebee for starters.” You motioned towards your dancing partner.

Crosshairs rolled his optics and laughed, “The yellow bugger ain’t nothing special.

You gave him a questionable look before, “He helped me survive. That’s special enough for me.”

Bumblebee beeped at you walking up to you. He played a romantic you couldn’t understand but it made you smile at him.

Izabella smiled in awe. “How’d you guys end up together?”

Bumblebee played a string of audios through the radio, “Many times, she understood when Cybertron almost engulfed Earth.”

You nodded while placing Starscream's head on the ground. “In my defense, I didn’t understand the first couple of times he was trying to tell me.”

“Because of his voice box?” Izabella questioned.

“No, I didn’t understand the context of his confessions.”

Bumblebee whirled away from you in disbelief. He held his servo over his chest while shaking his helm. You chuckled, “I apologize Bee, but it was difficult.”

Izabella started to laugh loudly watching Bumblebee trying to explain his actions to you. Cade came from around the back and chuckled, “Bee after all that, you got love buddy that’s all that matters. You can be happy knowing nobody’s ever gonna call Crosshairs special the way Y/N just did for you.”

“Aye!”

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archie-sunshine · 4 months

Text

Survey Says-! (18+ Rodimus/EVERYONE)

Chapter 1: Violations, Schmiolations!

Rodimus is NOT bitter about the results of the crew satisfaction survey, in fact, he’s fully prepared to change! He’s determined to change his crew’s minds, and what better way to do so than to get to know them- in the carnal sense that is.

There are no problems with this plan in Rodimus’s mind. There are many in Ultra Magnus’s. Magnus engages in some unfortunate(for Rodimus) damage control as head of Cybertronian Resources. Rodimus is not easily deterred.

Read on AO3 here! Chapter 1.5(NON CANON!) here! Chapter 2 here! Chapter 3 here! Chapter 4 here! Chapter 5 here! Chapter 6 here!

____________________________

FIC TAGS: Rodimus/Everyone(But y’know, not like. EVERYONE. Just a lot of various background characters and also more specifically with some others), Takes place post dark cybertron, but pre the whole ship disappearing thing and the mutiny, smut, Chastity, denial, Rodimus is a slut, Ongoing humiliation, HR Violations as comedy, Ultra Magnus is clueless, sticky sexual interfacing, comedy, sexual comedy, dubious consent (if you squint and tilt your head), contains illustrations

____________________________

Authors notes: This is the fic concept i was talking about in THIS tumblr post, if you're curious to see more of my thought process. This is all very deliberately silly, so try not to take things too seriously, nobody's getting hurt here, this is all for giggles

CHAPTER TAGS: Rodimus/Dipstick, briefly mentioned Rodimus/Hound, Trailcutter, Sprocket, and Pointblank, Ultra Magnus is obtuse but not stupid, Chastity, humiliation, Rodimus being Rodimus

“Ohh, yeah, just like that-” Rodimus sighed out, letting his helm roll back as he ran his digits over his spike. Dipstick wasn’t exactly his finest lay, but he did just fine where it counted.

And anyway, it wasn’t about what Rodimus wanted, this was all part of a noble and courageous cause, of course.

Rodimus let out a shaky moan as Dipstick mouthed along his chassis. An arc of charge shivered up his spinal strut at the feeling of his spike, heavy and thick, inside his valve. He could feel the bot start to lose rhythm, so Rodimus wrapped his legs a bit tighter around his hips and let out a long, pleased moan in Dipstick’s audial. He smirked to himself as the mech bowed forwards with a loud grunt. He sped up the servo on his spike as he chased his own edge.

The hot splashes of transfluid against his inner walls certainly helped. Rodimus offlined his optics as he stroked himself into a perfectly acceptable overload, enjoying the feeling of Dipstick’s fans gusting hot air across his front.

He allowed himself a moment of afterglow, which was quickly interrupted by a ping in his processor. Rodimus scanned it quickly. Oh slag. The speedster wriggled his way out from under Dipstick, who sluggishly pulled back after noting the captain’s attempt to escape.

“Something wrong-?” He began.

