#yandere knockout

[fridaysmind]

Living doll

Soft yandere!Knockout x reader

He's gorgeous and he knows it. You can't pass a guy like that up. English is not my first language, sorry.

Knockout didn't like organic life forms and he couldn't be blamed for that, more than half the population of his and a few other planets supported and understood the sentiment. There was a lot of organics in the Universe, a variety of creatures met on his way and on the way of others traveling through the vastness of space. Needless to say, they were disgusting in their own way. Spitting slime, devouring everything in their path or just chewing on something stinky and slimy. They're filthy and disrespectful. What an abomination.

So stopping on a planet full of similar creatures didn't please any of them. But maybe he was wrong about the whole negative assessment, slightly. He loved their races, he loved their media space, their hilarious reactions to everything that happened. But he loved his pet even more.

The grace was the lack of interest and questioning about his life. Is he on the spot when medical attention is needed? Good. He went on a mission and at least he didn't die? Then he's free to go. Where he was and who he was with in his free time was nobody's concern and for a while it might have touched his spark, but not now. His little secret is safe, hidden from prying eyes. First just an interest stolen for his own gain and study, then, after the loss of his partner, his comfort, and in the wake of that, addiction.

He needs to escape from his workplace, just for a little while, to hold the soft you in his manipulators. He needs to tuck himself into a human movie with your sweet voice and commentary on the silly actions of the characters. He needs your warmth pressed against his shoulder while you help polish the places he has trouble reaching. That's so sweet of you, because now no one else will come to his rescue. That's one of the many reasons to love you even more.

There are many other reasons, but they can boil down to one thing: you're not like everyone else. Anything he might find repulsive in others is simply not in the nature of your personality. He discovered this back when he was able to get you into his interior for the first time, Primus gracious, you had the good sense to take your flimsy and filthy armor off your legs, hold it in your hands the whole ride, and keep him clean! He was ready to kiss your head at this point!

Knockout loved to groom his precious pet. He had read so many articles and books on human hygiene and beauty that there was no one on Nemesis, no, on all of Cybertron, who was or would be more professional than he. The territory that had belonged to Breakdown was drearily deserted, but the comrade wouldn't mind if his place was put to good use, would he? All shelves and surfaces are now occupied with jars, sponges and bottles.

Knockout loves to take a bath with you. Technically, you're the one who washing, human cleaning products leave streaks and are ineffective on him, and the pressure of his shower is too rough for delicate human skin. So he's bathing you. His pet didn't like it at first. Оf course, he knew too little then and human boundaries. Turns out humans hide the crotch and breast plate areas too. Buying, though more like stealing, fabric for the important places calmed you down, though also after a few tries.

Knockout appreciates a perfect shine, so his pet should shine too. Forgetting all body hair, he will meticulously remove everything but your head so that nothing interferes with the shine of your skin, and then gently sit you down in warm, almost hot water. He steams your skin, rubs all the places well, twirls your figure in his palms and enjoys your appearance, chooses the smell of the gel according to his mood, does not forget the masks and his favorite part - creams.

Mech won't admit it to you, much less to anyone else, not even himself, but your damp, soft skin, into which he rubs the sweet-smelling cream in circles, seems to be driving him slightly insane, giving him glimpses of strange thoughts he doesn't want to ponder further. He just enjoys your scent, your warmth, your quiet voice, fighting the urge to just eat you up because of how adorable you are.

He doesn't want anyone to know about you. When Knockout blabbed to Starscream that he'd seen zombies in a human movie, he stopped himself a split second before talking about your funny comment. It was as if an electric shock ran through his body, and he swallowed the sudden fear.

It hit the doctor.

What will he do if others find out about you? What will they do? Will they use you? Take you away so they have someone to vent their anger on? Throw you out because he's spending too much time on you? What percentage of you are even safe? So often he'd just leave you in his compartment and go on shift, even if he'd run to you on breaks under the pretext of ‘make sure I'm as beautiful as usual at the moment', but he could have higher-ranking Decepticons coming in, they had every right to, and there you were, defenseless and so small.

***

He may be paranoid, so what? Doing a little more than necessary never hurt anyone. You're confused that the new bracelet doesn't come off in any way, looking almost like a handcuff on your arm, but that shouldn't mess with your nicely styled head. Now he can track your every move and may you not know it yourself. He's nobly arranged for you to have your own corner on his desk, behind the datapads, so you won't be throwing yourself into the optics if someone walks in. But it didn't make him feel any better.

Knockout has already had someone dear to him taken away, someone close to his spark and no one cared. He can't lose you, too. So he clings to you more and more with each sunrise, not wanting to leave the compartment, not wanting to part with you, not wanting to leave your warm organic fingers.

As he walks down the corridors, he thinks about the fact that he really would go to great lengths to keep things the way they are now. The thought of being willing to betray the Decepticon cause for the sake of your collective safety halted his stride and made him look away warily. Even if he did, he would never, ever say that to anyone.

[lavenlady]

What will Yandere Knockout try to win the human female reader however reader is falling in love with Yandere Bumblebee

Here you go! Enjoy!

◉ Racing to you ◉ | Tfp Yan!Knockout vs Yan!Bumblebee x Human!Fem!Reader

❥ You were a babysitter for Raf

❥ Even though you knew he would be doing well without you, you couldn't bring yourself to leave him

❥ After the first fight he went to you, knowing he could trust you with anything

❥ That's how you met the Autobots and with them was Bumblebee

❥ He is an obvious, protective, soft and a little delusional yandere

❥ He really likes your company as you often hang out with him and Raf

❥ He would often drive to your house to check on you, making sure you were safe from Decepticons

❥ Though it only made the situation worse as Knockout had caught a glimpse of him visiting your house often

❥ He wanted to please Megatron and peacefully race to his liking, so he started following you

❥ His original idea went into trash when you complimented his paint-job, you knew your things, which made him like you even more

❥ Your soft demeanor was pleasant. He could calmly pull up next to you ask a question and you would reply, not daring to ignore anyone in need

❥ Knockout is protective, possessive, soft, manipulative and to some degree self-aware yandere

❥ When he changed sides, he could peacefully think about spending more time with you

❥ Bumblebee noticed how he looked at you and he couldn't stop but feel furious

❥ Sadly he couldn't really do anything about it, as they returned to rebuild Cybertron. But he promised to visit

❥ Though Knockout disappeared into thin air, noone knew where he was at the time

❥ Thanks to his stealth he could fly under the radar and not face the consequences of it

❥ You were pleasantly surprised when you spotted a red car in your driveway

" When Cybertron is rebuilt, I will visit you as fast as I can. I promise. "

" Wanna go racing? You need a break from all those humans and I know just the place. "

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( Hope you liked it! )

(Master list)

( Request away! )

[yandere--stuck]

Yandere!TFP!Knock Out x Human!Reader Headcanons

❤️‍🩹 Knockout had become relatively well known in local street racing scenes. He had meant to keep a low profile, of course, but with a model as beautiful as his, he couldn't help but stand out. Simply the cost of beauty! What he didn't expect, however, was to get a fan. Sure, Knock Out noticed familiar faces at multiple races, but this was different. Someone who always complimented his skills and good looks after races. It wasn't long before he began to pick you out from a crowd. Hearing the whispers of your voice in the tornado of a crowd, yet somehow still distinct to Knock Out. The more he crossed paths, the more he indulged in talking with you and the longer he strayed from returning to the ship.

⛑️ He always kept his tinted windows up, much to your disappointment. Said he wanted to keep this side of him secret, but he did open up. At least, partially. You wouldn't get a real name, but could call him Knock Out, as a nickname. He told you he had recently transferred over for a position in medicine. That he practically lived at work and the conditions were terrible. The second he got a chance, he turned to the open road to feel some sense of freedom. When you responded with sympathy, Knock Out found himself surprised. He'd always considered humans… Primitive. Cute and squishy, but not exactly the most evolved bunch. Humans were supposed to be animals. But, you understood Knockout. You shared your own troubles and related to him. To watch the exhilaration of racing is to be stuck in the moment, to forget everything except where the rubber meets the road and how fast you can go. Despite himself, Knock Out began to grow fond of you.

❤️‍🩹 Whenever Knock Out was aboard The Nemesis, he only thought of you - which led to a few slip ups during surgeries. And whenever he gets a moment to himself, he's so wrapped in seeing you that even racing just feels like a preamble to talking to you! And he's been staying out so late… It isn't long before Megatron catches wind of this, going so far as to threaten his life if he didn't shape up. So, what he was about to do really wasn't his fault. It was for the best. He wouldn't focus if he didn't have you with him and when they win this war, you'll be lucky he took you in. Besides, you don't really think those other humans deserve you more than him, do you?

⛑️ It's late. He purposefully kept you from leaving long after the streets were deserted and the sun was swallowed up the horizon. He told you he wanted to show you the real him. You aren't expecting his door to open, and you definitely aren't expecting it to empty. Seatbelts shoot out to wrap around your body, pulling you in. You fly forward and crash face first against the seats, failing to catch your fall as you slide inside. You hear clicks as the belts secure you in, yelping as Knock Out rocketed forward, taking off into the night. 

❤️‍🩹 Knock Out, being more knowledgeable on humans than his fellow Decepticons, acquires everything you need to live comfortably. Nothing but the best for his favorite human! He understands that you're confused, angry, upset, betrayed, even. But that's okay! You'll see, Knock Out will show you this is for the best. You're probably feeling homesick, too, and love's the only medicine! He can't deny that somehow you've wormed your way into his spark.

