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fiber-optic-alligator · 13 days

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Desperation vs. Domestication (Pt. 2)

Pairing: IDW Drift x Human Reader

WARNING: This story contains soft vore. If this makes you uncomfortable, please do not read this story.

Word Count: 4431

Summary: Though you have been lulled into a deep sense of security by Drift's kindness and comfort, you still haven't completely lost the need to be free. A terrible nightmare refuels your desire for escape...but Drift isn't someone who wants to let you go.

HEEHEEHEEHEE I REALLY WANTED TO WRITE A PART 2 OF THIS...so I did. It's because Drift is my all-time favorite Transformer and I absolutely LOVE putting my favorite characters through angst. If you enjoyed reading part 1, then I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Likes, comments, feedback, and reblogs are never expected, but always appreciated! Enjoy! :D

Here is the link to pt. 1 if you haven’t read it!

Also available to read on AO3!

Two months later…

You dream of Earth tonight.

There are fields; you are standing in one. Long Bermuda grass tickles your ankles with the gentle presence of the planet recognizing its own. The endless green is splattered with occasional droplets of color: pink poppies, yellow sunflowers, marigolds, dandelions. It is warm. There is a slight wind blowing, playing with your hair. You turn your face towards the sunlight and bask in the relief of knowing you are home.

All of a sudden, you hear a sound. Thumping. Steady, rhythmic. Loud. You feel the wind die down and suddenly the sun is gone, and there is only darkness. A massive shadow blots out all of the light. You see a figure looming over you, red-and-white with bright blue eyes that stare into your soul and make you feel terror.

You try to run, but find you cannot move your legs. There is nothing you can do when you watch a giant hand reach down in slow motion and pluck you up, holding you between titanic fingers. The monster’s mouth opens, and then you are tumbling down, right into an abyss of metal and isolation. The Earth melts away forever. You are trapped. You are alone.

Shooting forward out of your nightmare, you hear yourself scream. The squishy floor underneath you makes you lose your footing when you scramble upward in a blind panic and fall into Drift’s stomach wall. Everything moves, the organ grumbling unhappily at you being awake. Your hands scramble at the mesh cables. Little pink bubbles of cybernetic blood pop anxiously beneath their semi-transparent surfaces. The walls close in to squeeze, holding you in a secure hug, attempting to keep you still. But you cannot think. You are scared, and you feel trapped, so you desperately begin to thrash and fight against the stomach.

Drift’s voice booms above you, panicked. “Little one? Little one?!”

“Let me go!” you shriek. “Please, letmegoletmegoletmego!”

The walls loosen up, freeing you. You collapse into the fetal position, gasping while sweat beads your brow and your heart goes crazy.

Drift presses his hands over his middle. “Little one, little one, shhhh, shh, shh, shh,” he hushes frantically. “Safe, safe…safe, all is safe...no need for fear…”

Gradually, you calm down. Only when you are no longer trembling does Drift tentatively begin to squeeze you again. In and out, slow kneading, like he’s silently coaxing you to continue breathing at a healthier pace. “Little one…okay?” he asks.

Your voice quivers. “I-I’m fine. I’m okay. It-It was a bad dream. A nightmare.” You sit upright and lean into the stomach wall. Drift holds you close, the undulating muscle relaxing you with its constant massage. His biolights pulse and flicker, a clear sign of his stress. You woke him up with your screams. It makes you feel bad, so you snuggle his cables further. The robot’s stomach is not a big place, but Drift likes to be conscious of you. The support you provide him in completing this task is obviously appreciated, because he hums softly and pats his hand over where you are.

There is peace again. Peace and warmth. But you don’t feel the usual safety. There is a lingering pit of dread growing deep within your gut, foul roots clawing their way through your body, leaving you jittery, uneased. Your nightmare is the first one in months, and it’s a sure sign things are not right.

It has been such a long time since you thought of your possible escape plan. You don’t know how long, but you do know that you can’t be comfortable here anymore. Your mind is sending the signals loud and clear.

No more stalling, you think to yourself. No more being complacent.

You are not domesticated yet.

When Drift lets you out of here…you will go through with the plan to take an escape pod home. For real this time.

It takes you weeks to perfect your plan. And when you do finally have it all figured out, you come to the conclusion that things may end up being more complicated than you thought. Escaping a spaceship filled with giant alien robots is hard enough, yes. But then there’s the issue of what will happen when you return to Earth. You don’t know how long you’ve been abducted. It could be months. It could be years. What if all of your family and friends are long gone by the time you get home? What if things are so different that you’ve been completely left behind?

No. You can’t think like that. A sharp patting to your cheeks snaps you out of it. Keep it together. This is the moment you have been waiting for. Regardless of what awaits you on Earth, you will be there to face it.

You’ve packed everything you own into a small fabric knapsack your mech gifted you during your first days here (Who knew robots are such good knitters?). It’s not much, not much at all: snacks Drift gives you, strange pellets that clean your teeth, three cans of filtered water…but that’s all you really require for the trip you are going to embark on. You don’t believe it will be particularly long. The escape pods need to have some sort of device that allows them to leap through lightyears to their destinations. You believe this because you’ve watched the mothership do it from the observation windows Drift likes to bring you to sometimes. Hyperspace will occasionally be activated, with stars and planets blurring together into dazzling white paint streaks before coming to an abrupt halt in a totally new galaxy.

Now, do you know how lightjumping works? Absolutely not. Last time you were on Earth, no such human technology had been invented yet. So you don’t exactly know how you’ll get the escape pod to lightjump like the ship does. But you’ll find a way. You have no choice.

Now for the hard part: getting away from Drift long enough to activate the escape pod and blast away. He’s not going to make it easy for you. Drift doesn’t like letting you out of his sight if you aren’t in his room, and hardly lets you roam free. You’ve spent hours, both within his stomach and out, pondering how to go about this. It’s left you with the agonizing decision that you’ll just have to wing it somehow.

The door to his room slides open. You’ve been sitting on his berth with your hands beneath your head and one leg crossed over the other, thinking, thinking, thinking, that at first you nearly didn’t hear him come in. You sit up to greet him with more eagerness than you’d like to show. The nightmare didn’t stop your affection for Drift from rearing its persistent head.

There’s no waiting for him to give you his time today. When he enters the room, his focus is immediately on you with no prior distractions. Drift walks with a spring in his step, his finials perking up like an enthusiastic dog. You notice a small white box he holds in one hand, and think nothing of it. Drift’s room is decorated with countless knickknacks from other planets. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s brought some strange little souvenir home.

“Hey, big guy,” you murmur happily when he kneels down before you. He settles the box to the side and cups both hands behind you, humming his typical car engine-purr greeting. You hug him when he draws you forth so he can nuzzle his nose into your middle. “I’m guessing you missed me?”

Drift beep-boops excitedly. He gives you an affectionate tickle to your side, causing you to giggle. Your reaction delights him. He keeps it up, and pretty soon you are laughing so hard your stomach hurts. “D-Drift, s-stop! I-I can’t breathe!”

He gives you one last light prod, then ends the bout of torture with more cuddles. You recover from the laughter, feeling airy and light like nothing else matters except for the giant robot holding you.

“Little one,” he coos. “My little one.”

“Mhm,” you mumble goodnaturedly. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m yours.”

He suddenly looks like he’s remembered something very important, and he straightens, chirping rapidly. You watch as he grabs the white box and, to your surprise, presents it to you. You glance at it, then turn to him. “For me?” you ask, pointing at yourself.

