#rumble and frenzy just wants to run away

[yrqrnc]

biker!haechan as your boyfriend who you’re mad at (but are you, really?)

★: fluff fluff fluff fluff & a very sexy biker!lee haechan

m.list

( 𝟔 : 𝟓𝟎 𝐩𝐦 )

“i know you’re mad at me angel, but please. hold onto me, or you’re gonna fall off.” your boyfriend pleads as he glances at you for a quick second through the rear-view mirror of his bike.

“no.”

your answer is simple and sweet bitter. a classic sign for him to know how upset you actually are at him, no matter how silly or random the reason may be.

and see, the thing is, in a room full of stubborn people, you would be superior. that is one thing both you and haechan have known for a long time.

so it didn’t matter how sweetly he talked to you right now, if you’re upset, you are upset.

“babe.”

you can hear the frustration in his voice, and that pisses you even more because, how can he be frustrated?

you are.

you were furious.

he was the one who had been all careless about driving on your way to the café by speeding and doing those careless stunts with his damned bike to apparently “show off his amazing skills”, and on top of that, he was also the one who then proceeded to smile a little too unnecessarily sweetly and be a little too unnecessarily friendly to the new pretty friend of chenle, whom you guys had met on your group hangout today.

of course, those were reasons to be mad.

right?

because he was quite shameless about it too. complimenting her right in front of your face and thinking you didn’t catch him side-eyeing you every 2 seconds to see your reaction everytime he interacted with her?

you found him utterly annoying.

most of the time, it was affectionately, but today, your patience had been running short and he had pushed your buttons too far.

your boyfriend was aware of that, and he thought it quite cute, actually.

however, riding the bike as his pillion rider while being on that current speed of the bike could be quite dangerous, and he only wanted to assure your safety in that moment.

“just focus on driving, haechan. i won’t fall off”

“baby, you will.”

“oh my god,” you groan out in annoyance. he really wouldn’t stop.

“i said i won’t. you know what? look—”

his consistent “hold on to me”s eventually get on your nerves in your already sour mood, and you decide it would be best to just prove it to him;

show him that nothing will happen at all—for once—so that he can shut his pretty mouth up and get you both home quietly and hopefully, try to then make it up to you there.

and to do just that, you start trying to completely detach your body from his.

you just saw absolutely no need to hold onto him like he was pushing you to do.

you let your hands fly in the air as you shift back on your seat, away from him, to show him that he’s overreacting and you’re really not going to—

it takes about half and a quarter second for the furious wind to hit you harshly, rolling in along with the fast velocity of the bike, and you’re almost sent flying back off the vehicle.

almost.

in that panicked state of mind, you latch onto haechan’s back instantly, grabbing onto him like your life depended on it.

and it did, actually, for a second there.

your mind becomes so frenzied for a moment; you almost missed how, the moment you shifted away from him, he slowed down and one of his hands immediately flew back to reach you, in an attempt to hold you and pull you back to keep you safe and steady.

then, there’s a moment of silence.

there’s a painfully long moment of silence; only the rumbles of the engine of the bike to be heard.

you try to process what had just happened and how you just quite literally just embarrassed yourself with all the confidence you had about around 10 seconds ago, while he takes his time to calm himself down and steady himself and the bike after knowing you’re still there behind him.

the loud quietness is humiliating until he finally breaks it.

“...are you okay?” his voice comes out a little shaky as if, after the initial panic, he’s now trying to bite back a laugh, and you know he’s looking at you through the bike’s mirror again, with that stupid smirk etched onto his face.

“yes.”

this time, too, somehow, your reply is short and bitter sweet, and biker!haechan finds you absolutely adorable as you very slowly sneak your hands up his chest from the back in a tight hold, sticking closer to him, while you try your absolute best to not face him.

only for your own safety purposes, of course.

because— fine, alright. maybe he was not all that wrong when he’d instructed you. you’d tried to prove him wrong, and nature had just done you the other way around.

and frustratingly, yet once again, he thinks you don’t hear him when he stifles a laugh right in front of you.

“shut up. don’t.”

you mumble out, in poor attempt to keep up with the anger instead of the embarrassment that was swallowing you up right now.

but you’re really just pouting in the backseat and your boyfriend knows that.

you don’t know whether you want to jump off this damned bike willingly yourself now, or if you want to hide your face in his back and never show yourself again.

“mm. didn’t, angel.”

and you hate how you can hear that cocky smile on his face without having to look at him as he speaks.

dumb, dumb, and stupidly hot lee donghyuck.

you loathe him, and both of you know how true that stands.

“are you hungry? we can grab some takeout from that place you liked last time.” his voice is sweet as it always is, as he suggests.

but your mind is still a fuzzy swirl of embarrassment and irritation at him from earlier, and it ends up speaking something completely against your actual wants.

“no i’m fine.”

“baby,” he smiles softly as he glances at you once more, “is that your anger talking or you?”

“…”

“you don’t want that beef soup ramen from that place?”

“no, i don’t.”

and he just knows from your tone that you’re sulking behind him as you say this, your mind screaming something else completely.

( ★ )

“you want something to drink too?”

haechan asks exactly 17 minutes later as you both stand to order your ramen and chicken wings.

what had you been mad at him about, again?

[evieolo]

Valentines Day Dinner

Pairing: Chris Sturniolo x Fem!Reader

Contains: SMUT!!/overstimulation/fingering/p in v

When Chris sees your set his jaw falls slack. Your checked flush pink. He’s ruined your surprise. You had just barely finished knotting the straps together.

The red lacy set you’d bought specifically for the occasion. Valentine’s Day. You were going to surprise Chris with it after dinner.

“You were going to wear this to dinner?” Chris questions, smirking widely. You purse your lips together using a finger to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “Under my clothes.” You mutter lightly, bringing a hand up to cover your stomach in embarrassment.

Chris walks over to you, his gaze meeting every part of your body below your eyes. You bite your lip. You’re flustered. “Stop looking at me like that.” Chris stops in front of you, his hand lazily at his sides, “Looking at you like what?” Chris raises a single brow.

“Like you want to eat me or something” You admit.

Chris smirks, raising his hand to grope your thigh. “You’re dressed in this and I don’t get to check you out?”

His hands roam your thighs until you stop him. Placing your hand over his, “Chris stop! We have to go to dinner.”

“You’re standing here wearing this..” Chris gestures to your outfit tracing your hips with his palms. “And you’re saying I don’t get to fuck you.”

You swallow harshly looking up at Chris. He rolls his hips against yours lightly pressing his tented pants against your thigh.

“Jesus—Fuck Chris. Our reservation is in forty minutes.” You pant, suddenly feeling the urgent need for a cold shower.

Chris palms your ass pulling you close to him, you yelp at the sudden movement. “I’ll get you off in five.” He mumbles, his voice rumbling against your ear.

“Chris…”

He groans, running a hand over your fabriced nipple. You gasp lightly at the stimulation, “Please let me fuck you ma’. You’re gonna have me all hot and bothered on our date?”

You press your thighs together trying, and failing, to relieve the growing tension between them. “Fine.” You grit, pulling Chris’ lips to yours.

“You have thirty minutes.”

He wastes no time pressing you to the bed. Pressing quick kisses to both your nipples through the mesh fabric. This sends a shiver down your spine, you moan loudly. “I love this top ma’, wear it again for me.”

Thirty minutes.

Chris decides to skip teasing, leaving your top as is. He pulls your thighs apart and uses his finger to push away the fabric of your panties. His fingers dive to your core finding your gummy spot after two strokes.

He focuses his fingers at a uniform pace and returns his attention to your chest. Sucking hickeys along your bra line while his fingers pump your wetness. The stimulation from his fingers was enough to have you clenching around Chris’ fingers. Once he started giving your tits attention you came almost instantly.

Twenty minutes.

Chris groans in frustration once he realizes he’s still in his sweats. He kicks them off with need and pulls his boxers down instantaneously, pumping his cock against your wet fold twice before lining himself up with your entrance.

You brace yourself for his initial push, you’d still never adjusted to his size. His cock was long with two veins running to the tip. The kind of size that’d hit your G-spot even if he was trying to avoid it.

He thrusts in and you gasp, he gives you no time to adjust and starts at a relentless pace chasing his own high.

“Chris! Chris!” You gape, feeling coils in your stomach.

Chris curses, “You tryna make me cum faster by squeezing around me like that?” He grunts, swallowing your moans in a kiss.

Your eyes roll back, his hammering thrusts sending your mind into a frenzy.

Chris’ thrusts grow sloppier, his dick running against the wet mesh of your panties every time he sinks into your cunt.

“I-I’m gonna cum fuck.” He views your fucked out expression and brings his thump up to circle your clit, knowing exactly how to set you off.

“Chris!Fuck!” You mewl clawing at his back. You buck your hips into his, your head lolling back. “Cumming! I’m cumming!” You’re unable to choke out any other words.

Chris pumps himself into you before pulling out. He discards the plastic he came in and slides his drawer open, ripping out another condom. “What are you doing?” You mumble watching him slip the condom on his fucked out dick.

Chris groans, manhandling you onto your tummy perking your ass up.

“Just need to cum one more time in this pussy” Chris whines, your hips bucking back against him, “we’re g-going to be l-late to dinner” you whine, jaw going slack as he thrust into your abused cunt.

Chris hammers into your hole, drooling at the fucked out sounds you making. You’ve already came twice; he's pushing you for a third orgasm.

Your top hangs loosely off your chest, unclipped in the back, inching further down your shoulders every time Chris’ hips meet yours.

“Gah Chris—slow down,” You moan, nearly unable to form sentences. Chris grunts, pressing your head to the pillow to muffle your sounds. “You said thirty minutes. I’m using every second.” He grits.

Your mind goes blank. It had only been thirty minutes? You feel your mind going fuzzy with pleasure. “Fucked you dumb huh?” Chris smirks, “You gonna cum on my cock.” He speaks heavily, ramming your swollen G-spot with every thrust.

The sensitivity of your nerves doesn’t help with your approving orgasm. You don’t think you’d ever came so quickly in such a short period of time.

“Yeah.” You choke out. Your velvet walls squeeze desperately against his cock as you orgasm in wailing sobs.

Chirs orgasms with you, your choked moans fueling him.

After he comes, he doesn’t move knowing how overstimulated you are, staying limp inside you.

“You can pull out,” you breathe, “just do it slowly.”

Chris complies moving haltingly out of your walls. He tugs the used condom off and ties it at its end, discarding it on the floor.

“That’s gross.” You point, turning to lie on your back. Chris faces you, resting a hand on his forehead. “Do you want to get up and throw it out?”

You shake your head. “Exactly ma’” He presses a kiss to your jaw. You frown, “Chris I think we missed dinner.”

You pull your phone off the bed stand and read the time. Six fifty-five. Chris notices your disappointment but smirks, shooting you a wink, “The dinner reservations’ are at seven-thirty not six-thirty.”

[zeropro]

HI I LOVE YOUR WORK okay two things

1) so. if rumble and frenzy show up at the ark (potentially seeking refuge)... how do soundwave and the other cassettes feel about that? i'm VERY curious about their appearance in that post (#1 soundwave + cassettes fan)

2) i'm wondering about thundercracker's thoughts during all this. has skywarp (or maybe even starscream) tried to reach back out to him again? if so, how did that go? if not, is he wondering where they are now? is he worried?

again, i'm going cuckoo bananas over your story, i fucking love seekers dude, you are feeding me top-notch five star meals here.

[in reference of this post]

thanks a bundle! :3 I dont have plans to make comics about these, so I'll just answer them here.

1) Soundwave was the one who pushed for Megatron to be fixed in the first place, but it's possible when Megatron came back online to find the Decepticons scattered to the winds, Optimus Prime is dead, a human is the one that "killed" him in the first place, and then Starscream running away instead of taking his beating and taking Skywarp with him, I think Megatron becomes a level of crazy even Soundwave cant ignore. I dont think he sent his twins away. but I dont think he'll go looking for them. He probably has to acknowlege they are better off away from Megatron.

2) Starscream and Skywarp arent going to be interacting with Thundercracker during the Autobot base phase of the story. Thundercracker needs space to heal and that's what he's doing rn, he has a puppy now, he's on vacation, leave the man alone. He does miss his bros, but he isnt interested in getting intangled again in war and politics and all that drama, and that's where Starscream still is focusing. It looks like theyre just hanging around at Autobot base (and maybe skywarp is just hanging around) but they are planning contingencies for what to do when Megatron strikes back. Bumblebee prolly does update Thundercracker on whats been happening when he visits tho. Theyre friends now. I think Thundercracker is torn between feeling relieved Starscream and Skywarp are safe and away from Megatron, proud of Starscream for finally seeking help, and resentful that it took him cutting himself out of the picture for them to do that. Man's tired. I think he just wants to chill.

[giverjoe]

Kiss The Rings- Emperor Geta x Fem!Reader

a/n: I struggled with this one heavy, but I hope you all enjoy it nonetheless! hair pulling, name calling, basic p in v sex, dirty talk, oral (male receiving) reader is just there to be used up, there is consent beforehand of course! 18+ only please! not proofread so if there are mistakes I apologize. feedback is welcome and appreciated! 💞

word-count: 938

Spending your time at the feet of the snarkiest emperor around was not how you pictured your life going, but here you were. Geta was hell bent on everyone knowing you were his. You’d managed to escape once and suffered the consequences, so now you accepted your fate. Maybe you even were starting to like it but you would never let that be known.

“Cmon, you can do so much better than that with that slut mouth, I said, kiss them.” The crazed look in Geta’s eyes made you want to hide and offer yourself up for him at the same time as you sat at his feet. A vile smirk was plastered on his lips as he held his hand out in front of your face. The rings on his fingers were sparkling from the rays of sun peeking through the windows. “Anything for you.” You breathe out, internally rolling your eyes before leaning down and kissing each of his rings.

A sound rumbled out around you, it should’ve been a laugh but it sounded more feral than anything else. “That’s it pet. Look at you, you’re certainly a pathetic creature, sitting on your knees and doing whatever I tell you.” Your face was hot as he degraded you, the words flowing out of his mouth causing a pit to form in your stomach and a wetness between your thighs. “I bet you’d love for me to split you open right now, wouldn’t you?” Everything in you was screaming yes, your heart beating harder as you slowly looked up at him, his eyelids heavy with lust as he scowls down at you.

You slowly open your mouth up for him as he taps the pads of his fingers against your mouth, he slides them in quickly, causing you to gag a little as drool runs around them and down your chin. The salty taste of his skin was the best thing you’d ever tasted, and even though he could be harsh, you would do anything for a taste. “I think we should get some others in here to watch don’t you?” He asks, his fingers fucking your mouth, slowly picking up the pace until they’re going down your throat.

