#post-rumbling

[annawayne]

Okay, I didn't except some of you want to read this speech separately from the fic, so, uhm, here it is.

So here we are, Armin's speech!

p.s. the setting is 10 years after the Rumbling and 8 years into his Ambassador work.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I do not come here as a soldier, a Commander, a savior, or a hope of humanity. I am here not for the morals speeches and lies, not for the glory or the selfish desire, I am standing in front of you as a human with the same wishes, the same heart, and the same blood in my veins. I am not here to tell you about the past or how ten years ago our lives were changed forever, I am not here to teach you how to treat the wounds all of us carrying - visible or not. And we gather here today not as conquerors or victors, not victims or fighters, we are here as survivors and seekers of a better world.” Armin pauses for a heartbeat, gliding with his gaze over the crowd, another pull of air into his lungs to push the words. “Today, we are called the saviors of humanity, Ambassadors of Peace, but we know the truth. This title doesn’t belong only to us, but to the courage, faith, and support of each one of you who believed in us and stood by our side in the ruins of what once was called civilization. It’s for the agony and sweat of the human spirit, the bleeding hearts and horrors of war, it’s for the brave refusal to submerge in despair. All of you are true heroes and ambassadors of peace, the ones who could propose to the world the persistence of the common faith that after the darkest times, there is always light, not from the sun or stars, from torches or lamps, but in all of us. For the past eight years, we fought a different kind of battle, that was all new for us - for people who knew all their lives the smell of blood and powder better than the odor of home-baked bread or the first odor of flowers after the frosty air of the winter. Our arms become the words and understanding, the dialogue, as our great weapon for the lasting peace.”

[mirrorsblogs]

𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐚 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐋. 𝐀𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙣𝙞𝙘! 𝙢𝙖𝙟𝙤𝙧 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝, 𝙨𝙥𝙤𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙖𝙤𝙩 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 132+

It was quiet in his apartment in Marley. Rarely anyone visited so that left Levi in his own presence. This resembled much of his life, alone always. Today he chose to read a small book on the wondrous concept of time travel. It fascinated him to no end so you could imagine his annoyance when he heard knocking at the door.

“Go away!” He yelled out, hoping the person would go away but the knock grew louder until he could no longer ignore it. Levi marched up to the door expecting one of the 104th brats to be standing there but instead, he found a peculiar girl with a notebook in hand.

“Hi is this the residence of Mr. Ackerman?” Mia asked.

“Whose asking?” Levi retorted, turning defensive in an instant.

“Mikasa told me to come here. She said you could answer my questions about my father’s sibling.” She outstretched her hand but Levi declined to shake it.

“Whose your father’s sibling?” Levi asked, annoyed at her vague answers.

“Hange Zoe. My name’s Mia Zoe,” she said. Levi dropped the book that was in his hand and stared for a long time at Mia. Sure Hange had told him stories about the three-year-old niece she had but he had assumed her family wanted no contact with him.

“You can come in,” Levi whispered, sidestepping and allowing the girl to come in.

“You have a nice home.”

“Thanks.” There was an awkward silence that Levi attempted to fill. “Do you want tea?”

“Sure, thank you.” She nodded at him in thanks and continued to observe his humble abode. There were few belongings but the space felt lived in somehow. The shelves were lined with different photographs ranging from the rolling tides to portraits of what Mia assumed to be fallen comrades.

“That one’s Hange,” Levi said. His finger pointed to a portrait Kirchstein had drawn of Hange for him. Levi remembers the young soldier telling him it was to help him never forget their faces.

“They’ve got a nose like mine!” Mia laughed a little at Levi’s bewildered expression. “Sorry, everyone in my family has smaller noses but mine’s unique.”

“You act like Hange,” Levi grunted while handing Mia a teacup. “They were fascinated by every little thing.”

“Oh,” Mia whispered. Her family had refused to discuss Hange after their death in the Rumbling, this was the first piece of information she had heard about the mysterious family member. They both sat on Levi’s couch and he waited for a question.

“What’d you wanna ask?”

“What were they like?”

“Go away, four-eyes.” Levi flipped through some mindless paperwork.

“Not until you look at this!” Hange shoved a paper in front of Levi’s face. He sighed and pushed the paper away. “Please shorty!”

“Fine!” Levi snatched the paper from Hange’s hand. The paper was on Eren’s titan ability and some finer details Hange had noticed. It was interesting but Levi would never let Hange know that.

“Well?” Hange drawled out.

“I already knew this,” Levi growled out, shoving the paper against Hange’s chest. He resumed his paperwork and tried to ignore the laughing from Hange who enjoyed pissing Levi off so much.

“Oh well,” Hange loudly sighed. “I guess I’ll have to show you tomorrow’s report and if that doesn’t work then the day after that and the day after that and the-”

“Get. Out.” Levi gripped his black pen hard in his hand to the point where it snapped in half.

“Have fun shorty!” Hange yelled out, but not before leaving the paper on Levi’s desk which infuriated him even further.

“Infuriating but funny at the same time.”

“Meet Sawney and Beane!” Hange introduced Levi to the captured Titans. Moblit stood a few paces behind her with a tired look in his eyes at his superior’s antics.

“You named them?” Levi questioned, keeping a good distance from the greedy beings.

“Of course!” Hange ran up to Sawney and threw their arms around the neck of the Titan.

“Section commander!” Moblit yelled out before Sawney tried to move its head to bite out Hange. The section commander expertly dodged but not before petting the titan on the head and landing next to Levi.

“That happen often four-eyes?” Levi snarkily asked. He crossed his arms over his chest, unimpressed at the scene before him.

“They’re just energetic today!” Hange began to loudly laugh maniacally until they dissolved into coughing. “Anyways you can tell Erwin he’ll have a daily report and briefing.”

Levi nodded, accomplishing his purpose in coming here, and began to head out before Hange stopped him. He glared directly into Hange’s eyes before they spoke again.

“Make sure to add that in the briefings it would be nice to have some of the captains there,” Hange smirked at Levi’s annoyed expression. It was too easy to mess with the shorter man.

“Fuck you, shitty glasses,” Levi whispered as he stomped away.

“Bye, captain!” Hange called out while laughing.

“Had a knack for science and an affinity for Titans if you’d believe it.”

“Nobody ever stays by your side forever.” Hange looked down at their new desk. Commander of the Survey Corps. The death of their entire squad weighed heavily on their mind.

“I’m visiting Erwin’s grave today, did you want to join?” Levi asked. He dropped some paperwork onto the new commander’s desk.

“I need to get out of here,” Hange whispered, grabbing their coat and already heading out the door. The walk was silent as they finally made it to the shared graveyard of most of the Corps' dead soldiers. Matching gray gravestones lined the yard as they both quickly found the new plots and found who they wished to mourn for that day.

Levi stared a moment at Erwin’s stone, he picked out the engraving himself since Erwin had no family. Leader, Commander, Visionary. It was cheesy. He said some things in his head that he hoped would reach Erwin before lifting his head to Hange a few graves away.

