#Frenzy x reader

[pinkanonwrites]

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

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

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

[weenwrites]

Hey there!

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

Thanks!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[ikkosu]

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

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

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

SOUNDWAVE. FEM.BOT.SQUID. S/O

|[part one ]|

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

“Why's she lookin' at me weird."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ugh. Just look at the tails!"

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

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

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

“What’s it then, her brain?”

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

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

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

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

"Rumble, Frenzy : mind your manners."

"Oh, slag. Right. Sorry about that.”

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

“Your field.” He warns.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Squid.” Frenzy says blandly.

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

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

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

“But—" Rumble begins.

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

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

[rowiewritesstuff]

Hullo could I get an Earthspark or MTMTE matchup? I use they/them pronouns. I’m an art history major and archivists, my Myers Briggs is INTJ. I’m short with black curly hair, thick glasses and an average build, I also dress fairly goth. Lots of black jeans, spikes and comfortable boots. I’m a fairly reserved person and prefer listening in conversations and my love language is gifts, mostly things I make like drawings or knittings and food. I like horror movies, hiking and museums and someone who can make me laugh. Thank you!

I match you with: Frenzy!

Frenzy is a LOUD bot who loves to talk. She goes well with your personality- after all, opposites attract. She loved telling you jokes to watch a grin creep onto your face. Whenever you are sad or angry, that’s how she’d cheer you up. 

You both have a similar style, too. She had a goth/rock look to her, and she sometimes managed to put one of your shirts over her head to see what they’d look like on her. She normally ripped them, though.

Frenzy loves to play music for you to listen to, even if you don’t always like it. She often writes songs for you.

She in turn loves to look at your art. Whenever you get into a creative block, she’s the one who will help inspire you to make something.

Frenzy is a huge fan of horror movies, and it suits you both a lot. She’ll hold you close as you watch together. Whenever a jumpscare pops onto the screen she squeezes you tighter and laughs loudly.

She loves to take you on hikes too. She always asks you what flower is which, and why different trees have different colored leaves. Sometimes when you’d get tired from walking too far she’d carry you on her back. She would always say “Only the best for my little artist!” 

Sometimes you’d gift her little scarves you put together, or a nice painting of her and you. She’d give you your favorite foods and museum tickets.

You were terrified to meet her family. You’d already met Laserbeak- who became your best friend.

Soundwave approved of you, which was unusual. He normally hated humans, but you seemed to make his mini cons happy. You got along with the quieter decepticon pretty well, often going over to their base to hang out with them.

When Soundwave was captured you were there to comfort her. You went with Laserbeak and Frenzy when they went to Philly, and got a job as a counselor. 

You were there with them the night the fight with Mandroid took place, and got injured saving her life.

“Laserbeak! We have to get them out of here!” 

They dragged you out together and took you home. They weren’t human, so they had no clue what to do. They never even really considered you may need a human doctor- so they begrudgingly called Megatron who rushed over with their human friend Dorothy.

Dorothy looked over your unconscious form. “They should be okay, but they need to rest. Maybe even a hospital.” You whimpered in pain while still unconscious as Dorothy brushed over a cut on your arm.

“Don’t touch them!” Frenzy pulled you gently into her arms. 

They ended up taking you to a hospital with the help of Dorothy, and you were released two days later. 

Frenzy would always be there for you, and she hoped the same of you.

[peachsukii]

A rage room is the last place Bakugo ever thought he’d end up with you.

When you bring up the idea to him after seeing one online, he scoffs at the thought of it. Working out and training is more than enough for him to let off metaphorical steam, and he’s been seeing a therapist since senior year of UA. He doesn’t need to smash shit to feel something.

At least, that’s what he thought.

Bakugo agrees to go with you, begrudgingly at first, but ultimately to keep you company, he doesn’t want you to hurt yourself or be alone. There were only two rules: No quirk usage and no harming others in the room, everything else is fair game. You both sign the waivers and gear up to head inside. The room is overwhelming at first, full to the brim of freshly smash-able objects - a broken down car with the doors barely on their hinges, light bulbs, glass jars of all sizes, old stop lights, and other breakable trinkets.

“Start smashin’, sweets. It ain’t gonna break itself,” Bakugo jokes, patting you on the back to let you take the first swing. You pick up the bat the facility has supplied and turn to face him, setting it on your shoulder like a sword.

“You’re not gonna try it?”

He’s here and suited up, might as well let loose. What’s the worst that could happen?

Bakugo swings the bat a few times around the room, adrenaline trickling through his veins as glass continuously shatters around him. Suddenly, he’s lost in thought and caught in a slow emotional build up, like an ocean’s tide retreating before the giant swell of waves begin to crash against the shore. Memories begin flooding to the forefront of his mind, things he’d worked through in therapy - anger, frustration, fear, guilt, coursing through him. Bakugo doesn’t notice when you lower your bat, watching him curiously as he starts swinging harder, viciously picking up the pace and breathing heavily with each passing hit.

“Kats, you alright?” You call - he doesn’t hear you in his tunnel visioned state. In between swings, you can see the bat quaking in his grip as if it’s too heavy to hold.

“Katsuki!” you try again with no response. Bakugo sounds like he’s about to have a panic attack with the way his breath is labored. You toss your bat to the floor and rush over to him, gently grabbing at his shoulder to get his attention. He flinches at your touch, shaken up by his sudden visceral reaction with a tinge of embarrassment, hiding his face from you by tucking it against his opposite shoulder.

“Breathe, babe,” you sooth, rubbing calming circles in between his shoulder blades. “Do you need a minute?”

“I—” Bakugo stutters, his throat strained by his effort to hold in the onslaught of tears threatening to spill over his cheeks. He clears his throat and bites his lip in a desperate attempt to stop his emotions from overflowing, but he loses the battle.

“We can stop if—”

He snatches your breath away when Bakugo swings around and pulls you into his chest, burrowing his face in the crook of your neck awkwardly. The protective goggles are becoming foggy and wet with discarded tears, a hiccup strangled in his throat. One of your hands slides tenderly against his nape, fingers entangled with the soft blonde strands while the other lays against his back.

"It's okay, I've got you. It's just you and me here."

Turns out smashing shit gave him an outlet he didn’t know he needed. His therapist has preached to him about bodies holding onto stress and trauma throughout our lives - Bakugo thought it was utter bullshit.

He was proven dreadfully wrong. But one things for sure, he’s sincerely grateful you knew him better than himself, how badly he needed this release without verbalizing it.

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Kindred Spirits Pt. 2 | Azriel x Rhys’daughter!Reader

Summary: After getting approval from your father, you and Azriel get to enjoy your mating bond in the privacy of the cabin in Illyria, eagerly experimenting with each other.

Word Count: ~3.7k

Warnings: SMUT, p in v penetration, oral (both ways), wingplay, sub Az, bath together, nudity, cutesy cuddles

Minors, do not interact!

A/N: Since this was so highly requested here it is, got a buncha inspiration from requests, hope you enjoy<3

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Requests are open!

A low groan slipped from your lips as you shifted beneath him in the bed. For the past hours, he’d been pounding into you, filling you over and over until both of your bodies were aching and sore.

He had been panting against your skin, harsh breaths slowly calming into the smooth, deep rhythm you were accustomed to.

Even now, you still wanted more, needed more, despite your body’s aching protests.

“We need to get some food, Az.”

You murmured against the warm planes of his chest, the urge to lick and bite gnawing at you, only to shove it down. He sighed, slowly easing out of you and sitting on the edge of the bed. You couldn’t help but miss the feeling of being filled by him almost immediately.

He turned to you, helping you sit up, his large, scarred hands supporting your back, one wrapping around your waist.

“Are you alright?”

His gentle tone had asked, hazel eyes gleaming with concern as his gaze ran over your body, hungry as ever, but noticing each little bruise on your hips from him holding you, or the bites and hickeys left on your neck.

Your mind immediately started wandering as you saw his bare body, eyes running over his muscular and lean form. He looked like he’d been sculpted by a god, scars marring some of his skin, running the length of his midnight wings that when the light hit them just right, purple would show through them, as well as the veins.

Not to mention the shadows, always swirling around him, now thick in the room and still leaving lingering whispers of touch on your skin, or his eyes…

Focus.

You snapped out of your imagination, glancing up to meet his eyes, still concerned, but with a knowing, and amused, glint to them. He knew that you were absolutely enthralled with him, and he wouldn’t expect any less from his mate, an adult but still a teenage female with all sorts of hormones flooding your system because of the bond.

“I..I’m fine, just a little sore.”

He let out a hum at that, his gaze going down to your legs, still just barely trembling from your last climax. In a smooth motion, he scooped you up into his arms and began walking into the kitchen.

“I said I’m sore, not disabled!”

You said, giving him an amused but exasperated look. He returned it with a level gaze, a smile on his lips.

“I wouldn’t want you wasting any energy. You’ll need it for tonight.”

His sinfully charming voice spoke quietly, bringing a flush to your cheeks and making you shut your mouth for a good while, that familiar heat and slick that seemed ever-present these days building yet again in your body.

He sat you gently onto one of the chairs, the wood cold against your bare ass. You watched as he walked over to the stove, not bothering to throw any clothing on, and began making some food.

The smell of breakfast filled the kitchen as he scrambled eggs, and fried bacon, and threw a few pieces of bread into the toaster. Your gaze quickly wandered to the curve of his ass, how it sloped down into his muscular thighs, and hanging down between them…

“Here,”

He spoke quietly, still startling you out of your thoughts, which seemed to be a common occurrence these days. He lifted you up, sitting in the chair before setting you down on his lap. Your eyes glazed over with lust and you whined, shifting to grind down against him, you felt his cock twitch, and his body tense, but he only shook his head, picking up your fork with one hand and offering you a bite of scrambled eggs, his other hand holding your hips still.

“Patience, love. You can have me again after breakfast.”

That statement sent a bit of embarrassment through your veins. You could barely even control your own body and thoughts, all consumed by him, and were so terribly impatient. You huffed, not feeling much like his equal in this moment as you leaned against his chest, taking the eggs into your mouth, chewing and swallowing, before giving him a bite of eggs from his plate.

“I know, but I can’t help it. Not with the bond and..everything.”

He slowly chewed his food, looking down at you thoughtfully, your embarrassment probably palpable through the bond, which only further increased it.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

He reassured you after swallowing. You sighed, fork dropping from your hand with a clatter onto his plate.

“But it feels like it is. You always turn me into an absolute puddle and take care of me, and I feel like I can’t do anything for you.”

His eyes softened at your admission as he shifted your body up in his lap, so you were eye to eye with him.

“You’re already doing everything for me, being my mate, letting me have you and provide for you.”

You opened your mouth to speak again, only for a piece of bacon to be pushed inside, effectively shutting you up as you glared at him. He thought a moment, before hesitantly speaking.

“We could take a bath after this, and I could show you how to turn me into a…’puddle’?”

He offered, at which you nodded, still chewing the surprisingly good bacon. Learning how to turn the shadowsinger into an absolute mess sounded wonderful and also impossible at the same time. He was always so calm and collected that you couldn’t picture him as a mess like you always were.

*********************************************************

Azriel knew he was in trouble the moment he stepped into the warm bath, wings spreading behind him as you eagerly joined him, chest to chest as the two of you began washing each other’s bodies off, barely able to resist the hazy scent of arousal rising between you two in the air.

You were always so eager.

He found it adorable. How you were willing to do anything and everything for him, to try new things, bend over backward, both literally and figuratively, and test things. He knew you were a virgin, it had been quite obvious by how nervous and antsy you’d been, or just how sensitive and responsive you still were with him.

You whined as he slowly slid you down on his cock, throbbing again already even after the entire night’s worth of activities.

He knew the mating bond would cause a frenzy, he’d heard Feyre and Rhys talk about theirs, not to mention Nesta and Cassian who he sometimes thought were still in the midst of it when he heard their feral fucking through the walls of the House of Wind at night, or day, or any time. He’d once walked in on them in the library of all places.

But he hadn’t known just how urgent it would feel, how every muscle in his body and his shadows demanded him to be buried deep inside you, fucking and filling you over and over until he was empty.

His hands went to hold your hips as you began grinding down on him, slowly guiding you and trying to stop himself from bucking up into you.

“You want to know how to make me a mess?”

He asked, your little desperate nod confirming it. Always so eager to please. One of his scarred hands wrapped around your hand, leading it to the base of his wings.

“There. Touch me, starting on the bottom and sides, and slowly get closer and add more pressure to my pulse point in the middle.”

He instructed, his wings already flaring out as you followed his instructions, soft hands with small callouses from the training Cassian gave you roaming the very base of his wings first, on the edges of it.

His breathing grew harsher, more resembling pants, and you could’ve sworn his bottom lip trembled slightly as his eyes rolled up, hips arching into yours.

“Just like that, sweet girl, so — oh, fuck..”

He groaned, hips slowly beginning to roll into yours, making his throbbing cock rub against that heavenly spot he’d already memorized inside of you. Your movements became a bit more desperate and frenzied as your entire hand then went to hold the bottom of the base, cupping and squeezing in a way that made him jerk.

His breathing was shaky, tears pricking his eyes as Azriel, who had the patience of a god and seemingly never-ending will, began whining and begging.

“Please, right there, right - ahhh, good-“

It was so unbelievably hot seeing your stoic shadowsinger crumbling to pieces beneath your hands. As another climax rolled over your sensitive, shaking body, clenching around him, your hands moved to his pulse point, a sensitive vein in the center of the base of his wings, and squeezed, he came with a sound that you could only describe as a mix between and roar and a cry, body going limp and laying against the tub behind him as he painted your insides.

