Chapter 3

I know this isn’t Transformers related but this is some of my other art and I wanted to see what yall thought 👀

Alright here is readers mech as a Patlabor Ingram! Idea courtesy of my reader on AO3 DiscoInHell. Enjoy!

Telling on a bully to your fav character be like

please, please can we have some more of The Emptiness Machine 😭

✨❤️ANYTHING FOR YOU SWEET ANNON. YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND ❤️✨ part 1 is up! It’s a Starscream X human mech pilot reader fanfic so go check it out!

Chapter 1

Emptiness Machine

Starscream X Mech Pilot Reader

Author note: here’s chapter 7! Sorry it took me a bit and today’s chapter is a bit longer to make up for it. Been going through some stuff. No warnings for this chapter!

Chapter 7

Coming online by degrees, you take in a shaky vent. Your optics flicker and warning messages blare, taking up all the space on your HUD. Internal damage, low energy, unable to disconnect, major mesh damage. You wince as you try to sit up and see where you are. A servo coming up reflexively to hold your chest plates together. Your digits find a fresh weld there as well as an Energon patch, someone had done minor repairs on your frame. You slowly move your optics over your plating. There were a few more fresh welds. Your optics flick over to find a faint purple glow, and sitting there against the wall you were leaned on, was a cube of Energon.

After looking around some more, you see that you had been taken to some sort of cell. An energy wall separated you from a larger circular room with more cells around the outside. In the center was a terminal and an empty, bot sized chair. Groaning, you try to get to your feet. If they thought you’d trust the Energon cube they left for you after all of what just happened, they were sorely mistaken. You pointedly ignore the persistent ping of the low fuel level warning as it invaded your vision. In your cell there was only a bench. Cybertronians didn’t need water for anything and it seems prisoners weren’t kept alive for very long here. You manage to drag yourself over to the bench and lean back. The patch on your chest still has some Energon infusion left but you need to take stock of the damage done to your actual body.

It takes you a moment to remove the patch but when you do, it’s easy to see the damage. There were long tears in the mesh beneath and the plating had been welded back in place properly. Luckily enough, they had the sense not to weld the seams of the cockpit closed. This gave you access to the gel capsule where your body rested. Engaging the springs manually since the connection was severed when Shockwave had torn into your chassis, you gingerly lift the plating away. It looks about as bad as you had expected. Your body had dried blood on its forehead, there was some bruising. But overall the damage wasn’t that severe. The scuffle with Megatron hadn’t affected the connection. You let out a relieved vent.

Just then, a door slid open with a mechanical swish and in walked the boxy blue bot who had carried you. Soundwave, Megatron had called him. When his visor dropped to your slumped form, you quickly close the plating around your body and glare defensively. He was carrying another Energon cube in one of his servos. The other servo raised in what was supposed to be a gesture of reassurance. He spoke in a quiet tonal voice.

“Little one. You must refuel.”

You glare at him. Little one? This was absolutely not the picture Optimus had painted of the Decepticons. Not getting up or making a move to retrieve the Energon cube he’s already placed inside the cell for you, your optics never leave him. He moves closer, activating a button on the panel outside that opens a small window in the energy field so he can place the second cube inside. He steps back but continues to watch you, his expression unreadable. You try to speak but your speech synthesizer crackles and glitches. The damage Megatron did wasn’t severe but it had wrecked your ability to speak clearly for now. Still you grate out the words through gritted denta.

“Gg-go fr-ag yourssss- tryiing-to poissss-on m-me“

The incomplete sentence hanging in the air a moment before the mech turns away as if to walk out. Before he reaches the door he turns and points to the cubes, speaking one last time over his shoulder.

“Fuel: acceptable. Not contaminated. Refuel.”

With that he leaves, the door sliding shut behind him. You extend your hand in a rude human gesture that would mean nothing to him, but it made you feel better anyway. You can’t help but feel the empty tank of your mech scraping the last bits of Energon from its walls. A little couldn’t hurt could it? Dr. Antonov and the Cybertronian scientists he worked with had made your mech as close to an actual Cybertronian as possible. The biology almost indistinguishable from the alien species except for the cockpit in its chest. This included the nanites that were found within the lines of a mech. The self repair system. He wasn’t sure of the effects nanites would have on the human body at first, but after he discovered the tiny organisms wanted nothing to do with organic matter, he implemented their use in all of his creations.