“Oh no, nothin at all bud, no worries!” Rodimus said quickly. “I’ve just gotta jet, had so much fun I forgot the time.” He chuckled, swiping at his array with a rag before closing his panels. “Thanks for letting me get to know you better!”

Dipstick nodded slowly, a bit of flush in his cheeks. “Uh- yeah, captain, no worries…”

Rodimus gave him another winning smile, offering a characteristic thumbs up before trotting out of the door to his hab suite with a spring in his step.

He was such a genius.

His ego had taken quite a few dings in recent times, what with his series of captainly ‘whoopsies’, being demoted to ‘co-captain’, having to work with fragging MEGATRON, and of course… the whole list incident. But Rodimus wasn’t stuck in his ways, in fact, he was prepared to help every one of his crew see that he could change.

By letting them know that he was completely at their disposal.

Wink.

He knew after his conversation with Ratchet that he wasn’t going to let the whole thing get him down, not over a faked survey list anyway. There was no point in taking his frustration out if he wasn’t learning something from the situation, so it was only logical that he take the time to listen to each and every member of his crew. So what if he didn’t know who wanted him off the ship? That wouldn’t matter as long as he was thorough in setting up his meetings.

The fact that most of his one on ones so far had ended with an overload was a coincidence, and not at all planned. As humble as Rodimus was, he also knew how hard it was for most bots to resist a sleek frame like his.

He felt a bit of pride bloom in his chassis, and perhaps elsewhere, as he recalled some of the past 15 ‘meetings’.

Hound was definitely a highlight. Rodimus didn’t exactly have a type, but he did enjoy the bulkiness of his frame against his, and certainly enjoyed that thick spike hitting just the right spot…

And Trailcutter of course, much sweeter than he’d thought, a very kind lover, but got a bit weepy when Rodimus had told him he was doing well.

Sprocket had opted for a quick blowjob, as Rodimus had caught him at a bit of a bad time, but he certainly made his enjoyments clear, nearly getting them caught when someone had passed by the supply closet they had tucked themselves into.

Pointblank had taken Rodimus’s spike well, enjoying the roughness that he’d treated him to, but making a mess on Rodimus’s office floor when he finished.

Rodimus whistled jovially as he bounced around the corner and his second in command’s office came into sight. He wasn’t going to be too terribly late for his meeting with Ultra Magnus, either, which was likely a surprise to both of them. Rodimus grinned to himself. Everything was coming up Roddy!

“Captain.” Ultra Magnus said stiffly as Rodimus stepped into the room.

“Maaaagggss! To what do I owe the pleasure?” Rodimus plopped down in the seat on the opposite side of his desk, propping his pedes up on the edge of it, kicking Magnus’s nameplate out of place. Ultra Magnus’s optic flickered with irritation as he reached over the desk and knocked Rodimus’s legs off of it.

“I’d like to have a discussion regarding your current extracurricular escapades.” He said, picking up his datapad with one servo while his other adjusted his nameplate back to equilibrium.

Rodimus’s faceplate blanched. “Aaahh, what do you mean?” asked the captain innocently.

“You’ve been interfacing startlingly regularly with several of your subordinates.” Magnus retorted flatly. “Which qualifies as a breach of several ordinances and rules surrounding proper captainly conduct.” He turned his optics from the datapad to lock with Rodimus’. “Which you should be well aware of… as you have surely read through the important manuals and documents I sent you before we began this journey.”

“Pff- Yeah! Of course! You recite the first bit of that code, I'll be able to finish it for sure!” Rodimus lied, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Primus, he should have cleaned his valve out more, he could feel Dipstick’s transfluid rolling around in there. It’d get absorbed by the nanites in there soon enough, but for now, it was an uncomfortable reminder while he wriggled under Ultra Magnus’s glare.

“Section 45, subheading 8- On the subject of intimate relations amongst superior officers and subordinates.” Ultra Magnus prompted.

Rodimus shifted again, sitting up straighter and squeezing his legs together. “Uhh, gimme just a skosh more?”