You settled against his chest, pressing kisses all over him, anywhere you could get them as he slowly recovered, eyes unglazing as he slowly blinked and caught his breath. One of his arms was wrapped around you.

Azriel wasn’t sure what must’ve come over you, but as he relaxed, he saw a hint of something in your eyes, before you leaned forward and sunk your teeth right into the sensitive skin of his neck. He’d let out an embarrassingly loud moan at it, his length immediately rising back to attention and hardening inside you.

From the way he looked down at you, eyes dark with hunger, you knew that you were in for a long night.

*********************************************************

And a long night it had been.

He’d spent hours fucking himself into you, tasting you, licking up all you had to offer with that sinful tongue of his.

It was only when you’d agreed to let him stay inside throughout the rest of the night that he’d finally gone to sleep, and you’d slept like a rock, dreamless until waking up in the morning with a dry throat.

His hair was tousled, wings and arm wrapped around you in a protective cocoon, face serene and body relaxed in sleep. It was a sight you hated to interrupt, but you needed water. You shimmied your way out of his grasp, giving him a little kiss on the forehead and mumbling something about being thirsty.

He’d groaned and seemingly went back to laying down, though not as good as when you were there.

You’d trudged off to the kitchen, body sore and aching but wanting more, and gulped down an entire glass of water when you felt a familiar nudge against your mental walls.

‘How’s my girl doing?’

Your father’s voice rang out in your head, familiar and soothing to you. You smiled to yourself while drinking another cup of water.

‘Good.’

‘You’ve been gone two full days and all you have to say is that you’re doing good?’

You snorted into the water you were drinking, a small sly smirk curling on your lips.

‘If you’re so curious,’

You began, before letting him see a quick flash of all the activities you and Azriel had been getting up to. You felt him recoil from your mind almost immediately, clearly scarred from that alone.

It was then that you heard a light, almost imperceptible patter of feet against the wood, and saw Azriel, bare as you, rubbing his eyes with one hand and stroking his cock with the other, stalking quietly towards you.

You must’ve forgotten to put your mental walls back up because you heard your father’s voice chuckling before speaking.

‘Enjoy yourself.’

He spoke simply, before fully withdrawing and your attention went to Azriel, who had a gleam of curiosity in his lust-clouded eyes.

“My dad. He was checking in on me. I’m not sure what he expected.”

You murmured, taking another sip of water as a low growl rumbled from Azriel’s chest, his lip curled up slightly and face contorted in what could only be described as territorial Fae bullshit. He huffed, clearly knowing he was ridiculous but not able to stop it.

“I don’t want any other male talking to you. Not now.”

He said with what could easily be described as a pout, coming to wrap his arms possessively around your waist from behind, wandering up to your breasts, slowly kneading them.

You sighed, leaning back against him.

“He’s my dad. He’s just worried, Az.”

He huffed again.

“I know, I just..”

“Can’t help it?”

“Yes.”

You let out a little bit of laughter at that. That was the same way you felt. Unable to help anything your mind and body wanted, which right now, was him.

His nostrils flared as he easily scented your arousal, he leaned forward, slightly pushing your body against the counter.

“Here?”

You asked, a bit exasperated. His shadows swirled around you both, slowly easing your upper half onto the counter, bending you ever so gently over it.

“I want to..try something.”

He said, voice thick with desire. You were already dripping down your legs, and his cock easily ran through your folds, settling between your legs as you whined for him to just put it in already.

“Pick a safe word.”

He said, all the while slowly easing into you. All the rabid fucking the past two days meant you didn’t even need to be stretched for him anymore, you were more than used to the mind-numbing size of him. Your mind felt blank as you tried to come up with a decent safe word, easy to say and get out. Your gaze went to the fruit bowl on the counter, and you thought of the fruit you’d offered to your mate.

“Apple.”

You said, immediately mentally facepalming at how stupid it was. Azriel only smirked and continued, inch after inch slowly sliding in. Shadows began sliding up your body, teasing your pert nipples before their forms settled on your wrists, pushing them forward, over your head, and in front of you on the counter, binding them down in a firm grip, but also careful not to hurt you as they whispered amongst themselves and to their master.

Any words that had been formed immediately fell to pieces as he began pounding into you only moments after bottoming out, moving like a rabbit in heat, desperate to fuck and fill. It was a dizzying, punishing pace he set, your hands bound above you only adding to it.

Wet squelching noises mixed with your moans and screams of him and his name, the sound of skin slapping against skin resounding as his balls hit the curve of your ass, tightening as he spilled inside of you.

He didn’t stop.

It felt like you were there for hours, bent over that counter, some shadows rubbing your clit, Azriel’s hands groping your breasts and pinching your nipples, your hands bound. You couldn’t count the number of times you fell completely apart around him, or the number of times he came.

“Mine.”

He growled, the sound of his voice so possessive and animalistic sending heat straight into your core.

“Yours, all yours.”

You managed to get out between your screams. It was too much, and he could feel it through the bond, how overwhelmed and overstimulated you were, but unless you said the safe word, he wasn’t stopping.

“T- too much, Az, I can’t-“

“Yes, you can,”

His voice had growled out, pace somehow getting more frenzied and sloppy.

“You can take it, just one more, I know you can.”

You took one more somehow, your body feeling heavy and overwhelmed with heat. You whined, wriggling underneath him. He only glanced down at you, hand now in your dark curls, and spoke.

“One more.”

*********************************************************

His wet mouth came up from between your legs, his tongue darting out to lick his lips and clean off your remaining essence.

Azriel ate pussy like a starved man, licking and sucking everything he could, lapping it all up until you were falling apart around his tongue over and over. He saw your fucked out look and smiled softly, something that made your heart warm, before he slid up next to you on the bed.

He cradled your body against him, pressing wet kisses to your forehead. Your face was scrunched up in what looked like a thoughtful frown as you glanced up at him, a flush creeping up your cheeks. He tilted his head to the side a bit as curiosity took over.

“What is it?”

He asked quietly, clearly wondering if something was wrong or anything. You opened your mouth, closing it again, before just blurting it out.

“Can you teach me how to suck dick?”

You asked, wincing at the sting of embarrassment from you that had probably gone down the bond to him. His eyes widened a bit before he seemed to think. Thinking badly of his silence, you just began stammering.

“I mean, you don’t have to, it’s just you’re always-“

“I’ll teach you.”

His calm voice, holding both desire and affection in it, cut through your sentence as he looked down at you.

He leaned back, adjusting the pillows behind him, and gently spread his legs for you to access. He gestured to between his legs, and you shifted there and settled, eyes on his cock, already hardening again.

“Stroke it first, to get it ready.”

He said, his hand guiding yours to his length, gently wrapping your fingers around it.

“How do I…?”

You asked, trailing off as his hand covered yours, making your hand slowly go back and forth, gently twisting and pulling on the thin, sensitive skin. He guided your thumb to swipe over his slit, then have your hands softly palm the head while he groaned softly.

“Like that, just keep doing that until it’s hard.”

He murmured to you, giving a nod of approval as his hand then drifted off to lay on the bed beside him as he leaned back, and loosely watched you.

It was a learning curve, for sure.

You tried to mimic the motions he’d made on it earlier, and after a few minutes of fumbling, you got a basic rhythm of stroking it up and down, lightly squeezing and stimulating the head. You watched his every reaction, even as precum beaded at the tip, you swiped it away with your thumb.

You followed through with that until it was stiff and firm as a rock, slapping against his stomach when you finally let your hand slip off of it.

“Now what?”

You asked, watching as Azriel then took his cock in one hand and pumped it a few times, before his other hand went to cup your cheek, gently pulling you closer between his legs.

“Give the tip a few licks, maybe a kiss or some light sucking, and hold the base with your hand and stroke it while doing that.”

He instructed you. Your hand went to hold the base of his cock, lightly squeezing and stroking it in the familiar rhythm. You hesitantly put your mouth to his cock, first your tongue only darting out to give little kitten licks against his slit, and a few kisses. After a moment of figuring this out, you then took the red, leaking head into your mouth, tongue swirling around it as you lightly sucked. It was just like sucking a lollipop, you supposed, as you eagerly suckled on it, cheeks hollowing out, except it was a bit salty and smelled musky.

Azriel groaned at that, hips almost bucking up before he stopped them.

“Good girl,”

He purred, one hand sliding into your hair, and ever so gently tugging you further onto it.

“Your tongue — lick the underside of it.”

He managed to gasp out, breathless as you followed his instructions almost perfectly, tongue flattening and rubbing against the underside of his dick. You simply looked up at him with those bright blue eyes, eager for more instructions, eager to please and satisfy him; to satisfy your mate.

His hand on your hair guided you to move your head forward and backward, gently bobbing as you suckled and licked him. Within no time his words turned to strained groans, especially when he guided one of your hands to tenderly squeeze and play with his balls.

His eyes had gone watery by then, and with a sharp cry, he came in your mouth, and not knowing what to do, you lapped it up with your tongue and swallowed.

You slipped your mouth off of him, and his legs remained open as he tried to work through his orgasm. You crawled up next to him in the bed, settling under the warm blankets, and pulling his body close, nuzzling into him and taking in his scent deeply. It was a mixture of pine and rich earth, delicious to your senses in every way.

When he’d finally recovered enough to speak without ever word coming out a whimper, he turned on his side to you and his arms moved on their own, wrapping around you and pulling you tight against him, one of his wings draping over you. It was as if to cover your naked body so that none could see the beauty that was you other than him.

“Did I do it right?”

You asked, whispering the question into his ear. He chuckled, the deep sound vibrating through his chest and your being.

“You did it perfectly.”

He replied, voice tired but satisfied, the mating bond content enough to let the both of you sleep without any further frenzy activities.

With a sigh of satisfaction, he rested his head against the top of yours, breathing in and smelling the shampoo and conditioner, and all of the haircare products you use. The thought made him smile.

“I love you.”

The shadowsinger said softly. He felt you smile against his skin before speaking just as soft and quiet as him.

“I love you, too.”

Tags:

@marvelsmylife

@mischiefmanagers

@lilah-asteria

[random-fandom1984]

Can I have some g1 soundwave x reader please😅😅😅😅😅

Being the only femme Cybertronian on the Ark can be... something. Especially when some of them try hitting on you without getting to know you; quite annoying really, but you keep it pushed down; but some people can tell because of your alt-mode.

You stayed in the Ark because of your job as a medic. Your alt-mode is a heartbeat monitor, which also corresponds with your sparkbeats, which is how some people, very few, can tell what you're feeling.

You made your own little base of operations under an abandoned amusement park. You'd bring in people who were injured and left behind in the ruckus of the battlefield between the two factions. Human or Decepticon.

Whenever it's a human, you'd ask them to promise to not tell your Autobot friends about your place of escape, and they do. But with Decepticons, you make sure that they are knocked out, and you just give them a few amounts of anesthesia because they would break in, destroy the place, kidnap you and hold you for ransom against your friends.

One day, when looking through one of the many aftermaths of a battle, you found a minicon in the rubble, Soundwave's minicon: Frenzy. When you took him back to your base, you realized you've forgotten to stock up on more anesthesia, so now you have to worry with the fact that he might wake up soon as you did the procedure of fix-and-repair.

As you were putting your tools away, he woke up with a fright, and you quickly explained the situation to him, which slightly calmed him down. Key word: Slightly. He was suspicious of you but is slowly diminished as you continued to work on the minor injuries that just need a new paint job and be buffed. The last bit disappeared in an instant when you gave him an Energon Goodie.

When he came by again, to your surprise that he remembered the way here, you gave a tour of the place above, he somehow managed to get the place up and running again; thank Primus that your location was miles away from the nearest civilization.

As time went by, Rumble found out, then Ravage, then Laserbeak. When they come to visit, it would be like as if there was no war, they're having a good time in the amusement park.

Sooner or later, Soundwave got suspicious. Where were his kids minicons going late at night?

Being the best spy he is, he followed them, and was surprised that they were hanging out with an Autobot, weren't fighting like there was a war, stopping a fight between Rumble and Frenzy as calm as possible- and somehow easily get them to make up?! He couldn't do that without them continuing to squabble with each other.

He used his telepathy powers to look into your thoughts to see if you secretly had ill intentions with his sons minicons, but there wasn't any!

When his minicons return back to base, it's an instant interrogation the moment they step foot back in the habsuite: How long has this been going on? How did this happen in the first place? What do she always do with them? The only questions that were about you were answered back with positivity.

Curious, he decided to look more into your file when the Decepticons fight the Autobots near the Ark. When he does, all he finds is all good things.

When it was the next time they decided to visit, he wanted to meet her in person. And so he did, and by Primus were you nervous. You were worried he might blow your helm up. You, Soundwave, and his minicons walked through the park, watching the minicons play games, ride the rides; he began to trust you.

The more you all hang out in private, at your secret location, the more you begin to bond closer together, mainly you and Soundwave; the minicons noticed it as clear as day.

So, being mischievous little ones they are, Rumble and Frenzy decided to stage a lil' something. In private, the minicons would call Soundwave Sire, or dad in human terms. So, when the next time you and they met up, they would unexpectedly drop Carrier, mom, at random times in the night. When they first did it, they'd put on an act like as if they didn't mean to say it and it just slip. You fell for their act, so did Soundwave because it was unexpected.

