#this has been sitting in my drafts for a while

[akalimbratic]

Short story below the cut! I wrote for a little while here 💀 this has been sitting in my drafts for ages too so I figured I'd finish it.

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Day 1.

Hey so, I'm writing this journal because I really, really hope this ends soon. Also if I die it might be cool to have something that proves I lived-- I guess?? I'm not sure I'm just--

This is fucking crazy. So, here's to day one and here's what happened.

We all thought it was a joke at first, maybe one of the newbies in the radio station decided to play a little prank-- but there's always those doomsday folks that prepare for just this situation. Those with the bunkers, the cans of food, who prepare for the unprepared when they inevitably buy up all the supplies in stock. It's what my Uncle Rich did; first to heed the warning, first in the bunker, first to insist we all join him, and the first man to die. I think. I don't really know. It's all so confusing and I'm writing this at 4 something in the morning so give me a break.

Anyway, about... I want to say a week later after Uncle Rich went into hiding. But when we got there he was gone, and I don't mean we discovered his corpse draped over the couch like a sack of potatoes I mean he was GONE. Everything was GONE. the furniture the carpet HIM was GONE as if it never existed to begin with! All that remained was this weird- smelly- slimy substance no one could really figure out what. It was smeared on the walls dripping from the ceiling seeping into the concrete floor.

We didn't JUST lose Rich either. Neighbors that routinely locked the door at night (I did not, for I worked overnight shifts and always forgot out of sheer exhaustion. At first I used to kick myself in the head about it being dangerous but thank God for brainfog or something right?) came about the same fate. Old Miss Peterson was gone, Little Todd and his mom was gone, even the hermit who I never bothered to check on before was-- just. Gone.

So I began staying with my mom in her little town. Though it was unbearable being around the damn cat who cant seem to stop screaming at corners scratching up furniture, it was worth it just to be together.

Day 14.

Nearly all the doors in the neighborhood have been replaced with screens or removed entirely. I think the only good thing that came out of this was the fact that people were going outside and talking to each other again, checking in and just-- acknowledging someone else. Mom says shes never seen so many faces, Critter (the cat) agrees by slapping her hand away from its stomach. He made her bleed and mom didn't seem to bothered by it which was... weird. I really don't understand cat people but okay. Is that just something you guys accept?

I mean maybe it's just me being queasy around blood. I never did too well with it to be truthful.

Day 30.

After nothing on the radio for weeks and nothing happening we all met in the middle of town for a meeting. The mayor said something about possibly returning doors back onto people's houses and deciding to trust that whatever did happen was over, but obviously he didn't want to declare it so until the government said it was okay. The only reason why this was even brought up was because it's becoming tourist season and getting increasingly hotter, so a lot of townspeople didn't feel comfortable keeping their doors off for much longer. You know with the risk of thieves and higher electricity bills and all. I think it's a bit fucked that we still have to pay bills but, hey, money makes the world go round right?

It came down to asking somebody to volunteer themselves to take the risk. Obviously, nobody volunteered because why the hell would you.

Except mom did. I looked at her like she was crazy but she was always a giving sort of person and said "it's just one night. We can stay awake and be close to the door just in case okay?" Sooo I guess we're doing this then?? You know what really doesn't help is everyone was suddenly very interested in being our friends after, so not only were we sacrificing ourselves to the slime people were treating us like we were already dead! Fuck-ing whoopie!

But you know I refuse to leave my mom. She's all I have left. Her and Critter. I'm just hoping her bravery isn't because she's tired of the mosquitos.

So, anyway. If this is my last journal entry then I got digested. Good luck!

Day 31.

Last night mom and I set up shop next to the door that the Mayor helped us put back in (the neighbors didn't. Many said they didnt want the blood on their hands should something have happened). We locked it and just kind of stayed in the living room together after binging our favorite show as a source of comfort. For once, Critter was actually really chill. Chill enough to the point where he didn't let out a peep and just stayed close by.

There was something weird though? Like yeah Critter was chill but he wasn't calm. The little guy was fluffed up and only really cuddled up against me, not mom. In fact he didnt seem to like mom at ALL he just didnt vocalize it like he used to with me. Mom didnt seem to notice, just fixated on the TV and saying "I've never seen so many faces" again.

... so yeah, don't tell her this, but I didn't sleep inside. I opted to sleep in the chair hammock thing on the porch with Critter. Either way, we survived, and mom didn't disappear like the rest of them.

Day 32

Some people took our survival as a sign that things were over. Some people were still skeptical. Doors are returning to their houses. Critter still avoids mom.

Day 35

No one's Gone yet, thankfully. In fact nothing really seems to be happening anymore. Im starting to think it really is over but Critter avoiding mom and being as quiet as he is is starting to freak me out. No matter how many people offer me a place to sleep I just tell them I'm outdoorsy, I like the fresh air, and they leave me alone.

Some people do pull me aside and ask if I'm okay though. I tried telling people that Critter doesn't trust mom and they wind up brushing it off because he's "just a dumb animal", and "I wouldn't give it much thought." Which normally, I wouldn't! But these people locked their doors the night before so how do I know that whatever's going on with mom isn't going on with them? Anyway, until something starts happening I think I'm going to stop writing in here. Im getting weird looks now sooo... I may leave town tomorrow. I just have to make sure mom's okay first.

But I don't think she is.

Entry 7.

They tried taking Critter.

Entry 8.

The page is covered in scribbles and chicken scratch, indicating anxiety and rushed. Its ripped in some places where the author had pressed too hard. There's wet spots on the page thats long since dried.

Fuck fuck fuck I fucking knew it. I KNEW it. Except I didnt. But i did? I don't know! I just-

I had to run-- drive-- ANYTHING. They tried takogn critter rrom me yesterday. I was sleeping with him on the pourch like normal and they tried ripping yim rromcmy hands like he wasnr a living breathing thkng! For the firdt time in days crotter acramed and I wound up puncuing a kid to get him out if their grasp. Im so fucking scared I almost lost Critter they tried to TAKEA HKM FROM ME LIKE WHAT THE FUCK.

Thie fucking town is insane. Theyr eGINE THEYRE ALL GONE MOMS GONR THEYRE (dried tear stains cause the writing to bleed together and greatly disturb the legibility of the entry. There appears to be cat fur stuck to the age, Critter must've brushed himself against the author of the journal.)

Entry 9

I lost track of how many days it's been. I've been sleeping in my car and constantly on the move, just Critter and I. I don't stay in towns with doors anymore, and even without doors I only stay long enough to warn people and get gas, maybe something to eat. I lock my doors but keep the windows cracked enough to make it count.

I... am really lonely, honestly. If it weren't for Critter keeping me company I don't know how long I would've lasted out here. I don't even want to go home. Whatever became of Mom might find me there.

... I miss her. I miss Uncle Rich. I miss my friends, my lame job, my lame life.

I just hope I find somebody else, someone who isnt Gone.

Entry 10

It's weird how much use I'm getting out of this thing. I kind of wish I invested in one of those cool journals that usually collects dust on a shelf because you never know what to use it for. This composition notebook is good sure, but if a historian discovers my body with it I won't look nearly as cool. I kind of hope to die in like, some cool epic battle though, become a sick environmental skeleton. Or epic clothes! That'll make up for it.

Day 213

Apparently it's been seven months already. I found out because I ran into somebody on the road who's keeping track. She seemed cool, not Gone. Apparently she went through something similar and also jumped ship when her brother went Gone-- she has a dog too! His name is Rex and hes a cute German Sheppard... Critter doesn't seem to think so haha, but that's to be expected.

He likes her though! Kinda. He hisses when she moves too quick but he at least meows around her. Her names Rosy and we're going to start traveling together. Shes got a sick truck. I wish I had a truck.

Day 230

We found another survivor.

His name is Finnegan Oswell, old army vet i think in hiiiis 60s? He has a kid with him. A 14 year old named Ezekiel thats taller than Rosy (she's not happy about it). It's about the same story as ours, his daughter (zeke's mom) went Gone. Heartbreaking stuff but, you know. Im just glad to know that there's people out here.

We added them to our merry band of survivors.

Day 231

Ezekiel survived the event that took his family, and... holy fucking shit.

He described it as the shadows turning to tar and it getting harder to breathe. He was on the second floor at the time, his mom slept on the first floor. He watched the house get brighter as the darkness lept from the walls and swallowed everything whole. The only reason he wound up surviving was because he broke a window and jumped. (Which explains why his nose is crooked and his missing a tooth, yeesh).

When he returned with Finn they found nothing but a sticky slimy substance coating the walls, ceilings, and floors... except in Zeke's room.

If this ever ends I think we all need some major therapy.

Final Entry. Day 477.

Wow, does time fly?

I think you, future historian, will be sad to know that I'm not sure this ever ends. Every town or city we passed through people were gone or Gone. All of them with lockable doors.

But! You'll be happy (I hope) to know that I'm doing... okay.

Along the way our group grew from the 4 of us, to 6, to 10, to probably like 50 people. We found refuge in a nice comfortable state where it didn't get unbearably hot and it didn't get unbearably cold either (don't ask me the name of the state I completely forgot) in a forest too for that extra shade and stuff. I think this used to be an old campground? It's next to a river and the campground owner was happy to see people.

We built walls around the campground the way beavers build their dams, and built stuff that always had a gap large enough to count. Everyone pitches in, checks in on each other it's... nice. It's really good.

Ezekiel turned 15 last week, actually. He's made new friends and seems to really be thriving here, Rosy began teasing about him and Roxanne together because of course she would. A couple of Finn's old army buddies managed to find this place, and I think thats the first time I've ever seen 3 old men weep in each other's arms. Might be my last too! Finn told me he'll whip me if he finds out I wrote this event down but how can I NOT?

Speaking of Rosy, we've become close, so has Rex and Critter (I mean seriously, those two are inseperable now). She's my best friend and if it weren't for her, I think I'd be Gone too.

Anyway, we aren't sure if the world outside is Gone for good or if it's ever going to recover. But what's important is that we are Here. Or we were Here by the time you read this, future historian.

This may be my last Journal entry as I'm really ready to move on from this and start a new chapter in my life. So...

Audrey, out!

“Attention all citizens - This is not a drill - Do not shelter in place - Avoid enclosed spaces - Leave doors and windows open”

[plethorawrites]

can I request Damian x reader but reader is like the opposite she’s clumsy and messy (NOT DIRTY SHES JUST NOT REALLY ORGANIZED) and at first Damian is like no way I could ever like someone like that but then he’s like oh shit I think I like her you don’t have to do it but it was just an idea

(A/N- This has been sitting in my drafts for a bit because people are STILL calling me racist, so I've seriously considered wiping Damian from my page completely. But I love him as a character way too much to do that, so here we are!) (Requests are open again, btw!)