The larger bot let out a disappointed sigh. “Should a superior officer find himself entangled romantically or sexually with a subordinate crew member, the relationship must be made clear to a ship’s Cybertronian Resources officer, and cleared before a council of the captains and subordinate’s peers to assure there is no power imbalance present. Failure to comply is grounds for demotion on the part of the captain, Rodimus.” Ultra Magnus said gravely.

“Oh- Well I don’t know what gave you the idea I was doing such a thing, but I’m not, so we don’t have to worry about it-” Rodimus began, adjusting himself again in his chair in preparation to leave.

“Rodimus, I’m not stupid, I have it on good authority that you are engaging with our crew inappropriately.” Ultra Magnus drawled, clearly growing frustrated with repeating himself.

“Wha- Who told!” Rodimus blurted out, quickly resetting his vocalizer. “W-who lied I mean, we should be sure to meet with whoever is spreading rumours like this-”

“Rodimus I’ve heard you interfacing in two supply closets, seen the transfluid you failed to wipe off your office floor, and watched you walk down the hall to your hab unit leaving a convenient trail of fluids directly from Powerflash’s suite.” -

Rodimus’s intake snapped shut, face flaring a bit with embarrassment. It wasn’t as if Rodimus had any shame about his habits- er, gracious and noble quest for forgiveness- it was just that Ultra Magnus was the last one he wanted to find out about them. “... Yeah…” He muttered defeatedly, slumping back down in his seat. “... So what, am I getting demoted? Is Megatron taking up his rightful place as the true captain? I hope he enjoys sitting in my seat.” Rodimus pouted petulantly.

Ultra Magnus disregarded his grumbling, reaching for a drawer in his desk. “On the contrary, I am going to give you another chance to reconsider your actions.” He stood, tucking something he had grabbed behind his back, and walking around the desk towards him. “Your actions, while unprofessional and incredibly juvenile, do betray a want to rectify some of your past mistakes, which…” Ultra Magnus’s frown softened a bit, begrudgingly allowing a modicum of admission into his tone. “Is a step in the right direction.”

Rodimus’s vents hitched, his optic ridges raising as he sized up his SIC. “Oh- Mags- was this your way of flirting with me?” Rodimus laughed. “Aw, maggy, you didn’t need to do all this, really, just invite me out for drinks some-” The captain’s flirting was cut off when Ultra Magnus reached a servo down to effortlessly knock Rodimus’s legs apart.

“I am not flirting, captain.” He said flatly, all softness melted out of his expression.

Rodimus stared up at him. He could feel his frame starting to heat with quickly tamped down arousal at the way the bigger bot loomed over him.

“I am going to keep you accountable, and in doing so,” Ultra Magnus brought the device he had picked out of his drawer around to his front, Rodimus had never seen something like it before. It was painted bright yellow with black caution stripes, all extendable bars and geometry like it was supposed to hook onto something. “I will make sure that your behaviour ceases this instant.”

“Oh Mags- whatever could you me-” Rodimus began to croon, cut off by sudden sensation as Ultra Magnus’s hands lifted up his hips off the chair. “H-Hey-! Listen Mags- I like em forward but this is a little-”

Rodimus was silenced as Ultra Magnus unceremoniously clamped the device tight around his panels, pressing his thumb hard into a top latch to fasten the locks in place with a low magnetic zap.

Rodimus looked down, dumbfounded, at his own panels, now securely fastened shut. “Did you… just put a car boot… on my panels?” He said, slowly turning his helm up to look at Ultra Magnus.

The bigger bot nodded proudly, folding his arms over his chassis. “I felt this was the only way to keep you from continuing to breach protocol.”

“WHAT THE FRAG IS WRONG WITH YOU!!” Rodimus howled, kicking Ultra Magnus’s leg and succeeding only in pushing his chair back a ways. He immediately began to claw at the boot on his panels and was horrified to find it well and truly stuck there.

“Under chapter 79, section 31-A of the crew relations act, the third subsection suggests possible fixes for inappropriate interfacing behaviour, such as-”

“AS MAGNETIZING MY ARRAY CLOSED??! You’re sick!!” Rodimus wailed, still ineffectually pushing at the bars and beams fastened to his junk. “This- THIS has to count as cruel and unusual punishment!!”

