TFES AU where Rumble lives! (Writing + Art)
In Transformers Earthspark there’s a singular throw away line about Rumble exploding because SoundWave tried to transform when low on Energon after a fight. And that’s a shame, personally I believe they did that so they wouldn’t have to have another character to animate. Either way. There’s the story of how Rumble survived
Side note- SoundWave has telepathy, why? Because it’s f u n. Also, WARNING FOR ROBO GORE IN PHOTOS AND DESCRIPTION
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Wood cracked and snapped as dark grey servos’s slammed a yellow autobot scout’s head against a mature oak.
“You’re supposed to be offline”, Sound’s gravelly voice echoed like the caw of a crow in Bumblebee’s processor as the yellow mechs optics flickered from the impact.
“Guess you can say I got better!”, Bumblebee shouted as his own servo shot out, his digits wrapped around a thick branch. With one solid motion he tore the branch from the main body and crashed it straight into the side of SoundWaves head.
Soundwave reeled back and a sonic screech left his speakers. Pain throbbed like a hot iron through SoundWaves helm. His servo came up to his long audial as he left something warm drip onto his shoulder, energon.
“Soundwave!”, Rumble shouted out in a panic as she scrambled for her electric keyboard that lay abandoned in the bramble that seemed to swallow it like it had just been waiting for the moment to inconvenience her.
This day had all gone wrong. Frenzy, LaserBreak, Ravange, and SoundWave were all low on Energon. SoundWave told the three to stay at their little hideout while he and Rumble went out to try to find where their sensors had been picking up nearby Energon traces. Unfortunately for Rumble, SoundWave stumbled across the thought to be dead Bumblebee who was very much alive and well.
“I told you this was a horrible idea!”, Rumble cried out at SoundWave who had recovered from being hindered and was going back and forth with the autobot scout.
“Shut up, I can handle this”, SoundWave shot back at the small femme whose metallic arms were digging her keyboard out of the thorns, scratching her arms up in the process.
With one final stretch Rumbles digits wrapped around the strap and yanked it out with all of her force, causing her to shot back and landed on her back. Scrambling to her feet she immediately pointed the blaster end at Bumblebee who had just dodged out out her fathers sonic blast that came from his hand.
Rumble didn’t even think, she just did. Her digits glided over the keys and she began riffing. Each key press strengthened the shot that was building up before she shot. The blast shot made direct contact with Bumblebee’s neck which caused him to stagger back and wince. Soundwave immediately took the opportunity and uppercut the distracted scout.
Bumblebee let out a strangled cry as he felt a heavy pede crush down on his chest, the metal hood on his chest cracking. “W-we don’t have to fight- I’m not with G-“. His reasoning was cut short by more pressure being applied to his chest. Bumblebee’s optics refocused and suddenly there was a palm infront of his face with sonic energy building up.
The yellow scout closed his optics tightly as the weapon, his stinger slid out of his arm compartment. Where was the ear-twisting sound of metal slicing metal before SoundWave stumbled back, a huge gash now in his lower thigh, painting the off-white paneling bright pink.
Bumblebee moved to thrust the stinger into SoundWave’s lower abdomen but suddenly he felt a fury of weak blasts on his side.
“N-NO! STOP! GET AWAY FROM HIM!”, Frenzy sobbed out as her fingers clumsily pressed the key’s, physically unable to form the powerful combo’s she once was sure she knew by spark. She couldn’t let her father die. No, not after everything he’d done for her and Frenzy. Not after he took them in after they were found frozen in long forgotten stasis pods.
Slowly the autobot crawled a bit away from the decepticon fugitive and Frenzy, his optics wide in conflicting. Bumblebee’s processor whirled at the choice to continue or to spare. Soundwave was hurt. This was his chance! It would surely make Optimus proud and prove himself after his fumble… but the war was over, Bumblebee firmly reminded himself. There had to be no more unnecessary death.
Suddenly the sound of approaching helicopters roared out in the sky. The figure of G.H.O.S.T copters loomed in the horizon.
“Slag, they must’ve heard us”, Bumblebee murmurs in a panic as he held his chest plate and got to his pede’s. The soreness already starting to leach into his every movement.
“Why are you worried?”, SoundWave sharply asked through the scouts mind as he stumbled towards a tree, using it to support his weight as Energon trailed behind him.