They see you? An Autobot medic? As a parental figure? I mean, sure, you heal up their injuries, you give them Energon sweets if they be good and behave, calmly deal with their fights, gives them sweet head pats, have the most caring optics he's seen, the most beautiful smile- Oh, scrap! He's in love.

He would lie awake at night, questioning why he found you attractive. For starters, your gently touch that he felt when you repaired him, your smiles seem to shine brighter than any star, and sound from your vocalizer was like a siren's call and he was the sailor that was lured by its enchanting melody, your optics the prettiest shade of blue that rivals with this hunk of rock's sky, have the spirit of a Carrier with his kids- Primus, he was hooked, lined and had sunk deep.

After he came to terms with his newfound emotions, he started noticing something about you. Every single time he was close to you, he'd see the screen of your alt-mode, on your chassis, start getting taller. One time, he danced with you as music played in the park, and he saw that the big spikes became frequent, and a subtle blush would be on your cheek plates that you try to hide with your servo and turning your helm to the side. He found this adorable, so much that he became addicted to having that cute blush on your face.

When back on the Ark, you would get pings from an unknown comm-link number, only to realize it's Soundwave, and he's sending you something. When you are finally alone in your habsuite, you would take a look to see that they were poems; they were so sweet, you reread them, laying on your berth, kicking your feet as you excitedly giggle from how nice, sweet, and adorable they are that they might as well be invitations for Cupid to continue to shoot arrows into your spark, making you fall harder for the Con.

When they spent the night in your secret base, you all had fun doing any activity that comes to mind: pillow/blanket forts, teaching the little ones the steps on how you make your glorious Energon Goodies, etc. The last activity was a horror movie marathon. Every time a jump scare would pop up on the screen, you would hug the closest bot, and it just so happened to be Soundwave. During the horror movie marathon, you, Soundwave, and his kids ended up in a cuddle pile, scared, all but Soundwave, Ravage, and Laserbeak.

They decided to spend the night here before returning to the Decepticon base at the break of dawn. You decided to put the little ones to sleep. He decided to start cleaning up the mess that was made, and when he finished, he came back to you telling the ending of an old Cybertron bedtime story.

To him, it looked so nice and peaceful, and you looked so motherly that he just wanted to confess right there, right now. What sealed the deal was you placing a goodnight kiss on the top of their helms, tucking them to sleep before leaving the room they were occupying, only to be dragged off to somewhere by Soundwave, into the place you slept in from time-to-time.

You wondered what was happening, until Soundwave got on one knee plate, servos holding your own, visor looking up into your optics, glistening as he let out a very poetic, charming, delightful, exquisite of him telling you about his feelings, everything about you that made his spark soar: your voice, your optics, your touch, everything.

He carefully watched the screen on you chassis to see if there was any indication of making you uncomfortable or not. And by the end of his heartfelt confession, he watched the heart monitor didn't make any giant spikes. Oh, no. It made a heart at the center of the monitor as blush covers your entire faceplate.

Part 2 coming soon!

[spurbleu]

i love ur writing so much!! my request is Ken Sato telling you to masturbate in front of him 😇 feel like he’d get pride out of turning u on

MDNI dirty talk, voyeurism

oh i absolutely believe this man gets a kick out of your arousal. he’d kiss you tougher, holding your face in his hands, calloused palms making your cheeks an ugly shade of pink. it’s all about the shapes with you two- the round of your spine, the cut of his shoulders, the slender line that barely separates you both- and the improper, beautifully dirty curve of your moans.

he’d step back from you, heaving. a web- attached at the base of his swollen lips. it would finished on your own, it’s wet strings drooping with the weight of your own reliance.

then the man fucking kneels.

“fuck yourself, baby. c’mon now, don’t be shy.”

and you do. one hand scissoring the doughy walls of your cunt, slick spilling over the stamp of your ass and onto the sheets. the other rubbing drunk circles on your clit- it’s bud bruised under the runes of your fingertips. your mind draws blanks as you mumble his name over the spit that collects under your tongue, spilling from the corners of your mouth in pre-orgasm drool.

he’d watch, chubbing up at the sight of you- just his fucking voice got you this riled? he palmed his boxers in thrill, enjoying seeing the shake in your legs, the spasm of your hips. reeling in his own ego, peeling back enough to reveal an indecency that kept him edging you on.

“so beautiful like this, baby. all wet for me.”

“don’t fucking stop baby. God- look at you. such a good mess for me, huh?”

he’d grab you by the hips eventually, cunt flush against his mouth as he finished you off. not that you were done, anyway. after the little act you put on, he’d keep you showing off for the rest of the night.

[lunarbreaksblog]

G1 Soundwave x reader || Cheri Cheri Lady ||

Note: this is for all my autistic girlies ( I'm the girlies)

You are human, Soundwave is a alien robot. It's weird. However, he could care less what other people think. He loves you for who you are.

He knows that you are a little different to the other humans. Your processor thinks more quickly than other humans. You seem to fiddle with your hands and sometimes you sound like you have no emotions, but he knows that you care.

You are independent as well, he can count on you for things. It was a bit rough for you at the beginning, having to get accustomed to the base and the others. But you plowed through. You mostly like the cassettes.

He loves that you like them even if though, Rumble and Frenzy can be menaces.

He actually trusts you enough to help with his admin. Megatron could care less as long as it's done.

Soundwave won't admit it, but he loves you body. His people are so solid. You're so soft, he loves just holding you but he won't if you're feeling overwhelmed, though he will look from the corner at you and repress his need to just squish you.

The cassettes don't really hate nor like you at first but then as they get to know you. They find out why Soundwave likes you so much. You just seem so much smarter and more caring, even if they are cons. They need love to live.

The cassettes also love being near you, you're like a pillar of warmness and love. Ravage love sleeping on you, specifically between your breasts.

You like become a second carrier to them.

Soundwave is quite happy that the Autobots lead them to earth, because if they didn't he wouldn't be able to find the love of his life

[blindmagdalena]

Ruiner

18+ 2.6k incubus!homelander x f!reader. extremely dubious consent, cunnilingus, comeplay/eating, vaginal dp, dirty talk, tail fucking, mild mindbreak, transformation, possessive behavior, breeding kink, marathon fucking, multiple orgasm, tail oral? mild breathplay.

After weeks of exhaustion, no matter how much sleep you get, you wake to a strange visitor in your bed. In a dark and honied voice, he promises you the pleasures found only in eternity.

written for monsterlander mania. check out this illustration by @luckytiggertalia!

For weeks, your nights have been plagued by a strange restlessness. No matter how early you retire to bed, you wake up heavy and groggy. It’s as if you close your eyes for a second, and then instantly wake twelve hours later, as unrested as ever. By the time you go to bed tonight, you’re nearly in a state of delirium, collapsing atop the covers without bothering to change your clothes.

The sun hasn’t set yet, but your eyes are too heavy to stay awake. Your whole body aches in misery.

“Please, just one… One good night,” you plead, bordering on tears as you curl up, nuzzling into your pillow. You fall asleep almost instantly–as you always do–and pray to anyone or anything willing to listen that this time, you actually rest.

You’re not sure what time it is when you wake. Strangely, it’s still dark out. You can’t remember the last time you woke before the sun rose, too exhausted to imagine it. Your head lolls from one side to the other, seeking out the LED glow of your clock, but you can’t make out the numbers. They’re bleary, and to your misery, you’re still heavy with fatigue.

The weight is more than that, though. You don’t just feel heavy, you feel something upon you. In the dark, you can make out a shadow above you, tracing the silhouette with your eyes, which widen as you see two glowing crimson spheres returning your stare.

“Hey you,” the figure above you purrs in a low voice so deliciously warm and sweet, you swear you feel it on your tongue. “Really did a number on you, didn’t I? You’re just so damn… tasty,” the figure coos, leaning down into the dim light of the moon spilling into your room, allowing you to properly see who is speaking to you.

You see strong features. Pronounced cheekbones, a broad, flat nose bridge, and the second the light hits them, those eerie red eyes shift into a handsome endless blue. His head is topped with a clean sweep of golden blonde hair, and when he tilts it, you see the distinct curve of long, twisting black horns jutting out on either side of it. You feel a scream build in your lungs, but it stays there, tight and unescaping in your chest. You realize you can’t move. You can’t speak.

“But I can admit when I’ve gone overboard, okay? And since you’ve been so good to me, I’m gonna be good to you,” he tells you, dragging a single finger down the line of your throat. It’s clawed, you realize belatedly, and you hear it cut through your clothing as easily as shears through paper.

You try desperately to choke out something, say anything, but it’s as if your throat is being held in an invisible vice lock. You’re shocked you can breathe.

“Shshshhhh,” he hushes, warm hands pulling the shreds of clothing from your body. You know your room is cold, but all you can feel is the heat rolling from the body atop yours like a burning hearth given flesh.

“Relax. It’s me. And we’ve had so much fun together, you and I,” he says, leaning down to brush his lips over yours. The contact sparks like a shock of electricity, making you gasp. With that jolt comes a flash of images one after another, the blurry edges of them falling somewhere between memories and dreams only half remembered.

You’ve been here before, felt the lick of this heat against your skin. Your own moans echo in your ears like a cacophony of overlapping instances of self. Every inch of your skin feels hot, like you’ve just been submerged in a scorching bath. Flashes of nights spent in the throes of ecstasy assault your mind, and at the center of it all, a pair of lucent rubied eyes.

“That’s it, see now. See how you’ve been mine all along,” he murmurs, lips brushing the hollow of your throat. His tongue drags a hot trail down your chest, dipping to the side, where he sucks a mark into the swell of your right breast. He pulls away with a soft pop, and kisses his way to your nipple. This time, you can feel the inhuman length of his tongue coiling around the sensitive hard bud like a serpent before you feel the pull of his lips sucking at you.

He takes your opposite breast in his clawed hand and massages it with his palm, coaxing more noises from you, more exquisite pleasure. The miasma of his presence is so overwhelming, you can feel it in the weight of the air. Every breath you take feels heavy in your lungs.

Bit by bit every drop of panic drains from you, replaced by sweltering shameless enjoyment. The more you allow it, the better his hands feel. His mouth feels best of all, a wicked thing that makes your skin feel so good it burns.

He uses his knees to spread your legs, and that’s when you feel the press of something thick between your thighs, dragging up the slick mess he’s made of you, pressing against your lightly throbbing clit. It moves strangely, with articulate deftness that defies all expectation. You jolt, a moan escaping you. “What is that?” You rasp, unsure of when you became able to speak again.

“Me,” he tells you, and the feeling disappears. A second later, you see an appendage rise up behind him. A tail, you realize. It’s as black as his horns, long and ridged on the top. The bottom reminds you of the belly of a snake, with smooth scales that layer seamlessly down. You watch, transfixed, as he brings it to his lips and opens wide, taking it into his mouth. You see just a flash of gleaming, sharp fangs. When the tail pulls away, it’s coated in a shiny, thick layer of saliva. 

It disappears, and you feel the pressure of it at your pussy once more, slowly and painlessly easing you open.You feel each and every bump as it slips into you, firm but malleable. You writhe, letting out a jagged moan. You realize you can move when you reflexively grab onto his hair, though the knuckles of your right hand bump his horn. Instinctively, you take hold of his horn, giving it a sharp pull that makes him moan.

He pulls off of your breast with a wet pop, both of which have grown tender under his attention. “More,” he encourages you, tilting his head to tug against your grasp. You comply, taking both of his horns into your hands and pushing his head down, down, down.

“Good, that’s good,” he growls, claws dragging tantalizing lines down your body, the sharpness of them drawing faint welts on your skin. He grabs your thighs and leans in to tongue your aching clit, pulling another moan from you. “Take, sweetheart. Take as much as you want. Take like I take from you,” he says, words like an inferno breathed on the most sensitive part of you.

You swear you can feel strength returning to your body. Your eyes no longer burn with desire for sleep. For the first time in weeks, you truly feel awake again.

His tail pushes deeper inside you while his impossibly long tongue draws figure-eights over your clit. You throw your head back and yank on his horns, back arching. You bounce your hips, fucking yourself on his tail while grinding against his tongue. He laughs against you, humming in pure delight at the way you hold him in place, shamelessly using him for your mounting pleasure. The vibrations drive you steadily to the brink.

You feel feverish with need, sweat prickling your skin. His mouth feels silky and hot against you while the ridges of his tail make you writhe with every push and pull. You come hard, clenching down on his tail, legs tightening on either side of his head, yanking his horns hard enough that he makes a shuddering noise of pleasure against you.

The euphoria is so intense that your vision turns white, but it doesn’t last. The waves fade out, and you’re left breathing heavily, wanting more.

“More,” you voice immediately, even as your legs shake. He messily licks his lips, swiping your shiny slick and his spit from his chin with his thumb before sucking it into his mouth. “I need more,” you say fervently.

He crawls up the length of your body like a stalking tiger, settling his weight overtop of you. He kisses you, licks the taste of sex and cinnamon into your mouth. His tongue curls around yours, pushing almost to the back of your throat. He breaks from you with a ragged breath. “You’ve kept me so well fed. Now it’s my turn to give you everything,” he vows, reaching down between your bodies. 

Your brows furrow, lips parting on a silent cry as you feel the blunt, wet head of his cock pressing into you just above his tail. He moans, holding you still while he slowly sinks into you. 