“It doesn’t. I’ve checked. And it isn’t permanent either, and yes I did consult Ratchet before proceeding to ensure there would be no adverse effects to your gynecological health.” Ultra Magnus went over his points, walking back around the desk and sitting back down. “I am giving you a decacycle of this punishment, we will check in at the halfway point, and you will have a chance to plead your innocence at that time-”

“A DECACYCLE!!??” Rodimus cried, popping up on his pedes and slamming his servos on the desk. “You- You can’t be serious!! This is humiliating, everyone is going to see-”

“See that you are taking steps towards being less of a sexual pest and more of a professional and honest leader?” Ultra Magnus raised a brow ridge. Rodimus searched in his optics for some sign that he really didn’t believe what he was saying.

“You can’t be that obtuse.” Rodimus growled. THERE! There! Ultra Magnus’s optics flicked away with an uncharacteristic glint.

“Consider any unpleasant feelings as motivation to reconsider your previous leadership choices, captain.” Ultra Magnus said blithely, going back to scanning his datapads. “You are free to go, sir.”

“I hate you.” Rodimus spat, indignantly swatting Magnus’s name plate off his desk before spinning on his heel and storming out of his office.

#valveplug #transformers #mtmte #transformers mtmte #maccadam #lost light #rodimus #/nsfw #my fic #my art #smut #transformers smut #rodimus/everyone

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wifetomegatron · 7 months

Text

fondest, blindest, weakest. megatron(idw) / reader. drabble (nsfw)

Megatron knows he's beyond saving. Irredeemable and unworthy of grace, as the hound follows the hare, never ceasing in its running, ever drawing nearer in the chase, with unhurrying and unperturbed pace — that was his fate. His sins will catch up to him, and even as the last grains of time bubble under the currents of nothingness, his evils will remain, a wound that will forever scar the galaxy. Not even sinking to his knees could wash away the blood on his servos. He knows this.

He knows.

And yet, the thought of loving you is a seductive, selfish idea that has taken root inside the garden of his spark — where the ground is barren and dry — a stubborn seed has housed itself within his chassis. And when stripped bare, Megatron is no longer a prisoner or a warmonger or a co-captain, only a mech. A mech who wants nothing more than to watch you under the half-light, asleep and curled by his side. Guilt was the flower of loving you, beautiful and tempting, with thorns that cut through reality to let him live in a dream-like state.

He wants to remember everything: when you arch yourself under him, hands gripping his shoulders as you tremble and gasp. Your smile and your laughter as it echoes down the room. Every time you trace your fingers down the side of his helm before kissing him, lips so painfully tender against his own — this was Primus' final act of mercy. Or maybe you were his punishment. A benevolent act of cruelty: loving you comes with the fear of losing. This was karma in its purest form.

Yet you were brave, braver than he expected. Defiant and adamant to prove him wrong and embrace him, even if you might burn.

He runs a servo down your thighs, memorizing the weight, searing the warmth of your skin in his memory. Winter meeting spring, the land dancing with the sea, the sun waiting for the moon: that was how you described the feeling of loving him. You pulled him closer, chest to his chassis, skin trembling against the hum of his spark.

Your body was slick with sweat, mouth babbling incoherent words amidst a string of moans. So Megatron bends down to kiss you, inhaling every little noise.

You tell him his mouth tasted like when the sky finally breaks to relieve the earth of the heat: cooling, soothing, the first rain in spring. He finds it hard to believe that he gave you sanctuary. Until you clench down, legs around his waist, hips bucking to take all of him. And finally, he understands.

Here in the dark, he was tired of repenting. All he could do was want, even if he didn't deserve it. How can he not? When you're pleading for him, hungry for him. He wants to give: to soothe away the ache and give you what you need.

Breathe, he reminds you, slowly rocking to your movements. And soon you were in tandem, lost in the shadows of your habsuite, arms roaming, hugging, holding. When you came, you shouted his name — almost in reverence, voice trembling with desire.