You hum around them, a gargled jumbled mess that made no sense but he knew what you were trying to say. He laughs before slowly pulling his hand away from you, pieces of his clothing slowly falling to the floor below you. “Changed my mind, not today, but maybe if you’re good enough for me I’ll consider letting your favorite general watch you, I know you’d like that.” Before you could say anything he was pulling you up by your arm, his grip around it making your skin sting as he dragged you over to a chair in the room. “Bend over for me, now.” He snarls, pushing down on the middle of your back, your hands gripping onto the arms of the chair so hard you may have splinters later.

“What a good little servant. Tell me you love it baby, tell me you love when your emperor fucks you.” He says, pushing your legs apart and flipping your dress up, he wastes no time before spitting in his hand. He strokes himself a few times quickly, spitting down against your ass and letting it run down to your pussy before he’s thrusting in. The stretch and burn sends your mind into a frenzy. You push your ass back against him as a quiet moan falls from your lips. “I- I love it, love you, love when you fuck me please sir, please.” You babble, his hand twists up in your hair, he pulls on it so hard you’re sure he’s actually pulling some hair out, but you didn’t care. He could feel you pulsing around him at his rough actions.

Loud smacks ring throughout the room as one of Geta’s big hands lands down against your ass, causing you to tense up. “Shhh, you’ll take what’s given to you. That’s for being late meeting me here today, you know better.” He smacks you 6 more times, before he’s roughly pulling his cock out of you. The emptiness you feel sending a bratty whine tumbling from your lips as he turns you around to face him. He makes quick work in pushing you down onto your knees, the dirty floor beneath you rubbing against them uncomfortably. Your heart pounds as he strokes himself in front of your face, sweat beads roll down his tone chest and onto his stomach, the urge to lick him clean overwhelms you entirely. “Open that whore mouth.” You normally hate swallowing, but for him you would do anything.

Your mouth drops open, your tongue lolling out like some sort of dumb puppy as he rubs the head against your tongue. The salty taste of his pre-cum overwhelms you as you smell his skin. He pinches your cheeks together, mumbling about ‘how you’re his favorite hole to fuck.’ Your heartbeat is in your ears, wetness pooling below you as you ache. You knew he wouldn’t take care of you this time because of your disobedience earlier in the day. He moans out a choked sort of sob before his cum is hitting your tongue, running down your throat. He strokes himself a few more times before laughing at the fucked our expression on your face, turning his hand over to look at it before showing it to you.

“Looks like there’s some left behind pet, clean it up.” He demands sticking his hand out to you. “Anything for you sir, anything for you.”

taglist: @littlexdeaths @voyeurmunson @multi-culti-girl @jasminelafleur @jamdoughnutmagician @munsongirly @littleredpartydresson @munsonmuses @pretty-batty @munsonburn3r @punk-in-docs @gri959 @ho-for-joequinn-fics

[revelboo]

Hi! I absolutely love your writing and your blog. Literally my favorite ❤ I'm in love with Son of a Gun (love Soundwave btw). I read your writing everyday and it feels like I'm in there and not just reading it

Earthspark Soundwave is fun to write, he’s so bitter at everything, but it’s mostly worry. He’s determined to protect his little family no matter the cost

Son of A Gun Pt 9

ES Soundwave x Reader

• Glancing at the little lump of blankets in a corner out of the way of accidentally getting stepped on, Soundwave vents and pulls down a full size energon cube, carefully divvying it up so his cassettes each get a full portion for their needs, leaving himself a little less than half. But he’s gotten used to running on fumes even though he’s painfully aware how dangerous it is, what the cost can be for his cassettes. But their supply is dwindling and getting more means tangling with Ghost and the Autobots. Risking his family getting injured.

• Groaning when something heavy thumps down on you, you’re confused, head pounding when you look up and find Lazerbeak sitting on you. “You’re heavy,” you mutter, not even remotely interested in trying to make him move. Back aching, you hide your face in the blankets again. How long has it been since you’ve eaten something? Skin prickling as a shadow falls across you, there’s a strong temptation to pretend to still be out. Because maybe that’s Soundwave’s plan? Just work you with no food or water until you drop?

• Looming over the pile of blankets you’re hidden under, he rumbles as Lazerbeak circles, using his beak to tug at the blankets before settling again on top of you. Making him suspect the cassette is using you as a nest to keep him from taking you into the back to work. Protecting you from him. “Pet needs fuel, boss.” Lazerbeak says, head tipping. Denta gritting behind his battle mask, he bends to set Lazerbeak’s ration down. And finds Frenzy and Ravage both looking up at him entreatingly. Growling, he supposes you are more useful alive. At least while he still needs those little hands.

• Tensing as you hear those heavy peds moving away and then back, you curl into yourself. Hoping he just leaves you alone, but as Lazerbeak’s weight shifts off of you, you’re not even surprised when your blanket is rudely pulled away. Squinting up at anger issues daddy as he bends and sets a very crumpled box of cereal and a case of water close enough to your face that you shove away. And he’s just staring down at you, head tipping slightly as your heart races. “Thank you?”

• Staring down at your little upturned, eerily Cybertronian features, he growls and your shoulders hunch, head lowering. Submitting and something in him twists with a mix of disquiet and satisfaction. “Fuel,” he growls, nudging Lazerbeak’s ration until the cassette moves to take it before doling out rations to the other two. Turning his back on you and those wary eyes, he retracts his mask and drinks. What is it about your submission that’s so appealing? Is it having a helpless human pet when your kind is to blame for everything going wrong? Servos flexing on the energon cube, he can’t deny that he enjoys your fear, your submission. Stilling as heat flushes through his lines and shifts into something he definitely doesn’t want. A deviant thought that fills him with cold fury, wondering just how submissive you really are. Shaking himself, he glares over his shoulder and you glance up at him before dropping your eyes again, eating your weird food. And that satisfaction spreads like poison.

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[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!

[ohdearlingwhathappened]

Hiiiii! I read your cozy Starscream comfort fic on Ao3 and have followed you here :3

You mentioned being open to writing prompt requests; if this one strikes your fancy, I have one for you!

Prompt:

Something comforting about a Human!Reader who lately feels overlooked because they are inclined to be quiet in a group, and their shyness means they don't speak up or assert themselves unless something is really, really important. They listen far more than they speak. And even when they do speak up in a group... it's like no one hears them often times, and they get talked over.

Starscream, Soundwave, Optimus, or Mirage, if either of those four 'bots stir your muse?

Ahhh! Thank you for your request, and I’m sorry for the wait. I haven’t had the opportunity to write for Soundwave, OP, or Mirage so I’ll do blurbs for all four, but you mentioned Screamer is one of your favorites, so I made his a little longer! I hope you enjoy!

Soundwave (G1) WC: 608

The Decepticon site of operations is lively in the face of the most recent win against the Autobots, meaning high grade is being passed around like no one’s business. As the resident human, on site to assist the Decepticons with tasks that only small hands can manage- even smaller than the minis and the cassettes can manage. Only problem is- with how tiny and squishy you are, it is important that the cons watch their step- a task they frequently forget to do, even the Leader of the Decepticons himself, who made the declaration. 

With the high grade flowing and inhibitions lowering, the pedes around you hold no caution, making it obvious your… friends(?) have forgotten your existence… again. Having had enough of nearly becoming a smear on the floor, you make your way to the side of the room and press yourself to the wall as you scooch your way to the doorway. As soon as you make your escape from the room, you slam into someone’s shin and fall back on your rear.

“Inquiry: Why are you distressed?”

Looking up, the one and only Soundwave looking down at you with his helm tilted, a reminder that you’re so small and often forgotten surges through you and forces your eyes to well up with tears. It was such an odd feeling, crying at the pedes of one of the high command officers, who you can only imagine is staring blankly at you through his visor. Instead of waiting for any answer, the mech lifts you with his thumb and index digit and carries you away from the scene. It’s hard to keep track of where he’s taking you, your blurred vision keeping you from mapping his walking patterns.

After a few moments, your tears have slowed enough for you to wipe them away, just in time to see Soundwave briefly stop before a door and have him open it with a couple of buttons on the wall. Walking in, you notice Frenzy and Rumble in a halfhearted argument, Lazerbeak perched on the edge of the rather large berth, and Ravage curled up in the middle who, upon hearing Soundwave’s return, lifts his head to regard him. The Commander approaches his berth, Ravage moving temporarily before curling up in his master’s lap, once he made sure you were comfortable. Rumble and Frenzy grinning, their previous conversation dropped at the prospect of a recharge of a new entertainment source, run and climb their way onto the berth on either side of Soundwave, and on his shoulder, Lazerbeak finds his new perch.

“Ooo, is the human going to tell us about human stuff?” Frenzy’s grin doesn’t waver as he leans in toward you. Normally, the cassettes are much too wrapped up in either infighting or Soundwave’s orders, so they don’t really talk to you much, unless you’re needed for something.

“They will speak if they want. Or they can recharge.” Soundwave, as per usual, speaks plainly- it would be easy to misunderstand his tone for uncaring curtness, if you didn’t know him and the care for his cassettes better. 

Rumble and Frenzy both look to you, hopeful, and even Ravage, with his head in your lap, looks up to you in mild interest. It was a nice change of pace in comparison to the giants who would often forget you were even there. It briefly occurred to you to thank Soundwave later for not only helping you get away from the so-called party, but giving you some well-needed attention. You smile gently to the cons looking to you and clear your throat,

“Um… well, what would you like to know?”

Optimus (TFP) Gender-neutral reader WC: 692

“I’m not sure if that’ll work, Ratchet.” Arcee peeks around the medic’s frame, looking at the plans for intercepting a possible shipment of energon the Decepticons were planning on transporting, if their movement patterns indicated anything. You look at the computer from your spot on the raised platform, trying to make sense of the plan Ratchet had input.

“Maybe if-” You spoke up, albeit softly, trying to find a compromise, though you’re promptly cut off by the previously mentioned mech.

“And I’m not sure when I asked for your opinion, Arcee. Shouldn’t you be looking over your ward?” Ratchet snaps back, tired and obviously agitated by the state of the Autobot’s own energon storage. 

“Ratchet, that seems a little-” You try again.

“I’m just saying. It’s not like you’re on the field much- there are better ways to plan an interception of Decepticon forces.” The blue and pink femme argues, tensions rising as her optical ridges furrow and a servo finds its way to her hip. 

“Don’t forget who-”

You don’t stay around long enough to hear whatever snide comment the older bot was going to spit at Arcee, tired of feeling ignored and make your way down the hall, wanting to be anywhere other than the main silo of the base. Passing by Optimus, you don’t say anything, not wanting the feeling of anyone else not acknowledging your existence to sting you yet again today.

“My friend, you seem disheartened.” Optimus’ deep voice reverberates through the hall, less of a question and more of a statement, not giving you the chance to pretend you didn’t hear him. You turn around and grant him a half smile, before it drops and you avert your gaze.

“Oh, it’s nothing to worry about, Optimus. You might want to lend Ratchet and Arcee a servo- they’re caught up in a bit of a feud about the next mission.” Tapering off at the end, Optimus briefly glances towards the main part of the Autobot headquarters, where he can faintly hear the aforementioned pair squabbling about details he would hear about and consider later.

“Those two have been fighting this war for many stellar cycles and will come to a solution. For now, I believe I have something much more pressing to focus on.” Taking a knee, the leader of the Autobots holds down a servo for you to step onto. Once you have taken a seat and braced yourself against one of his digits, Optimus stands and holds you close to his chassis for further stability and begins walking back to his habsuite. “You do not have to tell me what is troubling you, but you are free to do so.”

It takes you a moment- you feel silly singing your woes to someone who has been fighting in a civil war for longer than you can conceive, but the feelings simply bubble up, “I feel small… smaller than I am, I mean. I can’t imagine the stress and exhaustion everyone faces from fighting for so long, but it feels like no one sees me. And if they do, they can’t bring themselves to care.” You curl up in Optimus’ hand and take a shaky breath through your welling tears, “I must sound so selfish- you all have so much more important things to do than worry about the feelings of some human.”

“One of our human friends.” Optimus chimes in, drawing your eyes away from boring holes into your knees to his optics, “It is true that we are anxious for the end of this war, but know this, you are our friend, and we care so deeply for you. You matter just as much as any other autobot, Cybertronian or human. I can assure you, I am not the only one who holds this belief.”

Before you say anything, the mech stops in front of his door, punching in his code and sitting you on a desk that must have been built for his size and he sits himself on his berth. He gives you a rare, gentle smile that fills so many with hope.

“Would you like to tell me about your day?”

Mirage (ROTB) Gender-neutral reader    WC: 533

“Woah, woah, woah! What’s got you down in the dumps?” Mirage looks through your apartment window, forcing a yelp from your throat. You leap up from your bed and rush to the window, motioning for him to get down. 

“What are you doing?! Get down before someone sees you!”

It’s pitch black out, wherever the street light doesn’t touch, but you still worry about the possibility of Mirage being seen, like he was when you met him as he was standing outside of Noah’s apartment- which then basically sucked you into this crazy adventure of saving the world from other space robots. You had stayed behind with Bumblebee to watch over him until a sudden surge in the energon brought him back, so you unfortunately missed all of the action of the final battle.

“Nice try, but no avoiding the question. Besides, no one’s walkin’ around at like… 2:50 am.” Despite his counter, Mirage lets go of the fires escape’s railing, his new frame rattling and resulting in a resounding thud and more than a couple of cracks in the pavement below. One of his servos comes into view for you to jump on, “Come on, small fry, I wanna go for a ride while the streets are as empty as they’ll get.”

“Why not get Noah to go with you? He too busy?” Your questioning would lead the bot to believe you wouldn’t be joining him for a spin, if he didn’t feel you carefully climb aboard. He lowers you to his eye level and shoots you one of his contagious smiles.

“Naaah. I felt like a you and me kind of night. I want to hear about what you’re up to, now that I’m not locked up in that garage anymore.” For further emphasis, he stretches his arms out wide and groans in relief. It had been a few months since Peru, and while you had visited Mirage while Noah had been fixing him up, it definitely wasn’t the same as him being out and in his element.

He doesn’t wait for any further response and transforms, quickly making his way down the road, no particular destination in mind, knowing him. The city passes you by quickly, Mirage not giving a second thought to any speed limit signs he sees, remembering he considers them suggestions, not law. Snapping you out of your thoughts, Mirage clears his throat, “Well? The tread on my tires isn’t getting any thicker- what’s my favorite human been up to?”

“Your favorite, huh?” Whether or not he really meant it, the thought brings a smile to your face. 