⛑️ He's cautious around who he shows you off to, but when he does, he's incredibly boastful and proud of you, his human. The best human, even, because Knock Out deserved nothing but the best! Someone like Breakdown might not get it, and hey, as long as he's happy, right? But, at the same time, he can't help but notice how oddly affectionate and sentimental Knock Out is with you. Almost, dare he say it, like what one would do with a conjunx. Holding you cupped in his hands, holding you against his face plate (even sneaking the occasional peck), petting your head carefully with a claw.

❤️‍🩹 Knock Out doesn't care what the others think in regards to hiding you, just that he worries you may get hurt or used as a bargaining chip, and he couldn't live with himself if something happened to you. He felt… Connected to you. He loved having you by his station as he worked. You've even begun to start talking to him again! And it makes him feel so, so happy. His perfect little human. He doesn't care what anyone, even Megatron, thinks. He… He loves you. And he will never, ever let you go, no matter how much you stroke his ego and plead to go home, but the flattery is still appreciated all the same. Maybe one day you'll actually believe it.

[rowiewritesstuff]

Hello! Could you do a part 2 to your Yandere!Knockout vs Yandere!Ratchet?

I'm in love with it and very curious where you will take it!

Yandere Ratchet & Knockout Part 2

You were angry and scared of Ratchet, even refusing to go back to base. What he said to you was unacceptable, and you didn’t want to be around him. You aired his calls, and told everyone you were just busy with stuff away from base. 

Ratchet was angry, often showing up at your house. He quickly realized that you weren’t at home and tried anything to track you down, but your phone was off.

To calm yourself down, you went street racing. You took the cash you’d win as prizes and went town to town, crashing in your car or in a hotel- whatever was safest and most comfortable. 

Of course it was inevitable to meet Knockout yet again, as he was a speed demon. He instantly recognized your car from when you first met. He chuckled and pulled up right next to you. “Hello again, human. You’re a long way from home.”

You were silent for a moment before mustering up the courage to speak. “And? If you plan to mess with me again, I won’t go down without a fight. The Autobots are nearby.” You lied.

“Sure they are.” Knockout laughed. He wasn’t stupid. He had been watching you for a while, tracking you from race to race with a small GPS tracker on your car. 

In a slight panic, you drove away before the race even started. Knockout laughed as he gave chase. The roads of the abandoned town were old and didn’t help your attempt to escape him. You suddenly lost him, hiding in an open garage and killing your lights. You shakily held up a burner phone, debating calling the base- but then you’d have to talk to Ratchet. 

You shook, but called. “Who is this? How did you get this number?” Ratchet’s angry voice answered from the other side of the line. Your throat felt dry as you racked your brain for exactly what to say. 

“It’s me.” Were the only words you could get out for a moment. You expected him to yell at you, or scold you for leaving without a trace- but he knew that rare tone in your voice. It was fear. 

“What’s wrong? Where are you?” He spoke quickly. 

“I’m…I’m in a small town outside of Was-” You screamed as your car was cut off by a saw. Knockout stood over you with a menacing grin.

“Did you think you could get away fleshy? I’m much smarter than you little things.” Knockout laughed as he picked you up. Ratchet yelled through the phone for him not to touch you. Before Ratchet could get a trace on your phone Knockout flicked it away. He transformed around you, driving away as fast as he could.

“Now, I believe you owe me for getting away last time. Perhaps I’ll get you a cute collar… after you tell me where the Autobot base is, of course.” Your eyes widened with fear as he called for a groundbridge. You fought, trying to use your pocket knife to stab the bot. 

Knockout growled and knocked you out with a small blast of electricity. 

“I should have known my little pet needed to be tamed.” Knockout scoffed as he drove into the glowing portal and into your new home. Hope you enjoy your stay- you’ll be here for a long time.

At the base, Ratchet broke his console in anger. He knew he shouldn't have just let you go. He should have ignored Optimus' words and locked you away. Don't worry dear, he won't make the same mistake when he gets you back.

[moominmanoneandonly]

Got a Breakdown centric/kobd fanfic idea and wanted to write down the summary for later use

After the first acounter with Silas Breakdown actually gets to bond with Bulkhead for a moment and Bulkhead seeing his old partner is still there decides to try rekindle their bond offering sparing sesions for starters. Breakdown obliviously refuses (he's no traitor) but getting back on Nemesis he starts to question himself. He already is a nuisence to the decepticons, he has nothing to offer other than his strength and project Breakdown showed he's not even good at that. Getting to train more wouldn't be that bad.. after all decepticons never give him any classified informations for autobots to steal and if he was killed it wouldn't be a big lose. Breakdown starts meeting up with Bulkhead and their old friendship starts to blossom once again. He's not doing anything wrong, he's just sparing. It's not like any of his superiors care about what he does, now that he lose to a human.

Accept there IS one bot that cares and he is not pleased.

Basically Breakdown getting friends and Knockout losing his shit.

Relationships: Breakdown & Bulkhead, Breakdown/Knockout, past Breakdown/Bulkhead, mentioned Bulkhead/Wheeljack,

Warnings: mentions of torture, acts of violence, toxic relationship dynamics, yandere(?) Behaviour

To clarifie, altrought Knockout might be a little bit antagonized here, he is not a villain. He just doesn't know how to handle some emotions that he's not used to. Which is pretty fair considering he almost lost his husband. Breakdown still loves him for it. Just wants to be more appreciated.

[yanderes-galore]

If it's okay could I request Transformers prime Knockout with a human part 2 if not just a oneshot then :)

I'll see what I can do to add to this! Sorry if this continuation was bad, I wasn't sure what else to add :(

Midnight Drive Part 1 Found Here

Midnight Drive Part 2

Yandere! TFP! Knock Out with Human! Darling Short

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Tracker, Stalking, Kidnapping, Degrading behavior, Manipulation, Forced relationship, Implied invasive touching, Implied delusional yandere, Cybertronian/Human pairing.

Knock Out had been practicing on working with humans before he took you in. They're such small trackers and it took time to find a tracker small enough to fit under your skin. It felt very similar to microchipping you.

Under your skin now lays a mechanical component holding information, with a quick scan it shows you're his and where you are.

It took a significant amount of time to successfully finish the procedure. On a small table you lay unconscious, blissfully unaware of what he has done. It felt nice to finally have you in his grasp.

Knock Out internally praises himself for what he's done. He'd managed to take you onto The Nemesis with minimal questioning and successfully marked you as his. Now he can't ever lose you as long as you have a tracker.

Such a device you won't be able to remove on your own anyways.

While you sleep peacefully Knock Out takes his time noting your anatomy. His claws lightly graze your skin and he takes note of your limbs. If he is going to properly take care of you he needs to know everything about you, right?

Knock Out pauses when he sees you move. You murmur in your sleep before slowly waking up. Knock Out watches carefully, optics carefully observing you.

His original intentions were to bring you back to your human home... but you've pulled at his spark....

"Wake up, human..." Knock Out encourages. "Your procedure was a success, even on such a small fleshy body."

You shakily try to sit up and stare at Knock Out with tired yet scared eyes. You shuffle against the table but realize it's too high to get down. Knock Out laughs at this, a teasing grin on his face.

"Aw, look at you! You can't move around here without my help, can you?"

"You're... the car that's been following me-"

Knock Out frowns for a moment before answering.

"I'm not just some car, I think I'm better than that! You did get one thing right... I WAS following you. You caught my interest since that race between us. You're quite skilled!"

"I don't even know what you want from me... where did you even take me!?" You shakily ask, looking around at the amount of purple walls.

"To my lab. I had to make sure I made my mark on you. After all, humans tend to be seen as pets by Decepticons...." Knock Out vents in what appears to be his form of a sigh. "You're so much more than just a pet to me though, dear. My fellow Decepticons just wouldn't understand."

"What did you do!?"

"Always with the questions, huh?" Knock Out clicks, leaning on the table to look at you. "I put a tracker on you. It tell me exactly where you are. That way I'm never going to lose you if you decide to pull something stupid and run."

You're shocked at the blunt tone he uses with you. You then see Knock Out laugh at your expression before lightly tapping your stomach with a metal claw.

"But you'd never do that, right? You're so much smarter than that as my human."

"Why'd you pick me?"

"Partially by chance. However, who really knows why?" Knock Out hums, you could tell by his tone he's messing with you in a playful manner. He also seems to be warning you to play along. You begin to fear what he may be warning you about.

"Do I get to go home?"

"Maybe." Knock Out answers, appearing to not like the idea all that much. "I'd prefer it if I could keep you here more than anything."

Your heart sinks to your stomach when Knock Out picks you up to hold you. Despite being one of the smaller Decepticons he still holds you high off the ground. Fearing he'll drop you, you situate yourself in the palm of his hand/servo.

"I know enough about your organic species to take care of you. You'll be fed and cared for. I feel most of your time will be here... yet you'll see Earth again."

"Really?" You ask, your eyes sparkling in hope.

"We'll drive together, that's the one interest we share isn't it?"

You feel uneasy at what he's implying and look away. Yes, you used to love driving at night. Yet you don't like the idea of being locked in a sentient alien robot for very little fresh air.

It just sounds like a moving prison.

"... what do I even call you?"

"Knock Out."

"Okay, Knock Out... that doesn't seem like a very good idea to me-"

"Really? I thought you wanted to see your home again. You could always just stay here and I'll be the one who goes." Knock Out's expression is cocky as he sees the fear on your face.

"W-Wait, no-!" You cry out, only after realizing Knock Out is training you like a pet. You go silent at the realization before biting your tongue and continuing. "I'll drive with you if it means I can look away from these purple walls...."