He chirps again and nods.

You take it from him and open it with a slight air of confusion, because he’s never given you something like this before. You think it might be a piece of jewelry, or some sort of charm. But what you see inside is neither of those things. You suck in a sharp breath of pure disbelief and go numb.

It’s a collar. A damn collar. Sleek and narrow, its solid red with a single white stripe circumnavigating it. On one side is a strange symbol of a boxy red robot’s face-the same symbol he has on his chest. These are his colors, you realize. He’s making us match. He wants the other mechs to know that he owns you.

Drift rumbles expectantly. When you remain frozen, unable to pry your eyes away from the collar, he gently pries it out of your now slightly shaking hands. With extreme carefulness, he clasps it around your neck. It fits comfortably and locks with a quiet click.

“My little one,” he repeats. “Mine.”

He’s not trying to scare you. You know he isn’t. Yet your throat is dry, and the snug weight of the collar makes you feel sick.

You need to get the hell off of this ship.

You spend the night feverishly trying to break the collar off, working yourself up like a caged animal driven mad by captivity. But no matter how hard you yank at it, it remains stubbornly fast around your neck. You refuse to eat the food given to you and cry yourself to sleep within a very concerned Drift’s belly, who can’t seem to console you no matter how hard he tries.

Drift doesn’t know what to do with you.

You’ve been moping ever since he gave you the collar. Over the next few days, any sort of drive to escape has left you. You're depressed and disappointed in him for what he’s done. You don’t want to talk to him. You don’t want to accept any of his gifts. Blanket after pillow after plushie-all made by him, with the crude markings of homemade love-are ignored. You shy away from his touch and reject his attention. When he swallows you at night, you give him no inclination you care. You sit like a stone within him and just…stare off vacantly, unable to ignore the collar around your neck.

He’s brought you to the ship’s doctor multiple times. On the first trip, the old red medic bot looked you over and finished his checkup with a shrug and dismissive chuff. The second time, he growled at Drift and waved him away. And on the third time, he didn’t even let him through the door. There’s nothing physically wrong with you. But mentally, how could they know? How could he know he’s hurt you? You trusted him to treat you with some level of respect despite your situation, and he had, until now. The collar was your breaking point. There truly is no way for him to ever see you as anything more than a pet, and it hurts you, because by god, you love him.

“…Little one?”

Drift calls out to you with a soft, sad tone. You huddle up tighter beneath one of your blankets and give no answer.

You hear him shift at his desk. There’s silence between the two of you that is not wanted. He heaves a low sigh and tries again. “Little one…please?”

Damn your heart, you can’t keep giving him the silent treatment when he sounds like he’s about to cry.

You push the blanket off of your head. Drift slouches in his chair, back bent like an old man’s. His finials are drooping, and the glow from his biolights is dimmer than usual. He’s obviously been letting his personal hygiene go for the sake of finding a way to help you, and it hurts to know he’s in this state because of your shitty attitude towards what he simply sees as a gift. The collar is a curse, but you can’t exactly tell him that, can you? This entire situation is all your fault.

It's the treacherous part of your mind which attempts to convince you of this. It partially works. Giving in, you sit up slowly, drawing the blanket tightly around your shoulders and tilting your head while giving him a questioning look.

He’s surprised by your action, like he genuinely wasn’t expecting you to respond to this extent. But he takes advantage of it. Drift offers you a hopeful smile and picks something up from his desk. He stands and walks to you, going slow. You don’t flinch when he crouches down to your level. The warm light of his eyes leaves a kind feeling on your skin.

Tentatively, Drift extends his hand. In his palm is a piece of chocolate, one of the many treats he has at his disposal to provide you with when he feels you are being especially good. It’s an olive branch. A reach in the right direction.

You hesitate…and then you think, Oh, what the hell. Staying mad at Drift when he has no clue he’s done something wrong in the first place won’t get you anywhere. So you accept the candy and take a small bite.

He sags with relief, exhaust whooshing from his nose as he watches you eat with a smile. When you're finished, he moves his hand closer, twining the palm around you and resting the tips of his digits against your head and sides. You hold his index finger, resting your forehead against it and closing your eyes as a sign of trust. But you feel guilty.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, knowing he won’t understand. But you say it anyway. “I love you. I love you so, so much. But you're destroying me. I can’t stay here anymore.”

A tear slips down your cheek. You don’t notice it until Drift gently brushes it away.

“I have to go.” Your voice breaks. “I need to leave. I hope you’ll learn why. And I hope you won’t hate me for it. I-I don’t think I could handle it if you did. Please don’t hate me. Please don’t think I hated you.”

Drift coos. His reply is indecipherable. You think he’s trying to comfort you…but you’ll never know for sure.

He doesn’t swallow you tonight. You don’t know why; maybe he thinks you need a break. Maybe he just wants to hold you in a different fashion this time. You stay awake hours after he falls asleep, your little form nestled in the crook of his neck while he snoozes on his stomach with his arms crossed beneath his massive pillow. You peer off into the darkness, listening to his quiet breaths.

For the longest time, you’ve thought of this room as yours and his. A space the two of you share together. Ours. It's fed into your delusional ideations of a future in which the two of you learn each other’s languages, where you stand on equal ground, you belonging to him and him belonging to you. A future where mechs and humans join hands and say “I see you. I know you. I understand you and you understand me. Neither of us is higher than the other.”

But it will never happen. The collar around your neck is physical proof. There is no future between the two of you anymore. If you want to be you again…you need to let Drift go.

You shuffle away from the bot’s neck and stand. The only parts of him that are lit up right now are the red symbol on his chest and the soft blue of his mouth. He’s so peaceful. This giant alien, who you know has fought in many battles from the scars you can see, is soothed by your presence. You, an insignificant little human being. The dynamic is honestly quite hilarious. You're like his very own version of a chihuahua.

You want to hug his nose, knowing you will never have another chance again. But Drift is a light sleeper, and you're testing the waters enough already. You can’t risk it. It pains you, but you drop your arms and turn away.

Using the metal ladder he made for you so you’d have easy access to his berth, you climb down and grab your knapsack. Quietly padding across the long expanse of the room, you make it to the door. It senses your presence and slides open. You force yourself not to look back when you walk out.

You wonder if he will cry for you when he wakes up and finds you gone.

The spaceship is ominous at night. The only thing you can hear as you traverse the hallways is your heartbeat pulsing in your ears. You're trying to be quiet; passing by multiple rooms with slumbering bots inside has you holding your breath and then letting it out in a forcefully slow, reedy wheeze. You are, after all, a mouse in a prison filled with cats; slow and steady and silent wins the race.

You survey the elevator when you get to it, at a loss of how you’ll possibly find a way to operate it due to how small you are. A miracle finds its way to you, however, in the form of a mech. This one you don’t recognize. He has a similar color scheme to Drift, but is noticeably bulkier, with a strange cannon sitting on his right shoulder and a blue eyepiece over the adjacent optic. All of his focus is on the datapad in his hands as he summons the elevator. You wait for the doors to open and for him to step inside before darting after him. Luckily he doesn’t look up fonce on the short journey. Your cover remains unblown when the doors part again and he heads off. You go in the opposite direction, because like hell are you going to follow the strange robot to someplace where there are probably more strange robots.

