#frenzy x reader

[weenwrites]

Hey there!

Can I please get a platonic gn human reader with Earthspark Soundwave who's friends with Frenzy and they like to rough house and cause trouble together?

Thanks!

✎A/N: Hi! I really liked the idea of this ask and I loved writing it, so I hope that you're doing well and I hope you're having an absolutely wonderful day.

[ Please do not repost, plagiarize, or use my writing for AI! Translating my work with proper credit is acceptable, but please ask first! ]

You both enable each other's shenanigans, so you're probably a bad influence on each other, but does that matter if you were already mischievous and morally gray? Yes, yes it does matter, and Soundwave's about to learn why in just a second, because he is the one that bails you out of whatever shenanigans that you and Frenzy get into.

And every time, the two of you are usually very grateful for his intervention. You may expect to have him chew your ear off about it, but surprisingly he doesn't actually scold either of you for messing with people so long as you do it stealthily, but if you were to get injured or harmed in the process, he'll scold you and tell you to be more careful as well as discreet as he takes care of whoever's hurting you and then treating your injuries.

You may have met Frenzy first, and perhaps that's because you caught her messing with someone and joined in, and instead of turning on you, she liked your vibe and thought you were cool so she let you join in on the fun. Eventually these shenanigans became more frequent, and Soundwave began to notice that she'd go sneak off somewhere, and then she introduced you to one another. The whole meeting would be very akin to a parent meeting their kid's friend from school, and he's probably said "so this is the Y/N you keep talking about," upon first meeting you.

Aside from causing trouble, she does hang out with you in a way that doesn't include messing with people in any sort of capacity. She'll sneak over to your home with a bucket of paint and have you help touch up on her highlights and paint her nails all the while you listen to rock music at the dead of night. If you enjoy painting your nails or dyeing your hair too, then score! She'd be stoked to return the favor, and the two of you would probably spend hours and hours together, painting the other's nails, listening to rock, talking about whatever comes to mind, or watching youtube.

But indoor hangouts aside, she'll drag you out to go bully GHOST employees, or just people in general, but she's more inclined to bully GHOST employees, even if Soundwave warns the two of you to stay away from them unless you can't help it. But when it comes to messing with normal people, she's not gonna hurt them, no, that's only saved for GHOST employees, the most she'll do is scare the shit out of them and steal a thing or two, but for the most part her shenanigans are relatively harmless.

Eventually when Soundwave is captured by GHOST, that safety net is gone, and Frenzy starts to hang around you more often, perhaps even to the point of now automatically living in your house if that's possible (and since both she and Lazerbeak stick together, then I suppose Lazerbeak's there too). You get front-row seats to the Bot Brawls that she holds with Lazerbeak in the city, and even special access to the announcer booth if you want to join in on the fun.

[revelboo]

I would love know how soundwave reacts to rumble, frenzy and their darling having a sparkling

Sure 🤣

Sparked

Rumble x Reader, Frenzy x Reader

• Biting into the inside of your cheek as Rumble and Frenzy both hold out their arms as if they’re assistants on a game show drawing attention to a brand new car, you strike a pose to show off the sash they’d made you. ‘Sparked?’ Soundwave says, staring down at the three of you and with the visor and mask, you can’t get a read on the big mech. “You’re going to be a grandpa,” you reply, grinning as you pull the sash off over your head and drape it across Rumble to make him clear his vents at you. “Though, apparently he’s the one weird, alien, energy preggers.”

• Scowling at you as you flash him a grin, Rumble growls. Because he’d wanted to keep that embarrassment a secret. He’d thought he’d be a sire, but no. You’d made him a carrier and Frenzy is laughing. Again. Servos curling under into a fist, he considers punching his twin in the face, relenting when you wrap an arm around him. “So, uh, yeah. You’re a grand-sire, boss,” he manages, feeling awkward about it. Almost vulnerable, because he and the other cassettes? None of them are actually Soundwave’s. He’d adopted them. In Ratbat’s case, by force, but he didn’t spark any of them. Does Soundwave even care? Wishes he could tell what the mech was thinking as he stares at them.

• Why isn’t he saying anything? Just staring down at them all. Maybe he doesn’t approve of you? Stiffening, Frenzy’s chin lifts. Because you’re amazing. Fragging fantastic. “You’ve got a human, too,” he growls, shrugging off your hand when you reach for him. “Is ours not good enough?” Like nothing they do is good enough? Does Soundwave think he doesn’t see those resigned looks they get? The disappointment when they fail a task? ‘Frenzy,’ you protest.

• You get it, though. Know all about being a disappointment. About a parent having nothing good to say, because no matter how hard you try, it’s not enough. But can’t he at least pretend? Just fucking phone it in and say he’s happy for them? Because they look up to him, need his approval. And he just mass shifts so suddenly, you reel back and he’s reaching, arms wrapping around all of you to drag you into his frame. Hugging you all.

• Hanging onto Soundwave, Rumble feels the bigger mech bump his helm against him. Hugging him and how long has he wanted this? He’d have settled for a pat on the helm, a simple ‘good job.’ But this? Hooking his arm around you, he feels Frenzy do the same from the other side, hanging onto you. Hanging onto the mech that found two angry cassettes struggling in Kaon, had the patience to not give up on them when it would have been easier to. “You’ve done good. Both of you,” Soundwave rumbles and Rumble’s mouth falls open, horrified that he’s about to lose it because that’s all he’s wanted for so long.

Found these on Etsy to add to my bag

[berracids]

I’ve seen a lot of smitten miniformer hound it’s making me hold my heart and cry from how adorable he is, and I love how collectively people are sure that hound would be down for his human like an adorable lovesick fool. Especially if the miniformers are the size of blokees

Rodimus would also be a smitten fool, asking all day to be picked up by you and held, UGHHH, he wouldn’t even want to return to his normal size ever, unless by a threat from magnus, I love that orange cat coded mech sm, he would dedicate his day to spend it with you, even the most boring tasks that you do that leaves him to roll his optics at that, also dare I say, he will ask, beg, and roll on the ground to go out with you, either being placed in your pocket or your bag he doesn’t mind as long as he gets to see things from up close and not having to hurt his neck wires from looking down too much, after all if something is tool yall for him to see he can always ask you to raise him up!

Also who else would work with that?, the cassette twins, for the first time in forever frenzy and rumble wouldn’t mind being on the smaller side if it meant being entangled to you, with each mech idling on your shoulder and talking your ears off as each of them would play with a strand of hair with possibly tangling it or having a few locks caught in between their platings making you spend the after noon trying not to go bald from having pieces of hair stuck in metal, but could you bring your heart to put them two down?, no.

[tom-foolery-incorporated]

I'm just thinking about your shockwave and soundwave x reader fics (their amazing btw) and I can't stop thinking about soundwave mentioning how frenzy and rumble are small enough to spike and reader and it got me thinking about shockwave and soundwave just watching as the two tag team the reader together 😭

I’m deviously rubbing my hands together in a dastardly, bastardly way >:3c

I’ve had this exact idea on my mind but I didn’t know how to go about it. Now, Anon, you have given me permission to release the horny flood gates

NSFW MDNI!!

Frenzy, Rumble, Soundwave, and Shockwave x Reader, AFAB gender neutral reader, racially ambiguous, sub reader, pet play, exhibitionism, fingering, humiliation, vaginal penetration, oral

“You really think we can fit in there, boss?” Frenzy spoke up as he spread your labia open.

You were leaned back up against Rumble with your ankles held firm in his servos and your legs spread wide open for Frenzy’s curious poking and prodding.

“Affirmative,” Soundwave replied enjoying how his cassettes toyed with you.

“I have trained them to take objects much larger in their valve,” Shockwave spoke up. “You should have no trouble penetrating them.”

“Who invited the lab rat?” Frenzy snapped back as he hovered over you possessively. “I thought we were getting a reward not being punished.”

“Desist,” Soundwave ordered. “Shockwave has chosen to share his pet. Do not make him regret his decision.”

“Yeah, Frenzy,” Rumble piped in. “Better behave or you won’t get to spike ‘em down first!”

“Shut up,” Frenzy mumbled trying to refocus his attention on your pussy.

His digits spread open your labia trying to make sense of your fleshy genitalia in comparison to a valve. He seemed to understand the basics as he moved his fingers up your slick slit to rub at your clit.

You moaned arching your hips into his touch.

“Needy little thing,” Frenzy smirked. “How’s a shut in like ol’ Shockwave ever get a cute thing like you all to himself?”

Frenzy continued rubbing your clit in fast circles enjoying how you squirmed in Rumble’s iron grip. “You’re already fuckin’ soaked!” Frenzy laughed moving his digits away from your clit to plunge into your hole. The wet squelching noise you produced when he rapidly fucked his fingers in and out of your pussy only further proved his point.

Rumble couldn’t help but laugh at how you seemed to squirm in embarrassment. “Look at ‘em,” Rumble teased pulling your legs to your chest. “They’re actin’ like they’ve never had their valve played with!”

You tilted your head back and away from the wet noises your body produced. Having sex with Shockwave was one thing, Soundwave joining in was another but being watched by the two of them while Soundwave’s cassettes fucked you made you feel suddenly shy.

“I thought you said you socialized them all properly, Shockwave?” Rumble asked with a smug grin.

“They have indeed been properly socialized,” Shockwave confirmed. “However it seems they are extra bashful in this situation.”

You cracked out a moan when Frenzy’s metal fingers massaged your G-Spot with fervor.

“That’s funny because their valve is clampin’ down on my servo like no one’s business,” Frenzy said trying not to gawk at how your pussy slobbered on his fingers. “They might be actin’ all shy but this valve doesn’t lie.”

“Shockwave!” You moaned out in a whimper.

“I am not the one currently pleasuring you, pet,” Shockwave scolded. “Thank Rumble and Frenzy for your current state.”

“Thank you!” You moaned out.

“That’s better,” Frenzy smirked. “Keep soundin’ like that and ol’ Frenzy will take you where you wanna go.”

You could feel the intense heat from Rumble’s modesty plate on the back of your neck. You squirmed trying to keep the scalding heat from burning your skin but also in frustration at how every mech in the room right now had their spikes frustratingly tucked away.

“Please!” You cried feeling Frenzy pick up the pace and curl his fingers inside of you.

“Yeah? You want to overload on just my digits?” Frenzy huffed his gaze fixated entirely on where your pussy welcomed the middle and ring fingers of his servo into your warmth.

“Please! I want your spike!” You cried trying not to kick your legs in frustration.

“Holy shit,” Rumble laughed in response to your begging. “They really are a desperate little spike sleeve like you said, Boss.”

“They are able to service spikes with their intake,” Soundwave pointed out.

“No way,” Rumble said excitedly. “We can totally spear them all the way through on our spikes!”

Frenzy chuckled at his fellow cassette bot’s recommendation. “Well flip ‘em over!” Frenzy said pulling his fingers from your needy hole. You whined in response to being empty once again.

Rumble wasted no time in dropping your legs so he could grab your hips and flip you over so you were on your hands and knees. When the world stopped spinning and you found your balance on all fours you were finally greeted with your prize.

Blue with red biolights and incredibly thick. Rumble’s spike stood proudly in front of your face with globs of transfluid leaking from the tip.

Your mouth watered at the sight. You practically pounced on the mech grabbing his spike with one hand and steadying yourself on the other. Rumble let out a deliciously low groan in response to your soft hand gripping his needy cock.

“Actin’ like ol’ Shockwave here never spikes you down,” Rumble laughed. You panted in excitement giving his spike a couple tugs before leaning forward and licking the tip.

“The human libido is truly remarkable,” Shockwave noted proudly.

Rumble sputtered for a second at the warm contact of your tongue and he had hardly any time to recover before you popped the tip into your mouth with a moan.

“Primus!”

“Makes me wonder how good this little valve is gonna be,” Frenzy smirked while spreading your vulva with his thumb.

You ran your tongue around Rumble’s tip savoring the acidic taste of his transfluid. You pushed your mouth down further along the hot metal of his spike giving him a firm suck to test how he felt in your mouth.

Blue servos grabbed onto your head as the cassette bot leaned over and moaned out your name.

“Spike servicing satisfactory?” There was a hint of amusement to Soundwave’s voice.

“They’re fraggin’ amazing, Boss,” Rumble whimpered giving your mouth shaky thrusts.

You yelped lurching forward and gagging around Rumble’s spike in the process. Frenzy laughed wiping the spit from his intake after slinging his intake lubricant at your presented pussy.

“Gotta make sure you’re plenty wet,” Frenzy teased giving your ass a firm slap.

Both cassettes watched in awe at how your cheek fat rippled.

“Do that again,” Rumble groaned while thrusting into your mouth.

Frenzy gave you another stinging slap making you whine around the spike in your mouth.

“Frag,” Rumble moaned holding both his servos to the back of your head. “Think they can take a beating?”

“Humans can only endure so much impact play from a Cybertronian before needing medical attention,” Shockwave intervened. The last thing he needed was for the cassettes to get carried away and end up with you breaking something.

Frenzy delivered a delicious clap to your hip as his spike slid through your folds. “How much, Doc?” He asked rubbing where he had slapped you. “Or should we test that out for ourselves.”

Shockwave thought for a minute. While he was curious about how much your body could truly handle before needing to be put into some form of critical care, he was not up to speed on his human biology enough to care for you. Yet the temptation of scientific discovery left a tingling at the back of his processor.

“They know their limits,” Shockwave reassured. “But you will need to be mindful of their fragility.”

Frenzy seemed a bit frustrated at this but nodded not wanting a new toy like you to be taken away. Not when you made such cute gagging noises around Rumble’s spike. Next time they have their way with you they’re gonna need to switch spots.

“Gonna fuck this little valve,” Frunzy growled pressing the tip of his spike against your pulsing hole. “Gonna rearrange whatever goo you have inside your fleshy frame.”

You pushed your hips back trying to spear yourself on his cock. Frenzy was delighted by this and decided to shove his entire spike within you in one thrust. Your whole body shivered adjusting to his girth. You couldn’t tell if the choking noise you made was in response to Frenzy abusing your hole or Rumble shoving his spike down your throat.

"You're really gettin' off on this, huh boss?" through your blurred vision you could see Rumble's lip plates moving as he spoke. You barely registered what the cassette bot was saying until another firm smack to your bottom jolted you out of your haze.

"Come on and strike a pose, fleshie," Frenzy teased.

Rumble forcefully grabbed your head making you turn with his spike still in your mouth so you could see the red blinking light on the side of Soundwave's helm.

He was recording you.

He was recording you being absolutely ruined by his cassette bots.

You shuddered and clamped down on Frenzy's spike earning a shaky moan from him. You shakily held up a peace sign and tried to smile while Rumble fucked your mouth. Drool spilled down from the corners of your lips and was now made a light pink color thanks to the transfluid that leaked out of Rumble's cock.

"I assume you will be sharing your recordings with me later, Soundwave?" Shockwave asked freeing his spike from behind his modesty plate.

"Affirmative," Soundwave replied. Even in his even robotic voice you could sense some slight excitement in his words. There was a shakiness to his voice that affirmed his delight in the sight before him.

Shockwave gave his spike a firm stroke watching how the cassettes frantically fucked their spikes into you. You were such a good and well behaved pet to humor him like this. Your pretty holes so well trained to take spike and greedily swallow up any transfluid left behind. He could only watch proudly as he pleasured himself to your soft body being defiled by Frenzy and Rumble. The wet, juicy noises you made as your pussy welcomed Frenzy and you swallowed Rumble’s spike were an homage to how Shockwave had corrupted you. His shy, sweet human turned into a fuck toy for mechs twice their size. Nothing but a wet hole for their lover and his associates to fuck.

You pushed up your rear and arched your back for the viewing pleasure of your spectators and whoever else would view Soundwave’s recording. Frenzy greatly appreciated this as he took handfuls of your cheeks and squeezed plush flesh there. You took a more submissive pose with both your hands planted below you and your head angles to better take Rumble’s spike down your throat.

“C-can we overload inside ‘em?” Rumble moaned feeling your tongue dancing along the underside of his metal cock.

“Yeah,” Frenzy said in agreement. “I wanna see this human valve exploding with transfluid.”

“You have my permission to overload within my pet,” Shockwave replied.