---

Despite being rather pretentious because of his upbringing, I think anytime Damian Wayne is assigned to do a group project, he'd want to go to someone else's house. They usually live in squalor (Middle class) but he deals with it for a few hours because it beats having his classmates fawning over his older brother's or asking his dad if he really used to date Harvey Dent or if that's just a rumor.

Usually, despite the condition of the house (Aka having a dish rack on the counter.) the room they'd work in was pretty clean. But you? Oh, no, no, no. He almost had a heart attack when he saw the state of catastrophe your study room was in.

Books on the ground instead of on the shelves, chair pulled out from the desk instead of tucked in, tons of sticky notes scattered on the walls and reminders pinned up. No one could have that short of a memory, could they? You seemed to.

The number of loose papers on the desk, the open notebooks with illegible writing, fidget toys to relieve stress or increase your focus, cups from when you needed coffee for a late-night study session that hadn't made it all the way to the dishwasher yet. (But it was on the sticky note! Right under the reminder to check your email.

Was that a thing people needed to remember to do?

He was utterly perplexed by the chaos you seemed so comfortable in. What he found most odd though, was how you never made any effort to fix it. He had been to your house three times thus far, trying to make a dent in the project that would take at least another week and each time, your room was the same. He even offered to help you organize (For his own sanity) but you turned him down, claiming you liked it how it was.

"How could anyone possibly like studying like this?" he questioned.

You shrugged. "I find having a pristine desk makes me uncomfortable, like I'm not actually doing work in a space I can relax in," you explained. "Plus, research shows environments like this increase brain productivity."

Damian wasn't sure if he believed that for a single second. But you clearly seemed to.

"But it's so messy," he muttered, motioning to your desk, so covered in God knows what that he couldn't even see what color the wood was.

"It's disorganized, not messy," you retorted. "And I know where everything is. Pencil sharper is by the white out because I use both rarely, erasers are where all the pencils are because I stab the led into them when I'm bored, highlighters are the ruler, which is.... under the syllabus I printed at the start of the year."

You pointed at everything as you said it and he slowly came to the realization that you weren't lying when you said you weren't messy. You kind of, in some weird way, had a system that worked.

Still, it felt uncomfortable for him. For a while. He'd watch you chew on your pencil and reach for tape that came from he didn't even know where, seemingly materializing things out of thin air. You barely even sat in the chair, he realized. He was always the one sitting in it, watching you sit or lay on the floor.

The only time Damian was ever on the floor was when Titus knocked him down or he got beat by his brothers during sparring. (Not that it ever happened..psh, no, don't be absurd.)

He slowly got a bit more accustomed to your room, even starting to find a bit of comfort whenever he stepped into it. It was welcoming, in a way, he'd come to think. When had that happened?

"Aren't you supposed to leave by eight?" you asked him, stretching your arms over your head as you sat on the floor across from him.

Damian frowned, looking at the time. He realized it was already 7:55. Had it already been four hours? It seemed like he just sat down on your rug, which, was surprisingly comfortable.

He hated to admit how much more productive he felt sitting on the floor than at a desk. "Uh, yes, right," he nodded, standing up and stretching as well. "I think we can probably get this finished by Tuesday," he added, feeling a weird pang of disappointment by the thought.

You nodded. "Alright, I'll see you tomorrow at four, then," you told him, watching as he packed up his books neatly, the pages fitting back in the nice folder perfectly. "Unless you wanna stay," you suddenly found yourself offering. "For dinner, I mean. If...if you want to. No pressure."

Damian paused, caught off guard by invitation. He stared at you for a few minutes, lips parting but words not leaving his mouth. Dinner? That was probably going to last at least an hour or two. Longer if your parents were the kind to serve dessert or chat a lot. He might not get home until ten or later.

"Sure," he agreed abruptly, though logically he knew he should refuse. He was supposed to be asleep by nine so he could get some rest before patrol. "I'd love to stay for dinner," he remarked, setting his bag back down for what wasn't one or two hours like planned, but four and a half.

How he would explain getting home past midnight to his father, he wasn't sure yet. But he'd find a reasonable excuse. After all, his dad was the one who told him to find normal friends and he was just doing what he asked.

...You were just his friend, right?

[faithsmadhouse]

Undercovers||Max Verstappen x fem!Reader x Checo Pérez

MDNI+18

Summary: Sneaking around with both Red Bull drivers has been reckless from the start, but Monaco is different. The thrill is sharper. The danger closer. You know you shouldn’t let them in. But you leave the door unlocked anyway.

Warnings: 18+, explicit sex, threesome (f/m/m), double penetration, oral (f/m & m/f), dom/sub dynamics, praise, degradation, possessiveness, creampie, unprotected sex (DONT DO IT) slight jealousy, semi-public risk (hotel), swearing, rough sex, aftercare (implied)

@isurvived3-11andimproud @selfishpresley @andtheytoldustotellyouhello @sinofwriting

A/n— this has been in my drafts for a while now

Monaco, 2:41 a.m.

The hotel room is quiet until it isn’t.

You hear the door click shut, a soft, deadly sound. And then Max leaning against the frame like he owns the place, like he owns you.

“Didn’t lock it,” he says, voice low. “Almost like you wanted us to come in.”

You’re already backing up, heart hammering, legs trembling, anticipation soaking your panties. “You shouldn’t be here.”

Checo’s voice, softer, deeper, behind Max: “Mi amor… you know that’s not true.”

The way they move is practiced now. Max stalks forward, predator-slick, pulling off his shirt like he’s shedding control. Checo lingers just a second longer at the door to lock it. Click.

Game on.

“You wore this to tease us,” Max growls, tugging your Red Bull polo up over your head. “Smiling on the grid like you haven’t had both our cocks in you this week.”

“Max—”

“Don’t lie,” Checo cuts in, stepping behind you. His hands slide up your bare waist, rough palms against soft skin. “You drip for us, chiquita. Every time.”

You shudder when Checo kisses the curve of your neck slow, indulgent. Max watches you come apart, eyes dark, already hard under his briefs.

“Do you want to be used?” Checo asks, voice a whisper against your skin. “Or do you want to pretend you’re in charge?”

You barely manage to whisper: “Use me.”

Max grins like he’s won a race. “Good girl.”

You don’t remember how your clothes vanish, only that their hands are everywhere lifting, pulling, pressing. Checo sits on the edge of the bed and spreads your thighs open with quiet reverence. Max kneels between them like a man ready to sin.

“Fucking look at her,” Max breathes. “So wet she’s dripping on the sheets.”

Checo hums in appreciation, hands stroking your thighs as Max yanks your panties aside. “Hold her still.”

“Sí.”

Max’s mouth hits you like fire tongue hot, fast, ruthless. He groans when he tastes you, fingers already pushing deep as your back arches. You cry out, and Checo catches your jaw, tilting it up.

“Let them hear you, bebita,” he murmurs. “Let them hear how good we make you feel.”

Max moans against your pussy when Checo says it. You barely last a minute under their attention tongue and fingers, words and praise before you’re shaking, coming, breathless.

“You like being our little toy, don’t you?” Max mutters when he pulls away, lips wet with you. “Fuck, I could spend hours down there.”

Checo’s already unzipping, smirking. “Get on your knees, corazón. I want your mouth.”

You drop between Checo’s thighs, guided by his hands and his soft Spanish praise. You take him deep, tongue swirling, throat relaxing he groans, the sound vibrating through your spine.

Behind you, Max’s hands return rough, greedy. He spreads your legs and buries his face in your pussy again, tongue fucking into you as you gag on Checo’s cock.

“Hold still,” Checo growls, hand tightening in your hair. “You feel so good like this, tan buena…”

Max groans, voice muffled against your cunt. “She’s shaking.”

You can’t breathe. Can’t think. You’re lost between them filled at the front, devoured from behind, tears streaming from overstimulation. Your moans are muffled, your thighs trembling.

“She’s ready,” Max finally says. “Flip her.”

Checo pulls you onto his lap like you weigh nothing. His cock presses inside slowly, stretching you in all the right ways, making you cry out.

“You feel that?” he whispers. “You take me so well.”

You’re barely adjusted when Max moves behind you grabbing your hips, stroking slick fingers over your ass.

“You want more, don’t you?” he breathes. “Want both of us inside?”

“Yes,” you gasp. “Please, please—”

“You beg so pretty,” Max growls, and then he’s pressing in hot and thick and deep, sliding into your ass inch by inch. Your body clenches around both of them, your scream caught in your throat.

“Fucking hell,” Checo groans. “She’s perfect.”

Max grips your waist, biting your shoulder. “So fucking tight. You love being filled like this.”

They start to move one in, one out, rhythm steady, perfect. It’s too much. Too hot. Too filthy.

“You were made for this,” Checo growls.

“You’re ours,” Max snarls. “Only ours.”

Their words drown you. Their cocks ruin you. Their hands keep you from falling apart.

And when Max reaches down to rub your clit, it’s over you come with a strangled cry, legs locking around Checo, body spasming as they fuck you through it.

Max curses in Dutch, hips snapping hard, and Checo follows groaning your name into your skin as he spills inside you.

They hold you tight, still deep, panting, ruined.

When the world starts to come back into focus, you’re limp between them, a sweaty, flushed mess, still shaking from aftershocks.

Max kisses your shoulder. “Still think we shouldn’t have come?”

You laugh broken, breathless. “You’re both insane.”

Checo smiles and tucks your hair behind your ear. “Sleep now, mi amor. We’ll ask again in an hour.”

[darewolfcreates]

Liquid Rainbow jar #1 Dare Wolf

[omgfangirlland]

I need a part two of the fanfic writer reader where joker ask her to write more fanfics of him and his batsy.. Even better is if he ask for a fanart of him and Batman. (I got a feeling that joker is one of her fans and would mostly read the Batman x joker fanfic)

I wanna traumatize Jason.. Imagine a fan comment of wanting a Jason x joker 😭😭😭

(Btw, I laughed my ass off reading part one of fanfic writer reader)

-🔱

Part two of this drabble, have I mentioned it's crack and don't treat it seriously?

First of all-

HI- HELLO I'M SORRY I DIDN'T SEE THIS ONE BEFORE- How did you do? Wish I could have said good luck :( (It's on the John C & Apprentice/AdoptedDaughter!Read one if you remember)

Second- got back from a job interview(god, I really hate the idea of working for them, but they're the only ones who got back to me in MONTHS), slept the rest of the day- fully didn't plan to write but this is making my brain itch-

Joker finding out the identity of jokergagglingbatsballs35 before ANY of the Bats is so funny- THEY LIVE WITH YOU!

