-> warning/tags: minors dni. sexual tones (not super explicit), yearning, poetic/metaphorical writing. 1.3k words
it’s my bday on thursday, so i wrote this for ME! anyway, a different tone to my usual posts (more like how i write for possession but without dark themes)
Wisps of him flicker behind your ribs, a tender flame that kindles somewhere deep within you. It's comforting and warming, it guides you when the way forward seems dark. Within the darkness, a match is struck. You gasp as the hallway fills with light, a stark contrast to what you've known up until now.
Suddenly, your whole body knows his name. It bounces off the walls, oscillates in the lull space inside your heart. Those two words, Optimus Prime, they hum through your wrists, spilling warmth into your palms. The words mingle with your lifeblood, as if they were uttered to remember the shape of you. Your blood refuses to forget the heart that it belongs to, and only serves to sustain yours so that you may continue loving him until the last beat. You carry him wherever you go, circulating him through yourself like a champion of his love.
Each pulse beats for him, like a Morse code that depicts your yearning. Above and beyond all else, he holds the key to your heart. He will gatekeep it, keeping it safe from anyone with less than pure intentions.
I love you, you whisper into the hallway. Your confession carves itself into the brick, immortalised for as long as you both stand. If forever were an option, he would be your choice every time. You rest your heart with him, knowing that your feelings are imbued in every cell of your body.
There is something so intimate and beautiful about promising yourself to one who differs from you so greatly. When the gulf that separates you seems like light-years apart, but you never fail to meet in the middle.
You are not built from the same language, not born from the same stars. And yet, something within you both rearranges when the other is near. Not cataclysmically, perhaps not in ways that anyone on the outside would notice. But it's a quiet law of nature that bends for the two of you, an understanding of compromise that no one else would understand.
It does not always make sense, the way you fit together. Your words are soft at the edges, they wander in riddles, but his land clean and direct. You once thought of the two of you as parallel lines, always close, but never touching. Whatever resided in those forlorn thoughts, those glances that lasted a moment too long, it could not ever have come to fruition. You tried to reason away how you felt, laid out the differences between you like evidence. He stands where you falter, you feel where he remains untouched. Your worlds were shaped with no intentions to ever overlap.
But love never heeds logic. It does not abide by the laws which are unspoken. No permission was granted, but what you shared grew anyway. Perhaps a small rebellion which will reimagine the way love stories are told for centuries to come. If loving him was wrong, then you never wanted to be right. He is your choice, not because he's easy, but because it is certain and you work through every reflection of asymmetry like none of it ever mattered.
I need you, you speak against the long walls of the hallway. Your confession stares you in the face in the form of blazing flames that rage more at your voice.
Ordinary moments feel sacred when they are shared with him. When his blue servos run up your soft body, he charges you with something more than ardour. Something primordial, something undefined. Every touch is a love letter in itself. He has unearthed secrets from your skin that have never been heard in all of humankind. He has created an unprecedented love, one that never tires or wanes.
On your knees, you pray to him. Prayer has never come easy, but loving him feels like devotion. You accept his offerings, allowing him to give you what you need. With a mouth full of gospel and metal, you are whole. You drink his wine, letting it burn slow and sacred down your throat. Call it ritual, call it remembrance, call it whatever it needs to be. As long as this memory is burned into your mind, you have no qualms.
The intricate frame he wields is a gothic chapel, every curve and edge an archway to a higher plane. Your breaths are your hymns, every glance a sin that you cannot help from committing. His name is written in places on you that no scripture would dare to go. When your body has returned to the earth from where you came, your love will still be evidenced in your bones. You do not ask to be freed from this longing, you do not want to know peace outside of him.
I'm yours, Optimus. The words echo around you, making sure you heard exactly what you said. You must be aware of the ramifications of what you claim, and you must hear them in your own voice.
You lean towards him, even when he is not near. Your soul has chosen a direction that it cannot unlearn. There is a pull on your spine, an ache that cradles behind your knees. The world tilts beneath you, bringing you to him. This love does not belong in the mind, but in your muscles. It's a breath that catches halfway, hinged on his proximity to you. Your body is a compass, and he is your true north. His magnetic field has become your gravity, it keeps you grounded and stable.
When everything else seems uncertain, he is one constant that never fails. His presence is all but guaranteed, something you can take as a truth with certainty. There is no fear, there is no worry. He exists at the centre, and you will always orbit around him. Even when he is not with you, when the air feels different and thinner, you know he will always come back to you.
If gravity is the force that brings everything into place, then what are you supposed to call this need to fall exactly where he is? Your days curve back to him without your explicit intention to do so.
There is a moment, just before you fall, where the body knows what is about to happen but has not yet surrendered. That stillness is a defining moment, and it determined the trajectory of the rest of your life.
You have harnessed the weight of the universe, the steady pressure that hinges in your chest. It's not crushing, nor is it a burden. It anchors you to him, it keeps you turning and tied to something larger than yourself. There is an undeniable truth that encompasses you, and it's shaped just like him.
You are my one true love, is the last thing you say.
In the dimness of the meeting room on the ship, you sit on top of the table whilst his men are gathered round. You gaze at him, seated at the head of the table. His words are murmurs in your ears as he makes his addresses and orders, gives the clearest of instructions and objectives.