Megatron knows he's beyond saving, but maybe giving you the love you deserve was enough to keep him going. He asks if you want more, servos already entering, easing, stretching. With your hair fanned across the pillows and cheeks flushed red, you nodded weakly, beckoning him to come. And who is he to deny his purpose?

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in1-nutshell · 1 month

Note

Another thought just popped in how about old Predacon buddy meeting Gen 1 autobot's it would be quite amusing seeing them interact with the others and maybe ratchet finding out how much old Predacon buddies energon reserves are possibly?

Buddy is too old for these shenanigans. Especially the ones in G1, but on the plus side, more grandkids!

Hope you enjoy!

Bot Buddy the Old Predacon meeting the Autobots

SFW, Platonic, Cybertronain reader

G1/TFP

Buddy was going log this trip in their data pad when they got back home.

Definitely one of the more memorable trips hey had gone.

The portal dropped Buddy in a desert like area.

It seemed deserted from the looks of it.

Maybe they were in an alternative Nevada.

Buddy feels a tap on their pede and looks down.

A blonde human looks up at them.

“I was starting to wonder when the humans would show up.”--Buddy

“Huh?”--Carly

“Never mind. Hello there little one.”--Buddy

“Hi? Are you an Autobot?”--Carly

“Yes, do you know them?”

“Yeah! They’re my friends! Almost everyone knows about them.”--Carly

Buddy tilts their helm.

“What do you mean by almost everyone?”--Buddy

“Anyone who doesn’t see the news.”--Carly

“… Anyways, do you mind showing me to their base? I need a place to stay until I can get back to my dimension.”--Buddy

“Dimension?”--Carly

“You see my dear… what’s your name?”--Buddy

“Carly.”--Carly

“Carly? All right, well my name is Buddy—”--Buddy

“Buddy?”--Carly

Buddy vents a bit.

“I know it’s a strange name and all—”--Buddy

“Its not strange. It just took me by surprise and all, please continue.”--Carly

“Well, I got dropped in this universe thanks to a portal that usually comes back and sends me home in a couple of days.”--Buddy

“So, you need a place to stay in the meantime?”--Carly

“Exactly.”--Buddy

“Well then lets go!”--Carly

Carly begins walking but Buddy leans their helm down next to her.

“Please, allow me.”--Buddy

Carly’s eyes widen in excitement and climbs on.

Buddy slowly lifts their helm up.

“Just point the direction and I’ll follow.”--Buddy

Carly gives them a thumbs up.

“You got it! I can’t wait to tell Chip, Spike and Raoul what happened today!”--Carly

“…Spike?”--Buddy

“Yeah, he’s my boyfriend.”--Carly

“… So, to the right or left?”--Buddy

Carly had to calm everyone down when they saw the giant mechanical dragon that nearly dwarfed everyone in the base.

Buddy is just thankful that these bots were a bit bigger than in the other universe.

They were still small, but a good small.

“Hello there! My name is Optimus Prime. Who might you be?”--Optimus

“…I’m Buddy sir.”--Buddy

“Oh please, just Optimus or Optimus Prime.”--Optimus

Buddy stares at the Prime and wraps a wing around him.

“I will protect you and your group with my spark.”--Buddy

“Oh, that’s not necessary my friend.”--Optimus

“Nope I’m protecting you.”--Buddy

“Hey Prime, where—WOAH!”--Bumblebee

Buddy tuns to see a tiny Bumblebee and other human.

“WOW! Carly wasn’t kidding when she said that the dragon was huge!”--Bumblebee

Bumblebee sticks out his servo.

“I’m Bumblebee! This is Spike.”--Bumblebee

Buddy looks at the human take a step and fall after stepping on his untied shoe lace.

“Primus help Carly…”--Buddy

“What?”--Spike

“My name is Buddy.”--Buddy

Buddy is a bit appalled seeing how energon was created.

If they had anything like this in their universe it would change the war at home.

For better or worse Buddy still hasn’t figured that out.

Buddy is internally crying when they meet more bots.

This team had so many more numbers and Buddy only had enough room in their arms to carry a few.