Alas- they're a bit distracted with trying to mend the relation with you they ruined. It's honestly like trying to befriend a scared, hurt dog to them- flinching when they try to get close, barking when they do something you don't expect. The only one who isn't privy to your anger and distrust is Alfred, and they have noticed.

"He feeds me." Was your grumbled response when they asked, and they tried to befriend you by doing the same- but it wasn't really the simple fact that Alfred feeds you- it's the fact that he's done it for years without poisoning you or pushing you to the side. So, yeah, nothing they give you ends up in your mouth.

Especially not Damian's stuff. You go out of your way to break whatever goodie apart, searching for nails, needles, hell, you expect a whole dagger in it sometimes. You do not trust these people, and the sudden way they changed.

So, you find your time spent more and more outside the manor. Cafes, parks, the library... where Joker found you, in disguise, of course- can't have him attract attention when he wants to be subtle for once.

Your face has subtitles. So when the man sits across you, he already knows you think he's a weirdo. He also knows you're the one and only, jokergagglingbatsballs35, when your face twitches, trying your best to not smirk like a baby Joker.

You found out quite quick that he was the second man you've been writing about in your little hobby. You thought he'd kill you, or Jokerize you- didn't expect him to gush over your work or to whine like a toddler about the bats ruining everything fun. Honestly, you two got into it, you even showed him the shitty first drafts that you hid deep in your laptop.

"You're quite artistic. Do you draw as well?"

"... Why...? You want me to draw Batman pregnant?"

The shock as Joker processed your question was quickly wiped away, his signature smile and laugh taking its place. You have become his favorite Wayne. So, like a true fan, he has started planning "kidnappings" with you so you could write for him-

The bats didn't like it. And, sure, they didn't really look into it beyond getting you back, but also- they weren't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Joker left you unharmed and untied, it honestly was just him wanting to annoy the bats and the Waynes- and if Harley had fun doing whatever girls do or gossiping, it's a bonus to him.

Now- he hates Red Hood for a variety of reasons- he killed the boy, and he came back, stole his title, and he just can't stand the motorcycle fetish get-up.

"How would you feel about a Red Hood x Joker, enemies to lovers, slow burn?"

Joker is in cloud nine, he doesn't know what Bruce did to this kid to end up like this, pure menace and hatred, but he loved it- And sure he'd love it, take your time! Uncle Joker will keep the bats off your tail for as long as possible so you can at least have half a draft.

And while half the internet is happy about you being back, the bats are too busy to notice as they Tim try their best to chip you, but you bite and punch quite hard when scared awake from your sweet sleep.

You've also started putting bells on the handle of your door, a chair under the doorknob, and transparent tape on your windows to make sure they won't enter without you noticing.

...Meeting Slade won't be as nice, but I don't think he'd care much as long as you don't post his fails.

----

MEME TIME

Reader, when finding out she's talking to the Joker:

Reader, when Joker asked if she can draw:

Joker, when Reader brings up Pregnant!Batman:

Joker, on cloud nine when he realizes this Wayne is as fucked up as him but in a different way:

Cass, in the shadows, knowing everything but saying nothing because she doesn't want you angry at her:

Also- I think @datgurl-rhea would appreciate the tag, tell me if not, I'll delete it-

[disastersareajoy]

Unconditionally

Billy Loomis x Stu Macher x Fem!Reader

~ 10k words

Tags: established relationship, discussion of murder, explicit smut, threesome, being restrained, orgasm delay, knife play (aka That’s Not How You Use A Knife), teasing, cunnilingus, biting, squirting, blowjob, hair pulling, nipple play, fucked from behind, cowgirl, creampies, dacryphilia, intimate, wet and messy, mention of bruises, aftercare, sweetness

Another year, another Multi-May! Hosted by the wonderful @bisexual-horror-fan, Multi-May is all about Poly ships and showing them endless love, and I am so so happy to be able to participate again this year! The draft of this fic has been collecting dust in my docs for ages now and I just couldn’t get it right. But with Multi-May comes new inspiration that allowed me to finally flesh it out properly and finish it in a way I’m actually very proud of

I hope you all enjoy the roughly 9k of pure filth, especially you Bex!!

———

Things with Billy and Stu had been going great. While the beginning of your relationship had taken time and a lot of conversations, you having to learn to trust that these two people that had loved each other for so long were more than willing and enthusiastic to include you in their relationship, and love you just as much, once the three of you finally figured it out it was heaven. 

There wasn't a single moment since you had officially become a part of them, that you didn't feel utterly loved and appreciated. And you were more than happy and eager to give that love back to the two of them in a beautiful give and take.

That wasn't even including the sex. 

Both Billy and Stu had been clear from the beginning that they desired you in equal measure, and the first time you three fell into bed together that became more than obvious. 

They teased and spoiled in perfect tandem, knowing exactly when to give and when to take— When to be gentle and when to be rough. You could easily see how well they knew each other and each other's bodies by how effortlessly they worked together to ruin you. 

It was perfect, and you were sure there was nothing that could rock your relationship.

Then one day you were watching the news and heard of a murder nearby, a young man taken out in his prime. You still remember how Stu scoffed when the newscaster called his death a “tragic thing that was rattling the community.” Billy had stared at him in warning and that was that. 

It made you curious, and when you checked your memory for the night it happened you realized that both Billy and Stu had come home to you only late at night, smelling freshly showered even though you hadn't heard them take one. 

So you paid more attention. It made you feel crazy but after a while you were convinced it was them. They were doing these things together and coming home to you where they were the perfect boyfriends – attentive, patient and so loving. 

You wrestled with yourself for weeks, debated turning them in, sitting in the living room of your apartment the day after they were out late again, and waiting for news of another victim to come in. When it did you stared at your TV in quiet contemplation, a quiet voice telling you to run, an even quieter one telling you to stay anyways. 

Then one night you were laying awake hours after Billy and Stu had said they'd be home, waiting in bed unable to sleep. When you heard the front door open you tensed for a small second before you heard the quiet voices of your boyfriends. 

With slow and soft steps you heard them sneak into the bedroom and did your best to pretend you were sleeping, slowing your breathing and relaxing your muscles as your eyes slid closed.

You could feel your heart hammer in your chest when you felt someone's warm breath on your face before soft lips pressed against your temple. A short moment later another kiss followed, different lips pressing against your forehead. 

“We love you, doll.” 

They silently snuck back out of the room and you heard the shower turn on a couple minutes later, your eyes open again and staring at the closed bedroom door. 

Who were you kidding? 

You'd never turn them in. You'd never run and leave them behind. You loved them and there wasn't a single cell in your body that doubted that they loved you equally. 

So the next time the news talked about another victim, you changed the channel. When they announced a witness saw a masked person run from the scene of the next murder, you pressed kisses to each of their temples and whispered that you loved them. 

Weeks after your realization, and silent vow to keep their secret, they suggested something new. A surprise. 

Stu smirked at you wide and feral, a rope stretched between his hands as Billy was busy softly explaining that it's fine if you don't want to try it, completely unaware of the swirling of pleasure in your stomach at the sight of the rope. So naturally, you agreed with more than enthusiastic consent. 

There had been a quick, fleeting thought in your head when you looked at the rope. 

Would they hurt you?

You dismissed that thought as soon as it had arrived. They wouldn’t ever hurt you, it was evident in every silent and loud love confession they gave you every single day. 

That's how you ended up here. Laying on the bed with your arms stretched up above you, your hands each tied to one bedpost. Your legs were not tied up after much discussion with Stu and Billy, them wanting to make sure you don't get overwhelmed. 

There were butterflies of anticipation in your stomach and you took deep breaths to prepare yourself. 

"You're sure?” 

You looked up at Stu who was sitting on the bed next to you and smiled reassuringly at him. "More than sure. But kiss me first?” 

Now it was his turn to smile at you before he leaned down and kissed you, his lips soft against yours and slow moving. 

When you separated Stu got up off the bed and disappeared out of the bedroom door. Before you could question it, Billy appeared in your field of vision, kneeling on the bed where Stu previously sat, and also pressed a kiss to your lips. 

The kiss started slow and soft but quickly deepened and carried all the anticipation sparking between you, the desperate need in you clear to Billy through how you were pushing up from the sheets when he pulled away. 

He chuckled as he looked down at you, “Well, you seem eager today.” 

“I am,” you whined out and Billy leaned down to press another kiss to your lips which he pulled away from quickly. 

“Good.” His voice dipped low and made you shiver as his eyes raked over your form. Your arms stretched apart above you, your legs tangled with how you were grinding your thighs together for a soft relief from the constant anticipating arousal pooling low in your stomach. 

Billy’s eyes lingered between your legs on the way up your body, soft black lace decorated your skin and obscured the view of where you were soaking the fabric. He lifted a hand and softly trailed it up your legs and squeezed your thighs before slipping between them, his hand laid flat over your clothed cunt.

You whined and pushed your hips against his hand, the soft pressure finally giving you a taste of what you truly wanted. Billy didn't give you any more than that pressure though, keeping his hand still and simply present. 

He let his gaze wander up to your chest which was also adorned in matching black lace. Billy smirked when he noticed your hard nipples poking through the lace, “Very eager.” 

With a groan you pushed yourself further into his hand, desperate for more.

“Please, Billy,” you could barely look at him when you said it, but his smile was so wide that when you did look, you didn't want to look away again. 

He hummed in thought, “Not going to wait for Stu? Want me to take care of you already?” 

You wanted to say yes. You wanted him to touch you properly, get through the inevitable teasing, and get the pleasure that you craved so deeply. But you also wanted Stu here more than anything. 

You wanted them both.

The internal battle in you of how to reply was clear to Billy by how your eyes snapped over to the bedroom door that Stu had disappeared out of earlier, and how your eyebrows drew together.

"Can't decide?” He teased and you nodded, still slowly trying to grind yourself into his hand. 

Then there was a knock on the bedroom door and Billy’s smirk widened. “You won't have to choose, doll, don't worry.”

He leaned in close and kissed your cheek, “You'll get us both, like always.” 

Billy got up off the bed and pulled his hand away from between your legs which in turn pulled a long whine from between your lips. 

“Do you remember about a week ago when Stu and I had those errands to run in the evening?” 

Your mind scratched to a halt. You did remember. It was another night they came home way later than they said they would. The next morning, as expected, there was a dead body found. 

Why was he bringing this up now? 

“Doll, do you remember?” Billy insisted and looked at you expectedly. 

You tried swallowing the tension and answering him but your words got stuck in your throat, so you just nodded. 

“You were already asleep when we got home and of course, we didn't want to wake you, so I thought we'd do the laundry in the morning.” He bent down and picked something up off the ground before holding it up. Suddenly you knew exactly where this was going, but part of you couldn't quite believe it. 