“Because I’m not with G.H.O.S.T! That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you! Why do you think I’ve been staying low?!”, Bumblebee anxiously shouted at the blue decepticon as his optics remained locked with the shadows on the horizon.
SoundWave’s optics widened behind his visor at that realization, they both were in deep trouble now. His optics flicked down to his leg as he felt something touching it. It was Rumble who was desperately applying an Energon coagulant to the wound which was slowing the gush down to a mere trickle.
Soundwave scooped her up in his servos and ordered through his link with her, “cassette, now”.
As Frenzy obediently transformed he immediately safely stored her in his chest cavity. Soundwave took a starting run, ignoring the throbbing pain in his thigh before trying to transform.
His body refused.
He tried again. His plates shifted but failed. Warning symbols popped up on his hub, his Energon levels were too low to safely transform so his frame automatically stopped the process… he manually overrode it.
SoundWave’s plates began shifting and sliding in all the wrong directions. His arms went all in the wrong order then they were supposed to. Panic prickled up in his system as he tried to stop it, but his body kept going. Suddenly there was a sickening crack and crush as part of his arm unrelentingly pressed into something, but it wasn’t his body that was cracking. He felt no pain as his parts slowly shifted back into place.
“…. Rumble?”, SoundWaves real voice slowly asked, rough from lack of use… there was no response.
Immediately she force started his body to transform out of its alt mode, energon that wasn’t his own leaking he between his his plates as he came to the horrific realization of what happened.
Soundwave collapsed to his knees and struggled to get his tape hatch to open. His digits clumsy in his panic. The hatch popped open and a small form tumbled into his hands.
Pink Energon costed his servo before he could even register it. Rumble’s face was half torn off, her pink visor halfway gone with it. Her arm was was completely torn off, taking a chunk of her torso with it. He could feel her ripped off parts inside his frame, pressing against his own innards. It was inside of him. He had done this.
“S…Soundwave?”, a choked voice echoed from Rumbles vocalizer. Her once bright pink optic was a dull glow now, her optic lazily starting at him as Energon bubbled from her nose.
“No- no- don’t talk, SweetSpark. I’m here, your sire is here. You’re going to be okay. J-just keep your optics online. Please.”, SoundWave couldn’t stop the desperation in his voice. He didn’t care anymore, his baby was hurt.
A gargle came from Rumbles throat as the energon nose her nose turned into a river, streaming down her lips and chin.
“I-It hurts”, she tried to say as dark spots freckled her vision, barely even aware of the fact that SoundWave was using his physical voice to comfort her.
“Shh- it’s okay, it’s okay. Just- just”, SoundWave felt moister building behind his visor for the first time in centuries. He stared at her butchered frame, his own optics struggling to focus on anything but the femme he raised since she and Frenzy were a small sparkling.
“Just keep your optics on- Rumble?… Rumble?!”., SoundWave shouted as he felt something in his spark shrivel. His hands trembling around her dying frame as her optics starting loosing their already dull glow. Then suddenly, she was still.
The helicopters were getting closer, their sound temporarily capturing SoundWave’s attention. His visor turned to the sky, blurry from the tears now dripping into his mask. G.H.O.S.T was coming.
His optics glanced at Bumblebee, he looked sick with horror. His optics shrunken into pricks and his jaw agape. His doorwings were even stiff with anxiety as he watched the scene
SoundWave’s mask clicked back, revealing his scarred lips, destroyed by a violent blast to the face. “I’m so sorry… my darling girl.”, SoundWave whispered as he held back a sob. As his final act of love he gently pressed his lips to her forehead. Would her spark find its way back to Cybertron? Or was she stuck on this hell planet just like she was in life.
Gently he laid her amongst the soft grass, it cradling her body and slowly turning pink from her energon. He couldn’t take her with him. Her energon would leave a trail back to where the others were hiding and doom them all… he had to keep the rest of his family safe. Even if it broke his spark to leave her in the woods.
With shaky servos he took her visor, a reminder to himself to never make the same mistake again, and a remembrance item.
Soundwave felt his spark screaming as he stood up, he wanted to hold her a little longer. To prey to Primus if he was even real to spare his youngling… but no. He bolted, he bolted into the woods, away from the pain he’s caused and from G.H.O.S.T.
