hoardingwordslikeawhore

[hoardingwordslikeawhore]

Your Thundercracker snippets are giving me life! Looking forward for a possible continuation of the story ♡

Better Open The Door Pt 6

IDW Thundercracker x Reader

• Walking back to his quarters, he keeps thinking about his interaction with Star. Hating that he’d hurt Starscream, but his brother had shocked him, too. Had mass displaced to interface with a human, that possibility now twisting through him. That humans and Cybertronians are not only compatible that way, but that Star cares that much. That he’s changing for the better. Running a hand over his helm, he vents softly as he lets himself into his quarters and there you are, looking up from rearranging the things he’s given you. “Hi,” you say, straightening and wrapping your arms around yourself. Making an effort for him when you smile weakly. Knows you’re still unhappy with him for taking you, that you don’t understand what’s coming, what he can’t say. That he’s protecting you from the war on the horizon, because he doesn’t want to lose you. “You were gone a while this time.”

• “Miss me?” He asks, his tone almost teasing despite the serious slant of his mouth that he almost immediately hides with a smile. Eyes narrowing suspiciously, you waggle a hand in the air in a maybe gesture. “I missed you,” he protests, reaching out a servo to slide along the inside of your arm and lift your hand and you play along, pressing your palm to the tip of his servo because it pleases him. It hasn’t taken long to figure out the rules to dealing with him. Don’t bring up wanting to go home being the biggest one, because it puts him in a depressed funk that actually manages to make you feel bad.

• “I missed how warm you are,” you say, nose scrunching at him. “It’s freezing in here.” Huffing a soft laugh, he curls his servos around you and carries you to his berth to lounge with you against his chassis. Feeling you relax into him with a grateful sigh. “I swear you keep it an icebox in here just so you can be grabby.” Running his servos along your spine, he grimaces. Because he could raise the temperature, but then you wouldn’t have a reason to tolerate his touch. He likes the warmth of you against him, the faint feel of your heart beating against him, a constant reassurance that he’s not alone.

• Hating that you need his warmth, but savoring it all the same as it spills through you to ease your tension, you lay your cheek against him. Feeling that low thrum that he’d explained was his spark humming under you. Wishing, too, you didn’t enjoy the slow slide of a servo from the back of your neck down your spine. Or the sound of his laughter rumbling through you. “Grabby?”

• Blowing out a breath, you hide your face in your palms. “Yes, grabby. Like I’m your personal teddy bear,” you mutter and he lets his head fall back. Is that what you think you are to him? A toy to cling to only to comfort himself? You really think you mean so little to him? Again, he thinks about Starscream and his human, about having things he didn’t even know he could have. Your warmth and companionship are what he’d kept coming back for, but now that he knows he can have everything? Venting softly, he drapes his servos over you. He won’t push for more, not while you don’t understand what you mean to him. Not until he can show you that you rescued him at his lowest, his loneliest. You’d kept reaching out, smiling for him, getting excited to share your movies with him even though it was just you he’d kept coming back for. Someone to talk to, someone who has the time for him, that doesn’t treat him like a burden because he’s lonely. How can you not see that you’re the most precious thing he has?

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[hoardingwordslikeawhore]

Something something whirl being a one eyed one horned flying blurple (blue purple) people eater

Delirium

IDW Whirl x Reader

• Leaning his arms on the bar, he flexes his pincers, clicking the ends as he halfway listens to Swerve and Skids. Boring, everything’s boring. Looking for his own human was boring, this conversation is so boring he wants to start something just to make it interesting. Like kicking Skids off his stool. Shifting to follow through, he hears something. Head tipping at a furtive movement in the shadows, he lunges. “Dibs!”

• Screaming as one of the giant monsters dives at you when you’d been trying to sneak past, you bolt, but not quickly enough. He seizes you in a huge claw, hefting you in the air like he’s showing you off to the others. And your scream cuts off, because you can’t breathe, that tight grip squeezing about your middle. “That’s not the human,” the smaller of the three says, leaning against the bar as you frantically try to squirm loose. “Where’d that one come from?”

• Tilting you to examine, he reaches to poke you on the nose with his other pincer as your face reddens and ignores Swerve’s question. “Oh, bestie, we’re going to have fun. How do you feel about arson?” You make a funny rasping sound, fists thumping against him.