“Imagine our surprise when the laundry was already done when we woke up. And then I find this,” he said and twisted the shirt in his hands to show a small collection of embroidered hearts on the right sleeve. 

You looked at him with wide eyes and tried to seem as surprised as possible. It was obvious that it wasn't going to work, but you were determined to try anyway.

“These weren't here before. Did you think I wouldn't notice?” 

Billy's eyes were stuck on you, keeping eye contact while he waited for a response. 

“Maybe,” you said quietly after finally finding your voice again. 

He barked a laugh at your reply as he took a step towards you with the shirt still in hand. Your eyes flicked down to the hearts, remembering how you had found the shirt in the laundry in the morning and saw the cluster of bright red drops on the sleeve. 

After a minute of staring at them like that would suddenly make them disappear, and make you able to pretend you had never seen them, you knew you had a decision to make. 

Not turning your boyfriends into the police for being serial killers when you have nothing but a hunch is one thing. Not turning them in when you have a shirt that would most likely tie them to the most recent murder was another thing. 

Your compliance would be real. Far more real than before, when you could simply pretend you were just paranoid and overthinking random coincidences. It would technically make you an accessory. 

When you were finally able to move again you went and grabbed the lemon juice, then vinegar, then made a load of laundry. Once it was done you could still see a hint of the stains which you know in hindsight was simply paranoia. 

Either way, you grabbed a needle and thread and got to work making small hearts.

Part of you knew Billy was bound to notice, how could he not? The hearts are inconspicuous enough in size but the deep red of the thread was sure to catch someone's eye. But you had to do it. You told yourself it was the first solution you could think of even though you knew a store in town carries fabric dye dark enough to cover any leftover stain.

Maybe it was your subconscious way of subtly letting them know that you knew. And that you still loved them more than anything. A silent confession of devotion. 

Now, with Billy standing by the side of the bed still holding up the shirt, looking at you with amusement, disbelief, and something that looked an awful lot like fondness, you couldn't help but think that it had been the right choice. 

Billy looked down at you, his grin softening into a smile, and put his hand on your thigh. The arousal that had slipped to the back of your mind and softened a bit at being caught returned in full force with his touch, your legs parting slightly on instinct. 

“Why the hearts?” He asked it so softly you almost didn't recognize the weight of the question.

He wanted you to say it. He wanted you to admit that you knew what they did and you didn't care. 

You thought about this moment a lot. When they confronted you with what they did and demanded a reaction. In your mind, it would be tense and awkward, even a little intimidating. But now, one of your boyfriends softly rubbing his thumb over your bare thigh, looking at you with so much love and devotion in his eyes— it wasn't at all what you had expected. 

You thought it would be hard to answer, hard to admit the truth, but all you felt was sure. 

Right as you opened your mouth to reply, Billy interrupted you, “Stu, come on in.” 

Somehow you had forgotten about that knock on the door right before Billy revealed the shirt. 

Before you could feel bad about it the door opened and Stu stepped in, his footsteps heavy on the floor and revealing that he had changed his clothes. The earlier relaxed shirt and pants exchanged for just one black robe that made you question if he was even wearing anything underneath it anymore. 

“Now,” Billy continued and smirked in Stu’s direction, “Why the hearts, doll?” 

This time you didn't hesitate for even a second. 

“Because I love you.” 

You surprised yourself with how steady and sure you sounded, no room for debate in your statement. 

Stu stepped closer and placed a hand on your other thigh. You realized he was wearing gloves and looked down at his hand for a split second before snapping your eyes up at him. 

“I love you.” 

You could feel Billy squeeze the soft flesh of your thigh in answer at the same time as Stu slowly slid his hand up your thigh and between them, then slowly down again. He repeated that same path steadily and just as teasingly everytime. 

“You don't care what we did? Or do?” Stu questioned and looked at you with wide eyes, confident but with a hint of awe.

“I care that you're safe,” you started, “And that you're here. I care that you love me.” 

You felt the bed dip slightly as Billy sat on the edge and leaned over you to press a painfully soft kiss to your forehead. “And we do, doll.” 

With a soft sigh, you melted into the sheets, your legs softly parting further which didn't go unnoticed by your boyfriends. 

“Do you still want this?” 

Do you still want us?

Stu’s hand stopped at the top of your thigh where he squeezed it and you immediately missed the continued slide of his hand along your skin, but simultaneously wanted him to keep squeezing and grabbing and taking. 

You let out a soft whine and lifted your hips into their touch before letting your legs fall open, “More than anything.”

Stu groaned next to you and rested one knee on the bed and before you could properly look his way he had already grabbed your jaw, turned your face towards his, and kissed you with desperate passion. 

The kiss was all tongue and teeth, Stu biting your lip and your teeth knocking into each other as he desperately clung to you. His hand slipped from squeezing your thighs to the fabric between them, you keened at the soft pressure on your cunt and pushed your hips into the touch. 

As you started grinding against his gloved hand, the sleeve of Stu’s robe brushed against your legs and made you squirm. 

You pulled away from the kiss with hesitation and looked down Stu’s arm, and finally really looked at what he was wearing. 

“Stu,” you tried holding in a laugh but were succeeding only slightly as you continued, “What the fuck are you wearing?” 

Billy barked a surprised laugh and Stu looked at you with equal surprise, his brows furrowed in slight confusion before he looked down at himself and back up at you. 

There was amusement in his eyes but he still sported that smirk that seemed permanently glued to his face. 

When you turned your head and looked at Billy he was grinning at you too and you suddenly felt like there was something very significant you were missing. 

“What?” you questioned softly. 

“D’you want to tell her what you're wearing, Stu or should I?” 

“I would be happy to,” Stu purred and settled further onto the bed as his hand still firmly pressed to your core started a slow rhythm of pressure and movement. 

You whined between clenched teeth as you desperately tried to keep your composure. 

“What I'm wearing, angel, is what we always wear — during.” 

Oh.

The information took a couple seconds to fully register in your mind but when it did your eyes widened and you stared at Stu, then your gaze wandered down his neck and over the curve of his shoulder, along his arm and to his chest. 

The black fabric of the robe pooled at his hips with how his legs were angled and you imagined what it would look like when he moved. What it would look like when he was walking, running, lifting his arms, swinging around where he stood. 

You noticed the hood that was lying over his shoulder on his back and wondered how it would frame his face. 

“Is your face free when— you know?” You couldn't quite bring yourself to finish the sentence but your meaning was clear. 

Stu's grin widened and he jumped off the bed with a little too much excitement. 

“Oh now you've asked the right question,” Billy murmured and reminded you that his hand was still on your leg as he gently slid it up to play with the edge of your panties. 

Stu was rummaging through the closet for a few seconds before making a noise of triumph and standing up straight again. He didn't immediately turn around, instead he pulled something over his head and lifted the hood as well. 

There was an odd mixture of anticipation and nervousness swirling in your stomach that Billy was immediately calming when his hand drifted to rub over your clothed cunt. 

You let out a deep sigh and felt your eyes almost drift closed when Stu finally turned around and you were confronted with the mask. A white face that was permanently locked in a scream, dark hollow eyes staring at you. 

You remembered the news mentioning a witness that had seen a masked individual running from the house of one victim, and for a moment you knew what the people confronted with this view usually felt— fear. Deep seated fear. 

But you knew who was behind the mask. You loved who was behind the mask. And when Stu cocked his head to the side slowly your breath stuck in your throat, and you swallowed thickly. 

Good lord, that really shouldn't be hot. 

After a few seconds of staring you heard Billy snort a laugh and could barely peel your eyes off of Stu long enough to look at him quizzically. 

“Your hips got a mind of their own, do they?” He pointedly looked down at where his hand was still slowly rubbing against you, and when you followed his gaze you realized you were grinding your hips in time with his rhythm. 

You expected to feel ashamed at how much seeing your boyfriend in his murder outfit turned you on but you didn't. All you wanted was more of them. 

Billy pulled his hand away from you and your instinct was to grab his arm and get him to keep touching you but instead, you felt a pull at your wrist and remembered that your arms were still tied up stretched above your head. 

The bed dipped once more as Stu climbed on top of it and right between your legs. He grabbed your ankles and pulled your legs apart without any resistance from you before moving his hands up your calves and thighs until he reached your underwear. 

“Damn you look good in these,” Stu mumbled under the mask and you felt your face get warm. 

“Should take them off, get a better view,” you said, which elicited a chuckle from both your boyfriends. 

“That would be a mighty shame, doll.” 

Billy put his hand on your stomach and stroked your skin with his thumb at the same time as Stu slowly dipped his gloved thumbs beneath the lace around your hips.

Your hips rose into Stu’s touch no matter how small it was, as you pulled on the restraints around your wrists and whined wordlessly for more. More more more, please—

“Need something?” Billy asked, amusement clear in his voice. It was hard to hold back a groan but you knew that wasn't going to help your situation one bit. 

So you gathered all the focus you could and looked at Billy with lidded eyes. “I need more, please.” 

“I'm not the one you have to ask, gorgeous.”

You groaned long and low and lifted your head to look at Stu between your legs who was still steadily caressing the skin on your hips right below the lace. 

“Stu—,” you bit back a whine, not wanting to seem too desperate even though you were. “Please, I need more.” 

Whatever reaction Stu had was hidden from you behind the mask and the short silence made you squirm and pull on your restraints again. 

“Whatever you want, pretty girl.”

Stu lowered himself to the bed and between your thighs, pulling his thumbs out from under your underwear and sliding up your stomach before lowering to your legs. He spread you apart further, making space for himself right where he loved to be. 

You expected him to pull your underwear off next but instead, Stu rubbed his fingers over the fabric and nudged your pulsing clit over and over again. It was just enough stimulation to make your head fall back and to make you moan in relief, but not quite enough to be what you craved. 

Both Billy and Stu were more than aware of that fact and waited in the silence that was only filled by your heady whines as you squirmed and started grinding your hips into Stu’s fingers. 

“For fuck’s sake, please.”

Stu chuckled lowly under the mask and finally moved his touch beneath your panties. He pulled them to the side and hummed appreciatively at the view as he put his hand above your cunt and slowly rubbed his thumb over your clit. 

You sighed in relief and arched your back off the bed, spreading your thighs just a bit more. 

Billy was still softly stroking his hand over your stomach and slowly drifted his touch up to cup your covered chest. 

“As good as you look in this,” Billy said as he stared at your tits hidden beneath the lace, “Can't quite do what I want with it on.” 

Stu hummed in thought as he increased the pressure on your clit. 

“Think it's time for surprise number three?” 

“More like surprise number two,” Billy countered. “She already knew about the first one, didn't she?” 

You whined and nodded vaguely as you pulled on your restraints again, wrapping your hands around the rope to have something to hold onto. 