“Well, duh. I got out of that garage, and the first thing I did was come see you, so spill the oil- gimme drama.”

“...You won’t believe what Elena told me happened at the museum the other day-”

The rest of the evening was spent driving the backroads outside of the city, telling Mirage anything and everything. Mirage listens aptly, responding when needed, and takes pleasure in knowing he’s distracted you from whatever was dragging you down. You’re part of his home team, and he’s not just going to stand by while you fall victim to your thoughts.

Starscream (TFP) Gender-neutral   WC:1431

“Starscream! I have something to-” Running towards the seeker, his back plate remains facing you as he keeps his focus on Megatron. He normally turns to you, happy to see what his little human has to tell him. Your smile faltering after recognizing he has no plans to turn toward you, “Starscream? Are you ok?”

Megatron glances briefly towards you, but doesn’t say anything to neither you nor his second in command, likely due to the fact that they were waiting for Soundwave to return with more information before choosing any action, so your presence isn’t much of an interruption. Trying to hold onto the hope he just has yet to hear or notice you, you give his heel strut a tap, remembering how he had once told you he keeps special attention to that area for you. You furrow your brow at the confirmation of him ignoring you, your voice lowering in volume, “Starscream, what’s going on?”

“Starscream, I suggest you see to your… pet, before it becomes too much of a distraction.” Megatron growls at him, not bothering to glance back down at you.

“Of course, Lord Megatron. It was just leaving.” He still didn’t look down to you, keeping his optics glued to his leader.

It?

Without further ado, you quickly leave the room, not having any desire to stay where you are not wanted. Storming down the hall, you aren’t sure where you’re heading, but the plan was getting out, even if just for a few hours. There was no leaving the Decepticons- especially not with everything you’ve overheard, been told, and seen- you’d be hunted down in less than a day. 

“Woah-ho-ho! Where are you headed off to?” Breakdown, despite standing to the side to allow you to pass without the possibility of disaster occurring. The blue mech and his partner have been a nice comfort and support system ever since Starscream first brought you onto The Nemesis, often shielding you from Megatron’s ire when Starscream wasn’t around. 

“I’m finding a way off this ship, since I’ve obviously worn out my novelty.” You sniffle, refusing to shed a tear over someone you thought cared about you. 

“...How about I take you to the lab, so you can tell Knockout and me about what happened.” Breakdown smiled down at you, letting it grow when you nod and allow him to lift you up and onto his shoulder. And before long, you were sitting in front of Knockout and Breakdown explaining what happened on the bridge. 

“-and then he goes, ‘it was just leaving’. He called me an it.” Whispering, you were sitting on one of the medical tables while both mechs lean against a parallel table. You fiddle with the hem of your shirt, finally looking up to gauge their reactions. There stood Knockout with his mouth slightly agape, and Breakdown’s frown was deeply set in his faceplate.

“That slimy, scrawny-”

“Now now, Breakdown. I think there’s a lesson we can teach our superior.” Knockout, being broken out of his aghast stupor, rested a servo on his partner’s shoulder and smirks. He returns his attention to you and raises an optical ridge, “How does that sound?”

“Depends on what you mean, I guess.”

“Well, I deduced that you likely ran from the room after you were disrespected, am I right?” As you nod, he continues, “Right, so the last time Starscream saw you, you were in quite the distressed state. My idea is to let him believe that you left and let the slagger squirm in a panic.”

“He won’t. He didn’t even look at me earlier. Why would he care now?” The hem that you’ve been playing with during this conversation now scrunched in your fingers, hating the thought you’ve been discarded with so little thought.

A digit lifts your chin, forcing you to face the medic and his assistant, who smile down at you, “Trust me, dear. Starscream will care, he’s just an aft.

*        *        *        *        *        *

“Starscream, sir.” Breakdown hastily walks onto the bridge, mentally noting the lack of Megatron. 

“Breakdown… what is it?” Starscream turns to face the destructive warrior, face obviously in no mood for foolishness.

“The human-”

“What’s happened?” Starscream’s optics widen, panic already setting in.

“They’re gone, sir.”

“What do you mean, they’re gone?! They are to remain on this ship at all times, unless they are accompanied by myself!” Starscream grabs Breakdown by the edge of his chassis plating and pulls him forward to better snarl in his face. 

“They said something about being done with their stay here and made their way to one of the storage bays with the airlocks.” Breakdown shrugs, not showing any care for the mech who is beginning to dig his talons into his frame. Knockout wouldn’t be happy about his partner’s scratched paint and plating, but that would be a problem to deal with later. 

“Why would you not stop them, you incompetent-” Starscream pauses, unlatching himself from the larger mech. His optics narrow and he sneers, “They haven’t left this ship, and I’m willing to bet my next share of energon that they’re in that lab. Get out of my way!”

Shoving his way past Breakdown, he passes through the doorway and changes to his alt mode to faster get to the doctor’s lab, Breakdown quickly following behind him. Reaching the lab in record time, Starscream slams his fisted servo into the doorframe as the metal door swishes open, revealing Knockout gently speaking with you about how everything is going to get worked out one way or the other.

“What is the meaning behind trying to fool me into believing my star has left this ship?!” 

“I don’t know, screamer. Why do you make your star feel ignored and unwelcome?” Knockout stands to his full height and crosses his arms.

“Know your place, doctor.” His voice is low and holds promise for consequences, if your friend continues to display disrespect.

“I know my place, Starscream. Do you?”

“Why you-”

“Would you both stop it?!” You yell, startling everyone in the room. It isn’t common for you to raise your voice, always preferring to stand down, listen, and stay calm. But this was just all too much. 

The room was quiet, everyone not knowing what quite to do next, all mechs looking between themselves, then turning their optics to you. Another moment passes and Starscream turns to Knockout, much more calmly than before, “Knockout, I would like some time alone with them… please.”

The flashy Decepticon makes sure you’re ok before taking his leave, with Breakdown close behind.

“My star-”

“I’m not your anything. I am not some object or a pet, as Megatron so quaintly put it.” You snip, putting on the show of having no desire to hear what he has to say, despite wanting nothing more for him to give you a good reason for his behavior earlier and for him to apologize. “And you didn’t- … you - do I really matter so little to you?”

“Of course not. My star, you are the most important being in my life. But it is becoming increasingly difficult as Megatron’s fury and impatience grows. He anticipates my betrayal at every turn and has, on more than one occasion, threatened your life because of this.” Starscream gently scoops your figure up and presses his derma to the crown of your head, “I am sorry I have hurt you in my attempts to protect you, but I cannot fathom surviving this torturous world without you. Please… forgive me, my brightest star.”

“You’re such an idiot, Starlight.” You bring your arms up to cling to his face plate and lightly cry into his chin. You didn’t expect the weight that was lifted off your shoulders at his confession, but you were so grateful for the fact that it was just Starscream making a foolish decision.

“I would have to agree with you in this instance.” Starscream’s small, airy chuckle blows past your hair, and he presses yet another kiss to your forehead. “Will you forgive me, my dear?”

“I’ll forgive you just this once, but don’t ever make such a decision without telling me again.”

“You have my word. Now, why were you so excited earlier?”

“Well I…”

You spent the next few cycles regaling him about what the vehicons were up to and how silly Steve was behaving, knowing their idea wasn’t going to work. You love being able to talk to Starscream, knowing you were one of the only people he would give his full attention to. You love your mech. Your silly, silly mech.

[hoonieyun]

unmasked

pairing: sim jaeyun x reader x park sunghoon

warnings: slasher horror movie themes, mentions of death and murder, blood, true crime obsession, psychopathic behavior, violence, knives and weapons, serial killer vibes, 18+ not proofread

wc: 2250

as the footsteps stop in the hallway, just outside the door of the bathroom you were hiding in, you hold your breath– too afraid to breathe just in case the killer would be able to hear you. the silence is deafening as you try your best to not let your fears get the best of you but the longer the silence persists, your fear only continues to drown out any other emotion. 

when suddenly, a voice breaks through the silence, “yn? sunghoon?” a whisper cuts through the eerie and quiet atmosphere. “jay?” you whisper back and he groans in response, pulling the door open to reveal jay, disheveled and limping; clutching his side in pain from what you assume was because he had been slammed through the coffee table. 

“holy shit, i thought you were the killer.” you exhale, waving him over to hide in the bathroom with you until a familiar scream tears through the house. the shriek was loud and sharp, coming from upstairs and just as fast as it can be heard– it stopped in an instant. 

jay sends you a puzzled look and you soon realize that daniella is alone after the two of you got separated when the killer had made an attempt at attacking you both. “shit, dani!” you huff, jumping up from your crouched position and running towards the staircase in a frenzy but you’re stopped in your tracks as a shriek of your own leaves your lips. 

when jay catches up to you and halts at your side, his eyes follow yours, landing on daniella’s dead body laying at the top of the stairwell, the moon shining through the skylight above; creating a spotlight over daniella’s body.

unexpectedly, the lights are suddenly back on; almost flashing the two of you– causing you and jay to wince at the brightness, shutting your eyes before they adjust to the light. when your eyes flutter open, you find yourself staring at the killer as he towers over daniella’s body. he slowly raises his head to meet your gaze, tilting his head tauntingly and in one swift motion, wipes off the blood from his blade with the palm of his glove. 

“jay.. run.” you whisper and it doesn’t quite register in his head, jay was stunned and frozen in fear. no matter how many times he’s come in contact with the killer– fear was instilled inside of him as he stares at the person who has attempted to end his life several times. 

“run!” you shout, shoving jay forward just as the killer hastily makes his way down the stairs. he was fast, way faster than you and even faster than jay in his injured manner, jumping over steps to catch up to you– landing on the ground fast enough to slam you into the wall. a painful groan escapes your lips as you make contact with the wall, the killer standing above your hunched figure. 

jay notices you’re not by his side as he’s hobbling away and sees the killer hovering over you just a few feet away– he looks around to find something to help him but fails, cursing at himself for wanting to keep the house free of clutter and unnecessary items. “fuck it.” he whispers, charging at the killer and climbing onto his back. 

he and the killer rumble as he thrashes around to get jay off of his back, meanwhile, jay is gesturing for you to get up and help him take the killer down. you pull yourself off of the ground to help jay but neither of you are strong enough in comparison. the killer easily throws jay off of his back, landing on the ground near the broken debris of the coffee table, and slaps you– causing you to stumble. 

you hurriedly run to jay’s side, making sure he’s fine as the killer scoffs at the two of you. finding you both pathetic and weak; like it was way too easy for him to kill the both of you. “please– you don’t have to do this.. haven’t you killed enough?” you try to reason with him but he doesn’t move from his position. continuing to tower over your trembling figures as you help jay stand back up onto his feet. he winces in pain, glancing over the killer. 

“why are you doing this?” you breathe out, if ilhan wasn’t the killer after all, his motivation would have meant nothing in the first place. “if you’re going to kill us, the least you could do is show your face, coward!” you threaten, trying to rile him up so you could finally see the face of terror. 

the longer he doesn’t respond to any of your comments, the more you start to believe you could see the face of the person behind the mask. like there was something about him that felt so familiar; someone you had spent so much time with and have gotten to know. 

you didn’t want to believe it but there was only one name in your head as you come up with a conclusion on who the masked killer could be, you could only hope you’re wrong. 

“hoon?” 

“there’s no fucking way.” jay scoffs as you both stare at him. 

the killer slowly raises his hand to his face, stopping at his neck, fingers hovering over his mask. he continues to taunt you even now, he then drops his hand– mask still on. you and jay simultaneously sigh, frustration in both of your minds as the killer continues to toy with the two of you. he walks over to the two of you, standing just a few feet away– close enough that you could hear his breath. 

he takes his knife, flaunting it like a prized possesion. a bitterness in your mouth rises as you think about all of the blood that knife has met, the blood of your friends that has soaked the blade, and soon yours. with an unrivaled amount of strength, he winds his arm and stabs his knife into the wall to his right, an act that has no purpose but to further instill fear into you both. like he was showing he was unarmed by wedging his blade into the drywall but it also serves as a warning; that the blade is in his reach and that he could grab it at any second if you or jay were to try and do something. 

you were cornered and had nowhere to run. 

the killer then reaches for his mask once more and in one movement, reveals himself. shock shoots through both you and jay as you look into the killer’s eyes. a frightening grin on his face as he looks at the two of you like you’re his prey. two people at his mercy. 

“surprise..” heeseung says in a sing-song tone. 

“new guy?” you ask, his nickname slipping out of your lips naturally. heeseung had never liked that nickname but because he couldn’t risk his proximity to you, he never said anything. until now. 

“my name is fucking heeseung!” he shouts, rapidly pulling his blade out of the wall and lurking foward, pointing the end of the dagger towards you. “im so fucking sick of that nickname. you motherfuckers never even bothered to drop it when i’ve been your friend for half a year now.” he huffs, darkness in his eyes as he stares you down, the blade of his knife directed at your neck. 

if he chose to, he could easily kill you right now, his blade is only a few inches away from cutting into your throat but you try to act unfazed. like your life wasn’t on the line. 

“i’m sorry.. okay? but heeseung why are you doing this?” you ask and he retreats his knife. pondering on how he wants to answer your question. “see… i could say that it’s because i’m a little demented.. fucked up in the old noggin. 

or i could say it’s because i live for the thrill of the kill– or possibly because… i just wanted to.” his words sends shivers down your spine and you could feel jay stiffen at your side. you couldn’t believe that the boy your boyfriend and his twin brother would turn out to be a serial killer. heeseung was always fairly quiet, he only chimed in at certain times but he’s never given you any reason to be afraid of him or think he’s evil. 

“you know, yn.. you’re an interesting one. 

a few years ago, i was scrolling on the true crime subreddit, as one does. it’s my favorite subreddit by the way– you should check it out when you can… oh right. nevermind. 

what i’m trying to say is, i’ve spent so long on that subreddit that i ran out of things to read, i probably have read every single one of those stories three times so you could imagine that i’ve gotten pretty bored when it comes to the same old stories over and over again. 

then one day, i stumbled across a discussion post, one that caught my eye because it was left in a true crime subreddit but wasn’t necessarily like all of the other ones. you wanna know what is was, yn? 

oh, i’ll tell ya. it was about a man who was sent to jail because he killed one of his coworkers by rigging a construction machine to explode. sound familiar?” you shake your head in disbelief, heeseung was currently referring to the story about your father and you couldn’t believe that someone had made a reddit post about it. like it was some conspiracy theory that your father had it planned out on how he’d kill gong jiho when it wasn’t even his fault. 