You slip in and out of sight, staying far away from any mechs who are awake. They do not see you, which means you are doing this right-though there are some alarming instances where you think you’ll be caught. One such occurrence happens when a tall, thin blue mech with a chest like the front of a helicopter nearly sees you duck into an open storage room for quick cover. Its single orb ominously scans the darkened room. You watch from beneath a large shelving unit, terrified out of your mind. You don’t move, nor do you make a sound, keeping a shaking hand over your mouth.

Finally, after what feels like hours, the mech stomps away. You let your head fall forward respitefully.

You know you're nearing your one-way ticket to Earth when you see bright yellow signs plastered on the walls with loud black alien words telling you to hurry left with the help of large arrows. Escape pod symbols, accompanied by a funny little robot mascot, are the giveaway. You feel a sort of giddy euphoria swell up within you. You're almost there. You're going to escape. You're going to go home. It all seems far too good to be true; sure, you’ve imagined this scenario happening over and over again, but you never really did believe it would happen.

You pinch your arm multiple times just to make sure you aren’t dreaming. This is not in your head. This is happening. You really are going back to Earth.

Your collar suddenly vibrates. And then it starts to screech.

You nearly jump out of your own skin. The alarm is loud, piercing, and undeniably going to alert someone to your presence. You slam your fists against it multiple times, but it doesn’t let up. Your heart sinks when the realization of what's going on hits.

Shit. He put a tracker in it.

You need to run. You shove yourself forward into a full-on sprint, dashing down the last remainder of this hallway, then turning the corner and seeing the numerous escape pods all lined up in the wall. You choose the first one, grabbing the edge of the circular door and pulling with all of your might. The tendons in your neck strain as you grunt and slowly bring the door back with you. Clamoring in, you give it one last heave before it shuts on its own and seals you inside. You hear the lock click into place. The entire cabin flickers to life, with the lights on and the control panel booting up. As you expected, everything is far too big for you to reach. But it seems you won’t need to. A loud robotic voice emanates from the central console, speaking to you in the native mech language.

Your collar is still going off. You don’t have a lot of time.

“I-I can’t understand you!” you yell over the din. “I’m a human, from Earth! I speak English!”

The voice pauses. Seconds later, to your amazement, it talks, and you can understand. “Language notifications made. Destination updated. Scanning…” A panel on the ceiling pops open, and a blue light filters out, washing over you. “Scanning complete. Species: Homo Sapien. Homeworld: Earth. Milky Way Galaxy. Status: Critically endangered. Suggesting immediate travel to Earth.”

You clap your hands. “Yes! Yes, that’s it! Earth, set the destination to Earth!”

“Destination set. Awaiting command to launch LOST LIGHT LIFEPOD 01.”

You are about to give the order when something slams against the door. You whirl around, your heart stuttering when you see who’s there. It’s Drift. He’s made it. And he looks horrified. With trembling fingers, he yanks on the handle. When the pod remains fastly shut, he pounds on the circular window with so much force the entire thing shudders and you think he’s going to rip it right off of its hinges. “Little one!” he screams, voice muffled beyond the barrier of glass. “Little one! Open…!” The rest of the sentence comes out as sharp metal shrieks.

You stand there helplessly. The pod once again inquires for your command, yet you can’t find it within yourself to speak.

Drift is doing everything he can to get to you. He’s like a rabid beast, clawing at the window, teeth bared in visible frustration. His biolights are going mad when he roars and sends his whole body into the door. This time, it does give a little. You can see some dents in the gray metal.

This…is a side of Drift you have never seen. It is desperate, vicious. And it terrifies you. You stumble back to the opposite end of the pod and curl up, hugging your knapsack to your chest like a child squeezing their favorite stuffed animal. Drift continues his futile attack on the door, but pauses when he makes eye contact with you. His face falls. His fists relax and slide downward to press palm against the glass.

He’s quiet as he seems to reflect on how he just presented himself front of you, then whispers heartbrokenly. “...Sorry.” Tears stream down his cheeks. His hot vexation melts away and exposes his remorseful center. “Sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry. Little one. Y/N.”

Oh my god.

All noise ceases when you register what he just said. Your name. He said your name. He’s never done that before. You didn’t think he knew your name.

He learned to say it. For you.

Drift whimpers like a kicked dog, moving to crouch lower. “Y/N. Y/N, please. Stay. Stay with me. Please don’t go. I love you.”

You’ve changed his life. You don’t need to be told this. You know you’ve brought him a sense of joy he hasn’t felt in years. You didn’t come here of your own free will. But you freely chose to love him. You gave yourself up and became his everything while he became yours. Isn’t he your home? Isn’t he the one who saved you? Can you really leave someone who cares about you so much?

Your legs move on their own accord. Your heart beats with his and you take tentative steps towards the door. Drift twitters and gives you an encouraging nod, gesturing for you to keep walking.

Why do you want to leave him so badly? Why would you want to throw away this perfect life?

Your little human hands come to rest right over his massive robotic ones. You two are separated, but you think you can feel the warmth coming from him. Drift bonks his forehead against the window anticipatingly. “Come on,” he whispers. “Come on. It’s…okay. You're okay. Please.”

Your hands are human. You will never see another pair again if you return to him.

Your life is not supposed to be perfect. A human’s life is messy, and disastrous, and chaotic, and beautiful. His life is too, but not in the same way as yours.

“Goodbye, Drift,” you murmur, voice breaking. “LOST LIGHT LIFEPOD 01…take me to Earth.”

The escape pods hums and rumbles. “Command accepted,” it announces. “Preparing ejection in three…two…one.”

The last thing you see and hear before the pod lurches forward and rockets out of its dock is Drift’s agonized expression and his wrenching wail.

Your vessel speeds away. You get a fantastic view of the ship in all of its stunning glory. It felt so gigantic when you were inside, but from out here, you can fully comprehend its overwhelming proportions. You watch it rapidly shrink as you gain distance from it, until it's just another speck of light in the universe. And when you can’t even see that anymore, you allow yourself to collapse against the floor eagles-spread. You gaze up at the ceiling, feeling surprisingly hollow. There is no victorious sense of triumph, no excitement to return home. You don’t even know where home is anymore. Somehow, after everything you’ve gone through, you’ve come out even more lost than you already were.

The waterworks start shortly after the escape pod jumps into hyperspace. Heaving sobs, messy tears, you lie there and weep to the stars, not noticing when your collar finally stops beeping.

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mskenway97 · 4 months

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Tasty au where a con is about to come around the corner and the human knows that the bot cant fight with them in their hands…so how about somewhere else? Before the bot can do anything the human is in their mouths saying that they have to swallow them. At first the bot adamantly refused but as the human sqirmed in their mouth they can’t help but moan at the taste. “It’s to keep the safe” they reason as they gulped the human down. They can feel their tanks expand with the new weight. They have a short amount of time to savor it before they have to defeat the con…but after while waiting for a ground bridge or a bot to help bring back the con they rubbed their belly in satisfaction while occasionally burping. Safe Vore.

well anon I have to say that I love this request, I have been thinking a lot to see which is the right decepticon. So I have selected Breakdown for this occasion ^^. I choose a human reader

Tfp Breakdown x gn!human!reader

A delicious surprise

Words: 1016

Warning: g/t content, safe vore, tasty au @callsign-relic, kidnapping

Y/N knew this wasn't a good idea but you couldn't just stand by and watch. It had happened that the Decepticons had captured his guardian: Smokescreen. Y/N knew that of the two of you he was the one keeping him under control but this time he didn't decide to listen to you or Ratchet. And now Y/N was sneaking past groundbridge in order to find him. It was a cave that looked like a maze, the autobots would be entertaining the cons. As Y/N searched that winding place to see where your guardian was. Y/N was very concerned despite the trouble smokescreen was causing Y/N, he liked to listen to his voice and his funny answers. Something in Y/N's gut told him that the place was too empty…. Then Y/N found Smokoscreen who was being beaten and guarded by one of the big guys, one of Bulkhead's rivals. Breakdown. Y/N tried to think of a plan to free him, you could see Breakdown's servo turn into a hammer, as he wanted to deliver the coup de grâce to him. Then Y/N decided to be your bait, if Smokescreen survived at least it would help in the war as much as it terrified Y/N.