“Been so fucking perfect for me. Sweet little cunt, always dripping for me before I even touch you. You want to feel like this forever, don’t you? But why be my pet when you could be my equal, hmm? I can make you like me,” he whispers, punctuating every word with a thrust of his hips that brings him a little deeper each time. “And we’ll eat, fuck and live how we want for all eternity. Tell me that’s what you want.”

You keen, spreading your legs wider in an attempt to adjust to the added girth. You nod eagerly. The last thing you want to do is leave this exquisite agony behind, return to the mundane monotony of your life beyond this burning inferno. 

“Use your words, sweetheart,” he coos, cupping the side of your face. The sharp claw of his thumb drags across your cheek, barely light enough not to break the skin. He rocks his hips gently, alternating those thrusts with the slide of his tail. “Before I have to break you… Tell me that you want me to keep you.”

You grip his shoulders, struggling for breath. You feel so unbelievably full as he fucks you, floating on the overwhelm of sensation, but you’re present enough that his words send a shiver down your spine. “Yes. Yes, I want you to keep me. I want you to be mine forever,” you say, not wanting to lose this again. You don’t want to forget. You don’t want him to stop. You’re addicted to this. To him.

He moans loudly, dipping back down to kiss you. He hikes your legs up around his waist and thrusts in deep, swallowing your answering noises while he picks up a punishing pace, pounding you into the mattress hard enough that the whole bed shakes, headboard slamming against the wall.

“Fucking… tight,” he moans as you get closer to another climax, his voice frayed and eager. “I won’t insult you by stopping when you come. I’m going to fuck you so full of my come, you’re going to taste it,” he growls, hips snapping harder with each word, his tail and his cock fucking you until the tether in you snap, and you’re coming again, dragging your nails up his back while he mercilessly pounds you into the bed. 

He’s just as unrelenting as he promised to be, growling into the crook of your neck. You gasp when he sinks his teeth into your skin, holding you in place and fucking you like an animal until he, too, succumbs to his pleasure, his groan muffled into your flesh while a rush of heat fills your stuffed cunt even fuller.

You’re sure that’s the end of it.

You’re wrong.

He doesn’t stop thrusting. His cock is still hard inside you, heavy balls slapping against your ass with every thrust.

“No breaks for you,” he rasps, lapping at the bite he left at your neck. “This is your only purpose now.” He hauls you hips up, lifts himself up on his knees so that only your upper back and head are left on the bed.

You hear a noise behind him that sounds like tree branches snapping, and two enormous, leathery black wings unfurl from his back. His eyes glow like burning coals in the darkness. You give a shuddering moan as his tail slides out of you, reappearing over his shoulder.

He brings it right to your lips.

“Open,” he murmurs. You do, parting your lips and welcoming the silky slide of his tail on your tongue. He tastes like salt, sex and warm spices. Your eyelids flutter as you suck every drop, moving your tongue greedily over the tip of it. He bows his head back down against your shoulder, moaning in your ear so hungrily that you realize it must feel good for him. You suck harder, and sure enough, he shudders, holding your hips while he fucks you faster.

“Ffffuck, you’re so fucking good for me. Take me so good. Perfect pussy for breeding. Won’t spill a fucking drop, will you?” His rhythm never falters despite how ruined his own voice sounds. He pushes his tail deeper into your mouth, fucks your throat the same way he fucks your cunt, making it hard to breathe.

He comes again, dragging you over the threshold with that same intense rush of liquid heat. Your whole body trembles, and you’re lightheaded from lack of oxygen. His tail slips from your lips only to be replaced by his thumb hooking the corner of your mouth. He peers inside, and his lips split into a wicked grin. “Good girl,” he rumbles, prying your mouth open wider, inspecting your teeth. Confused, you roll your tongue along your top teeth, and only then do you understand.

You have fangs.

Before you can express your disbelief, he kisses you again, rocking against you in comparatively leisurely thrusts, luxuriating in the soaking wet mess he’s made of your cunt. “Just a little more, sweetheart, and you’ll be just like me. You and me? We’re gonna eat this whole fucking world alive.”

You lose track of how much time goes by. You lose track of how many times you come. How many times he comes. He fucks you until your pussy is raw and your voice hoarse. He kisses, licks and bites his way over every inch of you. It’s as if he desperately wants to devour you, and the only thing holding him back is his promise to keep you. 

You don’t have a single thought left in your head other than taking his cock deeper, feeling more of him, tasting more of him. You’re so cum-drunk it’s made you stupid, focused only on the pleasure he has to offer you. It should hurt, you think, and yet all you feel is resplendent euphoria.

He changes you. You grow more than fangs; your nails turn to claws, and you can feel the weight of horns on your skull. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he moans, coming inside you again with a shuddering moan. You feel his tail twist around yours.

“So fucking perfect. I love you, I love you, I love you,” he chants deliriously, adjusting your body against his own as he starts to thrust again.

The sun never does rise. You’re not sure that it ever will.

You don’t care, though. Not so long as you’re his, and he’s yours.

[transformers-spike]

@yandereskies come get your juice, guess who couldn't take a break without writing a sequel to the G1 Soundwave x reader fic Tw:dubcon

You've grown used to it Someway, somehow, it doesn't feel as bad. A few months ago, you would have rather died than allowed it to happen. But now, you're too tired to do anything about it. Kick yourself all you want, you can't force flight or fight. You've run out of adrenaline.

The human mind isn't designed to withstand constant stress; you notice the threat, you run, you fight, you freeze or you allow yourself to be molded by it. The alarms blaring in your head have shut off, leaving you numb and exhausted with nothing to rely on.

You've been waiting for so long for the Autobots to reach you, but it's like you never existed. Are you this forgettable ? A no-one with the misfortune of meeting Gods? You are no Paris, no Perseus and certainly no Achilles; not even a meager soldier. You're a background character in your own life, meant to be overlooked and eventually forgotten.

“So why…” you want to ask, “why did you notice me?

He handled you gently despite your aggression, even as your insults turned vicious, he ignored your desperate attempts to hurt him.

The dread caused by the mere echo of his synthesized voice has disappeared altogether, lending a new strange sort of comfort that beyond all logic should not exist.

Yes, you are trapped. But is it so wrong to trade your freedom for recognition? He listens to you no matter how boring and one sided your conversations get. He offers you a generous (although limited) access to your favorite media; obscure shows he shouldn't know about, movies on your private watch list, and plenty of books, most from your old apartment. You still recognize their faded pages and worn out books.

You don't have to attend your 9 to 5 white-collar job anymore. Your office cubicle is empty if not outright replaced, your place in the company has never mattered and so does your fate. Why can't you let yourself be happy?

Your basic needs are met, you have more time than ever to focus on what you love, and you have access to much needed social interaction.

At first it was Laserbeak assuming sentry duty, standing guard in Soundwave’s quarters, watching you like a hawk. You must admit , you've made a wild dash for the exit countless times, only to have Laserbeak dive between you and the door, wings spread out and snapping his beak.

But you've mellowed out over time. Laserbeak switched to Ravage. Ravage switched to Buzzsaw. Buzzsaw switched to Rumble and Frenzy. Soon enough , you started watching your series with them; Laserbeak perched upon the edge of the couch, Ravage curled up at your feet, Buzzsaw lying next to you or Rumble and Frenzy casually hanging out on your ouch like roommates.

It shouldn’t be that hard to accept. You're fine. You're part of their fucked up little family – if you can even call it that. Soundwave carries you around like a beloved pet, the other Decepticons treating it so casually you wonder if you're the only human they own. If Megatron is bothered by his Communications Officer’s behavior, he shows no sign of it.

This is fine. Being around Soundwave makes you feel secure in yourself, because he cares about you. And if this is the only love being offered to you, you’ll gladly take it. Past you would have abhorred your actions, but that version of you is long dead and buried.

You let him have sex with you. It started off small; lingering touches, digits ghosting over skin you’d never let anyone else see. When he entered you, you felt complete, like he was your missing piece, and you became at peace with your own being. A single one of his digits filled you to the brim, unlike your old dildo. It hurt, but it was a good kind of hurt, a burning sensation as he stretched you open, having you clench around him like a virgin. He patiently worked you up until you came, delicately circling the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs with the tip of his massive thumb.

When you opened your eyes, he was leaning over you, spike fully pressurized. You welcomed it against your entrance, stroking it between your spread legs until your inexperienced mouth brought his overload, coating your stomach in transfluid. “I love you,” you said, unsure of your own reality.

[kedsandtubesocks]

this high of you & me

Lucien Flores x F!Reader

summary: Lucien Flores is your weed dealer and you think that’s about it

warnings/tags: 18+ MDNI. dealer!Lucien AU, drug use and discussion, shotgunning, sweet giggly moments, mentions of unspecified age gap (reader’s age is not mentioned but Lucien is older) reader and Lucien under the influence but he’s still a consent king, one use of ‘good girl,’ light making out

word count: 1.4k

a/n: I wrote this in a possessed fever after that clip & I know this might not reflect his personality once the movie comes out but I just had to I’m sorry, thank you to @lowlights & @tightjeansjavi for letting me scream about this and if you decide to read this - know I’m thanking you a million times

His house is an eclectic mess.

There’s a framed photo of Gustav Klmit’s ‘The Kiss’ beside a black light poster of a tiger. His awful leather black couch screams of a bachelor refusing to grow up.

“All I have to drink is bad tap water, ginger ale, or a mini grey goose sample.” Lucien yells from his kitchen.

“Uh, the ginger ale is fine.” You answer back.

This is the first time you’ve ever been alone with him.

Normally you’ve only experienced him with your best friend and his boyfriend. They’re the ones, through a friend of a friend, who introduced you to Lucien.

That’s how he became your dealer.

Now as you try to seem busy, you scan the book shelves in his living room.

There are many things that catch your eye -

The Alchemist by Paulo Coehlo, a very abstract but suggestively sexual mini sculpture of two beings entangled in a type of wave like motion, a clear quartz crystal and a cute elephant figurine.

The man known as Lucien Flores is no short close to a chaotic puff of smoke you think you’re never meant to catch.

Behind you, you hear him rearranging things on his coffee table.

“You gonna joint me, or not?”

His pun makes you snort.

On the glass coffee table sits your drink among a cluttered collection of things.

“You asked for the usual right?” He mutters preparing everything like someone out a check out counter.

“Yeah, but I can go after you give me the- ”

“No, no it’s all good.” He reassures quickly, cutting you off. “I got nothing planned and company is always nice.”

He packages up the weed in the typical baggies he uses. This time they're holographic blue, almost matching his charming but strange vibes in a strange way.

“What happened to the dragon ball z themed bags you had?” You ask jokingly.

“Ran out.” He pouts and you grin.

After separating and packing up everything, he moves to start grinding the weed. Then with a click on his remote his stereo flows to life.

Frank Ocean’s ‘Pink + White’ begins playing and illuminates the room.

Small talk comes. Lucien asks about how work is going, any new shows you’ve gotten into.

He’s charming, like a bizzare off highway tourist attraction you can’t seem to leave.

“No need to sit on the floor. Come on. Spots open right here.” Lucien grins patting the couch beside him.

“Your couch is a pain, hate how it sticks to me.” You reply with a scrunch up face.

“Maybe I want you to keep sticking to it?” He offers light and you roll your eyes.

Being a notorious flirt, you try not to fall under his sweet words spell.

You’re about to make a quip back until you see him yank out a fuzzy blanket and spread it across the couch.

“What a gentleman.” You dryly smirk and Lucien shrugs.

But you rise up to sit besides him, close but not comfortably so.

“How much extra is this gonna cost me hm?” You muse watching him pack the bowl.

“Don’t you know the old saying, pretty babes don’t pay?” Lucien remarks so effortlessly.

Your throat gets a bit dry and you’re thankful for the ginger ale wetting your lips.

The lovely glass pipe, swirled with so many unique colors like the silk button up shirts Lucien wears, is handed to you.

“You first.” Lucien grins.

He even lights it for you, a modern day chivalrous knight in his own fucked up unique way.

The first inhale is always a favorite of yours. The smoke fills you, tickles your senses. But you can’t help but cough a bit.

“That’s the good stuff, huh baby?”

The phrasing and how smug his voice purrs out is dangerous.

“It’s one of the new strands I’ve been wanting to try. S’called ‘girl scout cookie.’ Pretty sweet name huh? But kinda makes me wish I could eat some right about now, ya know.” Lucien rambles as you hand the pipe back to him.

You at least appreciate how talkative and alluring he is. Between passing the pipe back and forth to him, you’re pulled into discussions about aliens, music and then, YouTube videos.

“No,” you giggle. “You gotta see this one.”

“If it’s another sad cat video I’m gonna cry and kick you out.” He pouts and you’re overcome with the urge to lean forward and kiss the furrow in between his brows.

You can’t deny how handsome he is. Like, ridiculously so. You know he’s older but there’s a youthfulness to him that’s reassuring. Like his spirit will always stay free. But you know that also seems dangerous after hearing about the list of exes he had from your best friend’s friend.

So very cautiously you tread into this new territory, whatever it is.

You lean closer, hold your phone up and show him your favorite go to funny video.

You can’t even stop the giggles. You wanna blame the weed, but it’s so hard not to laugh even without it. You’re overcome with glee and lean against Lucien’s shoulder. His shoulders shake and you hear the most adorable twinkling giggle.

He’s laughing.

“See!” You urge. “Told you it’s funny!”

“It’s not that! It’s you! You’re making me laugh.” He wheezes out and your heart flutters.

“Then I’ll stop laughing so you can stop laughing and watch!” You reply back determined.