“Thank you, friend,” they whispered. Levi watched Hange kneel to touch the gravestone before standing back up and dusting off their uniform. He noted the slumped posture in their shoulders like they had lost a reason to remain upright. Like Hange had lost the reason to remain poised.

“We have to make their sacrifices worth it. That’s our duty to them,” Levi said. Those sentiments had gotten through difficult times as well, through losing his friends, through losing his entire squad.

“We ride past the walls in a few months, it’ll be worth it,” Hange whispered. They removed their glasses for a moment and wiped their eyes. “I should head back, I got loads of paperwork to do.”

They attempted to laugh but it came out as pathetic. Levi nodded his head and followed silently behind them. Their shared walks had rarely ever been this quiet, usually filled with Hange’s rambling and Levi’s annoyed comments. He thought he would enjoy the silence but instead, it felt suffocating. He prayed inside his mind Hange would say something, anything that would tick him off but they said nothing.

“Check in on who survived. Historia demanded they all get psych evals.”

“Ok,” Levi replied. The lack of nicknames mixed in with their conversations unnerved him. Then again, out of their whole group, it was now just the two of them left, there was no one else to joke around with. How depressing.

“They were never the same after we went back to Shinganshina the first time. It was only Hange and me that survived out of the rest of the higher ranked in the Survey.”

“Is that why they stopped journaling during that time?”

“Journaling?” Levi asked.

“Yeah, Hange kept all sorts of journals in our family house. My parents wanted to throw it away but I kept them. Here’s one.” Mia handed the journal to Levi. He flipped through the pages and spotted his name a few times but saw the entries abruptly stop around the time they got back from Shiganshina.

“They became commander after we got back, more work and all.” Levi paused. “The writing probably reminded them of Moblit too.”

“Moblit?”

“He was sort of a research partner to Hange. Sacrificed himself for them to survive on that expedition.”

“Thank you for this information,” Mia said. She quickly jotted down some notes in another notepad she pulled from seemingly nowhere.

Just like Hange.

“Did you see Hange off in their final moments? All the historical accounts said you did.”

“I-” Levi paused. Memories he wished to submerge into the crevices of his soul bubbled up.

“Hey…four eyes,” Levi said, his face was forlorn.

“You understand. It feels like…it’s finally here, you know? My big moment. I want to look as cool as I possibly can right now so just let me walk away,” Hange whispered as Levi blocked their way. Sweat palpitated on their forehead as they stared at the ground, avoiding eye contact with the beings who would most likely take her life in a few mere moments.

“Dedicate your heart,” Levi whispered. His fist collided on Hange’s chest, over their heart. He faced away from the colossal, the very beings that would take away the last of his comrades that he once knew.  He began to walk away but heard a joyful Hange turn back around at Levi’s words.

“Ha! That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you say that!” Hange yelled out with joy, genuine joy, in their voice. None of that produced happiness to put on a front for people Hange had practiced in the past few months. It was real, it was tangible. It was behind Levi as he continued to walk away from the last semblance of normality in his life. Hange was a constant, despite everyone dying around him, he had Hange Zoe. That was gone, however. Levi wondered for a moment what living without a constant felt like, he figures he will know in a few moments.

“Ah, titans truly are magnificent,” Hange whispered to themself. Their final words were heard only to the skies.

Levi watched from the battered airship multiple colassals go down, more than any other person could manage. It was incredible to see the extent of Hange’s determination in action. He stared at the retreated scene, spotting a ball of fire descend from a titan. Hange. He turned his head away, they flew too close to the sun. If anyone could have done that it would have been Hange, the one who never understood boundaries.

Levi considered depicting those last moments with Hange but decided to save it for another time. It was too depressing for anyone to hear, it was a wonder he could shoulder that trauma alone.

“I have to head to the market but you’re welcome to stop by anytime.” Levi got up from the couch and began to put the tea cups into his sink. Mia got up as well and gathered her things including the journal Levi left on the table. She thought she had pushed the man too far but thought this was the best method, it is what Hange advised in their journal on how to get to know the allusive Levi Ackerman.

“I’ll take you up on that, hey has anyone ever told you that you’re short?” Mia asked, genuinely curious. She leaned up against the kitchen doorway.

“Get out.” Levi stopped his scrubbing into the dishes and stared directly into her eyes.

“Right sorry!” Mia raced out the door but Levi could hear her laughter faintly down the hall.

Yeah just like Hange.

[lowpolyanimals]

Cyndaquil from Pokémon Rumble World

[pinkanonwrites]

"Oh! That's What That Does?!"

All art by @archie-sunshine

G1 Rumble/ Mechanic Reader - 2400+ Words NSFW, Valveplug, Plug 'N Play, Mild Sparkplay, Accidental Stimulation, Edging, Human Reader, GN Pronouns

Ahh, the inherent eroticism of repairing your machine.~ I've had this one cooking for a while, so I hope you all enjoy! I've also gotten pretty attached to this mechanic Reader, so they'll likely pop up again with other cassettes (and maybe even some other Decepticons!)

NSFW WRITING AND IMAGERY BELOW THE CUT!

“Ey… EY! Careful wit’ dat! It’s touchy!”

“Rumble,” You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You're making this way more difficult than it needs to be.”

“I wouldn't be complainin’ if you'd stop touchin’ all up on bits that don't gotta be touched! Rootin’ around in there like I'm one’a your crappy organic machines!”

Removing your hands from Rumble’s open chest, you tossed them roughly into the air. “Y'know what? Fine. Do it yourself. Better yet, get Frenzy to pull the shrapnel out of your chest. That'll go great.”

You would have slid off of Rumble’s lap and stormed off, if not for his massive servos closing around your wrists with an unexpected delicacy. Your efforts to remove your hands only reinforced his grip, using just enough force to keep you from leaving without crushing your wrists entirely.

“H-Hey, no need ta be so hasty! Look, I’m just steamed cause'a the battle, dat’s all. Frenz’ can't do dis, it's gotta be someone more… dainty. Y’know. Little human hands and all dat.” The harsh glow of his visor had dulled slightly as his gaze cast down to your hands. You rolled your eyes, wrists finally slipping from his grip as you settled back in. 

Dangling wires and sparking shrapnel dotted his open chest cavity, illuminated by the light of his spark chamber. Rumble had staggered off-balance into your workshop whining about the prodding pieces of broken metal keeping him from transforming properly, yet you’d barely managed to get two wires back in place before he started squirming and whingeing and slinging verbal abuse at you.

 Not that you weren't used to it, any interactions with Rumble and Frenzy usually involved some level of bullying. Fortunately, the two cassettes are also incredibly predictable. As soon as you would threaten to take away or withhold what they're asking for, they’d start falling all over themselves with apologies and placations. After all, you may not have been the only mechanic in the area, but you were certainly their favorite.

“Are you going to actually let me work? Or are you going to start yelling at me again?”

“Yellin’? Who's yellin’? Yer the mechanic here, my spark is in your squishy little hands. Do your magic, doc.” He sat back again, servos clutching the edges of your workbench in a show of effort, a genuine attempt to keep them still (or however genuine any show of rule-following from Rumble could be.)

