The Way, ( )

the way, 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 ( 𝗦𝗡𝗘𝗔𝗞 𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗞 )

Spider, Spider, Spider.

His name echoed like a sacred mantra in her mind. A chant bestowed upon her by Eywa. The Great Mother had blessed her with the boy, and she understood that she must reciprocate. She would raise him to honor Eywa, providing him a life brimming with love and joy. She was willing to do whatever it took to protect the precious gift bestowed upon her sixteen years ago, even if it meant going against those she had grown up with.

Her loyalty to her people was unwavering, but her love for her son and devotion to Eywa surpassed all else. Unknowingly, her path was set even though he had not yet answered her question. She chose Eywa.

She chose Spider.

©️ ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, jeepersbxch 2024

Y’all I just remembered I have the old first person reader x Tonowari fic collecting dust on my Google docs, I’m not the best writer but I did say I wanted to also post some of my writing on here. Here’s just a snippet of it! Let me know if you Tonowari fuckers want me to post the full oneshot on here 🤭

I need him up my ass

Giving “Body jobs” to the Bayverse Bots

A/n: MINORS FUCK OFF. Also I want to apologize for how long this took to come out, I know it’s been forever and a day. BUT I AM BACK!!

Contains: Drift, Crosshairs, Lockdown

Warnings: NSFW under cut, sexual themes, size difference, human reader, female reader, foul language?, typos probably

Summary: a body job, is using your body to pleasure your boyfriend MASSIVE spike. Since uhhh size issues. These are their reactions to it.

Part one

Drift

The former decepticon let out a deep growl, his grip crushing the roof of the broken down car he held onto. Optics squeezed shut as you pleasured him, slowly grinding and rolling your hips into his shaft. When you said you planned a “punishment” for him since he yelled at you, he didn’t expect this. Constant grinding and teasing to his desperate spike, edging him closer and closer to his climax only to stop. Throwing his head back, optics opened as he gazed into the sky. A desperate groan escaped him, only to be met with your beautiful but evil giggles.

“You are cruel my flower.”

Drift said in a hoarse voice, finally looking down to you. Your legs shaking as you got yourself off on him, hair a mess, and your sweaty body warm against his cold metal. Beautiful, he loved seeing you like this. You only laughed again, tilting your head back to meet his gaze. E/C eyes locking into his blue ones, a proud smirk on your face. A shudder escaping the samurai, lips parting as he tilted his head. Never once did you doubt his love for you, not with the way he looked at you. No matter his anger issues or snapping at you, he always found some way to make it up to you. So you could remember he still loved and appreciated you. He apologized many times, reciting poetry he created for you but you were determined to get the point across this way.

“You brought this upon yourself.~”

You teased. Turning your attention back to his spike, you laid across it feet pressed against his lower platting. A shaky breath escaped Drift, watching as you as you slowly began to drag your body along his erected sex. Your ass jiggled perfectly as you pushed yourself up and down, sometimes stopping to give a sloppy, wet kiss to his tip. Earning cusses from your lover, desperately bucking his hips. As much as he wanted to overload, he now really wanted to returned the teasing to you… and he would, soon enough.

Crosshairs

Crosshairs was actually the one who suggested this and man was he grateful he did, watching your body jiggle and shake as you glide across his metal shaft. Cocky grunts escaped him as he shamelessly bucked his hips up, not really making the ride easier, which he knew. He would give up everything to watch you like this forever, an intoxicating sight. Eyes screwed shut as you desperately gasped for air, enjoying every second of this. Arms wrapped tightly around his spike, crouching down only to stand back up, body pressed firmly against him.

His warm spike twitched, some lubricants slowly trialing down his large length landing in your hair and on your arms, you were completely coated and this wasn’t even his overload. You pulled away for a moment, looking at the color liquid that covered you. A raspy chuckle escaping the paratrooper, as his blue optics trailing over you. Stopping linger on your ass before looking back to your messy hair, you would definitely need a shower after this.

“You look amazing like that, all covered in my lubricants.”