With that Frenzy wrapped his arms around your middle and pistoned his spike into you like your pussy was the only thing keeping his spark going. The harsh slap of flesh against metal made your rump sting yet you were able to ignore your pain as every inch of Frenzy slid along your walls and wailed against your most sensitive spots.

You squeezed your eyes shut and moaned a muffled sound around Rumble’s spike. The blue cassette bot grabbed your hair and pushed your nose against the metal plate of his pelvis. Thick globs of pink transfluid rushed into your mouth and down your throat. You choked and gagged trying to swallow around the girthy metal intrusion that twitched in your mouth while trying not to drown in Rumble’s release. Streams of spit and transfluid flowed from the corners of your mouth and puddled between your hands.

“You were keepin’ this from us, Boss?” Rumble asked breathlessly as he shivered through his orgasm.

Soundwave stood up and moved over to where you three were. He crouched down beside you trying to record how his cassette’s overload leaked from your mouth and how your eyes rolled back in pleasure.

“Release their intake,” Soundwave ordered. “Slowly.”

Rumble pulled on your hair as he slowly slipped his spike from your mouth. You happily ran your tongue along his sensitive metalic phallus the entire way.

“Fuckin’ greedy lil’ thing,” Rumble groaned in response.

You coughed a little bit pushing some transfluid out of your throat once Rumble fully pulled his spike out of your mouth. Soundwave was sure to capture how your drool mixed with Rumble’s transfluid.

Now with your mouth empty your moans flowed freely into the room. You begged for more, wailed and cried for Frenzy to tear you in two with his spike. Your soft body was pinched against his metal plating as he jackrabbited his spike into you. With a final harsh push he released his transfluid deep inside you. You could feel the tip of his spike kissing your womb as his release flooded your cunt and dripped around where he spiked you.

Frenzy shivered as he gripped onto you further in a possessive hold. You were possibly the best entertainment he’s had since being on this stupid rock of a planet.

Soundwave turned his attention to his other cassette making sure to record where Frenzy’s spike slipped out of your used hole. A sloppy mixture of your own arousal and Frenzy’s transfluid dripped out of your pussy and onto the space between your knees in globs. Soundwave recorded how your cunt clenched around nothing and how your ass pulsed.

“Frag,” Frenzy groaned giving you a sharp slap to your ass. “Damn human hasn’t even overloaded yet!”

“What?!” Rumble called grabbing your hair so you’d look him in his optics. “After all that you’re still not wrung dry?!”

You were about to respond but gasped when you felt Soundwave’s digits pushing Frenzy’s overload back into you.

“We will take it from here,” you turned your head to Shockwave had stood up from the berth.

“Frenzy and Rumble: do not need to stay if maintenance is needed.”

“No! I’m stayin’. I wanna another turn with this spike sleeve,” Rumble smiled rubbing his spike against your face.

You shivered knowing that you’d be used by the four mechs before you for the next recharge cycle.

[minzart]

Beggars can't be choosers (3)

Ao3 - Prev - Next

Decepticons & Reader(GN), Rumble & Reader(GN), Frenzy & Reader(GN)

You find an "automatic" tank busted in the middle of the night, and as the good millitar Mechanic that you are, you fix it.

Or, the Decepticons don't have a trained doctor(yet), and you just volunteered as a substitute by their leaders' logic and standards

Next time you wake up, you are trembling and on a corner, hugging tightly your backpack and curious electronic voices chatting amongst each other very close to you

"Are they dead?"

"Do I look like a human doctor to you?"

"What if we pick it up?"

"Ohhh lets play toss the human, that would wake the-"

You wave your arm around, still sleepy and dying of hunger, but anything to keep you alive "no, no, let's not play toss the human. How about feed the human? That sounds nice to me..."

Stretching and hearing bones snapping you finally take a good look around. To your surprise, you are greeted with the tiniest Cybertronians you have seen thus far

"Frag, did you hear that?!" A black and red transformer screams and hides behind a lavender one, both still towering over you, but at least they just looked like abnormally tall for human height and not... building levels of tall

"Oh, so it is awake, morning sun shine" the purple mech waves at you, in his arms what looked like two pistons shine, one of them stuck out "I require your assistance"

"Hm..." You get up "alright just... give me a minute... sit around..." you look at the massive place, and points to were Thundercracker had last transfomed for his checkin yesterday "there, I'll go by just one second"

"Oh wow, you suck at this" the purple one says snickering at you

"Don't you guys need to eat to function? Energon, right?" You snap at him, picking the remains of your pack of proceced potatoes "well guess what? Humans do too, now sit down, be a good bot and wait"

When your slow brain finally registered, you had just snaped at two giant robots with deadly weapons. You almost broke your neck, looking directly at them waiting for a reaction. Surprisingly, both just sat there, looking at you and... wait for you to finish eating

You quickly and ankwardly do, and finally, go to meet them, you give a wave "well, hello... how... may I help you both"

The lavender one snaps first of whatever though he was having and points at his right arm, the one with a piston stuck out "it's stuck, fix it"

You hum, getting closer, the black one gets out of the way and sits the other side, visor never leaving you, now taking a better look, both bots looked practically identical, you wonder of they are twins... wich lead to you wondering how does reproduction work for Cybertronians, wich you promptly goes back to focus on your work, least you wonder too much

"Can you transform? I have better rattings in fixing problems on alt-modes"

"Ugh do I need to?" He grimaces " It feels unconfortable when transformed"

"Let me see what I can do for now then" you nod and start inspecting the arm and it's crevices "but be warned, until I have a proper Cybertronian anatomy book I won't be of much use to you if you can't change"

"Whatever..." the bot pouts and looks at the other

"They are nicer than Shockwave" you hear they whispering as you inspect the crevice between the pistons, and find the culprit of the bots' problem

"Shhhh, they haven't even done anything yet" you hear a slap, and your patient move

"Still, better free than trapped on the table"

"Bah stop being such a weenie... did Soundwave COMM yet?"

"Negative, your absense has not been noticed yet"

"Thank Primus for that"

"Whats your name?" You ask, breaking the conversation flow of the bots, wich makes your patient jump with enough force to help you take the small metal slit out, just as you hopped it would

The two look at you like they finaly noticed you, you continue to work, inspecting each cranny to have a good idea if there were any more stuck parts, besides dirt and dents you haven't found any again

"I'm Frenzy" the black and red one answers, wich prompted the lavender one to smack him on the helm

"Idiot! We are not even supposed to be here! Soundwave will kill us if he finds out!"

"And this is Rumble-"

The purple and lavender mech jumps his right hand up, piston sliding into place "why you-!"

"My arm!"

"Unstuck" you agree at the beaming mech "it was just a metal slit"

"And you just took it out so easily?! No cirurgy or anything?!"

You looked at them, then at the crevices of his pistons, and then at your hands "small... hands?"

"That's so cool!"

"You said something about Energon, right?" Frenzy beams at you "what do humans consume?"

"Oh..." You stare at the bot, stuned that they were actualy paying attention to what you said before "many things... but most need fire and water to actually be... comsumed properly by a human"

"Cool, cool, cool... where do you find that stuff? You guys have bars or something like that?"

"Yes... but" alright, weird alien race knows what a bar is... can they get drunk? "Comum consumable itens, food, we find more in markets, convenience stores, grocery stores, usually crawling with humans"

"You are not ditching me on dutty to go raid a market alone" Rumble grumbles

"I wasn't going!"

"Yes, you were!"

"..." You look at both bots arguing with each other, and try to think how to gently suggest that maybe you can tag along or if there's a way to talk with Megatron about-

"Pit-" Frenzy stops

"Oh hey, how convenient, we-" Frenzy slaps Rumbles helm while holding the side of his own head

"On it, boss!" As he releases his helm sides, he screams at Rumble "are you stupid?! He doesn't know we are here! Do you want to blow our cover?!"

"Bet you he does..."

"If he did he would have come and killed the human after yesterdays warning" you swing from a feet to the other anxiously to the side, hopping whoever they are talking about does not in fact know they are here then

"Anyways, human!" Rumble completely ignores Frenzy rambling "the big guy wants to see you!"

...........................

Megatrons' office was, like everything in this godforsaken base, big, enormous, towering over you and your two new companions, however the warlord made sure to greet you at the door and as Rumble and Frenzy demonstrate an absurd capability of jump height, he gently shows you his palm waiting for you to get in

You do, because who are you to say no to a giant mech, the Cybertronian tyrant carries you to his table, letting you out besides the twins as he takes his seat in front of you, your two companions snikers to each other when you stumbled out of the warlords hand

"It has come to my attention" Megatron speaks "that we may not be suitable to host a human"

No shit, you think, but holds your tongue, body rigid and ready for report as it was instigated in you by your superiors "hence after pondering, I came to the solution, you"

His red eyes lock with yours "are to have a trip to the nearest human store and grab whatever you may need for your survival, however, you are never to leave this facility without permission or company, am I clear?"

No, he isn't, because how the fuck is someone to accompany you if they are all big war vehicles, what are you even supposed to buy, how would you even get there and back in time, if you would call for help would anyone even belive you?

But that's not the right answer to him nor the answer that would probably keep you alive, so, as you have done all your life you hold still, and answers politely and professionally "yes, lord Megatron,may I know who would be acompaning me sir?"

"I voluntear!" Frenzy imediatly chirps up, earning a growl from Rumble

"I was going to say that!"

"You already go to missions on a monthly basis! Let me be the one to get out once in a while"

Megatron smiles, pleased with your answer and the cassettes eagerness "Frenzy has my permission"

"Yes!" "Nooo!"

"Thundercracker will be your ride, I have already informed him of this, Frenzy..."

The black mech perks up "Bring the human to the main hangar, you are to meet there"

"Yes, sir!"

"Good, dismissed-"

"A word, lord Megatron" you dare to speak, it was now or never, he looks annoyed at you, pleasantly momentary forgoten

"Speak briefly, I have duties to attend"

"There will be need of new parts for some concerts" you look him up and down, hoping he understands what you are referring to "spare parts, to better function that merely fixes can not in long term maintain good health to my patients"

"That's all?" You glup

"Yes sir"

"Dismissed, your concerns are noted" and with that, Frenzy picks you up and jumps out of the warlords table, you yelp in surprise

"You could have done that?!"

"Oh sush you liked being carried like a little mouseturn"

"What-" the black Cybertronian pulls you along and out of the office

"Come on I haven't seen the sun in cyclesss"

.........................

"How?!" You screech at the little black and red caccette in your hands "how the fuck can you get so fucking small?'"

"Neat right ehehe" you hear and feel the vibrations in your hands as Frenzy answers "now there won't be any problems on the way in or out"

"What the fuck" you inspect him from all sides

"Carefull human, I am very fragile"

"You could stomp me to death in your other form"

"Details"

"Is every... Minicon, right? Is every Minicon a little caccette then?" You ask, looking around yourself to see what you could use to carry the little guy in your hands

"Nah, just some after we bond with a certain tipe of transformer"

"What? You need a caccette player to become a caccette?"

"... yeah"

".... what the fuck" as you look around you finally notice the hagar, an open place, still in need of walls and doors, right by the missing wall was the blue mech, you wave at him "morning Thundercracker!"

"DON'T WAVE ME AROUND!" you imediatly stops and feel the little caccette in your hands grow in size, in a panic you toss him aside and in mid air Frenzy de-transforms and grows in size

He looks at you annoyed but is immediately distracted by your panicked expression, he snickers "serves you right"

"Evening" the blue flier answers, great, you overslept, amazing. Taking a closer look you see his optics are brighter than yesterday, his posture more alert, someone hadn't slept well the last time you had met then, good to see him better now, you smile "shall we?"

"Do you even know where we are going?" You ask

"To the nearest florest to a human city, from there it's on you, Frenzy is to call me once you are ready to come back" oh great, you would have to walk from miles

"Don't you guys have... like, a car transformer or something?"

"Flight is superior" Thundercracker immediately answers "and no, we do not, those are still in Cybertron"

"Got it... I can't hope to have my bike back can I?" You mumble

"You know how to tame a bike?!" Frenzy looks at you

"Inanimated object" you correct his assumption, at least what you think that he was referring to "I know how to drive a bike, not tame it"

"Oh yeah right" the caccette transforms again and you reflexively catch him "I'm ready! Lets go!"

You sigh amused, and put him in one of the bottle pokets of your backpack "can you see from there?"

"Yup!" You nod at his response

.......................

The flight went without major inssues, it was not the first time you had to momentarily be on a jet, you luckly didn't pass out, but you did scramble out the second you could and puked in the nearest corner of the forest you found

Thundercracker found the act curious while Frenzy was laughing at you from having a weak complex or whatever that means to him

The walk to a nearest market? Tiresome, miles and miles of only walking and talking with the transformed caccette, at least you learned so things, his job was the main guard of the fortress, while Rumble was more of a field agent once the constructions were finished

There were grounders, flyers, minicons, predacons, and many more subcategories for transformers, when asked about what made seekers diferent from flyers Frenzy didn't knew how to answer properly and only gave you a vague "they are faster" answer, you accepted it for now, you did have at least one seeker to talk to about this another time... hopefully

Once at your destination, you grabbed all junk food you could and many, many water bottles, and lady luck must have finally liked you to let a small portable manual stove on sale, money was not an inssue for you now, rent be damned, you are in half a custody of giant ass robots if you survived this you were already done for life

It was almost night when you finally decided to go back to the meeting point, arms sore from carring so much stuff, and Frenzy refused to transform and help out

"This would be faster if someone were to help me" You jab at the caccette, not stopping once, powering trough the steps

The caccette doesn't answer, and that makes you stop "Frenzy?"

The night breeze pass trough you, once again, in the middle of nowhere, but now not at all alone, your ears pick up the soft huming coming from the small bot, and you let a amused grin show, he has fallen asleep

You keep your pace, now quiet, admiring the tundra view, cars pass once in a while in the highway, lucky not one stops to help, you see a red truck approaching, massive in size, a beauty to behold even if it clearly had seen better days and in dire need of a paint job, you can't help but stare

As it comes, you make eye contact with someone inside, a young man, far younger than you, he notices and waves, you smile tiredly at him, and the truck passes

Alone again you... hear it coming back, oh fuck, you stop in your tracks and look at the parked red and blue truck, from the passage seat the boy opens his door "Want a ride?! It's pretty late for groceries!"

You hope Frenzy won't just pop out and kill this guy just because he talked to you "thank you, but there's no need!"

You lie, ignoring how you feel your legs tremble "my friend is just over there, and we just needed some gasoline to keep going! Thanks for the offer tho"

"Oh..." the brow haired boy looks embarrassed "I see... do you want help getting there anyways?"

"Nope! bye!" You quick your steps and runs away from the stranger, hoping to whoever was out there that he stops persisting

He did, and when you finally enter the meeting forest, Frenzy transforms, he look around worried, always checking back

"Something wrong?" You ask

"No! Not at all!" The caccette answers high pitched "where is Thundercracker when you need him anyways right?! Haha"

You hear in the distance a roar, coming ever closer and when stopping, oh... that's why he is called Thundercracker .Slowly, the seeker comes to the ground away from the night sky, he keeps quiet as his ladder descends

"Did something happen?" You ask Frenzy

"Kinda..." the black casserte answers, tension never leaving him as he continues to look around

You don't waste time to embark on your blue jet, as you do, you notice, he has burns around himself... something happened to the base

[pinkanonwrites]

The concept of Rumble or Frenzy finding themselves with a thing for humans is so fuckin good to me. They FINALLY are bigger than someone, and what's the first thing they wanna do?? Get their spikes wet of course! Lmao

They are so revved up to finally be the bigger partner for a change, though oftentimes they're a little rougher than intended so you're probably going to end up with some bruising. I think Rumble is a teeny bit more careful than his brother, but by such a slim margin you wouldn't realize unless you knew them both really well.

But they're both so handsy, so eager, especially when you're sandwiched between the two of them. Then they're both wrestling for your attention, fighting over who gets to spike your mouth and who gets your cunt; who can get you to yell their designation the loudest, who can get you to cum harder?

[bnsni]

HEyooo, Soundwave requestor here again. This time to actually give ya the request!

Righty so, as said before, this request is a sequel to the fem!bot squid!s/o ficlet. So, for this I've got a couple of scenarios in mind, but I'll some of those for future requests!

Anyhow, how about Soundwave introducing S/O to his casettes, how they interact with her, what they think of her, etc.