The ever building need from being teased distracted you enough to not question what your boyfriends were talking about until you felt Billy dip his hand under one of the pillows. 

When you looked at him again he was pulling something out from underneath— a knife. 

You gulped slightly at the sight of it and took in the details. The blade was long enough to cause some significant damage, but short enough to be easily hidden. You noticed the curve towards the tip of it and the sharp point at the end. 

The handle was black and your eyes stuck to the metal cap at the end, a small bump reflecting the light into your eyes. 

“What—,” your question was cut short when you felt something very familiar and looked down to see Stu’s mask sitting crooked on his head and pushed away enough for him to rest the fabric on your lower stomach, his mouth now on your pussy. 

He swirled his tongue through your folds and up to circle your clit before dipping back down to gather the wetness that was steadily dripping out of you. 

You almost let your head fall back onto the pillows again when you saw Billy lift the knife and touch the cold metal down on your chest. The breath stuck in your throat as you watched closely what he would do next. 

“Don't worry, doll. Would never hurt you.” 

Billy settled properly against your side, both of you now looking down your body right at where he was teasingly sliding the tip of the blade over your skin. Lower still was Stu, hungrily lapping at your cunt and humming in pleasure at your taste hidden under the mask. 

The noises pouring out of you were quiet but sounded just as beautiful to both Billy and Stu, the latter of which was losing his mind between your thighs. He wrapped his arms around your thighs, one hand keeping your panties pulled to the side, the other grabbing and squeezing your soft skin. 

Stu was groaning in pleasure as he ran his tongue over your clit again and again, listening for your moans and whines, feeling your thighs tense and relax in rhythm with his strokes. 

He was in heaven. 

Billy wasn't doing any better. His eyes kept switching between staring at Stu between your legs and the knife still slowly brushing over the skin on your stomach. 

Stu and he had many conversations about telling you. Discussing whether or not it was a horrible idea, trying to decide how they would tell you if they did. Neither of them had imagined it would end well so they weren't going to say anything. 

Then that shirt. Those damn hearts, carefully stitched onto the sleeve over pearly white fabric where there used to be stains. 

Their latest victim, Aaron, had been particularly motivated to fight back and ripped a hole into Billy's robe which allowed some splatter to hit the fabric beneath. 

Both of them had been too exhausted to think you might notice the blood when you did laundry, hoping they'd wake up before you and take care of it. 

When Billy noticed the hearts in the morning his own had damn near stopped before doing a little summersault in his chest. He immediately showed Stu and they started planning, full of hope. 

Looking at you now, knowing and still writhing on the sheets, pushing your hips into Stu's mouth and bearing yourself to them open and vulnerable and loving— It was addicting. 

Billy moved his hand not holding the knife to your hair, softly grabbing and lifting your head to make you watch as he slid the blade over your skin and under the lace right between your tits. 

Your eyes were glued to the knife as Billy twisted it and lifted the sharp edge against the lace, cutting it and watching it fall. 

“I really liked that one,” you murmured, which earned you a chuckle from Stu who still had his lips firmly around your clit, the vibrations pulsing through you and making your thighs squeeze around his shoulders as you moaned. 

“Sorry, doll,” Billy said, not sounding sorry at all. 

He slid the blade over your skin again, this time making the lace fall to the side and revealing your chest fully. Your nipples were already hard and Billy groaned appreciatively before surprising you as he let the blade glide over your tits, catching on your nipples and making you gasp. 

You wanted to throw your head back again, wanted to arch your back and moan out your pleasure and need, but Billy still had your hair firmly in his grip and made you watch the blade slide over your breasts and bump your nipples over and over again. 

“Please—,” you were cut off by your own moan as Stu suddenly slid two of his, now ungloved,  fingers inside you, immediately pumping them in and out in a rhythm that made your thighs shake. 

“Please what?” 

Stu’s voice was muffled under the mask and by the fact that he barely pulled away from your cunt to speak. He quickly got back to work and swirled his tongue over your clit, angling his fingers just right on every stroke inside you.

“I— I don't know,” your words trailed off into a moan and you pushed your hips into Stu's touch.

Billy chuckled as he finally let go of your hair and your head fell into the pillows, your back arching off the sheets and your hands pulling on the rope again. 

“She doesn't know,” Billy's voice was laced with amusement. 

“What are we going to do with her, huh Stu?” 

“I have some ideas,” Stu said into your cunt as he pulled his fingers out of you again. 

You whined in frustration and were about to voice your complaints when you felt something nudge against your entrance. 

The desperation to feel something inside you again made you not question how you couldn't feel Billy playing with your nipples anymore, and you spread your legs eagerly.

When something cold was pushed into you slowly your eyes went wide and you whipped your head around to look at Billy, who was already smirking down at you. 

“Yes, doll?” 

“Is that—?” 

Stu chuckled again and lifted one hand to pull the mask off his face completely, revealing his wide grin, your dripping cunt, and the knife. The handle was halfway inside you and Stu pushed it in further, the fingers of the one hand still wearing a glove carefully holding onto the blade. 

You couldn't hold back the moan that burst out of you when you were finally full again, your mind not caring that it was a knife handle currently slowly being fucked into you.

Billy groaned at the sight and your noises before lowering his head and wrapping his lips around your nipples, the warm soft pressure a stark difference to how the blade had felt. 

The noises between your legs were getting louder and filthier with every perfectly angled thrust that Stu delivered, and you were losing your mind more with each one.

Billy still had his mouth attached to one of your nipples and started playing with the other one as well, rolling the hard nub between his fingers and slightly pulling on it now and then. 

The rope around your wrists made noises where it was tied to the bedposts as you continuously pulled on it. 

“Careful, angel,” Stu said, lips dangerously close to your clit again, “Don’t want to hurt yourself with that. ‘Cause the rope sure as hell isn’t going to break”

You whined in response and pulled on it even harder out of spite which resulted in a sharp stinging pain shooting through you from two ends when Billy and Stu both had the same idea— Billy quickly biting your nipple and Stu slapping your thigh hard.  

Your resounding moan echoed through the room as your back arched off the bed. 

Stu groaned at your reaction and adjusted the angle of the knife handle still thrusting into you before promptly wrapping his lips around your swollen clit again. 

Billy gave a quick apologetic lick over your nipple before going back to his previous teasing, sucking and swirling. 

The angle Stu had on the knife handle now made your eyes roll back and your thighs shake, stuck between wanting to close and spread open even more. You couldn’t think straight and felt your orgasm build inside you. The familiar flutter in your stomach followed by a dance of tensing and relaxing muscles, your thighs shaking even more than before and your hand grabbing and pulling the restraints once again. 

To your dismay, Stu had noticed your building orgasm as well and instead of doing what he usually does, everything in his power to get you there, he released your clit from his mouth with an obscene pop and slowed his thrusts to a stop. 

“No, no no, please,” you started whimpering but it was no use, your orgasm had already started to fade as you were left on the edge.

“I’m sorry, angel, I really am,” Stu kissed the inside of your thighs in apology, and to his credit, he truly sounded unhappy with having to stop you from cumming. 

“Just need you to keep holding on for a bit, love,” Billy mumbled before getting right back to work and swirling his tongue over your nipple, pinching the other. You knew they obviously had a plan, and it was sure to end with you blissed out of your mind, but right now you were too shortsighted from the thick and sticky need inside you to care. 

When Stu was sure your almost orgasm had subsided he started moving the knife again, as well as slowly licking over your clit for which he was rewarded with your thighs desperately trying to close around his head. 

Some distant part inside you was screaming to be more careful with a blade so close to your most sensitive areas, not to mention Stu’s face, but you were so far gone that all you wanted was to feel pleasure and to feel as much of it as you possibly could. 

Stu twisted the knife handle again and you suddenly remembered the small bump at the end of the handle as it was steadily rubbing along your walls and right over that sensitive spot. 

You sobbed a moan so loud that both Billy and Stu groaned in response and doubled their efforts, Billy running his teeth over your nipple and Stu now finally speeding up both the knife handle inside you and his tongue on your clit. 

When your orgasm started building again you tried not to let it show in your reactions, but your boyfriends knew you in and out. 

Billy pulled off your nipple suddenly, “Still have to hold it, doll.” He blew cold air on your chest and chuckled as you cursed at him. 

“I’m gonna kill you guys, just—” 

Stu barked a laugh, “Now that’s an idea.” He sucked on your clit harshly and continued torturing you with slow, wide passes of his tongue. 

“How would you do it, angel?”

Billy groaned and started kissing up your chest to your neck, his fingers still pinching and pulling on your nipples. 

You scoured your mind for details of the victims you saw on the news, trying to remember how they usually did the job before you spoke which was proving difficult with your orgasm so close. 

“Stab you,” you panted out before whining at the combined stimulation of the knife handle still being thrust into you hard, Stu’s lips around your clit, and Billy’s teeth running along your throat. 

“Make sure I make you bleed, and—,” you moaned loudly and tried catching your breath while still holding off your orgasm, “And make sure I watch if you don’t let me cum right this second—,” you trailed off into a whine that sounded more like a sob and arched your back desperately. 

You felt more than heard Stu groan against your cunt and get faster and harder, grinding that bump on the handle against your insides so perfectly you could feel tears gather in your eyes, his tongue on your clit doing exactly what you needed. 

“Should use that knife too, doll,” Billy murmured and it was clear which knife he was talking about. “Don’t have to christen a new one first.”

With that, Billy started biting your neck more, sure to be leaving marks and bruises in his wake. When your mind finally caught on to what he had said and what it meant, you surprised yourself by promptly falling over the edge of your orgasm. 

Your thighs shook around Stu’s head and your back arched off the bed, your arms straining against the rope keeping them up and out of the way, Billy delivering two quick slaps to your tits as he groaned praises against your neck that you couldn’t hear through the rushing in your ears. 

The orgasm lasted even longer due to both your boyfriends working you through it and not slowing down, keeping the rolling pleasure in your lower stomach going and stoking the fire coursing through your veins. 

Soon enough you felt it again, that building in your stomach, though this time it came faster and was impossible to stop. 

The tears in your eyes finally fell as you were plunged headfirst into another orgasm, sobbing your pleasure out into the room. Then you felt something else too, a wetness between your thighs where your orgasm was gushing out of you and splashing into the face of one very happy Stu Macher. The man in question was still thrusting the knife handle into your cunt but had detached from your clit just enough to speak, his thumb now frantically rubbing over your clit to keep stoking your orgasm. 

“That’s it, there you fucking go,” Stu said with his eyes still glued to your cunt. 

“That’s our girl,” Billy murmured close to your ear, still kissing and licking over your neck and the bruises he had left there. 

Once the splashes between your thighs slowed and your pussy felt properly overstimulated, you whined for Stu to slow down. Though your words were slurred Stu followed directions carefully and slowed his thrusts to a stop, giving one last slow and heavy lap over your cunt with his tongue. 