-Leave him alone! - Y/N shouted, drawing the attention of the giant being, who was moving away from Smokescreen and starting to walk fast towards Y/N. Good thing Y/N had the advantage of being smaller and hiding in the small holes. It looked like Y/N's plan was working and he had the exit right nearby but the Decepticon started to create his paths blocking Y/N's exit which was at a dead end.

Y/N felt the nerves and fear watching as the Decepticon approached him and grabbed her in his servo.-I don't know if you're too brave or too stupid to take on someone like me. Maybe Lord Megatron has plans for you," said Breakdown squeezing Y/N making her feel slight pain as he pulled you closer to his face.

Y/N ran through different possibilities of how he could die, or end up being tortured by the Decepticons for the rest of his life he had to think of something fast. But the ideas of escape all inflicted physical stamina, something Y/N didn't have. Then a fleeting and dangerous idea occurred to him, to keep himself safe.... What if he went inside the enemy? That way it would be impossible to be harmed, but the consequences of being locked inside a being gave Y/N the creeps, but what other choice did he have?

- I see you trembling, soft. Don't you have anything to say about it? - said Breakdown somewhat impatiently.Y/N gulped as Breakdown started walking back again. So the idea that came to Y/N's mind was to resist. She started to move with more energy. Breakdown didn't like so much movement in her servo.

- Stop moving around, softy! - Breakdown said increasingly frustrated with the human to squeeze him a little tighter.

Y/N hissed in pain but that didn't stop her as she began to let out small screams. Causing the Decepticon to stop and bring her face to face again.

-Scrap! Be still! - said Breakdown as Y/N saw his grip loosen and he lunged straight for its mouth.

The Decepticon was perplexed to see such an act.

- This is just for my safety," said Y/N as he went into the mouth.Y/N was feeling his fears triggered, he was having a hard time breathing in that humid environment and at the same time highlighting the flusflorescence.

The sight Y/N had of seeing a mouth on the inside he was not going to forget as the glossa of him tried to pull it out, Y/N struggled to get straight into the throat."I hope it doesn't hurt..." thought Y/N resigned and entering directly into the narrow path and slid down.Breakdown on the other hand couldn't believe what had happened, that human had willingly entered inside her mouth.

"What in the name of Primus was that human thinking?" thought Breakdown as he tried to pull Y/N out with his glossa but it was too late as he felt something moving in his esophagus.It felt strange but in the short time he felt Y/N, his taste... it was unique.... Something delicious.

Breakdown had heard many things about humans, primitive beings, stupid, proud... But Y/N seemed different. Breakdown felt how it moved in his esophagus, something that should have been disgusting to him was the opposite. It was pleasurable, it gave him warmth. He felt Y/N reaching his tanks.He rubbed his belly for a moment, as he enjoyed the sensation.

"Knock out vs killing me after I tell you. But maybe you can hold back to taste some more" thought Breakdown.

Breakdown saw a blaster shot coming from the badly wounded Smokescreen who was aiming at him.

The young bot looked distressed and at the same time hurt. He was desperately looking for Y/N.

- Where is Y/N? - Smokescreen shouted while Breakdown just looked at him for a moment.Breakdown rubbed his belly again to burp a little.Then Smokescreen understood right away where Y/N was making him go straight to attack him, but Breakdown stopped him.

- Your human is going to come in handy... Knock out I request a groundbridge - said Breakdown while Smokescreen tried to hold him but he was too weak to face him.

-I'm not going to let you take to Y/N! - shouted Smokescreen trying to fight him, if he could at least give time to the rest of the autobots to arrive but the rival was tenacious and he wasn't going to let Y/N go, but he fell to the ground badly hurt.Just as the groundbridge opened, he was going to pass Smokescreen but saw the autobots approaching.

Breakdown went straight in while Smokescreen stayed defeated, if he had listened to Y/N none of this would have happened.

On the other hand, Breakdown was delighted, if Knock out found a way to get Y/N out of his tanks he would have found a delicious new toy.

#sam writes #transformers #tfp #breakdown #breakdown x reader #tfp breakdown #tfp breakdown x reader #transformers x reader #transformers x human reader #tasty au #maccadam #transformers prime #maccadams #g/t #g/t vore #giant/tiny #transformers g/t

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callsign-relic · 6 months

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TFP Knockout when he inherits Breakdown's Human? This mech is feeling things. On the one hand their a memento of Breakdown. On the other they're an icky irganic. Human is terrified about what happens next.

OH NO i didn’t even think about that once Breakdown is gone :( the human would be so worried both for their own sake and, to their surprise, they think they might be getting a soft spot for KO too. Should they take the chance to escape? Or be there for KO like he was for them, begrudging or unintentional as it was?

#relic answers #tasty au

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daily-deliciousness · 4 months

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Slow cooker steak bites

#steak #beef #steak bites #dinner #food #main dishes #meal #garlic #onion #gravy #steak tips #au jus #meat #tasty #foodporn #delicious #cooking #food photography #foodgasm #recipe

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clownsuu · 3 months

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how do you feel about bread?

#Pretty tasty ngl #Welcome home mob au #cw ommetaphobia #welcome home #Welcome home wally #wally darling

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nartothelar · 26 days

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But how much would that affect them once they are reunited? Emmet automatically dismissing Ingo when he does something bad for him, for one moment he forgets he actually is there again now and it's only when Ingo's warm and very real hand rests on his shoulder that he snaps out of it. Or Ingo seeing Emmet on the couch from the corner of his eyes and his blood runs cold, his brain is sure that something must be wrong, he's dying or badly hurt bc he is seeing the man in white again, and it's only when Emmet is holding onto his arms, saying words that he can't process through his panic, that he remembers where he is and that everything is okay now. It would be a while before they got back to any resemblance of normalcy after so much trauma they both went through.

are you real?

- ingo just recently returned; emmet can hardly believe it

- when he appears, emmet doesn’t look at “ingo” bc he knows he isn’t real (but also bc if he does, the illusion will be broken that much quicker)

- physical touch grounds emmet

#OUGHHH THATS SOME TASTY ANGST #also I hc that emmet is generally touch adverse unless you’re someone he trusts #subconscious guardian angel au #submas #emmet #kudari #nobori #ingo #pokemon fanart #pokemon #fanart #tw eye contact #ask #angst

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skumhuu · 5 months

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✨👑 Throne 👑✨ pages 11-12

Beginning

< • >

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irlplasticlamb · 2 years

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we’re standing here by the abyss and the world is in flames.

prints available here

#vic.txt #resurrected terzo angst tasty.. .#terzo emeritus #terzo ghost #papa emeritus 3 #papa emeritus iii #ghost #ghost bc #ghost band #my art #illustration #resurrected terzo au #ghost au #art #fanart #artists on tumblr #digital art #character art

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nell0-0 · 8 months

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It's been some time since I drew anything for this AU, I missed it ^^

Closer look below the cut!