“That's what I thought. Now let me actually fix a few things before you start whining again.” Your gloved hands dipped back into his chest cavity, skirting the edges of his spark chamber to pick away at the bits of loose shrapnel stuck in some of the wires. His frame shuddered, a hiss of steam escaping through his dentae as your knuckles brushed the underside of the spark casing.

“C-Careful,” He said again, with significantly less bite to his tone.

“Does it hurt?”

“Somethin’ like dat.”

“I'll be careful, so let me know if it gets to be too much.” You smoothed a palm down the armor covering his stomach, flinching back when you heard another sharp hiss of steam.

“I’m fine! It's fine! Just… do ya gotta be all on top’a me like dis?”

“I can't reach properly if you're laying down. If you're standing you might keel over on me, and I really don't feel like being squished to death today.” He let out a low grumble as you jacked another cable back into its proper port. “I'll try to be quick, that way you won't have to worry about my ‘human germs’ and you can get outta here. Deal?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just-”

“Be careful. I know.”

And with that you went to work, separating and organizing cables, taping off leaky tubing and removing pieces of scrap metal as gently as you could. Every once in a while Rumble would jerk or twitch beneath your touch, letting out a muffled curse or huff but sparing you from his usual complaints. It was… uncharacteristically quiet, for sure. This was the most extensive repair you'd ever done on him, though, so maybe he was just having surgery jitters.

“Okay, I've gotten most of the shrapnel out. But there's a piece right behind your spark casing.”

“Well? Get it outta there!”

“I'm going to, but I need to get my whole hand in there. I'm warning you now because it's going to be bumping up against your spark casing a lot. I'm going to do my best but you have to tell me if it hurts too much.”

Rumble let out a long, pathetic groan. “Actually doc, maybe you can just leave dat one in there? F-For funsies?”

“Eh?! Rumble, I’m not gonna just ‘leave it in there’! It's gotta come out.”

“Something's gonna come out if you keep proddin’ around in there like dat…”

“What was that?”

“Gh! Nothin’! Don't worry ‘bout it!”

“...Okay. I’m gonna start now. Are you ready?” Rumble only responded with gritted dentae and a tense nod. Working your gloved hand under his spark chamber, you could feel the ambient energy making the hairs on your arm stand on end as you felt for the jagged edge of broken metal. Your glove blocked your view entirely, so you were left blindly groping your way up the metal surface, feeling for anything bent or out of place. When your fingers could no longer reach any further while still avoiding the casing, you slid forward and ducked slightly into Rumble’s open chest, the back of your hand pressing up against the underside of his spark chamber.

CLANG!

You jumped, and if it weren't for Rumble’s arm wrapping around you and almost crushing you into his open chest you may have jostled the sensitive chamber even further. You slid your hand back again, easing off of the reinforced glass, and his grip receded.

“What the hell was that? And what was that clang?”

“I said don't worry ‘bout it!” He hissed, voice glitchy with static. “Everythin’s totally normal, I dunno why you're getting all jumpy ‘bout- MMNGH?!” You moved your hand up again into the same position, and Rumble let out an embarrassingly high whimper. You glanced up at his face, a flush of pink behind the usual grey and beading with coolant… and something clicked.

“Oh my God are you getting off on this?”

“N-No!”

Behind you you heard a sharp snikt, and the sound of pressurizing hydraulics.

“...Maybe?”

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

“H-Hey, don't go gettin’ a big head or nothin’! A bot’s spark chamber is sensitive! Don't go thinkin’ this is cause of your squishy frame or your soft little digits or nothin’!” He seemed to almost shrink in on himself, face plate practically glowing as his shoulders pulled up around his helm. You'd never say it to his face, but he looked surprisingly… small, at this moment. You heaved an exhausted sigh.

“Okay. Okay. I'm going to get this last piece out, alright? It's the last one. And whatever happens while I'm doing that..? It just happens. We won't bring it up again, no need to be embarrassed. Deal?”

“‘Deal?!?’” He squawked, positively scandalized. “How do I know yer not gonna gossip with Frenz’ the next time he's in for a tune-up?”

“Well Frenzy usually never lets me get a word in edgewise, first of all.” You huffed. This was way more than you'd signed up for. “I'm not going to make fun of you, Rumble. Let’s just get you patched up, then you can head home. Okay?”

His mouth was pulled into a tight, wobbly frown as he glanced down at you, choking out a single word. “...Promise?”

“I promise.”

“...Slag. alright, let's get dis over with.” He lolled his head back against the table with a clank, resigning himself to his fate. This time, when your knuckles brushed his spark casing, he couldn’t stifle his soft moan. Your fingers felt further and further up, until almost your entire hand was behind the glass bubble containing his pulsing spark. Finally, you could feel the jagged piece of metal. You wrapped your fingers around it and gave it an experimental tug. It stuck fast, and your hand bumping against Rumble's spark only pulled another surprised moan from him.

“W-Watch it!” He yelped, sounding too fucked-out to come across as actually threatening.

“It's really stuck in there. I'm going to start working it out, so let me know if you need me to stop.”

“Wh… workin’ it out? Whadda ya- ohhh…~” 

With your thumb and forefinger gripping the edge of the broken metal, you began to wiggle it gently back and forth to ease it from the plating and wires around it. Each time you moved the back of your hand rubbed up against the far side of his spark chamber, warmth radiating through your glove as Rumble started to vent more harshly.

“Slag… slag! Don't think it's ever been touched back there before. Feels… feels crazy.” He moaned. The metal of your work table shrieked and crumpled like cardboard under his iron grip, desperate to keep his servos off of himself or, Primus forbid, you. The piece stuck firm, and as you braced your other hand against the outside paneling of his chest to readjust your balance he let out a sharp, staticky yelp. “S-STOP!”

You froze immediately. “Are you okay? What's wrong?”

A few shuddering vents were your only response for a moment, Rumble’s visor lights flickering frantically as he tried to steady himself. “Whooo… Almost blew my top for a second there.”

“Seriously?”

“Hey! Yer the one that told me to tell ya if I need ya to stop! I'll be slagged to the Pit before I let some ‘squishy’ run my charge like dat.”

“...Can I start again? I’m making some progress here.”

“...Y-Yeah. Yeah. Yer good.”

You let out another soft sigh, trying to focus on the rhythmic sktch sktch sktch of metal on metal rather than Rumble’s shivering whines. His vocalizer pitched and warbled with static, attempts to stifle his own words slowly giving way to a deluge of fucked-out babbles.

“Ah! Gh! Ohh, mmnh, stupid little hands feelin’ all- nnh!~ Jus’ get it outta there! Please?”

I’m working on it. You’re doing good, just hang in there.” Your placations only resulted in another desperate moan. After what couldn’t have been more than another thirty seconds or so, he blurted out again.

“Ah! Stop!”

You retracted your hand for a moment, letting Rumble gasp for breath above you in a futile attempt to cool his core. You rubbed at his chest paneling as he shivered beneath you hard enough that you thought bolts were going to start coming undone. Even the paneling you were seated upon was burning up, heat seeping through the fabric of your coveralls. His glowing face plate was slick with coolant. Without thinking, you reached up and swept away a bead of it with your thumb, making him jump.