"Excellent! I knew you'd come around. We may have only met recently but I did enjoy our drives together." Knock Out praises holding you close while he exits his lab. You quickly feel sick to your stomach at the idea of him following you for all that time.

"Where are we going?" You ask, observing the walls of what appears to be a ship.

"Isn't it obvious?" Knock Out look down at you, softly stroking your head.

"I want to take another midnight drive with my special human."

It's then as he walks through The Nemesis you realize you may never see your old life again. Even if you ran, he'd find you. He'd probably even kill any who try to take you.

With reality sinking in, you curl up into a ball and try to dry your approaching tears.

Knock Out offers you minimal comfort.

[orionsnotcanon]

thinking about knockout with a detailer darling

theyre a new person in town and theyre not super into street racing, but new clients are new clients

maybe they’re handing out their card after a race, flirting and talking shop to get that bag

knockout overhears of course and maybe after Darlings been established as a reliable detailer in the Nevada circuit, he pops by their place of work/their house (if they do it out of their garage) maybe after a particularly annoying run in with the autobots or a dusty race

a full body spa every now and then doesn’t hurt anyone if they don’t know, and having someone who seems to get the importance of the finer details, well, that’s just a nice bonus.

[yandere-wishes]

The more I study electronics the more I'm positive whoever came up with Transformers smut terms was studying something in the electronics engineering field.

[commanderdianashepard]

Yandere Soundwave X female AUTOBOT reader (no human reader please) who is essentially the opposite of Soundwave.

I got you.

~

The reader is an Autobot named Amber Light (Requster’s OC not mine), a medic who works alongside Ratchet with the Autobots. Soundwave has always had a crush on her even before the war started. While she was more extroverted and talkative, Soundwave was always pretty quiet and as much as he didn't want to admit it, kind of shy. His crush on her formed when she protected Laserbeak from scavagers trying to scrap him for spare parts when he got separated from Soundwave. Ever since he couldn't stop thinking about her.

He never got to confess his feelings due to the war starting, pinning them against each other on two different sides. Even when Soundwave is happy to hear that she's alive when they're all on Earth, he knows the possibility of them being together is low, due to the risk to the safety of both of them which upsets him.

However, fate has other plans for them, very complicated plans, with lots of twists and turns.

So heres the 1st part of this series of one-shots called “The Bird’s Prey.”

Hope you enjoy.

~

{Episode 1: The New Face}

Starscream: “You’re telling me there’s another Autobot???”

Knockout: “Yes another medic, seems like she's been hiding from us this whole time. The cranky old doc bot was out of commission so this one had to fill in for him.”

Starscream: “Interesting, do you have any more info on this bot?”

*Soundwave was walking towards the room as they were talking*

Knockout: “From what Breakdown and I have heard the Autobots refer to her as Amber Light. I think she's the old doc bot’s daughter. I mean it's not hard to tell, she's basically a clone of him.”

Soundwave: *Stops at the door and listens*

Starscream: “Now that you mention it, that name does sound familiar. Let's look deeper shall we?” *He goes to the main computer and looks up her name in the files* “Ah, her, I remember now, she was a medic for the military before the war. Very talkative thing she was.”

Soundwave: *Quickly walks over to the computer and looks over the file*

Starscream: “Wah- Hey! You could at least say excuse me before you come barging in like that.”

Soundwave: *Just Stares at the computer*

Knockout: “What's his deal?”

Starscream: “Knowing him he's probably figuring out how we can get our hands on her, she has a lot of useful information and can be useful to our cause. Of course, we would have to use certain tactics to get her to talk.”

Knockout: “Such as?”

Starscream: *Raises up one of his claws* “Very…Persuasive tactics.”

*Suddenly one of Soundwave’s tentacles grabbed his hand and squeezed it tightly*

Starscream: “What the-?! Soundwave! What do you think you're doing?!” *Trying to rip the tentacle off*

*The grip only became tighter almost snapping his wrist*

Starscream: “Let me go you imbecile!”

Soundwave: *Death glaring him*

*The doors opened as Megatron walked in*

Megatron: “What is going on here??”

Soundwave: *Looks at Megatron and retracts his tentacle*

Starscream: *Rubbing his wrist* “Lord Megatron, Knockout found some info on an Autobot that's been hiding in the shadows. This is the first time we've seen her on Earth. Her name is Amber Light, it turns out she's the daughter of Ratchet.”

Megatron: “Hmmm interesting..” *He looked at the file* “Another medic hm? Military rank too..She can be useful.”

Knockout: “It seems that Soundwave also has an interest in her, he may know more about her than we do.”

Megatron: “Hm, in that case, Soundwave, you'll be in charge of keeping track of this new Autobot. Keep an eye out for anything useful she might have, once you do, you'll bring her to us. I can trust you to succeed in this task..right?”

Soundwave: *Nod*

*He then extracted the file from the computer keeping it in a data chip taking it with his tentacle*

Megatron: “Don’t disappoint me Soundwave, I expect great results from you.”

Soundwave: *Nods and walks out with the file*

Knockout: “I don't know what it is, but I have a feeling there's a lot more to him accepting this task than simply following Lord Megatron’s orders.”

Starscream: *Scoffs* “If it's something to get him riled up enough to nearly break my servo, then it must be…”

*Outside the command center in the halls of the ship, Soundwave pulled out the file as it projected Amber Light’s picture, and stared at it*

Soundwave: ………:D

{End of Episode 1}

~

And that concludes the beginning of “The Bird’s Prey.”

Hope this gave you what you wanted, and hopefully I can bring you more and continue this story. This was pretty fun to write and I’ll gladly write more.

I'm free to all feedback and constructive criticism as well.

Other than that, thanks for reading. 👍🏽

[servamp234]

Yandere transformers prime

This is based off a fanfic I'm writing

Yandere transformers prime x oc/reader but..Oc/reader takes the place of Jack's place.

And yandere!arcee is the autobot guardian of oc/reader.

[lavenlady]

Can I request yandere Knockout and Breakdown (Tfp) x human reader headcannons?

Of course you can! Here you are Anon! ;3

Tfp Yan!Knockout + Yan!Breakdown x Human!Reader Headcanons

⌑ The one who kidnaps you is Knockout, he probably snatched you during a race

⌑ Knockout is a protective, possessive, soft, manipulative and to some degree self-aware yandere, while Breakdown is overprotective, possessive and soft as a yandere

⌑ While Knockout is sure he can let you go for a short amount of time into a shop or somewhere else - Breakdown would rather have you always by his side, always in sight, so he won't accidentally hurt you

⌑ Knockout kind of projects his needs onto you, you wouldn't want to be dirty, would you?

⌑ Breakdown can careless about your looks, the way you speak, interact with them is enough to make him happy at give attention

⌑ Breakdown is not afraid to do the dirty work, if it means to keep you save - so be it

⌑ Knockout would rather care about your needs and health, teaching himself there is to know about humans

⌑ Breakdown and Knockout are friends, really great friends, they don't mind sharing you with each other, often working together to keep you for themselves

⌑ They both like having you close during recharge, but only Breakdown would place you onto his chest, covering you with his servo for warmth

⌑ Probably would find a way to keep you with them forever, not wanting to lose someone so special so soon

⌑ Just know - only death can save you from their tight hold

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( Hope you like it! )

(Master list)

(Request away!)

[urfaveisayandere]

Knock Out from Transformers: Prime is a yandere!

Requested by anonymous!

[stickytrigger69]

hello! saw that you wrote for yandere stuff and couldn’t resist asking. may i request starscream or kobd wanting to keep a gn human all to themself, monitoring them, holding them, maybe even keeping the human on a leash in a petplay sorta way? headcanons would be okay, if you don’t want to write a full fic.

TFP Starscream x GN Human Reader

TFP KOBD x GN Human Reader

Reader is gn, they/them pronouns

SFW

Yandere behaviors are mild

Hope it makes sense and you like it lol

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Starscream

When he first saw you, he didn't know what it was, but something made him want you. He isn't a huge fan of humanity, but for some reason, you caught his eye. He wants, no, needs you. It's taken weeks of watching and planning. But he finally has you. You're so small and cute. Knockout had seen you and tried asking you some questions, but Starscream immediately snatched you up and held you to his chest.

"They are mine. Go find your own." He grumbles before walking away with you in hand, leaving a very confused Knockout in the lab."You're mine, no one else's." He says to you as he walks to his hab. He keeps you close to him the whole time. When he finally gets into his hab, he puts you down on his berth and locks the door. When he looks at you, you bow your head down.

"Didn't I tell you to keep out of sight?" He scolds.

"Yes." Is all you can muster up.

"Then why do you refuse to obey me?" He feigns hurt, making you feel guilty.

"I just-"

"You nothing, you're mine. You're my little pet. You're not here for anyone else. I didn't want to have to start taking privileges away from you, but because you don't seem to want to listen, I must." He says as he digs through his subspace. "You will wear this at all times. And you will stay with me at all times as well. Do you understand?" He holds up a collar and a long rope intended as a leash. You nod as he hands it to you. "Good, now put it on so I may take you outside." You nod again and slip it around your neck. Tightening it so it stays in place.

When it's on and he's satisfied, he smiles at you softly. "You look so cute, my little one." He picks you up gently and places you on his shoulder. The long rope reaches all the way down so he can hold it in hand. You hold on as tightly as you can as he walks, occasionally slipping down the side just a little. "Are you hungry, little one?" He asks softly.

"A little." You say barely above a whisper. He smiles at you and reaches up to take you into his hand.