• “I don’t think they’re supposed to be that color,” the blue one murmurs, trying to take a closer look and your captor pulls you away as you frantically claw at that pincher trying to squeeze you in half. Your captor tips his angular head, single glowing optic narrowing before his grip eases enough for you to suck in a breath, slumping in his grip. This can’t be real, it’s a nightmare with horribly realistic pain to spice it up. “Maybe I should take it? So it survives?”

• “What part of dibs didn’t you understand?” Whirl growls, shifting his grip to one of your arms, watching you frantically try to cling to him in terror as you dangle. Right before you start screaming profanity at him. And oh, you aren’t going to be boring at all. “Screamy is mine.”

• He’s pulling your arm out of the socket, before he finally shifts you onto the bar top, snagging you again as soon as you bolt. Laughing at you when you scream at him in a mix of fear and anger. Using those giant claws to corral you as you give up and glare up at him, exhausted, before he leans closer. Invading your space as your heart races, that big, stupid glowing optic staring at you and his narrow head almost touching you. Is this how you die? Toyed with like a mouse by the world’s ugliest alien cat? Screw that, if he’s going to kill you, you’re going to make it worth it. Screaming in his face, you rear back and punch him in the optic.

[hoardingwordslikeawhore]

Ok, this is embarassing. But...

New chapter of my fancomic now fic is up at AO3!

It's here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52795483/chapters/133534615

Came back from the grave to continue it.

[hoardingwordslikeawhore]

pocky day (i cant believe its been a year since the last pocky day

[hoardingwordslikeawhore]

You!! Youve infected me with him!!>:( thank you! Very much actually!!!>>:) anyway, ratchet is sexy solidarity🤝💌

Hehehe I tend to have that effect apparently, you're very welcome. There's no cure btw! you're infected forever

god just look at him, im gnawing at the walls

i genuinely cannot help myself i am a lost cause i need to FUCK HIM

[hoardingwordslikeawhore]

See hi-res version here: patreon.com/posts/115060860

"I tried to gain favor from you but nothing was ever good enough. No matter how many battles I fought, you always found fault." - Starscream [Armada]

Another scene inspired by Deadpool & Wolverine ;D These were extra sketches I had also done for the Starscream & Optimus (Not) Prime AU, but didn't have the energy to complete at the time. [ check it here: tomorobo-illust.tumblr.com/post/765318799896576000/whats-left-to-say-these-prayers-aint-working ]

[hoardingwordslikeawhore]

did it mean anything to you

[hoardingwordslikeawhore]

B-127

[hoardingwordslikeawhore]

this is so stupid i’m sorry

[hoardingwordslikeawhore]

- - this bro struck me with his beauty 💟

[hoardingwordslikeawhore]

Just wanted to say I love the way you write Wheeljack! He is my favorite and I don’t think he gets enough love ♥️

Circuits and Wires Pt 5

IDW Wheeljack x Reader

• Part of him still has trouble really believing that you’d rather stay with him than a safer bot. One that might have more time for you, but he’s glad for it. He’ll take as much of your time as you’re willing to give him. Knows he’s distracted a lot, that he forgets things, but you give him something to focus him and he does try. He’s used to working through his recharge period or forgetting to refuel a few times, but he’s also very aware of you, your needs reminding him of his own.

• “Break time, big guy,” you yawn, laying a hand on his arm, when you really just want to sprawl on him while he works and take a nap. Your head is pounding and you feel oddly exhausted. His schedule isn’t exactly human friendly. “I’m dead on my feet, so I know you must be.” His head turns, vocal indicator panels flickering a sickly yellow as he stares at you. “Not literally,” you add before he can try to grab you and run you to Ratchet. You’d figure out the hard way already that some sayings and idioms go right over his head.

• “Sorry, got a bit caught up,” he murmurs, freezing when you lean your upper body on his arm, your cheek resting on your own outstretched arm, feeling your warmth against him. How long has it been since he took a break? Since you ate anything? It had been a surprise to find out humans are supposed to eat throughout the day normally when you’d only been eating once a day to accommodate his schedule and hadn’t said a word of complaint. He’d only figure it out because he’d overheard Bee and Bluestreak talking about their humans. Vocal indicators flickering guiltily, he gently picks you up in his other hand, venting when you just lay your cheek on his servos. “Are you okay?”