“i spent hours scrolling through this reddit post and i was enamored at all of the theories people had. some said your dad was sadistic and hated jiho so you killed him, others even said your dad was framed and he’s innocent, no matter the actual reason– i found myself too invested in all of it that i came in contact with ilhan. 

we spoke for several months and when he couldn’t give me anymore information, i decided that i’d enroll at decelis university, befriend your sweet boyfriend and his dumb twin brother, no offense jay– fuck you!” jay interrupts but instantly backs down when heeseung aims the knife towards him. 

“pussy” heeseung scoffs. 

“and then i continued to hack into the school’s system, made sure i’d end up in your classes, even went out of my way to join the dance club because i wanted to get closer to you. not romantically, of course. don’t get me wrong, you’re a beautiful girl but i won’t touch what’s mine. at least, not without my knife. 

then, poor wonyoung. tsk tsk… we wanted to target someone close to you and it just happened to be her when she stayed home from that party. you know when i said that i passed out somewhere becayuse i was so drunk? yeah, well i actually snuck away to your apartment. i’m sure you can guess what happened next…” 

you felt sick as you listened to heeseung explain his motive and evil doings. like he was so proud to finally take credit for it and boast about the terror that he’s caused. heeseung smiled as he recalled killing wonyoung and how good it felt to be at the center of his own very true crime story as it happens. 

he grew tired of reading the same ones over and over again, so when he found the story of your dad and got connected with ilhan, he knew that he could make a story of his own. start his own legacy and new era of true crime as he inserts himself into the story. he loved the idea of people idolizing him as a smart, calculated, and brutal serial killer the same way he’s done with other glorified murderers. 

“you’re fucking sick.” you murmured, disgust painted onto your face as you glared at him. 

heeseung then goes on to explain that when detective irene and taeyong were getting too close for comfort, he knew where to find ilhan, in the end framing him for the murders so he could lay low for a while and plan for his next action. “we were pretty nervous we were gonna get caught, thank god ilhan worked as the perfect scape goat. for some detectives, they’re pretty fucking stupid, right?” he laughs, uses the dull end of his blade to scratch his head. 

“and here we are now!” his voice roars through the room, “you know it’s been kind of hard to kill you, yn. but we wanted to make sure you were the last one– but you, jay? you’re a lot stronger than you look, i don’t know how we haven’t killed you yet, but hey. now's the time more than ever.” 

“you’re fucking insane.. i hope you rot in hell.” jay spits at him, you’ve never seen jay so angry before but you couldn’t blame him. heeseung was currently standing in front of the both of you, playfully recalling his sadistic methods and explaining the way he’s planned out how he was going to terrorize you and your friends. like he was truly villainous.

“what can i say, i really like scary movies.” he says, flashing a smile with nothing but darkness in his eyes.

back - masterlist - next

killer's journal: surprise surprise... did you expect that it was me? probably not right.. i'm really good at playing innocent. "oh im just the new guy i don't know any better" but i knew way more than these idiots. they continued to play into my hand time and time again. now, it's time to finally put an end to my sick little game. -lhs

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[delopsia]

stalling | Rhett Abbott x Reader

Word Count: 3,200 Cross Posted on AO3 Warnings & Notes: 18+, AFAB!Reader, cunnilingus, hand jobs, a men's masturbation sleeve, PBR! Rhett, implied marriage. (But also, Rhett Abbott being needy.) Exhibitionism, if you wanna be technical about it. Brief Summary: You're going to be in so much trouble if someone walks in and finds out that the PBR's best cowboy is eating you out in a bathroom stall.

It's the obnoxious squelch of his drooling tongue gliding over your clit that's going to give him away. 

Wet little noises punctuate his every movement. So sharp that they bounce off the walls, running round and round the room and in your ears until it's all you can hear. Has your shivering fingers pulling harder on his hair, yanking him away just enough for one of those deep groans to escape, and oh god, it's only making things worse.

The last thing you need to do is give someone a reason to open the bathroom door. Walk in and catch sight of Rhett's knees against the concrete floor, between another pair of legs. Unzipped jeans pooling around his ass, one-of-a-kind rodeo buckle glinting in the light, right next to where his neglected cock rests in his lap, so heavy that it can no longer stand upright. 

Cheers roar outside. A buzzer sounds, chased by the muffled shout of an announcer you've already forgotten the name of—another eight-second ride. But it's not going to be enough to steal the number one slot. No, not with that shiny new record, not even thirty minutes old yet. 

"Thank you," he's panting, hardly able to draw himself back to speak, as if doing so will cause his whole world to crumble.  "Thank you for letting me eat your pussy."

His tongue is so hot. A wet flame that presses into you, lazily working in and out, the tip of his nose bumping against your clit, barely there touches that have your hips jolting. But as quickly as his tongue appeared, it's drifting away entirely. Bold enough to test the waters but too impatient to commit, already venturing up, up, up, back to the swollen little bud that he can't stop tormenting.

You're going to be in so much trouble if someone walks in and finds out that the PBR's best cowboy is eating you out in a bathroom stall.

"Y' taste so good," speaking directly into you, his voice rumbling up your belly and into your chest, jostling the cluster of butterflies that have been resting there. 

The heels of your palms press into his forehead, but it's not doing anything. You can't escape the frenzied twitch of his tongue, rolling back and forth, a feather-light contact that ought to send you through the roof. 

"Rhett, you're gonna..." The sound of your voice is meeting your ears, but you can't feel your mouth moving. "Oh fuck—Rhett, you're gonna get us caught." And there's more that you want to say, but you're being cut short by your own drawn-out squeal, fingers knotting in those deep brown locks.

Your heart hammers against your chest with all the strength and fury of those bulls he rides. Thighs shivering, nerves set alight as his lips wrap around your clit, sucking so harshly that the noise echoes all around the room. 

"'s my reward, ain't it?" He sounds almost innocent. As if his devilish tongue isn't hanging out of his mouth, the definition of sin itself. "They can't object to that."

You'd like to argue that they can, but fuck, those loose little circles are about to put you on the goddamn floor. Hips writhing, held in place by the big hands squeezing the fat of your ass, forcing you to remain upright until he's had his fill of you. 

"Rhett—"

Hinges squeal as the bathroom door swings open. 

Sparkling blue eyes dart up to your face, and you can't see it, but you can feel the grin working its way across his face. Boots thump across the floor, then fall silent. The sharp sound of a zipper sliding down kisses your ears. Whoever it is, they're only here for the urinal. 

But Rhett Abbott doesn't care what they're here to do. Opening his mouth to lick a long, fat stripe up your pussy, so content with himself that his eyes close midway. And there's not a damn thing that you can do about it. Hands flying up to clamp over your mouth, stifling a whimper that would surely give you away. 

That big, dumb idiot is pointing his tongue now. The soft tip of it delicately dancing across you, like too much pressure will cause the walls of this bathroom to come crumbling down. Diligently rolling your clit around like you're a piece of candy that he can just idly toy with. A cry squeaks out of you, hardly masked by the loud flush of the toilet.

There's no reason that this should be causing heat to pool in your lower belly, but it is. Winding tighter and tighter, a taut string pulled to its breaking point. So close to snapping that every step this stranger takes is too slow. Thunking closer and closer to the door, until finally...

It screeches open. Then, begins to close once more. 

You've never been so thankful for someone not washing their hands. Already reaching down to tangle your fingers in Rhett's hair and yanking. Forcing that sinful mouth of his away from your sex before—

"No, no, no," Rhett's babbling, whining, like his life depends on it. "Please, I want y' to cum on my tongue. Please, please, I want, I want..."

You can't even begin to argue with him. Because he's already wriggling himself loose, and his dripping tongue is back on you, and his stubble is scratching against you in the most mind-numbing fashion, and your whole world goes silent. 

Nothing but a faint ringing in your ears as your thighs clamp down around his skull, cumming without the slightest bit of warning. Head tilting back, thunking against the wall. A wildfire rushing across your skin in the form of a shiver. And Rhett just can't help himself, humming, licking you through it until the involuntary spasm of your pussy devolves into oversensitive, full-body jolts. 

"You..." sucking in a gasp, "have a problem." 

Understatement of the century. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was being paid. 

Rhett leans back onto his haunches, scruffy, unshaven chin glistening in the light. Dripping, even. "But I'm your problem." You don't know who taught him that, but they're going to get an earful when you catch them.

"That you are," weak, you pull on his hair, hardly enough to even sway his head. "Come up here, dummy."

There's hardly a bit of strength left in your body, and yet, somehow, your little motion is enough to get him moving, knees creaking and all, as he rises to his feet. Wet nose bumping into your cheek, nuzzling you in some odd, dog-like fashion that has you succumbing to the urge to slide your hand down and scratch him behind the ear. 

Eyelashes flutter. Pushing back into your hand. "You pettin' me?" 

"You gonna do something about it if I am?" Taunting, beneath your breath. 

His eyes roll, but he doesn't need to open his mouth for you to know what his answer is. Not when he's smiling like that, a lopsided grin and half-lidded eyes. So laid back and content that he hardly seems to realize that both of your hands are making their way down to his waist, grabbing hold of it and forcing him to spin around. 

Boots chirp against the floor. And you're reaching toward your purse with one hand, blindly feeling against the stall door until you can find where it's hanging. The other arm slips around his belly, cinching him to you. His back knocks into your chest, so close that his hair tickles your cheek. 

"Y' ain't gotta..." he starts, but whatever he's trying to tell you dies in his throat. Shut up by the clear object you're drawing out of your bag. The new stroker sleeve you've been saying you'll try out but have never had the patience to dig it out of the drawer. Inconspicuous at first glance, just a rubber cylinder, textured with little nubs on the inside. 

"Can you do something for me?" Ghosting your lips over the shell of his ear. 

It's impossible to miss the shiver that rattles down his spine. "Uhuh." Nodding dumbly. 

"Touch yourself." Comes out as more of an order than a request, but that doesn't matter because Rhett's already reaching for himself. Big hand wrapping around his neglected cock, sucking in an audible breath from that alone.

You can't dig the lube out fast enough, popping open the cap and blindly pouring it into the toy. So half-assed that some of it winds up spilling out the side, running over your fingers and dripping to the floor. But you don't care; a mess is worth the sight of Rhett stroking himself, twisting his wrist just how he likes it, hips greedily leaning up into his own touch.

Lazy, you drizzle some of the lube right onto his hand, uncaring of the mess you're making. Almost entranced as he spreads it over himself, shimmering in the dull bathroom light. 

But then he's reaching out, sticky hand impatiently curling around yours, trying to guide the toy toward himself. "I want..." his head shakes, searching for words. "Want..." 

If this were any other day, you like to imagine you'd play dumb. Force him to put into words exactly what he wants and how. But the rodeo crowd and the booming voice of the announcer are still out there, anticipating his celebratory return, and that new, sparkling record ought to warrant him a reward. 

He knows that he's getting what he wants, too. Hand sliding back to his base, holding himself still as you lower that dripping toy onto him.

His head tilts backward with a gasp, falling onto your shoulder.

All that and you've hardly slid the thing past his flushed tip, almost have to squeeze him to you in order to keep him still, working down him inch by devastating inch. 

"Oh my god," a little waver in his voice, hips involuntarily jerking up into the sleeve. Those knees buckle, knocking into each other. "Fuck."

A giggle rumbles out of him, and you don't need to look in the mirror to know that his cheeks have turned a nice shade of strawberry, set off by the sound of his own voice. One of these days, you'll get him to believe that he sounds pretty like this, but right now, you've got a different agenda on your plate.

"Tell me how it feels," you whisper, slowly drawing that toy back up, squeezing your fist past his cock head, then beginning to draw down again. 

"Feels..." but he's forgotten how to talk, mouth floundering without a sound. "'s tight...and—mmh!"

Maybe it's your fault for twisting back up so quickly, but you just can't help it. Not when his ass is squirming back into you, unsure if he wants to push into the toy or wriggle away, mouth hardly muffling that long, drawn-out groan. Even through the thick silicone, you can feel the way he twitches, jerking in your hand like a live wire. 

So, so sensitive after a couple days of no fun.

Your hand is already quickening. Too eager to hear those breathy little oh, oh, oh's, set off by the flick of your wrist when you pass over his head. Thighs squeeze together, one of his hands flying out to brace himself against the mirror. The one that you can't quit looking at. Downright obsessed with the sight of this clear silicone hugging tight around his cock. The way precum is already spilling out of him and dripping onto the floor below. 

"Feels���feels good," tripping over his own words, voice so high that you hardly recognize it. "Fuck." 

And just like that, your hand stops. Squeezing firm at his base as he involuntarily jolts forward. 

A whine echoes through the bathroom. Pitchy. Frustrated. "Why...why did you..." He tilts his head to meet your eye. "You stopped." Speaking dumbly.

"I know." Grinning. Your hand loosens just enough for him to move again. "Try and fuck it by yourself."

Almost automatically, he tries to jerk forward. Boots stumbling across the floor, forearm flying up to catch himself as his upper body falls forward. Forehead against the mirror, dark blue eyes locked on the sight of that sleeve wrapped around his cock. 

Weak, his hips begin to move. 

Hissing as he draws back, almost hesitant to move, like he's afraid to slip out of the toy entirely. And it's...fuck that's a sight you haven't seen before. The obscenity of Rhett fucking a cock sleeve, how his balls sway with the motion of his body, perfect for you to reach down and grab. Heavy in your palm, so full that you worry what may happen if you do anything more than run your thumb up and down them. 

"This ain't—I can't," Rhett croaks, tongue darting out to wet his lips. "This is hard." 

The hand around his dick tightens, sends him jumping. "You can do it." 

And he just can't help himself. Feet shifting the slightest bit, trying again. Quicker this time, the lube squelching so loudly that it bounces off the wall. His mouth falls open, fogging up the mirror, panting like a dog on a summer day. Soft noises tumbling out of him, unable to stop a single one of them. 

"There you go," you murmur directly into his ear. "That's a good boy."

Pearly white teeth sink into his bottom lip. Eyes squeezing shut. 

He's trying. 

He's trying so, so hard. But he just can't move quickly enough. Trapped in the crevices of this awkward position, fucking himself into your hand, arms braced over his head, legs too close together. So frustrating that you can hear it in his little grunts, bubbling out of him with every thrust.

"Please," he rasps, head thunking against the mirror. "Please, please, please." 

You've got a feeling you know what he's after. "What do you want?"

"I wanna cum!" He's blurting before you've even finished talking. "Please—please let me cum." 

The buzz of yet another eight-second ride sounds. Loud. Booming through the walls and into this little bathroom. But it's not enough to cover up Rhett's sob as your hand begins to move once more. Pumping him in tandem with his frantic hips. Drinking in those airy cries rolling off his tongue, hanging halfway out of his mouth.