“H-Hey, quit dat…” He groaned, all bite lost from his tone.

“Rumble… The more you keep stopping me the longer this is going to take.”

“You think I don’t know dat?!” One of his arms draped dramatically over his face. “I’m tryin’! But you just keep pokin’ around in there and it’s all touchy and it’s makin’ me feel like my spike’s gonna burst and I can’t take it anymore!” He sniffled. Could Cybertronians even sniffle? You weren’t sure, but he sounded close to tears.

“Rumble… Have you ever actually edged yourself before?”

“Whu- Whuh? How’s dat any of yer business?”

“I’m just thinking…” You ran a placating hand down his shivering plating. “If you haven’t it can be really overwhelming, and-”

“I can handle it! I-I can!”

“Let me finish. It can be really overwhelming, and I don’t want you to hurt yourself further. Just… take a deep breath for me, okay?” You took a slow, steadying breath, and after a second he mimicked it. “Good. Just think about letting go, okay? I’m not going to judge you. Just think about it.”

He let out a low, pitying grumble, peeking at you from behind his arm plating. “...You can start again.”

Once again, your hands dipped into his chest cavity. Only this time you slid both hands up behind his spark casing, gripping as much of the broken metal as you could reach. As you rocked it back and forth Rumble’s moans returned with a fervor, one servo finally flying to cup your lower back.

“Ah! Ah! Slag, oh slag please! Please don’t stop I’m so fraggin’ close.” He fisted the back of your uniform, crumpling the cheap fabric between his digits. “C’mon, c’mon c’mon c’mon I need it!”

“Shh, I’ve got you baby. Just let it happen.”

With a metallic shriek and a gush of brackish oil the shrapnel popped free, the force enough to send you sprawling if not for Rumble’s servo in the small of your back. Of course, said unexpected force also slammed the backs of both your hands right into the underside of his spark chamber, and Rumble’s voice box screeched into a wail of radio static. Something hot and sticky splattered up the back of your coveralls; said something you decidedly were not going to look at until later. His frame rattled and shivered beneath you, steam venting and joints glitching and spark pulsating a near-blinding glow.  Finally, after a burst of noise and sparks and twitching, he went slack beneath you, helm clanking against the workbench as his optics flickered.

As delicately as you could, you removed the oil-slick shrapnel and let it clatter onto the floor before shedding your gloves and dabbing at his face plate with the cuff of your sleeve. With the whir of an old monitor blipping back to life, his visor blinked back up to its standard brightness.

“Whuh… Wheh?” He garbled.

“How you feeling, hun?”

“Like I got struck by lightnin’... but in like a nasty way.”

You choked back a snort. “Well, I’ve got all the worst of it over with. Feel free to rest for a while if you need it. I’m gonna go change my jumpsuit.” 

He let you slide off his lap without a fight, not even commenting until you’d turned around to make your way over to your office. Only then did he let out a low, salacious whistle when he’d finally caught sight of the back of your uniform.

“Comm me next time yer free, doc. Then I can repay da favor.”

[mblue-art]

BAD SANSUARY // [14] tears for owl-bones's event !

"...Killer, it just looks like I have running mascara."

"it's such a look though."

messy kisses and post-nuzzles

[hailpacino]

what can i say? *twirling my hair*

[aluvian]

Happy Tits Out Tuesday

[theysangastheyslew]

I love the postwar tea shop concept the same as everyone but I think I enjoy this idea just as much ♥️

AU below the cut so carry on if that's not your jam :3

Bonus because why not:

Had a mighty need for canon Mama's Boy™ Levi Ackerman to hear someone say Kuchel would have been proud of him 😭

[halfspark]

double trouble halloween special

[driftsart]

everytime i see rumble and frenzy i go

Babies.

[mirrorsblogs]

𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒃𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚? 𝑳. 𝑨𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒂𝒏

The soft click of his cane kept Levi awake enough to endure his walk back home. The market usually was never busy when he had gone previously but it was a weekend morning. His apartment building was modest but he could afford a lot more if would have liked his pension from the military.

“This will do.” He said over and over even after Gabbi and some of the others tried to get him to move to another area. The stairs up to his apartment were always the most difficult but he managed until a helping hand came from seemingly nowhere.

“Let me help you,” a woman said from beside him. He glanced to the right and noted her clothing and features almost instantly.

“Thanks,” Levi muttered after he arrived at the top of the stairs. He did not look back until the woman kept following him even as he tried to make his way to his apartment. On edge he prepared himself to fight her until he heard keys jingling.

“It looks like we’re neighbors,” the woman said, smiling directly at him.

“It looks like,” Levi voiced, monotone and already over this interaction. When Levi entered his apartment he stared glumly at the calendar as he saw he was getting a visit from Mikasa today. She always gets on my case about making friends.

He flinched when he heard a loud bang on the wall he shared with that mysterious woman. There was a moment where his eyes flitted around the room, searching for the weapon, the enemy, anything before he was reminded of his surroundings. Home.

Levi walked quietly to his balcony that faced the sea, it was the one thing he truly cherished about the apartment. His old neighbors could never stand to be outside so he had this area all to himself. He spent the time simply staring at the color of the sea, still in awe. The color always reminded me of something I could just never remember.

“Would you mind if I put some plants out here?” Levi turned to find his ‘friendly’ neighbor outside with a pot full of some strange plant in her hands.

“It’s fine,” He bristled, trying to get out of the conversation.

“Ok well I’ll be growing some spices if you ever want some,” the woman excitedly replied while setting down the pot. Levi nodded instead of responding and returned his attention to the sea. It could have been hours that he spent looking but he finally got up when there was a knock on the door.

“Captain,” Mikasa smiled at him but he turned away. 

“I’m not a captain anymore, remember? I’m the one Scout that got to retire.” His tone was harsh but Mikasa paid no mind to it as she set down some bags of gifts on his counter.

“Old habits die hard,” she gave Levi a small smile as she began unloading the gifts in the bag. “Your visit to the island is coming up soon, anyone you want to take?”

“No,” his answer was quick as he sat down on one of the counter chairs.

“You stand to make some friends, it’s not going to hurt you.” Mikasa sighed.

It already has hurt me. Levi kept that to himself as he stared at his niece again with some envy. He envied the people she still had, the position she worked to get herself into, her life. 

“I talked to my neighbor.”

“That’s good,” Mikasa said with a smile on her face. Levi shook his head at the thought of him even remotely speaking to someone bringing Mikasa into a good mood. “Oh Jean finished this for you.”

Levi took the small frame in Mikasa’s outstretched hand into his palm and looked at it through his one good eye. There was a man in the center who had blonde hair in a well styled side-parted comb over but the real star of the show was his eyes. The blue eyes captured Levi’s attention the most as he stared into them. Erwin.

“Give him my gratitude,” Levi whispered, clutching the frame with everything he had in him.

“Ok,” Mikasa paused as she silently stared at the longing expression on Levi’s face, “Why don’t I make us some tea?”