So pressing your lips together, you rewind the video. You and him stay silent. Or you try to. Your lips twitch so terrible wanting to break.

Then Lucien’s shoulders shake again. In seconds you’re both busting out laughing. Your poor phone is forgotten.

This time he howls with an infectious joy and you feel it in your gut, in your bones.

“You weren’t supposed to laugh!” You chide him through the giggles.

“You weren’t either!” He cackles.

You realize you’re practically draped against him, and Lucien even fully leans back into you.

The smoke, the drug, coats everything in a smokey soft haze and with the high creeping its way into your mind, a molteness seeps into you

Lucien smells so good too, clean, cozy, but also like a cologne you wish you could pinpoint.

“Thanks, it’s dolce and gabbana.” Lucien replies.

Your face ignites in flames realizing you must have spoken your thoughts out loud.

You’re about to scramble out from this mess when you peer up and find Lucien staring. His earth soil eyes, softly dusted with a rosy color, hazily watch you.

“Y’smell good too.” He mumbles back.

“Thanks, it’s my fabric softener.” You tell him.

Lucien busts out laughing, a bright firework of a thing and you once again get caught up in how wildly warm he is.

Shaking his head he shifts to grab the pipe.

But his hand slides to rest against your thigh, like it’s a small way of saying don’t move, don’t leave.

And you don’t.

“You wanna try something fun?” He offers.

“Sure.” You don’t know what you might have just agreed too.

Lucien maneuvers, slides his large warm hand to your face and your heart stops. He tilts your head towards him and his thumb softly rubs against you.

“You trust me?”

The soft lull of Frank Ocean continues playing in the background softening this world around you.

You don’t even know if this man has a middle name or not, but you know him enough, or mainly, find yourself wanting to melt more into him.

So you nod quietly.

“Good girl, just keep your mouth open.”

That line takes your breath away.

You have an idea of what’s coming, but even with that, you crumble.

Lucien inhales from the pipe, filling his mouth with smoke. In a blur he moves. It’s like you blink and he’s all around you.

His hand on your face, his body pressed up flush against you and then, his face slowly moving towards you.

With his lips open, he breathes the smoke into your waiting mouth and your eyes shut in bliss. His lips graze against yours, a tease.

You inhale on instinct. Yet your hands move on their own, possessed, to run against his warm broad chest.

Once the smoke is in your mouth and you hold it in, allowing this mixture of the smoke and him to consume you. You also don’t miss the way Lucien himself breathes out.

Then before you can close your mouth, he lets his tongue gently swipe at your top lip, a kitten-like lick.

But it’s divine.

When a soft whine escapes you, Lucien effortlessly dives in to kiss you, cradling your face and steals your breath away again.

Making out with your dealer could probably be one of the dumbest decisions ever. But he’s a unique high of his own, one making you so dizzy, but you think you don't want it to end just yet.

So you melt into this smoke and into him.

And it’s otherworldly bliss.

[my-writings-and-musings]

Since we've got Bumblebee, Megatron, and Optimus babies, i think it's only fair we add Soundwave to the bunch! Especially after the pregnancy scenario with him a little while back. I'd love to see how Soundwave and the cassettes would react to human reader having a baby and adding a new sibling to the fam!

Yes, indeed it is!! I wrote this adorable little fic, I hope you like it!!

"Status; positive?" Soundwave asked you one final time, kneeling beside the floor level berth as he ensured your blanket nest was sound. More snuggled than you'd ever been in your life, you smiled patiently as your mate continued his endless fussing over your comfort, and nodded your head as your eyes met his visor.

"Yes, I'm still sure." you assured him yet again, taking one arm off the bundle in your lap to lay a comforting hand over his. Trusting your judgment but as careful as ever, he nodded in return and lingered his gaze on the newborn peeking out of his swaddling, a kind of softness settling over his angular features as the two of you sat in a moment of comfortable silence. The little one was more or less asleep at the moment, but had already made a habit of waking in short, bleary bursts of cuteness before inevitably conking out once again, and the two of you had yet to grow tired of the awe you felt at everything he did. Hopefully his siblings would be just as happy to meet him. 

"Affirmative." Soundwave said after collecting himself, rising to his pedes to access the bot sized door to your makeshift maternity ward. It took a few steps for him to unlock all the security features he'd personally installed, but as the final lock came undone with an audible thunk and the heavy metal doors whooshed apart, you had just enough time to catch three human sized bots waiting on the other side. "Cassettes granted access-"

"Where-?!"

Soundwave stepped in front of the eager trio just as they tried to charge inside, his visor leveling on Frenzy in a voiceless repeat of a warning he'd delivered many times already. Thankfully the bitlet in your arms merely gave a tiny twitch at the noise, but was otherwise silent as the cassettes sheepishly shrunk down before approaching with almost exaggerated tip toeing. Looking beyond the big bot, Frenzy spoke up again in a much more controlled whisper, craning her neck for a better view. "Where is he?"

"Right here." you invited gently, encouraging them to approach. Seeing the bundle in your arms gave Frenzy, Ravage and Laserbeak a moment of pause before all three hurried to your side, moving as quietly but swiftly as their respective legs and wings could take them. Having expected such excitement, you merely ensured the sparkling was easily visible before preparing for the inevitable flood of questions.

"No way, he really is a bot!" Frenzy said first, crawling over the berth for a closer look but keeping a comfortable distance. Soundwave kneeled behind you as the entire family gathered around, and even with hushed tones all the action had the little one perking up to look around with his broad visor. The purple cassette only grew more awed as he cooed in mild confusion. "The teeniest one I've ever seen, too!"

Laserbeak, though equally touched by the new arrival, brightened at the sight of his chubby face and rounded visor before turning to his sister with an expression of victory. "Ha, you owe me ten credits! I told you he'd have a visor!"

"Don't be so darn smug, you had half a chance of getting it right." Frenzy scoffed, crossing her arms and meeting the other bot's insufferable gaze. "Besides, I'm the one who predicted him in the first place."

"True, but we didn't wager on that." Laserbeak countered with a snicker, the sound of which caused the sparkling to stir with more energy. Yawning and rubbing his face, the bitlet made an adorable show of smushing his rounded cheeks before his digits found his way to his mouth and he began to suckle, emitting a quiet hum of contentment. The adorable sight softened him, and the avian lowered his voice as he continued.  "Cute lil feller, isn't he?"

"Yeah, can't pretend that's not adorable." Frenzy concurred as Ravage sat quietly at her side, observing the newborn with a few tentative sniffs as the others continued talking. "But how long until he gets an altmode?"

"Development rate, uncertain." Soundwave answered simply, reaching over you to adjust your blankets. The movement made the sparkling reflexively reach for his sire, stubby digits flexing before the uncertain mech offered his son one of his own, which the newborn grasped tightly.

"There's not a lot of info out there about how these things go, so we're just going to figure it out day by day." you explained further, chuckling softly as the sparkling nommed on Soundwave's digit. "For now, he's just a normal newborn."

"A cute one. Look at his widdle servos..." Frenzy said without thinking, so enamored with her new sibling she briefly forgot to be cool. Catching herself with a blush and a cough once she caught Laserbeak smirking, the femme averted her gaze and mumbled a quick addendum. "That uh... that grip will make him a good guitar player, that's all."

Oblivious to how much his arrival had been anticipated, the sparkling decided to return to napping right in the middle of nomming on his sire, yawning once before conking out in your arms once more. The cuteness was too great for anyone to resist, and even Ravage gave a soft purr of adoration as the group gathered more closely around the new arrival, basking in his presence as he snoozed in perfect contentment. He couldn't know it yet, but he was perhaps the safest little one on Earth. 

[morgue-ratt]

Pretty in Pink, A Valentine's Day Fic

Strade x Reader// NSFW// 2.6k Warnings: blood, torture, noncon, wrist trauma,

YOU wonder where Strade goes when he leaves the house. It’s only once or twice a week, he has everything delivered and he works from home. Still, the hours when he’s gone are a slight reprieve, even if this time he had left you locked in the basement.  

You know immediately when Strade is home, the door upstairs slams and you jump. His footsteps are heavy and getting closer and your heart fills with dread; his excitement is never good for you. You try to will yourself to calm down but any hope of that is gone as he flings opens the door at the top of the stairs. Oh god, he went to the hardware store. If that’s the case, it’ll be a long night with you and whatever new toy he found to extract his pound of flesh.  

“Liebling,” He calls, his voice light and friendly. You can feel your heart in your throat as he comes into view. “I’m home, did you miss me?” He doesn’t wait for your answer. “I brought you something!” He holds up a pale yellow, paper bag and your eyes narrow. You can see the lavender tissue paper lining the bag, clearly it’s not from the hardware store. More like a little botique. He’s down the stairs now and he shakes his head. “Silly me, did I forget to tie you again after this morning?”  

“What did you bring?” You ask, your heart pounding. Just because it wasn’t from the hardware store doesn’t mean it can’t be used to inflict evil.  

“Aw,” Strade rubs his thumb over your cheek and you wince. “Do you wanna see your present, Hase? It’s almost Valentine’s Day, you know.”  

“Valentine’s Day?” That does catch you off gaurd. You have no way of knowing how long you’d been here but... Valentine’s Day. Febuary. Nearly a year. It’s staggering. His collar around your throat suddenly feels heavy.  

“Yes!” Strade beams. “So I brought you something... special.” He shoves the bag into your hands and looks at you expectantly. “Well? Open it!”  

The bag is light, which gives you some hope that it isn’t something to inflict pain. Still, you stall as long as you can before you have to look inside. “Valentine’s Day.”  

“Look inside,”  

You pull aside the lavender tissue paper and you feel almost... sea sick when you realize what he’s brought you. You take out a light pink baby doll dress and a matching pair of lace panties. There’s a slit going up the front of the dress, stopping just at the chest with a tiny ribbon bow The whole thing is made of soft, sheer fabric with delicate lace around the edges.  

“Oh... Strade,” You should be releived that he wasn’t planning on cutting you to pieces but the dress makes your stomach churn. “That’s... so sweet of you...” 

Strade was grinning at you like you were something to eat. “Put it on.”  

“What?” You choke.  

“The sale’s lady was very nice, she helped me pick it out. Now put it on.”  

You know that tone, it’s the same one he uses when he orders you to cut yourself. It means do it or else, even though to anyone else it would still be playful. You don’t want to put it on, the idea of making yourself pretty for him makes you almost wish for the hammer. “Okay,” You say quietly. 

“Ah, Liebling. Don’t look so sad.” He runs his hand through your hair and you shudder. “It’ll be fun, I promise.” 

You don’t like when he promises things but you know arguing with him will only make things worse. You take a step back from him and look down at the dress. It’s so strange... this is probably more expensive than anything you have ever would have been able to afford but as you put it on, the silky fabric makes your skin crawl. You stood before Strade in the dress and panties and he gives you that horrible smile again.  

“Oh, Hase, look at you,” Strade purrs, you can feel his eyes comb over you and you cross your arms over yourself, looking down. “Aw, is my Liebling shy, hm?” He laughs. His laugh is always bright, it’s only sinster because of how you know him. “I have another surprise for you.”  

Your heart sinks as he turns towards his work bench.  

“No, Strade,” You can’t keep the panick out of her voice as he opens a drawer and pulls out a handful of nails.  

He laughs again and as he works, he hums a little tune. “There’s no need to be so... nervous.” Strade turns around, hoisting a bright yellow nailgun in his left hand. 

Of course. It will never just be a pretty dress.  

You start to back away. “I don’t--”  

Strade doesn’t seem to care, crossing the basement in two strides and putting his free hand over your mouth. “Shush, shush, it’ll be fun,” He says again.  

You’re looking into those... strange golden eyes so you don’t see when he suddenly kicks you in the shin. You fall to the ground and in a second, he is on top of you; his knees on either side of your ribcage, digging in slightly.  

“There we go,” He says, leaning in so far you can feel his breath on your cheeks, his greasy hair hanging around your face. “That wasn’t so hard, huh?” 

Strade’s hand moves from your mouth down to your throat. He’s smiling down at you, he can see your fear and he knows you well enough to know when you’re holding back tears. He traces his fingers over your collarbone. “You’re just so... pretty.”  

You try to shift under him and his free hand jumps to your left arm, pinning you to the concrete floor. “Strade,” You try but you’re silenced when you feel the barrell of the nail gun pressing against the skin of your forearm.  

He grins when he sees the fear on your face, finally his eyes light up with that usual sadistic glee. “Hase,” He purrs just as he pulls the trigger. Your forearms explodes in pain as it cuts through skin and muscle to the concrete below. You don’t even scream, the sound you make is closer to choking on your own siliva. In fact, you don’t scream until the second nail hits bone. When you do, Strade leans even closer to kiss you, effecrively cutting you off. Your tears stream down your face and into your mingling mouths. He pulls back to mutter something in your ear (“Du gehörst mir.”), but you are barely aware of anything except the nails in your arm.  

He pulls away, your mouth feels dry. You turn your head towards your arm and the sight makes you ill; they’re long nails, at least eight inchs. Your breathing gets faster and Strade notices;  

“Excited, Liebling?” Strade asks, brushing the tears off your face. He brings the nail gun to your other arm.  

“No,” You say quietly, trying to shake your head. Strade brings the barrel of the gun to your wrist. “No, no, Strade--” He pulls the trigger and you scream again. You try to twist away but it only causes the nails to tear through flesh.  

“Oh... oh, darling;” Strade puts the forth nail in, right below the crook of elbow. He’s enjoying this, your screams and your refletive attempts to get away that are only bringing you blood and pain. He’s elated.  