It was a rather pleasant surprise to find the Dinobots.

Sure, there was a little skirmish between Buddy and Grimlock.

But they soon got past that.

Buddy is an honorary Dinobot now.

Buddy has Bumblebee, Cliffjumper, Mirage, Hound, Sideswipe, Red Alert, Smokescreen, Wheeljack, Ratchet, and Perceptor in their arms or back. Swoop was perched on their helm.

They are looking around.

“What’s up Buddy? You looking for something?”--Raoul

“Oh Raoul! I don’t have enough space to keep holding everyone!”--Buddy

“What?”—Raoul

Buddy nearly has a spark attack seeing Superion, Defensor and Omega Supreme.

They were so used to being the biggest bot in the room, they did not like being the smaller bot for a change.

The bots were nice and all, but Buddy opted to stay with the others.

Buddy often stayed by the smaller Prime’s side during their stay.

Optimus didn’t mind it at all.

Buddy did share some stories about the Prime in their universe.

Many of the bots like to hear Buddy’s dimension stories, even if they are a bit vague.

Soon it comes time for Buddy to leave.

Buddy tries their best to give out as many group hugs as they can.

“Thank you, my friends! Wish you all the best!”--Buddy

“You too Buddy! Farewell my friend.”--Optimus

Buddy steps into the portal.

In TFP…

Buddy walks into the base, suddenly feeling a bit empty.

Buddy shakes it off and continues their way to the main room.

The war would be over soon, they just knew it.

#transformers x reader #maccadam #bot buddy #tfp #tfp x reader #tfp x platonic reader #transformers g1 #g1 transformers x platonic reader #old predacon buddy

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sotwk · 1 year

Text

Dandelions (Boromir x she/her one-shot)

Moodboard gifted by the lovely @entishramblings

Summary: Boromir brings flowers to his lady love.

Word count: 2k

Content: G-rated Romantic fluff, pining, unnamed love interest, shy, love-sick Captain of Gondor, little brother supporting big brother

Warnings: None

To read on Ao3: Link

Dedication: For the 57% + 10% who answered this poll by @bored-artist and said they would love getting flowers:

Inspiration: This goes out especially to my friend @scyllas-revenge, whose anecdote about her childhood admirer immediately inspired me to write this. The flowers don't matter as much as the giver, and here is the flower-giving experience I think you should have.

Divider credit: @firefly-graphics

Dandelions

Third Age 3015

Minas Tirith, Gondor

“Bring her some flowers.”

Faramir’s advice seemed helpful and practical enough at the time he offered it. But it was also something he just muttered hastily to Boromir as he helped the Steward's elder son slip away from the Citadel before dawn could rouse the other residents of the White Tower. Lord Denethor was expected to remain preoccupied that entire day, conducting councils and tours for the visiting delegation from Dol Amroth. But Faramir had also assured his brother that he would cover for him should anyone come inquiring about the Captain's whereabouts.

Cloaked and hooded and bearing neither armor nor arms save for one dagger at his hip, Boromir rode his horse through the dark, winding streets of Minas Tirth and descended to the city’s bottom level. Flowers, flowers. The word tumbled around in his thoughts, but his mind could not fully conceive a plan to procure this particular item. Boromir had never visited a flower vendor in his life, although he knew stalls existed in the city markets. He could not even recall ever plucking wild-growing ones off the ground.

Or was it from trees? Shrubs? Where did beautiful flowers grow, and how could he hope to secretly obtain them if he did not know the answer?

He pondered on the matter so deeply that he barely noticed he had already reached the Great Gate, where he must face the night watch on duty before he could flee towards his day of freedom.

Dark eyes underneath a silver helm squinted up at Boromir’s face, showing recognition but registering no surprise. After a brief pause, nothing more than a cough left the sentry's lips. No names uttered, no interrogation, not even an order to lower his hood. The lead guard gave a signal to his fellow watchmen to open the great door and then stepped back, waving the Captain through the City Wall.

Concerns over being stopped had never even crossed Boromir’s mind; not once in their shared lifetime had Faramir ever failed to deliver on a promise.