"Okay, we'll get you something." When he says that, he usually means he'll find a way to disable the security systems of a little gas station or a small store so you can go in and take something. While you do appreciate it, it doesn't feel right to just take it without paying for it. But he lets you. Or he takes it for you, just barging in and taking whatever he can get his hands on. He's good and nice when he wants to be. His angry times are scary. He just explodes, not directly at you but around you, and it's scary.

He does apologize when he scares you. He cuddles and holds you after and says sorry about a thousand times. He doesn't like letting you out of his sight. And if he can't see you, he at least wants to feel you, so he holds you in his hand or in his cockpit or on his shoulder. The first few times Megatron had been speaking to Starscream, you were hiding in his cockpit. Watching quietly through the glass as your master is scolded and belittled by the large mech. Starscream wanted to keep you hidden from Megatron for as long as he could. He was so careful that not even Soundwave had figured it out yet.

He was doing his best in the field and to make Megatron happy so he would have less of a reason to spy on him. Of course, all good things eventually come to an end. And it did. He was holding you in his hand while you tried on a new outfit he got you when the large grey bot burst through the door.

"I couldn't believe it when Soundwave told me, but now that I see it, I'm surprised at you, Starscream." He mocks the flier as he stands tall to glare down at you both. "Such a darling pet." He smirks evil, sharp teeth glaring at you making you shiver. This newfound fear of being taken away from Starscream makes you want to be with him. You start liking being with him.

You start loving him and expressing as much. You're his little teddy bear at night, a teddy bear with free will. You sometimes stay on his chest on your stomach, but your favorite spot he's noticed is on his neck. You like curling up or draping yourself across his neck like a scarf. He loves you so much that he would kill someone for you. He's often said as much to you. He truly loves you and panics at times when he thinks he's lost you. But you're always there to reassure him.

You're all he can think about nowadays. All he wants. You and you alone motivate him. His possessive nature and constant preening keep you healthy. When you're with him and someone gets too close, he gets territorial and starts warning others about their proximity to him. He even gets that way when you're napping in your shared hab, keeping others away from your hab, from the hall leading to it.

Knockout and Breakdown

Their anniversary is coming up, and Breakdown really wanted to get Knockout something special. But no matter how hard he looked, he couldn't find anything that caught his fancy. But then he saw a little human. Not just any human, though. This one is special. They remind him of his KO. Fashionable and they definitely hold themselves in high regard.

"Knockout! I have a surprise for you!" He waves to his red partner who has been waiting for him. They stand in a small clearing in the forrest, flowers here and there, tall green grass. "Now, I know you don't really like humans. That you think they're gross." He starts as he puts his hand in his subspace. Knockout watches him skeptically.

"Right. Where are you going with this?" He puts all his weight on one leg as he stands with a hand on his hip.

"Well, I know humans and other alien creatures like to keep all kinds of weird pets like bugs and stuff. So I got you one." He pulls you out of his chest and holds you outwards. For a couple of seconds, Knockout looks at you unimpressed.

"Oh, you got me a bug." When you looked at him with the same attitude, however, it was when he fell in love. Oh, you aren't going anywhere. And you haven't.

They've kept you close since. You're their sweet little pet. You were very resistant to them for a long time in the beginning, but after a while, you had warmed up to them. Knockout liked putting you in cute little outfits and got you a new collar every couple of weeks. Breakdown liked taking you on drives. He liked telling you about cybertron and asking you about yourself. The two bots have bonded with you so deeply that they don't like letting you out of sight. At first, it was a healthy relationship. They even let you have your own space.

But when everyone started noticing you and wanting to see you and talk to you, they became obsessive. Hiding you away from everyone else. You are always with one of them or both of them at the same time. If they have a mission to do, they never take you with them and hide you somewhere in their hab. Megatron can't use you against them; he has no reason to. Let alone with the way Breakdown and Knockout can easily ruin things with a little petty argument over a fleshling.

Knockout loves your little fashion shows. He often brings you new outfits or articles of clothing. And if it's not him, it's Breakdown bringing it. They had no reason to have a leash connected to your collar, but now they do, afraid someone will snatch you up and they won't be able to hold onto you or save you. Their fear and worry turn into anger. They get grumpy with you if you don't have your collar on or if you're asleep for too long.

They end up scaring you and then cuddling you after.

"We're your only ones." Knockout says in a whisper as you're sandwiched between their chests.

"We're your masters. You're our pet. Ours, no one else's." Breakdown says with a serious timbre to his voice as he rests his head on knockout's, eyes closed while he feels your warm, squishy body against his own metal one. They hold you like this all the time. "Keeping you safe," they say. If they don't get their full 5 hours of sandwich time a day, they get upset and grumps. Sometimes, they will accidentally yell at you and hurt your feelings but then turn around and apologize while telling you they love you.

They use a lot of manipulation tactics on you as often as they can. Unfortunately for you, it works. They keep you wrapped around their fingers, literally and figuratively. You're their sweetheart, and they can't ever let you go.

[valleydolli]

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[snail-day]

With All My Heart, Will You Be Mine?

Sum: Happy Valentine's Day!

Yan! Yakuza Gojo x Reader

TW: Yandere Behaviors, Stalking, Kidnapping, Medical Horror, Graphic violence/torture, Terminal Illness (Reader), Blood, Gore, Dubcon kisses, Masturbation (Gojo), Manipulation, Forced Surgery, mentions of murder. MDNI

WC: 5.8k

A/n: Thank you 💖 anon for feeding me yummy ideas, lots of smoochies for you. You will receive my kidney for Valentine's day, keep it safe, use it for school! MWAH!

Really, truly - Gojo Satoru didn’t believe in love at first sight.

Lust at first sight? Absolutely. Intrigue at first sight? Happens all the time. But love? The heart-pounding, palm-sweating, head-spinning kind that made fools of otherwise rational men? No.

He was a romantic, sure, but not delusional.

And yet, here he was, standing in the middle of a dingy little house in Tokyo, meant to be handling business like the good little Yakuza heir he was, only to be hit with something so absurd, so world-altering, so utterly ridiculous that it left him breathless.

And on Valentine’s Day, no less.

It was almost poetic, if not for the fact that he should have been spending his evening hunting for buy-one-get-one-free desserts, maybe stuffing his face with something obscenely sweet, letting powdered sugar melt on his tongue instead of dealing with this nonsense.

Instead, he was here, wasting time on a pathetic excuse of a man who had made one too many promises and delivered on exactly none.

The debtor knelt before him, flanked by two of his men, the poor bastard's shoulders hunched, his body shaking so violently that the faint sound of his teeth chattering filled the otherwise silent room.

Satoru sighed, rolling his shoulders, letting his hands flex, testing the weight of his own strength. A simple knockout, maybe - if the guy was lucky. If he wasn’t, well, there were other ways to collect.

If you can’t pay up, surely your organs can.

His fingers curled into a loose fist, knuckles shifting beneath his skin, ready to land a single, decisive blow. His arm swung back, muscles tensing, the force behind it measured yet lethal.

He missed.

His knuckles cut through empty space.

The Gojo Satoru, who never missed, whose strikes always found their target with effortless precision, had missed.

Something lurched inside him. Something sharp, something foreign, something completely uninvited. His body reacted before his mind could catch up, his chest seizing up with a feeling that sent his pulse stammering, erratic.

The air in the room shifted, charged, like static clinging to his skin, humming beneath his fingertips, curling tight around his throat like an invisible wire. His breath hitched, a sharp, unexpected inhale that felt too much, too rapid, too overwhelming.

His body, his very existence, felt like it had been shoved off balance.

And all because of a picture frame.

A broken one, at that. Glass shards, littered the floor, glinting under the dim overhead light. His gaze flickered downward, catching the jagged fragments scattered like slivers of ice against the worn wooden planks.

And nestled between them, half-buried beneath the wreckage, was you.

His fingers twitched.

His chest ached.

Slowly, deliberately, he turned his head, forcing himself to move slowly, as if rushing might break the spell of this moment. His gaze briefly flickered toward Ijichi, who stood stiffly near the door, face pale, fingers twitching at his sleeves.

Satoru ignored him, poor Ijichi's silent pleas to please get this over with. Instead, he bent down, his long, gloved fingers ghosting over the broken glass before carefully lifting the frame from the mess. His movements were strangely reverent, cautious in a way that had nothing to do with avoiding injury and everything to do with the image trapped behind the cracked glass.

You.

Oh.

His throat tightened.

A snapshot of softness. A moment of warmth and light and everything gentle in a world that had only ever been sharp edges and raw violence to him. His fingers trembled slightly as he turned the frame over, gloved knuckles brushing against the broken glass, the sting of tiny cuts breaking through the protective barrier. Satoru barely noticed. The world had already tilted.

His breath came faster, shallower, something hot and unfamiliar crawling up his spine. His face felt warm. Too warm. Heat bloomed beneath his skin, creeping up from his chest, spilling up the curve of his throat, flushing the tips of his ears. His pulse—normally steady, untouchable—stammered, then slammed against his ribs, hammering like a war drum inside him.

His brain wasn’t working, actually Satoru's entire body was doing things it shouldn’t be doing. The way his fingers curled tighter around the frame, pressing it against his chest like something precious, something irreplaceable, something already his.

And then—before he could stop himself—

He giggled.

A soft, breathless little sound, slipped past his soft pink lips without his permission, without his control. The feeling was utterly foreign to him, so completely out of place in this bloodstained room, that even the lackeys flinched.

The debtor—poor bastard, still kneeling, still hoping for mercy—dared to look up. His breath stuttered, a trembling, desperate sound escaping his lips when he caught the sight of Satoru, hunched over the picture frame, grinning like he had just discovered the meaning of life.

