Hey It’s Simp From Your Piece “Miss You”! I Was Wondering If U Could Make A Pt2 Of Marvus Domming

I come simply to ask for some thigh riding with marvus, gender neutral reader if possible

You got it anon!

Hi, I'm here on behalf of Ben a transgender who's life is under constant threat and needs to flee to a safe place. He's seeking support from the LGBTQ community. I have his post with more info pinned on my blog.  Please consider supporting if you can. Don't forget to spread the news by rebloging.  Thank you

Reblogged in case its real. However there are some interesting conflicting patterns. On the post you use female pronouns for Ben but in your message to me you use male pronouns. Still giving the benefit of the doubt.

ur government assigned gender for the day is the first thing u get when u click this link to a randomised wikipedia article. NO REROLLS . i am the  trollsteineggje mountain in norway

Rodimus x Professional!Reader Pt. 1

The first part is from Reader's POV and the second will be from Rodimus' POV.

Parts:

Part 2- https://www.tumblr.com/morsartis/712534482204377088/rodimus-x-professionalreader-pt-2?source=share

Part 3- https://www.tumblr.com/morsartis/712534804211662848/rodimus-x-professionalreader-pt-3?source=share

----

Hot water beat down on your back as you rested your head on the shower wall. Everything ached. From your toes to your scalp you felt like one massive bruise. It wasn’t uncommon for you to get back to your quarters feeling drained and tired. Ever since the Lost Light had taken on human crew members your hands had been full, especially following your commander's death. A day that still weighed something fierce on your heart. You’d had to step up- despite the fact that you hadn’t been next in line to lead at all. There had been too much panic, too much grief, and you had done what you had always done in the face of terrible personal tragedy and chaos. You’d buckled down and taken over. Somehow that had led to you being promoted as the human liaison to the captain of the Lost Light. It was an honor certainly but it was something you struggled with. All that responsibility on your shoulders, Commander Jameson had grown livid when the promotion had passed over him and went to you instead. His contempt and judgment was yet another thing that weighed you down. He made it clear that he had little to no respect for you or your new position. It had led to endless fights over the tiniest things that shouldn’t have been fights in the first place. 

Sighing heavily you blinked past the water running down your face. The need for actual running water on the Lost Light had been Commander Hennis’ first petition when you’d come aboard and after her death it had only been right for you to continue that petition. You were grateful for it. Slicking your hair back you took another moment to simply breathe. One deep breath in and then the slow exhale. Shutting off the spray you blindly reached for your towel. Wrapping the soft fluffy thing around yourself you relished its warmth as you stepped out of the tub and into the slightly cooler room. You cursed when you realized you’d left your sleep clothes on your bed. Stepping into the main portion of your room you froze, the blood draining from your face so quickly you almost felt light headed. Clutching the towel tightly to yourself you straightened up immediately. Shit, you were way too underdressed, your hair was still wet and tangled, you were wearing a towel. 

“Captain!” You resisted the urge to salute if only because you feared losing your towel. Rodimus froze, optics wide as he glanced down at you. Jesus, you could die of mortification. 

“I-,” His voicebox made an odd sound you could only describe as a radio dial, “I didn’t realize you were here.”

“I thought to get an early night, Sir.” Oh you just wanted to curl into a ball and die. This was so unprofessional. God, you even planned your own pajamas to be professional in case of an emergency. Why did he have to walk in now? Why did you forget your clothes on your bed? You glanced at your folded clothes and felt a new mortification rising when you realized you’d done like you usually did and placed your underwear on top. Your very nice, lacey, underwear that you rarely got the chance to wear and only decided to wear tonight to make yourself feel nice. As a secret little pick-me-up that only you would know about. The red stood out starkly against your grey sweats and space program t-shirt, the clothes far too professional to even consider what you might be wearing underneath. Even the sports bra you’d chosen was cute with its little lacey front and tiny decorative bow. As if sensing your mortification you could only observe in horror as Rodimus followed your gaze to the clothes you’d plainly laid out. If it were even possible it was as if he froze and locked up more than previously. 