“No, you always mess it up.” Levi got up quickly, pocketing the frame in his coat and walked with his cane to the kitchen. He shooed Mikasa away who took the time to put away all the gifts everyone had gotten him.

“Armin got you a new map of Paradis,” Mikasa said as she unrolled the map.

“Put it with the others,” Levi said, distracted by stirring the tea in the pot. Mikasa sighed and put the map with the others, in a hamper. He could never stand to look at a map of the island, too many memories of past fights, battles, and massacres.

“Historia gave you an invitation for a tour around the island.” She held up the encrusted envelope.

“I decline, you know why I’m going back there anyways.”

“Grumpy old man,” Mikasa muttered under her breath.

“I heard that!” They both sat down at the counter and sipped on their tea quietly with Levi in contemplation. 

“You know next month marks three years since it happened.” She ran her finger on the rim of the teacup trying to avoid eye contact with Levi.

“Feels like it was so long ago,” Levi’s voice whispered gruffly.

“What if you came back with me? To the island?” Levi sighed at her words.

“I’m fine here,” Levi muttered.

“I know but then you could visit them everyday,” Mikasa said.

“And live in my grief?” He scoffed.

“You already do.” This is why Levi hated when Mikasa visited, why he hated when anyone would visit. They always tried to goad him into admitting that he was never truly good after the war. That he had developed that new disorder everyone got diagnosed with, PTSD. There was a silence after Mikasa spoke and Levi just stared straight down, removed from the conversation already. His mind was afloat somewhere else and Mikasa sighed before taking the tea saucers into the sink.

“I’ll make a friend, how about that?” In truth, Levi was tired of being alone.

“Thank you,” she said. “Really, thank you for trying.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t you have a boat to catch?” Levi got up from his seat and walked Mikasa to the door.

“Just send a letter and if anything happens you know Gabbi is in the area, right?”

“Mikasa.”

“Going. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Levi sighed at her antics and turned around to his empty apartment. The sun bled into his living room from the balcony which he once again returned to though this time instead of the sea he stared at it was that frame. He had nearly forgotten how Erwin looked, were his eyes always that far apart? But those eyes.

He stared again at the blue in his eyes and it reminded him so perfectly of the sea in front of him.  Levi lifted the frame to where the sea line was for him and looked back and forth between both until his eyes could take it no longer. The same shade and all, it fits together so perfectly. Maybe this was why Levi loved the sea and took pleasure in even staring at it. Levi decided right then and there the color of the sea was his new favorite color, always.

“Do you think garlic would be too much for this garden?” Levi turned to find his neighbor hunched over some pots. He was about to reply with an uninteresting response until he paused and looked down at the portrait in his hands. Make friends.

“Garlic is a staple in lots of recipes, it would be good,” Levi said, louder than he intended too but she did not seem to mind.

“Mara.” The woman held her hand out to Levi who got up from his chair and approached the edge of his balcony.

“Levi.”

“Good to meet you, Levi. Would you mind helping me decide a little more?” Mara laughed in embarrassment at her cluelessness but Levi found it somewhat endearing.

“No, I don’t mind.” 

“Usually Josie would do this kind of thing,” Mara muttered while looking down at the pots glumly.

“Josie?” Levi looked quizzically over her.

“She was my friend?” Mara scratched the back of her head, trying to think of a way to describe their relationship or change the topic. “What’cha got there?”

“It’s a frame of a friend of mine, Erwin.” Levi held it up to her which was strange since he was usually so guarded, he thought it might have been the excitement of meeting a new person.

“Same type of friend as mine?” Levi paused in thought for a moment. What were he and Erwin? Certainly partners in crime but lovers? 

“It’s complicated. He passed away a long time ago.” Levi placed the frame back in his coat pocket.

“In the war? Same with Josie.”

“Yeah.” He forgot for a moment that Mara most likely served on the other side of the war he was fighting. The soldiers he killed without meaning or moral were her friends and family though the same could be said vice versa.

“Took too much from everyone,” Mara said while shaking her head. Levi did not respond but instead asked again about her plant arrangement which thankfully changed the subject. 

“Maybe move the pepper away from that?” He pointed with his good hand towards a pot on her balcony.

“Ok that’s it! We’re done!” Mara clapped her hands together in excitement at her finished garden.

“I should head back inside. Have a nice day Mara,” Levi said.

“You as well.”

Levi returned to his empty apartment once more feeling strangely more alive. He has not felt this in decades, not even with Hange and Erwin which was painful to admit. He had never been at peace like this, so content and secure in life. Levi Ackerman, after years of fighting, was finally ready to accept stability for the first time.

Good.

[r-truth]

[pinkanonwrites]

Repaying The Favor

G1 Rumble/ Mechanic Reader - 4600+ words NSFW, Valveplug, Miscommunication, First Time, Oral Sex, AFAB Reader - They/Them Pronouns for reader

The sequel to "Oh! That's What That Does?!" is finally here! Same reader, same Rumble, same trying to figure each other out, only this time they get to slam down crazy-style about it. When will Frenzy get his turn in the spotlight? Eventually, I think! Maybe once I've finished a few other pet projects.

NSFW WRITING BELOW THE CUT!

It had been exactly fifteen days since you had last heard from Rumble. 

Not that you’d been counting.

Sure, the cassettes probably had more important things to do than lounge around your workshop waiting for your attention, but that's exactly why it was so odd. They always had better things to do, things that they were pointedly avoiding doing by barging in on your work and taking up what little free space the shop had remaining. But since your little tryst with Rumble, you hadn't seen armor nor optic of any of the usual cassette bot suspects.

Maybe you'd broken some sort of ancient, space robot taboo that you'd never heard of. Or maybe Rumble was just embarrassed that he jizzed all over your jumpsuit. Either way, it wasn't like you had any way of getting ahold of them besides them dropping in, so there wasn't much to be done about the situation but wait.

You were leaving the corner store when you heard it, the cacophonous boom of a jet flying far too close to the tips of the skyscrapers overhead. The sound sent you reeling, bags crumpling to the sidewalk as you hurried to cover your ears. Down the street you could make out the screech of metal smacking against metal, see the flailing limbs of two massive robots staggering clumsily through the street as they traded blows with each other. Neither of them were one you recognized, the red Autobot with the oversized chest window wrestling one of the identical jet Decepticons into a clumsy headlock. As they stumbled about one of them trampled on a car parked along the curb, and you winced as the metal shrieked and crumpled under his massive foot.

Yeah, time to get out of here. You gathered up your bags and ducked into the alley between the buildings, slipping past trash bags and old graffiti, trying not to tread in any unidentifiable puddles. Off in the distance you could hear an emergency siren start to wail, hopefully signaling that whatever the space robots were quarreling over this time would be settled sooner rather than later. All you really wanted was to get back home without any further interruptions.

But as you emerged from the back alley entrance and found yourself hoisted into the air by two massive metal hands around your waist, you'd decided to kiss that chance goodbye. Your bags clattered to the ground once more, bread and fruit and canned goods spilling out around a familiar pair of pedes. When you glanced up to his faceplate, the glow of his visor was nearly enough to blind you.