SOUNDWAVE. FEM.BOT.SQUID. S/O

|[part one ]|

YOU peered over your servos, curling the digits around the glass rim of the mini-aquarium.It was a nine feet tall container, accommodating your height, as well as your size, allowing you to swim around freely.

“Why's she lookin' at me weird."

Soundwave had conjured it up swiftly within a matter of days. You remembered a kind of warmth pulsed in your spark, relief and adoration mottled into one, when he told you that.

As, after all, following initial meeting with the decepticon, you doubted the notion of him ever coming back. It wasn't rocket science. Every being in close proximity of your own, whether it was intentional or not, is guaranteed too maim themselves injured or dead.

If you were to prevent that, suppressing your field proves to be another problem. Holding it taut for for so long only reels you nauseous, spinal strut shuddering with an intensity more vehement than any lacerating wound would pulse.

But, at the sight of him returning with another mech (an intimidating one, if you had to add ) the prospect doesn't seem all that delusional. Not when he had gently lifted you up from the waters, a servo on your tail, and the other on your back, sauntering towards a make-shift carrier not too far from the shore.

"We have to ensure her outer platings are constantly moisturized." Shockwave, you remembered his name, droned off to your new companion. "Her build is naturally divergent from our own. Years of decade long exposure to water, maybe even more, had caused the outer epidermis to conform to the surroundings. If not handled with care, the oxygen will rust the platings and the ramifications will be severe."

Soundwave had left swiftly with his scientist after depositing you in the container, assuring that it won't be long before he comes back. You're now left in the company of two eccentric little bots. Little bots that dawdled in front of the aquarium, unbothered.

"I'm tellin' ya, she's lookin' at me weird."

You blink tentatively. They were so small. Around the height of a human if you had to guess, if not — just a little taller.

"Oi! Rumble,” You dipped at the sound of a smack.

The other (black red, you note) groaned, clutching his helm. “Hey, hey! Watch the head! Watch the head! I'm not fussin' knockout for a cracked helm after getting my servo fixed! You know how he is eith second appointments.”

Blue, meanwhile, fisted his hips and narrowed his optics. "Then, watch that mouth if you don’t wanna have big red after ya' spark.”

“Can’t help it if she looks weird, fussbrain.”

“And you’re gonna be guts deep in a pit ‘cause a’that? I'll gaurantee ya' a clock in the head if bossman hears."

You settled your chin on the glass, observing them prattle away. Mini-figures, moving. Gestures and expressions, animated.

"Oi, looks are subjective, alright? You find ‘er normal. I find ‘er abnormal. I’m honest about it. I’m an honest mech.” Rumbles puts a servo on his chest. “At least, I ain’t no screamer.”

"You just might be with how much slag's spooling out of that intake!”

"Ugh. Just look at the tails!"

Blue vents, complies with a swivel , and inspects you, squinting of his optics. He snorts.

Frenzy ignores his biting tone and continues his examination. “Too lifey to be tails. What tail is on someone's shoulder, eh? I see 'em moving, too. Oi! You. You’re pulling your field back, you scared or something?”

"I don't think they're tails, Rumble.”

“What’s it then, her brain?”

"....Not at all.” You say demurely. But your tendrils stiffen when their own fields eases over. As if they’re experimenting.

Rumble cocks a brow, "Oh, good. She speaks."

"Course she does, idiot. What she gonna do, sing?"

“You know what? A performance ain’t too bad right now to be honest.”

"Rumble, Frenzy : mind your manners."

"Oh, slag. Right. Sorry about that.”

They both stiffened, swivelling around in time to meet the gaze of their, you weren't so sure how to describe their relationship, sire? Towering over the two.

“Your field.” He warns.

You visibly loosened when the pressure of their field retracted. Frenzy blinks at the noticeable change while Rumble says nothing.

“I’d like ta’ see you try, fussbrain.”

“‘pologies bossman." He starts. "We're, uh, a little curious."

“Too curious.” Frenzy mutters, earning a hard kick to his shin. He grunts and they both swivel, face to face, fists locked and loaded for a brawl.

“Oh, I oughta give that servo a nice beating until big red comes around and scoops ‘em up like broken egg shells. Ya hear?”

Soundwave strides past the two bickering mini-cons and straight towards the container. Your tendrils relax a the sight of him approaching. No longer bristling, you teeter close to the glass wall. He puts a servo on the surface and you do, as well, grasping the pulse of warmth behind the glass.

You give him a small smile and somewhere behind his visors you notice a crinkle of his optics.

“Rumble, Frenzy.” He swiveled around and gave out your designation. “Introduce yourself.”

“This one there. That bugger is Rumble.” Frenzy points, “And I’m frenzy. I woulda shake ya’ servos but missy is nine feet off the ground and i’m seven feet short.”

“It’s alright. No need for that.” You said.

“She’ll be staying with us for a while. I’m expecting her welcome is to be warmly embraced.”

Rumble greets you with a careless wave of his servo. “Oh, she’ll be fine with us. No worries, there. We’ll keep ‘er good company as long as she doesn’t piss off Ravage and get ‘er tail stuck in a kitty’s claw. Ain’t that right, squid?”

That was….highly specific. Ravage?They seem quite the charmer. Let’s hope you won’t encounter that problem anytime soon. Pissing off Ravage and the like. You gave them a sheepish smile and nod. “Thank you for, ah, accepting me. I know this isn’t easy to see a new face around.”

“Squid.” Frenzy says blandly.

Soundwave meets your gaze. “She’s a neutral.”

Rumble shrugs. “Didn’t say it was hard.”

“Uh, how long is a while?” Frenzy looks up. “Won’t Megatron have a thing or two to say about ‘er buddies?”

“But—" Rumble begins.

“A nuetral.” He says more firmly. “That’s all there is to her faction. And you’re going to refer it that way, am I clear?”

The mini con glanced to each other for a moment. To you, then to Soundwave. Frenzy shrugs, as though he couldn’t care less. mumbling a simple “A’ight.” While Rumble grins, gleaming with chesire smugness.“If you say so, boss.”

[ctghost]

YANDERE

YANDERE SOUNDWAVE

AND YANDERE CASSETTES

YOURE COOKING GOOD TONIGHT POOK

🍴🍽🍴🍽

Had to re read again bc first time was literally when i just woke up and i go "OMG ‼️‼️", read it and then go back to sleep again. lmao

okay now i'm curious how reader even has a goggles.. would be funny if they somehow collect some scraps wherever they were held and made it, rough and low quality but hey it still protects the eye so that counts

And Dont worry pook!! The way you described the chase scene was great already!! I literally smiled when reader had to hop off the flying cassettes mid-air LOL And the reader has a chance interacting with Thundercracker :'O??

"Hi, TC," you say casually, although the winds make it hard to hear you.

There's a pause before he replies. "Soundwave will never let you go."

Like damn i know TC thanks, can't help but feel he does feel some bit of sympathy for the human..

Yandere!Soundwave x GN!Human!Reader x Yandere!Cassettes

summary; the casettes hunt you until their boss gets what he wants. [also 'cause they're equally as obsessed with you hehe]

a/n; welcome to a sad first attempt of a chase scene OH MAN I AM CHALLENGED!!! i read it too much 🫩 btw this is NOT realistic lawddd forget about physics

— 📼

You are going to fucking piss your pants.

Soundwave isn't here — you took your chance. By the Gods, you actually let yourself believe the Cassettes would leave you the hell alone. You thought they'd understand; you thought they were different. In fact, at some point, you foolishly hoped they'd help you escape...

Look where that assumption got you. Now you're being hunted down inside the Nemesis. Who would have guessed who they'd stay loyal to! You're a fragging idiot!

Heart beating miles per second. Sweat beads dripping off your skin despite the harsh cold. Eyes frantically darting in every direction.

All of that, and it's deadly quiet.

Until it's not.

The low sound of metal scraping together violates your ears.

... You don't stick around to find out which Recordicon it is.

Run. Run. Desperate stomps of your feet speed across the floor, jumping and dodging over every little thing in your way. If there’s anything to thank on this godforsaken ship, it’s that the gaps and holes are big enough for you to squeeze through. Too small for even the smallest Cybertronians.

"Shit, shit, shit," you mutter over your breathless lips, legs burning in pain. The goggles around your neck bounce restlessly against your chest. You brace yourself for the very obvious dead end ahead.

Then—heavy metallic thuds echo in the upper section. The vent, you recognize. You falter and slow your pace.

Slugfest crashes down at the end of the hall, the impact shaking the floor and forcing you to stumble. You flinch at the thunderous roar tearing from his dentae.

"Human!" he growls, his head lowering in intimidation, tail carefully whipping left and right, "no leave!"

Slugfest? You've already dealt with Squawktalk, Glit, and hell, even Enemy. They're locked up somewhere... Did Soundwave eject everyone?

You turn around — crap.

"Heeey, Frenzy," you wheeze, a crooked smile forming as you raise your hands in surrender. The said bot is already cracking his servos as we speak. What's he doing that for?! Not like you can land a single punch on any of them! "Look. Can we please talk about this?"

Frenzy shrugs carelessly, taking a step forward. "Sweetspark, we could. Bet it'd be a whole lot easier if you stopped runnin', eh?"

"You know I—"

Abruptly, you and Frenzy stumble in a jump.

"Don't ignore Slugfest!" the cassette behind you shrieks as he pounds relentlessly, "Slugfest always forgotten! Human stay!"

"Argh! Slug! Ya gotta stop havin' tantrums in bad tim—!"

Before Frenzy can recover, you turn your heel and sprint straight toward Slugfest. It doesn't take another second for the former to catch up, however.

"I'm sorry, Slug," you cry out, trying to ignore Frenzy's rapid footsteps, "you're such a good mech! Soundwave thinks so too! Look, he's behind you right now!"

He pauses. As you predicted, he fell for it.

Slugfest deliberately turns around, a confused "Soundwave?" escaping him as he faces nothing but a wall.

You slide under the massive bot and just hope for the best.

"Soundwave not here!" Slugfest snarls, turning and slamming Frenzy into the ground.

"Get yer paws off of me! Where's the human?!" Frenzy yells, shoving Slugfest back as he desperately scans the room. Then his optics lock onto the open vent in the ceiling. "Good going, Slug. Now I've gotta fix up your mess."

Several sharp, irritated clanks echo as Frenzy hauls himself up toward the vent. Releasing an equally annoyed exvent, Slugfest turns around and runs in the opposite direction.

Your heart pounds against your ear. This sector is a bust — noted. You adjust your position cautiously across Slug's metal scales. Good thing the back part of his metal’s too thick for him to really feel you.

Once you reach the ship’s main passageway, you briskly slip off Slugfest’s bulk, his heavy thuds masking your soft footsteps.

You peek in two different directions. Both clear.

... Where in the absolute fuck are you supposed to go? In hindsight, you already know you're going to get caught—you've come up with like two lame excuses for this whole chase. Nice to know you're stupid enough to try escaping anyway. Heck, you even tried memorizing the path, but seeing it in real time under pressure easily made you lose it.

"There they are!"

Your head snaps to the right. Rumble and two other flying cassettes hot on his trail. Alright then. At least you've decided.

You bolt.

Adrenaline rushes through your limbs as you sprint down the hall. There’s no way they can get to you without hurting you, right? If there’s one thing you do know, it’s that they wouldn’t go so far as to severely injure you.

... Although. You've been wrong once; you can be wrong again.

"Leave me alone, damn it!" you yelp, staggering over your own frenzied feet. Pull it together!

"You know we can't do dat! Just come back! Don't wanna use rumbles on ya!"

For a moment, you want to smile. You probably would if you weren't so out of breath right now. Rumble's not allowed to use his pile drivers within the Nemesis.

Something tugs you under your arms.

Next thing you know, your feet are off the ground.

You turn your head upward, meeting Ratbat's yellow optics as he flutters his wings. "Ratbat. Let. Me go."

He only tilts his head. Damn it. He's just too cute to get mad at. Those big yellow eyes that look like they’ve seen a ghost, not in fear, but in genuine delight.

"Starscream's already ahead of us," a faint voice mutters in the distance, barely covered by the other cassettes' footsteps. You and Ratbat follow the sound of a door sliding open, chased by the scrambling of harsh winds.

Oh, shit. Wait a second. You rotate your hand and pat Ratbat's claws as best you can. "Okay, Ratbat. You got me. You can put me down now... sorry."

The gentle affection seems to have worked as he dives down and lets you go, offering a chirp. You smile, and it brightens him even more. "Good Rat. Uh, Bat."

And then you position Ratbat—he just let you do that for some reason—in front of you.

"Eukh!" Series of grunts burst from Rumble, Ratbat, and somehow Buzzsaw, who got caught in their trample by Rumble's flailing servo. Luckily enough, Frenzy finally gets his ass out of the vent, crashing ungracefully into their pile of thrashing, cursing heap of limbs.

By the time a single bot pushes themself up, you’re already gone.

Ravage shows up in your sight. As he trots, he intensely eyes the wide open entrance behind you. Wind whipping your clothes. Goggles protecting your eyes. How your feet are so close to the edge. Your chest heaving with frantic breaths. Watching as your lips curl.

You meet his optics.

With a smile, you throw yourself from the ship.

...

...

... What the frag. (You hate to admit it, but their way of cursing is unironically rubbing off on you now.)

Everything's jittering but you manage to slip perfectly into one of the gaps in Thundercracker's structure.

"What was that?" the blue jet says, voice loud around his form. You freeze your entire body.

"What was what?" replies Skywarp from behind him.

"Ugh. Must have a loose wire again. Remind me to remind Knockout."

"Remind me to remind you," Skywarp snickers as he drifts closer to Thundercracker. Closer to where you're hiding. "Hey. Isn't that—"

A loud metal collision. You watch under your goggles as Rumble lands butt-first on top of Skywarp, the jet slipping out of your view from the sudden change of movement. Apparently, that wasn't the only one—another sharp clang rings out, this time on the very jet you're riding.

Thundercracker's baffled voice goes off in the distance, but you're way too focused on the way your legs are dangling over the tall heights. You tighten your grip on his edges, trying to breathe correctly, don't panic—don't panic—

Giant metal fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling you up onto the jet’s surface. You stumble and steady your core, glancing up at Frenzy's expression. And in the most gentle way possible, his servos tighten around your skin.

He looks sad—much more than you thought he would.

"D'ya really want to leave us that much?"

You frown. Before you can muster an answer, a sudden jolt shakes Thundercracker. Your feet trip over themselves, but Frenzy has half the spark to balance you down—only to slip, break his grip, and fall off the jet with a shout.

"Frenzy!" you can't help but call out, sighing in relief when one of the flying cassettes hurries to save him.

Your heart leaps to your throat. Shit. Shit. What now?

You look up, eyes narrowing. The cassettes circle above you in the sky like a kettle of vultures waiting for their prey to die—or, in this case, get tired and give up.

"What do you glitches think you're doing?!" Skywarp shouts, frustrated, flying over to Laserbeak and purposefully bumping into him. Said bird lets out a shriek of annoyance. "Soundwave has to put you on a better leash—I swear—"

"Human."

You jolt from Thundercracker's voice.

"Hi, TC," you say casually, although the winds make it hard to hear you.

There's a pause before he replies. "Soundwave will never let you go."

...

A sigh escapes you. "...I know—HAHRK!"

You're taken again, your arms and legs dangling helplessly as Laserbeak grips you with his claws.

But it hurts. It hurts. It hurts. Oh scrap, it seriously does—his metal is pressing against your skin too much. Almost as if he's desperate. "Laserbeak, it hurts—!"

Like a command, he flips you over and lands you on his back. The pain subsides drastically—but it lingers. That shit's going to bruise. You grunt in pain, your chest heaving as you try to recover quickly.

You lean over the edge and glance down. Ratbat and Buzzsaw glide beneath you, following close to Laserbeak. You look deeper—you're so, so close to the ground, and you only noticed it now. You're hovering at the height of a rainforest’s shortest tree.

All you have to do is get to Buzzsaw. Once you do, you can always handle an injury or two if it gets you close enough to jump off fast—then hide in the thick cover of trees and brush.

Oh, no. You're having hope. Hope to finally escape them.

"Thanks, LB," you mutter at the same time you slip off him.

Ratbat squeals as you land on top of him, and even more when you hold onto him tightly. Yeah, not falling now, not when you're so close to freedom—

You leap onto Buzzsaw—

He screeches. Quickly, you peek over the edge, so close— just jump off—THERE!