You’re sobbing so hard you could barely see him. He flicks the nail in your wrist curiously and you can only whimper. He leans down and kisses you, it was slow and deep and it would have been... sweet. Strade pulls away slightly, kissing the collum and your throat and your eyes flutter closed. Maybe he’s done, maybe his bloodlust is satiated, maybe-- 

You shriek when Strade suddenly sinks his teeth into your collarbone and your eyes fly open. “Look at me,” he muttered, his face buried in your chest before he bites you again, even harder. His mouth is covered in your blood, he watches it flow down from the wound like a cat watches a bird. Strade drags his hands through it and you watch, horrified, as he starts to draw hearts on your stomach and throat.  

The sight of your red only spurrs him on. Strade sits back on his haunchs, no longer looming over you, but only to undo and pull off his belt. You know what’s about to happen, you knew the moment you saw frilly pink lace. You feel it, wrapped around your body like miasma.  

The sound of Strade’s zipper cuts through the haze your feeling, dull alarm bells go off somewhere in the back of your mind. Strade’s calloused fingers loop under the waistband of the pretty pink panties and pulls them down. He’s being careful, he doesn’t want them to tear, unlike soft skin of your forearms.   

There was enough blood on Strade’s hands for him to use it as lube, you watch with lidded eyes as he runs his fist down the length of his cock, staining it red. He disgusts you. In fact, you didn’t realize how close fear and disgust really are until you ended up here.  

Strade pushes his way into you but it’s the least of the pain you’re feeling. It almost feels... nice, until he ruts into you. You move with his thrusts, causing the nails to pull through your flesh; your forearms, your wrist and your elbow. You can’t help but cry and again; “St- Strade, please.”  

“Shush,” Strade looks... hungry. He thrusts in harder than before and you scream. “Yes, that’s it.” He says quietly. He grips your hips as he sheathes himself fully inside you, watching as your face twists in pain. “Does it feel nice? Do I make you feel good, Liebling?”  

His mistakes your cries of pain for moans of pleasure, or perhaps he doesn’t care. Strade bares his teeth, the glint in his eyes is paralyzing. You can’t breathe, your tounge is heavy in your mouth. He kisses you hard as his hands creep around your throat without actually choking you.  

Strade is crushing you into the concrete, all you can smell is his him; sweat, beer, grease and metal. You can tell he’s getting close, no doubt your tears are helping him get there, he licks them off your cheeks, leaving your face coated in saliva. “Hase,” He breathes, his lips against your ear and he pants. He’s going faster and faster and you can’t hold back your desperate screams as the nails slash and pull through your flesh. “Mein süßer kleiner Hase,”  

One final thrust causes the nails in your forearm to rip further through your skin. He finishes as your scream echoes through the basement. You’re sobbing, your heart is pounding so hard in your chest you wouldn’t be surprised if he could hear it to. Strade lays on top of you, breathing heavy and hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You can feel his smile against your throat. “Oh, Liebling,” He just lays on top of you his head resting on your chest as you cry softly. He doesn’t seem to mind, he’s watching you as he reaches up to wrap a lock of your hair around his finger.  

You loose track of time. Eventually, he gets up off of you and your eyes follow him. Strade goes over to his work bench. “No” You say, your voice soft. “No...” he only laughs as he pulls someone off the pegboard. You shift your hips but you can’t do anything more. “Stop...” You’re almost whining at this point. He turns around, holding the hammer. “No,” you shift away as much as you can.  

Strade settles on top of you, keeping you caged between his legs. He brings his fingers to his lips and you fall silent. You don’t even blink and he grips the hammer. He brings his free hand to your left arm, pushing it down onto the concrete between the two nails there. He uses the claw of the hammer to pull out the first nail and you let out a strained choking sound as the nail pings against the floor.  

“Shush...” He purrs, prying another nail free from your flesh.  

He’s... helping. He’s hurting you but it’s only to help. You met his eyes and try to even out your breathing. You sound like you’ve just come up for air as he claws the nail out of your wrist and your fingers twitch. The sound of the nail bouncing off the floor echoes in your head. You barely feel the last nail as it’s exhumed from your elbow. All you can do is sigh as Strade collapses on top of you yet again. You feel his stubble scrape against your cheek as he whispers;  

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Liebling,”  

[idyllcy]

and baby, if you knew

word count: 2.1k || pt2 of saying we're just friends

warnings: mentions of the night before (?), morning after, hickies (?)

summary: oh the horrors of getting caught the morning after

You stare at yourself in the mirror, blinking incredulously. (Partially out of pure shock, partially because sleeping with your contacts on was NOT a smart decision on your end)

Holy fuck, Tim got mouthy with you.

You tilt your neck to brush your fingers over the hickeys, gawking at the way it trails down your neck and collar to your chest, the purple popping on your skin. Sure, you weren't half as pale as Tim was, but hello? You didn't even bring concealer. You weren't expecting him to take you to the Wayne Manor. 

"Tim." You swallow, grimacing.

Tim raises a brow, shirt pulled halfway over his head.

"How many hickeys did you give me? Do you have a whisk? Do you have ice? Are you secretly a vampire???"

"One question at a time, lovely." he mumbles. "Seven. There's a whisk and ice downstairs. I am not secretly a vampire, although I can see why you'd guess that."

You blink at him. "Do you have a collared shirt?"

"Just settle for one of my shirts for now." He pulls the shirt over his head, tossing you the other one in the bed. 

"Please tell me it's not sheer."

"It's not."

"Thank GOD you're rich." You mumble. "It's a blessing to have non-sheer white shirts."

"Yeah, I get that." He mumbles. "Come on. Alfred called us for breakfast a little ago."

"Which one of your siblings are here?"

"We'll see." Tim hums, shutting the door to his room. (All of them are downstairs, likely. They were probably having a post-valentine debriefing like they usually do. Bruce was not spared from it.)

You duck behind Tim when you notice everyone having breakfast.

"You said we'll see! Are none of them staying with the people they were out with last night?!"

"It happens every year." Tim hums, holding his hand out for you. "Come on. Don't do the walk of shame."

"Seriously. I run a stan account for you and live in my dorm. I'm practically a hermit." You deadpan. "I am NOT cut out to be meeting your family this early in the morning."

"Master Tim, young miss. Are you ready for breakfast? We are having pancakes."

"Just kidding I would kill for pancakes right now." You mumble, following behind Tim as he sits you next to him.

All eyes are on you as you adjust the collar of your shirt, the tag scratching against your skin, the hickeys on your neck visible. You thank Alfred as he places a plate before you, and you start at the chocolate chip pancakes. Holy shit, fuck the eyes on you, this was heaven.

"Alfred, do you have a recipe book?" You blink at him, eyes wide in admiration. 

"Which recipe would you like, young miss?"

"Oh, all of them if possible. I'd love to be able to cook half as well as you can." You hum, taking another bite of your food. "Do you have a digital copy?"

"Unfortunately, all of it is on paper or in here." He smiles, tapping his brain. "But I am more than willing to provide you with any recipes you may like."

"Mm!" You shove the last piece of the pancake into your mouth, swallowing as you get up. "Tim, do you have a laptop? I want to type a couple recipes down and transcribe what's on paper—"

"Pull open the drawer to your left." He hums.

You pull it open, blinking at him.

"There's a false bottom in it. One of my spare laptops is in it. The password is a combination of letters." He hums.

"With significance?"

"Yes."

"Oh, then I know an approximation, then." You hum, working your finger into the side as you prop it open, pulling his laptop out. "Is it our birthdays?"

"Wait, how did she–" Dick's cut off when you manage to open it on your first try.

"Alright. I'm gonna go! I'll be with Alfred if you need anything." You smile.

"She just?" Duke blinks incredulously. "Did she just hack open your laptop on her first try? Is she in compsci like you?"

"English." Tim grabs a couple pancakes, cutting off a piece of butter. "Creative writing, technically."

"Oh, is she making her own major?"

"Yes." Tim hums. "I don't actually know how she guessed that it would be our birthdays since I only changed it a little while ago. It'd be easier to open if it was just our birthdays combined. Maybe she was stalking me."

"Or, maybe all the years of running a Robin Twitter account finally paid off." Jason shrugs. "She's quite a big writer on the internet too, you know?"

"Yeah." Tim hums. "She's quite the character. Have you read her works?"

"I have." Damian speaks up. "Her writing resembles poetry, pulling on the strings of your heart and snapping them at moments you least expect."

"You've read her works?!" Tim raises a brow at Damian. "That's surprising."

"She resembles the poets."

"She'd love to hear that come out of your mouth for sure." Tim mumbles. "Anything else I should know?"

"She covered me for change once while I went to buy cup noodles." Cass mumbles.

"I'm mutuals with her on Twitter?" Steph points.

"Okay, that's not the point. Timmy." Dick deadpans. "Did you sleep with her last night?"

"Sex or just plain sleeping? Because we did both—"

"I DIDN'T GET TO GIVE YOU THE SHOVEL TALK!" Dick cries. "Okay, when a man and a—"

"Dick, I'm well over into the ages of a legal adult." Tim sighs. "Besides, I'm like seventy percent sure that you gave me the shovel talk when you first found out I was dating Ari in high school. Also, I got one from my dad and Bruce, so I think I'm good."

"Oh, right." Dick mumbles. "But still."

Steph pauses. "Does she want a whisk?"

"She was asking for one earlier." Tim hums.

"We'll go help." Cass mumbles, getting out of the seat, dragging Steph.

"Okay, Tim. Is she the one who was making you all red and blushy during Christmas?" Dick slides closer to him, throwing an arm around his shoulder.

"Yes." Tim sighs, batting Dick's hand away. "She was."

"How'd you ask her out?"

"Told her if she had nothing to do on Valentine's, then she could stick with me and I could plan a date." Tim reaches for another pancake.

"And she agreed?" Jason snorts. "Wow. She's way out of your league."

"Yeah, but at least I got B's absolutely insane ability to pull." He mumbles. "Pulled way out of my league, for sure."

"If you fumble her I fear the things that will happen to you, Drake." Damian clicks his tongue.

"Do I... know her?"

"Duke," Damian sighs. "You're smarter than this."

"He's messing with you right now." Jason pours himself another cup of coffee. 

"What's your relationship with her." Tim deadpans.

"She used to peer review my poems." He hums. "It didn't click until Damian showed me her information this morning, though."

"You just let them go through my girlfriend's personal information?!" Tim finally looks at Bruce, who only gives him a shrug.

"No harm in knowing a little more about your girlfriend."

"I swear, if you bring her in on the vigilantism—"

"That's not happening. I can promise that." Bruce glances at his almost empty mug. "Does she know?"

"She called me out for being Red Robin last night in the car." Tim sighs. "Besides, it'd be strange if she didn't notice immediately how similar Red Robin and I's voices are."

"She's been running your account for how long... now?" Bruce motions for Jason to pass him the coffee.

"Since middle school, so like..." Tim pauses. "Give or take seven years."

"That's a long time." Dick mumbles. "My longest-running fanpage is only six-ish years." 

"If you count the Gotham Gazette, then I've been running for the longest." Bruce snorts. "Is she the one?"

"I think she is." Tim smiles. "And if she's not..."

"Then I will personally see the end of your life, Drake." Damian grumbles. "I shall have mother adopt her and have her write poetry for me in exchange for a living space and food. She shall be the equivalent of a court poet except to mother and I."

"I honestly think she wouldn't turn that down." Tim grimaces. 

"Is she that desperate?"

"She's joked about sleeping with a millionaire to make some money." Tim grimaces. "Something something desperate situations call for desperate measures."

"She would love it in mother's mansion, then." Damian hums, sipping on his tea. "I shall have her write a poem for your death. It shall be my last mercy."

Tim grimaces. "What if she breaks up with me?"

"Then you're in the fault, obviously." Jason mumbles, looking at his phone. 

"So it's my fault regardless of what happens?"

"Listen, her tweets are unhinged. You can't say you like crazy girls and then get annoyed when you date one and she acts insane." Jason grumbles.

"He's got a point, Timmers." Dick hums. "I hope it works out for the best, regardless of the ending."

"Twenty bucks they are endgame." Damian mumbles.

"Alfred bet ten that Tim would pop the ring."

"Ugh, come on. You know no one out-bets Alfred." Dick groans. "Did he set up the jar?"

"He did. This morning." Duke hums. "I put my bet in too."

"Come on–"

"You can't say shit when you bet on all of our relationships and pretty much came out unscathed in all of them." Jason glares. "Shut it."

Tim rolls his eyes, surrendering himself to the idea that his relationship would get bet on. 

"Tim, can I marry your sisters?" You come out of the kitchen, eyes sparkling.

"We're dating." He sighs. "Pretty bird—"

"EWWWWWWW" A mixture of faked hurls and gags are heard in unison as Tim rolls his eyes. 

"Ignore them. Why do you want my sisters?"

"The hickeys are all," You pull your shirt down too to show your cleavage, the hickeys no longer visible, "gone! Your sisters are really good at this."

"Yeah..." Tim sighs, reaching to pull your shirt back up. "Steph isn't my sister, by the way."

"Oh, yes, I know." You smile. "After all, if she was, it'd be strange that you've dated her before." 

Tim chokes on the air at your statement.

"Besides, she's my mutual." You hum. "I also got Alfred's recipes, by the way." You hum, smile on your face. "I also got his chocolate chip cookie recipe, though I need to figure out what the secret ingredient is."