Crosshairs teased, his cockney accent growing thicker then normal. Scoffing softly, you turned to look over your shoulder at him. Playfulness in your eyes, as you slowly dragged your hand up to the under side of his tip. You knew he was extra sensitive there, so naturally that’s where you teased him. His body shuddered, inhaling quickly as his metal lips formed and ‘O’. Slowly stroking up and down, turning back to lick and kiss his shaft. Your free hand coming down between your legs, playing with your pussy the way he knew he touched you. Another desperate, strained sound escaped the green Autobot as you smirked to yourself.

“You going to behave now?”

Lockdown

A deep chuckle rumbled in your ears, warm metal digits gently clasped around your body, pulling you back to reality. Opening your eyes as you felt Lockdown’s hand guide your fleshy body up and down his twitching spike, as it radiated a warm pulse sensation beneath you. Pitiful gasps and whines escape you as a little drool spills past your lips into the tip of a metal cock, much to his amusement. You felt his thumb rub along your side before, rubbing your curvy ass.

“Having trouble focusing my little human?”

Lockdown mused with a wicked smirk, watching your already warm voice grow more red from his tease. You were the one who wanted this, shyly asking for access to his spike. Only for him to take control within a few seconds, then order you to try yourself and then take back over. You were completely cock-drunk, your own wetness leaking onto his shaft and being spread along thanks the movements of your body.

“Use that tongue of yours princess.”

The alien bounty hunter groaned out, his voice slightly deeper and more raspy. Lockdown’s head rolled back, green optics closing as he used your human body to get himself off. Obediently you stuck your tongue out, licking and twirling around his large tip. Only for you to be pulled away and dragging your the wet muscle down the hot, metal length. Strained growled echoed the walls of cockpit of the ship, his hand digging into the armrest of the chair.

As you gazed out the window of Lockdown’s ship, you swore you could see stars in the middle of the day, and you knew this was only the beginning.

Slipped Through

Summary: There is one tiny, silly little caveat to Joel’s insane, old man endurance.  Word Count: 2,182 Pairing: Joel Miller x F! AFAB! Reader Rating: 18+ Explicit Warnings: 18+ mdni, p in v sex, cowgirl, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, premature ejaculation, frottage, no use of y/n

If one thing is for certain in the post-apocalypse, it’s that Joel Miller fucks. 

You find this out a few months after he and Ellie settle in down the street from you. 

He’s handsome, built like a brick shithouse, all bulky muscle from years and years of hard-fought survival. He’s also shy. Everyone else in Jackson thinks he’s aloof, rude, scary. 

But not you. 

You see the same scars on his skin, the same clenched jaw and stony gazes as everyone else. But to you, he’s just a tired, scared, sad man in need of some TLC. 

He gets it, too. 

It took a while for him to warm up to you, your timid advances, your dropped hints. But as soon as he let you in, it was like a forest fire, one single spark caught by the wind and engulfing everything in flames. 

He fucks. 

He’s been around a few decades and it shows. His stamina is incredible. He can fuck you for hours without stopping, make you come on his cock over and over again until you’re begging for him to give in to his release. 

He takes you from behind, while you’re on your knees or while you’re his little spoon. He takes you while you stare up at him on your back, a hand between your bodies to put delicious pressure on your clit. 

Once he even took you up against the wall with your legs wrapped around his waist. Only once, though, because he had to call in sick for patrol, and Tommy wouldn’t let him rest until he told him what he’d done to pull his back so badly. 

He’s incredible. A selfless lover, so focused on making you feel good, his orgasm always second (or usually third or fourth) to yours. And he’s sweet, he calls you pet names and kisses you breathless and hands out praise like it’s expiring. He cleans you up after, and fetches you water, and holds you and strokes you until your shivers are gone and your breathing is back to normal. 

You have no complaints. But. There is one tiny, silly little caveat to Joel’s insane, old man endurance. 

He cannot keep it together when you ride him. With a gun to his head, you’re pretty sure he still couldn’t last long enough to get a solid session in with you on top. 