Somewhere around your descent, you unceremoniously pull off your goggles. Not even sure if it was a good idea, but the thought of them digging into your eyes disturbed you enough to care.

...

Leaves and vines cushions your fall until—

You force your eyes open.

A red glow stands out in the sunlight. The familiar visor watches you, unwavering, as you sit on the palm of his hand. It's always been hard to figure out what he wants—what his expression truly is—and how angry he is. He hunches closer, his towering form restricted by the trees and tangled branches around you.

Soundwave only stares.

While Ravage perches on his shoulder, somehow more expressive than he is. Curious, furious.

You huff. Okay, fine, you give up. Your whole body hurts anyway.

—

so you see guys it's never a good idea to wing an escape plan when you're literally in the air

[vasito-de-leche]

I love, LOVE your characterization of the Saja Boys, and while I know you’ve only written complete dating hcs for Baby and Abs, I was hoping if it was okay if I could request something with the Saja Boys (separately) where it follows the prompt “you're about to argue but you're so pretty that his brain short circuits”? If you don’t want to write for all of them, then maybe you could do Baby and Abs (separately)?

;KPOP DEMON HUNTERS SAJA BOYS - Too Pretty

Saja Boys (separate) x Reader 2.5k words silly, fluff Being a demon's soft spot has its benefits. Who would've thought?

i'm so glad you like the way I write them!! this prompt sounded so fun, I just had to try my hand at it, thank you!

this also served as a way for me to slowly figure out how I'd like to characterize the other members o7 I tried to keep the relationship vague enough to be read as whatever people want, so hope that comes across well enough. also also, dont let these dramatic edgy idols fool you, all drabbles end up being silly and cute

JINU

"Are you even listening, Jinu?"

He is, of course. But he'd rather not, especially when you're getting worked up over nothing; so much for escaping an endless cycle of torture in the underworld, he now has to deal with a brand new mess, pacing behind him like a madman. By now, you've probably noticed the monotonous and non-committal answers he's been giving on loop.

"Uh-huh," Jinu's eyes never stray from the notebook in front of him, attempting to come up with a better verse for an upcoming song. And he knows he's fucked up when he hears you groan, stomping towards him.

"Okay, okay. Maybe I stopped listening abooout ... five or ten minutes ago, who's counting, but--"

Your hand comes into view, fast as lighting, and he can only look as you snatch the notebook away from him. Great, awesome.

There goes the perfect verse in his head. He remains frozen for a moment, the hand holding a pen still hovering over the now empty spot on his desk until your voice reaches him once more.

"If you're not going to listen, at least tell me so I don't waste my time talking to you."

Jinu slouches in his seat, raising both hands to cover his face, before sliding them upwards to slick back his hair in a feeble attempt at regaining his composure. You can't even see him from this angle, his back turned to you, but he still rolls his eyes.

You want to argue? Get it out of your system? Fine, he can give you the fight you want.

In one swift motion, his position changes; now he's straddling the chair, a powerplay he's come to master after bickering with his own band for so long, eyes closed as he prepares to deliver a devastating comeback to rile you up. But when he looks up, the golden glow in his eyes wavers--you're standing so close in front of him, looking down at his seated form with your arms crossed, as if daring him to speak.

He doesn't, and you tilt forwards, hair cascading over him so that the only thing he can focus is your face in this one-sided glaring contest.

Jinu has seen you at your best and your worst, but this is the first time he's found himself at the other end of your undivided attention and anger. It is as intimidating as it is alluring. What are you doing to him? Is this allowed? His neck feels hot, his face feels hot. The room feels like it's on fire, but not the same type of hellfire he's grown used to; it's a different sort of warmth, equal parts shame and pleasure as he takes in the sight. His lips part without him noticing, whispering ever so gently.

"Pretty ..."

"What was that?" Fuckfuckfuckfuck.

"Shitty. I said you look. Shitty. As in, you look like shit. Being angry isn't doing you any favors, you know? You should get some rest, okay. Byeee."

Without giving you any time to react, Jinu fumbles over his words, trips over your furniture and he stumbles out of your apartment in a rush, almost breaking into a sprint for the elevator. It's only when the doors close that he allows himself to breathe in and out, finally noticing the extra passenger inside with him. His bird companion chirps smugly, and Jinu groans into his palms.

"I don't want to talk about it."

ROMANCE

"I didn't mean it like that!"

Romance scoffs at your words, still refusing to leave his room. All the heart shaped decorations seem to mock him as he leans his full weight against the door, easily preventing you from entering no matter how hard you try to rattle the doorknob.

Both of you find yourself at the edge of an argument, and the decision to escalate things lies solely on his hands. He knows this because he can practically hear the affection in your words, even as you whine and tell him to get over himself to talk to you, face to face. That alone is enough to make Romance's chest tighten--no matter how many times he does this, this game of push and pull, you still make sure to chase after him time and time again.

Surely you must be reaching your breaking point; nobody is strong enough to withstand this much heartbreak. Maybe if he tries a little harder, you'll realize that there's nothing good in a future with him.

All he has to do is stay silent and wait for you to leave.

"Then what did you mean?" His voice is whiny, it always is. But you always insist that you love that about him, the way he feels so deeply about everything.

"You really want to argue about something like this?" You're right, you usually are--he's making things difficult when he's not even officially yours. "Well, I don't. So you can call me once you've cooled off."

And just like that, it's quiet; there's no more pressure pushing against him from the other side of the door, no more cutesy nicknames and attempts at coercing him out. Romance's heart drops, and he practically claws his way out, torn between cursing you out for proving him right and leaving, or begging you to take him back and sort everything out as if he hadn't been the one to start this. He's taken only a single step out of the threshold of his sanctuary when your smile greets him--you're leaning casually against the door frame, pretending to inspect your nails.

"So, are you done brooding all by yourself, handsome?"

That playful grin renders Romance speechless; the contrast of your casual attitude against his frenzied panic is impossible to ignore, he's gone through all five stages of grief in under a minute while your trust in him never wavered. Absence truly makes the heart grow fonder because there's a glint in your eyes that tugs at his heartstrings, wild strands of hair that he'd love to twirl in his fingers and kiss ever so gently. Romance knows that you'll let him if he asks for permission, and a knot forms in his throat, face flushed bright pink.

"No." It's all he manages to squeak out before closing the door once more.

"Rommie! Are you mad at me or not?!"

"I don't??? Know??? I need a moment! Just stay there!"

ABBY

"That's the last time I take you anywhere. You can't just pick a fight like that, Abby!" Abby sinks even deeper into the plush cushions of the couch as you continue to scold him, as if his sulking and his silence could single-handedly help him win this argument.

He's already found himself a comfortable spot, but you're still fussing about the living room, throwing your shoes to the side, sending your jacket flying onto the backrest of the sofa, pausing to drink and slamming the glass on the counter a little harder than necessary. Abby knows better than to try and stop you, so he stays put, waiting for his opening.

"What if anyone saw? Did you even think about that? The amount of trouble you'd be in?"

Those are all very good questions that he never bothered to consider; in fact, he still refuses to think about the consequences. There's no point in doing so when you managed to pull him away before he could do any damage to anyone, or to his own reputation as an idol.

"Like they'd even care," Abby huffs, trying to blow a strand of hair out of his eyes. "Just catching a glimpse of us outside is enough to make everyone turn a blind eye, it's almost too easy to work the crowd. One flex of these guns and any broken noses will be totally forgotten."

He makes an attempt to flex said guns, but he finds you looming over him from behind the couch, your grasp on his wrists as steady as death. There is a wild look in your expression, one he can't quite understand, but he finds it impossible to tear his eyes away from you. Getting to play the part of guard dog for you comes as easy as breathing, Abby can't get enough of the little tells that give you away, letting him know that you enjoy his antics--but it never crossed his mind that the tables could be reversed like this.

"Fine, let me put it this way! What if you got in trouble or worse, what if you got hurt? Ever thought of that one? Just because you're an all mighty demon doesn't mean you're--"

"You're hot when you're mad." He blurts out.

"I--What?"

A chance to rectify his mistake is presented to him, and he immediately pivots away from it when you blink your pretty eyes at him in confusion. "I said that you're hot when you're--"

"I heard you the first time, Abby. It's just--were you listening to what I was saying?" Okay, this is his chance to steer the conversation back on track. It's very easy, he just has to--

"If I say no, will you scold me some more?"

"Oh my God. Abby. Nevermind."

MYSTERY

Arguing with you is a rare occurrence.

But so is speaking to you, or engaging in any sort of conversation at all with anyone. This is one of the many perks that came with his role as the cool, mysterious and aloof member of the Saja Boys; anything he didn't feel like addressing could be easily swept under the rug and left ignored for centuries. This had been Mystery's modus operandi for years, and he wasn't planning on changing it any time soon.

You, on the other hand, were the opposite, filling the silence he often sought so desperately, until your voice became background noise in his life, a constant, confusing and somewhat comforting presence that simply followed him around.

Mystery still remembers the first time he deigned himself to reply, something off-handed that didn't matter at all, and yet you clung to his every word and went the extra mile to include him in your one-sided talks. It took a long time for the demon to get used to this, and an even longer time to acknowledge the fact that he enjoys the sound of your laughter, way better than the miserable voices crawling in the back of his mind.

Which is why the claustrophobic and oppressive silence lingering in the room irks him to no end. You're supposed to be talking, not playing hard to get or ignoring him over a stupid argument; the way you brush past him, barely acknowledging his existence as you go about your day is getting under his skin in ways he never knew were possible.

And then, for a fleeting second, you meet his gaze--this moment lasts for an eternity in his eyes, and he opens his mouth to speak, to seize the opportunity and break the ice, but before he can get a single word out, you turn around and begin to scroll through your phone. That's the last straw.

Mystery stands up and forces himself into your peripheral, hands firmly planted on the wall, trapping you in.

For the first time in forever, he wants to scream, to bark, to growl and give you a piece of his mind. But when he sees the way you awkwardly avoid his gaze, fiddling with your hands and standing at your tiptoes, Mystery relents and his frustration is replaced with something else; endearment. You're still wearing his merch, one of the very first shirts the Saja Boys released long ago with his name written on it, you're still attempting to hide from him despite knowing there's nowhere in the world you could go without him finding you.

Slowly, Mystery raises a hand towards you, enjoying your half-hearted attempt at shaking him off, pretending to bite the air near him.

And then he pinches your nose. "Cute."

After that, he leaves. You'll come around when you feel like it.

BABY

"You went too far this time, there was no need to get so personal back there."

"That's the entire point of dissing someone, duh. So, was it good? Did you like it?" Baby kicks his feet, hands cupping his cheeks to make himself look as innocent as possible. "I didn't know I could rhyme that many words with 'cunt' but it was soooo fun! Right, right?"

"Baby!"

Tsk. Guess it's the hard way today. That cute expression quickly turns into a scowl and he makes a bee-line for the fridge, if only to find something to drink and distract himself with.

He blows bubbles into the silly straw, sulking in the kitchen. "What? They got what they deserved. What kind of idiot would challenge me to a rap battle if they can't take the heat? Hellooooo, it's Baby Saja we're talking about."

"But it was a friendly thing, you turned it into a massacre for no reason."

"Heh," he knows he shouldn't, but he snickers to himself anyway. "Guess I did, huh? What, do you wanna have a go in their place?"

This is how Baby likes to play, to earn a reaction and entertain himself if only for a little--but you always know better than to play into his shenanigans. And you also know how to get a message through his thick skull, something that continues to astonish him to this day.

Baby continues to sip away on his drink as you busy yourself, fully believing himself to be the victor of this round. But dread starts to make its presence known deep in his chest as he sees you slowly gathering your things--this isn't how things usually go, you always stay the night at his place to keep him company, watching horrible romcoms, eating snacks and falling asleep at 5 a.m.

So why were you leaving?

"Hey, hey. Woaaah! Are you really going to ditch me because I got a little mean to some rando? That's so unfair." The look you give him is enough for his act to crumble, and Baby groans dramatically before hurrying to your side, tugging onto the hem of your sleeves. "Stay here! Pleeeeeeaase? I'll behave next time!"

It doesn't work; you pinch his cheeks and pull, stretching them like mochi. Your voice is stern, even after you let go. "You're old enough to know that what you have to say is 'sorry,' Baby. But if you want to beg for forgiveness, you'll have to try a little harder than that."

Shit. So much for being unfair, the tone of your voice and that look in your eye are more than enough to get all the thoughts in his mind twisted up--Baby hates when you don't indulge him, but even he has to admit that he loves that stubborn streak in you.

"What? Cat got your tongue? I know you well enough by now, there's no way you have nothing to say."

You never waver, meeting his eyes with the same intensity, running a hand through your hair. Baby's mouth turns into a fine line, followed by a pout. If he says anything right now, he'll most likely end up digging his own grave. You look SUPER hot right now, is that good enough to make up and get you to stay? Something like that would most likely earn him the silent treatment for a week.

"Sssssssorry ..."

"See, that wasn't so hard, was it--"

"...for being soooo damn good at my job. Like it's my fault?"

"I'll see you tomorrow Baby."

"Aw, c'mon!"

[skeletons-can-draw-too]

hii! (this is my 1st time doing this so idk how it goes-) but can i ask for anything with g1 soundwave? could be a lil kiss, a huggie, sitting on his hand/shoulder, or even chilling inside his cassette player. thanks and happy birthday again!

Ravage the best to cuddle with! But unfortunately that make’s frenzy and rumble jealous, luckily soundwave is there to calm things down

(Sorry this took so long thank u for the bday wishes!)

[pricetagged]

melrose

It started on the Inverbreck line. Eleven stations from Mildart to Dencarron before reaching the terminal station. Although, 'station' was being generous. It was more of a bramble-cracked podium and perpetually-closed ticket desk. Just two tracks bisected by a lone, dead-end platform; the only line that connected the town to the rest of the world. It was quiet. Dreary. (Dangerous, dark-) You catch the eye of something lonely and dangerous. Or, Vampire!Johnny AU.

CW: dark, MDNI. Stalking, harassment, kidnapping, noncon (of the enthralled kind) -> heavy dubcon (of the 'gives in' variety), blood, somno, basically 10k of build-up lol.

---------------

There was something on your chest.

Something heavy. Oppressive. A parasomnia made flesh; given form, pressing blunt and hard into your ribs. Bruising - capillaries bursting red and purple under the weight of the suffocating spirit.

Through fluttering, heavy eyes you caught the barest movement. Great, hulking, shadowy; a hypnopompic hallucination of what should be a man, but couldn't - (no- too big-). Your pulse fluttered quick and rabbity under the cage of your chest - stark, white bone and gristle and peach-soft flesh held still under the nightmare. Fuseli-esque and twisted, all garish blues and crimsons. Like someone had smudged paint on a corpse; some ghoulish mortician's joke.

A little grey here, two flashes of lapis, a great smear of scarlet dripping like sangria from the mouth.

It spoke.

"Ahm sorry, bonnie," it washed humid over your face. Hypnotic and rotten, you trembled under the gravel of its voice. "I just- ah had tae - fuck-"

It cut off with a groan, low and rich, slick lips smacking over slick teeth. The noise burrowed in, writhing under your flesh until you itched (not human, not natural, no no no, please-) but you couldn't move. All will and resolution scattered like ash in the wind as you just- couldn't- move. You felt the hysterical laughter bubble up in your chest but gave no voice to it. Limbs pinned to something soft and head-feverish, you could only peer through hazy, bleary eyes at the thing in front of you.

"Shh," it soothed as a whine escaped you, slurred and stumbling as something lifted you up, set you just right against the pillows. Soft satins and susurrus whispers hushed you, sent you spinning as thoughts slipped away like smoke in your hands. "Shh, it's alright. I've got ye, yer here now. Ah waited- I just- don't move."

(Move?)

Something wormed through, some undaunted, tenacious little thought-

I know that voice.

Your heart quickened.

Eyes fluttering wildly, you lifted your leaden head off the pillow. You saw him as through a veil -yes- yes, it was him-. The thoughts rooted like weeds, choking and constricting your already tight chest. Broad-shouldered and hirsute. Those piercing, animal eyes. That overgrown hair. That eerie, Cheshire grin with too-sharp teeth.

Johnny. The man from the train.