#submas #submas au #subway bosses #subway boss ingo #ingo #pokemon ranger ingo au #subway boss emmet #emmet #champion emmet #pokemon ranger #pokemon oc #hana oc #my art #I should draw them more this au is so so tasty #I really missed drawing for it #sneasel looks innocent and cute but it's a bastard /affectionate #emmet's just excited to reintroduce ingo to all their train trivia once they're reunited

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lovesickeros · 14 days

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☆ you sow; & thus you shall reap what you are owed

{☆} characters tsaritsa {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood, violence {☆} word count 0.8k

You are dying.

Gold melts into the dirt, bleeds into the very earth that you'd molded by your own hands – a familiarity you do not understand the source of – you know it to be true, yet you do not remember it as Teyvat does. It weeps, in turn, for the way you bleed upon it, the way your lungs strain for breath.

It is fury and sorrow and fear and hatred so raw that your mind buckles.

You will die.

"A dying godling and its judge, it's jury – it's executioners," The voice is hollow and cold, sweeps across your broken body like the first chill of winter, "Archons who saw themselves Gods, now brought to heel by their own hubris."

A cold hand upon your cheek, the brush of a thumb across your lip, the gentle caress of cold across your skin. You know her – you don't remember, you shouldn't recognize her but you do – and she knows you. The cold beckons and you follow, let her kindness settle in the hollow space of your chest. You want to speak, to cry and scream and rage, let the world burn around you in a fit of flames so hot even she cannot contain it – but she silences you, quiets the anger seeping into your blood, quiets Teyvat itself.

"Do not speak, little godling. Guide my hand," She is cold; her hands are not gentle, yet it is bliss compared to the callous, cruel hands that have shattered you. She is cruel and cold and brutal but she is love in the way she kisses the crown of your head. She is love in the way she is the bulwark between you and the world that has scorned you – she is fury in the way she brings them to their knees. "And I shall enact judgement most divine."

They will pray for forgiveness, and they shall find themselves wanting.

"It wasn't our fault!" They cry, but you cannot recognize the voice – it breaks and cracks like glass. "They were too human. How were we meant to know? We– we thought they were.."

Silence.

You watch your judge – the executioner, the blade that shall carve their sins into the very marrow of Teyvat, stand above you like death. As cold as winter and just as brutal. Your temple has been painted in the gold of your divine blood, and she shall complete the masterpiece with their own. The Archons shall become the grandest art in the world – this temple the canvas, their blood the paint and their bodies the palette. The cold that cuts sinew cradles you – it sings to you, whispers sweetly in your ear and carves bone from body in the same breath. The cold presses it's lips to your wrist and it cradles a heart within it's palm – judges them and finds them guilty.

It is her spear that rests between their ribs, her sword that dissects and her dagger that carves – the cold devours.

In the breadth of this divine sanctuary, the Archons dwindle. They become the pieces of a divine work of art, they bleed and bend and break upon her hands. She shakes the heavens and carves mortality into the bones of the divine – your word is Law, and you weave their deaths into the roots of Teyvat itself.

They shall know of their grand folly in every moment henceforth and longer still and they shall weep.

And as the curtain falls, as the world crumbles beneath fist and blade, she cradles your face between hands too cold – as gentle as a shard of ice between your ribs, as brutal as the kiss of gentle snowfall. The world buckles at the loss of six, but she alone does not allow it to break – you will have to mend the wounds of the world when you are well, but today you weep and Teyvat weeps with you.

And alone, the cold remains.

Stone has eroded, the wind has ceased, the flames have been extinguished, the storm has been silenced, the forests have gone quiet and the seas go still.

But the cold remains, bathed in gold.

It wraps you in thick furs, cradles you against the winter storm that brews beneath a veneer of composure. It brings you home – lets the world settle into a stillness and silence that inspires only dread and still she presses a kiss to your brow.

It is cold, but there has never been something so warm.

Where hands have broken you, she drapes you in furs, wipes away the thick gold that clings to your skin. She pieces you back together where you have been shattered, reshapes you where you have been bent – makes of you something new. Not a god and not a mortal but something wedged between them.

But you are yourself.

And you are where you belong.

They shall put you back together and you shall know only the worship worthy of the divine. They shall carve this world into your image, tear out and burn away the rot that festers.

All you need to do is say the word and they shall be your tools to make this world your own.

One word and those who wronged you shall burn, too.

Just one word. That's all it takes, and they shall take away your pain.

#sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin #genshin impact sagau #self aware genshin impact #fic tag #genshin cult au #genshin impact cult au #tsaritsa #“eros you left for a month again” yeah.................#anyway. posts tsaritsa fic and leaves #i kept it kinda vague but the fatui are all on your side. whether or not your actually the creator or not though..#now thats up for debate.#did they tamper w teyvat to kill the archons? to break the world to be remade in whatever image they see fit?#using you as the means of their end?#maybe you are the creator and they just saw an opportunity. maybe they are just devoted to you.#i just think lowkey villain au but specifically imposter au where the only ones who side w u r the fatui like OUGH #i love the fatui. them being the only ones 2 side w u is so tasty #prime material for angst bc the self doubt if the only ppl who believe u r the “villains”#a lot of this is just like. tsaritsa posting again though #the tsaritsa who loves so deeply yet cannot love #contradictions all the way down #she loves you but she cannot love you.#she loves you but she will put a dagger between your ribs. she loves you but she is incapable of love #tsaritsa the woman that u r ough #harbingers and their complex relations 2 love my beloved #smth smth tsaritsa seeing an opportunity to install a puppet “creator” which creates a separate imposter!au when the actual creator pops in #did i write this just 2 write tsaritsa being vague and Weird and horrifying and a horror and a lover and just a woman and #yeah :]#please talk 2 me abt the tsaritsa pleas epleas pleas eplease please please please p[lease please pleas

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fiber-optic-alligator · 4 months

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Desperation vs. Domestication

Pairing: IDW Drift x Human Reader

WARNING: This story contains soft vore. If this makes you uncomfortable, please do not read this story.

Word Count: 3161

Summary: Trapped aboard the Lost Light and chosen by a certain red-and-white samurai mech as the perfect sapien companion and tasty snack, you decide to form a rudimentary plan on possibly escaping your robot captors and finding your way back to Earth…while also realizing that spending months living as a pet has messed with your judgment on a greater scale than you previously realized.

This is based off of an ask I saw on Relic’s blog about what might happen if a human trapped aboard the Lost Light tried to escape via an escape pod, and I liked the idea so much that I had to write something based off of it. This is my first time writing for the Tasty Au and the First Contact Au and I must say I am quite happy with the result. This is inspired by Callsign-Relic’s Tasty Au, obviously, and I am so utterly fascinated with the whole concept, as well with First Contact scenarios in general, that this certainly won’t be my last time writing about this sort of thing. Thank you all for reading and thank you to @callsign-relic for giving me permission to write about it!

Also available to read on AO3!

Here is the link to pt. 2!