He's strong, noble, and handsome. He carries the world on his shoulders, and he never makes it anyone else's burden to bear. Selfless, caring and kind. He is everything you ever could have asked for and more.
You're so very in love with him, the entire universe ceases to exist outside of you both. Parts of you believe that you'll never stop falling in love with him.
In your soul, you know that it will always be him. For what is love, if not the promise of eternity?
this also lowkey was kinda practice for the new optimus big series i have planned LOL
a/n: g1 optimus prime my beloved. literally the most indulgent thing i've ever written in my entire life. i had in mind g1 optimus for this, but honestly, pretty much any optimus works! no specified pronouns for the reader!
warnings: none, it's all fluff! but just to give a heads up, it's all in lowercase because i found it fit better with the vibe i was going for. i apologize in advance if it's cringe 💔
summary: in a rare, calm night, optimus prime finds his greatest peace simply holding you close as you drift off against his chest. hearing your gentle breaths, feeling you safe and small in his arms... that tender moment is more than enough the weary prime could ever ask for.
word count: not quite sure since i wrote it on tumblr directly, but i'd say it's shorter than 1000 words :)
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
it was quieter tonight. a rare moment of peace for humans and autobots alike.
seated on the edge of optimus' knee with your legs swinging idly, you had been talking his audials off about all the silly earth things. from that movie you watched recently to how beautifully the sunset had painted the sky earlier, you rambled happily about every little detail of your day, like he always let you do.
he just listened, sitting cross legged. those soft, blue optics remained fixed on your face, the shining stars of the night sky reflecting so clearly within them.
it felt nice. really nice. most people tuned you out after a while, but not him. never him.
the low hum of his engines and the gentle whir of his systems lulled you, gently coaxing your eyelids to grow heavier by the second. your voice slowly trailed off mid sentence, head nodding forward as sleep tugged at you. it was getting quite late, after all.
"you are tired," he said, a gentle observation as he tilted his helm.
"mmh... maybe a little," you mumbled, rubbing at your eyes. "sorry, i didn't mean to bore you, i swear..."
“you could never bore me.” his voice was that deep rumble, gentle like he was afraid of startling you. one servo moved slow, carefully cupping around your back. “but you’re exhausted, my friend."
his hand was warm, a comforting heat that seeped through your clothes and spread throughout your whole body. you didn't fight it even a little, simply leaning into the touch with a contented sigh.
he shifted with painstaking slowness, lowering his frame until he reclined fully against the sturdy trunk of a tall pine. the servo at your back held you securely as his other hand slid beneath you, lifting your body and cradling your form against his broad chest plates. a slow vent of air left him as he settled you there.
"better?" his voice was barely a murmur now, softened to something meant only for you.
you hummed, tucking yourself closer, pressing your cheek right over the spot where his spark pulsed strong and steady, a lullaby only you were lucky enough to hear. your palm flattened against the scratched plating, fingers splayed wide, as if you could reach the light inside him that never dimmed. that glow felt so powerful, so constant, like it could go on forever without tiring. and in the hazy drift toward sleep, your mind wandered to how much he carried every single day, how he never let it show.
as atlas held the vast starry heavens upon his shoulders, so optimus bore the weight of two worlds and an endless war upon his frame.
he never complained, never faltered, but in tender moments like this you could almost sense the faint ache he buried beneath his composure. and yet, here with you, cradled so close, he softened into something warm and bright, as though even the heaviest burdens could not follow him here.
he didn't speak again. instead, his thumb traced slow, featherlight paths down your back and up again in a soothing motion.
your eyes slipped closed completely, breathing deepening as sleep settled in. you could almost feel his spark syncing with your heartbeat, the two rhythms blending into one.
just before sleep took you, you felt the subtle shift of his frame as he angled himself, letting his shadow cast over you, sheltering your face from the thin, silver light threading through the branches.
optimus prime, noble leader of the autobots and savior of cybertron, stayed motionless after that.
he simply watched over you. listened to each soft breath you took against his chassis. cherished the faint warmth of your body seeping into his plating like gentle sunlight after the longest winter. beneath the pale moon, he marveled at how peaceful you looked, a precious sight he would protect with every ounce of his being.
here, in this fragile calm, the war and its endless shadows did not exist.
there was only this.
only you, curled up so small and safe in the arms of the prime who would lay down his spark for you.
only the steady, enveloping heat of his frame keeping every chill of the night far away.
only the wordless promise held deep in his spark, certain and true:
he would keep you safe.
always.
"sweet dreams," he whispered, the words softer than a breeze, "my tiny spark."
I swear I'm working on stuff I just been so tired lately. 😭😭
small snippets that I wrote last night for Pursuit's lore:
Pursuit comes from a sub species of cybertronains that are called the infiltrators. His kind were designed for stealth and subterfuge as they were much faster, stronger, and smarter than most Autobots and Decepticons. They have the unique ability to blend in with their environments and are highly skilled in gathering information and obviously assassination.
The Infiltrators originally began as emotionless bots built solely to serve their superiors. They were pretty much treated like tools with no sense of identity nor individualism. Over time as the war dragged on, some of the infiltrators started to develop personalities, having thoughts and feelings that weren’t programmed into them. Eventually, the Infiltrators started to rebel against their superiors and slowly started to form a culture among them.
sorry for any grammar mistakes or any weird wording, I'm not very confident in my writing lolol 😅
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