Was- was he blushing?! 

Your face was officially on fire you were simply going to kill yourself. Anything to escape the mortification. Your co-captain, your liaison partner, knew what you were going to wear to bed and he’d been around human culture long enough to understand exactly why you might have been embarrassed. Grasping at straws like it was all you could do, you tried to regain control of the situation. 

“Ahem,” You cleared your throat drawing his attention back to you, “Was there a particular reason you were coming into my quarters Captain?” 

Rodimus straightened up quickly his grip on his holopad tightening. 

“Ah- yes. There was- well… Ahem. To be honest-,” He was stammering, god you were never going to live down the embarrassment, “I wanted your opinion on a transfer I’ve been considering.” 

“A transfer?”

“Yes. One of the humans here.”

That wiped the embarrassment straight from your system. Technically Rodimus could transfer whoever he wished at any point so long as Megatron signed off on said transfer. It had been an unspoken rule since Commander Hennis’ and since your own tenure that all human transfers were to be decided by the human liaison. For Rodimus to even consider transferring a human without giving the full reigns to you must have been serious. 

“May I ask the reason for transfer?”

“Insubordination.” The way he said it left little room to question. His voice was grave and serious in a way you rarely heard from your usually compassionate companion. Clearly this was not a decision he had made lightly. 

“And the crewmember?” You asked after a moment when it became clear he was not going to elaborate. 

“Commander Jameson.” 

“What?” You asked the question slipping out before you could help it. To say you were shocked was an understatement. You had thought that Commander Jameson had been wise enough to keep his displeasure and insubordination pointed towards you and you only. 

“I think it would be best for both the crew and for Commander Jameson himself if he were placed with a different vessel.” 

“My apologies then Captain, I had thought that Commander Jameson had merely been targeting me due to the promotional passover that occurred following Commander Hennis’ passing. I hadn’t a clue that he’d been lashing out towards other higher-ups. Please allow me to talk to him and discuss these matters, I shall ensure he keeps his issues with the chain of command solely with me.” 

“That’s the problem!” Rodimus shouted, waving his arm through the air. You jumped. “He shouldn’t be treating you that way in the first place! You received the promotion because you earned it. Your crew would have been killed if you hadn’t made the calls you did and kept a level head. While Commander Jameson was too busy trying to prove himself you were putting in the actual work. You brought your crew together, you led them into action, you pulled them through that dark time. Not him! I am tired of hearing his baseless complaints about your leadership. You’ve gone above and beyond what was expected of you for the sake of your human crew and your cybertronian companions!” 

You could feel the flush traveling from your cheeks all the way to your shoulders the flattery soothing a sore spot you had been nursing for a while now. But still, despite Jameson’s clear dislike of you, you had a duty to him as his superior. 

“I understand that Rodimus and I thank you for your conviction of my skills,” You replied soothingly, adjusting your hold on your towel, “However, I have a duty to my crew. Commander Jameson’s grievances are with me and me alone. Outside of that he has followed all his orders from other officers to a perfect T. Unless there are incidents I haven’t been informed of..?” You trailed off waiting for a reply. 

“... No. He’s followed orders from other crew members well enough.” Rodimus admitted begrudgingly. You offered him a sincerely sympathetic smile. 

“Then I owe him the chance to discuss options with me first before the call is made for him. If he wishes to transfer then I will be happy to have him transferred, but if he wishes to stay then that decision should be respected as well.”

That was clearly not what he wanted to hear. Rodimus’ expression turned stony, every bit the captain he had to be instead of the mech you had gotten to know. 

“Please let him know that if he fails to follow your direct orders again he will be transferred regardless.” His voice was cold, a sort of anger that sent chills down your spine. You’d never heard anything like it. From Megatron you might have been able to keep the surprise off your face but from Rodimus? The change was too intense not to show your shock. “I’ve transferred the documents to you for review. Good night.” 