"A dash of vanilla extract." Tim lowers his voice. "Don't tell the rest of the family."

"Got it." You give him a thumbs up. 

"Do you cook?" Damian speaks up.

"I do! Mainly ethnic foods, since there isn't much of that here in Gotham." You mumble. "Got any good Chinese places?"

"Oh, there's this place on Seventh Ave and Jester." Bruce speaks up. "I used to get dim sum there. It's only open from eight to twelve, and you need to get in via reservation. Feel free to borrow my name whenever. Just make sure to invite me."

"Uncle Dan's, right?" You beam. "I went there a while back with another friend, but I miss like... the dim sum that's messy and chaotic in the morning."

"Oh, then try the one on Lightbeam." Dick pauses. "Ah, what was the other street?"

"Oh, that one's good." Duke agrees. "Sam Woo's Dim Sum and BBQ."

"I've had that too!" You smile. "They're good, just quite a while from the university."

"If you really want something good," Cass speaks up from behind you, "try Jin."

"Jin?"

"It's smaller, but it's family-run, and it's been doing business in Gotham for three generations already." Cass hums. "They're called Jin, but the Chinese character for gold. They're right by Gotham U too. On the corner by Circle K."

"The sketchy looking alley??" You blink.

"Yes, but their dumplings are to die for." She pauses. "And they sell in bulk if you want to boil any in your dorm."

"Tim, I want your sister."

"Pretty bird, we just started going out." He clicks his tongue. 

"Tim, if you break her heart, I will date her." Cass blinks.

"You can visit her when she stays in mother's mansion."

"Hm?" You turn to blink at Damian.

"Ignore him—"

"Should you and Drake break up, I have already arranged your living arrangements, should you agree to it."

"And what might they be?" You hand the laptop to Tim, pointing at the document you shared with yourself.

"With my mother. Your only job shall be to write poems and short stories to entertain her."

"Living and writing for the Talia Al Ghul? Count me in." You sigh dreamily. 

"Alright." Tim shuts the laptop after changing the password. "We're going to get going before her roommate calls the cops on her."

"Oh, right!" You mumble. "It was a pleasure meeting you all! I hope to see you again sometime?"

"Tim, send her number in the chat later!" Dick calls as Tim pulls you out.

"Sorry, they're quite embarrassing." Tim mumbles.

"They're warm." You smile. "I like it."

"Yeah?"

"Yes." 

Tim sighs in relief at the look of fondness on your face. Right.

You'll be fine.

[skelswritingcorner]

POV: You got kidnapped by Decepticons, and you're also on your period

(If you're wondering if you saw this before, you probably did! Tumblr's just being wonky and didn't show it, so I'm reuploading it)

Cast (of the TF characters): Skywarp, Thundercracker, Shockwave, Megatron, Soundwave, Rumble, Frenzy, Jazz, Prowl, Optimus Prime, Ratchet, Wheeljack, Blaster, and a bit of Lazerbeak at the end

Synopsis: You’re on your period, and took a pretty strong painkiller before you went to class so you could focus without curling into fetal position from the pain. However, you didn’t think that you’d be kidnapped by alien robots. Luckily, you were using a cup. However, the painkiller is starting to wear off while you’re captive, and you’re hoping that you can be saved fast. Ideally, without these alien robots seeing you cough up endometrium.

A/N: I made the heights based more on G1 Transformers. I like the big bois, and g/t (mostly because I’m barely 5'2 but that’s irrelevant), but Rumble does not deserve to be 21 feet tall. He and Frenzy should be tiny menaces. Also, I think the size difference between the reader character and Blaster is more than enough. Also, this isn’t really for any specific Transformers continuity or series, more of my own headcanons if anything. Also, if you want to ask about the reader character, use the name Lorelei. Also, my endometriosis is not in my lungs, I just thought "Hey, do you know what would really fuckin suck?" and gave poor Lorelei endometrium in the lungs.

Word Count: 4.8K

Warnings: Menstruation, Endometriosis, Anatomical words for reproductive organs, Kidnapping, Vulgar Language, mentions of medical neglect.

You woke up dreading the day. According to the tracker, your period starts today, which is bad because the cramps get severe enough that you’d be bedridden if you didn’t have your painkillers, and also because you had class today. College life and all. At least today was Saturday, so it was only one three-hour class.

Going to the bathroom first, you checked your underwear for any signs of blood. There was only a bit of blood, but if you didn’t act quickly the bloodfall would begin. You grabbed one of your menstrual cups, folding it then pushing it in through your vulva. When it was in place, you used some toilet paper to wipe some of the discharge and blood off your fingers, flushed, then washed your hands.

You felt a cough coming up. Grabbing a tissue, you coughed into it. There was a bit of what looked like blood from where you coughed. If this was your first time, you would’ve panicked. However, you knew it was the stupid endometrium in your lungs because of your stupid endometriosis. Better pack some extra tissues, maybe buy some from the convenience store on your way to class.

Going into the shared space, you noticed a bag with a note. Must’ve been one of your roommates. The note had your name on it, so you decided to read it.

Y/N, I got you a snack. You mentioned in the group chat that your period starts today. I don’t know if you’re supposed to eat something with your painkillers, so I got you one of your favorite snacks just in case. Toodles! - Emily

It was chocolate covered pretzels. You took the bag, grabbed a beverage from the fridge and went back to your room to grab your medication before eating. It’s best to take it now, so your cramps don’t get so severe that you end up curled up in fetal position sobbing from pain once it fully starts.

After eating in the common room, you went back to change into your clothes. Fortunately, you didn’t share a room with anyone, so you could change in your room. You picked out an oversized black band tee and blood red sweatpants after putting on a tank top. If you weren’t on your period you would’ve picked something that looked a little cuter or fashionable, you don’t want to ruin those clothes if you need to cough up blood. You don’t know if hydrogen peroxide works that well with the materials.

Besides, most people that know you can easily predict whether or not you woke up feeling good based on how styled you look. If you’re wearing something more styled, with multiple layers and accessories, you’re likely in a more positive mood. If you’re not, either you’re on your period or doing something that requires some dirty work.

You packed your messenger bag with the things you needed: stationary, wallet, charger with power bank, tissues, a plastic zipper bag in case you can’t throw any bloodied tissues at the current moment, a small hammer, the tools that tech people carry, extra menstrual cup in a 3D-printed cube container that requires the opening to be twisted to get to it, a spray bottle of hydrogen peroxide, the usual things.

Luckily for you, all you had was a single class that only lasted two hours today. No rehearsals for the color guard, since the field is still wet from yesterday’s downpour. Maybe you’ll do some sketches after class.

Putting your shoes on, you left your dorm room and walked to your class. You made sure that your dormitory was close to the main campus, given your medical problems. Unlike yesterday, it was a gentle sprinkle of water, so you didn’t rush yourself. Class was in half an hour anyway.

Walking into the lecture hall, there was only one other person. You sat at a seat closest to the door, and turned to the other student. Like clockwork, you both got out your phones, pointed a finger at each other, and took a picture. Neither of you know each other's names, yet the bond is indescribable. Bonding through mutual goofiness without a single word exchanged. After that, a few more classmates came in, and once the clock hit noon the lecture began.

♢♢♢

After class ended, you packed up your things. Before you could get up, someone tapped on your shoulder.

Turning around, you saw one of your classmates with a furrowed brow. “Do you know about the recent sightings of alien robots?”

You shook your head, “I haven’t checked the news.”

“You haven’t heard anything?! They were spotted really close to campus two days ago. It looked like a bird, but obviously no birds nearby are that large! Be careful out there, hopefully nobody gets abducted.” She waved goodbye and sped out the room.

The alien robots are something you’ve heard about only in passing. Your roommates have mentioned them before, one of them took a picture that was so bad in quality you thought it was fake. Why are they going near a college, out of all places? There’s no local government facilities or anything that you think would interest them. Except for the telescope the astronomy majors use. They might be curious about that. It’s not related to your major though, so hopefully they won’t try taking you.

Walking out of the building, you decided to walk around a bit. It was nice, the sun wasn’t too harsh, the drizzle stopped, and there were basically no people around. Your painkiller should last a few more hours, so you have time to chill and walk slowly.

You couldn’t enjoy the scenery for long. You should’ve realized why you didn’t see anyone, not with that giant robot who almost crushed you, and is now looking down at you.

The creature was massive, quadruple your size at the very least. Black, purple, and annoyed.

“Who… are you?” you took a step back, ready to zoom away at any moment. They didn’t answer you, though, only grabbing you. Before you could react, you saw a bright purple light consume your vision, and you closed your eyes so your retinas wouldn’t burn.

♢♢♢

When the light was no longer visible, you were somewhere you didn’t recognize. The walls were metal, and there were more… people? Whatever they were, but they were looking at you. One looked identical to the one holding you, but almost entirely blue. An all-purple robot with a single yellow eye stared down at you, emotionless.

“I found one. I barely saw anyone at the location.” the one holding you said.

“Strange,” the blue one pondered, “shouldn’t there have been more of these squishies at that place?”

You wanted to retort so bad, but you also knew that the moment you start speaking you might cough. And honestly? What goes on in your body is none of their business. It’s Saturday, you thought to yourself, no shit there’s barely anyone there.

“Hey, tiny squishy!” the blue one put his face close to yours, “Tell us how we can access that telescope!”

You sighed in defeat. “I don’t know, I’ve never been to the building it’s in.” Well, that was a half-lie. You have been to the science building, just not the room the telescope was inside of.

“You WHAT?!” Oh, they’re annoyed.

At this point, you were pissed. You wanted to get away before the pain gets you, and you started getting snippy, “I dunno, maybe you should’ve asked before kidnapping me BECAUSE MY MAJOR DOES NOT INVOLVE THE FUCKING TELESCOPE! My major is in tech AND NOT ASTRONOMY!”

There is a cough coming up. Wriggling an arm out from the giant hand grasping you, you coughed into the crook of your elbow. Blood, as per usual during shark week. For you, that is.

“What is that red thing that came out of her intake?!” The blue one’s blood red eyes widened.

“Do we have anyone who knows how to fix organics?” the one holding you asked.

You yelled, “I’M FINE! This is normal for me, at least my painkillers are in effect!”

“Coughing internal liquids is abnormal for any being.” The purple one with the yellow eye spoke. “Thundercracker, inform Lord Megatron at once.”

The blue one ran out of the room. That one was Thundercracker, from what you could tell.

“Put them on the table, Skywarp. I’ll check their systems.” the one with the yellow eye ordered. The hand gripping you plopped you unceremoniously onto the table, leading you to cough yet again.

When you got up, you noticed the blood you coughed up on the table. Guess you gotta clean that. Opening your bag, you got out the hydrogen peroxide spray and a few tissues. It was a familiar procedure; spray the bloodied surface, and then clean it.

“What even is that?” Skywarp asked.

“Hydrogen peroxide. It’s used to clean blood off things, including clothing. I’d use a paper towel, but all I have are tissues.” you replied.

A hand held your face, opening your mouth and pressing your tongue down with their thumb. The one-eyed robot tilted your head up, and observed.

“No anomaly in the intake pipe. Finding the anomaly might require an invasive approach or scans.” they removed their hand from you.

Oh hell no. If this was an OBGYN, you’d be fine with it. However, you are not, and giant robots probing your lungs and uterus and just anywhere inside you is the last thing you want happening.

“Absolutely NOT!” you yelled, “I’m not letting you do that to me! Just bring me back to campus before my painkillers wear off!”

“I don’t think I’ll allow that.” Wait, who the fuck said that?

“Lord Megatron!” Skywarp turned around, bowing down at a gray figure. You could see the red glow of their eyes from where you stood.

“So, this is the one you found. She’s smaller than Soundwave’s cassettes.” Great. Just great. They’re calling you small. “She will do just fine, even if she’s not the one we hoped for.”

“How in Cybertron can this squishy help us if she’s never been to the building that the telescope is in?” Thundercracker asked.

“You. You’re a student of the university, correct?” Megatron asked, looking at you.

“Yes?” you replied, unsure of what the gray robot was going to ask you to do.

“Good, good. Then you should be able to get to it for us.”

Pardon?! “I’m one of the tech majors, if I just walk into the building and go to where the telescope is, the staff will find it suspicious!” you protested, “The only time I’ve even been in the science building is when I was being shown around campus, and we never went into the room that the telescope is inside of! If I’m to go in that room, I’m going to need to explain to the department head as to why I need to go in there.”

“Along with that,” you glared at Megatron, “I want to know exactly why you want access to the telescope.”

Skywarp huffed, “Why would we tell you about that?”

“Because y’all kidnapped me! If you want me to cooperate, you need a damn good explanation.”

“It’s rather simple. If you humans have access to such technology, wouldn’t we be curious about how it works? Such technology would be useful to our cause.” Megatron explained, and you hated the condescending tone he was using. It reminded you of the times you’ve been to the hospital, begging for an answer to all the pain and too-heavy bleeding only to be spoken down to like a toddler. Claiming that what you experienced was normal when it very much was not.

You sighed, “Fine. If you want my assistance, I will only help you if you follow a few basic rules. Do not damage any part of the school campus, try to abduct anyone else, or even think of trying to destroy the telescope. If you violate these rules, I will not help you any further. I will lecture all of you about your behavior without hesitation if you do that.”

“But what if the Autobots start the fight?”

“I’ll lecture them too. Don’t fucking try me.” You countered. It’s been a long time already, you can feel the pain creeping up to a painful level. After grabbing another tissue from your bag, you coughed up more blood.