It’s not a bad thing, per se, but you like riding him. You enjoy taking a bit of control, letting him relax and ease his back after a long day. But he just… can’t last.

-

Joel’s cock is in your mouth. You love this part. You love breathing in the mixed scent of homemade soap and Joel’s natural smell as you nuzzle the wiry hairs. You love looking up at him and seeing his aroused grin and dark eyes staring back down at you. You love the way he feels so hot and thick against your tongue. You love getting him sopping wet so it’s even easier to take his girth when he fucks you. You love the feeling of his huge hand on the back of your head, tangling in your hair.

“God damn, baby, you suck dick like an angel.” 

You love that too— the praise, the wicked shit he says that completely negates how shy and timid he is outside of the bedroom. 

You hum around his cock and take him deeper. You’re never able to take him all the way, but when he nudges the back of your throat, you make swallowing motions and feel yourself contract around the thick head of his dick. His hand tightens in your hair, almost painful but not quite. 

“Jesus, your mouth, darlin’. Criminal.”

You hum again, and arch your back like a dog in heat, aching to feel him stretch you open. 

“C’mon, give me your pussy, baby.” 

His words are grunted, and maybe it’s a little mean of you to suck the life out of him before you plan to ride him. You think you like it, though, just being a little mean. 

He makes to move when you finally pull your lips from around him, but you hold him steady with two hands on his broad, sweaty chest. 

His pretty brown eyes widen in question, and his hands grab your hips hard as you hover over his cock, but he doesn’t say anything. 

He wants to. You can tell. His jaw clenches and his eyes fog over a bit as he looks down at your soaked center. But he stays silent as you line yourself up, stroke him through your folds a few times before letting his cockhead catch on your hole and sink in. 

The deep groan he lets out sounds pained. You coo at him, remove one of your hands from his chest to run through his silver curls. 

“Fuck.”

It’s gritted through his teeth, clenched together so tight you’re afraid they’ll crack. When you’re fully seated, you wiggle your ass and clench around him. 

“Baby,” he whimpers.

“Thought you wanted my pussy? Don’t you like it, Joel?” 

You lift up until he nearly falls out of you, and then fall right back down. A sound escapes your mouth, deep from your chest as you rise and fall again, throwing your head back at just how deep he reaches at this angle. 

His fingers grip your hips even tighter now, bruising and stinging. His breath whistles violently through his nostrils, stuttered and heavy. 

“Like it too much, darlin’, please.”

You spare him for a second, grinding down in his lap, swiveling your hips to help him simmer down. You rake your nails across his scalp in what you hope is a soothing gesture, but you can’t help the way you clench around him as you watch him struggle underneath you. 

Seconds pass as your hips grind out the smallest circles against him. His breaths are loud and warm against your nose and cheeks. He looks incredible like this, at your mercy, your devilish grin reflecting in his inky, wide pupils. 

His grip loosens the tiniest bit, and you watch his jaw clench and unclench as he squeezes his eyes shut. 

“You can take it, can’t you? For me?” 

You pout and rock your hips slowly, all the way up and back down, reveling in the familiar stretch and friction that’s torturous and not quite enough. You feel his chest expand with a shuttery gasp right under your palm, broken and ragged, and it makes you just that much wetter. 

“Sweet christ, the mouth on you tonight.”

His tongue pokes out to wet his red, bitten lips. When his eyes open back up, they’re all pupil, black and glossy and shining. Your cunt flutters around him at the sight of him so far gone, undone because of you. 

You squeeze your fingers in his hair, tugging, and he winces and you love it, this proud and powerful sensation coursing through your veins. You understand, now, how Joel feels when he fucks you, when you’re completely at the mercy of the pleasure he gives you. Why his lips always seem to lilt into a smirk, why that satiated smile doesn’t leave his face for hours, and why his gaze still feels so hungry no matter how many times you’ve gotten each other off. 

It’s addictive. 

His face untwists itself as you lighten the grip on his hair, but it screws right back up as you start to bounce on his cock. He curses, and you set a quick pace at the angle that makes you clench around his prick. 