Sticky globs of synthetic saliva coat your shivering body as you are carefully slipped out of the massive mech’s cerulean mouth. The red-and-white bot nuzzles you gently with his nose, cooing to you in soft alien words. You don’t understand his language; to your ears, he speaks with the purr of a car engine, the rumble of machinery, the smooth hum of something distinctively much, much bigger than you. And yet, after months of being trapped aboard this titanic starship, surrounded by these massive extraterrestrial robots that have turned your life upside down, you’ve come to comprehend some simple, short phrases your mech typically only says to you: Good. Proud. Love you.

You hate how you lean into his touch. You hate how you cling to these few words you can translate. You hate how your heart softens for him as he sets you down on his desk and begins to clean you up, rubbing his saliva off of you with a towel. You protest softly when he smushes you gently with both hands, struggling feebly before you reluctantly give up and go still. He chuckles deeply and shushes you. “Shhh, shhh….Safe…Safe.”

After a few minutes, he nods to himself, satisfied with his work. You stare at him with the deadpan look of a cat who was just dumped into a bathtub while he retrieves a fuzzy blanket from his bed and wraps you up in it snugly. The part of you that still clings to your autonomy wants to scream and shove his fingers away when he slowly rubs your scalp. It wants to curse him out and tell him you despise him, how you are traumatized because of him and the rest of his kind.

And yet, you can’t.

You know he won’t understand you. You know you’ve developed feelings for him in your weak, pathetic heart. Your bot cares for you. It is obvious in the way he treats you, and you can tell it’s gone beyond seeing you as a pet. He calls you sweet. Little one. He’s never hit you, never yelled at you, and actually respects your boundaries when you express them…sometimes. There are some days where you have clearly shown you don’t want to be eaten. He listens. Those days are few, but they happen regardless. You can’t help but sympathize with him. Call it Stockholm Syndrome, call it delusion, but you are at war with yourself, one side begging you to resist, the other side wishing to submit and accept the role you have been forced into.

Your mech scoops you up. For a good minute, he simply holds you, purring deeply while he traces circles against your back with his thumb. It feels good, and you hate that it does. His heavy rumbles are soothing. Despite what one might think, being eaten, massaged by a mechanical stomach for hours, and then regurgitated is an exhausting experience to go through. You find fatigue tugging at the back of your mind while your eyes flutter shut and you yawn.

The mech coos. “Sleep,” he whispers to you, his voice smooth as honey. “Sleep.”

If this were your first time, you would have fought it. But it’s not your first time, and you know resisting will get you nowhere closer to escaping. Darkness pulls you into its embrace with the glow of his eyes flickering in the background until it too fades away. It doesn’t take long for you to give in.

His name is Drift. That’s the first thing you think when you wake up. His name is Drift, and he saved you from the first set of robots that plucked you from your home and carried you off into space, saving you from one personal hell and thrusting you into another. It did not matter if this particular hell was a rather comfortable one. It was hell regardless. To have your sense of self snatched away from you, to be reduced to nothing more than a pet and a snack, to know you are possibly light years away from Earth and you are utterly alone here is enough to drive you insane.

You sit up slowly and groan, running a hand through your tousled hair. You're still wrapped up in the blanket Drift gave you, and you're resting on his berth. It’s covered with more blankets and even pillows, all courtesy of the mech who has done what he can to make your life here as comfortable as possible. The lights are dimmed. Drift is nowhere to be seen. He must have had some other matters to attend to and decided to give you a moment of solitude while you were resting. It was considerate of him. The sympathetic side of you feels appreciation. All that’s left is relief he is not here to stuff you back into his maw.

Drift does not understand you. In his eyes, you are simply an adorable little creature he has adopted. He cannot speak your language, and you cannot speak his. No level of displaying your intelligence will ever prove to him that you are worthy of being considered a true person by him or the other mechs. Oh, he cares. You know he does. He’s not a bad guy. You’ve seen bad, and he’s a welcome change from it. But he will never view you as an equal. You are simply just an animal in his mind’s eye.

Your fists clench with subdued rage without you even realizing it at first. The frustration bubbles up and leaves a foul taste on your tongue. You’ve screamed. You’ve begged. You’ve done everything you can to show them that you do not belong here. But they don’t listen. He doesn't listen. You're too cute, too tasty. For the first time in your life, you truly wish you had it in you to be a violent person and live up to the horrible reputation humans have given themselves on their own planet. Maybe if you had the power to destroy like the rest of your kind can, the mechs would finally learn to respect you. But human beings only destroy what is theirs. And here? Not even you belong to yourself anymore.

“Damnit,” you whisper under your breath. You haven’t felt this level of helplessness in a long time. Your chest tightens, and hot tears trickle down your cheeks and drip off your chin. You close your eyes and grit your teeth as a low sob heaves up from your throat.

“I want to go home,” you say to no one in particular. There’s no one to hear you. Even the gods of your world are too far away to listen to your prayers. “Please. Please. I want to go home. I just want to go home.”

So why don’t you?

Your eyes fly open.

Wait.

There are escape pods on this ship.

You’ve only seen them once. Drift usually keeps you perched on his shoulder when he travels around the ship and tends to his duties. He’s walked by them before. They’re towards the middle of the vessel, all lined up in single file.

What if you were to steal one?

A plan begins forming in your mind. It’s stupid. It’s risky. It could cost you your life. But you're so scared, and you’ll do anything to relieve that fear. You could return to Earth…you could go home.

You look around Drift’s room, taking in how absolutely massive everything is compared to you. The escape pods will be the same. One single little human will have a hard time piloting it. But what other choice do you have? Sit here and live the rest of your life as a pet?

A part of you actually finds it tempting. But you can’t let that side of you win. You cannot allow yourself to slip into the stupor that is slowly breaking your spirit. You must keep fighting. You must take back what was stolen from you: your life.

Drift is not a stifling owner. He does not demand your attention 24/7. He understands you need your space, and usually, if you protest enough, he will simply coo at you understandingly and leave you in his room for a few hours while he leaves.

You come up with a plan. It’s not a particularly stable one, and there are way too many points where it could go horribly wrong. But you will go through with it anyway, because you don't know how much longer you can take this. You're desperate for release, frantic for an escape from this nightmare reality you are in. You will find a way back home. You can’t give up. You refuse to give up. You are a human being. You belong on Earth.

As much as your plan relies on Drift leaving you alone, it also depends on his presence too. It’s impossible to traverse this starship by yourself. To be seen without your mech companion would lead to some robotic stranger scooping you up and bringing you right back to square one.

So, you will have to trick Drift.

You will use the advantage of your harmless appearance and have him bring you to the escape pods. You could blast away right under his nose and he won’t even know it because his belief that you are just an innocent, adorable little thing who can barely think for yourself is just too strong.

Guilt flashes through you.

He has no way of understanding, a tiny voice whispers inside your mind. It’s not his fault there’s a language barrier between the two of you. He’s trying his best. He’s trying. Can’t you appreciate that?

He views me as a pet, you think back. He thinks I’m an animal. A snack. Is abandoning my will as a human being worth it if it means I please him?

Yes.

The realization makes your heart sink.

Are you really that far gone? Have you become that accustomed to your life here? Have…have you truly been broken in?

The soft whoosh of the room door opening interrupts your thoughts. Drift slips in on silent feet; you still don’t know how such a large mechanical creature can move so quietly. He doesn’t look at you, and instead trudges to the mirror attached to the wall opposite his berth with his shoulders slumped and his head hanging low. Through the reflection of the mirror, you can see him staring at himself with a complicated expression. His mouth tightens and his hand rises to slowly begin tracing the metal beneath his eyes. You watch, with growing concern, as he just…looks. He’s observing his features, taking in every scar, every dent in his armor, every sign of age.