You need to get back to your dorm soon, if the painkillers fully wear off you don’t know how you can escape.

“Now, I’d like to return to campus before my painkillers wear off. Can you please bring me back?” you tried your best to be polite, but right now you’re starting to get desperate. It must have been an hour at the very least, and you need to get back before you’re paralyzed by pain.

“Not so fast, young lady. We never got your name, and based on what Thundercracker said, I’d rather have you be under supervision.” Megatron turned to the purple robot, “Shockwave, bring her to your lab and prepare the scanners. I’ll leave her in your hands.”

Oh no. Oh no no no no NO. That’s the last thing you want happening.

♢♢♢

A group of Autobots were on the campus, talking to various humans.

“I was looking outside the window during lab. This purple and black robot picked someone up, turned into a purple light and just… disappeared with them!” a tall brunet said, gesturing to the spot the abduction happened.

Prowl frowned. He knew it was Skywarp, no other Decepticon had that ability. He’ll have to inform Optimus Prime once he finished speaking to who he was speaking to.

“Do you know the student who was kidnapped?” Optimus Prime asked the young blonde-haired woman standing in front of him.

“Yes. Y/N L/N is my roommate. I know that today she’s starting her cycle, which for her is incredibly painful. She needs to take pretty intense painkillers so she can function during this. I didn’t see her before I left for work, but I made sure to get her a snack so that she could eat something when she got up before I left.”

“What is that cycle? Is this something that organic life experiences?” He asked.

She tapped on her phone for a bit before looking back up at the Autobot leader, “All animals with a uterus and ovaries have an ovarian cycle, in order to prepare for a potential pregnancy,” she showed the diagram on her phone’s screen, “the uterus creates a lining, which sheds if a pregnancy doesn’t happen in a period called menstruation, or just a period, for humans. This lining is called endometrium. This lining, however, can end up outside the uterus, and in rare cases can go all the way up to the brain. This is called endometriosis, and is what Y/N has and what causes her the intense pain.”

“For her, there is endometrium in her lungs. She coughs it out during her period sometimes.”

Ratchet approached the two. “You mention that, and earlier the painkiller she takes. How long ago was that?”

The woman checked the time, “About five hours ago, based on the time she usually wakes up on this day of the week.”

“And when does it wear off?”

She paused. “After six hours, she’s back to regular unmedicated pain.”

Optimus got up. “Thank you, Miss Emily. We will find her as soon as we can.”

“Can I come with you? I don’t know how willing Y/N is going to be while she’s in pain around strangers.” Emily asked, “I’ll do my best to stay out of danger, and keep close.”

Ratchet grimaced, “It’s going to be dangerous. I doubt we have any weapons that you can use, if you can even hold them.”

“I understand your sentiment, old friend. However, she has a point. I doubt that Y/N will be pleased to have more Cybertronians trying to take her. Especially if she’s in terrible pain.”

Sighing in defeat, Ratchet turned to Emily, “Fine. We’ll bring her along.”

♢♢♢

Before you could protest, Shockwave grabbed you and started walking away. You thrashed in his hand, trying to wriggle out to run away and hide. Your efforts, however, bore no fruit, and only made Shockwave hold you tighter.

He put you in some kind of container, too tall for you to climb out.

“Soundwave, can you come to my lab with Rumble and Frenzy? Lord Megatron requested me to do scans of the human Skywarp found. She’s being difficult, I need those two to restrain her so I can do the scans without her attempting an escape.”

“Understood.” a voice was heard, likely coming from Shockwave.

After some time, a cobalt blue figure walked into the lab. They were the same size as Shockwave. Two significantly smaller figures followed them in tow; one purple, one black.

“So,” the blue one looked at you, “this is the human?”

“Yes.” Shockwave replied, grabbing you and putting you on some kind of table. They removed your bag, so you couldn’t grab a hammer and thwack anyone even if you tried.

“Rumble, Frenzy, restrain the human so we can do the scans.” The blue one ordered. The small figures jumped onto the table, grabbing your limbs and pushing them into the table. Honestly? That’s pretty painful. You tried to fight, kick, anything, but their grip was unrelenting.

“Stop wiggling, fleshy!” one of them tightened their grip.

Some kind of scanner descended to your chest, stopping a few centimeters above you. It whirred to life, and a red light shone onto your chest. It shifted around, scanning from your chest to your pelvis. After a few minutes, the light turned off.

“Peculiar.” Shockwave stated.

“Is this what human internals look like? How strange.” The cobalt one tilted their head, then looked at you.

“Rumble, Frenzy, release.” They ordered, and the two robots holding you by the limbs released you. However, you couldn’t run, as Shockwave grabbed you. The change from laying down to being vertical made you feel the menstrual blood leak out of your cervix, sending shivers down your spine.

“Do you even know what you’re trying to look for? There’s nothing that you can base it on!” you yelled.

“Intuition.” Shockwave rebutted, putting you back in the container. Jarred once again.

The pain creeps up once more. The whole restraining debacle distracted you for some time, but now you realized that the medication is almost out. In a few minutes, you’ll be in fetal position from the pain. Even breathing is a struggle.

Alarms.

“Autobots infiltrated the base, I repeat, Autobots have infiltrated the base.” the announcement rang.

Shockwave and the others left, leaving you alone. This was your chance. Opening up your bag, you grabbed a hammer. Can you even break the glass? Might as well find out.

Walking to one of the corners, you slammed the hammer. A crack formed, and you continued to slam and slam and slam until a large enough opening was made. You walked out of it after putting your hammer away. After going to the side opposite the hole, you dropped and rolled onto the floor. It was time to run and find a small enough place to hide.

You ran out of the lab, zooming through the halls to find somewhere small. Somewhere you could fit and they could not. After a few minutes of running, you found a small slit in the wall that you could just barely squeeze into, so you went in it. It took some time, and your chest especially was squashed, but the slit went to a tiny area, where the slit was the only exit. Curling up into a corner, you waited. The slit is too short for the two who restrained you to fit anyway.

You heard fighting and yelling approaching you. From where you were, they couldn’t see you. After a bit of time, it quieted down.

Voices.

“We haven’t seen the missing person at all. Where could she be, Prowl?” one asked.

“Who knows? Y/N might be trapped somewhere.”

They know your name. Why do they know your name? You didn’t tell any of them your name.

Unless… they’re a rescue party? Moving was a struggle for you, the pain was getting too much. You doubt you could speak right now either.

“Wait. That tear in the wall. Could she be in there?” the voice pondered, getting closer to where you were.

“I’m checkin’ it. Emily’s with Blaster ‘n’ Wheeljack, right? If Y/N’s here, contact them.”

They know Emily? Your roommate? Well, that complicates things.

A large black finger entered the slit, widening it just a tiny bit. “Hey! Are you in there?” they asked. All you could do is whimper in reply.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you out of here!” they promised.

“Jazz, I contacted them. They should arrive in a moment.”

More footsteps.

“We’re here!” a familiar voice trilled. They are indeed talking about that Emily, the one who is your roommate. Both of you are enrolled in the university’s STEM program, so you have a few classes together. You’re both part of the color guard as well, which is pretty well known for the futuristic masks that the marching band wears as well.

“Do you think you can fit through that? I mean, Jazz, he made it bigger, but it still looks small.” An unfamiliar voice asked.

“If Y/N can fit it, I can.” Emily said, and you heard her step in through the slit.

“That bad?” Emily asked. You turned to her and gave her the stink eye.

“Hey! STEM girlies gotta stick together, y’know? Stop giving me that look.” Emily retorted.

She took out your painkillers from her bag. “I hope yain’t mad about me yoinking your painkillers, I knew that by the time you were found the meds would’ve fully worn off and you’d need to take them again. Here,” she gave you the bottle. You did your best to remove the lid, took one, and swallowed it dry. Ideally, you would’ve had something to drink since it tastes absolutely horrible, but eh.

You put your painkiller bottle in your bag. Emily grabbed you by the waist, hoisting you up to your feet, “C’mon, up at it. Let’s get back.” Both of you walked toward the slit, and left the hiding spot.

There were four of the alien robots. They all had blue eyes, unlike the ones who abducted you.

“Prime, we got ‘er!” The one with a blue visor and black hands said. “We’re gonna get ‘em back now.”

“I’ll hold them.” A red robot said.

Emily introduced them, “The red one’s Blaster, the one with the two trapezoids where his ears should be is Wheeljack, the cop car lookin’ guy with the red eyebrows is Prowl, and the one with the visor is Jazz. They’re all good dudes, even if Prowl’s grumpier than my pawpaw.”

“Don’t call me old.” Prowl growled.

“How old are you again? You’re a peepaw in my eyes.” you could hear Emily’s smirk, it made you chuckle.

“At least she sounds better!” Jazz jokes, “At Prowl’s expense, that is.”

“Shockwave’s lab is nearby. I’ll catch up to all of you later, I think there’s something there that might be useful.” Wheeljack stated.

“Alright. Don’t get killed, Wheeljack.” Prowl ordered, and Wheeljack ran to the lab you escaped from.

Blaster brought a hand to you and Emily, “Well? Hop on, I won’t bite.” Emily brought you to his hand, and he brought you to one of his shoulders and put Emily on the one opposite you.

“Let’s go.” And so, the five of you left. You gripped onto one of Blaster’s neck cables, mostly for reassurance on your part. The bouncing of Blaster zooming made you bounce a little bit, but you knew he was trying not to make you two bounce too much.

♢♢♢

After you got on the small ship, you were met with a few other of the Autobots. The tallest of them was red and blue, with windows on his chest. Next to him was a mostly white with orangish red accents.

“Good, you found her.” The blue one said, smiling.

“Optimus, should I look at her? They might’ve injured her.” The red and white one asked. You coughed into your elbow again, and let go of Blaster’s neck cable.

“Y/N’s not injured from what I can tell, Ratchet. I was able to give her the painkiller.” Emily told the Autobot.

“Which tastes AWFUL.” you added.

“Right. I forgor, sowwy.” and now Emily is UwUing. Great. That’s usually reserved for when color guard practice happens, or when she pops into the band room to bring you and the other brass members some cursed snack that the store she works at sells. Usually with some kind of beverage for you. Emily may be cursed, but she’s an awesome friend and roommate. You remember the time she recorded you and several other brass members doing a reenactment of I Want It That Way by the Backstreet Boys. She’s a champ when she wants to be.

“Well, since you coughed up some endometrium, I’m going to take a little sample.” Ratchet grabbed some kind of scalpel, grasping your arm and using it to scrape some of that sweet sweet lung endometrium.

“I’ll ask Perceptor to look at it.” Ratchet walked away.

“Where’s Wheeljack?” Optimus asked.

“Went to look in Shockwave’s lab, I think he should be here around…”

The doors opened, and footsteps ran inside and the door closed.

“Now.” Prowl finished.

“Wheeljack, what did you find?” Optimus asked, with everyone turning to the Autobot.

“Well, there was a clear container that was broken in the corner. Guess that’s where Y/N was put. Along with that,” he showed a hologram, likely the result of the scans, “I noticed this on the screen.”

Optimus approached, looking at it. “Show this to Ratchet once he gets back.”

“We should bring these two back. I’ll inform the authorities that Y/N was found, and has sustained no injuries.” Optimus ordered.

“Jazz, navigate the ship to the university.” Optimus ordered, letting Jazz leave to the cockpit.

After a few more orders, and Blaster placing you and Emily down on the floor, the both of you were left with Prowl.

“Miss L/N, I have a question for you.”

“What’s the question?” you asked.

“Is there any way to reduce the pain, or how long it lasts without your medication?” Prowl asked.

You’d answer, but that involves telling Prowl about sex. And, to be perfectly honest, fucking anyone you barely know is a turn-off to you, especially a giant alien robot that is literally thrice your size. You do not feel fuckable right now, try again later when you’re not bleeding from the cervix and lungs my dude. Do they even have penises? Well, they could use their fingers… No, don’t be horny, Y/N. Are you still ovulating? That likely explains the fact that you actually considered explaining sex and possibly… let’s stop that thought.

“Well, heat can help a little bit.” Good save, Emily. Good save. “It all depends on the person, though.”

“Also, Jazz and Blaster wanted me to ask you this, but what is this… trombone suicide thing Emily mentioned?” Ah. Emily snitched to Prowl.

“It’s a very complex move involving multiple brass instruments, usually trumpets or trombones. If you turn the wrong way, you’ll either bonk trombones or smack your fellow brassist in the face. There’s also the trumpet suicide, sousaphone suicide, and I’m trying to figure out how to do it for the color guard. Also, you’re playing the instrument while doing this.” you explained.

Prowl sighed, most likely in relief, “It isn’t literal, at the very least. That’s a relief.”

After a few more questions, and fortunately sex did not come up during that time, Optimus came back.

“We’ve arrived, let’s get these two back.” Optimus announced.

Walking with him and Prowl, you got tackled by one of your band mates. A good chunk of the brass section and color guard were there.

“Glad you’re back, Y/N!” the one who tackled you said, helping you get up.

After some time, and a little bit of discussion, you and Emily left to go back to the dorm with the others. The sun was setting, and the events of today left you tired and having menstrual munchies. Hopefully you won’t have to deal with the alien robots again.

A mechanical bird observed from a lamppost, watching the two figures enter the building. Even though the Decepticons failed to keep the student from the Autobots, there was still an opportunity to use her. Once they were fully gone, the black and red robot flew away.