Taking the cube in your servo you lift it to your olfactory sensors, detecting no poison. You tentatively slide your glossa out to taste the Energon. It tasted just as staticky as it normally does. Hungrily you gulp down the first cube. Systems start to come back online and your vision clears slowly after a few hours. Forcing yourself to save the second cube until you need it again, you lie down on your side with your back to the wall. Your wing panels tuck against your frame and you wait for someone else to return. They had kept you alive for some reason. Perhaps for information or study. At least they knew to keep you out of Shockwave’s lab. Shivering when you think what he might have done with you if the other two hadn’t intervened.

You think back on the times that Optimus Prime had discussed the Decepticons with the members of Project Archangel. There were five back then. Five working mecha and five pilots. He had called a meeting to inform all of you of the danger you were getting ourselves into. He told you everything. The 11 worlds already practically glassed by the Decepticons. How earth was the second to last world and they could have plans to terraform it into a new Cybertron. It seems their homeworld was now uninhabitable due to the chemical weapons utilized by the Decepticons. Optimus blames Megatron for the destruction of their world.

“It didn’t need to be this way. But Megatron had decided the only path to peace on Cybertron was to eliminate an entire generation of our people. He wanted no one left. Only those who were down with him in the pit. Only those who knew the same hardship he did.”

He went on to describe the war on Cybertron before they left. How entire cities were bombed to ash. Burning metal and ozone all that was left of beautiful architecture and culture. All the wealthy citizens didn’t last long under his reign. He took control of most of the planet and its resources before Orion Pax decided to lead a rebellion against his tyranny. The death told had climbed to heights he couldn’t have possibly imagined. Primus himself intervened and deemed the young mech worthy, awarding him with the matrix of leadership. A powerful weapon only wielded by someone who would use it for the right reasons. From then on, Orion became known as Optimus Prime. That is the short version. He talked for hours. You remember nearly falling asleep by the time he finished.

Though the thing that stuck with you the most was the fact that he and his followers had killed indiscriminately. Their rule, though short, was tyrannical. Just the kind of thing they were fighting against. You shook your helmet at the thought. Such blind rage was something you knew well though. There were wars on earth before the Cybertronians came. One of those wars left you without most of your family. Leading you to project archangel and Dr. Antonov.

Your thoughts were once again interrupted by the metallic swoosh of the door opening up and ped steps announced the arrival of a bot. You don’t lift your helm right away. Instead you leave your optics offline and listen. The bot uses a data pad to loudly bang on the outside of your cell making you startle. Your optics find a familiar smug looking face and a crooked smile. Starscream. He speaks, his voice a deep rumble in the circular room.

“I have some questions for you. Care to share some information with me? Seraphim?”

Emptiness Machine

Starscream X Reader (Mech Pilot AU)

Author note: Hey everyone just for this chapter I wanna explain that in this universe scanning a spark signature can reveal a designation. If you have any other questions send me an ask. Enjoy!

Chapter 8:

Your optics come online and you sit straight up at the sound of your designation. How did he get ahold of this information? The Autobots had been so careful not to let any information slip about the secret project Dr. Antonov had been working on. Humans weren’t even involved in the conflict until a cycle ago when they were called upon to deal with an actual Decepticon on the surface. You narrow your optics at him as he smiles at you in a sadistic way. Chuckling he turns and addresses the drones stationed outside the door.

“Restrain the prisoner I wish to speak to them unobstructed by this.”

He waves a servo at the humming energy wall that separates you. At that you sit up ready to fight, but your servo immediately goes to your forehelm as dizziness overcomes you. you had taken the Energon, so why were you still struggling? Sifting through the error messages you can’t make sense of the situation. You hadn’t been poisoned or drugged so what was the issue? One message though sends alarm jangling through you. ‘Unable to disconnect. Disconnection unavailable.’ What on earth could that mean? You hadn’t even noticed the approaching drones or heard the energy field disengage. They wrenched your servo from your helm and had you in cuffs before you could react. Something was off with your connection and you didn’t like it.

Looking back up at Starscream where he was stepping inside your cell, he looms over you. Wings flared out and bent over slightly to keep his helm from bumping against the ceiling. Clearly this cell was made for much smaller bots. You sit on the bench restrained at the wrists but nothing more. They were underestimating you again. That or they knew more about your current status than they were letting on. You vent and meet his optics. There was no choice but to talk to him. You let your helm lean back against the wall behind you but don’t break contact with his optics.