Your timorous, quick little breaths got caught in your loose, slack jaw. Synapses flared and died, useless under the force of this preternatural lull; terror struck hard and withered on the vine. Your thoughts raced, tripped and twisted until-

Your head drooped back, broken lily lolling on the stalk as everything went black.

----------- It started on the Inverbreck line.

Eleven stations from Mildart to Dencarron before reaching the terminal station. Although, 'station' was being generous. It was more of a bramble-cracked podium and perpetually-closed ticket desk. Just two tracks bisected by a lone, dead-end platform; the only line that connected the town to the rest of the world.

It was quiet. Dreary. (Dangerous, dark-)

The crisp, night air soothed your flushed cheeks, sharp and clear after the mustiness of the carriage. It was busiest closer to the city, bodies pressed tight. Stifling and hot, sweating under layers of Christmas jumpers and scarves as the train rattled down the tracks. People got jostled; you bumped into others. It was expected. Normal, really. Except-

Except it was always him.

He was hardly subtle, what being close to 6ft and broad as a brick house. He split the crowd with his mere presence, physicality turned to armour as people shuffled away from his bulk and closer to the doors.

And his eyes.

Cyan blue and too-bright. They swept the carriage, unblinking, until they landed on you. Constricted. Canicular. You felt the weight of his gaze like a net, heavy and abrasive, as your neck prickled and your throat went dry.

"Excuse me," he murmured, breath fanning hot against the shell of your ear. (Too close, too close-) His stubble tickled your cheek as he leaned in. "Tight squeeze, eh?"

There was a flittering pressure. A spasm of the fingers, surely, as his hand brushed your hip. He dug in hard to the plushness, gripping like he wanted to bury his fingers below layers of wool and acrylic until he gouged out space for himself below muscle and viscera. Just for a hairsplit-second. Lightning-quick, you yelped, murmured apologies to the censorious old woman next to you, and jerked away (not far enough).

"Sorry, lamb," he rasped - still so fucking close - and pressed in tight. "That wasnae the pole, was it."

You felt him behind you, bracketing you close to the grab bar. An ogre at your back and a crowd of apathy at your front. You scanned the carriage, too, wide-eyed and twitching but no- no. You wouldn't find help here. Bored, pallid faces. Some wind-flushed, some dry-lipped. All staring listlessly at their phones, watching the town turn to countryside out the window. The gentle rattle of the wheels on the track. The muted, jingling riffs and chords of Christmas music filtering through someone's headphones. Would anyone glance up, sense the twitching of your whiskers and take pity? A teenager fidgeting with a Magic Eight Ball caught your eye: 'All signs point to no!'

He was quick for someone so big. Your split-second glance cost you time to shoulder past the crowd, instead letting him step close enough to kick your bambi-legs wide and slip in between. You looked down past your hitching chest to see that he had planted one heavy, scuffed boot between your feet, the other boxing in your left leg. So close that his sole left marks, great black, sooty smears, all over the edge of your cute little shoes. 'At least they're waterproof; easier to clean'. The thought fizzled up like a sad sparkler.

The humidity of the carriage had you sweating- you and the crowd. The windows dripped with condensation, steam rising and revealing the fingerprints and traced messages of earlier passengers. Ella <3 Jason! Call Bilal: (+47)746775303. Merry Xmas! Smiley faces and swirls looked back at you, mocking you with their bland eyes and dripping curlicues. Your heavy overcoat hung over your shoulders and your fingers slipped, clammy, over the handles of the carrier bags in your grip.

And yet-

You felt cold where he pressed against you. Chilled from the back of your neck, down your spine and further, lower. Even through the denim pressed tight from your inner thigh to ankle where he'd bullied his way between your legs with sheer audacity and the confidence that you couldn't -wouldn't- move. That you wouldn't make a scene. Even his arms caged you in, one arched high above you, loose-gripped on the handrail above your head. The other twisted around your arm to grab at the same pole you held in a white-knuckled grip. Your shiver pushed you further into him, sliding against his thick, sturdy body.

Until it was cut short, ice down your spine freezing any further movement. There, at the base of your spine you felt it. Hard. Firm. Pressing against you with every swing and sway of the carriage. With every shift of his weight.

No.

No, it wasn't-

"That's naw the pole either, hen."

Your thoughts stuck, wheels skating uselessly over ice. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Dinnae be sorry. It's fer you," he breathed over you, voice rumbling low. "I know ye can help me with it. It's all achin', see-"

"What the fuck." Finally, some heads turned your way.

You didn't stop to apologise, didn't even look at anyone in your path as you rushed to the doors. The more distance you cleared, the more your thoughts whirred and buzzed. Swarmed, even, in a thick miasmic cloud that you ran from as much as you ran from him. Why didn't you call for help? Why didn't you get off at the first stop? Why did you let him box you in and-

Funny, you sought to shame yourself more than him.

The cold air outside slapped your face, clearing away the clutter rattling around in your skull. The peace was worth the extra taxi fare.

-------------

A week or two followed and you slowly began to feel comfortable on the train again. Slowly stopped looking for him in the crowd.

The pieces fit together like a clumsy mosaic; jagged and sharp, blending together to create a colourful facsimile of The Incident. You’d been calling it that – capital T, capital I: The Incident. Scared to give power to it, to speak it aloud and rip back the veil to reveal the sham lurking underneath. It was easier that way, easier to swallow. Opprobrium turned soft; a sugar-coated bitter pill.

Otherwise, what? Admit that some nasty, hulking beast nosed its way into your warren and forced you to squirrel away? No, no. It was just an Incident born of cramped space and holiday stress.

Still, you found yourself shuffling head-down to the nearest seats. Avoided blue eyes and broad shoulders. Until-

Until he was there again. Sniffed you out; caught your scent and followed you right to the seat. Same train, same carriage, same time. 18.47 to Inverbreck.

You saw him before he saw you. At least, you thought so. Jacket stretched tight across the breadth of his back, head turning lazily like a bird of prey. Tall, powerful, but a little wan. It was strange, this cocksure walk and strong stance spattered with a slight clamminess. The harsh fluorescent light seemed to strip him of colour; washed-out tan, icy eyes, dark circles. The dark stubble on his jaw and slightly grown-out hair altogether made him look…sad. Scraggly. Like some stray dog hunched in a doorway. Down on his luck, hungry and- (and ravenous. Cadaverous, even. Not quite right; no wind-flushed cheeks or vitality of the flesh. Sucked dry, taut and pallid and gaunt-).

-and he caught your eye. Fuck. Mouth stretched wide over stark, white teeth. The cat who caught the canary.

Neither of you blinked as he shouldered his way over, planted himself at your front. You didn’t have the presence of mind to look away initially, caught in the snare of his gaze. You gave first, blinking away (blinking away tears) and looking down. Scruff bared.

“Thought I’d scared ye off. But you’re made of stronger stuff, aren’t ye?” He licked his lips, mouth parting as the words sat behind his too-sharp teeth. So white, so pointed, so strange. It had you leaning closer, head tilting back as if to peer inside. “Couldnae stay away.”

Confusion cut the chord, sent you crashing back down and shaking. Is he talking about me or himself?

On second thought, did it matter what you thought? Like Aesop’s wolf, he had seen his shadow and mistaken it for truth.

You will filled with a sudden fury, buzzing across your skin and steeling your spine. Your mouth twisted, chewing over the words that you wanted to spit at him. The audacity to approach you again, affable as an old acquaintance! To box you in, to use his body as a threat. Power etched in every line; like a study oak, strong roots branching up to solid trunk and thick arms. But-

He was just a man, right? Just a man on a train.

“Well, kindly resist the urge in the future,” Your voice came out sharp, if lacking a little steadiness. “Let me pass, or I'm calling the inspector.”

You gathered your handbag, reaching for the pole to hoist yourself up and hoping that momentum would force him to move aside.

Foolish.

His thick-knuckled, clammy hand clamped around yours like a vice as you crashed into his chest. The friendly smile on his face warped into a terrible grimace, anger and confusion warring until they were bested by a calm that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Dinnae be like that, lamb,” his voice pitched low like rolling timber. It was pleasant, actually, shiver turning to shudder as your anger melted. Fight, flight or fawn? It seemed that you’d turned to ‘freeze’. Deer in the headlights, his hypnotic blue eyes bored into yours as you sought desperately for the anger -the fear- that you should be feeling. “Why don’t ye sit back down?”

The gentle chug-chug of the train over the tracks echoed the tattoo beating of your heart. The gentle sway and snick of sliding wheels soothed you, turning your mind static-y and slow.

You lowered yourself into the seat.

He smiled again, bright and happy, and you smiled right back.

He was handsome. So silly of you not to notice before! You had twisted him into some kind of scurrilous wretch, had built him up into a beastly bugbear ready to gobble you up and spit out the bones. What a funny thought. You laughed a little to yourself. Wicked imagination ye’ve got there, lamb. Clever.

You blinked drunkenly. You hadn’t seen his lips move.

He must’ve seen how your tongue lay heavy in your mouth, how your eyebrows tried to furrow together but couldn’t (-so heavy-) and drew the back of his knuckles across your cheek. So soft. Coarse, dark hair and callouses tickled at your peach fuzz, scraping lightly against the softness of your jaw.

You leaned into it, eyes drooping as your head drooped forward too.

“There’s a good girl. Feels nice when ye let it, aye?” his voice was thick, catching on the consonants and rumbling them out. He cradled your slack jaw, fingers digging in deep enough to bruise. Pulling your head back to look him in the eye was as easy as tugging at a marionette’s string. “Bet ye’d let me do more. Look at ye, fuckin’ beggin’ me to. Drooling an’ everything.”

His thumb swiped across your slack chin as two thick, blunt fingers forced their way past your lips. You felt yourself gag, retching as he pressed on the back of your tongue until his digits were slick. Something cried out in the back of your mind, shame and censure making itself pitifully known, but you swatted it away as you drooled around his hand. You felt a rough drag as he withdrew, catching on your blunt little teeth and pressing hard enough to leave imprints on his flesh.

You never even thought of biting down.

Enthralled, you watched him raise his hand to his face, slick fingers glistening under fluorescent lights like dayspring dew. One beat- another- he studied it, then you. A sommelier, taking in the aroma. Then, eyes blown wide, blue swallowed by black, he sucked his fingers into his mouth. Base, vulgar, vile, he groaned low and sucked hard. Smacking, esurient sounds echoed in the carriage and sent blood rushing to your face (-why-?)

“Fucking delicious,” his voice was gravel. “Taste better than ye smell, and ye smell divine.”

He leaned down low, crowding you against the back of the chair. You could do nothing but watch the rest of the carriage fade away until all you could see was him. He stood before you like an eclipse brought low, caging you between his bulky forearms as he whispered in your ear. Warning sirens flared up in your mind -predator! Wrong, unnatural, no!- but you heard them only as distant, tinkling bells.

Crouched low, he ran his nose down your neck and across your collarbones.

“Fuck, can smell yer cunt droolin’, too, under all those layers,” His exhale was throaty. Mournful, even. And, with one final inhale, desperate and harsh, he backed away shaking his head.

The train gave a hard jolt, rattling your skull against the window.

Your face was wet? Why was it-? You swiped at your damp cheeks as black spots danced across your vision.

You heard him laugh, low and mean, as he exited at the platform.

-------------- You didn’t remember walking home that evening. Didn’t remember anything until the next morning after a night of fitful, restless sleep. December days crept slowly, a sort of liminal space calendar counting down until the January blues. It was bleak; feeling the biting cold and watching boisterous festivities from the outside, like a child staring longingly through the window. Little matchstick girl, alone and out in the snow.

And you felt every inch the urchin as you stared in your foggy mirror, skin dry and eyes-puffy. There was a certain malheur to your gaze, a dimness of the light and vitality that should be there. Doleful and red-rimmed, you watched yourself blink. Watched yourself go through the motions. Run the tap, rinse your face. Grab the toothbrush and open wide-

It clattered in the sink, toothpaste smeared on the porcelain like impasto on a canvas. An impressionist streak of your scrambled thoughts.

Ceramic caught in a knuckle-cracking grip you hunched over the sink. Your breath came quick and your arms shook. Match-struck, fingers burned- the memory hit you like flare. The heat of it seared from the inside, white-hot and sickening. You gagged, spitting up in the sink as your eyes streamed.

It was the most alive you’d looked all morning.

The days followed with the static quality of a snow globe. Changes in routine were ephemeral, fleeting. Instead, snow fleeced down and swirled over twinkling lights and gingerbread houses. Inverbreck glowed merrily, strings of tinsel and candy-cane cards decorating the usually austere grey brickwork. A Presbyterian town turned to postcard, severity melting like marshmallows in chocolate. It was cheery, beautiful even, but spoiled. Someone had grabbed the bauble and shook too hard. Picturesque and trapped, you could only tap at the glass.

You stared through the frost-pricked window panes of a beautiful confectioner shop. MALLON AND MOYE, EST. 1849. Rich velvet and stained mahogany strained under boxes of chocolate and sweets. Their arms laden with little sugar flowers and candied fruit, you watched as cheery cherub-cheeked children skipped after frazzled parents. Quaint Victorian greetings stared up at you from the display, red-breasted robins and penny-farthings brought to mind a fellow miser. ‘Solitary as an oyster’, you and Ebenezer Scrooge. Bah, humbug. But, you weren’t quite that bitter yet. No.

Perhaps it was time to message some friends or family back home.

Something prickled at your neck, a needle-like warning. Whipping around, you saw only shoppers and tourists turning snow to sludge as they trudged along Main Street. Still, a chill remained, crawling over your chest and down your arms until your were goosebumped and shivery.

Then, you saw him.

You caught his eyes across the street, watched as the crowds parted around him as naturally as if he were a streetlamp. Your breath caught in your chest, frigid and jagged, like it had turned to ice in your lungs. You felt it cracking, ribs straining and head-light until you blinked away myodesopsia and inhaled, thin and reedy, through your nose. 'Muscae volitantes', you recalled - 'flying flies' in a Latin pleonasm that couldn't quite capture the speed and scale of the pestilent little black spots. The lights above your danced and blurred a dizzying ballet until you closed your eyes hard. When you opened them, he was gone.

Calm bit hard at you like sleet before sluicing off again. At home that night it melted away completely.

Slipped into your bag was a Christmas Card. The outside, a two jolly little oysters walking the beaches of Dover, holly scattered around the greeting. MERRY CHRISTMAS TO YOU, MAY WE SOON MEET AGAIN. A Victorian card from the confectioner's display. Inside held only two words. Your name, and 'Johnny'.

You threw it in the fire, and turned away with shaking hands.

If you’d stayed to watch, you would’ve seen the way the flames shirked and withered around his name.

------------

“Love, all you’ve got is a name- no surname, at that- and a description of half the fellas in Scotland. I’m sorry, but unless he does something threatening there’s nothing we can do.”

“So, what, I just have to wait for him to do something worse? That’s- really? He can just grab women in trains and follow them around the city and-“

“Well, that’s the thing, isn’t it. You said he grabbed your hip and that you see him in and around your train route. There’s not much to follow-up with here. Unless you want to make another report.”

“No-I,” an image stained your mind, pitch black and iniquitous. A great black blob seeping across the slate of your mind. You imagined submitting a complaint, imagined them reviewing the grainy CCTV footage to see you placid and starry-eyed as he fingered your open mouth. That same mouth that twisted and hesitated in the station now. “You know what? Never mind.”

Time ticked on as if through treacle. Slow and syrupy, you felt trapped in monotony and unable to shake the feeling of something dripping down your spine.

After the Christmas card you started to see him more and more. Just flashes here and there – a man on the other side of the platform; a mohawk in the city crowd; a pair of bright blue eyes peering at you from the bushes outside. That one scared you the most, heart seizing and strangling the air from your chest until the headlights from a passing car reflected in its gaze. Just eye-shine. Tapetum lucidum, the tapestry of light that blanketed the retina in a crystalline coverlet. Likely a neighbour’s cat or some other nocturnal creature. Creature of the night, aye.

Your shaking hands pulled hard at the curtains, shutting out peeping eyes and pernicious thoughts.

Seeing him back on the train was almost a relief. ‘Out of sight, out of mind’ was an adage applicable only to those with enough friends and frivolity to nip anxiety in the bud.

For you, it bloomed like frost-bitten bluebells in the snow. Neither daunted nor distracted by the slate-grey sky or biting cold, it persisted. Thrived, even. Every raucous gaggle of friends and merrymakers reminded you that you were alone (solitary, vulnerable-). A choice dictated by economics and independence; the choking, nebulous tendrils of regret only twisted across your skull at times like these.