• Squinting up at him, you pat his servos. “Just tired.” The headache had been sliding toward a vague queasiness for a while now and you know it’s from going all day without eating, but you didn’t want him to have to stop because of you or to worry him. There’s a vague concern that if you bug him too much he might bring up giving you away again. You know it’s silly to be afraid of that, but you can’t help it. You’re not even really hungry anymore, anyway. Sleeping sounding like a better plan, you’re just so tired and he’s warm.

• By the time he reaches the rec room, you’re asleep in his hand, one of your arms curled around his servos, clinging to him. There’s a box on the back counter of human food that he raids as he cradles you to his chassis and grabs an energon cube for himself. Finding a table to set the cube and your strange food on, he runs a servo between your shoulder blades, rubbing. “Come on. You need to eat for me.” Making an adorably sleepy sound that hums warmly through his spark, you peer up at him as he holds you to his chassis. “We’ll rest after,” he promises as you finally straighten a bit, though your head and shoulders are still drooping. Carefully picking up your food and nudging it at you until you take it, he’s aware of the curious looks he’s getting from the other Autobots at the way he’s holding you against him as you eat, but he couldn’t care less. Let them whisper about him, it’s not like he isn’t used to it anyway. He’s always been the outsider, the one they whisper and gossip about, laughingly calling him a mad scientist behind his back. They all scoff at him, but not you. And you’re all that matters and he strokes your back with a servo as you eat, before reaching for his own energon.

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[hoardingwordslikeawhore]

[hoardingwordslikeawhore]

thank you again for all these wonderful stories 🙏 I was wondering if you'd ever consider writing something for Rumble? I have a big soft spot for the guy and I feel like he'd love finally being bigger than someone

Sure

Alcohol Eyes

IDW Rumble x Reader

• Frag, where’s Frenzy? And why had he let his twin talk him into this stupidity? A soft body brushes against him swaying with the thump of the heavy bass pulsing through the club, the flashing neon lights dazzling his optics. Around him costumed humans laugh and dance, bodies brushing against him, because to them he’s just another organic in a costume. He belongs and it’s such an odd feeling. Especially when little fingers catch his servos and turning he finds a human grinning up at him, a pair of crooked costume wings drooping on your back, one wing partially crushed.

• “Wow, you’re tall,” you laugh, clinging to the stranger’s hand. Somewhere behind you, there’s the sound of your ex calling your name and you tug at your new, big friend slipping between him and the guy hunting for you. As buzzy as you are, your ex is wasted and you have no intention of letting him get his rough hands on you ever again. You have enough scars for a lifetime. No, you’d rather take your chances with a complete stranger in a weirdly elaborate costume. “You went all out, huh?” Reaching up to slide your palm over what feels like metal panels. Wasn’t all that heavy and hot? The guy must be sweating in all that.

• Freezing, his lips part as the little human runs soft hands over him, head craning to smile up at him. And it’s so strange to have to look down at someone. Your expression becomes pinched as someone yells, then you’re reaching up and those unbelievably soft hands are cupping his helm to tug his head down. And a warm mouth suddenly presses against his, electric through him.

• That jerk is right there, bound to see you any moment so you pull the guy down to you and kiss him, praying your ex passes by. That this guy plays along. Not expecting for him to curl an arm around you to cup the back of your head or for the other big hand to grip your butt and drag you flush up against him. And those hands are warm as his mouth moves against yours, taking over the kiss and making it something demanding and hungry and deliciously unexpected.

• Primus, help him as you mold yourself to him, little hands clinging as your mouth opens to let him in, let him taste as his glossa explores, sliding against your tongue. His servos tangle in your hair, his other hand tightening on you to keep you from trying to escape, because whatever this is, he wants it to last. Growling when you break free, eyes hooded. “Slow down, sport,” your voice is lower, huskier as you nip at his bottom lip with a laugh, that sound going straight through him in a flush of need.

• “Don’t go,” he growls, big hands flexing against you as his already rough voice deepens. It’s not a request so much as a heated demand. And oh, it’s tempting. No one’s ever kissed you like that before, hungry and almost desperate. Reaching up, you curl your arms around his neck and his own arms tighten possessively around you. You’d come to the club alone, but if you have your way, your unwitting hero is coming home with you for a real thank you.