Just like that he was gone leaving you standing there shivering from the cold in your towel wondering what had gotten into the normally sunny optimistic mech. Swallowing nervously you shuffled towards your pajamas and got dressed. Everything would have to wait until the morning but already anxiety was beginning to set in. What would you do about this? What could be done to fix it? If you didn’t know him so well by now you would have thought Rodimus was angry with you, but you knew that despite what had happened his anger was directed towards Jameson. With a deep breath you sat on your bed and tried to relax. You’d get this sorted out just like you always did. It would be fine. And then you could talk with Rodimus about why it had upset him the way it did.

Let's Link

The bass was pounding hard enough you couldn’t tell where the music ended and your pulse began. Sandwiched between Marvus and a wall you could hear the party in full swing not even a scant few feet from the hallway the two of you were hidden in. Let’s Link still blaring through the speakers as Marvus’ face dipped lower. You bit your fist to stifle the frankly embarrassing moan that wanted to slip out. It was an entirely inappropriate time to be grinding against each other like horny teenagers when he had to be out on stage in just a scant few minutes but damn if it didn’t just make the entire situation that much hotter. You tightened your legs around his waist causing him to hiss against your jugular, his claws dug furrows into the wall and you hoped no one would notice that until the both of you were long gone from the party.

“Damn it, if this wasn’t a fuckin gig I swear-,” He snarled his own moan cutting him off as you pulled him in closer by his horns. His lips were quick to find yours hot and heavy as you both panted and moaned. He licked along your bottom lip before pressing in and soon the music was drowned out as the two of you continued to make out. You should have been trying to calm down, trying to pretend that you both weren’t horny and far too close to the edge. Every roll of his hips against yours, every nip and kiss, the iron grip he had on your hip to drag you closer as his other hand clawed at the wall- you were so close it was nearing painful.

“Aaaaaaannnnnnddddd lets hear it for our next act: MARVUS XOLOTO!!!”

“Fuck!” You snapped as the announcer called for him. Marvus growled and bared his teeth, eyes scarlet with rage at being interrupted.

“When this party is over we’re finishing what we started.” He hissed in your ear before pulling away. You let out a small whine as all the friction was taken away from you. The crowd was cheering wildly as he set you down on the ground again- you had to grab the wall to stay standing, your legs shaky from nearly getting to get off. He was lucky to be wearing plain black pants even though they were skin tight, no doubt there would have been an obvious stain had he been wearing his normal ones. He leaned down for one more lingering kiss before finally heading towards the stage. You swore yet again slamming your fist into the wall as you slid down to sit. The party couldn’t be over soon enough.

WHEN DID I GET 77 FOLLOWERS HOLY SHIT

WHERE DID YOU GUYS COME FROM????

WHAT

Comfort

Somewhere you could hear distant music, the notes soft and faint to the point you could delude yourself into thinking it was only in your head. The music coupled with the open window and the gentle breeze that would sway through your curtains created a sort of softness to the atmosphere. Or maybe it was the lethargy caused by the summer heat. You could never be too sure on that one. Laying on your bed you continued to lazily card your fingers through soft white curls. He’d fallen asleep some time ago and you were pleased to know he was getting any decent sleep at all. His weight was a comfort, head pillowed slightly below your chest and one arm wrapped underneath you around your waist. Had someone told you he was cuddly you might have laughed, but in a way it made a strange sort of sense. He was a twin after all, once upon a time he’d been so close to another as to share the same womb. You wondered if that was a thing with twins, if they’d spend their whole lives craving that sort of closeness with somebody. 

It had to be lonely if so. 