“Rumble?!”

His visor dimmed enough that you could see his intake, which had just before been pulled into a maniacal grin, drop open in visible shock. Then, as quick as it came, it was gone, replaced instead with a tight, furrowed frown. 

“What’re you doin’ out here?” He barked.

“Buying food. Or trying to, at least.” You glanced over his shoulder just in time to see Ravage pounce on that yellow Autobot with the horns that was always showing up in the news. “You guys having a little play date or something?”

He scoffed out a laugh, quickly stifling it with a clearing of his vents. “Whatsit matter to ya? Didn't think you cared dat much about lil’ old me.”

“Rumble, what…?” Was he seriously pouting? Or maybe trying to guilt trip you? For what, making him cum? “What are you even talking about? I haven't seen you in like, two weeks.”

“Aww, real funny! You know what I mean! I let you poke around in my chassis and run up my charge, an’ after that it's radio silence? Whaddya humans call it… ghosting? Make a mech feel like second-rate shareware, why don't ya?”

You blinked at him once, twice, mind spinning as you tried to process his words.

“Are you- are you mad I didn't call you?”

His optic lights beamed as he bristled, armor flaring with a hiss before clamping tight back to his frame. “I told you to comm me!”

“Rumble, I don't have your number! I couldn't call you even if I wanted to!”

His grip went slightly slack as he stared at you, leaving you dangling from your armpits like a cat. 

“I… I hailed you my frequency. In da EM field.”

“Humans don't have… whatever that is. Do you have a phone number?”

He stared at you again, much longer this time as the discordant crashing of giant metal men continued in the background. Then, with a sudden jolt, you were slipping free of his fingers as he dropped you unceremoniously to the pavement. It wasn't a far fall, just enough to make your feet tingle upon landing. When you looked up you saw he had both servos covering his faceplate, a string of muffled curses eking out between the digits.

Your mind was reeling. He actually wanted you to call him? To… repay the favor? Heat pooled in the pit if your stomach as your mind conjured up wicked memories of his stifled gasps and whimpers, how he’d squirmed beneath you as you prodded around his spark chamber. How behind all the billowing and smashing and Brooklyn-accented bravado, when you got down to the core of him, he was actually kind of… cute.

“You- just- I don’t- Get outta here! Go on, scram! Before you get stomped on or somethin’!” His face plate was flushed and glowing as he shooed at you. You would go, that was certain, you really didn't want to get stepped on after all. But first you were going to say something potentially risky, deeply embarrassing, and undoubtedly very, very stupid.

“Come over.”

His optics shuttered, flickering for a moment as he stared down at you, frozen.

“What?”

“Not right now. Tonight. When you guys are done getting wailed on? Come over.”

He opened his intake, then closed it. When he opened it a second time you caught a wisp of steam slipping through the gap in his dentae. He swallowed, hard. He never stopped staring at you.

“...Y-Yeah. Yeah. Awright. I'll be there.”

“Cool. Watch out for the yellow guy.”

“Huh-HGGRRK!?!” You stumbled back a few steps just in time for the Autobot to chuck Ravage directly into Rumble’s helm, sending him crashing into the brick wall beside you.

“Sorry! Are you alright?” The little Autobot called. “You should probably get out of here!”

He didn't have to tell you twice.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The news was just wrapping up their coverage on the ‘latest Decepticon assault’ when you heard a rap on your warehouse’s roll-up door. There wasn't much to see peering out the window, the street only haphazardly illuminated by old street lights. Not that you really needed to look, there was only one guest you were expecting at this time of night anyway. 

You'd stopped at home first, mainly to take a shower and put on something that wasn’t a pair of mechanic’s overalls. But for some reason the nerves hadn't hit you until right now. You clamped down on the prickle of… anxiety? Excitement? Somewhere between the two? As you pulled the strap at the base of the roll-up, the groan of shifting metal slowly gave way to reveal…

“Are you wearing a bowtie?”

“Not bad, eh? Don't say I never cleaned up or nothin’. Here.” As Rumble stepped from the dark street into the light of the warehouse he pulled something from his subspace: a large, green bottle that he offered to you pinched between two fingers. A bottle of wine. Judging by the label, an expensive bottle of wine.

“Where did you get this?” You turned the bottle over twice in your grip, scanning the details on the back. French Merlot, aged… fifteen years? Holy shit.

“Dat fancy Italian place on the corner of Fourth and Vine! What, ya don't like it?”

“I didn't say that!” Rumble positively beamed as you clutched the bottle. “I just didn't expect it, is all. Are you… wining and dining me right now?”

“Is dat a good thing or a bad thing? Your human movies said you’re ‘sposed to bring a little somethin’ somethin’ before, y’know,” There was a sly, lopsided charm to his grin as he pulled the roll-up back down with his pede, clanking shut behind him, “Before you let me run your charge for a change.”

“You know, you don't have to try so hard to im…press… me.” You trailed off, staring down at the bottle in your hands, then back up to him, then back at the bottle, then him again. When you made eye contact with him the slyness seemed to falter a bit, leaving behind something softer in his smile. Something a little more vulnerable.

 How did it take this long for it to click for you? He was wearing a bowtie, for Christ’s sake. 

“Oh my God you're trying to impress me.”

“Eh?” A fidgeting servo tugged at his bowtie- which appeared to be made of… an old seatbelt? “Nah, you're crazy! Dis is jus’ what humans are ‘sposed to do!”

“Oh my God you are!”

“H-Hey, what'd I say about you and gettin’ big ideas?” He tried to deter you, but your mind was already racing a mile a minute. 

“Do you actually like me? Like, want to date me? Do alien robots even date, cause I didn't know th- MMPH!”

With a massive metal palm pressed to your chest, Rumble pushed you back into your adjustable work table, still sitting at a mostly upright angle from the last time you'd repaired him. The table against your back was cold, a sharp contrast to the radiating heat from his servo as he pinned you in place with his hand. His face was inches from yours as he leaned over you, visor now gleaming with frustration and embarrassment.

“You can't get enough of dis, huh? Like pushin’ my buttons so much?” His servo pinned you down just a touch harder, forcing the air from your lungs in a breathy wheeze. “‘Oh, it's so fun to get Rumble all flustered! Lemme mess wit’ his head a lil more!’ Well maybe it’s Ol’ Rumble’s turn to do da messin’ around, huh? See how you like it when someone’s toyin’ with your sensitive bits.”

He bared his dentae as he spoke, another hiss of steam curling around your cheeks. It made your hair stand on end. A hot thrill ran through you, and you fought the urge to let your knees knock together, confident that Rumble would be able to keep you in place with brute strength alone. You could feel his thumb smoothing back and forth across your shirt, and as he glanced down at his servo the glare of his visor lessened slightly.

“...Why’s your fuel pump goin’ all crazy? You scared or somethin’?”

You swallowed a mouthful of saliva, willing your foggy mind to function. “Not… Not scared, exactly.”

There were a few seconds of tense silence, before the wickedest, prideful grin crept back up across his faceplate. 