Like right now, right as he got on the very same stop as you and hovered just by the doors. Trying to ignore him was like trying to ignore a solar flare. You knew that you shouldn’t look -it was bad for you, dangerous even- but oh, so tempting. Even if you resisted the urge, abstained from looking with Eremitic restraint, you would still get burned. Closing your eyes, looking away – it was futile. Like a cynosure, luminous and warm in your peripheral you just couldn’t resist. A slight turn of the head, a small flutter of the lashes and there-

He wasn’t looking at you.

Shock, confusion, and a squirming, pathetic vein of disappointment slapped you like cold water to the face. You huffed out a breath that didn’t taste like relief and adjusted your grip on the railing. This was good. Great, actually. Maybe he’d been caught, maybe the police had actually done their job and issued a warning, maybe-

Maybe someone else had caught his eye.

The bitter, carbolic bile coating your throat wasn’t envy. No, no. It was dread. Dread that another poor thing had stolen tickled his fancy. You wouldn’t wish that on anyone. It was terrifying. It made you feel disgusting, pulled apart and laid bare at the whim of this covetous dog. He followed you for scraps, slobbered all over your hand when you let him close. Would probably hump your leg if you let him.

You let the passing countryside hush the discordant tumble of your thoughts. This was good. A Good Thing.

The rowdy press of football fans to your right snapped the elastic band in your mind. You’d stretched it too far, too thin -all him and the rolling pastures outside- and left yourself tired and worn. You hitched your bag tighter over your shoulder and stepped further to the bar. A panel up above confirmed you had three more stops to go. Three more stops until you could break down in your own home, pull apart the cotton stuffing of your thoughts and stitch up the mess anew.

“Hey, girlie. You got the time?”

The rolling pixels of the announcement board seemed to stick. There was a small patch on the bottom left that needed repairing, all green and black static.

“She’s away wi' it,” A loud, performative laugh. “Hello? You awake, love? Got the time or what?”

Blinking stupidly, you glanced to the right to see a mean, pointed face arching his eyebrow at you.

“Me?”

“Hardly asking the emergency stop button, am I?”

Flustered and on the spot you dug through your pockets for your phone. Another time, another place and you’d have told them to fuck off, sick of being belittled and bullied by crude, churlish men. But you’d had enough trouble on trains to last a lifetime.

“Hold on a sec,” you mumbled as you felt them pressing closer, pack animals closing in on the limping gazelle.

You could hear your pulse in your ears, beating hard and resonant as a drum and you cursed yourself. Cursed him, leaving you unable to tell danger from refuge. Your senses were broken, skin prickling at the slightest sound and hands shaking at a glance. All situational awareness shattered into smithereens and now, here you were, fingers slipping and trembling in your pocket as you tried to reach for your phone.

“Ah wouldnae bother if I were you.”

You froze. Swallowed down the lump in your throat and looked up through pricking eyes.

“You-” the sentence died in the cradle, feeble and spluttering as you trailed down the length of his arm. Right down to where it was clamped hard around the wrist of the man who had his hand halfway in your handbag.

Under the flickering lights of the carriage he looked ghastly. Positively ghoulish. Fluorescence sapped any lustre from his flesh, making him look deeply unwell. Wan and sunken and furious. His nostrils flared like a destrier, only there was no steam or heat to his exhale. It chilled to the point of burning, bright white. White as his eyes around pin-prick pupils. His dark stubble painted a grisly penumbra on the stark canvas of his face. You trailed your eyes down, down the dull stretch of his straining throat. You watched him swallow, eyes bobbing with the pulse of his Adam's apple.

"Take it easy, mate. Just a misunderstanding, aye?" you saw the dawning awareness in the man's eyes, the sudden apprehension of his low-rank on the trophic level. Big man brought low; mesopredator in the gaze of an apex species.

"Let me make it clear, then. Get yer hand away tae fuck before I remove it," the words rushed out in a cavernous growl, rumbled so low that you felt them belly-deep.

"Jesus, dial it down a bit," the man shuffled his feet, shifted his gaze between his you and his mate. As if you'd help him. As if you had any power here.

He tried to pull his hand back, straining against stone, before your unwelcome paladin hauled him in close. His thick, coarse hands looked strangely attenuated, blunt fingernails seemingly sharp as talons as the stranger winced and struggled. Johnny leaned down, looming like a vulture over scraps, as he brought himself cheek-to-cheek with his stunned quarry.

And you, too, were stunned. Hand still tucked in your pocket, phone loose in your feeble grasp. You watched, unwilling observer, as his face stretched into a horrifying rictus grin exposing pale gums and dripping teeth. His whisper chilled you to the marrow, scratching and harsh like a knife over bone.

"You live in Harnoch, right? Except, yer no gonnae get off at that stop. Yer getting' off at the next one, you and yer mate, and yer gonna take a nice long stroll down the darkest road ye can find until I find ye later."

Whether fear or thrall, you weren't sure. You just watched, etherised, as the pair shambled off, muttering to themselves and glancing back at the "psycho fuckin' bastard" panting over your crown.

You watched yourself through the reflection on the window, waxen and stiff as a mannequin. Maybe he'd get you to turn your head, dig his fingers into your cheeks and make you smile as he puppeted you to his whim. Hollow little marionette, you couldn't even feel the panic that had a cold sweat breaking across your forehead. Instead, you just felt the slow glide of his strong jaw as he hunched over you like a starving bandog. His stocky, powerful arms fettered over yours, curling into your ribs until you were held tight against his broad chest. Territorial aggression turned saccharine (artificial as aspartame).

"You need me, see," he licked at his chops. Breathed a miasmic lull over the racing of your heart. "Poor wee lamb."

You sunk into it, into the somniferous sway of the carriage under your feet and the man at your back. Later, you'd call it shock. A simple case of tachycardia restricting your blood flow, rabbit-quick heart flitting faster than you could process. Weakness, sweating, anxiety. Just a quirk of the circulatory system.

"I don't," your voice cracked, cut off the conclusion to your sentence. You wanted to scream it, 'I don't need you', but the words felt malformed. "I- You didn't need to do that."

"'Course I did," you could almost believe that you were lovers, the way he nuzzled into your neck. Would believe it, except for the hunger in his voice and the shudder ripping down your spine. "It's nice tae have a starter before the main course."

Stock-still, you felt his rough tongue lave across your neck. You couldn't see him in the window, but you felt him. Felt every, menacing inch of his bulk as he groaned softly into your vulnerable throat. A single, watery tear slipped over your lash-line. Traitorous, exiguous fluid. And of course, he caught it. Dug his thumb in and lapped it right up like the salt from your neck.

"Aw, didnae mean it like that. Dinnae cry, now," he cooed at you. Petted over your hair as he whispered trite, deceptive comforts in your ear. "Ye'll only drive me mad, and I already have plans fer tonight."

You sucked in a shuddering breath as the wheels screeched over the tracks. Commuters shouldered past you as the doors swooshed open, apathetic to the stilted tableau - a facsimile of a lover's embrace- playing out by the exit. With a lingering, wet kiss on your neck and a hard squeeze, he was gone.

That evening, you sobbed hard and choking into your pillow until it was sodden with tears and sweat.

Something scratched and tapped at your window all night, forcing you into an insomnious candlelit vigil. A pastiche of midnight mass, you cried out prayers like ritual devotions until the lambent quiescence of dawn. Trembling and over-tired, you snatched back the curtain to see only the swaying, overgrown branch of the elder tree outside your window.

Despite it no longer fruiting, you pretended the red smear on the pane was just juice from its berries.

-----------------

The next time you saw him he was hearty and hale. Flushed and plump and healthy. Whatever it was that brought colour to his cheeks also put a spring in his step. Made him bolder, cheekier. An out-and-out scoundrel untouched by shame. He was always with you, right until the last few stops as the carriage grew emptier and emptier.

It was a game to him, seeing how far he could push before reproach. How far he could poke and prod at you until time or circumstance put him to shend.

At the busier stations, he pressed close and rocked with the motion of the train, all the while muttering filth in a discursive stream right into your ear. You were his 'poor wee lamb', bleating plaintively to the deaf ears of the rest of the herd. Too busy, too wrapped up in their own lives to notice the wolf that had ambled in in their clothing just to snap you up in his cavernous maw. He stayed that way, roving hands and rabelaisian growls forcing you to bite back squeals and tears as you endured his rough attentions.

He stayed that way even as the crowd grew sparser and sparser, something digging into your lower back as he grabbed at your hips. As he pretended that his clumsy gropes were only due to the jerking of the train.

Sometimes he'd talk to you like you were a real person, all chit-chat and greetings. He'd ask about your day and ramble through your silences. The chatter scared you more than any of the aberrant, salacious refuse he'd spew in your ear. Scared you more because it revealed how deeply unstable he was. Lonely, too.

A very dangerous combination.

"Made any New Year Resolutions yet, lamb?" this time he had you backed into the gangway, eyes dilated by more than just the dim light. "Want tae hear mine?"

Your lips were pressed so tight together that he had to struggle to slip his thumb in between. He tugged it down as he trilled out a falsetto "Yes, Johnny" in a parody of your voice.

"There ye go. Such a good listener," he patted at your cheek just slightly too soft to be a slap. "Ah've actually got a load, but I'll tell you the important ones. First one is to spend more time wi' loved ones. Been on my own fer a while, see, and ah don't think it's been too good for the mental health."

He knocked at the side of his head. There, under the shaggy growth of his dark hair was a shiny patch of skin. Pale and misshapen, like some kind of nebulous scar stretching across his temple. "Can start tae get all kind of strange ideas on yer own. Of course, you'd know all about that in that big empty house of yours."

He laughed at the way you startled, arctic eyes warm with sick amusement. Like having the ugly truth stare right back at you. You turned away from his nasty, knowing smirk.

"Second one is tae eat healthier. Been takin' in all kinds of muck, recently, tryna be restrained and all. But maybe it's no right to deny myself. Wouldnae want to have an accident, go really wild and do something that ah'd come to regret," he trailed off slowly at that, fingers stroking softly against your fluttering pulse. He swallowed hard, teeth glinting strangely under the fluorescent lights as he whispered more to himself than to you. "Just a wee bite, though, a little taste- wouldnae hurt much."

The chiming of the service announcement broke the spell.

With a strangled growl, he backed away fast enough to jostle those behind him. He shouldered roughly past them, earning you a few dirty looks as you stared blankly into the crowd.

How much you had changed in a matter of weeks. Stupid, placid thing. Getting yourself followed and felt-up after every other shift. Must be gagging for it. Desperate.

The thoughts sliced in like a penknife through wood. You + Johnny. And there you were, stripped of your bark and forced to endure the winter. Periderm torn off and leaking sap all over the floor of the carriage. Dripping it all the way home, 'Come and get me!' it seemed to say. 'I can't fight back'. Maybe someone would take pity on you, wrap you up from the cold and give you a chance to recover.

You huffed out a bitter laugh.

Maybe someone would dig deeper, peel back layers of phellem until you were weak and sticky and malleable.

It was more than pessimism. Beyond that entirely. The isolation, your job. The long commute and the melancholic ooze of wintery mist and fog. It permeated your mind, muddied you with the mucinous carcinoma of malism. And you didn't put up much of a fight, no. Why should you, when previous cries for help went unanswered? When you weren't safe on your own or in a crowd?

When the only person who checked in on you with any regularity was your stalker.

True to form, he was there the next night. And the next. On the train and in your dreams. Twisting, writhing, fever-hot nightmares that left you shaking and soaking wet. Lounging back on your pillows, supine and debauched. The profligate portrait of a ruined odalisque. In the palace of your mind you cried out for his touch. His attention. You could admit, in winding abstract corridors, that you were cold. You were lonely. There was something grotesque within you. Some ugly, hungry wretch that warped every whispered perversion and stolen touch into something soft. Something like tenderness.

You tamped it down. Smothered it, snuffed it out in the cruel, brumal light of day.

Still, you could no longer attribute the shakiness of your legs and quickening of your heart only to terror.

It escalated. He stayed longer on the train. Followed you to the empty train station and hovered like a poisonous pea-soup fog. On the nights when you were joined by a few work-weary stragglers he turned truculent. Swaggered around the platform and stared down anyone who so much glanced your way. Belligerent, and bulky enough to back it up, he soon drove away any well-meaning concern until you were cut-off. Cloistered and isolated under the procyon sky; stranded under the cold, dispassionate light of stars and constellations far above.

He was looking ill again. Ashen as he sat under the flickering lamplight on a lonely bench. You hesitated, feet dragging against damp concrete as you considered your escape. You swallowed at the sight of his wolfish grin, legs spread wide and shoulders lax against the wind-worn slats of his seat. No matter what, you would be forced to brush past as you found the exit gate.

You could only hear the soft buzzing of the streetlight and your own quickening breaths.

The flitting light cut through the fog, scratches of yellow on white illuminating every dust mote and jerky exhale. Yours, of course, not his. No, the air was perfectly still around him. Preternaturally so, like the powdery specks of station detritus were suspended under his thrall. He tilted his head at you, dark eyebrow raising and eyes - just for a second- glowing blue. Pure blue, no hint of pupil or white. Chatoyant and unsettling, surely some kind of refractive error. Surely.

You stepped closer.

The dull, squelch of your boots over slushy, grey puddles seemed embarrassingly loud. You had the impression that this was wrong somehow. That you were a simple, unworldly creature, announcing herself with an unsteady gait. Too naïve to know that she should stay still, duck down in the grass and hide until more interesting prey ambled past. Still, against all instinct and reason, you stepped closer.

"C'mon, lamb. Yer acting like ye know I'll bite."

You faltered slightly. "I-I think that you phrased that wrong."

He just grinned in response. Oh Johnny, what big teeth you have-

Sitting in the bench didn't diminish his stature. You'd thought, foolishly, that you would somehow have the high-ground advantage. That you could push your shoulders back and stride past him, slumped in the bench. You'd failed to account for his sheer mass, the menacing strength packed into layers of muscle and meat. Thick, bulky thighs looked wider as he sat, bulging over the slats. He hooked his elbows over the back, flexing the broad expanse of his chest. He swallowed up the space, stretching his legs out until they were right in front of you. Not a barrier, really. You could walk around them. Step over, if needs be. And yet-

You stopped, a hairsbreadth away.

A bead of sweat rolled down your temple. You saw his eyes follow it, pupils wide and black and hungry.

Words caught in your throat, dissolving under the churning waves of adrenaline coursing through your bloodstream. He must have noticed the slight tremble in your fingers, the way your exhales furled choppily in the frigid, oppressive air. Mouth dry, you licked your lips. A single, flaking piece of skin peeled up and, without thinking, you bit down. Tore it up, petal shredded until it wept a perfect crimson teardrop.

His head tilted sharply, nostrils flaring.

He scoffed, voice pitched low enough to burn. Friction, rumbling and coarse, scratched at the back of your neck. "And ye expect me not tae eat you up."

"I- What?"

"You expect tae walk away, expect me no tae eat you right up."

You reacted too slowly, limbs opiate-heavy and mind blank. You didn't even see him move.

--------------

And now there was something on your chest.

Coming-to was like wandering through a dark, drizzling mist with only a dying candle as your guide. It was humid, both clammy and altogether too-hot; the air felt suffocating. Like you couldn't get enough to fill your lungs. Whatever did filter through was marshy with the scent of earth and acid, sweat and musk. You'd gag if you could, the tang of warm copper pennies making you wrinkle your nose. And what a pyrrhic relief, that you could wrinkle your nose!

You tried again as something hot and stinging streamed over your flushed cheeks. Your fingertips ached with the need to swipe at it, smear it away and fan at the oppressive heat. A fool's hope.

You felt something viscid and sticky cooling on your skin. Senses came back slowly. First smell, now touch. Sound followed, sly and slow and vulpine. A fox, dancing just behind the treeline, chittering and smug as it slipped from sight. Maybe your eyes were open, but you just couldn't see? Perhaps your mind thought it a blessing - a mercy- to spare you the sight of the thing buried in your throat. Because that's where the sound was coming from.

Wet, greedy suckling mixed with heady moans. Something slick and rhythmic. Tension wound taut to pluck at low, indulgent notes and tristful exhales. A sinner's lament over a ruined fast; greed and guilt turned to fragrant wine atop the spoiled refectory of your body.