He vents out a soft exhale. With a surprising amount of weariness, he takes his swords and places them on their display stand.

“Drift?” you call out to him.

He turns to focus on you. His eyes immediately soften, and his grimace uplifts into a tired smile.

He looks so much older than he really is.

Your heart twists painfully. All of your previous foul thoughts towards him vanish as your empathy takes over and you raise your arms to make grabby hands at him. This is a language anyone can understand: Pick me up please?

He wastes no time in obliging. Swords and reflection forgotten, he makes it to you in four long strides. Gentle fingers push the blanket aside and free you from your fabric burrito. They curl around you, holding you in his right palm while he slowly lifts you up and slips his left hand under to support you. You no longer feel the queasy flip of your stomach turning circles from the dizzying experience of watching the floor grow further and further away. That reaction was long lost with your time here.

He presses you to his chest. The metal is warm, and deep within, you can feel the steady beat of his heart. It thrums through your entire body and causes you to shudder with awe. This is an alien being, one you hardly understand. Yet, he has a heartbeat. It connects the two of you, in a way. As your heart begins to beat in tandem with his, you feel so small. Yet…it helps you feel for him all the more, because it proves he is alive.

After a few minutes of hugging you, Drift lifts you higher. The soft blue glow of his eyes washes over you as the mech observes your tiny face. There’s a moment when he pauses, and then his thumb caresses your cheek, lightly running over the stains decorating your skin from your previous bout of tears. His smile falls into a concerned frown.

“Little one?” he whispers. He knows what tears are. You’ve heard him cry himself to sleep some nights. So he must understand you are not in a particularly good headspace right now.

“Drift,” you whisper back. He whines when he hears how your voice trembles. With great sadness weighing his expression down, he brings you close and presses his lips gently to your forehead.

You automatically freeze, and your eyes widen in shock as you feel the slightly plush metal against your skin. It’s so…intimate. All too quickly, you melt into the embrace, closing your eyes as a fresh wave of emotion washes over you and threatens to unleash the waterworks again. You sniffle and cling to him. “I hate that I’m enjoying this,” you quietly say.

He hums in response and slowly pulls away. The smile he offers you is so sweet, it makes your heart skip. You feel like a foolish schoolgirl in love. It’s the wrong emotion for the wrong person in the most wrong scenario you could ever imagine, but it feels so right.

He leans back in, and you think you are going to receive another kiss. But then his mouth opens wider and you have a full display of the squishy segmented tongue that’s shifting in eager anticipation for the taste it desires: you. Strings of saliva connect between metal teeth as large as your head. Inside, there’s light that softly pulses with the same color as his eyes, and it runs all the way down into his throat, illuminating the journey you know you are about to take. Fear jumps through you. “Drift,” you say, pushing frantically at his fingers. “Drift, wait!”

“Shhhh,” he murmurs. There are some incomprehensible words that, to your ears, sound like the garbled slurs of a broken radio. Your mind works overtime to comprehend. “Little one…safe…comfort…”

Oh.

He wants to comfort you.

You feel absolutely disgusted with yourself when you bite your bottom lip and contemplate his request.

Unfortunately, Drift doesn’t give you a chance to decide whether to accept or not. Apparently, your tears are really worrying him. With one last reassuring purr, he delicately pushes you into his mouth. You yelp when his tongue curls around your little body to begin slicking you up for a smoother ride. Drift rolls you around carefully, tasting every inch of your exposed skin with happy hums of pure pleasure.

You want to fight off the large muscle and demand he open his mouth to release you. However, you know there is no point. He’s not listening to you today. He believes this is the only way to bring you the reprieve you need. So, you give in. You go limp and allow your mech to toy with you.

He presses you to the roof of his mouth and suckles gently. A low moan rumbles up from within him. You are delicious. You know you are delicious. The way he savors you both terrifies you on a raw, existential level, and also makes you feel…wanted, in a way. He wants you. He cares about you. This is just another way of him showing it.

Eventually, his tongue lowers, and everything goes tipsy as Drift tilts his head and begins to push you towards the back of his throat. You instinctively scrabble at the base of the biomechanical muscle, but you cannot stop yourself from sliding back. When you look behind you and see the pulsing metal waiting to slurp you down into its dark, wet confines, you want to scream.

“Glk.”

One gulp.

That’s all it took for Drift to swallow you.

It is extremely unnerving to be reminded of how small you are.

You are sucked into Drift’s throat with no resistance. The glow of his mouth sticks with you while you are squeezed downward from all sides by the soft, moist walls of his esophagus. You wriggle as much as you can, but it is virtually impossible to move due to how tight the passage is. You find yourself holding your breath as you close your eyes and try to remain calm while you listen to the steady sounds of his internal systems working to keep him alive: the heavy thudding of his heart. A rhythmic intake and outtake of air that is eerily reminiscent of human breathing. There are other low whirrs and hums you cannot identify as well. All consuming. All just for you to hear.

Space opens up beneath you, and you drop into his stomach with a wet plop. The organ gurgles, welcoming you back like an old friend. You bounce a little as the floor jiggles, then you find yourself sinking into the mesh metal. The walls close in, squeezing you, kneading at you, all while a melody of rumbles and groans fill the space. You pant, taking a moment to catch your breath as you lay on your back and stare up at the soft biolights all around you, filling the stomach with a comforting hue.

Something presses against you from the outside: Drift’s hand. Above you, the mech says something. His voice is soft, yet loud at the same time. You are utterly, completely surrounded by him. Locked away behind all of this metal, you truly feel like you are his.

For some reason, this is not as scary as it usually is.

You sit up and try to wipe saliva off of your face, but only succeed in smearing it all over you even more. Drift speaks again. “Little one?” His tone is urgent, worried. The stomach growls with nervous trepidation.

You crawl on your hands and knees to the organ’s wall. Sitting up, you press your hand into the wet muscle, watching as your fingers sink into the squishy grooves. “I’m okay, Drift,” you murmur. “I’m okay.”

You feel him relax all around you. Drift presses his hand right over where yours is and rubs you tenderly. You cuddle up against him and close your eyes, listening to your mech’s happy purrs, enjoying the feeling of being constantly massaged by his stomach.

It is warm.

You are warm.

You no longer want to cry.

Maybe…maybe you can put off your escape plan. Just for a little longer.

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mskenway97 · 5 months

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life or taste

Okay i write this different for some ideas in my mind thanks to @callsign-relic's tasty AU

If you are sensitive to this, I warn you not to read from here.

Warnings: soft vore,unwilling vore, size difference, biting.

I just had to stay at the base, but Miko had gone through the portal. She never thought about it before entering. The battle was in the middle of a forest. I didn't want to lose Miko along the way, there had come a time when I had lost sight of Miko and the explosions that could be heard.

A sepulchral silence around me, I had the feeling that I was being watched. I grabbed my phone and tried to call Ratchet, but I saw that there was no coverage.

"Shit, Shit… Calm down, I just have to think clearly. Don't imagine that I'm in a horror movie scenario, and at night… "I thought as I started to hear some howling.

That feeling of being watched… It was increasing more and more. Until I saw some red optics in front of me. I didn't hesitate anymore, I started to run, I felt my breath hot. If this was a nightmare I wanted to wake up now.