And then, in a panic-stricken voice, hoarse and broken, he begged.

“T-That’s my daughter,” he gasped, voice cracking, his entire body lurching forward before the men at his sides yanked him back into place. “P-Please! Please, don’t - d-don’t hurt her, please!”

Satoru stilled for a few beats. His long fingers twitched against the frame, his grip tightening just slightly. Slowly, he raised his gaze, sharp blue eyes gleaming, amusement flickering beneath something far, far more dangerous., a fool in love.

A moment of silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating.

Then, Satoru let out another breathless, giddy laugh.

“Oh,” he murmured, his voice a shade too light, a whisper too smooth. “Your daughter?” tilting his head, lips parting slightly, like he was tasting the words, rolling them around on his tongue just to see how they felt. Satoru's pulse was still racing, breathing still felt too fast, face still burned.

What a beautiful feeling. Love was truly a beautiful thing, he was a fool for thinking overwise. His lips curved into a lazy, lovesick smile. A slow exhale left him as he traced his thumb over the crack in the glass.

“What a lucky man you are,” Satoru mused, voice warm, teasing, almost affectionate. “To have someone so precious.”

Satoru's fingers curled tighter around the frame, pressing it against his chest like he could sink it into himself, steal you away, make you his. Careless to the shards of glass pressing themselves into his shirt, sodden with blood.

And then, with a soft, almost dreamy sigh, he whispered into the room -

“Oh, I think I’m in love.”

The debtor was still babbling, breath coming in ragged little gasps, his face pale and sweat-slicked, as if he expected Gojo to snap him in half at any second.

Poor guy.

Satoru’s expression shifted the sharp gleam in his eyes melting into something lighter, dreamier. His lips curled into a soft, almost fond smile, the heat still high on his cheeks as he turned his attention back to the trembling man kneeling before him.

A soft chuckle left him - light, airy, amused.

"I think we got the wrong guy, Ijichi-san," he mused, voice kept casual, lilting as if discussing the weather. Ijichi stiffened from his place near the door, blinking rapidly behind his fogged-up glasses, clearly unsure whether to be relieved or terrified. Still kneeling, leaned in just slightly, one gloved hand reaching out to cup the debtor’s jaw.

The man flinched hard.

His entire body shuddered, a choked sound spilling from his lips, but Satoru’s touch was shockingly gentle - a stark contrast to the raw strength curled beneath his fingers. His thumb stroked slowly along the man’s cheek, a featherlight touch, almost affectionate as if comforting a dear old friend.

Then - he patted his cheek. Soft. Reassuring. And yet, something far, far worse than a punch.

Because Gojo Satoru was smiling.

Not his usual cocky smirk, not the smug little grin of a man who enjoyed toying with his prey - but something softer.

Something warm.

Something that didn’t belong in a bloodstained room.

His head tilted slightly, bright blue eyes twinkling, the blush still lingering across his pale skin as he murmured, voice dipped in unsettling fondness -

"My apologies, father-in-law."

The debtor let out a broken sob.

The room was silent, tense, like everyone was waiting to see if their boss had finally snapped. He swallowed hard, forcing down the giddy little laugh bubbling up his throat. He needed to—no, he had to—figure this out. He had to figure you out.

Satoru was still thinking about you, even during his long day of hard work. Ah, he should be charging your rent for invading his mind like this!

The poor businessman in front of him wailed, body jerking violently against the restraints, but Satoru barely acknowledged it. He twirled the bloodied pliers between his fingers, splattering droplets of red onto the floor, his mind elsewhere.

“You guys ever been in love?”

The lackeys standing near the wall exchanged uneasy glances.

“U-uh… boss?”

Satoru hummed softly, affectionately as if he hadn’t just ripped a nail from the man’s hand a second ago. He turned to one of the lackeys, holding up the pliers like a microphone.

“Be honest with me. What’s the best way to impress a girl?”

Silence.

Even the poor bastard tied to the chair stopped whimpering. The loan sharks shifted uncomfortably, like they weren’t sure if this was a trick question.

Gojo sighed, tapping the pliers against his chin. Careless to the blood staining his pale skin.

“See, I’m thinking flowers - girls like flowers, right? But that feels so… normal.” Voice coming out light, thoughtful, as if he were discussing dessert options instead of dating strategies while actively torturing someone.

A lackey gulped. “Uh… I-I guess girls like grand gestures?”

Satoru’s head snapped up. Oh. Ohhh. That was good. That was so good. Satoru's grin stretched wider, his body practically vibrating with excitement.

“That’s what I was thinking too! Maybe I could make a little event out of it.” He flexed his fingers around the pliers before suddenly plunging them back into the man’s hand, gripping tight around another nail. The man wailed, body convulsing, but Satoru just clicked his tongue.

“Stay still, I’m having a moment here.”

He wrenched the pliers back with an almost theatrical flourish, watching as the nail came free, dripping red. He turned it between his fingers, examining it as he continued, “Like, I could just show up and say, ‘Hi, I’m your new boyfriend,’ but I dunno… that lacks finesse, don’t you think?”

Another lackey hesitated. “Uh… maybe you should… get to know her first?”

Satoru gasped. Ohhh. His fingers twitched, his pulse spiking, excitement crawling up his spine. “That’s a great idea! I should do some research. Find out what she likes, where she goes, who she spends time with - ”

He sighed dreamily, resting his chin on his gloved palm, pliers still in his grasp. “Ahh, this is so exciting. Who knew I’d find love on Valentine’s Day?”

The lackeys exchanged horrified glances.

The man in the chair sobbed.

Gojo barely noticed.

He was too busy imagining what kind of flowers you’d like.

Like any devoted future husband, he did his research.

By the time he finally stepped out of the shower after his long, excruciatingly confusing day—one he would rather you never know about—he had already started planning.

Steam curled in lazy ribbons around the dimly lit bathroom, clinging to the warm air like a ghost of the heat that had soaked into his skin. Water dripped from his snow-white damp hair, collecting in cool rivulets as they rolled down the sculpted lines of his collarbone, tracing the dip of his spine before vanishing into the plush towel slung around his waist. The overhead light flickered faintly against the condensation beading along the mirror, his reflection hazy and unfocused.

Satoru dragged a hand through his messy, damp white locks, pushing them back from his forehead, his fingers catching briefly on stubborn strands. He let out a slow breath, watching as the fogged-up mirror distorted his image, his usually sharp features blurred at the edges. For a moment, he simply stared, tilting his head slightly, his glowing blue eyes piercing through the humidity with an intensity that felt foreign, even to him.

His face felt… different.

He knew himself, had spent years looking at this very reflection - at the striking symmetry of his features, the lazy curve of his mouth, the effortless charm that had always drawn people in. But now? Now there was something wrong.

Or maybe something right.

His cheeks were warm, a soft flush spreading across his pale skin, settling stubbornly beneath his eyes, along the bridge of his nose. His lips—usually curled in an easy smirk, something smug and sharp-edged—felt softer, stretched into a stupid, giddy smile that he couldn’t seem to wipe off.

His fingers twitched at his sides, a restless, barely contained energy coiling under his skin. He could feel the uneven rhythm of his own pulse, the unsteady way it hammered against his ribs - too fast, too eager, like something wild and untamed.

A shaky laugh slipped from his lips, barely above a whisper, and immediately pressed his knuckles against his mouth, trying to stifle the ridiculous giggle that threatened to bubble up again.

Oh, what the fuck was this?

His stomach clenched - not in discomfort, not in anger, not in anything he could name. The feeling felt like being electrocuted. It felt like a freefall, plummeting into something dark and bottomless, with no hope of stopping. His chest ached, a tight pull between his ribs, something raw and desperate.

This wasn’t normal.

Nothing about this was normal.

Satoru’s fingers curled into the edge of the sink, gripping the cold marble, but it did nothing to steady him. He let out a slow breath, trying to shake off the haze filling his head, thick and suffocating. He needed to focus.

His smirk twitched, wavering for just a second before solidifying again, as he forced himself to breathe, to remember why he was here in the first place.

He had a plan.

Of course, he already knew he’d have to privatize a lot of your information. It wasn’t safe for someone as delicate, as beautiful as you to be left unprotected.

A beauty like you? Out in the open?

Far too dangerous.

You were just waiting to be taken, waiting for someone less deserving to snatch you up before he had the chance to make you his. The very thought sent an ugly, seething heat curling low in his stomach, his jaw tightening at the idea of someone else even thinking they had the right to look at you.

And then there was your father. Reckless. Stupid. Careless. Gambling away money, selling away your future with every thoughtless bet. If someone had to pay for his mistakes, it wouldn’t be you. It wouldn’t ever be you.

Satoru sighed, wiping the condensation from the mirror with the heel of his palm, only for it to fog up again seconds later. The humidity clung to him, soaking into his flushed skin as his gaze flickered toward the glow of his phone screen.

His research was proving… interesting.

His body froze.

The warmth in his chest twisted, coiling tighter, tighter, tighter, something sharp lodging itself behind his ribs. His breath caught, his fingers tightening around the cold marble of the sink.

He blinked once.

Twice.

The words didn’t change.

Waitlisted for a heart transplant.

His stomach dropped.

For a moment, he could do nothing but stare, his vision blurring, as if the letters themselves were somehow wrong, as if seeing them enough times could make them disappear, could make them not real.

His throat was dry, the earlier lightheaded giddiness evaporating, replaced by something heavy and unfamiliar.

A slow breath, shaky and uneven, pushed past his lips.

Then another.

His heart stuttered.

Then picked up again, pounding, throbbing, screaming against his ribs with a force that almost hurt.