“Oh? Is dat so?” His other servo rose to grip the top edge of the table, fingers molding to fit the dent he’d left there previously as he loomed over you. “Well maybe we oughta do somethin’ about tha- SCRAP!”

His flirtations were cut short by the sharp SNAP of the stabilizing lock on your workbench failing under Rumble’s weight and flipping 180 degrees over. The world pitched and spun as you tumbled backwards, yelping as the table flipped and deposited you upside-down on the floor, legs sticking akimbo in the air. From between your dangling feet you could see Rumble peering over you with his sly expression wiped off his visor by one of concern.

“Slag! I didn't crush your little pedes when you flipped, did I? Cause I don't no nothin’ about fixin’ up injured squishies.”

Miraculously, you had managed to make it through that ass-over-elbow fall without hitting your head on anything, or Rumble accidentally pinning your legs in place between his bulk and the table frame. “I’m alright! Just didn't expect it, I’m okay.”

“Dat’s good. Here lemme jus’-” You felt a servo close around each of your ankles. With an effortless tug Rumble dragged you back up, tabletop tipping with you as it clunked back into its standard, flat position. Of course, this now left you with your ass and legs dangling off the edge of the workbench, Rumble standing between them with a servo resting on each knee. “Better?”

You sucked in a breath, trying desperately not to look overeager. “Better.”

“Ah, slaggit all…” But instead of putting his servos back on you (where you most certainly wanted them) Rumble began to scratch at the back of his neck, failing to meet your gaze. “Guess I ain't really cut out for all this… whaddaya call it? ‘Winin’ and dinin’?’ Can't even get my servos on ya without fraggin’ it up.”

“Hey, I’m definitely not complaining.” You attempted a jokey tone, but it didn't seem to do much to dampen Rumble’s current self-deprecation. You let the playful edge fall away as you dropped into something a bit softer. “I mean it though. You don't have to try to impress me. I mean it's appreciated! But, y’know, I wouldn't have agreed to this if I wasn't already happy with the bot I was getting into it with.”

“Heh. Even if I end up crushin’ you a bit?”

“That's a risk I'm willing to take.”

He barked out another laugh, accompanied by a coil of thin steam hissing through his gap-dentae. “Well I guess I better make it worth da risk, shouldn't I?”

He snuck a servo under each of your knees, pushing them apart as he rocked his modesty panel against your clothed core. You stifled a gasp, the ridge of sturdy metal almost hot against you, even through layers of cotton and denim. The slow roll of his hips made your own stutter up off of the table, desperate for further friction.

“Cute. You like grindin’ on my panel? Should I make you bust jus’ like this?”

Despite the warm curl of arousal pooling in your stomach from the feeling, you knew this wouldn't be enough to get you off. Rumble seemed to know it too, letting out a low, pleased chuckle at your desperate expression.

“Jus’ yankin’ yer crankcase, sweetspark. I got somethin’ a lot more fun in mind for tonight anyway. Dat is, if you'll start gettin’ dese off.” He hooked a digit through your belt loop and gave them an experimental tug.

“Mmh, what, you don’t want to take them off yourself?” 

“Oh, I’ll gladly take ‘em off ya. Just figured you’d take care of dis part here…” His thick digits slid inward, ghosting over the button of your jeans. “So I don't gotta rip ‘em off ya instead.”

You weighed your options. On one hand, the image of Rumble tearing denim apart with his bare servos as if it was no more than wet tissue paper was far more appealing to you than you would have originally expected. On the other hand… well, they were new jeans.

“I got it.” You mumbled, quietly filing the image away in your brain for later use as you undid your button and zipper. “Careful with th- Oh!”

With a sharp yank, Rumble tugged your jeans and underwear off your legs and let them crumple onto the floor. Shoving himself into the space between your knees, you could only barely make out the top of his helm over the slope of your stomach as he knelt before you, spreading your folds with two digits and… staring.

You waited for a response, a quip, the slow drag of metal over your slick hole, but were instead greeted with silence. Something prickled in the pit of your stomach as you fought the urge to squirm. In the back of your mind you vaguely remembered that you hadn't really gotten to see what Rumble was packing, and only now were you grappling with the truth that you were trying to have sex with a truly alien being. Would your bodies even be compatible? Was he weirded out right now? You tried to pull your knees together, only to be stopped by a rough servo shoving them back open.

“...It's rude to stare.” You muttered.

“EY! I ain't starin’! I'm, uh, admirin’. Dat’s it.” There was a similar tightness to Rumble’s voice. You shuddered as a thumb stroked the crease of your thigh. “Soft… An’ it's supposed to be dat pink?”

“Y-Yeah… that's, mmh, normal.” You shuddered at a wave of steam curling over your sensitive heat as he spread you again, visor locked on your twitching entrance.

“Primus. And you're really gonna let me spike ya in this tiny little hole?” You could feel his thumb just brushing the rim and stifled a groan at the sudden, aching emptiness, the demand to be filled. “I don't wanna tear you in half or nothin’.”

“It’ll fit.” You whined, core tensing around nothing. “We’re, unh, we’re pretty flexible. C’mon, Rumble…” You forced your knees further apart, pushing your hips up into each of Rumble's far-too-light touches. His motor snarled in response, a massive hand gripping the inside of each of your thighs.

“Slag. You're really achin’ for it, aren’tcha?” His voice was lower than you'd ever heard it before, deep and resonant and primal. “But I ain't gonna give it to ya dat easy, doll. Gotta make sure you can take it first.” 

He raised his helm for just a moment, just enough for you to get a peek of his beaming visor and his wicked, gap-toothed grin between your legs. Then he descended, lathing his thick, hot glossa up the length of your cunt. You choked on a gasp, his servos the only thing keeping your hips from rabbiting up off the table. It was hot, his glossa thick and sturdy and drooling with oral lubricant, a thin layer of silicon over sturdier metal mesh dragging up through your folds.

“Easy, sweetspark…” You weren't the only one enjoying themselves. Rumble's low, rattling groan pulsed through your cunt. You swore you could just barely make out him groaning your name but it was lost, muffled as he pressed his faceplate further between your legs and his servos shivered where they gripped your thighs. He was messy and all too eager, arousal and oral lubricant spilling down his chin as his glossa stroked you; slow, deliberate drags up your folds until you were left dripping. At the apex he found your clit and took it between his dermas, a teasing hum rattling throughout his engine that had you gasping, thighs clenching around his thick helm. Your legs jerked as warmth bloomed outward from your core, hips writhing against the onslaught of pleasure. Dragging across his back your heel caught in a rounded divot, pulling a raggedy vent through Rumble’s dentae as his frame twitched.

“”Mmpfh!~ E-Ey, watch da spindle. It’s sensitive in dere…” He groaned, face still pressed into your cunt, servos only dragging your ass further off the table in his efforts to get somehow even closer to you. But instead you dug your heel in harder, pressing into the ridged divot and twisting your leg. The internal ring jerked with a sudden CLICK CLICK CLICK, each pop of noise making Rumble’s frame spasm like he'd just been electrocuted. “FRAG! Primus, that’s- ghh!~”

“Feel good?” You teased, breathless. His optics beamed back up at you, an oscillating, glistening red as you caught another peek of his gap-toothed grin from between your legs.