“Alright. I’ll speak with you. I cannot promise answers to everything and for that you might have to take me offline. But I will let you speak.”

He seems surprised for a moment, looking awkward in the cramped space. He shifts on his peds and produces the data pad and speaks once more.

“So it can speak in something other than obscenities. Very well. We were able to obtain very little information about you from our sweep of the digital network here.”

He pauses and his optics flick to your chassis and back up to your faceplate. So he was curious. He was speaking to you like an intelligent being and that was a start at least. Though the tone of his voice suggested he thought of himself as the higher life form here.

“Shockwave was the only mech Megatron wanted interacting with the native life. Unwise in my opinion.”

You raise an optic ridge at him. Why was he telling you all of this? Wasn’t he afraid you were going to use it against them? Of course he didn’t expect you to make it out of here still online. That was most likely the reason. You nod and respond.

“Whatever his reasoning for that is I’m sure it’s monstrous. Especially if it has to do with that mech.”

He looks at you and then back at the data pad.

“As second in command, it’s my job to be an advisor to Megatron in matters of great importance.”

He seems to preen before continuing.

“He however, believes I should have disposed of you. But how is it…that you look exactly like us. Down to our very biology. It’s…”

He doesn’t finish but instead he shakes his helm as if trying to get rid of a stray thought.

“Just what are you?”

His voice a dangerous growl that rumbles through his entire frame as he asks the question. So he thinks you are an abomination of some kind. You look him up and down.

“You are the alien here. You came to my world. So what exactly are you?”

Your tone accusing as you turn the question on him. Of course you knew Cybertronians well and why they were here. For a moment he looks affronted and his wings flick up, tapping the ceiling. You suppress a wave of amusement as he looks for a second like a bird whose feathers had fluffed out in indignation. He sputters for a before replying and regaining his composure.

“I suppose…but that’s beside the point. Here I am talking to what I thought was a very offline Cybertronian femme. Shockwave had torn out your spark. But here you are sitting in front of me as if none of that happened. And that-”

Emphasizing the word Cybertronian as he says it, he lays a digit on the seam that ran down your chest. The very same one that opened to reveal your true self.

“-that is in no way a Cybertronian spark. It’s something different altogether. An abomination.”

The scientist in him became morbidly fascinated with the new scans that had been taken of your form when Knockout and Hook had done the repairs on your frame. Where once a newspark had been detected, there was now a fully developed spark signature. It had a designation assigned to it and everything. An EM field, a scannable signature, it gave all appearance of a Cybertronian spark. But he wasn’t about to tell you that. Something had happened in the aftermath of that broken connection. Something that made his plating crawl in an unpleasant way. He continued to speak.

“Whatever those Autobots are doing is just as unethical as whatever morbid experiments Shockwave is conducting.”

He mumbled and that made you sit up straighter with a snarl as you reply to him.

“Never compare us to the likes of him! You are the bad guys here. You are the reason I was created in the first place. So that Earth had some defense against you. You are the reason Cybertron is ash and you had to come all the way here to find Energon!”

You had taken it too far. In a flash his servo was around your throat lifting you as Megatron had done. He was visibly shaking in anger. His red optics flashed and he bared his denta. Rage barely contained as his wings flicked fitfully behind him.

“You dare! You have no idea what happened on Cybertron! You insect! We tried to save Cybertron and your so called chosen leader doomed it!”

He seemed to take a moment to calm himself as he took a shaky vent and released you. Your optics were wide at his outburst. You swear you could have seen a hint of regret and pain behind his expression. It made you wonder what exactly he meant by what he said.

“What do you mean? Are you saying Optimus doomed Cybertron? That’s not right. He said you bombed it all to slag. Trying to get rid of everyone but those who aligned with your beliefs.”

Starscream looked as if he might have another outburst but instead he just spoke through gritted denta. Leaning forward so his face was barely an inch away from yours. Barely contained rage seeping out of his every word.

“Those deceivers would have you believe they were the spotless victims of this war? What if I told you there wasn’t a war before Optimus Prime became what he is?”

He didn’t get to finish before several drones rush in and the main door to the circular room slides shut. There were distant klaxon to be heard before the noise was abruptly cut off. They hurriedly took defensive positions and Starscream looked around, more annoyed than alarmed.

“What the pit is it now?”

He places a digit on the side of his helm activating his communicator.