His lungs felt tight.

This—this wasn’t—

No.

No, no, no, no, no.

His stomach twisted violently, sickening nausea curling through him as he forced himself to swallow, his fingers digging into the edge of the sink until his knuckles turned white.

He could fix this.

Of course, he could.

It was so simple.

Well.

He could just give you his.

The thought hit him like a punch to the gut, knocking the air from his lungs. His own ridiculous, hopelessly lovesick heart—wasn’t it already yours?

Wasn’t it already beating for you, racing every time he thought about you?

He wanted you to have it.

Wouldn’t that be perfect? Wouldn’t that be romantic?

A tremor ran through his shoulders, something between a laugh and a shaky exhale, his body shuddering under the weight of the thought. He grinned, wide and almost delirious, his fingers drumming absently against the counter, a restless, frantic energy buzzing under his skin.

Oh.

Different blood types.

The air seized in his lungs.

An awful thing, really. A tragedy. A fucking crime.

It would have been the greatest honor - to have his very own heart inside your body, keeping you alive, keeping you safe, ensuring that he was always with you, always the one keeping you beating.

His grip on the counter tightened, his fingers trembling slightly as he leaned forward, resting his forehead against the cool mirror. His stupid, desperate, lovesick heart was still hammering, pounding so hard it hurt, and—

And he just knew.

No one else could have you.

You were his.

And if fate wasn’t going to let him keep you safe the way he wanted, then— - He’d just find another way.

A soft, breathless giggle slipped from his lips.

It was almost sweet.

Oh.

Oh, he loved this.

You were going to love him too.

Satoru wasn’t sure how he ended up here, standing in the soft glow of your hospital room, arms full of entirely too many roses, pretending he didn’t just spend weeks memorizing everything about you.

This was supposed to be casual. A natural, effortless, totally normal meeting where he charmed his way into your life like it was meant to be. And it was meant to be, of course - he already decided that long before you even knew his name.

But none of his meticulous planning, none of the hours of preparation, none of it prepared him for this.

Because now that he was actually standing in front of you, he could feel his carefully constructed mask cracking at the edges.

And it was all your fault.

You blinked up at him, your wide, curious gaze unraveling him completely. Even in your frailty—IV drips, hospital gown, the telltale exhaustion clinging to your frame—you still managed to look like the single most perfect thing he had ever seen.

Then, it happened.

A smile.

A soft, hesitant little thing, warm enough to make his knees feel weak.

And then - the monitor.

The steady beep, beep, beep of your heart rate suddenly spiked, an unmistakable, rapid rhythm filling the otherwise quiet room.

Satoru’s breath hitched.

Oh.

The realization crashed into him like a freight train.

Your heart was racing.

Because of him.

Oh, fuck.

His grip on the roses tightened, fingers pressing into the delicate stems, the thorns pricking at his skin, he barely noticed. His own heartbeat had gone completely wild, hammering so loudly against his ribs that he was sure the entire hospital could hear it.

Heat rushed to his face, a creeping blush crawling from his cheeks to the tips of his ears, his entire body betraying him. He could feel it, the warmth spreading under his skin, the dizzying, giddy sensation that made him want to scream into the nearest pillow.

You were flustered over him.

Him.

Gojo Satoru.

A helpless, breathless giggle bubbled up in his throat before he could stop it, and he barely managed to cover it with a light cough, turning his head slightly as if that would somehow hide the absolute mess he was becoming.

He had to pull it together.

His entire existence led up to this moment, and he would not be the reason he messed it up.

Clearing his throat, schooled his expression into something softer, gentler, the perfect image of a man who had no idea what was happening.

"Ah," he started, voice almost too smooth, though there was an undeniable waver at the edges. He made a show of looking down at the roses, adjusting his grip as if suddenly realizing he was still holding them. "I… didn’t expect anyone to be here."

Your lips parted, the faintest hint of surprise flitting across your features. He wanted to frame the moment, keep it forever.

He forced himself to keep talking, keep lying, before his knees actually gave out, even if they did, he'd crawl to you, rest his head on your lap - He'd be your dog if you'd just ask.

“It seems the room has already been cleared a while ago,” he continued, his voice soft, almost apologetic. “I used to leave roses here for my mother.”

The words left his mouth too easily, even as his pulse refused to slow down. Satoru's fingers twitched, gripping the flowers just a little too tight because you were still looking at him like that.

Like you wanted him to stay.

And that damn monitor -

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Each sharp little sound sent heat straight to his face. He could feel it, the way his blush deepened, the way it spread down his neck, his body completely betraying him in real time.

You liked him.

You were crushing on him.

You were falling for him.

Satoru had to physically stop himself from grinning like a lunatic. He had to bite the inside of his cheek, had to tighten his grip on the bouquet, had to plant his feet firmly on the ground because he swore to god if he let go of his restraint for even a second, he would throw himself at you and never let go.

This was dangerous.

You were dangerous.

Because he had barely even spoken yet, and you were already his.

And oh, you had no idea what that meant for you.

His stomach did another awful, fluttery thing, his entire world tilting as he dared to meet your gaze again.

“Would it be alright… if I left these here?” he asked, voice lower, smoother, betraying absolutely none of the chaos screaming inside him.

You nodded, still watching him with soft, wide eyes, and Satoru had to bite back a whimper. His stomach twisted, something fluttering, tightening - something unbearable and all-consuming. He had barely spoken to you, and yet, here you were, already accepting him, already letting him into your space. It was almost too much. Almost devastating.

He placed the roses carefully on the side table, arranging them with precision, as if they were an offering, as if their placement mattered more than anything else in the world. His fingers lingered on the petals, smoothing them down, before he finally, reluctantly, stepped back.

Your gaze was still on him. Soft. Trusting. Beautiful.

Operation: True Love had been enacted.

And it didn’t stop there.

It had become routine. Every morning, without fail, he made sure you had your favorite coffee in your hands before the sun had fully risen. Even on the nights when sleep barely kissed his eyes, when exhaustion tugged at his limbs, when his body ached from handling the scum that threatened the delicate world he was building for you, he always stopped by that little café.

It was such a simple thing, really - just a cup of coffee. But for Satoru, it was a symbol of devotion. Every single action, no matter how small, was done with you in mind. He memorized your schedule, your favorite flavors, the way you liked it just a little sweeter when you were feeling under the weather. He took a sip of it each time before handing it to you, just to be certain that it was decaffeinated, that your already delicate heart wouldn’t be forced to work harder than it needed to.

He had memorized everything about your condition, studied every prescription bottle by your bedside, traced his fingers over the labels when you weren’t looking, committing them all to memory. He knew your dosages, your restrictions, the way your hands trembled ever so slightly when the medication began to wear off.

That was why, when the first drop of coffee hit his tongue that morning, he knew instantly that something was wrong.

The perfect order wasn’t right.

The bitterness was too strong, the warmth that settled in his stomach too telling. He pulled the cup away from his lips and stared at it, Satoru's mind running over the implications. The barista had switched it - either through incompetence or indifference, but in the end, it didn’t matter.

If he had been careless if he had handed it to you without checking if your poor little heart had struggled against the caffeine -

His hands began to shake, a slow, curling fury unfurling in his gut. The weight of what could have happened, of what he almost allowed to happen, pressed against his ribs, suffocating him. His fingers curled around the coffee cup, the lid creaking under the pressure as he slowly exhaled, trying to steady himself.

This wasn’t just a mistake.

This was a threat.

Satoru's grip on the cup remained eerily calm as he turned and walked back to the counter, each step measured, deliberate. His head tilted slightly, a soft, almost playful smile curving at his lips as he met the eyes of the barista who had handed him the drink. The poor fool didn’t even realize what they had done.

“Hey,” Satoru murmured, voice light, almost teasing, like he was about to share a secret. “Quick question.”

The barista looked up, confused, but obliging. “Uh, yeah?”

Satoru took another slow step forward, resting his arms against the counter as he leaned in slightly. Bright blue eyes studied the poor barista, carefully, searching for a flicker of remorse, of understanding, but all he saw was ignorance.

That wouldn’t do.

A wider smile traced his lips, tilting his head as if in thought. “Tell me,” he said, voice still honey-smooth, still light as air, as if he wasn’t seething beneath the surface. “Do you know what happens when a heart stops beating?”

There was a pause.

A hesitation.

The barista blinked, eyes narrowing slightly in confusion. “Uh - ”

Satoru didn’t wait for an answer.

His hand shot out, fingers wrapping around the barista’s wrist before they even had a chance to flinch. He pulled them forward with terrifying ease, dragging them halfway over the counter, ignoring the startled gasps of the people around him. His grip tightened, just enough to feel the fragile bones beneath his fingers shift under the pressure, just enough to send a message.

He could hear the barista's pulse, feel the steady rhythm beneath their skin.

Pathetic excuse of a life.

“You see,” he murmured, his breath a ghost against their skin, “a little thing like caffeine doesn’t seem like much, does it? Just a tiny mistake.”

The barista let out a whimper, their free hand scrambling against the countertop, desperate to pull away.

Satoru grinned.

“But when the person drinking it has a heart that’s already struggling?” He clicked his tongue, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “Well… then it’s a problem.”

He pressed down, just a little.

Just enough for something to pop.

The barista screamed.

Satoru sighed, shaking his head. “You almost killed someone very, very special to me,” he mused, watching the way their face twisted in agony. “And that makes me so sad.”

His fingers flexed.

The wrist in his hand gave way with a sickening crack.

The barista’s shriek pierced the air, loud and raw, but the café remained still.

No one moved.

No one ever did.