And so out of the White City Boromir rode, driving his horse off the Gateway and galloping into the grassy fields of Pelennor. He headed north-east, traversing farmlands and cutting fresh trails through rough terrain just to forge the shortest possible route to his destination.

To her.

His heart thundered in competition with the pace of his horse’s hooves. Just conjuring her face in his mind, imagining how it would feel to stand within reaching distance of her, close enough to receive her smiles and be caressed by her sweet scent…

He shifted his weight forward and increased the pressure of his legs on his horse’s sides. The mare responded by surging forward with full vigor, as though charging into one of their many battles together, and Boromir made a silent promise to reward his faithful steed accordingly upon their arrival.

Bring her flowers. Faramir’s parting advice hounded him throughout the ride, refusing to be dismissed as an optional gesture. His brother meant well, but the suggestion did little to bolster and plenty to shake Boromir’s confidence. The Captain-General of Minas Tirith, Heir to the Stewardship of Gondor, commanded plenty of admirable skills, but wooing ladies had never been one of them. At least not in ways considered customary, if his ignorance on gifting protocols was of any indication. Courting traditions were something he never considered worth taking the time to learn, since there were no women who motivated him enough to care about such frivolities.

And then he met her, in whom he found every motivation to start caring. Every reason to even continue being. Boromir had come face to face with a battle he could not rely on his sword or strength to conquer. This confused and frustrated him in ways that should have made him angry. Instead, he could not think of another time in his life when he had ever been happier.

She was worth feeling like an idiot for.

Halfway through his journey, he stopped by a small stream to give his hardworking horse some water and a brief rest. As he paced up and down the loamy bank, ruminating upon reunion scenarios and conversation topics in his head, Boromir's gaze drifted across the running waters. It idly scanned the open fields that stretched out all the way to the nearest farmhouse, located at least a mile off. Suddenly, his anxiety-ridden brain registered the sight of bright yellow dots scattered about the freshly sprung carpet of pale wild grass, bobbing merrily upon their long stalks with the passing breezes.

Flowers! Boromir rushed forward eagerly, drawing his dagger to immediately start cutting up bunches and bunches of the yellow blooms, until he had enough to fill the clutch of his left hand. He produced a passably clean cloth from his saddle pack and used it to tie together the bundle of wildflowers, finally feeling relieved and mayhaps even a little proud of his victory.

The rest of his journey passed with greater ease in the knowledge he would not be arriving empty-handed. The sun had completed its ascent into the cloudless azure sky as he approached the small farming village known simply as Northmere. Once a place of such meager consequence that the Captain of Gondor did not even know of its existence, it had become the most precious location outside of the White City to him before he even had a chance to set foot in it.

A straw-roofed cottage with a fenced-in front garden and a blue-painted door. She had told him exactly how to find her house, and there were not many around to choose from. Walking alongside his horse, Boromir crossed what seemed to be the market square, just a handful of shops to provide the locals with basic essentials.

One store keeper, a burly older man with flour-dusted arms and apron, came out to his doorway to watch the stranger pass through. He caught Boromir's gaze over the distance and simply nodded his head, perhaps even cracking a smile behind his bushy gray beard. Boromir suspected some other curious eyes tracked him from surrounding windows, but no further interactions were attempted.

He found the blue painted door towards the end of a long, worn dirt road that bisected the cluster of houses comprising most of the village. Like reaching mythical treasure at the end of a quest, it filled him with triumphant excitement to approach it.

And nervousness. Valar, his hands never trembled this much clutching his sword as he faced down death on the battlefield. But there he stood at the pathwalk of the cheery cottage, unarmoured and weaponless, preparing to stand in the presence of his greatest weakness, the one who made him feel more vulnerable than any deadly foe from Mordor ever could.

He felt a sudden, firm shove on his back that made him stumble slightly. He chuckled and reached over to pat his horse's neck; he had stood there frozen for so long that his friend felt the need to check on him. "Yes, yes, yes…" he muttered, half to himself. "I am going!"

"Boromir?"

His heart soared at the voice that spoke his name, a sound fairer than any birdsong, and he turned sharply in its direction, pulsing with anticipation from head to toe.