“Report. What’s going on out there.”

You couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation but he ducked quickly out of the cell. Throwing a brief ‘stay put.’ over his shoulder at you. The energy field hummed back to life caging you once more in the small room. Whatever it was must be big because there were now eight drones in the room with you.

Still reeling from the conversation you just had, you try to imagine what on earth he could have meant by that. There was no way Optimus Prime started the war on Cybertron. You couldn’t think about that right now. Whatever was happening most likely had to do with the Autobots and that made you smile. It was only a matter of time before they came for you. Their fierce protectiveness of the human race was one thing the Decepticons couldn’t flip around on them.

There was a thunderous crash and rubble bounced off of the energy field as the door to the cell block was blown open. Dust and smoke filled the air and there was shouting. Familiar voices made you stand, that hope filling your lines as you try to see through the smoke. Drones opened fire and were taken down with ease. Two familiar color schemes make their way towards the field. One pair of big worried blue optics stare through the field at you, making you almost sob with relief and recognition. The field drops and a flash of yellow was all you see before you are practically taken off your peds. The yellow mech clinging to you like you might just crumble in his servos. Of course you’d recognize him anywhere.

“Bee! Oh thank goodness!”

I’m curious for those that do follow me…are you here for my writing or my fan art? Just wanna know what’s most important to focus on.

Emptiness Machine

Starscream X Reader (Mech Pilot AU)

Author note: y’all have patiently waited for juicy interactions between Starscream and reader and now next chapter we will have one! :3 I am so excited. Anyway here’s the next chapter.

Chapter 10

‘Where is it? where is it?’ Starscream thought as he dug frantically through a drawer in his habisuite. His wing hung painfully by the few lines that Megatron didn’t rupture in his anger. His frame was wet with energon as he searched for his stash of medical supplies. This was one of Megatron’s worst tempers yet. Usually Megatron let him free with only minor injuries. Something to keep the bots under his command afraid of him. This time he made Starscream an example. Taking his time and making a show of humiliating Starscream in front of his subordinates. He bared his denta in fury and agony as he thought about what he would do if he could fight back. If those imbeciles didn’t respect and fear their leader so much, if they wouldn’t turn on him if he stood up to Megatron. He wanted their respect and their loyalty just as much as he wanted to lead them. Though he wouldn’t lead them with falsehoods and intimidation as the warlord saw fit to.

Throwing the drawer aside that he’d emptied searching for an energon patch, he looks around frantically. There must be something he could use to stabilize his wounds. He’d planned for this, stolen medical supplies so he could take care of this himself. He didn’t need anyone else. Especially those mindless idiots who idolized that brute of a warlord. The first time something like this happened, he was refused help at the makeshift med bay. Hook locked the door on him, shaking his helm and telling him it was Megatron who ordered him to refuse to aid the injured seeker. He started taking supplies for himself then. Finding ways to treat his own injuries.

Finally in the last drawer he found it. A single energon patch and several welding rods. He could use an old polishing cloth as a line clamp if necessary. The wound in his side pulsed with pain as he applied the patch. Gritting his denta in pain, he activated the patch and it pulsed to life. Immediately he felt the numbing relief of the infusion. Medical grade energon was hard to come by these cycles. All mining efforts were redirected to the production of the synthetic energon used in the production of drones. Another one of Megatron’s plans that Starscream sneered at. He knew way too much of his leader’s attention was in the wrong place. Thats why the war had gone on so long. His priorities were backwards. Focusing on the power he gained and not the mechs he had under his command. Starscream knew he’d be a better leader. But Megatron made sure no one would respect him. They’d see him as a coward.

For a moment he just sat there on the edge of his berth. The nerve sensors in his injured wing had been so heavily damaged that they had all but gone numb. Taking a deep vent in he leaned forward and rested his helm on his fist. Balefully he stared down at his peds. Was this what he’d been reduced to? Cowering and taking the blame for something he wasn’t responsible for? It hadn’t always been like this. Before the energon on cybertron ran out, before the discovery of the thirteen worlds, he was respected. Megatron shared his plans and knowledge with him. Trusted him with important duties as his second in command. He gave him honor and encouragement. This was altogether different. A desperate Megatron who had begun to go mad with grief over a world lost.