“I can’t– Darlin’, I can’t.” 

His voice sounds panicked, so you lift up, let him slip completely out of you. You peer down to watch his glistening cock jerk wildly as his hips cant up into nothing. The muscles in his thighs tense something fierce, and you’re sure his nails have broke skin on your hips. 

“You can, baby. Just let me take care of you for once. Just enjoy it,” you say. 

His breath shutters in something akin to a sob, a warm gust across your heated cheeks. You let your hand trail up to his neck and goad him to break his staring contest with his jerking, weeping cock.

“You’re evil,” he tells you. 

You smirk. Your nails scrape over his stomach, the patch of curly hair there and the skin that pulls taut as his muscles strain against your touch.

“I think you like that.” 

Your hips tilt to align yourselves once more, and this time you sink down slowly until you’re seated on his thighs. For a moment, he gets a wicked glint in his eyes, dangerous looking. It vanishes as soon as you clench your walls around him. 

“You feel so good,” you whisper.

You catch his lips in your own. Distracted, he can’t kiss you back. The tight line of his mouth is frozen as you nibble on his plush bottom lip and rock your hips up and down. His noises are muffled this way, cut-off, like he wants to keep them from escaping. The softest whines, and the most beautiful music to your ears. 

You set a rhythm to match, and for a moment you think he’s managed to gain control. His palms are warm and sweaty on your hips, and then your ass, and you’re confident as you rise and fall. You’re working yourself up, too, as his prick supplies a delicious friction to the perfect spot inside you. Like it always does.  

But as you gasp and moan with your head thrown back, the calloused palms on your skin turn into sharp nails, and Joel’s sounds falter. 

“Off— get off,” he gasps. 

You do, rising up quickly, looking down between your bodies to watch Joel’s cock strain and throb in the cool bedroom air. You wait patiently for him to calm down as a second passes, then two, then—

“God dammit—”

Your eyes widen as you watch— in shock and horror and amazement and arousal— thick, white stripes shoot up to paint Joel’s chest and stomach. His abdomen pulls taut and his hips quiver with each wave of his climax.

“Shit—”

You’re frozen in time as Joel shakes with the intensity of it. And he just keeps coming, spurt after spurt making his dick jolt and twitch, until the last of it dribbles out of him and his poor cock gives one last gasping breath. 

“Fuck you,” he pants, squeezing your hips, but there’s no heat behind it. There’s nothing at all behind it as he slumps into the mattress, boneless and defeated. 

It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. Which may not be saying much, since your pre-apocalyptic life was fairly short-lived, but it’s the truth. 

This man, sturdy and hardened and full of grit, reduced to a mess of a puddle underneath you. You’re throbbing, all because of him, because of what you’ve done to him. 

“So fucking hot, fuck,” you breathe.

You give him no chance at all to recover, so overcome by your own needs. You shift your hips and trap his prick between your folds and his stomach. 

It’s slippery and perfect, and even the feeling of Joel’s cock growing softer as it presses against your clit turns you on. 

Almost as much as his noises, the nearly pained whimpers as you grind against his overstimulated dick, the way he shudders and squirms underneath you. Still, he encourages your thrusts with two sweaty and firm hands on your hips, and the way his fucked-out gaze is focused on you taking your pleasure from him. 

Riding the adrenaline high, it takes virtually no time at all for you to reach your peak. Your nails dig into the skin of his pecs and the back of his neck respectively, as you near the inevitable. Your nose finds where his shoulder and throat meet, biting, hiding your whimpers in his sweaty skin. The hiss he lets out and the accompanying jolt of his hips is more than enough to send you over the edge. 

Atta girl, that’s it, get what you need.

His voice sounds far away, gritted through his teeth, as you pant against him and ride out the last of your orgasm. 

The following silence is quite loud, just heavy breathing and the odd creak of the bed frame. 

Joel must feel when your lips fail to suppress a smile against his shoulder, because he responds with a huff almost instantly. 

“Real pleased with yourself, huh?” 

You giggle, nip at his heated skin with playful teeth. 

“I really am.”