The image of her face had scarcely left his thoughts since they parted exactly one week past. But his memory was a lying, grasping fool that had done no justice to the vision that now stood before him. She stepped out of her little front garden and walked the short path to him, her ear-to-ear smile and sparkling eyes flooding Boromir with mutual joy, even though she could not possibly be as happy to see him as he was to finally gaze upon her.

She had been tending her garden while waiting for his arrival; he noticed the potting soil that lingered on her slender hands and the smudges on the white apron over her skirt. Her cheeks bore the rosy flush of physical labor, and the long waves of her unpinned hair blew freely around her shoulders. She was so effortless in her natural grace, so wonderfully different from the prim and powdered ladies of Minas Tirith that his father regularly forced (or forced themselves) into his company.

It still astonished Boromir how such beauty could have escaped his notice for so long, and he had praised Eru ever since for opening his eyes to Ioreth's young apprentice from the Houses of Healing. For all the times he had teased Faramir for burying his nose in books instead of looking at the world around him, it turned out he had been the one cursed with certain blindness all along.

“You came,” she said softly, stopping tantalizingly short of his arm's reach. She stared up at him with open affection that warmed the Captain to his deepest fibers. "I had hoped for it, but I did not think you would be able to get away."

“I told you I would come, and nothing would have stopped me," Boromir said quickly, and perhaps too fervently.

"I… I have missed…" Her voice failed her on the last word as shyness overpowered her excitement over his arrival. She ducked her head, hiding her blush behind her curtain of hair, as she twisted up the fabric of her apron between her jittery hands.

"I just could not wait to see you again," Boromir said hoarsely. "I could not have borne a second longer without you."

"O-Oh. Y-You honor me, my lord." And the blushing maiden answered his abrupt confession with a polite curtsy.

Her sweetness and modesty crushed Boromir with a sense of unworthiness to even stand in her presence. He felt torn between a strange compulsion to fall to his knees, and an utterly improper desire to seize her and just hold her close against him.

How did he get by a whole seven days away from her? And the more agonizing thought: how would he force himself to part from her again after this?

"Are… are those for…what are those for?"

Boromir stared blankly at the bundle of yellow flowers he clutched in his right hand, an overlong pause passing before he remembered their purpose. “These are for you,” he confirmed, reaching out with the offering. “I… I thought you would like them.”

In accepting the flowers, she stepped closer to decrease the distance that separated them, and her fingers grazed against his in the transfer. Boromir’s hand twitched as impulse rebelled against manners, and he very nearly made a greedy grab for her hand.

“They’re beautiful,” she said, gracing him with a gentle smile that was real beauty beyond comparison. By Eru, Boromir thought in sudden despair. What was he thinking coming to her with such a pathetic gift, so far below what she deserved?! For a maiden as gloriously fair as the sun itself, he should have brought the finest treasures from the most expensive shops in Minas Tirith, if not the very jewels from the coffers of the Steward.

She held the posy up to her nose, sweeping the golden petals across her freckled cheeks and berry-pink lips, and Boromir felt overcome with a feverish desire to trade places with the flowers at that moment.

“It is nothing…” he mumbled weakly.

She shook her head, her face at once firm and determined. “It is everything,” she corrected, raising her gaze to meet his with renewed courage. “You are everything.”

And with two more steps to eliminate the gap, she pressed herself against the warmth of his chest, tucking her head neatly underneath his chin, their bodies already a perfect fit for each other’s embrace. Boromir enveloped her in his arms, promising with all his strength that he would find some way to be worthy of this, of her, even if he had to scour all of Middle-earth for the right flower to profess just how deeply he had fallen in love with her.

Perhaps his wise little brother could help him again.

Tagged by request: @aduialel @fizzyxcustard @laneynoir @auttumnsayshi @achromaticerebus @friendofthefellowshipsnerdblog @blueberryrock @scyllas-revenge @glassgulls @ladyweaslette @heilith @absentmindeduniverse @undeniableadrenaline

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#boromir fanfiction #boromir #lotr fanfiction #boromir x reader

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