Your eyes drifted to your ceiling, the stars you’d placed there sometime in your youth when things were simple and you had yearned for the vastness of space to swallow you whole. Even pain, even suffering, had seemed simple then. But that had been long ago and you would never know how to explain to that younger self of yours what had led to your current situation. You couldn’t really explain it to anyone at all. Nails lightly scratching along his scalp you tried to recall when this closeness the two of you had had started but that moment was a blur amongst soft niceness you’d shown him since you had known him. It was in your nature to be kind and you had long stopped trying to deny yourself the urge to tend to others. Just as it had been in your nature to be cruel so that you could not be hurt. 

In his sleep Pietro shifted, tightening his hold. A freed hand shimmied under your body, curling loosely around a shoulder blade, before he settled. Wrapping an arm over the lean expanse of his back you let him curl close and intimate. Despite the intimacy there was no desire there. No lust. Just a warmth from the unspoken trust between you. In all the time you had known him he had been a friend and an enemy and a companion. A myriad of complicated truths and history between the two of you. 

An old friend.

Watching him now in his vulnerable sleep your eyes found the scars that peeked from underneath his shirt. The faded burns of hateful fire, the jagged scratches of war, and the stinging straight slashes of betrayal. When you had first tried to know him he’d been wild-eyed with stolen youth. Expecting a knife in the back that you never gave. He was cruel then, cruel in his suffering for fear of much the same. You had your moments of cruelty too back then. Time and experience had curbed that cruelty and dulled it with compassion and melancholy. He carried with him a great never ending sadness behind quick wit and sharp barbs. Once, when he’d been vulnerable and you had simply been there he spoke of a community afraid to love him in fear he’d be snatched from them. Of a time and place where his differences didn’t just affect him but his entire family. How he strived to embrace his own culture with the hope it would be brave enough to embrace him back. The fear his mother had, his aunt you would learn but she had always been his mother in his eyes, that he would be taken from her simply because he looked different than what the world thought the Roma should look like. That one day someone would snatch her own child from her and claim he’d been stolen from them instead. You would have liked to claim that you’d had an intelligent reply to that confession but you’d been younger then and newer to the world- suffered in different ways to the man that would become your friend- all you had been able to do was listen and offer him a hand to hold. Miraculously that had seemed to be enough for a while. You had educated yourself after that, made a better effort to understand so that he wouldn’t have to explain at every turn. 

Perhaps that had been a turning point between the two of you, one of many. A genuine attempt at understanding him when he felt isolated. Or perhaps that had been a mere moment and the turning point had been something else. Either way you had gotten to know him and he in turn had gotten to know you. Despite the terrible things you were both capable of, despite the way you had both hurt each other at times, despite every hurtle and thorn and fight between the two of you somehow you had managed to hold onto each other. You would never be sure if the way you wordlessly let him in and out of your life was healthy, if the hurt between the two of you ran deeper than either of you were comfortable admitting, but you had your moments. Moments as soft as this where the two of you were simply people. Simply seeking comfort. You could live with that. With knowing that Pietro found comfort when he needed it not just from his sister but from a friend. 

Even at your most terrible you had never denied him that. Even at his. Maybe that made you foolish, but you couldn’t deny that it could be sweet. Rubbing a hand over his back you closed your eyes, letting the afternoon heat lull you. In your bones you knew something would call him away, that some disaster or world altering tragedy would ask for him, demand his help in blood. But for the moment it was you and him in the safety of your childhood bed, a moment suspended in time and softness. For now there was the surety of comfort, the steady weight on top of you and the warmth of skin. A togetherness you rarely shared with anyone else. 

For now that was enough.

The Tweet Part 2

You’d been scrambling to work with Tagora and the others to come up with a way to cover Marvus’ blunder. It wasn’t like you could sweep it underneath the metaphorical rug or anything, it’d have to be addressed at some point, and soon if you wanted to avoid a good deal of the drama. As it stood, you’d both have to do an interview. A strictly regulated interview, of course, but an interview nonetheless. Something about salvaging your images. Not like you had an image to salvage. Marvus was the star here and you were just the friendly human. Never before had you been so happy for having only the most dumbass shit on your accounts paired with enough vague nonsense no one would look deeper than ‘bumbling newbie to concert got lucky and swept into a whirlwind romance’. The type of shit every fan wished would happen to them. 