Bumblebee slowly approached the offline body. G.H.O.S.T was nearly here but it felt… wrong to leave a body out in the open. Especially that of a youngling, even if it was an older youngling.
He reached his servo out to wipe away the energon when he noticed something. From the huge open tear he saw some light. Rumbles spark dully burned in her spark chamber, like the last ember of a fire. It had condensed itself into a tight orb, keeping itself alive when the body was heavily injured.
Without another thought he scooped Rumble up into his arms, he wasn’t going to let someone die on his watch. Screw what Optimus thinks. Bumblebee was an autobot, not a G.H.O.S.T agent.
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Might add onto this AU later! And post a reference for the Rumble design.
TL;DR- SoundWave picks a fight with Bumblebee while weak. Ghost comes and makes SoundWave run. SoundWave tries to transform with Rumble in his chest and accidentally crushes her. Soundwave leaves frenzy thinking she’s dead, Bumblebee takes her in when he realizes she didn’t dead.
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HEY THERE, CITY BOY
ghostface!joel miller x dad!male reader
genre: neighbor joel, no outbreak au, explicit, minors dni
summary: joel’s possessive/dark side comes out after finding out your going out on a date
warnings:strong language, threatening, dark!joel, possessive!joel, stalking, forced cuckhold, dacryphilia, face fucking, infidelity, knife play (knife gets put to your throat), joel is 40, reader is 38, unprotected P in A, dirty talk, oral (m giving), pet names,, creampies
word count: 4.1k
a/n: how this idea came to life was i was watching like ten minutes of scream and i texted @morallyinept about it and here I am. Hope you guys like it!, dividers by @saradika also HAPPY HALLOWEEN
October 23rd Austin, Texas Miller Residence
Marigold and Sarah were in Sarah’s room, conversing with one another in her bedroom, snacking away on various sweets and chips—typical high school girl conversations: classes, tests, drama, boys — and eventually family members.
Joel had passed Sarah’s room, hearing the hushed whispers from the two teenage girls in his daughter's bedroom. Joel had no interest in learning about what Kelsie said to Anthony or why Johnny and Matthew fought in the cafeteria. But he was interested in what Marigold knew about her father — his city boy.
He tried to keep the floor from whining under his foot as he pressed his ear against Sarah’s bedroom door. Joel knew this broke the privacy/boundaries rule, but he was eager to learn what was happening with you.
“So… anything new with your dad? Is he still seeing that guy?” Sarah asked, chewing on a gummy worm.
“I notice my dad’s happier. It’s adorable, ever since he broke up with that one guy, my dad deserves the distraction from work and the real world,” Marigold explains.
“Supposedly, they’re supposed to go out on the thirty-first.”
“Ironic, it's a spooky season, and they’re going out that day specifically?” Sarah asks.
Marigold shrugs and chuckles. “That’s my dad for ya’ always gotta have fun with dates.”
Sarah laughs. But Joel was seething behind Sarah’s door, that his anger could make Sarah’s door burst. He hated seeing you with anyone else — especially finding out that you were happy and Joel wasn't the reason why it made him want to explode.
But Joel had a better idea.
October 25th Austin, Texas Your Living Room
You had finished work at the bakery today — finished a lot of orders, and you just wanted to lounge around the living room. You realized you were home when you noticed how scary-quiet the house was when you first walked in. You guessed that Marigold must be hanging out with Sarah — hence the quiet atmosphere in your house. You shrug your shoulders and grab the TV remote on the coffee table. Turning the TV on and just browsing until you found a show you liked.
Your mind wandered off to Joel, and you hated yourself for thinking about him. You broke up with him because all the hiding and lying became too much for you to handle. It constantly stressed you out, so you did the mature thing and broke it off. You shook your head from any thoughts of Joel and focused on the luminescent screen before you.
Hearing your phone ring in your pocket made you roll your eyes. Muting the TV, digging your phone out of your pocket, and seeing the caller ID read 'UNKNOWN' made you uneasy. "If anything from the city taught you anything, never answer the unknown numbers. Could be robo calls." You mutter.
Hitting the decline button and throwing on the cushion next to you. You kept your concentration on the TV and tried to ignore the outside world.
Ring, Ring
Hearing your phone ring made you groan. "Mare, this better be you." Seeing the same ID reading 'UNKNOWN' this time, you swallowed that uneasy feeling and hit the accept button, bringing the phone next to your ear. "Hello," You spoke.