I heard the decepticon's footsteps, it wasn't too close nor too far away it seemed it was playing with her.

The footsteps started to disappear, I could only hear my breathing and my heartbeat at a thousand per hour. I started to hear the footsteps continue as I found a cave to hide in without anyone catching me. I looked at my cell phone again, still without reception. I hugged my legs and stayed inside the cave.

"Will someone have noticed that I'm not at the base? Who is the decepticon looking for me? In the darkness I couldn't see who it was. This is a disaster" I thought

I started to hear some footsteps near the cave, I tried to hide as best I could in the cave until I saw a servo trying to catch me, I tried to run to the bottom of the cave but unfortunately it was not very deep and I tried to resist. Believing it was the decepticon I resisted as best I could only to see that it was useless, but I felt it wasn't holding me tightly, when it pulled me out of the cave I could see some optics that were very familiar to me.

-Y/N, thanks to Primus I found you - said the soft and strong baritone of Optimus looking at me worried - What were you thinking about?

-I was trying to stop Miko, I lost my way…. I felt that someone was following me.

-Well, well it looks like someone has beaten me to it….

I opened my eyes wide as Optimus protected me with his servos. The decepticon that had been chasing me was the leader of the Decepticons himself. What did the Decepticon leader want from me?

-Ratchet, I need a groundbridge," I heard Optimus say.

There was no response on the other end of the line, Megatron was laughing on the other end.

-The reinforcements aren't coming…. It got my attention watching that little girl run for her life," I heard Megatron say.

I felt Optimus' servos gripping me tighter, Megatron on the other hand was swinging his sword ready to attack.

I saw that Optimus dodged, he took me with him to leave me in some safe area.

"Stay hidden, don't move," Optimus told me as he went to fight Megatron.

Although he was at a distance, he could clearly hear the clashes of metal and the shots of the two titans. Curiosity could lead me closer to the combat area. The forces were equal between the two, they seemed too focused.

I was not focused when I saw that Megatron was pointing his gun at me, Optimus saw me and parried the shot in front of him, shooting him in the Chest plate, causing some of the energon to fall to the ground.

-Optimus! -I said as I saw him get on his knees from the pain, Megatron pointed the sword at his Helm.

-Always defending the weakest… It seems that you are very fond of this thing…-I heard Megatron while I felt his servo grab me.

I felt immobilized as I saw a cruel smile at the Decpeticon leader.

-There is a way you can survive… If you accept my conditions you will both come out alive but the little girl may not like the terms… You are small and resistant… But how do you know taste? Human, enter the jaws of your protector… Optimus and perhaps you will be saved…

-No! -I heard Optimus scream as he tried to get up, I was watching Megatron bring me closer to his mouth, I saw his teeth near him.

-If you don't decide quickly, I will end up making you enter mine and taste you to my liking. While your beloved guardian dies. You being my little pleasure for life - I heard Megatron say cruelly.

I was terrified just the thought of entering, it gave me chills, I saw those dentas too close to me. If I didn't decide quickly the Earth would be doomed and Optimus, the autobots would be lost forever.

-Come on, little one… Decide

-You don't have to do this Y/N - I heard Optimus when I looked at him I felt so guilty… I couldn't just watch him die, not after everything we've been through.

If I have to choose between the jaws of the beast and the noble warrior. I have a clear choice.

When Megatron was almost about to put me in his mouth-I'll do it! - I screamed as I felt that he had stopped looking at me with a cruel smile.

-Good decision… I'll give you 10 minutes to enter, don't make me wait

Megatron left me in the servos of Optimus, who had a distraught face plate, believing that this was all a nightmare.

The relationship we had was close, he became my guardian. I was secretly in love with him, I wanted to know him but not literally inside. I felt his servos shake.

"Don't worry… I'm not going to judge you, people need you, just do it," I told him while he tried to hold back my tears.

Megatron was aiming his weapon at him, while Optimus removed the battle mask from him, I was slowly approaching his mouth. I saw the inside of him, the gloss of him and the dentas of him. He entered me little by little and carefully. I was starting to feel parts of my body covered in what seemed to be slime, his gloss was around my back.

-Shut your mouth, taste it with your glossa - Megatron told him.

Optimus did so reluctantly, he was beginning to feel various parts of my body that were being covered by his gloss. Certain parts of my body were giving me some excitement or it was also due to lack of air. I moaned a little without realizing it.

-Wow, it seems that the little girl is enjoying being in your jaws, Optimus… Doesn't she seem delicious to you? Don't look at me with that face… I was watching you both closely. "Some of my spies said she was your little pet," Megatron told him.

I felt like I was almost going inside so Optimus was almost going to respond, but he had to restrain himself.

-Oh wow, can't you talk? Your sweet little one is being too busy for you. Now the poor thing must be scared of what's going to happen to her… Turned into a little sweet… That's looking at me with rage… But why just give her a glossa? "When we can give you two," Megatron told him.

When I heard that I felt Optimus's mouth and gloss tighten around my body. I was short of breath when I felt it.

Megatron grabbed him by the chin making him look at him -I can finish them both off quickly if you don't obey… The sacrifice of your little pet would have been in vain…

Then I heard a silence, to see that Optimus's mouth had opened a little, to feel another different sensation, another glossa… Then I realized that you were kissing, I felt the touch of both glossas playing with my body, competing to see which one had the greatest control over me. I ended up in so many positions… my mind was already starting to get clouded by the pleasure since his lips were touching certain parts of my body that were making me shake non-stop.

Megatron stopped to watch him lick his lips, while both Optimus and I were exhausted.

To see that the kiss continues while I feel both glossas around me again but this time when I finished I was in Megatron's jaws that I began to taste and feel the small bite on my arm and legs.

Then the process was repeated again, it seemed that Megatron and Optimus were still carried away by the feeling. While I felt somewhere between his glosses, between pleasure and fear. I couldn't see what was happening to Optimus but his side wasn't as pleasant as mine either.

We reached a certain point when Megatron was comfortable with both of us.

Megatron smiled diabolically as he grabbed Optimus's jaw again - I'm still left with the feeling that I need something in my tanks.

The look of horror on mine and Optimus's face could be seen from a distance.

"We hadn't agreed on that," I said nervously while the Decepticon leader laughed.

-Oh, you thought you were going to get away with it, that's not going to happen… You'll be a good little sweet…

I was horrified to hear it, how could it end like this while I felt Optimus' glossa pushing me inside. I understood what he was doing…

-Do what you have to do… - I said as I felt like I was sliding deeper.

Megatron was realizing what Optimus had done.

Megatron was going to attack him until Bumblebee and the rest came to help them.

Megatron ended up retreating far away but satisfied with what he had done.

Ratchet asking what had happened and where he was.

Optimus was unable to respond he felt so guilty, so destroyed…his little y/n didn't deserve to be inside his tanks. He felt remorse… But he had to protect her from ending up in a worse fate even if it was inside her.

Luckily the advantage is that he could get you out of there… No organic matter was consumed.

But that day would not be forgotten by Optimus or me.

Those horrors would remain in my mind for life.

#tasty au #optimus prime #megatron #megop #tfp megop #transformers prime #transformers #maccadam #maccadams #soft vore #giant/tiny #g/t vore #i get fun of this #was so sweet buahaha #with angst of course #transformers g/t #unwilling vore #sam writes

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