He grunts, and you finally lift up to look him in the eyes. He creases his brow and shakes his head at you. But then that dimple you love so much rears its head as he bites back his smirk, and another giggle bubbles up out of your chest. 

“Sorry ‘bout that, Darlin’.”

He sounds quite remorseful, looking up at you with those puppy eyes, and you cradle his stubbly cheek in your palm. 

“Just gotta train you up, cowboy.”

the titan’s victory, 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐍

summary. Megatron finally succumbs to your relentless teasing, but you’ve bit off far more than you can chew.

warnings. earthspark megatron, human female reader, mass displacement, reader is kind of a whiny brat (on purpose), a bit of a voice kink (maybe? but that might just be in my head), outdoors sex, intercourse, manhandling, cussing (cybertronian and english lol)

authors note. old man megs is the air that i breathe. maybe a part two???

He’s done it all: from cutting conversations short, to giving you the cold shoulder, and even outright distancing himself whenever you’re close by, but you just don’t give up. He never imagined that something so small could seize his senses and spin his circuits into a whirlwind, yet your constant teasing and unabashed gazes had finally pushed him to the brink.

At a safe distance from Ghosts headquarters (a precaution he took seriously), he had you completely undone. With his mass displacement revealed, he had you perched on his lap, entirely exposed to his gaze and touch, relishing the raw mews and pleas that escaped your lips as he indulged you.

With a steady grip on your hips to hold you in place, he buried his face in the curve of your neck, inhaling deeply to ensure your scent lingered with him for days to come.

“Meg’s, please—” you attempt to plead once more, but his mouth is swift to respond, his lips and tongue pressing against your skin with fervor, transforming your words into nothing more than soft, breathy moans.

"You've had your fun, lass," he grunted, his other hand cradling the back of your head as he placed a few more kisses along your neck. "Now it’s time for me to have mine."

As he drew back from your neck, his attention shifted to your chest. Your soft breasts rose and fell with each breath, your nipples hardened from both desire and the gentle night breeze that caressed your skin. With both hands, he eagerly cradled each mound, his mouth hungrily searching for one of your nipples to draw into his warm mouth.

“Megatron!” you cried out, writhing as his hands explored your chest. But when a low growl rumbled from his throat and he delivered a stiff bite to your nipple, you instantly froze in place.

Glancing down, you catch the warning in his glare, and even though a retort is poised on the tip of your tongue, you suppress it by biting your lip, hoping the look of desperation reflected in your gaze is enough to appease him.

To your dismay, he presses on, seemingly unfazed, as if he had anticipated your compliance all along. While you take his warning seriously, you can’t help but give his hips a playful nudge with yours as a subtle way to push back and have the final word. He chuckles at your defiance but doesn’t relent, moving from one breast to the other to ensure each receives equal attention.

You feel a surge of annoyance, but another bite and the gentle roll of your nipple between his teeth sends your eyes rolling back in pleasure. Your hands instinctively reach out to grip his shoulders, pulling him closer as desire takes over once again.

A certain amount of time has slipped away unnoticed, and after ensuring that each breast is swollen and flushed from his attentions, he finally stops to rest his hands on your hips, holding you close.

A wave of anticipation washes over you, and just when you expect him to finally make that move you’ve been yearning for, he redirects his attention back to your neck, eliciting a frustrated whine from you.

"You're just being mean now, Meg's," you huff, and this time, your words succeed in making the mech actually laugh.

“Oh, believe me, lass,” he begins, his voice laced with a hint of malice that sends a shiver through you, making your thighs tremble. “You don’t want to see what I’m like when I’m mean. Now, lift those hips of yours and quit your whinin’ before you change my mind.”

You don’t need to be told twice; and within seconds, your body is pressed against his once more, and this time, you can finally feel all of him.

You steal a quick glance down at his spike nestled between your stomachs, hard and rigid.

“Oh, yes,” You whisper before he lifts your hips himself this time, “Yes!” You hiss again under your breath as you feel his tip align with your entrance.