"Hello." You heard a voice you'd never heard before. It sounded gravelly and hoarse at the same time. Made your body feel cold the second you heard it. "Hello?" It came out more like a question than a statement.
"Who is this?"
"Oh, you might just have the wrong number then." You completely disregarded their question.
"Maybe. Sorry to waste your time."
"I get it. Maybe you were in a rush? It happens to me all the time as well," You dismiss.
"S' my fault. I was trying to dial a number from memory. Musta’ typed the wrong numbers in different places."
You start chuckling at his confession. "Sorry, that was rude to laugh at that."
"S'fine, your laugh is cute." You blush at his statement.
"Um, anyway, I'll let you go now —" You start.
"Wait. I wanna keep talkin' to you." The voice admits.
"Really? I think the other person's waiting for you to call them back.”
“I wanna keep hearin’ your voice.”
“How come? It’s not the most attractive thing I ever heard.”
“Cause I want to know what your voice sounds like when your throat’s been slit.”
Hearing that confession made your skin get cold — goosebumps traveling you, your hands clammy, your body felt heavy. It felt like time shut down. You quickly hung up the phone and breathed as if your life depended on it as you looked at your idle phone lying on the cushion.
“Who —breath— the hell —breath— was that?”
October 27th Austin, Texas Your Kitchen/Bedroom
Your ex-wife had come to visit you and Marigold, and Marigold was ecstatic. You’d decided to make dinner for both girls in your life. You hadn't heard from the creepy voice in a day, and you relived thinking it was all some stupid prank played by some teenager who somehow got a hold of your number.
As you’d finished making the dish and making plates for your two girls, you heard your phone ring on the table. “Hey, Dad. Someone’s calling you. Want me to answer it?”
“Uh. I got it. Let me put this pan back on the stove,” You shouted. Placing the pan back on the now-off-stovetop, wipe your hands on your clothes as you jog to grab your phone. Holding your phone, you feel your heart sink as the caller ID reads ‘UNKNOWN’ again.
You wanted to throw your phone, Bury it — hell, burn it. But you didn't want to draw attention to yourself. “It’s no one important.” You smirk and shove your phone in your pocket — declining the call.
Settling with your plate on the table, you are ready to dig in, but that's when you hear your ringtone muffled in your pocket. Your ex and Marigold hear it, too.
“Dad, it seems important if they had called you again — answer it,” Marigold nods.
You didn't want your daughter to witness fear in her father’s eyes. You didn't wish Marigold to be in fear for seeing the worry running all over your face. You didn't want to answer the phone but already knew they were persistent.
“Okay,” You breathed, shakily — trying to hide it.
You stood up from your seat, pecked your lips on Marigold’s forehead, and walked towards your bedroom — answering the phone and pressing it to your ear.
“Hey there, city boy. I was gettin’ impatient.”
“What do you want from me? Threaten me some more?” You questioned.
“I didn't know you swung that way. Do you get turned on by someone threatenin’ you?”
“Shut the fuck up,” You spat. “What do you want from me?”
“You should watch your tone if you're a father; how would your daughter react, knowing er’ father has a sailor's mouth?”
“You know nothing about me,” You seethed. You were making a fist with your free hand — so hard you could draw blood with your nails. “I’m done talking to you, goodbye.”
“If you hang up, I swear I will bust down that door and slash your daughters and wife’s throats and gut them like the fish they are.”
His threat made all the color drain from your body; your knees were wobbly — your throat felt clogged — and the ability to breathe became impossible. You felt powerless when you heard your daughter and ex-wife were in danger.
“Oh, what happened?” The voice mockingly cooed. “All bark but no bite?” He knew his threat made you feel powerless — weak.
“Fuck you, you want me motherfucker? Come and get me,” You snapped, ending the phone call and throwing your phone on the bed, shaking your head to get rid of the anger seething through your body.
Once you finally calmed down, you walked towards the kitchen, seeing the two best people to make your anger finally sizzle away.
“You guys talked about me while I’m gone?”
“Yeah, Mare was just telling me that you met someone new. Tell us about him.”
October 31st Austin, Texas Your Bedroom/Living Room
You were currently pacing back and forth in a white tank top, your boxers and your socks being calf height. Your phone is propped up against your dresser as your best friend, Jett, watches you pace.