“So dat’s how you wanna play dis? Don't say I didn't warn ya, doll.” 

You barely had a chance to respond before the noise was punched out of your lungs in a sharp whine as Rumble shoved a thick, metal digit into your drooling cunt. Achingly hard, unrelenting, he flexed it against your rippling walls as his dermas nestled themselves snugly around your clit. The hum reverberating through his frame coursed through your body like a wave, hands scrabbling desperately at his helm as the twinge of pain at the sudden intrusion melted into thick, syrupy pleasure. 

“A-ah, fuck! Rumble, Rumble that's good, that's fucking good.~” Metal clanged as you lolled your head back against the table top, no longer able to keep it upright. Each drag of his digit, textured and ridged and unrelenting, sparked euphoria behind your eyelids. You felt every muscle in your body starting to prickle with pleasure, radiating outwards from your cunt and pooling in your head, your stomach, the tips of your toes…

You all but whined when he drew his digit away, dermas releasing your swollen clit with a slick pop. “C’mon! Rumble!”

“You want it dat bad, huh?” A shadow cast over your rumpled form as Rumble rose to his full height. From between your legs you could catch a glimpse of silver and blue panels fluttering and folding away, one of Rumble’s servos hiking the underside of your knee and the other stroking the gap between his thigh and pelvic armor as his spike rose to full attention. Christ, he was huge, the thick metal rod draped across your lower stomach as he rocked experimentally against you. Each thrust had the tip drooling a translucent, pinkish fluid you remembered scrubbing from the back of your jumpsuit, hot and vaguely smelling of well-oiled machinery and pooling across your bare stomach.

Rumble, for his part, seemed to be as entranced as you felt, visor vibrant and flickering as he stared down at the place his frame rubbed against your soft, supple body. A harsh ex-vent punctuated each roll of his hips, steam coiling around the corners of his slack, open intake as he pulled back, letting the tip of his spike slide wetly through your folds.

“Dat’s it, doll… You're gonna get exactly what you want. Gonna get you bouncin’ on dis spike, jus’ beggin’ for it…” His tone was low, entranced, just barely tinged with desperation. He dragged his tip through your folds again, and again, covering your cunt with his thick transfluid, making your breath hitch whenever he slid over your clit just right. You angled your hips up, guiding it right over your entrance, toes curling at the promise of pressure. 

But before you could utter his name again, or any other placation or demand, you felt the heavy press, the slow, aching slide as he entered you. It teetered just on the edge of pain, muscles twinging at your inner thighs as you forced your legs wider to accommodate his bulky armor. And his spike offered just as little give, covered with a thin layer of silicon like his glossa but still distinctly sturdy, inflexible metal. Your walls rippled helplessly around the intrusion, stretched to a delicious degree as he bullied his way inside you.

About halfway to being fully sheathed in your heat he paused, visor hazy and unfocused, intake still hanging open as he vented steam. A servo was resting on each of your hips, but while one stayed in place the other slid up, up, bunching your shirt around his digits and shoving it up above your chest. There his servo paused on your side, his massive thumb stroking back and forth over your nipple, quickly pebbling under the cool metal.

“Primus.” He breathed, distinctly softer than you ever remember hearing him before (and oh, if that didn't do just as much for your arousal as everything else). Finally, his hips began to move again, that intoxicating ache only beginning to border on near-unbearable when you could feel your ass and the backs of your thighs smushed against his pelvic armor. For another moment he paused, one servo cradling your hip and the other your chest.

Then he drew back, and thrust home.

The first thrust forced the air out of you in a desperate, sharp wheeze. This didn’t slow him, not in the slightest, digits sinking into the plush meat of your hip as he jackhammered into you. Each thrust had the entire table rattling, the sharp clang of metal against metal where his thighs hit the dented table’s edge. His quiet reverence had given way to an onslaught of erotic babble, visor locked on your face as it twisted and furrowed in pleasure.

“Takin’ it so fraggin well… You’re just made for takin’ my spike, aren’tcha?” He scooped his servo under your hip and lifted you further up, all but folding you in half as he loomed over you. His dermas brushed the curve of your jaw, just below your ear, and you could feel the heat of his ex-vent making your skin tingle. “You’ve jus’ been waitin’ for me to frag you stupid, plug up that achin’ valve til you can’t think of nothin’ else.”

“Mmmh…~ It’s so big.” You slurred, thighs slick with sweat and slipping on his plating as you struggled to lock your ankles in the small of his back. His frame shivered like an electric current ran through it, clutching you somehow even closer to his massive chassis.

“Nghh…~ Yeah? You love dis fat spike, don’tcha? Say it.”

“I love it!~”

“You want me to spill my load in this tight little valve, don’tcha?”

“Please!”

“Aghh, slag! Y-You’re gonna get it, sweetspark. You’re gonna take it all, j-just-mmfh!~” His vents were ragged and desperate, thrusts stuttering as he neared his release. You squealed as his thumb found your clit, rubbing the swollen bud in rough, tight circles. Euphoria was buzzing throughout your body, the ache of your lower back buried beneath the onslaught of pleasure and heat coiling in the pit of your stomach and blooming out through your limbs, legs shaking, hands trembling.

Sparks exploded behind your eyelids as your orgasm washed over you, hips jerking weakly against Rumble’s. There was no give to his spike at all, thick and steady and unyielding as your pussy squeezed and pulsed around it. You felt a flood of something molten spill into your core, filling you nearly to the point of aching as it spilled out around the tight ring of your hole around his base. Rumble’s frame stuttered, jittering, a harsh crackle of static and mechanical chatter pouring from his drooling intake where it was still buried in the crook of your neck. Finally, finally, his frame grew still. The only noise between the two of you were your shared, harsh breaths and the low churn of the occasional car driving past outside.

“Mmmmnnghh…” Rumble groaned, shifting his hips to pull his shrinking spike from your core as he rose unsteadily back to an upright position. You could feel transfluid dribbling from your hole as he tucked himself back away- thick, translucent globs spilling down the insides of your thighs and hitting the floor with a splatter. His engine gave a little, stuttering snarl despite himself as he dragged his digit tips through the shimmering line along one of your inner thighs. “I oughta take a picture of dis…”

“Don’t you dare.” You kicked weakly at his servo, legs now tingling with static as blood rushed back to them. He barked out a sharp laugh, effortlessly batting your foot aside. His servo rested atop your lower stomach and gave a teasing press, and you shivered as more globs of thick transfluid drooled from your cunt. “Jerk.”

“Eyy, you love it!”

“Unfortunately.” There was no real bite to your tone, you could tell by the way Rumble grinned. “Think you can give me a hand getting over to the bathroom before my knees give out?”

“Depends. Does dat count as you owin’ me a favor?”

[kelseywrestling]

2024 Women’s Royal Rumble Gear Appreciation

[hailpacino]

live, laugh, love matt dillon *blowing kisses*

[therealsquidiq]

star cream and umble fanart😂😂😂😂