[hoardingwordslikeawhore]

I'm going batshit fucking wild over this chapter soundwave my beloved😭💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜hes just so! In all ways! All forms! He!

the tension in everything is alright is absolutely sickening its awesome

Everything is Alright Pt 53

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader

• Shredding through clouds, Starscream’s not even sure where he’s going, only trying to outrun that knowledge he didn’t want. The knowledge that the peace he’d finally found isn’t going to last. Below, he spots the ruin of your home and he falters. He’d done that, destroying it so thoroughly there’d be nothing left for you to go to, so you’d stay with him by taking away any other option, because he’d needed you with him. Couldn’t stand being alone anymore after the warmth of you.

• And that’s not changed. Even knowing he can’t keep you, that he’s going to lose you, he can’t let go. Knows it’s not fair or right, but he needs you there waiting for him. Smiling in greeting to spread warmth through his spark. You’re waiting right now, aren’t you? Probably wondering where he is. Worrying over him like you do and he’s turning. Heading home to you. Needing to see you, touch you. Hold you in his arms, because right now you’re there waiting for him. You’re still there.

• Warmth spreads through you with the slide of his mouth against yours, his need spilling through you to feed your own. Hearing Soundwave’s soft, barely audible growl before he’s shifting to lay you back, his big frame following you down and his mouth is back on yours, glossa stealing inside. Claiming as a big hand slides over your hip, finding the button on your jeans and fumbling to undo it with his big servos. And that breaks the hunger twisting through you. “I can’t,” you whisper, breaking free of his kiss.

• He feels it the moment your mind turns to Starscream, remembering what it had felt like in his arms. And his spark hurts as you try to pull up walls between you, wanting this, but unable to betray Starscream. Denying him. Brushing his mouth against the softness of yours, he presses his face against your throat when you turn your head away. Your soft hands are still clinging to him and he knows you want this, want him, that he could push and you’d give in to him. And maybe resent him for it later. “I can’t do that to him,” you whisper against him and it’s the way your voice breaks that makes him cup the back of your head, curl himself around you. Holding you together while you break. He can wait for you to reach for him, when it’s not colored with your human inhibitions and doubts. You’re worth waiting for.

• “Shh, little one,” he growls against you and you hear his mask click back into place, hiding his face away as he gently cups yours in his warm servos, lifting your head so you have to meet his visor hidden optics. “All is well.” No, it’s not. Because you hadn’t wanted him to stop, you’d wanted everything. It’s the memory of that raw vulnerability that had been on Starscream’s face after that had frozen you. Unable to go through with chasing what you need if it would hurt him.

• Inclining his head to press his helm to your forehead, his hands linger on you, feeling your turmoil. Your desire and guilt all twisted together as he runs the tips of his servos along your cheek. Hates entrusting you to Starscream, but knows he’ll have to. The Seeker might claim your body, but he’s after your mind, your heart. All of you. “I’m sorry,” you say, trying to look away as he gathers you to him, soaking in your warmth, your chaotic emotions, so alive in him. Knows you won’t believe him if he tells you that there’s nothing to be sorry for. You gave him something, a sense of connection and belonging. He can wait for the rest and watch over you until then.

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[hoardingwordslikeawhore]

you producing first so quickly has me inspired to start writing again

That’s awesome! Writing is an escape for me. It can feel like work sometimes, but these are just for fun and I missed writing things that didn’t need to be perfect or meticulously planned out

My Favorite Accident Pt 3

TFP Knockout x Reader

• Slowly following at a distance, he can’t understand why you wouldn’t just let him permanently take care of the problem, namely that other human who’d dared lay hands on you. And because that man’s still alive, he’s had to tail you to make sure you get home safely. While he doubts the man will go anywhere near you after a run in with him, it still bothers him. That uncertainty that something might happen to you if he’s not there as he keeps remembering the fear in your eyes. Realizing that you’re not as tough as you act. No one gets to frighten you like that, except maybe him.

• Pulling into the apartment complex, you press your head back against the headrest. Your nerves finally catching up to you during the drive, leaving your hands faintly trembling at what might have happened. At what likely would have happened if not for Knockout. And maybe he’s right and you should have let him take care of Ricky, but siccing your big, alien racing buddy on that idiot didn’t exactly sit well with you. And there’s that baffling, snarling protectiveness of Knockout’s to figure out, too. He’d been furious, more than ready to stomp the guy just for touching you. Like having your own giant, psychotically violent bodyguard.