A perfect cover.

You might even be able to save your privacy if you played up the newbie act. It wouldn’t exactly be hard. In all honesty you didn’t pay much attention to Marvus’ work other than that first concert and whatever he deigned important enough to share with you. Mostly your thoughts on cover art for albums. You were his human sounding board when it came to those things. Other than the odd question you were just along for the ride. The two of you had built your relationship outside of the limelight which is another reason it had lasted longer than his other relationships. You were his break from stardom and as far as you were concerned Marvus was just another troll. One with plenty of perks but still just an ordinary person. So, it wouldn’t be hard to play the idiot in this. Even if you knew exactly what you were stepping into at the start of this relationship.

Absorbed in your own share of work going through the preplanned script for a, now inevitable, interview you didn’t hear the lock on your door click or the muffled squeak of the front door’s rusting hinges. No, as you grumbled and griped to no one in particular about idiot juggalos and how you were going to beat them with their own clown shoes- Marvus was free to slip in quietly and stand in the doorway of the living room where you were typing away. If you had seen him and the smug little smile on his face you would have launched a pillow at his face no mercy. But he had every right to be smug. He’d been debating dropping hints about your relationship for some time now. The only reason he’d held back for so long was because it meant throwing you into the middle of the lion’s den. He simply couldn’t bring himself to do that to you. It was why he’d caved so quickly to his PR team’s demands. If they wanted to keep the relationship private then he had no qualms with it. Having you all to himself was a welcomed distraction from everything he put out in the open to please his fans. You weren’t one of the screaming masses, not some simple fan who wanted to claw their way into his life, you were simply his. You never saw him as Marvus The Performer, you saw him as Marvus The Person. Marvus your matesprit. Though, he wasn’t going to waste this opportunity now that it was out in the open. He wouldn’t ever have to pretend to be a concerned friend when people blatantly flirted with you. Wouldn’t have to play off his jealousy as simple attention seeking. You were his matesprit and those fuckers were lucky he didn’t straight out attack them. He would have been well within his rights to do it. Messiah’s knew he’d come close to throwing caution to the wind when it came to you. Only an idiot would try for a red quad with you now that Marvus was in the picture. It made him smile. 

“You gonna stand there like the cat who ate the canary or are you gonna help me fix this?” You huffed when you finally noticed him. He had the decency to look a little sheepish as he plopped down on the couch to read over the shit show his team was trying to wrangle into submission. 

“You know I wasn’t doin’ that shit on purpose right?” He asked after a moment of nothing but the cold shoulder. Usually you were happy to greet him with a smile and a kiss when he stopped by. Something he looked forward to every time he got to see you. Now you were too absorbed in work to offer him more than a glance. Your fingers slowed and the rapid tapping dwindled to nothing as you sighed. 

“I know, honestly I’m impressed we kept it under wraps this long.” You gave a small chuckle and shook your head. There was a hint of a smile playing on your lips and it made Marvus relax. As long as you weren’t truly angry with him he’d be fine. And you weren’t- not really- a little miffed but nothing serious. Seeing him relax and start grinning in that smug way again reminded you of your earlier promise though. With no warning you smacked him once- as hard as you could- in the arm. It’d do little more than shock him- the bastard. As predicted he jumped and swiveled his head to look at you in surprise. 

“Wh-,”

You didn’t give him the moment to speak as you glanced away long enough from your work to give him a kiss. He blinked at you silently until it caught up to him and a lazy grin spread across his face. Turning back to the laptop you felt his arms snake around you and ever so carefully drag you closer to him. You had a feeling you weren’t going to be getting much done now as he pressed a kiss just behind your ear. 

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