Billy pulled away from your neck as you were quietly sniffling and breathing heavily in his grasp. Stu lifted off the bed and slowly pulled the knife handle out from your puffy and used pussy. 

He grinned at you happily, his face covered and dripping with evidence of your orgasms, as he lifted the knife, held it so you could see, and swiped his other hand over the blade. 

The clear liquid he wiped off splashed onto your stomach you heard Billy huff a laugh next to you. The move looked practiced but you didn’t think too hard about it in the moment.

Stu carefully threw the knife behind him where it landed somewhere on the ground before he bit the glove and pulled his hand out, throwing it, as well as the black robe he had still been wearing which he pulled up and off over his head, onto the floor too, and you finally got to admire his naked form. 

Beside you, Billy followed suit and peeled his shirt and boxers off, revealing himself to you fully. 

“You okay?” the question wasn’t unprecedented, you still had tears slowly falling from your eyes as you came down from your orgasms, but instead of words, all you could get out were small giggles. Your thighs fell open completely and your back relaxed as you melted into the sheets. 

“Oh I’m fantastic,” you sighed and stared up and Billy with a wide smile. He looked at you with an equally wide grin full of fondness and when you faced Stu, he sported a similar expression. 

“Now can one of you please undo this damn rope and fuck me already,” you said and pulled on the rope in emphasis. 

You were still enjoying the soft blissful feeling from your orgasms when Billy and Stu stood at the sides of the bed and each untangled the rope from the bedposts. 

With your arms mostly free you stretch out on the bed happily with a dreamy sigh when Stu leaned over you and pressed a kiss to your lips so full of love you whimpered against him. At the same time, you felt Billy grab the lace panties on your hips and pull them off your legs. 

Then you were being moved, your limbs loose and unresisting. They helped roll you onto your front as Stu quickly slid himself beneath your body, your thighs spread over his hips and your face resting on his chest as you breathed him in. You had almost forgotten the cut open lace bra still hanging loosely around your shoulders when Billy grabbed the flimsy fabric from behind you quickly pulled it off your arms.

With whatever strength you had left you lifted yourself up and kissed a path down Stu’s chest to his hips, soft kisses interrupted by wayward bites to his skin. 

Stu groaned and smiled down at you, one arm bent behind his head and the other moving to thread his fingers into your hair, not pulling or moving, just there. 

When you were finally face to face with Stu’s dick you stuck out your tongue to run along the curve of it, making the man hum appreciatively. You repeated the same path a couple more times, swirling your tongue over his leaking tip on each pass until he groaned and closed his fist in your hair. 

He still refrained from moving you but you could tell he was losing his composure fast, so you unceremoniously wrapped your lips around his cock and slowly slid down halfway before pulling back up just as slowly. 

“Taking initiative I see,” Billy chuckled behind you as his hands found your hips, fingertips digging into your soft skin there. You hummed an affirmative which made Stu groan and push your head down further on the next slide down. 

“God, she feels good,” Stu groaned through bitten lips and you felt pride surge deep inside you. 

If there was one thing you loved, it was having your mouth wrapped around your boyfriend’s dicks. Of course, you loved them both fiercely and you loved when they doted on you and spoiled you with pleasure and orgasms, mouth, fingers, and passionate fucking, but there was a certain pride you felt when you had your lips wrapped around them and were able to make them groan and pull on your hair in pleasure. 

So you were having the time of your life, giving Stu a slow and steady blowjob, teasing soft moans out of him, and feeling him tense under your hands on his thigh and hip. 

“Looks like she’s in the mood for some payback after making her wait for her orgasms, Stu,” Billy said amused as if Stu hadn’t caught onto that himself yet with his cock aching to fuck your throat. 

“Even if the wait was worth it and she made a beautiful mess.”

That’s when you felt Billy slowly rubbing the tip of his cock against your cunt, gathering wetness and spreading precum over your folds. You whined around Stu’s length which seemed to be his breaking point. 

He grabbed your hair properly and pushed you down on his dick, knowing you could take it, and reveled in the choked sound you made when he slid into your throat and your lips met the base of him.  

Billy chuckled behind you and rubbed his cock over your sensitive clit, “Looks like Stu’s a lot less patient than you, doll.”

You whined as Stu pulled out of your throat again and arched your back to push your cunt against Billy, wanting nothing more than to have him inside you. 

“Hmm, maybe not,” Billy murmured and slowly pushed the tip of his cock into you. 

Your eyes fell closed as you groaned and enjoyed the feeling of Stu sliding over your tongue again and again, happy that your mouth was occupied and you couldn’t unload what would have surely been an unintelligible mess of slurred words.

Billy slowly shifted his hips forward until they connected to your ass, his cock now fully seated inside you. He sighed in satisfaction and squeezed your hips before moving one hand to grab your ass. 

“You know, we thought we’d try fucking you at the same time,” Billy spoke as if he was contemplating something and not making you and Stu both moan with just one sentence. 

“But we didn’t want to overwhelm you,” he finally started moving, slowly pulling out of you before slamming his hips back against your ass. 

“There’s always next time, right?”

With that, the dam broke. Billy fucked into you deep and hard with every thrust, keeping up a rhythm that was making you whine and whimper around Stu’s cock who was equally a mess as you. Stu was still moving your head up and down his length, but his other hand had found its way into the sheets where he was holding on for dear life. 

You weren’t doing much better though, arching your back into Billy and letting out steady moans with every thrust of him, with every drag of his cock inside your sensitive cunt. 

Vaguely you thought about how sore you’d be after all this, but not a single part of you cared— It only made you moan louder and push back into every thrust, excited for every strain you’d feel in your muscles.

Under you, Stu was slowly feeling something build. He knew he shouldn’t, that wasn’t the plan, but your mouth felt too good and your throat was too welcoming and addicting to stop. 

He was sure this was going to be it when Billy reached down to grab his wrist and pull your head off of his dick. Stu groaned even though he was deeply thankful that his boyfriend could read him so well. 

“Not yet, Stu.” 

Billy let go of Stu’s wrist and went back to holding onto your hip with a bruising grip as Stu untangled your hair from his fingers. “Sorry, angel,” he said, “different plan.”

You whined softly but gasped when Billy redoubled his efforts and pounded into you harder than before. The weight behind the thrusts pushed you up the bed and made you collapse on top of Stu, Billy’s cock sliding out of you. 

As soon as the empty sensation had registered in your mind you pulled your knees back under you and lifted your hips, whimpering wordless pleas and clenching around nothing as your cunt dripped wet and needy down your thighs. 

Behind you, Billy groaned at the sight and spread your ass with his hands, squeezing the flesh and dipping his thumbs down to spread your folds for him. 

“God, look at this needy cunt,” you whimpered in response and arched your back lower.

“I’ll give you what you want, doll.”

Billy pushed back inside you without hesitation and immediately resumed his fast and unforgiving pace. 

Through tearstained lashes you stared up at Stu, still lying with your front on his chest and your arms weakly lying at his sides. 

What you hadn’t quite noticed before but were quickly reminded of was that when your boyfriends untied you, they had simply taken the rope off the bedposts, not off your wrists. 

So it came as a small surprise when Billy suddenly grabbed your wrists and pulled them behind your back where he tied the two ends together and pulled them taut. 

You were once again restrained but this time your hands rested on your lower back where Billy was holding them down and using them as leverage to both arch your back further and to pound into your pussy faster and harder. 

Without Stu’s cock in your mouth to muffle your moans, you were sobbing and babbling out your pleasure, “Fuck, please— please, don’t stop. Want, fuck, more. I— Please—.” 

Billy chuckled at your slurred words, but it was clear he was also affected by the pace he had set and the way you kept clenching down around him. 

Stu was looking down at the both of you, feeling ridiculously fond in a moment like this. He lifted one hand to pet your hair slowly and cooed soft encouragements as he lowered the other to wrap around his own leaking cock. 

Next thing you knew you felt Stu rub his cock against your clit, spreading precum and giving that last bit of stimulation you needed.  

The string in your stomach that had just started to feel distantly present suddenly whipped to the forefront and snapped all in one moment. 

Your third orgasm shot through you with such intensity that your breath caught in your throat,  a bitten off whine being the only warning your boyfriends had. 

Then you were shaking between them, arms limp and still being pushed into your lower back, your thighs threatening to collapse if it hadn’t been for Billy who was frantically thrusting inside you as your pussy squeezed around him in a far too enticing rhythm. 

He groaned when your cunt dripped obscenely between you, splashing his hips on every thrust and making him follow you over the edge. 

With the last powerful thrusts, Billy pounded his orgasm into you, the warm feeling making you whine through the orgasmic haze which was kept going by Stu still rubbing his cockhead over your wet clit. 

Billy groaned through the endless feeling of your pussy milking every last drop out of his cock and pulled you close by your tied hands, wanting to cum as deeply inside you as possible. 

When both you and Billy started to come down from your respective highs, Stu was still panting below you and helplessly holding onto your waist, his cock painfully hard, leaking, covered in your wetness resting against his stomach. 

Billy was the first to find his words again, “I could do that for hours.”

You let out a soft chuckle when Stu piped up, desperation clear in his voice, “You pretty much have, dude. It’s my turn.”

The painfully needy quality of his voice made you giggle but Billy slowly pulling out of your cunt made your giggle turn into a soft whimper. 

The sticky feeling of cum dripping out of you didn’t last long as Billy pushed your hips forward and settled you on Stu’s lap properly, his cock nudging your entrance before you were lowered onto it and slowly spread open again. 

You whined a high and sensitive sound that had both Billy and Stu cooing at you, though Stu sounded quite distracted which you couldn’t blame him for. 

Your own mind was completely zeroed into the feeling of being filled once more, and how Billy’s cum was pooling around the base of Stu’s cock as it was pushed out. 

“This what you were whining for so much, Stu?” Billy asked amused and Stu replied with a long groan as he shifted his hips under you. 

“Always,” Stu mumbled and placed his hands on your hips, keeping you in place and lifted enough for him to start slowly fucking up into your warm cunt. 

“Love this pussy so much,” his voice sounded whinier than usual and slightly strained as he got used to the rhythm he was setting.

The sounds coming from your dripping pussy made your face feel warm and your neck flush as you leaned your head back where it met Billy’s shoulder. 

Billy had settled to kneel behind you, his hands snaking around your waist to pull your back to his chest and help keep you still for Stu. 

He continued whispering and cooing soft praises into your ears.

“There you go, doll.” 

“That’s it.”

“Right there, huh?”

“Taking it so well, doll.” 

His words and the feeling of Stu’s cock had you whining and moaning incoherently, nodding your head without being sure what you were replying to and your thighs shaking underneath you. 