A tiny, sorrowful cry pierced out from your chest.

"Shh, just let me- ye have no idea how good you fuckin' taste," he was panting, breathless. You felt every harsh exhale against the stickiness of your nape. "Just need tae get-"

He trailed off with a choked groan. The slick sounds sped up, faster and faster as his breathing stuttered, and a sickening realisation cut through the fog. He nuzzled into your neck and It was just too much - the disgusting, heady noise, the tickling of his hair against your ear. The heavy press of his thighs atop your waist, and the pulsing ache of your throat. You lay there, corpse-heavy, as he drank from your neck and slated his lust. His bloodlust. The thought sliced like a sharp thorn.

It must have made you jerk slightly, barbed synapses firing and twisting in your hemorrhaging thoughts. He noticed. Hushed you with sickening sweetness and cradled your face with tacky fingertips (the noises weren't stopping, why weren't they stopping-).

"Havenae forgotten about you, lamb."

He trailed his fingers over your cheeks, a traitorous comfort, until he reached your eyes. Butterfly-soft he swiped at the lids until they fluttered. You noted with some panic how cold he felt, how waxen his flesh felt against yours. Not human, not natural; the inversion of a wake. You lay prone and exsanguinated on the bed with the wraith peering over. Only the wet drag of flesh on flesh above convinced you that this was real. There was no hysterical hallucination that would bring you this low, no psychosomatic stress response that could conjure an apparition of this kind.

Yet, acceptance was wily. It slipped through the haze of your marshy thoughts and hovered phosphorescent just out of reach. You ached to follow it, to reach out and grab this sickly little portent and swallow it whole.

But you couldn't.

Poor thing, how could you? Lying belly-up and throat ripped open.

(So you sank into it).

It must have sweetened you somehow, those balmy notes of submission sighing through your bloodstream. An ambrosia for the vaurien. You felt as soon as it hit his tongue because he cursed. Snarled out a 'fuck!' in a way that was almost angry, and curled over you like a dog. Like a filthy, slavering beast atop the spoils of the hunt. Something splattered across your stomach and you realised with shame that you were naked.

Your vision came back muted. Diplopia stretched and warped your already lagging senses, sending the room-spinning to a dizzying tilt. At first he was more shadow than man. A horrifying phantasm of wicked, grasping want. You had never seen a face so hungry, so unsatiable, after a feast. He was naked as you were, but that was no relief. A terrible, lupine grin slashed across his face as his eyes met yours, whites and iris swallowed by the pitch-black bleeding of his pupils.

And yet, you tried desperately to read something soft there. Some small hint of tenderness or pity- why else would he bring you home? Strip you bare to lay you on a bed of satin? And yes -there. There was a slight wetness to his feverish gaze. A flickering, greedy hope hiding behind his appetites.

"Dinnae hide away," he must have read the horror on your face. The way you impotently strained to turn. "You're in me now. Part of me. Not much else left tae hide."

It was meant to be comfort, a reverent whisper in a raw, aching tone, but it left you feverous. You felt shivery, head packed with cotton wool and eyes still so heavy. (Inside him? You were, weren't you). Ripe little pomegranate glittering in ruby and just oh-so-tempting.

He was inside you too, you realised only just now. He had dogged your routines, scratched out a space for himself in your mind. Scratched deeper and deeper, burrowing in until you were pulpy and hollow. A necrotizing fasciitis spread from the very first time he kicked your legs open and groped at your soft flesh.

You were spread now, too. Rough, calloused hands caught on the goosebumps of your thighs, tickling slightly all the way down to your ankles.

He was slow, more gentle than you'd ever imagined him to be. This creature of rapacious appetites, who plucked you from the tree before you were even ripe. Now, he took his time, drank in the sight of you just as he had supped at your blood. You were shaking, an involuntary response to his careful groping. To his strange, lukewarm flesh. You felt simultaneously trapped and out of body - a sick, amytal fugue. A chemical sedation by sight, smell, and his strange thrall. Even the scent of him, musky and rich, seemed to fill your lungs and choke out resistance.

You couldn't see how he slid down your body, couldn't lift your head and follow his path. Instead you watched the sickly photism left by his strong palms. You knew where he was headed, sparks alighting a roadmap from your bare things to your core, and you squeezed your eyes shut. All that you could do. You heard nothing but the whisper of rough hands against soft skin, and his heavy breathing mixing with yours. He lost patience; you noticed the slight growl catching in his throat a fraction before he squeezed hard. A slurred cry slipped past your lips-

"Shh, be patient. Ah have tae be careful, havenae done this since before," His voice was rueful, some note of loss spoiling the low burr of desire.

It made you open your eyes, curiosity slipping past horror, until you could see his face hovering in the dark. There was a horrible, jagged edge to his handsome features. Strangely shorn hair, skin dull and etiolated. Those shining, expressive eyes. Like something grown in the uncanny valley - it made you blink back tears.

"Ah mightn't have needed to try so hard, then. You might'nae have played so coy," He continued. Deluded, you wanted to scream. But, your neck prickled, noticed some shadows in the humour. Memories and pain. With it came the barest flicker of vitality on his face before it was gone, replaced by something that lurked in dark corners.

He distracted himself with more reverent, disgusting touches, hushing you as whines clawed their way out with kitten-strength. You trembled in your unnatural prison, bound and silent as he spread your legs so wide that they burned. He forced himself in between, stocky thighs keeping yours open to his gaze.

Cool touch replaced cool air as he grazed your bared cunt, softly at first. More petting than a touch, the width of his hand covered you entirely. Were you not already, it would have sent you reeling. Dizzy with the thought of his breadth, the rough contrast of his hand against you sensitive inner flesh. He sucked in a harsh breath and you felt his fingers flex slightly. Something within you knew that he was holding back bruising strength.

"So fuckin' cute," You blinked, realising that he was looking down as he spoke. He spread his fingers, opening you entirely to his greedy, pitch-dark eyes. Your face burned, hot at the feeling and at the filth he uttered as he shifted closer. "Already knew you were pretty, but I didnae know you'd look so fuckin' cute like this. Poor wee lamb, she's aching, isn't she? Can see she's cryin' for me."

You didn't respond. Couldn't- not with your heavy, leaden tongue. The rawness of his voice scraped over you, made you shiver in a way that he mistook for desire. When you tried to give voice, to rail against his insidious assertions, all you could muster was a feeble cry.

That too, he took as his; your body, your blood, your voice.

"Dinnae fuss- ah'll make it good for ye. Just need tae keep a handle on my strength, see. Cannae have ye writhing around," he must have caught your pitiful glare, the furrow of your wide, limpid eyes, as his face softened. Just a fraction, a little oil poured over jagged deadwood.

It slicked his words, all arrogance, confidence. Assuredness ."Ah've taken the edge off already. Didnae plan on grabbing you tonight, but ah've no been able to hunt since that night."

His words dripped over you like tar, filling in the blanks and empty spaces. It's funny, his explicit assertion - the murder, committed in your name- made you want to freeze. The contradiction crashed over you, made you kick slightly - just a smidge. A feeble little flaring of deadened synapses, but you did it. the tingling in you fingertips now felt more like hope.

(You doggedly ignored the tingling in your stomach).

"Ye've done something to me, I just-. There was nothing there after," he gestured to his head, shook the thought off like a rabid dog. Even through the tangle of his hair you could see it, that strange pale keloid spidering across- "after- but now there's you. Smelled ye on that train from the very front carriage. Fuckin' ripe - sweatin' up under yer coat, actin' so shy."

He grinned down at you. Silly little lamb, it seemed to say, who's afraid of the big bad wolf?

I am - your fingers twitched against the sheets.

Your legs, though- they stayed spread open. An asthenic sprawl, leaving you open to inspection and touch and invasion. A moth pinned to a hobbyist's board, entirely thrall to his will. It prickled over you, stifling heat building with every stroke of his hands. They'd returned to your core to find a slight wetness, slicking the way for his thick fingers to probe deeper. You saw his nostrils flare, the flick of his tongue against his - too long, too sharp- canines.

"Naughty wee thing, tryin tae get my mouth down there," there was a wickedness to the tilt of his lips, the low tease of his voice. He pressed his thumb hard into your thigh until the flesh ached and dimpled. You felt your frantic, fitful pulse fluttering underneath. His voice dropped lower. "If I bit you there, I wouldnae stop."

You sighed out relief when he let you go, only for your breath to hitch as he slapped your pussy. Hard. An admonishment for your perceived allurement.

He shushed you as he soothed it, broad hand feeling warmer and warmer as he stroked. A parasitic heat, spreading from you to him, and back again. It made you confused, discarnate. Some formless being laid out for him, striped of all but flesh. You moaned - mournful, dizzy- as he pressed one thick digit inside. The slight catch of his rough skin, the drag of his coarse knuckle inside sent you spinning. Pulsing, body crying for more as your mind struggled to catch up.

He knew. Rewarded your plangent cries with another finger. He stretched you wide, your thin delicate entrance throbbing around him until the slick dripped down his wrist.

"Look at that," the squelch of his hand made you whine, desire murky with shame. He tapped at your clit, just a little flick against the pebbled flesh. "Havenae even touched you here yet, and just look at you."

You wanted to writhe, to twist away from the pleasure-pain of his steady circling. But you couldn't. couldn't do anything more than lie there and endure it. You felt your thighs begin to shake, nerves twitching and seizing until finally - finally - you could cry out-

"-please, please I can't-"

"You fuckin' will," he growled it, thumb never breaking pace as he curled his fingers inside, hitting that spot that made you see stars.

It hurt, body clenching hard under an unnatural lull. You wanted to stretch out, arch back and curl your toes-

Instead, you sobbed.

Wrung out, mind-spinning and body twitching. Wetness cooling on your dewy, sensitive flesh - your cunt, your stomach, your neck. It all made you sob, a post-orgasmic ataxia. A night terror in waking.

He grabbed your face with his hand, still wet with your slick. Pressed hard into the plump cheeks until your mouth opened. You blinked blearily up at him, docile and trembling.

"You need me too, don't you?" Dumbstruck, you just looked up. There was something wild to his eyes, lust and hunger and something…empty. You could still see little drying flecks around his mouth, rust on snow. "Say it, ye need me."

You could blame it on whatever powers he wielded. On how you lay fallow. Ploughed yet unseeded at his touch.

"I-," your voice came out scratchy. Weak. "I need you."

He forced you to say it again, to bleat it out for him as he panted above you. Every whispered plea was like looking in a mirror that he held before you. Glassy-eyed, you stared back at your own loneliness.

It really was just you, and this thing. It started to settle, the basest of notions. You needed him-

(wasn't there something else niggling at the back of your mind-?)

"Yeah, ye do. It's why you've been walking around by yerself. Begging for someone tae snap you up. Lucky it was me."

(Lucky for whom?)

It didn't matter. He wasn't yet sated. How could he be, this creature of appetite? Gluttonous, greedy, gorging thing. A walking perversion; sin turned gourmand.

Your helium thoughts flew off like balloons - snip, snip, snip - with the snick of his slick teeth like scissors. He lapped at your neck once more, snuffed into it and groaned. You felt him against your entrance, crude, blunt cock sliding clumsily between your folds until it notched home. You couldn't see it, but the feeling had you whining plaintively in the cage of his arms. It was obscene; some ithyphallic nightmare of too-large flesh.

And then he pressed in.

Slowly at first, your body still wound too tight to accept him comfortably. But he made a space for himself, rocked his hips and hitched a thigh high over his bulky shoulder so that he could watch the way you squeezed. You clenched at the graze of his teeth against your neck, a horrible little thrill making you cry as he took you apart on his cock. Every thrust had you trembling, sent you sliding up the sheets and closer to his dripping maw.

But, oh- he had you trapped. Thrust up towards his teeth, or squirming down harder on his cock. An impossible choice, but you tried to make it. Poor thing.

Until you had no choice. Until his hips thrust harder, sucked in with an obscene squelching that had you gritting your teeth. His hot, slick tongue grew rougher until you felt a sting. Shameful, unending suckling filled the room and you felt your eyes flutter heavy once more.

Limp, placid, despoiled. Your body was in service to a slavering parasite. It infected you, this predaceous desire. Made you hot and sick in equal turns. Your core ached, clit throbbing as you slurred out your pleas. To stop, to keep going, to make you come, to leave you alone-

You felt his hand, now closer to your temperature. He dragged it across your slack lips, before digging it into your eyelid and tugging cruelly upwards.

"There ye are," he rasped, mean and breathless. "Cannae have ye driftin' off again. Not until-"

You were shivering again, fire burning deep inside but yet so cold. Clammy. Thoughts came hazy as an oil lamp flickering in the fog. It blanketed you, left you dreamy and carefree (and wrong- wake up-).

Still, he didn't stop, cruel thrusts and sharp teeth, until you felt like you'd float away. You felt him so deep, heard him groaning as he lost his pace and fumbled around your clit until you wriggled uselessly -'good girl, don' fight it, just need ye t-' and came. Stars danced across your vision, obscuring his ferine grimace, and you let them. Decarnate, you sagged into the sheets. Felt the soft tickle of his coarse hair on your chest as he kissed you frantically - finally.

It was nasty. All copper-tinge and spit and tongue. He licked into your open mouth as his hips stuttered, and with a choked moan he came.

He didn't move at first, just crushed you under his (-corpse-heavy-) bulk. You felt sticky and raw where he was buried inside, thick globs of come leaking out and mixing with the slick on the ruined bedsheets. You whined as he pulled out, a soft little 'ah' that he swallowed up with another cruel kiss.

"One day, ah'll have every single part of you," he whispered it like a promise. A constrictive, binding geas that sent your heart racing in your tight chest.

Unable to move, unable to answer you just let a tear slip over your lashline. Lacrima for a rain-laden rose; you drooped against the pillows. Under him.

Forever.

--------------

'Shee droopeth in her minde, As, nipt by an ungracious winde, Dothe some faire lillye flowre.'

massive thanks to stelle, gougie, bwuh, three, and woolie for listening to me whine about this for the past three weeks. probs wouldn't have posyed without your support <3

[revelboo]

Who would be reversed-sparked in alcohol eyes?

Who indeed…🔞 🌶️ DP implied fem bits

Uno Reverse-Sparked

Rumble x Reader, Frenzy x Reader

• Gasping, head back against Frenzy, you feel Rumble’s hands tighten on you. Pinned between them, toes curling as their spikes drive deep, you can feel yourself winding up again. Your thighs already trembling and slick. Wondering if they’re trying to kill you as Frenzy swears, rhythm faltering before he overloads inside you. Again. And just keeps bucking against you as Rumble’s mouth crashes against yours. Thigh lifting to try and hook against his hip before falling back down with a whimper when you can’t with Frenzy still deep inside you. You’re almost uncomfortably warm, skin slick with sweat as they vent raggedly, both of them running hot normally. Right now? You might as well be humping a space heater, their fans a constant hum mingling with their growls.

• Servos digging into your soft skin as he grinds against you to make you gasp, Frenzy nuzzles against the back of your neck, hips pumping lazily. Wanting to see how long you can keep up with them, and you’re fading fast. But still not asking for a break. Primus, he loves you. “Come for me again,” he growls in your ear, rocking his hips forward to press you more firmly into Rumble, his twin groaning. And those little, whimpers and moans of yours are stringing him tight. Their little shared mate so stubborn. Trying to outlast them. “One more. Give me one more.”

• Feels your nails scratch along the mesh of his neck as you arch, gasping and fisting his spike to make Rumble groan. Hips snapping against you, trying to drag it out a little longer as you squirm between them before he’s overloading and pinning you more firmly between them, shifting his plating. Hears Frenzy swearing at him, disgusted and not wanting to see his spark, but he doesn’t care. Snaring you and coaxing urgently. Aware he should discuss this with you and Frenzy. Make sure you’re all on the same page, but Starscream sparked his human. Has a sparkling and he wants one. Wants to spark you.

• Tangled in Rumble, you can feel his hips rocking, his spike still pulsing inside you as Frenzy slips free. You’re dimly aware of your other mate swearing at his twin for just whipping it out, but it’s hard to focus on anything but that euphoric coaxing. It’s like when they first bonded you one at a time, all of him tangling in all of you. Knowing each other completely as you hook your legs around his waist. That coaxing almost a question as you submit to it and it shifts. Becomes a demand, a pull. Too much. Squirming against him as it becomes uncomfortable, because he’s taking something and you’re panicking. Struggling.