“You’re annoying me with all that pacing,” Jett comments. You rub a hand down your face in an attempt to calm yourself down. “Better, now?” Jett asks.
“Nope,” You state, pacing again.
“You're stressing yourself out for nothing; he’ll like you. What’s the big deal?” Jett shrugs.
“It's because I’ve never gone out on a date since I came out. So I’m just nervous as all hell. Should I tell him I’m sick? I’m going to tell him I’m sick.” You nod, grabbing your phone, but Jett’s voice bellows through the phone, shouting protests.
“If you as so much as cancel on him, I will waste my tank of gas and smack the shit out of you and then leave.”
“You live an hour away,” You commented.
“And? What’s the issue?”
You shake your head. “Look,” You start, placing your phone back in its original place. “We’ve hung out before — and that’s all it’s been, hanging out, but I feel like I could blow this whole thing up.
“If I could smack some sense into you through this phone, I would,” Jett spoke.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” You smirk, crossing your arms.
“If a guy goes through all this trouble to finally stop just using you for sex and actually wants to be in a committed relationship with you, what does that insinuate?”
“He’s desperate because no other man was willing to give it up that easy? You shrug.
Jett slides a hand down her face in annoyance, hearing her best friend. "It means he's genuinely interested in you, dummy. Allow him to show his vulnerability.”
“Who are you, and what have you done to my best friend?” You ask.
Jett rolls her eyes and flips her middle finger at you.” “Fuck off,” She chuckles. "When is he coming?"
You shrug. "He said that he would be here —" You started. You heard the doorbell go off downstairs. "Who's that?" Jett questioned.
"Lemme go see. Talk to you later, Jett."
"Bye," Jett states, hanging the phone up. Walking out to your living room, you felt anxious. This pit in your stomach rose to your throat as you walked downstairs. Then your thoughts rose back when you thought about the unknown caller.
You were freaking out if he was on the other side of the door, waiting for you — like predators do to their prey and waiting for the opportunity to pounce.
As you stood in front of the wooden door before you, your breath started to shudder. Gripping the doorknob made the feeling of breathing — unbearable.
Somehow getting enough oxygen in your lungs and pushing out carbon dioxide, you twist the knob and pull the door towards you. You push a breath of air as you notice your date, Hugo. You could feel your muscles lose their tension as your hand was the door.
Hugo had auburn hair matching his full auburn beard. He wore the same brown bomber jacket when you first met him, wearing blue jeans and black boots. You smiled when you noticed the smile riding his face. "Hey, I thought you weren't going to be here until 7," You shrugged.
"I wanted to surprise you. Did I come too early?" Hugo asks.
"Well, you never do that," You start, and Hugo chortles. "But, I was stressing about this whole night. Never been on a date before."
"Never?" Hugo asks.
"Well, in the sense of with another man. I guess I was questioning if you actually liked me," You confessed.
Hugo stepped closer to you — towering over you with his height. In one swoop, he manages to lift you up — wrapping your legs around his waist, you chuckle. Walking into your living room, Hugo closes the door with his foot. Hearing the door slam made you feel like a teenager in love.
Your lips made contact with his as your hands traveled through his hair. His hands were on your waist like a puzzle piece — perfectly placed into shape. Hugo lays you down on the couch; his body melts through your tank top.
His kisses trail down your neck like a spider crawling down your skin. His mustache tickles your neck — making goosebumps travel down your body. You grab his face and bring your lips back onto yours — tangled together, lips trying to connect but can't find the exact shape. With each kiss, it gets more passionate — intense, fireworks exploding inside your brain.
As you wrapped your hand in the strands of his hair, his hands slid from your waist onto the inner bend of your knee, holding your leg, driving his hard-covered cock into yours.
Your mind drifted away from Hugo, and you thought of Joel. How he would have one hand on your throat and the other on your leg would be lifted just like this. You hated that you thought of him, in this moment, with someone you moved on from.
“Wait, Hugo,” You breathed.
Hugo backs away from you, sitting up. Watching you breathe heavily on your back. “Are you okay?”
You nod as you feel the cotton under your head. “Yeah. Just lemme find something to wear.” You fix your position so that you're sitting next to Hugo.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what? I understand. You want to save the best for last,” Hugo winks, and you chuckle. You stand up, and you walk up the stairs towards your bedroom. Opening the door and closing it behind you, you lean on the door and manage to catch your breath. Hugo was your future. Why were you thinking about your past with Joel? You hated that Joel infiltrated your mind like a bad memory.