Stu’s thrust became faster as he stood his feet flat on the mattress for leverage, as well as harder as it became clear that he was letting out his frustration from not being able to cum down your throat earlier. 

Your own moans became more desperate and louder still in response.

Billy was looking over your shoulder, your head thrown back over his, and stared at Stu who had his eyes closed and brows furrowed. He knew Stu was trying to make you cum again, desperate to feel you milk him dry as well, but he was so far gone he couldn’t think. 

So Billy took it upon himself to help and slid one of his hands down your stomach to your clit and started rubbing fast circles over the poor swollen and red nub. 

The watery sob that tore out of your throat at the feeling was like music to his ears and he was just as determined to make you cum as Stu was. 

Stu’s eyes had blown open the moment he heard your sobbing moan and felt you clench around his cock, so he could watch as tears rolled down your cheeks and you arched your back into Billy. 

He squeezed your hips harder, sure to add his own bruises right next to the ones already forming that Billy had left you, and used all his willpower to hold back from blowing his load before you, pounding into your cunt over and over again. 

“C’mon, angel, you can do it,” he encouraged you and when you looked down at him and made eye contact with Stu, you came again. 

The orgasm made you sob and your hips twitch on top of Stu, thighs shaking, and your eyes threatened to close which you fought against to keep looking at Stu.

Billy was keeping the same merciless rhythm on your clit with his fingers and even reached with his other hand to roll your nipples between his fingers again.  

Your orgasm became overstimulating fast this time around, and you were almost ready to beg Stu to cum inside you already when you felt another orgasm fast approaching. 

You knew from the familiar pull in your stomach and ache in your cunt what was going to happen again. Finally, you couldn’t hold the instinct back anymore and threw your head back onto Billy’s shoulder as you came on Stu’s cock a second time before the previous orgasm had even properly stopped running through you. 

The unmistakable feeling of wetness splashing onto his lap hit Stu and he was done for, squeezing your hips with a loud whining moan as he pulled you down onto his cock and came inside you, feeling your cunt flutter and clench as you came on top of him. 

He was whining louder the longer you sat surrounding him, cumming and crying your way through it. 

When Billy finally slowed and stopped his fingers rubbing over your clit you relaxed and slumped into him. 

“Fucking gorgeous, both of you,” he said and kissed your shoulder before slowly lowering you down to fully lay on top of Stu who welcomed you with open arms. 

Billy immediately got to work untying your hands and threw the ropes down to the ground somewhere next to everything else that had landed there. He kissed your back softly and leaned over your exhausted form to press a kiss to Stu’s lips before he got off the bed and went to get a warm washcloth. 

You were exhausted, sticky, and the happiest you had ever been with your head buried in Stu’s neck, the man’s arms wrapped around you and pulling you close. 

“Thank you,” you mumbled under your breath and Stu hummed softly as he petted your hair. 

“Thank you, angel.” 

You smiled and buried yourself deeper into Stu’s hold. Before you could question where Billy went, you felt his hands softly wrap around your hips and slowly lift you up and off Stu’s softening cock. 

The rush of your, Billy’s, and Stu’s cum mixed together and dripping out of you made you whine quietly and if there was any strength left inside, you would have slipped your hand down to push the mess back into you. But you were exhausted and didn’t have the energy for more. 

Billy softly cleaned himself, you, and Stu up before laying down next to the two of you and pulling your spent and tired body to rest between them. 

“I really don’t want to change the sheets right now but I need a nap,” you mumbled and earned a chuckle from both your boyfriends who were rubbing their hands over your sore muscles. 

“Then we’ll nap and clean the rest up later. Nothing wrong with a little mess,” Stu chuckled, your own small huffs of laughter joining in as Billy shook his head fondly. 

“You guys are impossible.”

“You love us,” you said with a grin and Billy fell silent. 

“I really do,” he said and lifted your head enough to press his lips against yours in a slow but deep kiss. 

Beside you, Stu squirmed as he watched and waited, pulling your face to his when you and Billy separated. 

“I love you guys too,” he mumbled into your mouth before slipping his tongue in to deepen the kiss. He became a bit too passionate as both you and Billy noticed, “Don’t start something none of us can finish right now, baby.”

Stu whined at Billy’s words and pulled away from your lips to give Billy a kiss too before finally settling back in bed and smiling like the cat that caught the canary. 

The three of you settled in the silence for a while and just enjoyed feeling each other close, the warmth and comfort in the touch. 

Billy was the one to break the momentary silence. 

“Are you sure about this, doll? Now that you know?”

“I’ve been pretty sure for weeks,” you revealed and felt both your boyfriends hold their breath. 

“The shirt was the final confirmation. And I made a choice.” 

You lifted your head to look at the both of them. “I love you. And nothing is going to change that. I couldn’t stop loving you if I tried, which I never will.” 

Stu huffed a laugh, “Good.” 

“I love you. You love me. That’s what I care about.” 

You leaned over Stu to press a kiss to his chest, repeating the same for Billy. 

“I only need you to promise me that you’ll be careful. Don’t want to wake up one morning and see on the news that someone caught the infamous serial killers. Or that—,” you stopped your mind from going that road. Thinking about what you would do if one or both of them were caught or killed was not how you would end this wonderful, and frankly mindblowing experience. 

“We’ll be extra careful, doll, promise.” 

Billy pressed a kiss to your temple and pulled you closer as Stu kissed your shoulder. 

“Yeah, promise.”

You smiled softly at them before letting yourself properly melt into the sheets and their arms. 

“Good. Now can we please nap?”

Both your boyfriends huffed a laugh and made an affirmative noise as they shifted closer to you, wrapping their arms around you and each other. 

There was a lot you still had to talk about, but those conversations could wait.

For now, there were just three people, sweaty and sticky in bed, slowly dozing off to sleep as they held onto each other, all so madly in love with each other they would give the world to stay together. 

And you wouldn't want it any other way.

Consider leaving a comment or reblog along with your like, they're always lovely to see. Eitherway, thank you for reading! <3

[delphi-shield]

— 「 CASUAL 」

↳ TRACK A

lighter x reader — 1.1k

summary: that's how Trouble started. capital T, looks like you - talks like you, too.

content: pining, vaguely suggestive, fluff, slice of life. divider by @/diviniyae

No one runs to the Outer Ring. You run from something else, trip, stumble, and wind up flat on your ass on cracked asphalt, baking in the sun. From there, you've got two choices - lay there til the dust covers you up or pick yourself up and keep heading down the road.

Out here, you don't ask. Lighter likes it that way. Less trouble. You had blown in one day with your bags under your arms, hopped right out the back of Steel Tusk, and that was that. Piper had given a lazy introduction while you bustled past her, hauling supplies out the back before you found a place to put your own things.

You settled in just fine in Blazewood. He suspects you made it off savings for a bit. When you were fresh off the boat, you'd been eager to help, to prove you could carry your weight - first to declare you could pitch in, awkward when negotiating payment.

That changed quick when you found your place in town. The second you decided this was where you were putting your roots down was the second you left your best behavior behind. Now they had you, warts and all. Must have run through your savings, too, because your rates went up and you'd stopped turning down tips.

He's doesn't ask, but he wonders.

You're on the periphery of his mind more than he realizes. All these observations keep piling up - and no matter what Lucy says or how Caesar's eyes light up when you drop into the booth next to him, it's just friendly. He notices little stuff about everyone.

One night, Burnice sloshes over with her hands full of nitro-fuel, squeezing into the booth next to you - which makes you lean into him, which presses him into the wall, which makes you plant your hand on his thigh, fingers curling into the material, pressing, making him picture the divots in his skin, the way he would yield to your touch and –

That's how Trouble started. Capital T, looks like you - talks like you, too. Leaves your scent hanging in every room, has his head on a swivel. He doesn't bother denying it anymore.

You'd offered to help him with his scarf, save him the trouble of pricking his finger by threading the needle for him. Maybe you've been eyeing him the same way he's been watching you. You knew better than to try to take the task over entirely, had clarified upfront that wasn't your intention.

Just come over, you'd said. Bring his stuff by, and you'd help. You look surprised when he actually knocks on your door, (to be honest, he's surprised too) but you step out onto the porch with a pitcher of water and beckon for him to take a seat.

(It's a creaky old rocking chair; one you'd pulled from a hollow with Piper not too long ago. He'd walked up on you trying to beat the dust out of the cushion with little success. Lighter had been drafted to the cause the moment his boot hit the bottom stair. Now, sitting in that same chair and twisting his scarf back and forth over his hands, his stomach warms with the domestic touch.)

Lighter's little sewing kit must look pretty pitiful to you, but he balances it on a thigh and plucks the needle from the crevice it's hiding in. Don't start, he wants to say. It's all a mess and he knows it is, nothing stored properly - hell, he doesn't know what half of this is even for.

"It's hard to do with gloves.” You wink, fingers brushing his when you take the needle from him.

The words dry up. He pours himself a glass of water and rocks back.

He's no good at this.

Every touch lingers. You don't mean it to, but he can feel the heat soak through layers of leather, fingerprints searing into his skin. His heart's in his throat, teeth clenched. He winds his scarf across his hands again and again, runs the fabric against the worn leather palms of his gloves.

"Do you care if I put it in my mouth?"

Lighter's brain sizzles, a cracked egg on the hood of a hot truck. He's so grateful for his sunglasses, grateful you can't see the way his eyes shoot to your lips. Perfect smile pressing them together, that glossy sheen has got to be honey sweet, saccharine enough to make his stomach turn in the evening heat.

All he can do in return is stammer out 'uh', like some sort of old civilization caveman.

"The thread? Like - so I can thread it? It's easier if you wet it. I can use the water if that's weird."

"No," he says, too quick. "It's cool."

In reality, it takes you all of five seconds. You wet the thread, close an eye and tilt your head, and with one fluid motion the needle is threaded. You hand it back to him with a flourish. No blood, no nausea rising in his gut.

“That's it?” He asks, incredulous.

You nod and lean back in your chair, arms propped up behind you.

“That's it. Oh– here.” You fish something out of your pocket, small and shiny in your palm. “Try this. Gotta take the gloves off, though.”

There's a thimble in his little sewing kit, but he'd never found a use for it. Even when he sets it over his glove, this fits better. Had you stared at his hands before, silently measuring - or was this just a really good guess?

That's a good way to torment himself, coming up with questions like that. You're not like him, don't spin every little thing into something it's not. He says his thanks and starts to stand, rocking chair creaking in protest.

“You can do it here, if you want,” you say, words jumbling together. You shift your weight, tuck a leg up under yourself and look off to the setting sun. “The whole – thing. In case you need me to thread it again.”

