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A/N: A story
where Jacob Frye thinks his S/O is dead only to wake up and find her in his
bed. [R/Q from anon—thank you for your patience!]
Because of the request, the point of view is going to be changed, and this will
be read more like a fanfiction than a reader insert, I feel, so…insert yourself
or insert a fan character or whoever. Hope that is okay~
He was always worried as of late. Jacob Frye had accepted
(Y/N)’s hand in marriage, but that action alone…an action that should warm him
to the core…chilled him to death as it felt like he had damned her to die. The
mere wedding band he placed upon her finger was almost equal to a noose in his
opinion, and he couldn’t help but find himself a reckless bundle of nerves when
he wasn’t around his wife.
“I swear, you worry too much at times, Jacob,” (Y/N) teased,
sitting down at the loveseat upon the train headquarters. “You weren’t always
like this, so what has you so on edge?”
Admittedly, Jacob knew that this wasn’t like him—he knew it
was weird and nearly out of character for him; however, he was denied any sort
of love he found genuine growing up, and the fear of letting that slip away was
heavy upon his shoulders and heart.
When (Y/N) called him out on it, he chuckled briefly while
removing his top hat to dig his fingers within his hair as if to remove the
worry from his mind. “I apologize for it, love.” Tossing his hat off to the
side to let it land where it may, he moved himself upon the loveseat next to
the woman he adored and sprawled across it with his head in her lap to gaze
upward at her with a playful smirk, his hands folded upon his stomach as he did
It was a little like finally pressing your lips to the fine edge of a china cup filled with dark, aromatic cocoa, swirling with thick promise, a tease to your senses.The first taste was always rich and bitter, sweet and nearly scalding to the tongue. Hot, thick heat slipping into your mouth; the taste, smell, feel of it, all encompassing.
That’s what it was, Louis thought, slipping his tongue inside Harry’s body, completely lost in the erotic taste, feel, smell of him. Harry writhed against the mattress, arse up, almost as if he wasn’t sure if he wanted to push back and completely smother Louis, or if he wanted to bolt forward and escape the clever, clever tongue circling his rim. Louis grabbed Harry’s firm flesh and held him still. Harry keened and rutted back on to Louis’ mouth, tongue, his face. Louis smirked against the hot, wet skin.
This was them. Pushing each other, driving one another until it was just too much. Altogether too much.
The Autobots are flexing serious muscle and new weapons in Transformers: Age of Extinction, the fourth installment in the Michael Bay-directed live-action franchise.
Optimus Prime and Bumblebee took plenty of knocks in the third episode, 2011’s Transformers: Dark of the Moon. But the computer-generated pair quickly return to form in the new flick opening June 27.
They “are bigger and badder-ass than they have ever been,” says Lorenzo di Bonaventura, who has produced all four films, with Steven Spielberg and Bay as executive producers.
“Michael (Bay) has always been conscientious about the need to keep topping ‘the last one.’ First it was topping the animated Transformers television program, now we need to top our third movie,” says Di Bonaventura.
Bay says the “new chapter” required refreshing the look. “A lot of people are like, 'What does that mean, Transformers 4?’ It’s like Batman with a new suit. We needed to change the look from top to bottom.”