"This what you were wanting?" Coy, your teeth find the lobe of his ear, tugging gently. 

"Mhm," is all you're getting out of him. And he's reaching down between his own legs, dragging your hand out from where it's still toying with his balls and squeezing it tight. Needs something to cling to. Anything that isn't this cold mirror in front of him. 

Those darkened eyes peel open, locking with yours through the reflection, and his mouth is shaping around what you think is your name, but not a syllable is escaping. Almost immediately, they flicker shut once more. Your wrist flicks once. 

Rhett cums with a strangled moan. Body jerking against yours. Feet stumbling. And your hand is moving so fast that the toy catches that first rope of cum before it can splatter on the mirror, then the second. Smearing it across his spasming cock, creates a dizzying mess with the lube, so much of it that he's dripping, little spots of it scattering on the floor and the toe of his left boot. 

"Fuck," his breath fogs the glass. "That was...oh."

Your hand freezes halfway down his length. Almost forgot it was moving to begin with. 

"No, no, no," lazily tilting his head to peer over his shoulder, "keep goin' for a second."

And so you do. 

Slow as you can possibly manage, dragging the mess of a toy up and down his cock. He's sensitive. You know he is because he's shifting his weight onto the tips of his toes, fist tightening until his knuckles whiten, but there's a shiver visibly running up his spine. Cum spills out of his swollen tip. Hardly enough to count, but it's something. 

"'s good," Rhett murmurs after a moment. You've hardly got to do anything; he's already pulling away on his own, drawing that softening cock of his out of the toy altogether. Falls limp against his thigh, that sickly mixture of cum and lube already beginning to stain his jeans. 

It's a mess that'll have to be dealt with in the privacy of your hotel room because he's already tucking himself away. Pulling up his zipper and fastening that gaudy championship buckle. One of a kind. 

A selfish part of you hopes that tonight's buckle is a little easier on the eyes. 

One of his knees buckles as he turns, a big hand flying out to catch himself against the wall. "Shit," he's giggling, peering at you through the hair that's fallen into his face, "y' got me all weak in the knees, doll."

"Don't tell me you need to be carried," you're saying as if you're not intrigued by the idea of giving it a shot. 

"Nah," shaking his head, smile so big that his teeth glint in the overhead light. "Might need a few kisses to get me through the night, though." 

Eyeroll. Your free hand darts out, grabbing hold of his shirt collar and hauling him in, meeting those pale, swollen lips for a sloppy smooch. The first one lands awkwardly on the corner of his mouth, both of you leaning in the wrong damn direction. But then Rhett's tilting his head, nose bumping into yours, and he's meeting you properly. One little chaste kiss after another. 

A muffled voice creeps through the walls. Distorted, but you can still hear those two little words all the same. 

"They're calling for you, Abbott," speaking against his lips, making no real effort to pull away. It'll be a few hours before you get to steal this many kisses again. 

He hums. "Which one?" Kiss. "There's two of us standin' here." Kiss.

Weak, your hand thunks against his chest. "The dumb one who climbs on dangerous animals for fun."

"That's both of us, sweetheart," he had to have been storing that. There's no way he could have come up with that so quickly on his own, grinning like a cat that's gotten the cream.

"You're not a wild animal," adjusting the hem of your shorts, blindly feeling about to make sure that they've fallen back into place. 

Nobody will know what you've been up to, so long as they don't see the bite mark on your inner thigh. 

"I can be," Rhett winks. 

That's an argument that you'll have to settle in the hotel room. Before you can even say another word, he's darting for the door, sliding open the latch, a melody of laughter trailing behind.

"Hurry!" He's barricading himself up against the entryway. Feet dug into the ground, hair sticking up every which way. "Before Archie comes lookin' and figures out 'm not actually sick." 

You can't get to the sink quickly enough. 

And if anyone notices that Rhett is a little looser than usual when he climbs that stage to accept his award, nobody says a word. Too focused on the hoopla of a brand new record, the glimmer of a brand new belt buckle, tacky as all hell and a lifetime worse than the one that sits sideways against his belly. 

...but they might notice when he turns his head and flashes a ruby red bruise lurking just below his ear. 

Sure wonder where that came from.

[moon-buggg]

SCP au drabble

set a week after YN gets taken to the facility, basic au info here

warnings: yn was kidnapped by an offbrand scp foundation after they didn't get killed by Moon and thats whats being discussed and im not sure how to tag that. Yn is a little emotionally dumb, flirty sun

no word count because I wrote this in the tumblr post maker in a frenzied haze

-

"You are stuck here... because of us?" Sun asks, carefully, tentatively. His, frankly, absurdly tall body hunches over so he can be at eye level. Under any other circumstances, you'd be terrified of the strange creature trying to comfort you. As is, his presence is incredibly comforting; the sole friendly face in a sea of questionable actors.

"I mean, pretty sure they expected Moon to kill me," Sun flinches just slightly, ears tilting ever so slightly back, "so I don't think I was ever meant to leave this stupid place, anyways."

You'd fallen asleep in the darkness of what you now know as Sun and Moon's room, and had awoken to several researchers and armed guards preparing you for a barrage of tests. Those first few days had been a horrible mess of exhausting tests and tedious interviews as your white-coated captors tried desperately to discover what made you different.

Why you'd survived.

They still hadn't found anything, but at least the tests seemed to be slowing down ever so slightly. After an uneventful introduction to the more passive, daytime version of the thing they expected to kill you, it was decided that you'd be allowed to visit him once every other day.

Jury seemed to still be out on if it was worth risking another encounter with Moon.

"It's not your fault," you add after a beat of silence, "or Moon's for that matter. You're both trapped here just as much as I am."

A soft, crooning sound rumbles out from Sun's chest as he slinks back into a seated position that leaves him still about a head taller than you. Gentle lights pulse across his fur, barely visible under the harsh fluorescent lights. He seems to struggle to find the right words, before giving up.

Carefully, as if approaching a startled animal, he reaches out a hand. When you don't react to the long claws coming at you, he continues. Turning over his hand to keep those sharp claws decisively away from you, he runs his knuckles over your head in a clear attempt at a comforting gesture.

It's startling how much it works.

"Oh starlight, far too kind for a place like this." His voice is soft and quiet in a way that makes your face feel warm. You choose not to think about it too hard. "You shouldn't be locked away."

"Neither should you." The words are harsh and automatic, and seem to startle Sun who draws back as if burnt. His glowing fur brightens significantly, its starting to get uncomfortable to look at, actually.

He recovers quickly.

"There you go," the words are teasingly chiding, "proving me right starlight." He reaches a long claw out again, this time using his knuckle to gently boop your nose.

He bends, using his long neck to crowd into your space. It's hard not to feel a little threatened by those big teeth so close to your face, and Sun's widening smile does little to help. Seems like you can't help but feel flustered today.

"At least you'll have me to keep you company." His voice is just a bit too hopeful, like he's desperate for you to agree. Poor guy seems utterly starved of positive affection. The urge to comfort him is hard to ignore, so you don't.

It's easy enough to thread your fingers into the long mane of fur that frames his face. The feeling is distracting, it's so warm...

Movement brings you back to the moment as Sun leans ever so slightly into your touch. Right, right, you had a reason for this.

"We're in this together," you say in what you hope is your most sturdy, comforting voice. Sun's presence has done a lot for you in the few days you've been here so far, and you want to do your best to be a comforting presence to him in return. You don't miss the way his fur seems to glow brighter and hotter at your words.

Acutely aware of where your hands are, you realize that grabbing a giant monsters face out of no where probably wasn't your best idea.

"Sorry!" you quickly release Sun's face, your own face hot with embarrassment, "Sorry! I shouldn't have just grabbed you like-"

"We didn't mind, starlight," he interrupts, pulling back out of your personal bubble. His hand ghost over where you touched, smoothing the fur back down, "no, don't mind at all."

[triasticalwarlock]

yandere bob with a reader who has an odd fascination with cannibalism? shes never tried human flesh, but she certainly wouldnt be opposed

Deadly fascination

Hope you like this! Bare with me since like the other characters I write for, I'm still perfecting his personality. But I hope you liked this! Also, sorry if it's short. Enjoy! :)

Pairing- bob velseb x reader

Relationship- Romantic/platonic

Warnings- yandere behavior, cannibalism, when he's a red flag but y/n is color blind, fascination with cannibalism, murder, possessive behavior, obsessive behavior, controlling behavior, non-con bob,MDNI.

Genre- yandere, fluff(?)

I personally believe that for both regular and yandere bob, they would both be ecstatic. Finding someone who wasn't terrified of them just from this fact, accepting the hunger for flesh without a second. They would be even more happy once they find out about your weird fascination with it, the first thing coming out of their mouth.

"Ya wanna try it?"

For yandere bob, he wouldn't really care if you wanted to try it or not. If he has to, he'll force feed you. While regular bob, will still try to get you to eat it, but will respect your decision after the 2nd time of trying. But knowing how you wouldn't be opposed of trying it, would send bob into a frenzy. Making a whole ass thanksgiving dinner but with human meat for you, standing in front of you. Fidgeting in excitement, waiting to see what you think of it. Now, if you like it, this man is mentally jumping in joy and shouting ' HURRAY!' and then will tell you to keep the eating. If you don't like it, he really doesn't care, will still make you eat it.

If you're fascination is that strong, he'll gladly let you watch him kill and cook his victims. Both Bob's are addicted to your attention, loves it when it's on them. But with yandere bob it amplified by 1000x. So having you watch him is like a blessing to him. Asking him questions about the process with make him rant about all the facts of cannibalism he knows, look at his search history and all of it is just, ' facts about cannibalism'. While he is a cold blooded killer, and cannibal. He is such a goddamn nerd. It's insane how much he knows about this way of eating.

Also, biting. Let's talk about that. If you want to, he'll gladly let you take a bite out of him. Biting and eating your partner is a love language for him. So that means he'll do it to. The places he normally goes for are; the arms, legs, neck, and fingers. But he keeps in mind not to take a bite out of you to much! Wouldn't want you leaving him would we?

Feeling the softness of his stomach Beneath your foldes legs feel like they were on a cloud. His large hands holding your hips just to hold you. Placing your hands on his shoulders, which was covered by his regular blood-red sweater. Sending you a grin, he tilts his head in a curious manner. " Watcha waiten' on suga?" Lifting one of his eye brows at you. You look away for a moment, thinking. " Well, I don't know where to bite you at." Letting out a booming laugh, slightly moving you up and down from your placement on his stomach. Before stilling. Still letting out a few chuckles" Please, hun. I've bittan inta' more people than ya could blink. I'ma be fine." Tilting his head more to give you room, his turtle-neck pulled aside. You nod, deciding to trust him. What else could you do? You knew he would force you if you didn't, he always did. But it wasn't like you wanted to stop, you where just making up scenarios. Leaning into the nave of his neck, you bite down. Not softly, but not rough either. Comfortable. You feel the rumble through his neck when he groans. Knowing him by know that he more than likely had some drool running down his stubbled chin. Lifting your hand, you dig it in his dark, black hair. Massaging his scalp as you bite harder. Making a iron-like taste invade your mouth. You feel Bob's arms wrap around you, pushing you against him harder. The position of your legs making it slightly uncomfortable, but you manage. The sounds falling out of his mouth sound like one of pleasure, not even in a sexual way. Just knowing that you were the one doing this was comforting to him. So, while it last. He indulged as much as he could.

Bob is also fiercely possessive. And just the thought of having a piece of himself inside of you( shut up, I know what you all have going through your heads right now)? Makes him happy, it makes him feel at peace. Because where ever you go he'll always be with you; protecting you, keeping you, owning you. you get this gist. And having a piece If your flesh in him does the same thing. You'll always be with him no matter what.

If you want, he'll let you kill someone yourself! He'll watch like a proud dad as you stab them. Pointing at you and going, 'see that? That's my wife that's killing you' then, he might let you cook with him! The reason that he doesn't do it without some convincing is because cooking for you is one of his pride and joys, mostly his pride. And he likes taking care of you, it makes you rely on him.

But, by some god you do manage to convince him. He'll be instructing and watching your every move. To make sure you don't get hurt and still having some control over your actions. Besides, he was a literal cook once, and he eats human flesh like it's a religion. You know that he knows what he's doing, so you listen.

But overall, regular and yandere bob would be happy with your interest in cannabism. They have your attention on them and are able to be in your presence. Which puts both versions at ease.

Version-not edited. Will if I notice something I didn't before.

[vienssunshine]

Don’t know how to feel

pairing: Choso x fem-coded!reader nsfw: sub!Choso, oral sex choso receiving word count: 3k description: while attempting to escape the chaos in Shibuya station, you run into a man dressed in a strange Halloween costume

Your friends said Shibuya was the place to be for Halloween, that they would just die if you didn’t join them for the party tonight. You surrendered to their begging, it’s not like you had other plans, and put on a more-slutty-than-tasteful vampire costume to accompany them for the festivities in the square. It should be a good time, you thought, the perfect opportunity to get buzzed and maybe laid. But as the screams got louder and you realized that no, someone hadn’t slipped something into your drink and that yes, the stampede coming towards you was real, your only concern became staying alive.

You’re torn away from your friends, elbows jabbing your sides, hands pushing you to keep moving or be trampled under frenzied feet. When you look to the sky, fighting to stay upright, you see that some kind of boundary has fallen over the surrounding area, keeping you all trapped. Despite this, the crowd still searches for escape, lurching in directionless surges and crushing you with pounds of body weight every time the current turns. So when you get to the edge of the mob, you take the chance to break free and run to the first shelter you can see: Shibuya station. You hurry inside, trying to not let the blood coating the stairs leading underground deter you. If you can’t escape whatever’s going on, you’ll have to hide until it blows over.

The bottom of the stairs is covered in rubble, the gaping hole in the ceiling above it the clear perpetrator. You clamber over the loose rock and steel to land on the tile of the train station. Behind you, strange noises from the world above begin to bellow through the staircase. You don't know what could be causing such unnatural sounds, but it's clear it would be best to put distance between you and their origin.

Your feet hit the ground hard, and you’re panting as you whip your head around, looking for anything to use as cover. You spot a small divot in the wall—maybe there’s a tunnel out of here—but when you approach it, you find it filled with the crouched form of a man. He’s in a Halloween costume too—though you’re not sure what he’s dressed up as—and leaning on the cracked wall, eyes wide in a thousand yard stare. It’s clear he’s not taking the situation at hand well, but if he wants to have any chance of surviving, he can’t stay out in the open like this.

A loud roar and a flurry of screams from the ground above echos through the station.

“Hey,” you whisper-shout, “Come with me.”