Don't get your hopes up, he tells himself, even when you get up to turn the porch light on for him - even when you brush your hand against his shoulder, push the faintest bit and your touch pleads stay.

Lighter sinks back down. He peels a glove off and caps his finger with the thimble. The creaking of the rocker melts into the background of Blazewood. It gets cold out here when the sun goes down, but he doesn't need to remind you of that anymore. You sit with him while he closes up the seams bloodlessly. The night feels just a bit warmer.

[fiftyshadesofmetal]

Errrr uhh i like vore so,,,,,,,, what about your headcanons on it (anybot ofc)?

Sorry this has taken so long! This has been sitting in drafts for months

Vore HC'S for Cybertronians!

Specifically for Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Thundercraker, and Swoop

So to get my general HCS about cybertronian anatomy out of the way,

They can control digestion conciously. I think because of the control cybertronians have over their own systems, they could turn their digestion on and off!

Adding onto that, I believe that they could make their tanks as comfortable as they wanted: like cooling their insides down a bit, or easing up on the churning of their guts for their prey. So when they have a prey that they want to keep happy, the bots can be amazing preds.

I also like to think that their tanks have biolights in there, running along the tubing stuff that makes up their "organs". I like the idea of their prey being able to see whats happening in there, and I bet it would be fun to just explore and check out whats happening in their tanks. (And they could also be able to see the gut churning them, added bonus lol)

I dont HC bots with intestines or a duodenum/sphincter to the intestines. Things kind of just cut off at their tank. I think that their systems are incredibly effecient, so any fuel or prey that goes in is distributed in whole to the bots frame without any waste (also meaning that bots gain a lot more weight from a meal compared to a human because they put to use the ENTIRE portion of what they eat)

Lets talk about our preds now! There are mentions of weight gain and interfacing with Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, and Thundercracker, so I'll be putting themall under the cut, but enjoy a little bit of SFW Swoop up here ^^

Swoop: I enjoy swoop as a little guy ™ far too much to make HCS about him interfacing lol. But for some SFW vore stuff, Swoop is a very curious pred. The dinobot is like a pelican (pelicans are actually facinating, their oppurtusnitic predators and will literally try and eat anything they can fit in their beak), just kinda of gobbling down anybody he sees when he feels like it. He's also larger, so he can hold two average sized people comfortably, compared to a standard ground frame holding one person (I feel like seekers would be able to take like a person and a half?? Do with that info what you will). He's an extremely touch-based guy so he likes to just have people with him!

Sunstreaker: He's a total cunt. Just absolutely a bitch of a pred. He's taunting you ALL the time, poking and proding at his belly to get you to squirm because he likes how it feels. He definetly enjoys churning someone up every once in awhile, but doesn't indulge often due to the weight gain that comes with it, in order to keep his frame in top condition. That doesn't mean he doesn't eat people all the time. Sunstreaker's walking around the ark with a bit of his gut poking out from behind his torso plating? Someones 100% in there. He just likes how it feels to have someone in there squirming all the time, and thinks he has the right to just gulp down whoever he pleases. Of course, he also uses his tank to hold people in a emergency. Decepticons attacking and he has nowhere to put a random human- their going straight to his gut without him caring how terrifying it might be.

Sideswipe: Of course in contrast to his twin, Sideswipe is a really playful and tactile pred. While Sunstreaker despises humans unless their in his tank, Sideswipe adores humans and their culture. His little pea brain saw a human for the first time and just immeadialy wanted to eat them. When he did he loved the feeling, and refused to let the poor guy out for a day (Sunstreaker had to force Sideswipe to spit the guy out on Prowl's orders). Sideswipe is less of a fan of weight gain and digesting someone (even when he knows they'll be fine because of reformation), but loooves interfacing with someone in his belly. The stimulation from his innards and his valve makes it really good for him, so he often'll hunt somebody down to eat before interfacing (with their consent ofc, he's not evil). He's also inadvertantly TERRIFIED some of the prey he's eaten by just being too rough and excitable though. He's also a big softie and likes to take a nap with his prey if their stressed or keep his systems comfortable for them.

Thundercracker: (I'm talking IDW post-war, he probably wouldnt have cared much about humans pre Marissa and Buster) This guy is a total pushover. He is constantly fawning over his prey, ensuring they’re comfortable and cozy within him. The few times he has digested a prey, he gets really flustered about the weight he's gained and always apologizes to them profusely after they reform. He also eats Marissa constantly, much to her chagrin. The poor women cant get away from the affectionate seeker and finds herself spending far too much time tucked away into his gut. Thundercracker can also be very aroused when he eats prey (Like Marissa, but not every time he eats her ofc). The feeling of having so much power over somone so small the he's enamoured with make him very excited. He'll probably use it to get himself off and help whoevers in his belly off too.

[carnevol]

Austin with Benny’s tattoos

[canis-dentem]

sometimes when i think about forests and fields of wildflowers i get a deep ache inside of me. a lack of something that in this life was never there. i never truly understood what that meant.

i belong there; i should be that. i am the forest and the fields and the grass and the flowers and the sky and the stream.

being a wolf, being a dog, being an animal reminds me of my innate connection to the world around me, the nature around me. every time i get that ache, i think about myself being a creature and i get a little shift and it satisfies that ache. and instead of longing for home, i feel at home.

sometimes i have to remind myself that i am more than human. i feel human in lots of different ways, but i also feel canine in ways that might directly contradict being human. i am allowed to be contradictory; being a wolf doesn’t cancel out being a human.

i am me, human and nonhuman, in this body, having an individual experience. i exist within the boundary of human and animal—i am liminal, i am beautiful, i am me.

[carolmunson]

modern!eddie x tipsy!reader

“Ooh, someone had fun,” he giggles from the couch while you stumble into the living room. He knew what to expect the moment he got your texts an hour ago.

omg can’’t t wait to duxk u when i home get t ho home* duck***** fuck u***

tell me they were at least good quality shots

casa migos i

aw come on, i taught you better than that

and wine

yeah? what kind?

.rose?

rosé?

all day lol and espresSo

martini?

😎 ya

sweetheart, did you eat at all?

yes!! we’ee getting za we ate before and now done dri nking

okay, will i see you soon?

ya soon we can sex

He laughed at that one, a hearty belly laugh. You’re only like this when you’re wasted. Clawing and snarling like a starved animal at the sight of him, the thought of him.

When you stumble in you’re lucid for the most part but your eyes are glassy with evidence of a good night. He can tell you smoked too, which means you’ll need more ibuprofen than you normally do when you drink.

You drop your purse and jacket next to the door, kicking off your heels by the TV stand. He’ll pick them up later.

“Hi baby,” he smirks coolly while you make your way to him on the couch.

“I had so much fun,” you respond, unbuttoning your jeans and shimmying them off, “But I never wanna wear ‘standing jeans’ again.”

He doesn’t know what you mean by that but he doesn’t ask, just nods, welcoming you with open arms while you straddle his lap. The second your faced dips into his neck he knows your promises of ravaging him are long broken. Your body relaxes, sinking in against his chest.

“I’m glad you had a good night, sweetheart,” he murmurs quietly, hand sliding up and down your back. Your breaths come in slow, he can feel your lashes fluttering against his skin while you force yourself to stay awake.

“Would’ve been funner if you were there,” you say into the crook of his neck.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “You make everything fun.”

Eddie’s heart swells, “You think?”

You lean up, looking at him with glassy eyes, more tired than wasted, “I know.”

He leans his head back between the cushions, bangs dusting his eyes, “You make everything fun for me, too.”

You grin, a sloppy one, “You know how I can make tonight really fun?”

Your fingers skate up his chest, sending a shiver through him that stirs in his sweatpants.

“Sweetheart…” he warns gently.

“C’mon,” you whine, tugging at the hem of his t-shirt, “Please.”

“Doll, you’ve been drinkin’,” he reminds, reaching up to cup your cheek, “You know I don’t like playing around like that.”

“I’m not drunk though,” you protest, “I can do the drunk driver test. I swear.”

“By the way you’re falling asleep sitting up, I doubt it,” he laughs. He leans up, supporting you on his thighs while he goes in to plant a loving kiss on your lips, “I think we should head to bed.”

“Lame,” you frown, scrunching your face. You shimmy off his lap and cross your arms, walking down the hall to the bedroom.

“Kissin’ me like that like some kinda Cassanova…” you grumble. He rolls his eyes, getting some water and aspirin for you while you change into some pajamas.

“That’s what the call me. Eddie Casanova Munson,” he grizzles, leaning against the door frame with the glass and pills and hand, “Your libations, princess.”

Your sour look doesn’t fade when you take them, but you to say a quiet thank you when the pills pass your lips.

“Am I not fun anymore?” he teases.

“No, you’re still fun,” you sigh, crawling into bed where he follows. Eddie takes a silent win when you wrap yourself around him after sliding between the sheets.

“I’ll be more fun tomorrow,” he smiles, burying himself in your neck. You feel his warm scratchy chin and shiver, soft kisses following it, “It’s gonna rain.”

“That doesn’t sound very fun,” you murmur, the bed feeling cozier with every passing moment while the alcohol rushes in you for one last sleepy hurrah.

“Yeah it is,” he responds quietly, feeling you grow heavy and slack against him, “We can stay in all day.”

“Boring.”

“Boring huh?” he smirks, “I don’t know, I thought maybe we could revisit your texts.”

[piglinmyfeet]

Etho is Joel's work wife, Joel's Etho's manic pixie dream girl, and Joel is Iskalls mysterious stranger, I fucking guess, idk

[toast753]

Hatsune Robin

[myndless88]

Not sure if Kagami feels the same way about how they met.

[thelampisaflashlight]

Aeon, leaning over the couch: "Swiss, I need your help." Swiss, looking over: "Dead body? Math problem? Lifting a heavy object...?" Aeon, patting his shoulder: "I appreciate you leading with dead body, because this is a very dangerous mission; I'm looking to woo an older woman." Swiss: "Oooh~? Details." Aeon, counting on his fingers: "Smart, sassy, sexy as Hell, and newly single after a long term relationship." Swiss: "And you wanna be the young buck who gets all up in her... doe? Sorry, didn't have one locked in the chamber." -claps hands together- "Okay, how much older is this woman?" Aeon, thinking: "Hold on just a sec..." -walks over to the hallway- "HEY, DEW? HOW OLD ARE YOU??" Dew, muffled by a door and distance: "In human years or ghoul years??" Swiss, gasping: "You're trying to fuck Dew?!" Aeon, embarrassed: "SHHHH!" Dew, not listening: "I stopped counting to be honest-"

[eyeballs-in-my-head]

I don't know if anyone noticed or if anyone has ever posted about this but

The copter in Sonic 2 has SA-2 written on it :D

I just think it's a nice detail