Satoru leaned in, crystalline eyes manic, lips just inches away from their ear, and whispered, soft as silk, “Do you know what that means?”

Their sobs were answer enough.

The next morning, Satoru entered your hospital room as if nothing had happened. The coffee was warm in his hands, a perfect balance of sweetness and warmth, exactly the way you liked it. You were just beginning to stir, your soft hands rubbing at your sleepy eyes, body curled up under the thick blankets.

You looked so sweet, so untouched by the world, that for a moment, he felt like he was burning alive. The moment your eyes landed on him, you smiled, slow and shy, and Satoru swore he felt his heart explode.

“Good morning, dumpling,” he greeted, sick with love, drowning in it, choking on it. You blinked up at him, looking so grateful, so happy, as you took the coffee from his hands.

He watched as you took a sip, watched as you sighed contentedly, watched as your heart monitor picked up just a little.

Oh.

Oh, that was dangerous.

The world around him faded, the memory of bloodied hands, broken screams, the useless little stumps where the barista’s fingers used to be all vanishing in the wake of your soft, wide eyes.

Nothing else mattered.

Not when you were safe.

Not when he was the one keeping you that way.

You still didn’t know.

But soon, you would.

He was waiting for the perfect moment - something grand, something special. Something that would tie you to him forever.

He loved watching over you.

He loved the way your eyelids would flutter, lashes casting delicate shadows against your cheeks as the medication coaxed you into sleep. He loved the way you’d sigh - soft, breathy little noises, so unaware, so vulnerable, your fingers curling instinctively against his sleeve as if you knew you belonged there.

And maybe you did.

Because this was exactly where you were meant to be.

Pressed into him, into his warmth, trusting and unguarded. His perfect little angel, unknowingly tucking yourself into the arms of the only man in the world who could love you properly.

You didn’t know what he had done to make sure you were safe.

Didn’t know how many hands he had taken, how many screams he had silenced, how many unworthy bastards had been erased for so much as looking at you too long.

Didn’t know how many times he had sat here, in this exact position, staring at the fragile line of your throat, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest, watching the way your lips parted slightly as you exhaled.

Didn’t know how much it hurt to love you like this.

Because it did hurt.

It ached.

It burned, it devoured, it twisted inside him like something feral, something unsatisfied.

You were so small in his arms. So delicate.

And yet, his love for you was so enormous, so all-consuming, that sometimes he felt like he would crush you under the weight of it.

Every time your fingers twitched against him, every time your body relaxed, every time you made those tiny, sleepy noises, something inside him curled tight, so tight, too tight.

It was adoration.

It was devotion.

It was worship.

And yet, beneath that softness, beneath the aching love, there was something else.

Something darker.

Something needy.

Something filthy.

Because sometimes, when your lashes fluttered against your cheeks, when your lips parted just slightly when your warm, sleepy body curled into his, something unbearable coiled in his stomach, something starved and desperate, something that made him grit his teeth so hard his jaw ached.

The heat would pool low in his abdomen, coiling hot, tight, a restless hunger, a pressure that made his breath come faster, shallower.

It wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair that you were so sweet, so trusting, so untouchable - and yet, your body fit against his so perfectly.

It wasn’t fair that you were right here, so warm, so soft, so completely his—but he couldn’t touch.

Couldn’t have.

Not yet.

Not the way he wanted to.

Not the way he needed to.

And God—God, what an awful man he was.

What a disgusting, depraved, vile creature he had become.

He shouldn't be thinking about you like this.

You were pure, delicate, untouched.

You needed protection.

You needed his care.

And yet, his traitorous body was already reacting, already stiffening, already pressing painfully against the fabric of his slacks, already begging for relief.

The feel was humiliating, sickening.

And yet, no matter how many times he told himself to stop - Satoru couldn’t.

Couldn’t because you were so fucking beautiful. Because you were so fucking his. Because even long after he had gently laid you back against your pillows, even after he had stroked the soft strands of your hair away from your face, even after he had kissed your forehead so gently, so reverently, he still felt that sickening vile feeling, the pressure of his hardened cock against his slacks. That unbearable heat, that sickening desire, the overwhelming need to relieve the pressure before it drove him insane.

So he would excuse himself.

With the calmest smile, with the gentlest voice, he would whisper, "Sleep well, sugar."

Then Satoru would slip out of the room and head straight to the hospital restroom.

Lock the door.

Pull out his phone.

And scroll through the hundreds of photos he had taken of you.

Some were from your walks in the park, when you were strong enough to leave the hospital, your face turned toward the sunlight, your soft laughter trapped in still frames, preserved just for him.

Others were taken without your knowledge, stolen moments when you were distracted when your lips were pursed in thought, when your fingers played with the frayed edge of your hospital bracelet, when you gazed out the window with that distant, dreamy look.

And God, his angel, his girl, his everything -

With shaking hands, he would unbuckle his belt, slide his hand into his pants, stroking himself to the images of you, barely able to breathe, biting his own lip to silence the pathetic little noises threatening to escape.

It felt so wrong.

So dirty.

So perfect.

And when he was finished, hot and sticky, Satoru would take a moment to look at your photo, his release streaked across your delicate face, your soft smile, your innocent little eyes. Then, with trembling fingers, he would draw tiny hearts in the filth, circling your cheeks, tracing the outline of your lips.

Soon he will be able to be a bit more selfish, to feel those pretty lips of yours wrapped around his cock, be able to coo at you to take more into your mouth, to feel the swirl of your tongue around his hardened length.

Oh, Satoru couldn't help but feel his heart pound against his chest at the idea of your sweet warm cunt wrapped around him, he'd be so gentle. Take his sweet time, he knew he had to be gentle, you were a sick little thing. Should he cockwarm you first? Get you used to him? Get you used to feeling so full, to the stretch, to the feeling of having him deep inside you.

Fuck looks like he has to give it another go, you little minx. Raiding his thoughts as always - a slight giggle escaped his throat before he began to stroke himself once again.

Satoru had made sure you both were exclusive, ensured your father understood that no other man would come near you. Because when he finally was able to confess his undying love, when he finally gave you everything, the action would be in a way that you would never forget.

A grand gesture.

A symbol of his devotion.

And as Valentine’s Day approached, everything was falling into place.

Because love wasn’t just words. The notion wasn’t fleeting, wasn’t something to be given halfheartedly. Love, real love, demanded sacrifice. And he - he was willing to give you everything. Even if it meant murdering an innocent individual, claiming the poor saint had wronged the clan. Because he had found the perfect match for your heart transplant, a saint of a person, someone who had never smoked, never drank, never told a single lie. Someone pure, untouched by vice, someone worthy of becoming a part of you. Someone perfect, just for you, so you both could live your lives together.

Because a love like this? It was eternal.

And you would love him.

And you would be his, forever.

No one would take you away from him.

Not even death.

Not even fate.

Satoru had never known love like this how it had seeped into his veins like poison, sweet and consuming, twisting around his heart until he couldn’t tell where he ended and you began. You had become his everything, the reason for his existence, the reason he woke up each morning, the reason he killed, the reason he breathed.

And now—now, you were here.

Laid out on the pristine white sheets of the underground medical table he had so carefully prepared, your delicate wrists bound with silk restraints, not to hurt you, but to keep you from thrashing, from making mistakes, from delaying the inevitable.

Because you were scared.

And that was killing him.

His sweet girl, his delicate little princess, his angel, was crying because of him.

Satoru's breath hitched, vision blurring with tears, and before he could stop himself, a choked sob tore from his throat. His fingers trembled as he cupped your cheeks, thumbs brushing frantically over your damp skin, trying to wipe away the pain.

"No, no, no, my love - please, please don’t cry." His voice cracked, wavering between soft pleas and manic devotion, his lips quivering as he leaned down, pressing frantic kisses against your damp cheeks. He licked away your tears, swallowed your little whimpers, inhaled your soft, hiccuped breaths as if he could consume your fear and turn it into love.

His fingers stroked your hair, tracing the curve of your face, his touch tender, adoring, desperate.

“I can’t take this, sunshine. You’re breaking my heart.”

A shaky giggle slipped through his sobs, his fingers still trailing down the curve of your jaw, tapping gently against your chin like he was teasing you like this was just another one of his games.

His hands slid behind him, reaching for the small, heart-shaped box he had placed so carefully beside your bed. Satoru's breath hitched, fingers trembling not with nerves, but with sheer, dizzying excitement as he held it between you both. His tear-streaked face lit up, his lips parting into an eager, breathless grin despite the shattered, desperate look in his eyes.

This was it.

The ultimate proof of his love.

His grand gesture.

His devotion, laid bare before you.

The soft velvet of the box rubbed against your trembling fingertips as he guided it into your hands. Your breath was shallow, chest rising and falling too fast, too uneven. You didn’t want to open it.

You didn’t want to see what was inside.

But Satoru - was watching you so closely, his radiant, unearthly blue eyes brimming with an intensity that demanded you obey. So, with numb fingers, you lifted the lid.

Your stomach lurched.

The room spun. The sharp, metallic scent of blood curled into your nostrils, thick and suffocating, coating the back of your throat, making your body convulse in disgust.

A heart.

A real, human heart. The flesh was still fresh, still glistening, nestled inside the plush velvet like a grotesque, bloody jewel. Thin, severed arteries dangled from the muscle, the tissue dark, rich, and far too real.

Your breath hitched in a choked, wet gasp.

The air rushed out of your lungs, your vision narrowing as cold, paralyzing horror wrapped around you. Your fingers trembled violently, nearly dropping the box, your hands refusing to function, refusing to believe what they were holding.

No.