Closing your eyes and trying to collect your thoughts as you thought about Joel. Your phone rang, and you opened your eyes, exhaled a long breath, grabbed your phone, and hit the green answer button reflectively.
“Hello there, city boy.”
You noticed that their tone sounded angry, frustrated, and pissed. It made you feel have the memory of being a kid scolded by a parent.
“Hello?” You shrugged.
“Your such a fuckin’ whore, you know that?”
“Thanks, I guess. Where is this coming from?” You questioned.
“You’ll find out soon enough, baby boy. Trust me.”
The phone line went dead. You looked at your phone in confusion and disbelief. Ultimately, you ignored those feelings as you shoved your headphones and blasted music into your ears as you glanced around your closet, trying to find an outfit.
October 31st Austin, Texas Living Room
As you walked down the stairs, you felt chipper and happy. As the music drowned your ears earlier, you forgot about the voice and Joel altogether. “Okay, Hugo. Are you ready to have the best date ever or—”
“Oh my god!” You exclaimed—the sight before you shook you to your core. Seeing Hugo beat up, bruises littering his face and neck, and cuts all around his body as If he looks like a cutting board. His arms and legs are tied to a chair in your kitchen and placed in the middle of the living room like a trophy, and a piece of duct tape covers his lips.
You cup your hands over your mouth and immediately rush to Hugo’s aid. You kneel in front of him, trying to untie his restraints. “I’m sorry I didn't hear you, Hugo. I was playing music — fuckin’ Mare introducing me to alternative music.”
Hugo was saying something under the tape, but you couldn't understand what he was saying. You glanced up at him. You can see his eyes almost pop out of your head — he was trying to warn you, but you couldn't tell what was happening.
“Shh, I promise you’ll be okay. You have nothing to worry —”
Your head immediately jerked back as a firm grip was on your hair as you were being dragged away from Hugo. You can hear muffled protest through the tape. You tried to fight back — smack the grip in your locks but ended up feeling a cut on your knuckle.
Feeling the pulling stop, you tried to crawl away, but the grip was still tight as the hand made you stay upright on your knees. You see a shiny object in the corner of your eye. From looking at Hugo, you can see the fear in his eyes.
In your field of view, you see a large hunting knife near your eye as the figure taunts you. Placing the knife near your throat — terrifying Hugo. “You know, I really shouldn't enjoy how much this turns me on, city boy; seein’ this asshole tied up as you're forced on your knees does it for me — more than I should admit.”
“You're a fucking sicko,” You spat.
You hiss as you feel the blade press up against your neck deeper, cutting slight skin tissue. “Careful what you say. One wrong move, and I could cut that pretty throat.”
You could see Hugo seeth with anger. He kept bouncing in the chair like a bull when it saw red. “Oh, asshole doesn't like it when I threaten his boy — oh, sorry. My boy.”
“Maybe we should give im’ a show, city boy. Turn around, or I'll cut your throat.” You take a breath as you slowly turn around on your knees and see the face of the voice that’s been tormenting you for the past couple of days — the mask of the voice.
White plastic with elongated eyes and a long elongated mouth, the sight made your stomach churn as he held up a knife to your throat. With his other free hand, he slips the bottom half of the long cloak he was wearing down, and you see his hardened cock flop out. You felt bile rise to your throat as you looked at the eyes of the mask.
“Suck.” That was all you heard before you wrapped your mouth around the tip. Your mouth slowly kept going back and forth as you heard grunts from the voice above you. You wanted to get this over with. You didn't know what this person’s intentions were after you were done, but you hoped you and Hugo would be alive at the end.
“C’mon. That’s how you suck? I’m gettin’ bored.”
His free hand grabs your hair as he thrusts his hips towards you. With each thrust, you could feel the cock in your mouth twitch, causing your throat to gag and tears start to fall from your eyes. “Oh baby, that’s a sight; you look so perfect with your tears slidin’ down your face.” His thrusts became more animal-like and more of your tears kept slipping down your face as more gags escaped your throat.