“Brace yourself, little one,” he commands softly in your ear as he begins to guide himself inside you. However, just as the tip barely breaches your entrance, you tense up as you loose your breathe, stopping him from entering you any further as you squeeze his tip so tightly, he nearly fumbles his hold on you.

“Breathe, human,” he growls, his grip on your hips firm as his digits press into your skin. His body tenses in response to the way your opening clings to his tip, the intensity of the moment palpable between you.

He holds his position until your breathing finally steadies, but the way your body instinctively shifts, pleading for him to move, pushes him over the edge.

“Fragging femme,” he snaps, his voice low and intense. “I’m already fighting the urge to tear you apart. Now do as I say and breathe!”

You take a deep, rigid breath, struggling to follow his instruction, but you try to rest your forehead against his shoulder, closing your eyes to concentrate on your breathing.

Oh god, oh god. This is just the tip, how is he gonna the rest of himself inside?

You expect no response to your silent worries, but a minute goes by and suddenly you’re taken aback when you feel cool lips gently brush against your forehead.

“Doin’ so good for me, lass. I just need you to breathe for me. Can you do that?” His complete three-sixty catches you off guard for half a second before you’re melting into him and nodding your head against his shoulder.

Breathe in. Breath out.

You continue this rhythm until your breath begins to steady, and just as your body feels like it might relax completely, you sense his hands reassert their hold on your hips, and he resumes his movements.

"That's right, such a good little thing for me," Megatron hisses, feeling you gradually envelop him until he is fully inside you, your body fitting perfectly against him.

A brief pause envelops you both, filled with a sense of relief and satisfaction as you exhale softly together… until Meg’s ruins it.

“Look at that, who knew a spike stuffed in her tight cunt, was all she needed to behave.”

Motherfucker.

You squeeze. You clench as hard as you can for as long as you can, savoring the sensation of Megatron being the one now gasping for breath.

After gripping tightly until your muscles ache, you finally relax, a sense of pride and achievement washing over you. Until that moment of satisfaction is abruptly interrupted by a sudden sharp slap against your backside, causing you to gasp in surprise.

“You’re gonna regret that, lass.”

jeepersbxch 2024 ©️ Rights Reserved.

Attitude adjustment

Summary: Tim is sick of your attitude.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+. Praise, eventual smut (not in this part) teasing.

Note: ah I love Tim bradford okay that's all. Likes comments and reblogs much appreciated , please be kind this is my first fic for weeks.

There will be a part 2 coming soon! 👀

It's ridiculous, you long graduated from being a rookie and Tim still treats you like he did your first year on the job.

Only difference is now, you give as good as you get.

And Tim? He's sick of it

Every time you open that pretty mouth of yours and respond with that teasing tone, that small smile that knows he can't get rid of you now, his cock strains in his pants. The way you stick your tongue between your teeth after you've talked back to him makes him think so many sinful things he struggles to reign in his composure. His knuckles turn white around the steering wheel, because of course he's not letting you drive.

He corners you in the locker room, both hands on either side of you, trapping you.

"You, are driving me nuts" he sneers, taking a deep breath.

Your heart thumps in your chest.

"You have a bad attitude, boot"

"Im not your boot anymore"

"Yeah? You should be, thought I did a pretty good job of snuffing out that little bit of defiance, I guess not" he runs his thumb across your lip as he speaks.

His eyes bore into you, watching, waiting, he doesn't miss the way your eyes go wide with lust at his actions.

"You like them fiesty, officer bradford" you sneer out the last part, or try to, but you are far too turned on for it to sound mean at all.

Tim leans in, places his forehead on yours.

"I am going to fuck that attitude out of you" he whispers.

Arousal pools between your legs at his words.

"That's what you need? Isn't it?" His hand grips your jaw.

You nod.

"No, I need words" he states softly, his finger tracing your jawline as he waits for your consent.

"Yes" you say firmly

"I want this- I need this, need you" you continue.

Tim smiles, moving his hand to the back of your neck.

"God, I was hoping you'd say that" he tightens his grip on your neck before crashing his lips into yours.