• This is where you live? Headlights dimmed, his engine snarls. While he doesn’t claim to know much about human dwellings, this building looks like it’s seen better days. Actually, it looks like burning it down would be doing you a favor. Especially when he sees the other residents lingering outside watching you. Absolutely not. Shifting on his tires, he watches you park and get out, lifting a hand in greeting to the group hanging out. But also reaching back to where you keep that pitiful little knife. That unconscious gesture rubbing him the wrong way and driving home that this place isn’t safe for you and you know it.

• A few more race wins and you’ll have enough for a down payment on a better apartment. Letting yourself inside, there’s time to shower and change, then you’re falling into bed. Too aware that your little extra rendezvous with Knockout have cut your sleep time to five hours, then it’s up for your day job. Every penny you can get going toward getting out of here. Because what would that be like? To not be scared all the time, shuddering as the guys hanging out in the front start yelling at each other and you pull a pillow over your head. Eventually someone calls the cops on them as another unit gets off third shift and cranks rock and roll to rattle your windows.

• He knows he’s been gone too long from the Nemesis, that he’s going to be missed, but hates leaving you here in this pit forsaken cesspool you apparently call home. It bothers him enough he stays the night, watching the drama unfolding right outside your door and getting angrier and angrier, because this is unacceptable. And he’s going to have to do something about it.

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[hoardingwordslikeawhore]

I just wanted to say, thank you for showing me where to get the little models, I've been having so much fun putting these guys together the past two days

Sorry for the quality of the photo

Shockwaves! I found the Blokees models purely by accident, but I love how tiny and posable they are. I ended up moving my Flame Toys Megs to my plant shelf just to make more room for these guys

Gravity Pt 6

IDW Optimus x Reader

• “Why Earth?” Turning away from his work at the soft question, he finds you sitting cross legged nearby watching him with a little frown. Yours been quiet so long, he’s assumed you were resting. At his questioning look, you roll your hand in a vague little gesture. “Why did you all come here? Why Earth?”

• Servos flexing slightly, he leans his forearms against the desk. Almost looming over you, but you don’t lean away. Just arching your eyebrows at him, because it’s been bothering you for a while now. Surely there were other worlds closer to his world, to Cybertron. So why here? “In the archives, there were ancient records of worlds the Primes had visited during the expansion before the war with the Quintessons. Of worlds that had been seeded with energon or interacted with,” he says. The words bringing up more questions than answers. Quintessons? Other Primes? Only energon rings a bell, because that’s the stuff he lives on, but seeded?

• Your expression twists and he knows he should explain it all. That he owes it to you after trapping you with him, but the past has only ever wounded him. Dredging it up always brings up the choices and mistakes he’d made. The things he can’t undo, but wishes he could because something small might have led them all down a different path, a brighter one if he’d only been better, stronger.

• “You came here for the energon,” you hazard. He’s volunteered so little of his past, only letting things slip occasionally. Like that his Autobots are at war, that they’d had to flee their world and that their enemies had followed. The details, though? Like why they’d left Cybertron or even what the war was over? Those things he doesn’t seem ready to talk about so you haven’t pushed.

• “We had no way of knowing about your species. You didn’t exist when this world was seeded as a potential colony.” Reaching out, he crooks a servo not really expecting for you to lay a hand on him and let him gently pull you to your feet. “I wouldn’t have led the Decepticons here if I’d known.” And that’s his guilt to carry from now on. Another failure that might cost so much, another sin weighing on his spark, because this world might not survive their war. You might not.

• “You guys were starving, right?” You ask, hand lingering on his servo as he inclines his head. “You were trying to save who you could, I get that.” It’s not fair or right, but you do understand. From what you can gather from the things he doesn’t want to say, things were pretty desperate. He was desperate. And to be responsible for the survival of your people, what would you have done in his place? You’re pretty sure you wouldn’t be nearly as honorable as he is, that you’d do anything regardless of the cost, because you’re not good like he is.

• Spark warming at your soft words, it’s that you understand that makes him curl his servo about you. How can you not blame him for bringing his war to your home? Not hate him or at least resent him? Your little palm slides against his servo like you’re trying to comfort him, worrying over him. It’s a weight from him that you don’t despise him even though he knows that this and what will follow will be his fault. For now he just wants to feel your hand on him and pretend that this one time, his decisions won’t cost him what little he has right now in this moment. Won’t cost you, because you give him something to look forward to every day. Something beyond duty or responsibility, just enjoying your company, the sound of your voice. The soft touch of a hand reaching out to him to break his loneliness.