Unaffected, he mumbles something.

You try again, the urgency in your voice unhidden, but are interrupted by footsteps rumbling down the steps of the train station—though it doesn't sound like a crowd of humans, rather a parade of zoo animals. You’ve got to go, now. Still, you reach down and grab his forearm, offering the poor man one more chance to come with you and save himself. He must've had a moment of clarity because because he allows you to get him to his feet and drag him behind you.

The stampede is reaching the bottom of the stairs when you turn the corner and pull the man through the first door you see, slamming it behind you. An emergency light overhead casts a dim, yellow haze over what you recognize as a closet, allowing you to spy a tall shelf of cleaning supplies—a janitor's closet.

“Help me move this in front of the door,” you command.

You get behind the shelf and begin pushing, digging your feet into the cement ground and pressing your weight against it. Fuck, it’s too heavy. The weird sounds are getting closer. You push even harder.

The shelf flies forward, causing you to stumble and steady yourself with the wall to your side. Though you wish it had been, it wasn't your strength that moved it.

You turn around to see that the man is right behind you, having joined in the effort to barricade the door, and from his extended arm, had only used one hand to do so.

He drops his arm down by his side and looks down at you. For the first time since you’ve met, he makes eye contact. There’s a horizontal line drawn across his face, just under his eyes, with what you assume is make-up, but you’re only able to study it up close for a second before his expression crumples. He backs up, pressing his back flat against the furthest wall—which doesn’t get him very far in such a cramped closet—while his eyes frantically dart over your tattered costume. Then he looks down, staring at the dirty floor beneath his feet. It doesn’t appear that his mental state has improved since you found him.

“Hey, are you okay?” you ask softly, speaking as if you were trying to not spook a stray animal. His hands are gripping the sides of his pants. He must’ve seen something terrible in the commotion above ground.

You try something else. “What’s your name?” you whisper. Hopefully this question is easier to answer and you can work on calming the poor man down.

He doesn’t meet your gaze as he mutters once again.

“What was that?” you say, taking a minuscule step forward.

Thankfully, the movement doesn't startle him, but he stays curled into himself when he answers. “Choso Kamo,” he says.

You introduce yourself, and though he gives you a few quick looks, he can’t keep his eyes on you as you speak. He must be really freaked out. “I know this is a traumatic situation, Choso,” you say, “I’m not going to hurt you, I just want to make you feel better.”

Choso shifts his weight, keeping his eyes trained on the ground. “You’re making me feel weird,” he replies.

You furrow your brow. Out of the two of you, you’re definitely the one acting the most normal. “I’m sorry,” you say, folding your arms over your black corset—it's a miracle it stayed up after all that running. “We’ll only have to be here until everything dies down. Then you won’t have to see me again.”

“It’s not like that,” he says, fidgeting with the sleeve of his costume. He glances at you. His pale face is flushed pink. “The feeling feels…good.”

Now you’re puzzled. “…okay?”

“Can I…can I try something?” he asks.

Well, at least he’s talking now. And he seems to have calmed down, making him less likely to do something stupid and get both of you killed. It's a good idea to keep him this way, make sure he stays relaxed and reassured.

So you agree. “Um…sure,” you respond.

The yellow light flickers.

Choso takes a step forward, a step that crosses the entirety of the small closet, and lays a big hand on your shoulder. You lost the cape of your ‘sexy vampire costume’ in the commotion, so your shoulder is bare; it can directly feel the roughness and warmth of his hands.

“It feels good to…touch you,” he breathes. He turns his attention from your shoulder to your eyes, “and look at you, too.”

You shudder; his gaze is heavy. This…isn’t what you expected.

“I thought I was scaring you,” you say, looking down. There's a few bottles of cleaning supplies scattered on the floor.

“A little bit,” he says, working it out as he speaks, “I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s so intense.”

That’s when you notice how strong his grip on your shoulder is, not tight enough to bruise, but enough to communicate a possessiveness. A desire for more. You flick your eyes back up to him, evaluating. He is good-looking, and the expression he has on his face as he waits for your response—cheeks flushed and mouth slightly ajar in gentle pants—is stirring up something warm in your stomach.

You place your hand on his chest. Oh, how his heart is pounding. “You really don’t know what’s going on?” you ask.

He looks down at your hand, then back to you. “I-I don’t, just that…your hand feels so warm and nice.”

You smile a little, tilting your head. “It seems that you’re attracted to me.”

“I didn’t know that was possible–for me to be attracted to someone,” Choso responds. You laugh to yourself, is this guy an alien or something? Maybe that’s what his costume is. Alien or not, he’s still cute.

“Congrats on the revelation,” you say, dropping your hand.

Choso takes a moment to ponder, and you watch with amusement. This interaction doesn’t seem real. Well, this whole situation doesn’t seem real. You hope everything will blow over soon. You’re trying not to catastrophize, to think worse case scenario. And this—

“Are you…attracted to me?” Choso asks.

—is a good distraction.

“You’re handsome,” you say. “I don’t know you that well yet, but I think we are getting off to a good start.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, breathless. He’s trying not to, but his gaze is roaming what he can make out of your body in the dim light. There’s probably a lot to see due to how much your vampire costume already reveals and that parts of it were lost in the scramble for safety.

“Do you want me to keep touching you?” you ask, coy. His breath hitches at the idea.

“If…if it feels good for you too,” Choso responds.

“It does,” you say, taking the final step to have your chest pressing against his. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, hovering your lips just a millimeter away from a kiss. “It feels really good to me.”

He leans forward, not able to bear another second without, but just before he can get that release, you lean back.

He voices his frustration wordlessly and you giggle. “So desperate, aren’t you?”

“You’re teasing me,” he says, a whine in his voice.

“I’ll make it up to you,” you say, bringing your lips to the side of his neck. Choso gasps, a sweet sound, and when you open your mouth, licking a stripe on his skin, his fingers squeeze your waist.

“Fuck,” he says, breath shaky. Enjoying his reactions, you begin to suck on his skin, earning another swear and no doubt leaving a mark. You push yourself into him, and his back hits the wall, his chin raised, exposing more of his neck to be kissed.

With your body flat against his, it’s easy to feel the hardness beneath his waist. He's so eager; you only kissed him a few times. You slide your hand past his collarbone, down his chest, slender but strong, down to just above his aching erection.

Choso is caught off guard. “What are you”—you palm it—“ngh…shit, that feels so…”

“You like it?” you ask, proud because you already know the answer. His eyes are pressed shut as he nods.

“Use your words,” you say, squeezing his erection—he winces—“and I’ll make you feel even better.”

You continue to rub your hand over the erection pushing through his robe in slow, circular strokes as he forces himself to speak. “Yes, I—ah—like it—a lot.”

“So good,” you tell him. The simple praise makes his dick twitch against your palm.

Your eyes flick down to his white pants, billowing in fabric. You tug at it, but it doesn’t move.

“It’s–uh–all one thing.” He blushes, the color prominent on his pale cheeks. “Do you want me to take it off?”

You nod, and he clumsily pulls off his purple and white robe. You still haven’t been able to place what he’s dressed up as, but you don’t offer that thought another second when Choso stands in front of you, naked and impatiently waiting for whatever it is you'll do to him next.

You don’t deprive him long, stepping forward and running your fingers over his bare chest. Yes, you were able to feel how strong he was when you had your body pressed against his, but being able to see the defined ridges of his torso makes his strength unquestionable. He shivers under your fingers, needing more, needing you to touch him lower than you are.

“Can you…?” He’s squirming against the wall, looking down at you with needy eyes. “Sorry, it just feels so,” he exhales, the breath uneven, “so good.”

“Yeah?” you say, wrapping your hand around his length. It’s hot and throbbing. “You want me to touch you here?”

“Yes,” he whimpers, “There. Please.”

You begin to move your hand up and down his erection in a loose fist, spreading the precum dripping from his tip down his length, and adding some of your spit to coat it completely. Choso’s head falls back against the wall and he meets your hand with shallow thrusts of his hips.

“You’re so sensitive,” you notice. He’s reacting so sweetly to your every movement, every soft swipe of your thumb over his tip, every kiss you press to his neck as you stroke him. “I like it.”

You like it enough to get on your knees on the cold, hard closet floor, and position his length in front of your mouth, just so you can get even more of a reaction from him.

“What?” Choso gasps, “What are you doing?”

“Making you feel good,” you coo, pumping him a few more times—which quickly stops the questions and starts the moans—and then take him into your mouth.

He spasms, hand tangling in your hair, unsure of whether he should pull you away or push you further down on him.

“You’re so warm…and wet,” Choso gets out.

You hum your response, something that only makes him tighten the strong fingers knotted into your hair, and keep going, working your mouth around his dick. You wrap your hands around the backs of his thighs, bracing yourself as you take him in deeper with every bob of your head. He fills your throat significantly, so you take a few breaks, kissing and sucking on his tip as you catch your breath.

Choso doesn’t seem to mind that it’s hard to take his full length, he’s too busy writhing from the sensation of your mouth on him. He's new to all this, not able to process or understand what you're doing and why it feels so fucking good. But explanations don't matter, not when the pretty girl in the outfit that made him hot just from looking at it is on her knees for him, dedicated to blessing him with a pleasure that doesn't belong to this universe.

“Fuck, please–ah–keep going, feels so good.”

Choso's moans are filling the closet and he’s holding onto you for dear life. His thighs are shaking enough to make you worry his legs will give out. “Feel like I’m gonna die,” he murmurs, lost in pleasure.

You’d smile in victory if you weren’t so focused on getting him there, and with the way he’s tensing up, he’s close. It’s funny, how he’s gonna cum already; he must’ve been worked up from the beginning.

You dig your fingers into the thick muscle of his thighs, holding on as he takes over, placing his hands on the side of your head to keep you still, and sloppily slipping his length in and out of your mouth. You squeeze your eyes shut, and it’s obvious that you’re taking him well because he’s choking on his own moans, incoherent as he slurs his words.

“I can’t–fuck–oh–please–please–”

A final thrust into your mouth and his hot cum is pouring down your throat. It’s salty, but you’re able to swallow it, coughing a little as he pulls himself out of you. Then his strong arms come down under your armpits and lift you to your feet as if you weighed nothing. He pulls you into his body, gasping and shuddering as he recovers from the orgasm. Poor thing.

You press gentle kisses on his collarbone, soothing him. “You’re okay, Choso. You did so good.”

“Really?” Choso responds, his face nuzzled in your shoulder. He presses a small kiss there.

“Mhmm,” you affirm, smoothing his tied-up hair.

A rumble shakes the ground beneath you.

You swear, taking a step back to see the makeshift barricade you set up come crashing to the ground. Someone enters the closet.

You hold Choso’s arm tight. Surely you're dead now. Who the fuck is this dude? He’s in a weird costume too, possibly a movie villain because he has stitches all along his skin, even all over his face.

“Ah, Choso! There you are!” The patch-faced man is indifferent to Choso’s lack of clothing. He regards you, his grin unsettling. “And you have a friend.”

Choso’s face darkens, “She’s mine.”

“So territorial!” The intruder leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms. “I wasn’t gonna do anything…not to a friend of yours.” His words are lined with a playful deceit. “I’ll find someone else to have fun with.”

He turns on his heel, but before he leaves he says, “One more thing! Does this mean you’re out of our little game? Occupied with”—his slimy gaze oozes over you—“something else?”

“You’re not to lay a hand on Yuji Itadori,” Choso states, narrowing his eyes.

“No way! Guess you'll have to stop me then!” the man jeers, grinning like a bratty child as he disappears from the doorframe.

Choso turns to you. “I need to go help my brother…but not before I get you somewhere safe,” he says. Choso dresses quickly as you watch in a dumbfounded silence. What the fuck is going on?

He wraps a heavy arm around you and leads you out of the closet into the destroyed Shibuya station.

“Trust me, I’ll take care of you.”

Unable to make sense of anything that’s going on, you have no choice but to believe him.

[playerninth]

BUTTERFLIES (2 A.M VERSION) + smut mdni

non idol!jiung x fem!reader

彡 — an unexpected storm crashes your night, and thank god you and jiung managed to get to the car before the rain’s turned heavy. yet when the train station you’ve asked him to drop you off to was surprisingly under construction from a system malfunction—you’re left with no choice but to stay the night over at your boyfriend’s place.

author’s note: i was in the middle of writing something for jongseob yesterday... until i opened twitter and oh my fucking god jiung looked so damn fine on live i almost wanted to eat a boulder. hence i present to you, this fic! also i love everything domestic and fluffy when it comes to jiung so that's how it is for the first part of this fic <3

word count: 4.5k

warnings: established relationship. cunnilingus, blowjob that turns into 69 (woah there), squirting, mentions of his tattoo

"y/n, you've been looking at me weird ever since i stepped foot in this restaurant." you almost choked at a meatball as you tried to laugh his words off, blinking in a frenzy because he must've caught you staring at him so intensely, pupils blown out, for the nth time this evening.

"yeah, um... sorry, it's just—it's just because you look really good tonight!"

you fiddle your fork around your pasta, surprised that only a sentence escaped your throat despite the whirlwind of thoughts in your head—his jet black hair falling over his face, his complementary full brows, down to his lips that are irresistibly a tinge of pink that you almost wanna reach over the table and kiss him. jiung's always so effortlessly charming that you might as well melt in your seat then and there.

"what kind of excuse is that… come on and eat your food, the way you sounded from your texts earlier, it must've been a really tiring day at work, am i right?" he utters, ever so caring like you never leave his mind. although the restaurant held a cozy, dimly lit atmosphere during dinner, you could still glimpse at how his brown blazer perfectly frames his broad shoulders and the white shirt from beneath that rumbles with every laugh echoing in his chest. you're only broken from your trance when he raises his fork strung with the pasta, urging you to have a taste.

"mhm. remind me to order this one the next time we come back." you gesture a finger over his plate, breaking into a subtle smile when you feel the pad of his thumb wipe away the sauce by the side of your lip.

frankly, you couldn't wait for when another date like this would follow, serving as your only savior from consecutive taxing days at work. jiung's constant texts and calls could only do so much for your pent-up frustration when missing him.

dinner wound up faster than you would like it to be. dejection was painted all over you as he walked you toward his car with his hand resting on the small of your back.

“jiung, could you just drop me off at the train station?” you spoke up once he unlocked the car, opening the passenger seat for you.

he hurriedly runs over to the other side of the car, the subtle patter of raindrops on the windshield hooking your attention. “there’s no need for that, i’ll drive you back to your apartment.”

“but… it’s going to get really late since you’re going to have to drive back to yours. aren’t you tired from work as well?” you turn to him after fastening your seatbelt.