“Baby, I could shoot my cum in that throat right now,” He starts. He pulls your face away from his cock as you take a deep breath and start coughing — catching your breath. “But I’d rather cum in that pretty ass of yours,” He states, grabbing your chin. In one motion, he causes you to turn away from him and make you land on your hands. You glance up at Hugo, and you notice his eyes read, ‘I'm sorry, there’s nothing I can do,’ it makes your heart tear a bit.
No warning, you feel your pants slide from your ass, and his cock slip inside you, and you scream in pleasure, but it sounds like a pain to you. His thrusts were quick, rough, and something you missed when you were Hugo. You couldn't tell if you loved or hated this feeling as much as you denied it was happening. “Damn, baby. You're so fuckin’ tight. He might not fuck as good as I do.”
“Fuck off,” You pant. A hard yank to your hair as you’re near the mask sends shivers down your spine. “Nah, I’m too busy, fuckin’ you.” Your head being in the position it was, you got a clear view of Hugo’s face. You can see the sadness littering his eyes. “Aww, how sad. He must know that he can't satisfy you the way I can,” The voice panted.
Your nails could’ve made scratches into the wooden floor under you. Your neck could crack if he kept pulling you like this. He could kill you if he wanted to. You could feel the cold blade press up against your neck. You were scared, but your cock kept betraying you. Deep down in your gut, you had a feeling that you knew who this was under the mask, but you couldn't pinpoint who exactly yet.
“Baby, you gonna cum?”
“N-” You tried to state, but they cut you off, feeling the knife press deeper. “Before you start bullshitin’ me. Remember, I can kill you right here and your pretty boy toy, too. Now, baby, are you going to cum?”
You wanted to lie, even if you knew if you were going to die. But you couldn't handle the idea of Marigold growing up with a dad — the idea of Marigold being the one to find you crept through your head through his threat.
You nod your head and close your eyes. “Good, me too.” He grunts. His thrust made loud claps with your ass. Each thrust jerked you forward and pushed the knife press a little deeper into your neck. It was like he was on a mission, and he was each thrust closer to completing his mission.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” You spat.
“Cum for me, baby. Cum for Ghostface, baby.”
You exclaim as you feel your cum release itself from the chamber you had hidden from. “Fuck, baby. I’m gonna get you pregnant. Here it comes.” You hear the voice exclaim and thrust himself deeper inside you. As he lets go of your hair, you collapse on the floor, your arms lying on either side of you. You could feel his cum swim out of you as you lay on the floor — exhausted.
He gets up, fixes his cloak, stands up, walks towards Hugo, and bends his face to lean closer. “You upset that I made him cum with my cock and not yours?”
Hugo roars, hearing that question. He curses the man in front of him out as much as he can with tape plastered over his mouth. “Ugh, I’m getting sick of this.” He brings his fist up, connecting with Hugo’s jaw, and that makes Hugo’s head go limp. Taking a breath, Ghostface stands above you, watching as you take deep breaths on the floor.
“Please tell me y’know who this is.”
“Joel,” You answer flat.
“How?”
“The way the voice called me city boy, you did it as if I was going to be punished — like the old days,” You admitted.
You heard Joel chuckle as he helped you up off the floor. You stared into the eyes of the man who threatened you, held a knife against your throat, and overall gave you an orgasm you’ve been craving for so long. You push the mask off his face, and you see the same grin you're used to seeing. “Why didn't you try to fight back, hell, even bite my dick off?”
You crossed your arms and looked at Joel. “Would it be wrong to admit I just wanted an orgasm?”
Joel chuckles and shakes his head. “You're a sicko.”
“Says the jealous man, who threatened me for a couple of days — made me paranoid and just fucked me in front of my date. Yeah, I’m the sicko.”
Joel shakes his head as you laugh at him. You look at the clock near your wall and notice it read 7 o’clock.
“Damn, it's seven already. How long do you think you knocked out Hugo?”
“Probably got a glass jaw, an hour at most.”
“Wanna join me in the shower for old time's sake?”
“I’ll follow the leader this one time.”
You start walking the best you can with Joel on your tail. And you turn around on the stairs, and you stop. “What do you think you're doing?”
“Followin’ you.”
“Without the mask? You used to be smarter than you look.” You start walking up the stairs as Joel walks down the stairs, grabbing the mask and glancing at the knife on the floor and grabbing it, too.
“You actin’ smart, city boy. I’ll show you what I do to smart boys.”
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