Energon still leaked from his torn wing, dripping into a small puddle at his peds. It shook him from his spiraling thoughts as it ran sluggishly down the plating of his servo. His vision started to blur and he knew he’d have to at least temporarily patch up his wing before he bled out. Standing on unsteady peds, he limped over to his desk and grabbed the welding iron. The few rods he had would be enough but it would be hard to reach it on his own. His pride had broken most of the relationships he had with other bots on the Nemesis. Even his own trine had distanced themselves from him as he took out his anger at Megatron on everyone around him.

Taking a deep vent in against the inevitable pain and balling his servo into a fist, he sent it into the wall. A shout of frustration escaped his intake to hide the despair that welled up in his optics. Ignoring the aching, self inflicted, loneliness in his spark; he loaded the rods into the welding iron and set his wing as best he could. White hot pain seared through him and he bit back a groan as the iron touched his injured mesh. He clenched his denta and screwed his optics shut as he welded the torn joint back together in a crude line. It was grotesque looking to say the least. At least he wasn’t leaking energon anymore. One of his shoulder joints was strained and he had a few other minor injuries that his nanites would eventually take care of. Setting down the iron he gripped the edge of his desk and tried to control the shaking in his limbs. All this pain and for what?

Suddenly the walls of his habisuite felt confining. He had to get out of there. Go somewhere, anywhere that wasn’t here. Perhaps a flight would do him some good. There was something beautiful and peaceful about this miserable planet. He turned and stalked out through the sliding door and past several drones who watched him with emotionless faceplates. He pushed past a trio of constructicons who wouldn’t look him in the optics. Whispering amongst themselves as he tried his very best to hold his injured wing just as high as the other. Finally making it to the flight deck, he transformed and took off. Going nowhere in particular, just away from the Nemesis.

•••

You sat with your legs dangling off of the medical slab listening to Dr. Antonov as he explained the life support apparatus he was installing in your cockpit. Bee, who had somehow pushed his way into the med bay past Ratchet, looked on with a worried expression. Looking down at the limp form resting in your chassis, you couldn’t blame him. By all appearances your body was dead. All ashen features and lifeless limbs. You looked peaceful, the only thing that gave any sign of life was the occasional twitch of an eye or a digit. These were signs of a strong connection to your machine. Dr. Antonov finishes hooking up a milky looking bag and needle to the inside of your arm and mech. Looking up at you with a furrowed brow, he speaks.

“Seraphim. These, I am adding to keep your body alive. This nutrient IV drip will supplement the energon infusion and keep your body functioning. This is temporary just until I figure out how to disconnect you safely. Remember this is your body. Take care of it and don’t forget who you are in this time you are stuck.”

You nod solemnly, understanding the gravity of the situation and how easy it would be to forget you weren’t Cybertronian. You had already struggled in the past with separation from your mech and now you were permanently fused with it. At least until the good doctor found a way to get you out. The realization that this could very well kill you set in like a heavy fog over your form. Dr. Antonov nods and steps back. Giving you permission to leave if you wanted to. Taking a deep vent in and closing your cockpit around the vulnerable body within, you stand.

“I’m…going on patrol. I’ll be back later ok. You’ve got my location. Comm if you need anything.”

Turning to leave without looking at Bumblebee, even as he started to protest, you make your way through the sliding door of the med bay. The doctor raises his hand as if to silence the yellow scout.

“It’s better if she figures this out on her own.”

Outside the bay, several of the others were out on patrol. You pass Michael, who gives you a sympathetic look but doesn’t speak. Standing next to his mech on one of the many platforms surrounding it. The Autobot base and base of operations for Project Archangel was situated in a remote mountainous location. Far away from the prying eyes of Decepticons and humans alike. It was peaceful and as the bay doors opened to let you out, the cool breeze hit your faceplate and grounded you in reality. The lake a few miles below was quiet and tranquil. A perfect spot to sit and think. A deck officer offered you a ground bridge to wherever you wanted to go. You politely declined, just wanting to walk for a bit and think.

This area of the world was a protected wildlife preserve. One of monumental significance to earth. The trees were dwarfed even Michael’s heavy mech. It always made you feel small in a humbling way. As if your problems were just a tiny ripple in the vast ocean of the universe. It was comforting in a way. The musty smell of damp leaves and fresh scent of evergreen drifted past as you tread along the forest. The gaps between the massive trees were plenty large enough to allow for your Cybertronian-like frame. It wasn’t long until you reached the edge of the lake. A soft breeze fell over its surface, disturbing the perfect mirror that reflected the afternoon sky. Settling yourself among the rocks, you let the sunlight hit your faceplate and silently thank Dr. Antonov for the addition of nerve sensors so you could still experience warmth.