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[hoardingwordslikeawhore]

I love your writing and I love that you’re having fun with it even more! It baffles me how good you are with coming up with different dynamics for each of your storylines and they all work so well. My favorite has to be tfp megs. Maybe it’s a guilty pleasure but something about the fake hating or the taboo codependency really scratches a specific itch on my brain.

I know it’s a very satisfying dynamic to write. This one is a bit earlier than I’d planned, but I wanted to get it down while it was in my head.

And you guys crack me up sometimes. I’ve seen one of y’all call Optimus ‘Pee Paw’ in reblog tags and now TFP Megs is ‘Space Crack Grandpa.’

Broken Arrow Pt 9

TFP Megatron x Reader

• You’re frozen against him, body arching into his where his denta are gripping you. He’s shocked you so badly you don’t know how to respond apparently. There’s a faint unease at your stillness, that maybe he finally pushed a bit too hard. It’s only when he bites just a tiny bit harder that you snap out of it and smack a palm against the side of his helm. “Get off, you jerk. Who bites someone?” And there’s the anger he enjoys so much. Laughing again as you try to shove his head away and he lets you, aware of your soft, warm hands gripping his helm, your face red and furious.

• And he’s laughing again, so messed up he finds your frustration hilarious as you keep your grip on his helm to keep him from trying to bite you again. That bare prick of his denta on you had broken through the shock of the not entirely unpleasant feel of that bite. “You shouldn’t do that crap,” you mutter, trying to maintain that frustrated anger, but worry creeping in to your tone. “At this rate, the Autobots won’t have to do anything. You’re so messed up, you’ll probably fall out of the ship and do it for them.”

• Those hands are unbelievably soft on him, fingers gripping his helm to try and keep his face out of biting range as you scowl up at him. “Don’t tell me you’re worried about me,” he asks, grinning as he catches one of your wrists and feels you immediately try to tug loose as he considers nipping those little fingers. Wanting to just because he can, just to feel you shudder against him again.

• Trying to get your hand back, you plant the other one in the center of his chest. “Don’t flatter yourself,”you mutter. “I’d shove you myself if I could.” He’s not letting go, but there’s a new, calculating gleam in his optics that makes your skin prickle all over. Because on that stuff? There’s no telling where his processor just went or what he might do. Like rasp the claws of his other hand down his chest, those armor panels shifting to reveal something pulsing with light, something alive that pulls at you and you realize it’s his bare spark. ‘That’s how you end a Cybertronian,’ his words come back to you and you suddenly want loose. Want him to close those panels up, because seeing this is uncomfortably intimate. “Cut it out.”

• “Don’t tell me you’ve had a change of heart, pet?” Servos tightening on your wrist to force your hand closer to his spark, you suck in a sharp breath and try to lean away, eyes widening in alarm. “Don’t you still want to end me?” Knows he should stop, let go. Because you’re not playing along, there’s something very much like real panic in your eyes as you struggle against him, then shudder violently when his spark reacts. Reaching out a tendril of energy to meet your shaking fingers and now he’s frozen.

• Warmth spins through you at that contact, you can feel him as those tendrils of spark energy curl about your fingers. And you’re not fighting to get away anymore, you’re surrendering to that feeling of falling into him like plunging into deep, still waters that are churning violently just under the surface. Fractured sensations and memories spin you about, too chaotic and alive for you make any sense of. Just knowing that this is him, all of him. Drowning in him, feeling your heart struggling, missing beats. Hurting.

• That contact runs electric through him until he’s jerking you closer to strengthen it without even thinking. He’d only meant to make you angry, to provoke you, but as awareness washes over him in a warm fall like summer rain, he’s suddenly painfully sober. You’re only a human, but he can sense something there that’s not a spark, but close. Something even more achingly fragile than you are as your head falls forward against his shoulder and he can’t move even though he needs to break that contact, shove you away to save himself. You’re just a sparkless organic. And what he feels isn’t a spark, but something that might as well be one entangling with him, slipping soft as a sigh through him as his servos tighten against you. Realizing just how bad a mistake he’d just made.

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