• “Hey, you guys good?” Frenzy asks, servos wrapped around his spike waiting for Rumble to stop spark bonding you so he can frag you again. Except you’re struggling, moving fitfully as you groan. “Rumble, shop.” What’s that glitch doing to you? Grabbing your hips, he tugs and Rumble growls, but Frenzy manages to pull you off of Rumble’s spike and break the connection with his spark. Feels you trembling in his arms as he scowls at his twin. Who almost looks like he’s in shock. ‘What the frag? You sparked me?’ Rumble manages and Frenzy loses it laughing. His twin had tried to spark you and ended up the carrier? ‘What?’ You ask, sounding dazed.

[berracids]

The cassette twins are rotting my brain and I am not complaining.

[smallestapplin]

I love you so much, can I request hc’s of g1 Rumble and Frenzy being smitten for the same minibot, maybe have reader be one of Blaster’s cassettes too (like the protective dad he is even tho all his ‘kids’ are grown) thank you

:0!! My first Rumble and Frenzy request! Ohh I hope this is good! (Totally didn’t make myself simp.)

Nearly 2,000 words, I may have gotten lost in the sauce

Reader is gn!

-

-

* Truthfully they are easy and they refuse to admit that to anyone! You were just another one of Blaster’s annoyances, and they were ready to wipe the floor with you until they…didn’t, they failed miserably despite out numbering you, and you clapped back at them, mocking and taunting them into attacking so easily. They hated it, hated it so much as they ended up in a pile, Rumble tossed upon Frenzy and the two laying there groaning.

“You know, you two are cute when you’re not running your intakes.” It was nothing more than a backhanded compliment, so why did your annoying chuckle make their sparks thrum?

* and you do it every time too, a sweet chuckle here, maybe a condescending coo at them there, you even kissed their cheeks after throwing them through trees! They are moving up in the world.

* Rumble is the first to even admit it, he likes you he likes you a lot. You’re calm when fighting but your sass makes him swoon. Even he will admit when you throw insults at Skywarp he’s laughing the loudest and piling on them, which usually gives you a chance to escape the situation. Also the first to (accidentally) defend you when any other con insults you.

 

    “Ay’ you watch yer intake, dweeb! Just cause ya got yer aft beat by a bot less than your size is a skill issue on your part!”

* somehow it completely goes over majority of the cons helms what he really meant by that, thinking it was more out of minimech solidarity. But no, Rumble is smitten, so much so he can barely even fight with you, he throws ever match he has with you because the second your servos are on him he’s blushing and melting, even when you throw him into a cliff side he’s still love struck.

* He tries though! He wants to make it look believable, he wants to look cool for you and strong that he can’t be pushed around, and oh wow you’re glaring at him fiercely wow you’re really handsome and pretty-oh and there he goes, right into the ground.

* Rumble is a mess, he thinks he looks so cool when he yells out “Looking for trouble? Well look no further, cause here comes Rumble!” And is decked in an instant.

* He tries a few pick up lines when your fists cross paths, but he stumbles over his words and mixes up the order of them, but at least it gets a laugh out of you, so that’s a win for him!

* Frenzy is the exact opposite, when your fist collides with his face busting his dermas and his nose, he’s looking back at you with a wild gleam from his visor, and a dangerous sounding scratch from rewinding his tape, and in a flash he’s on you. He wants you to beat him, he wants you to fight him, he wants both of you to prove yourselves here and now! It’s only once you finally pin him, straddled on top of him, both of you ex-venting harshly and covered in spilt energon, does he pause for a moment, wondering if this is what those humans meant by angels as you look divine above him.

* “C’mon, you can hit harder than ‘dat! Yeah, yeah that’s it, give me all you got, doll!”

* Once he realizes his spark is thrumming loudly, he will ruin it by wriggling his servos free just to grab your hips with a smug smirk.

    

  “Lookin’ good like this, you ain’t too bad for an autonoob.”

You swear he is drooling, but you weren’t sticking around to find out.

* The two minicons make it their mission to find you in every battle, both just needing to see you! But it makes it easier to clock their little crush on you, the first to notice is Eject, he saw you off in the distance across the battlefield with Frenzy on your tail and Rumble ready to jump you from your blind spot, and he wasn’t about to let that happen. Once close enough he could hear them.

“What happened to all ‘dat fire you had? Ya know, yer’ kinda cute like ‘dis.”

“Frag off, let me go!”

“Easy, we ain’t gonna hurt ya’.”

Their tones were soft, bordering gentle for them, playful, as if talking to someone close and not the enemy, and oh Eject was NOT going to let that fly!

* Once you were freed from being pinned, Eject did not hesitate reporting back to Blaster, the larger mech already treating his cassettes as if his own sparklings despite working under him, the moment he heard of Eject’s findings he was already picking you up and making sure you were safe, even going as far as to take you to the medbay to ensure no trackers or anything was planted on you.

* When you got the clear, Blaster informed your brothers you were to never be alone with those menaces, they clearly took fighting a different way than intended and he was not risking anyone’s spark and safety because of them.

*

Frenzy and Rumble rant to each other about it too, “it’s always some loser comin’ in and keepin’ ‘em from us!” 

“Ta the scrap yard with ‘em! Those bozos keepin’ our sweetspark on a tighter leash just aint fair.”

* everytime they get close to you, Ramhorn plows right into them, or Steeljaw jumps in front of you, hissing wildly and taking bites out of them. But Rumble and Frenzy would much rather those two than Rewind and Eject, once those two get in the way it goes from a basic fight to an all out brawl as your fellow minibots are just as protective over you as Blaster is, and they make it known quickly the two minicons aren’t welcomed near you. It's the worst the two cons have ever ended up injured, but even as Soundwave frets over them, they look more determined than ever to win your spark.

* Even if you are on the enemy side, there is just a pull they feel for you, something about you just keeps dragging them to you, they can’t seem to let go of these festering feelings for you. It becomes clear something is up with them with how bad they are at hiding stuff, but Soundwave doesn’t have time to question them yet.

* It’s the same song and dance, until after one battle a prisoner is brought back to the Decepticon base, you. Seeing you being dangled by your pede, held up but a laughing Starscream nearly makes them rage, but they can’t, for once they feel stuck as they watch you thrash and spew curses at the laughing seeker.

* In that moment you were a prisoner, a bargaining chip to be used against the autobots. Tossed into a holding cell until Megatron was finished with his debriefing with Soundwave and Shockwave. With one look to each other, they knew what they needed to do.

“Great, it’s you two. Visiting hours are over.” You groan out, trying to remain strong as you narrowed your optics at them.

Rumble stands by the door frame leading outside, peering around the corner to make sure the coast was clear just before closing the door. You watch, expression slowly growing more confused as Frenzy opens your cell door and the two minicons rush to your side. You squeak as Frenzy manhandles you forward, showing more of your back and exposing your cuffed servos to Rumble.

“H-hey, what are you doing?”

“Hush,” Frenzy starts, “we’re gettin’ you outta here.”

You blink behind your visor, staring dumbly at the red and black minicon.

“You’re…helping me?”

“Well, tryin’, stupid slaggin’ stasis cuffs always a pain and for what?” Rumble grumbles under his breath.

You can’t stop the soft laugh that leaves you, enjoying his suffering just a little, until all three of you perked up at the sound of the cuffs unlocking and dropping to the floor below. Frenzy lets go of you, no longer needing to balance you, but offers a servo to help you up, which you hesitate in taking, but do so anywhere.

“Why are you two helping me?”

Rumble chokes on nothing, swifty looking away from you even if his cheeks flush a dark blue.

“A-ain’t fer nothin’! Don’t even worry about it, yer thinkin’ too hard about it.”

“Yeah, what this dork said. But stop talkin’ and start movin’ sweetspark!” Frenzy grabs your arm and yanks you along, making you stumble behind him with Rumble trailing right after you.

“Hey, hey! Easy with ‘em.”

“Either ‘dat or we stick around and get caught.”

You can’t fathom why they are helping you escape, you don’t understand what benefit this would give them when one slip up could lead to them getting in trouble, but you are grateful even if you are a little suspicious of them.

You reach blindly behind you, grabbing Rumble’s servo, and pull your arm back to hold Frenzy’s sero, giving both of them a gentle squeeze in a silent ‘thank you.’

Not even seeing the deep blush on Frenzy’s face plate as he scowls, or the fanning motion Rumble gives himself as his internal fans kick on and his frame slowly becomes covered in coolant out of nerves.

You feel bad for leaving when you three finally make it to the edge of the con base, where you can see Autobots slowly coming closer. Your commlink ringing to life as Blaster has been trying to comm you for ages now, but thanks to the cons base you never got them.

Looking back at the two minicons who are ushering you to go before it’s too late, you offer them a soft smile.

“Thank you both, I really owe you one after this.”

“Howzabout a date then?” Frenzy purrs, laughs at the shocked look on your (and Rumbles) face plate.

“A-a date?”

“Don’t listen to him! You ain’t gotta, Frenz here is just a-“

“What am I, huh? Go on, spit it out, you coward!”

The two begin to argue, getting in each other’s faces with so many swears you didn’t think half of them existed until then, but you can’t help but laugh, they are so oddly cute? So pathetic but it’s endearing? Your laugh catches them off guard, making them stop in their fighting.

“Ya know, maybe I will accept that date, if you can beat me next time we fight, that is.”

You’re rushing off and answering your comm before they can answer, leaving them dumbstruck and intakes agap. Slowly they look at each other before holding servos and shierking that it actually worked???? Hello???? Oh my primus they have made it in life????

* Blaster sobs that you’re alive and okay the second you answer your commlink, and the moment you are in his sights the larger bot is over you, picking you up with great care while your brothers pop up from his chassis and each of them checking on you.

* You’re fine, more than fine! But maybe you shouldn’t tell them that, you don’t think they’d be very pleased to hear you’ve fallen in love with the enemy, two of them in fact, and both the minicons to your boss’s rival.

*  But you can dream, can’t you? Your spark thrums when you see the two next, it’s hard not to when they look so excited at the sight of you. You have to bite back a chuckle watching them fight each other or trip over themselves to get to you first.

* These simps will do anything and everything for your attention, dont test that.

[jesuistrestriste]

hihi i hope you’re doing well!! tis me.. mommy issues!art anon.. >:3

mommy issues!art who is just so needy. he can’t help but melt into your touch after a long day, he’s completely pliable in your hands. he just wants mommy to hold him!! it’s not his fault that being cuddled by you leads to him eagerly shoving his tongue down your throat!! he just missed you!!

then he’s breaking away to beg, “please- mommy, can i?” while he paws at the neckline of your top. his desperate, wet eyes are too much, how could you ever say no? not that you’d ever pass up a nursing handjob, anyway…

(p.s. may i claim 🍼 anon… seemed fitting lol)

mommy issues!art anon hii:3 love to see you in my inbox again; this is so yummy.. also 🍼 is yours!

cw (18+) : sub!art, mommy kink, messy nursing hj, desperation/neediness

art immediately pushes your top up and over your breasts as soon as you give him permission, his blue eyes glazing over with unfiltered arousal. his cheeks are flushed the prettiest pink you’ve ever seen, and then you notice that his bottom lip is wobbling like he’s about to cry. it wouldn’t be the first time that tears were shed down his cheeks when faced with your nurturing dominance. you feel both sets of his fingers squeeze at your chest—thumbs rubbing circles over your pebbling nipples, whimpering when you stroke your fingers through his blonde curls. he’s stuck in a trance of some kind, it seems.

“go on, i said you could.”

those simple words of encouragement are all that he needs to be snapped out of his stupor and surge forward to take one of your tits into his warm, open mouth. he slathers your bud in his sweet spit, moaning with pinched-up brows and suckling like he’s expecting something to come out. it’s hard not to stick a hand down into your panties at the feeling of him working his tongue so greedily over your flesh.. and his whimpers aren’t helping. your touch tightens in his strands and pulls a high-pitched keen from his chest. he unlatches and looks up to you, pouting, afraid you’re about to cut him off.

“are you going to be a good boy for me, art?”

he shudders, his legs tensing.

“yes, mommy. whatever you want..”

“you want help?” your fingers tease the waistband of his sweats before dipping down into them and his boxer briefs, playing with the base of his swollen length. his eyes roll back the instant you make contact with him there, and you laugh breathily in response. he’s always this easy with you. you drag your nail against the pulsing vein that you feel bulging from the underside.

“ye—yeah, help—help me, please,” he mewls, lifting his hips to press further into your palm, “be good, ‘m gonna be so good, i need it..”

your hand moves and wraps around his cock without further pleading from the blonde curled against you. he’s already filthily covered in his own juices, so it’s easy to stroke him without feeling like you’re hurting him. he gives confirmation of that in the form of a instantaneous, shattered cry and an arching back. he clutches your tit harder before burying his face back into the other one, trying to muffle his pathetic sounds as you jerk him off in time with the hollowing of his cheeks around your bud. he laps at you for another minute before his pelvis starts to stutter and roll up into your fist. it’s normal for him to try to take what he needs, even if you’re already giving it to him exactly the way he likes it. you smirk.

“you wanna do it yourself?”

he sobs around your flesh, shaking his head and letting his eyes flutter open to look up to you. “nmph—mmm-mn—“

“okay, then calm down and let me finish you off. have some faith in me,” you tease.

art’s mouth parts into a slackened ‘O’ around your sensitive skin when you twist your wrist and begin working his aching tip, the wet sounds emanating from your motions only heightening his pleasure. his toes start to curl, his legs clamp shut, his breathing picks up rapidly. he nearly squeals at the sensation of your thumb playing with his glossy slit. he hates (loves) it when you do that.

“mmm-my—mmm-my—! mmmngh!”

it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what lewd nickname he’s murmuring around the mouthful of your plush breast. you bite your lower lip, letting out a stream of breathy moans to accompany his sounds, and stroke him faster. his eyes fly open wide before squeezing shut so tight that wrinkles appear at the outer corners. reaching your free hand up, you move to lightly trace his cheek, his brow, the bridge of his nose. such a pretty little toy.

“are you close?”

he nods.

“are you gonna come?”

he suckles harder, wails louder against you.

“you can come for me, baby. give me a big load.. show me how much you’ve been wanting this..”

three more flicks of your closed hand around his throbbing appendage and he’s gone—his lips detaching from you with a sharp, trembling gasp, a string of spit connecting to your body; his head falls into your lap as he bucks into your touch and feels several viscous streams of fluid spray from him and into his clothing, as well as between your moving fingers. it sticks between your digits like glue. he wails like he’s being taken apart by you, praying that you’ll put him back together afterwards, and you closely watch his abdomen flex with each orgasmic contraction—every single one followed by a puny whine of ecstasy.

you don’t stop pumping him until he begins to wheeze and jolt. it’d be unfair to expect him to vocalize his overstimulation, given how wrecked he is. your ministrations slow and then rest in a pause at the base. he catches his breath as best he can and winces when you accidentally force an aftershock from his spent dick. tugging your touch from his soiled bottoms, you look down to your hand that has become creamy with his frothed-up release.

“such a mess, artie,” you croon, showing it to him as he pants and gazes up to you with an unfocused stare, “did that feel good?”

a single nod is all that he can manage. his lips part a few moments later, trying to muster up the energy to tell you exactly what he wants to say.

thank you. i love you. i needed that. i needed you. please hold me.

but none of it comes.

he leans in and kisses your breast, giving one more languid lick over your nipple in hopes that it’ll get his point of gratitude across. once he’s got his bearings back, he’ll give you everything he has.

now, though, he just needs a moment in your arms.

“mommy,” he whispers. he swallows thickly after and tries to blink away the wetness stinging his vision. it'd be embarrassing if he was with anyone but you.

you caress his jaw, give him a soft smile.

that’s all you really need to hear.

tags : @voidsuites @asheepinfrance @fawnnpaws @artstennisracket @andyrambles @imperishablereverie @ghostgirl-22 @lexiiscorect @cha11engers @patricksbf @newrochellechallenger2019 @pittsick @blastzachilles @oncefaist @tacobacoyeet

[minzart]

That's what happens when my Playlist lands on "casanova". Still can't belive there isn't an Soundwave&cassettes mod for this game

[Still image bellow]