No, no, no -

You could feel your heartbeat slamming against your ribs, erratic, uneven, weak. You could feel the sting of tears welling up, blurring your vision, pooling in your lashes as you tried—desperately tried—to make sense of the unthinkable.

You wanted to scream.

You wanted to wrench yourself away, shove the box back into his hands, throw it, crush it, anything—

But you couldn’t move.

Your body refused.

Terror had turned your limbs to dead weight, keeping you frozen as if one wrong move might make this nightmare even worse.

Satoru tilted his head, watching you. That flicker in your eyes.

Horror.

Fear.

Rejection.

His grin faltered. Just a little. Just enough.

That look shattered something inside him. Satoru's breath caught, his smile wavering at the edges as his fingers twitched, his entire body stilling. For the first time in his entire, untouchable life, Gojo Satoru felt small. Like a child who had spent days, weeks, months crafting the perfect gift, only for it to be thrown away before his eyes.

A slow, breathy laugh fell from his lips - unsteady, cracked at the edges, but still so devoted.

“Aww, baby,” he whispered, tilting his head, his fingers tracing the side of your wrist, thumb dragging over your rapid, panicked pulse.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

His voice was soft, teasing - but his grip on you was tight. The air grew heavier and thicker, the scent of blood still hanging between you like perfume.

You wanted to move.

You wanted to run.

But his fingers curled tighter around your wrist, and those crystal-clear, feverishly bright blue eyes locked onto yours, swimming with something too deep, too raw, too unhinged for you to break away.

“You’re not mad, are you?”

His voice was gentle, cooing, like he was humoring you, like you were simply being shy, overwhelmed, unsure of how to accept such an important gift. His free hand reached out, brushing your trembling hair away from your face, tucking a stray strand behind your ear.

“I mean, I did all this for you,” he murmured, voice feigning innocence, his lips curving into something softer, something that might have been mistaken for genuine hurt if it weren’t for the twisted madness shimmering beneath it.

His fingers slid down, grazing your cheek before resting against your collarbone, pressing - just slightly. Feeling the erratic flutter of your weak little heart, the heart he was so desperate to protect.

The heart that could have failed you at any moment.

The heart that was soon to be replaced.

"I went through so much trouble," he continued, his voice quieter, sadder, fraying at the edges. "Just to make sure you’d be okay, sped up the process even, to make sure we can be together."

A tremor ran through his shoulders, his lips parting like he was about to say something more, but instead, he only let out a soft, shuddering exhale. His princess was rejecting his love.

But he had to be strong.

He had to be brave.

For you.

And so, he forced himself to smile, to press another kiss to your forehead, to whisper sweet nothings into your skin, even as his heart shattered.

"I promise, my love, it won’t hurt. You won’t feel a thing."

Satoru's soft lips hovered over your ear, his voice a trembling whisper, thick with the kind of love that could ruin a man.

"And when you wake up, you’ll be all better." His fingers trailed over the silk restraints, his touch lingering against your pulse, feeling the frantic rhythm beneath your skin.

Everything was going to be okay.

You were just scared.

You loved him too.

Major heart surgery is a scary thing. You’re just scared.

And if the doctor made a mistake - if you so much as whimpered in pain, if there was a single second where you suffered, where the operation was anything less than perfect -

Well.

There was a reason he had a backup doctor waiting in the next room.

A little extra insurance.

Because nothing could go wrong.

Everything had to be perfect for you. His fingers slid beneath your chin, tilting your face toward him, pressing a lingering, feverish kiss to your trembling lips - a kiss full of devotion, of desperation, of a love so strong it had become a sickness.

His heart raced, his breath shaky, uneven, manic.

And then, in a voice so soft, so full of adoring madness, he whispered against your lips -

"Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart."

As the medication in the IV lulled your eyes to sleep, all you could feel were soft kisses - featherlight, desperate, pressed against your cheeks, your forehead, the corner of your lips.

A lover’s touch.

A farewell.

[orionsnotcanon]

Ok so... I had a dream about knock out months ago after binging TFP... I've been wanting to write it myself at some stage but I also really want to share it since I came across your recent post.

Reader is a fan of street racing and has their eye on a particular red car that seems to frequently show up. So imagine their surprise when they see it parked Infront of their work after a super long shift. They take some time to admire it before they hear a voice.

"Admiring?" He asks. They're flustered, not realizing someone was in the car. They can't see through the tint of the windows. It's a back and forth of flattery before he offers them a ride. They're hesitate but can't pass up the opportunity and get in only to see no driver but it's already too late.

ooo this aligns so well with the daydream i’ve got goin most days! Street Race Enthusiast Darling who can’t really afford to participate cuz those mods are EXPENSIVE but they’ve recently been seeing one car at every if not every other race they go to. Maybe it’s coincidence, maybe not..

Ahh street racing, truly an exhilarating hobby.

A thrilling watch, never knowing if these unsanctioned races will take a fiery turn, who’ll win, who’ll throw the first punch.

Lately, however, there’s been one continuous winner at most of the races you attend, a red beauty who’s driver never shows their face. You have no idea if he even collect the reward money after, you’ve never seen the trade off personally. Usually one of the losers try to start a fight, and you typically don’t want to stay around for the ending in case any weapons are drawn.

Most nights it works out, leaving just before things get too hairy and making it home in time to get enough sleep for work in the morning. You’ve never noticed how that beautiful red blends in so well with the shadows of back alleys and side streets.

KnockOut, however, is well aware.

Of how oblivious you are, of how many of those degenerates like to follow after you when you’re not looking. But he’s always right behind you, so you never have to notice just how much a darker crimson blends in better than his red.

Which means, it was a night like any other. Biking home late, unaware of the unworthy meat sacks that followed, and sleeping peacefully under your secret protectors watch. He didn’t have to speak to you to know that of course you’d be grateful, especially after all he’s worked to get for you.

Waking up to your bike missing, however, he may have to,, acknowledge it was a bit,, much.

Sure, it meant you were late to work,, again, but he would take care of it all, don’t you worry.

After just half a shift, your manager had to give you the unexpected news that you were being let go.

Apparently, a few customers had called to complain about you specifically. You try to argue that it must be a mistake, that you’ve done nothing but be a good employee, but the decisions already been made. The idea that someone might have it out for you crossed your mind, you have been a frequent at some of those shady races. But what or who could possibly have a problem with you?

You sigh as you exit early, grumbling under your breath and trying to figure out how to make this paycheck last, before something catches your eyes.

A beautiful, freshly waxed double of that race car you’ve been seeing lately. A low whistle escapes you as you exhale, glancing around as you casually stroll closer.

With no one in sight, you really take a look. Maybe leaving early wasn’t too bad, they might have left before you were able to get a peak.

Slowly, you admire the side closest to you, taking in all the details while making your way to the front of it.

“What a beauty..” You exhale, crouching down in front of the bumper to lightly trace your fingers over all the little details.

Suddenly, the lights turn on and the engine rumbles, startling you off your feet and back onto your ass.

“Like what you see?” An amused, self satisfied voice sounds from, what you can only assume, is the drivers side window.

Turning almost as red as the paint job before you, you quickly get to your feet. Like a deer in headlights you look back at the windshield, trying to find a face to speak towards at least.

The tint is so thick, you can’t think it’s legal, even as you shuffle back to the drivers side.

“Haha, I uh, yeah, sorry,” You laugh sheepishly, embarrassed a bit at just how slack jawed this stranger must have seen you, and how flushed you must be right now, “Your cars a real beauty is all.”

You make your way to the driver side door, keeping a respectable distance as he lowers the window a crack. You can’t see anything inside, despite your best, discreet, efforts.

“Why thank you, you’re not too bad yourself~” He muses, making you laugh awkwardly as you avert your gaze for a moment, “Where is someone like you off too at this hour? Can’t be much to do.”

You shrug, shifting on your feet as your eyes drift back to the car. Could it be..?

“Ah, ya know, just.. walkin around,” you hum, surely a street racer would keep his winning ride somewhere unseen. Was this guy not afraid of being caught?

“Would you prefer to drive around?” He asks, the undertone of eager anticipation going unnoticed by you in your thoughts. The offer itself, however, is enough to snap your attention to the window though.

It catches you off guard. Go for a ride? In this thing? It’d truly be a dream come true but you haven’t even seen this guys face yet!

Noticing your hesitation, the car inches just a small bit forward. “Come on, live a little! I’ll drop you off wherever you want~?”

You bite your lip, mulling it over. For the past few years the only thing exciting in your life was the occasional street race. You’d yearned to drive one of those beasts, and here was an offer to at least ride in one. Sure, stranger danger, but.. you mindlessly reach into your pockets, slowly fingering the can of pepper spray you kept on you. Maybe… Maybe you could do this.. just this once! You’ve been smart and responsible, you deserved a bit of fun especially after being fired for something you didn’t even do.

Slowly you nod, a small smile creeping up on your face. “Okay… okay! I mean, if it’s alright with you.”

You nervously, excitedly, jog to the other side, your smile growing as the door pops open a crack so you can swing right in.

In your excitement you buckle first before facing your hopefully new friend. That wide, shy grin dropping instantly as you see an empty drivers seat.

Your hand flies to the handle even as you hear the sound of locks clicking into place, you panic and push hard at door, or at least try to before the seatbelts have you in a vice grip against even the head rest. Tears form as you struggle, a soft voice coming from the dash area as the lights flicker slightly with each word.

“Hushhh, you’ll be safe now,” that same voice from before drawls, you can hear the curl in his lips as something leaks from the air vents. It’s becoming harder to breathe.

“Just close your eyes and when you wake up, we’ll be in your new home.”