Thinking of warmth made you recall the feeling of warm servos on your frame as the Decepticon communications officer carried you to the holding cell. Why had they been described with such hate by the Autobots? Weren’t they all the same species? They hadn’t killed you. Just mishandled you out of ignorance. At least the ones beneath the ruthless warlord. You shuddered at the memory of being in Megatron’s grasp. His cold and indifferent optics focused on your helpless form.

A sound from above rattles you out of your thoughts. The scream of jet engines. It wasn’t uncommon to hear near the base as two of the Autobots were flight frames. But this didn’t sound like either of them. You focus your optics and catch a glimpse of a startlingly familiar color scheme. Red, white and blue with hints of grey and an orange cockpit. What was the second in command of the Decepticons doing here? Looking closer you saw a worrying trail of black smoke from one of his wings. Maybe he was chased all the way out here by an Autobot patrol? You didn’t see anyone in pursuit when you scanned the horizon. Watching as he landed clumsily to your left and transformed. His face a mask of pain that told you he was in fact injured. Limping forward, he lowered himself heavily to his knees at the waters edge. This was something you had to investigate for yourself.

😭😭😭 I love him

I was wondering if you would ever write for a bayverse mech? If so, could we maybe please get a bayverse Mirage fic? I love how goofy and unserious he is

Sure! He’s on my list, anyway

Valentine’s Oneshot-Mirage

ROtB Mirage x Reader

• “Oh, sweetspark. Baby, look at you,” he says, transforming and standing as you come down the stairs into the garage. Because this? He’s never seen you dressed up like this, that midnight blue material shimmering with your movements. “That for me?” Please, let it be for him. Maybe you’re finally coming around, because he’s been flirting. Trying to get your attention and you just laugh. Think he’s joking.

• “No, it’s not for you. That new guy at work asked me out.” And his grin falters, servos flexing and then tapping against his thigh. Why does he look like a kicked puppy all of a sudden? Uncertain, you toy with your hem. He flirts all the time, but that’s just him. Shameless teasing his style. It’s not like he was serious. Right?

• Primus, why does that hurt so much? The idea of you smiling for someone else. Would you let that guy hold your hand? Kiss you? Do more? How well do you know this person? Not better than you know him, so why? “You like this guy?” Wants to ask you to change. Maybe those baggy jeans you like and an oversized t-shirt. Something that doesn’t scream frag me. “I mean, of course you do. Never mind.” Running a hand over his helm, he paces. Just say it. Say anything to keep you from going out that door dressed like that to meet someone else. Just ripping his spark out with those soft hands.

• “He’s nice,” you say, watching him pace. And you’ve never seen him so agitated before. Wait, is he jealous? Hear his muttered ‘of course, he is.’ And he is jealous. Freezing as all of his shameless flirting shifts. All those little compliments, the way he’s constantly reaching to touch you, run a servo through your hair, against your back or arm. Biting your bottom lip you watch him press his servos against his helm venting loudly. “But, there is this other guy. He’s great.” Your best friend.

• There’s even more competition? Rocking to a stop, he stares down at you. “Yeah? You like him, too?” Doesn’t want to ask, doesn’t want to know. But can’t stop himself. You can love whoever you want, he’s still going to watch over you. Protect you even as it kills him inside. “Guess he makes you happy?”

• Heart racing, you fist your hem. If you’re wrong about this he’s probably going to laugh at you. “He’s my best friend. I mean he’s always cutting up, flirting, so I didn’t realize he was serious.” Shoulders lifting in a shrug, he stares at you, his hand slowly falling. Not saying anything. “He always has my back and I just, I’m sorry I didn’t realize, but I like him, too.”

• Him. Primus, you’re talking about him. Finally seeing him. “Yeah? Babe, this guy, he’d wait for you. Wait forever if he needed to. Because you’re worth it.” Going to his knees when you take an uncertain step his way and lay a little hand in his much bigger palm when he offers it. Trusting yourself to him. Other hand cupping you, he’s afraid to move as you reach up an arm and he slowly bends to let you curl it around his neck. Hugging him. “This guy loves you.”

Reblog if you’re over 20 and still read/write fan fiction.

I’m curious!