“i’ll never be tired when it comes to you y/n.” his reply sent a flutter through your chest, struggling to take your eyes off his figure while he focused on the road before him.

it’s like he always knows the right words to make your heart skip a beat.

though it’s proved to be quite a challenge in your relationship to be living in apartments that are a distance apart from each other, jiung’s never acted like it’s such an inconvenience for him, always as admirably unfazed and composed as the first time you fell for him.

“no, really… babe, you’ve already done so much for me this evening. i can manage on my own.” you firmly press on, his hand trailing down to shortly caress your thigh before going back to the steering wheel.

“if you say so then~ i’m always a call away if you need me, alright?”

the drizzle from before had long brewed into a storm as the raindrops now rattle harshly against the glass. jiung’s driving a lot more carefully now, the night stretching out more than ever. at this point, he wanted to pose his offer to you from earlier. there’s no way he’s going to let you out on your own in this raging weather.

“good thing we already got in the car before the rain worsened,” he mumbles, preparing to take a turn to the right as you near the train station.

you begin shuffling in your seat to ready your bag and an umbrella until you're met with the sight of clamor right outside the train station. scanning outside your window, it's unfortunate how dozens of people appear stranded, trying to catch a ride from cabs.

“this station’s apparently closed for the meantime, there’s something they have to fix. and… i guess it’s taking longer than usual because of the rain.” you turn back to your boyfriend, face lit from the glow of his phone as he scrolls through local news.

you slump back into your seat, watching him maneuver the car back onto the road.

“are you really sure you’re okay driving all the way to my place? i could pay for the gas.” you offer, tipping your head slightly to the side.

“there’s no need for that—”

“please, jiung… it’s the least i could do for tonight…” you further beg, reaching out a hand over his arm, enough to not disturb him while he drives.

“hmm… my apartment isn’t as far from here, compared to yours. you know you could always stay the night with me? then i’ll just drive you to your workplace the following morning.”

you look away, pondering for a minute. “i’d love to be with you longer for tonight, but it’s not like you don’t have work tomorrow either. you’d drive twice as far since mine’s the opposite way as yours.”

jiung huffs out a quick sigh. “if only i wasn’t driving right now, i’d probably be pinching your cheeks until you just let me take care of you.” you let out a laugh at his words, your gaze following the trickle of the rain down the window.

“...and why wouldn’t i wanna do it if it means i’ll get to start my mornings with you.”

there he goes again, kindling a flicker of rush through your heart, ultimately letting him have the final word.

it was a comfortable silence for the rest of the ride, finding yourself at jiung's apartment in no time. the storm still hadn't quelled as the evening progressed, yet it felt much cozier within the confines of your boyfriend's bedroom as you waited for him to finish his shower.

you were quite surprised he hadn't asked you to bathe together—usually enjoying how he gets to do the scrubbing for you while occasionally leaving kisses despite the soap suds on your body.

jiung let you enter his apartment first, especially since you already have a copy of his keys, letting you know he'd also come right after since he's gonna check something in his car for a short while.

you were in the middle of getting dressed when you feel yourself getting engulfed into a warm hug, his perfume partly replaced with the smell of his body wash. it's not difficult to anticipate the gentle kisses that follow, and the familiar trail of jiung's lips from the back of your head, trailing towards your shoulder before finally resting his chin on it to try and peck your cheek next.

as he does so, you squirm within his grip, erupting into a chuckle. "at least let me get fully dressed first," you playfully banter, sliding into a pair of shorts and a shirt you've left at his place from times you've slept over from before.

you perch on the bed afterward, further scooting backward once he kneels on the mattress as well, toppling his figure over yours and rendering you immobile.

"jiung, what're you—" you struggle talking when he settles his weight over you, his arms sneaking beneath your body in a tight embrace. "let's stay like this for a while."

truly, there's no such thing as 'a while' for jiung. not a single bone of subtlety in his body when he wants to get it known to you that he wants something. he's boldly nuzzling his face impossibly closer into the crook of your neck, his tongue darting out, warm like a spark against your skin.

similarly, his hand runs over your body. snaking a hand past your hip, shamelessly brushing into your inner thigh before retreating once he's drawn a gasp from your throat. your fingers cling tightly to his shoulder, his wet lips still busy on your neck, resuming his brazen movements from your waist over to the swell of your breast, fondling rather harshly until he pinches your nipple through the fabric.

you're startled when you emit a strained whine, turning hazy by the minute. "what is it now jiung..."

the mattress dips shortly when he pulls away, his touch unwavering as his hands reach down to lace through yours. "i wanted to offer to massage you since you were probably tired from today, but..."

his words dwindle once his eyes come into focus, your body lying vulnerable underneath him. though his shadow's cast over you, it felt like you had his gaze spellbound from how he struggled to turn away. meeting the sight of your parted lips heaving out light breaths, your hair, disheveled, almost sorry because he knows you just finished showering. yet when his eyes flicker down to your bare tummy peeking below the hem of your shirt, he knows there's no turning back for him anymore.

"i could see you're getting other ideas than... that."

jiung clears his throat at your words, blinking away from his trance.

"i would be the happiest if you let me." he's playfully fiddling with your fingers, eager to hear a reply. "i want to let you relax, i know you're spent from today."

you hold your tongue, watching as he approaches the edge of the bed while his hands shift to rest over your thighs. he takes it up a mile when he completely rises, leaving the bed to kneel on the floor, his hands firmly grasping onto your flesh before pulling you closer to him as he could.

you couldn't resist a gasp from his abrupt pull, desperately dragging your shorts off, leaving the garment to get lost on the floor.

it's tough to find the right words when jiung's swift to splay his hands over the plush of your thighs once more, watching as your legs fall apart before him. your breath is caught in your throat when his gentle eyes flicker to lock onto yours, yet you feel much more exposed when he's got you in such a vulgar position. however, his gaze isn't one to expect a reply drawn from you, knowing full well you're only capable of noises and whines at your abashed state.

"mhm..." the sensation of his hum on your skin vibrates like electricity through your veins, beginning a languid pace of nipping over the expanse of your inner thigh. it's so obscene that if it weren't for the barrier your panties served, jiung's met with the sight of your pussy, hole pulsating with a drip of your glistening arousal. you couldn't know for sure if it's already seeped a damp spot through the fabric.

as you peered down, you couldn’t refrain from tugging on a tuft of his hair, a desperate attempt to hurry him. he remained resolute nevertheless, eyes shut tight as he focused on your thighs hooked over his shoulders. it felt like his hot kisses were promptly rising closer to your clothed cunt, doubting that it may just be your imagination until you’re shaken out of your reverie from an unexpected sting.

you glance down once more, only now realizing your head has been thrown back against the mattress. jiung’s finger pulls the hem of your panties taut before letting it snap again, ripping a whine from your chest.

"i want you to keep your eyes on me though,” your heartbeat mirrors the harsh patter of raindrops against the bedroom window, bringing you back down to earth. much like the raging storm brewing outside, the surge of desire pooling in your stomach heightened your senses.

“miss the way you taste." he ends his sentence, nudging his nose against your clothed pussy, moving upward to bump ever so slightly on your clit as you let out a lazy mewl.

jiung licks you through your panties, the tip of his tongue prodding and prodding as he tries to trace tantalizingly around your hole. he replaces it with the flat of his tongue headily dragging up until he feels the bump of your clit on his wet muscle and promptly sucks.

“ahh… fuck, jiung…” you’re melting into bliss once he encloses his lips around your bud tight, suckling wet and hungry as if it were his oasis. continuously flicking his warm tongue repeatedly, watching your legs shudder when all of a sudden he stops, leaving you hanging out of nowhere.

you’re whining out, brows narrowed as you crack from your pleasured daze. “why’d you stop?” he winces from your harsh pull on his scalp, refusing to meet your eyes. you didn’t miss the grin he had on his lips, shiny from spit and you wish he would’ve just dived back in already.

yet he’s just teasingly thumbing through your panties, remaining wordless as you buck your hips up, desperate for the slightest touch of the pad of his finger on your clit.

"jiung... just take it off, please—i don’t know what you’re even waiting for anymore." you cry out, voice punctuated in tones of impatience.

"i want to hear you say that you want this as much as i do. can you do it for me?" he asks, painstakingly swirling a thumb over your swollen bud.

"yes! yes, jiung please…” he feels his cock twitch from your needy sobs, fingers already trailing toward the hem of your panties. “just eat me out, please, jiung… i want your tongue on me!”

that was all it took for him to pull your legs together, raised, so he could slide your panties off before letting your thighs rest over his shoulders once more.

you could feel his breath fanning against your bare folds, raking your nails over the sheets in anticipation. whilst jiung had an arm draped over one of your thighs, his other hand reached closer to your cunt, his thumb tugging lightly so he could get a better view—just enough so he could drag the flat of his tongue over your sweet cunny, flicking the tip as he reaches your clit.

“no matter how many times i eat you out,” he utters, shortly licking a strip before finishing his words. “just can’t seem to get enough of you.”

it was the last you’ve heard of jiung before he began a pace of rapid kitten licks over your sensitive clit, your hand flying towards his hair once he encloses his lips over your bud and sucks, wetly—making your knees tremble as they lay hung over his frame.

he lay still, hunched over your lower body as he works you into ecstasy, a medley of languidly swirling his wet muscle around your clit and switching to firm, fast licks until he’s had you writhing and sobbing out his name in a chant. he heaves you down, carefully lapping over the slick of your folds and your hole, ultimately burying his face further between your thighs as he delves his tongue into the hole of your cunny.

you’re such a mess, falling apart as he lets your arousal collect on his tongue, moaning when he feels the plush of your walls clamp around him, overwhelmingly making you fuck yourself against his mouth when his nose bumps over your swollen clit.

and just when you couldn’t fathom what else he could do to render you pliant from the meager use of his mouth, jiung forcefully grasps your thighs spread, effortlessly slipping a finger into your cunt as his lips move to latch over your clit and abuse it with his tongue.

“oh, god. jiung—feels so fucking good,” the air within his bedroom felt intoxicating as you let yourself succumb to pleasure. the constant suckling of his mouth matched the noise of his slender finger sinking into your cunny, slick, filthy noises turning the atmosphere heated by the minute.

close, close, you’re so fucking close. the repeated squelch of your gushing pussy felt humiliating, your heart hammering as you let out ragged moans between calls of his name. no one else could see you in such a helpless, embarrassing state, driven mad over his bed. the same bed he’s touched himself to the thought of pleasuring you to his utmost desire.

and now he’s doing it to you once more.

jiung slips in another finger, groaning around your swollen bud when he realizes how wet he’s made of you from the patch of arousal that’s pooled onto his sheets. continuing the thrusts of his digits into your cunny, watching the way you engulf him through your folds. and he just curls—curls his fingers knowing you’d begin rutting up to his mouth eager for release.

“want it, want it, want it, jiung—please!” you sob out, almost as if tears were welling at the corners of your eyes as you couldn’t stop yourself from breathily moaning in chase of your high, cheeks burning in bliss.

he’ll never say a word, at least not for now, but it fuels his ego that he’s the only one who could topple you over the edge—out of your mind as he finds your g-spot and prods his fingers there, staying, almost making out with your cunt from the way he’s sucking even more that he wants the cord in you to snap, just groaning flush against your swollen bud as he thrusts his digits impossibly faster—his chin slick with your arousal as he receives for more, feeling you cum all over his fingers getting sucked further into the squeeze of your cunt and trying to push his head away even though your thighs are clamped tight over his cheeks.

it was then when he pulled away from your trembling figure, he took in your spent image that fell apart on his bed, your fingers numb while your legs lay limp as your moans died down along with your high. he kisses your clit once more, maybe even the last time he would when he feels the weak push of your hand on his forehead.

“no more…” you softly spoke, meeting his eyes again when he hovers over you on his bed, admiring the gorgeous angel he’s turned blissed out of their mind.

fuck. he knows for sure, yours is the prettiest pussy he’s ever tasted and will ever pleasure.

jiung moves in an attempt to fetch you a glass of water, yet he doesn’t even make it out of the bed when he feels you tug on his fingertips, flashing you a questioning expression.

“jiung, you’re hard.”

it was from your words that he came back to his senses, the bulge in his shorts serving quite the trouble, although he doesn’t want to bother you further.

“don’t worry about it y/n, you don’t have to do anything about it.” you almost wanted to curse at him, from how selfless he’s been treating you ever since the evening began, but all you could muster was to rest on your elbows.

“no, no. let me, please. after all you’ve done for me tonight…” you urge him to position himself closer to the headboard, recalling how he’s paid for dinner, drove you around, and… made you cum in the span of one night. “the least you could let me do is to return the favor.”

“alright then, but… i’d like to make a simple request.” you raise your gaze toward him, awaiting an answer as you straddle his body while his head softly hits the pillow.

“i couldn’t have you leaning over like that.”

he gestures towards your knees, still trembling from the afterglow of your orgasm.

he hurriedly rids himself off his shirt, followed by the rest of his undergarments. it was only then that you remembered the tattooed butterflies over his torso, ever so sultry, leading down further until you’re met with the sight of his cock, tip leaky and begging to get pleasured.

“you can sit on me while you…” he struggles to string his words together, anticipating the shocked look on your face as he holds his arms out for you to reach closer.

“jiung… i'm still a little bit sensitive from earlier i don’t think i can handle another—”

“don't worry baby, i'm not gonna touch you! i mean, i will touch you… but i’ll just keep my hands on your thighs. i promise.”

and so you shift at his words, straddling his chest as you lean over to the direction of his cock. it’s such a shameful position to be solely sucking him off with your ass so close to his face, especially now that his touch is ghosting over your thighs, keeping you snug in place.

he’s been needy for the longest this evening despite choosing to be such a giver, heavily panting out the moment he feels your tongue swipe over his slit. fuck, the swirl of your wet muscle dragging over his heavy tip was something he’s never realized he’d been yearning for, his breath hitching, fading into a groan when you finally engulf as much of him as you can in your warm mouth.

he’s heavy on your tongue, yet all you could wish for was for him to not moan out so seductively distracting. your hole’s clenching around nothing at this point, trying to focus on the way you sloppily wrapped his cock with your mouth as you bobbed your head.

“ahh… y/n, fuck—more.” you couldn’t resist getting aroused once again, especially from the way he was moaning your name out so passionately, the rumble of his chest from constant groans traveling straight to your core, a familiar surge burning up within your tummy.

and where else would jiung look at aside from your ass, right in front of him, his piercing gaze descending to your cunt. although his eyes could've been shut tight from the pleasure, he'd still feel you, slick dripping down just an inch past his collarbones.

it's like you're testing him on purpose. he doesn't want to break his promise to you, even though he badly wants to latch his mouth on your cunny once more with abandon. he can't help it, nails digging crescents on the flesh of your thigh as his breathing grew ragged, dragging him back to the present as he has to deal with the constant slobber of your sucking and the lewd image of your cunt.

it must mean you're aroused though, if your pussy's making such a wet mess over him. regardless if it were a mix of his spit and your orgasm from earlier, currently oozing out, his mind's running on nothing but his need for you.

he just can't help it. you weren't sure what to make of the sudden apologies jiung uttered simultaneously at your messy eating, unintentionally hollowing your cheeks at his rough pull towards his mouth, ultimately latching his lips over your folds for the second time.

"mhmph—jiung, i told you!" you cry out, pulling away from his length with a string of spit connected to your bottom lip, glistening. your mind wandered back into pleasure as you still tried to keep your furious pace of stroking his cock, despite your mind turning cloudy from the repeated lapping of his tongue on your clit—knowing full well you're still recovering from your climax not too long ago.

oh, but god, he didn't have to be so good at eating you out that you're shamelessly bucking your hips, trying to meet the way his tongue darts out towards your folds.

you tried your hardest to take him into your mouth once more, but you just couldn't keep a steady pace. your fist looked helpless, stroking him erratically while you're left tearfully moaning out as he lets you ride his face in a rush of lust. working each other towards the edge of climax, as you rut over him.

from an outside perspective, it would seem it was just you falling apart, vision blurring as you relished the flicking of jiung's tongue on your sensitive clit, your grip loosening on his cock—'til you're left clawing over his tattooed butterflies in pure bliss.

you're choking out sobs at this point, no doubt nearing your orgasm by the second. oh, but there's just something quite different with the way the spring in your tummy coils tight, your veins growing much hotter as the only thing you could hear was the pounding of your heart in your ears.

"ohhh, fuck—jiung, jiung, can't!" he anticipates the tremble rushing through the plush of your thighs, burying the tip of his tongue into your cunny before he's met with an abrupt wetness splattering all over his chin, warm on his neck and a sticky splotch on the sheets—god, you're just giving him more reasons to wanna ravish you further.

and if there's one thing he's been dreaming of, he didn't expect it would be such a hot sight for you to squirt all over him, almost feeling like his fingertips held a spark as he worked you through your messy high.

“that was…hot, oh… fuck, y/n...” he curses through his breath, unexpectedly cumming just from watching you fall apart and squirting all over him. it was unfortunate how he couldn’t see the way he released all over your face, your lips stricken with his sticky cum as you attempt to lick the sides of your mouth clean before your head falls back over his torso in an attempt to clean the cum off the tattoo.

silence fell upon the room, and at this point the storm had fizzled down a little bit, almost finding yourself drawn to slumber until jiung gently flipped you over, your back against his soft mattress.

“i’ll be right back, alright?” you could almost make out the image of your boyfriend through your heavy lids, his chin and chest dripping wet—embarrassingly because of you.

yet time blurred out of your control as you couldn’t even feel ashamed about it, only to shortly wake up in freshly replaced sheets and clothes, your chest to the mattress.

the cozy smell of vanilla wafts through the room, a subtle glow at the corner of your eye from the candle over his dresser.

jiung really pushed through with his words, his hands gentle yet firm as he massages the muscles on your back, almost feeling yourself doze back to sleep as he quells each ache with his movements.

“feel better now baby?”

he notices you’ve finally woken up, leaning down to press a soft kiss over your shoulder before resuming his massages.

“you must’ve felt really exhausted, i’m sorry… i couldn’t help myself. i’ll try to hold myself back, next time.”

you reply with a low hum, closing your eyes to focus on relaxing under your touch.

yet knowing jiung and his persistent attitude—coupled with the first time he’s made you squirt, you’re certain he’s miserably going to fail in trying to stay true to his words.

…but is it really that bad if he’s making you feel good though?

— a/n: you've made it this far... thank you for reading my debut fic on tumblr! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and i would love to hear your thoughts as well!

[penumbra-mayhem]

Snow, Tile, Cloth

Three times Tank bleeds out, inspired by this post.

angst/hurt/comfort // <1k words

(TW: gore, blood, violence, car crash, suicidal ideation)

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Snow

During Tank’s first Winter Solstice with the Shaw Pack, Gabe decides to rent a series of cabins up in the mountains. Tank’s never been on a pack run before, and they’ve certainly never run in the snow. Excitement overloads their brain. They don’t even realize they’ve strayed from the pack until they’re crying out to no one at the bottom of a ravine. One misstep, one patch of ice, was all it took. Tank lies in the snow for only ten minutes before someone hears them, but in their young, frenzied mind it feels like hours. They remember watching the crimson blood seep from their open leg fracture into the stark white powder and thinking, If I’m not found, will all of me eventually bleed into the snow? 

Tile

The first week Tank returns to Dahlia, they’re jumped. A vamp who’d been wronged by Quinn recognizes Tank and decides to send Quinn a message, thinking they’re still with him. The fight is brutal, both of them fueled by revenge and both underestimating the other. In the end, the vamp runs off, certain his point has been made. Tank somehow makes it back to their apartment and scrambles for supplies, of which there are none. But they can’t call anyone. Nobody knows Tank is back; they have to guarantee the pack’s safety from Quinn before telling anyone. So they settle on stanching their wounds with bath towels and old shirts, scarlet drops splattering onto the white bathroom floor. As they lie there, drifting in and out of consciousness, they wonder: If I die, will they ever be able to get the blood off these tiles?

Cloth

Tank Darlin’ is driving to Sam’s house one night when a coyote runs into their path. They swerve to avoid it and lose control of their bike, spilling out onto the asphalt. Luckily, they’re wearing a helmet, but, despite Sam’s continual pleas to wear proper gear, Darlin’ is dressed in a hoodie and cargo pants. Their body is ripped to shreds. Moving feels like agony, so they just lie on their back, gasping for the air that’s been knocked from their lungs. Eventually they hear a truck approach, it’s rumble familiar. Before they know it, Sam is scooping them into his arms. He’d been watching their location on his phone and noticed they’d stopped. As he heals the acres of road rash covering their skin, Darlin’ tries to push away. They’re staining his white shirt red. As Sam pulls them back in, crying out that he doesn’t care, that they’re more important than a damn shirt, Darlin’ thinks, I want to outlive the blood that spills from me. I want to last longer than the stains in this cloth.

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thanks for reading!! tags below <3

@lookitseddie & @breezysuffers, since yall seemed maybe interested? (pls ignore this if u weren't tho!)

[revelboo]

just a quick question! Because ive thoroughly been enjoying the humans interacting after so long which has made me question if the more closely knit boys who have humans might have their humans interact? (Everything Is Alright + Alcohol eyes are prime examples since the cassettes and sound wave) And I found it cute both humans just waved seeing eachother!❤️

Soundwave and his gremlin twins would absolutely let their humans interact. Star might let the human interact with Skywarp and Thundercracker’s under very close supervision.

Alcohol Eyes Pt 12

IDW Rumble x Reader, Frenzy x Reader

• After meeting the family and listening to the gossip, you’re a bit overwhelmed. Leaning against Rumble as he and Frenzy excitedly talk about what all they want done to the habsuite with all the excitement of first time homeowners as the first shadows of doubt start slipping in. Their huge dad and little siblings had finally left to go do whatever it is alien robots do, letting you three settle in. Alone with them again, nerves thrumming through you, you’re starting to wonder if this is really okay. Just running away to spend your days playing pillow princess for a couple of aliens whose horny matches your own. It’s not like you don’t realize how impulsive you can be, that you act first and think about repercussions later. They’d asked you to go home with them and you’d said yes without hesitation. Without asking what all that entails. “You’re unusually quiet,” Rumble whispers, cheek brushing the top of your head.

• “It’s just a lot,” you say, smiling up at him. Hopes you’re not having second thoughts already about choosing him and Frenzy. About staying, because at this point he’s not sure he could let you go even if you asked. Wants to keep you. Get to know you, because really your body and your humor are all he knows at this point, your hopes, your dreams all a mystery to him. Sliding his arm tighter around you to palm your hip, his attention slides to his twin. They just need to convince you with their mouths, hands, and bodies to stay, erase whatever doubts you have, because he can’t give you up. He won’t.

• Looking over from inspecting the default berth set into the wall, Frenzy finds you and Rumble and a shiver of need trips through him seeing you in his twin’s arms. Loving the way you fit against them, so much smaller than they are. Making him feel less small when he’s so used to being looked down on by other Cybertronians, dismissed because of his size. That resentment and anger at how he’s treated banked around you. “I think we need to break in the new habsuite,” he calls out and Rumble smiles slowly, onboard with that plan. Laughing as Rumble sweeps you tighter against his frame and bends you backwards, mouth covering yours. Slipping up behind you, his mouth finds your neck as his hips rock against you, pinning you between them.

• And just like that, you’re all heat and need again. Feel Frenzy’s hands on your hips, boosting you up and you hook your legs around Rumble’s waist. Because this is better than worrying. Just want to ignore the looming consequences until they come crashing down on you. And you’re really hoping their dad locked the door when he left and that he doesn’t come back for anything and find you banging his sons. Rumble’s mouth is a demand against yours, claiming as his servos fight your clothes with zero patience. Hear your shirt rip and you nip him in reprimand. But you know there’s no slowing either of them down. Frenzy’s grinding against you, worming his hands between you and Rumble, servos sliding down the front of your pants.

• Groans when you loop your arms around his neck, moving against him and realizing Frenzy has his hand under your covering, petting and stroking. And your soft mouth brushes along his jaw with a breathy sound. Don’t even have a berth their size set up yet, but it doesn’t seem to matter as he stumbles back a step going to his knees. Laughing as Frenzy topples them over so he’s sprawled under you and his twin is braced over both of you, grinning. “We need easier access coverings,” Frenzy growls, pressing his face against the back of your neck, fighting with the closures on your coverings as you laugh, soft hands swatting at his to help him strip you.

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[bird-in-the-space]

Painting Incident 5#

You, Skywarp, and the twins end up in a troublesome situation after getting kidnapped by the Quintessons. Luckily, you have an idea how to get yourself and your friends out of it.

Warnings: Big booms.

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*Inside a Quintesson ship, you, Skywarp, Frenzy and Rumble run away from Quintessons after escaping your prison cells.*

*You come to a room and block the door, causing the green monstrosities to slam against it.*

You: *Look around but found no exit in the room.*

Skywarp: Frag! It's a deadend!

*The Quintessons slam against the door, trying to break in.*

Rumble: *Scared* What should we do?

You: *Silently panicking* Uh… I don't know!

*The Quintessons shriek behind the door as they ram against it.*

Skywarp: *Points an accusing finger at you.* I'm never gonna join in your paint hunts again after this!

You: How was I supposed to know they would suddenly kidnap us?!

*Before*

You: *Walking across the terrain.* Come on guys, the ore should be right around here.

Frenzy & Rumble: *gigling as they follow you.*

Skywarp: *Following behind you and the twins* I get why Starscream asked me to join you for your protection. The surface is pretty dangerous with the Quintessons around, but why are the twins here?

You: They asked to join, and I couldn't say no. And technically, I do need their help in mining the ore I'm looking for.

Skywarp: Did Soundwave gave you permission? He's usually pretty protective of his minicons.

You: Meh. You know I have a soft spot for kids. And besides Soundwave has eyes and ears all around Cybertron, he would have stopped us before we left if he thought the twins wouldn't be safe with me.

Skywarp: Figures. Anyway, what kind of rock are we looking for that we have to come all over here?

You: Oh, it's a type of ore that grows near the fire rivers. It's mostly used for fuel, but carefully handled -- it can be used for paint.

Skywarp: Hold up. We're on a paint hunt?

You: Actually, Alchemist asked me to retrieve some of it because we're out of stock. He mostly uses it to experiment with different explosives because its incredibly combustible due to the environment where it grows. But I found out it's mineral can be turned to paint which can give a unique texture, and if you want an art piece with burnt effect, carefully handled you can use it to create burning art.

Skywarp:*Chuckles* Okay nerd.

Frenzy: Hey, (Name), over here. Is this the ore you're looking for?!

Frenzy & Rumble: *standing near a red glowing ore*

You: Oh, you found it! Wonderful job! Now, I just take a one good cluster and we should be good to go.

You: *Grabs a cluster of the red ore and store it in your spare space.*

Skywarp: Unbelievable, I could be napping during my break, yet here I am…

Frenzy & Rumble: *Gets a net thrown over them and pulled away. They let out a yelp. *

You: *Notice but before you could do anything, you get grabbed by tentacles and pulled into the shadows.*

Skywarp: …Babysitting the twins and a nerd who wants to make explosive paint. *finally notices you and the twins gone*... Guys?

Skywarp: *Looks around, unaware of the tentacles behind him* You know, this is not a good time for jokes. How about we just ---! * he yelps as he gets snatched by the Quintesson.*

*After*

*the Quintessons scream and nearly break through the door*

Frenzy: The door won't hold any longer!

Skywarp: We have to find a way out. Otherwise we will become their test subjects. Any ideas!?"

You: I have one, but you won't like it. Frenzy. Hold this. *Give him the red ore.*

Skywarp: *Watches you take out your paint brush.* What are you intending to do?

You: Well, if we can't find a way out, then we just have to make one. The blue paint will protect us from the blast. *Splashes him with blue paint.*

Skywarp: Ah! not again! *Watches as the blue paint materializes around him.*

You: *Splash yourself with blue paint then grab the twins beneath your arms.*

You: Prepare yourself! *Use your paintbrush to levitate the ore, feeding it energy and sparks. The ore began to convulse and glow with light.*

*The Quintessons break through the door.*

*Outside the Quintesson ship*

Starscream: *Standing at a distance with the High Guard* Alright, this should be the ship where they keep (Name), Skywarp, and the twins. We must be quick in their rescue, and hope they haven't already fallen to terrible experiments by the hands of those monsters.

*A giant explosion suddenly burst from within the Quintesson ship, causing colorful smoke to rise toward the sky*

You & Skywarp: *Scream as you fall from the sky inside blue giant rubbery balls that bounce against the ground.*

Starscream & High guard: *Watch as you bounce and then land in front of them. *

You: *Your ball stops bouncing and spins a few time until it stops, your and the twin's heads outside the blue ball. *

You:*Smiles after recovering from the dizziness* Oh, hey Star. Don't worry we managed to escape without harm.

Rumble: Haha! That was fun!

Frenzy: Yeah. Let's do it again!

Skywarp: *Rolling on the background inside his blue ball* Can I get some help over here?