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“Like a Moth to a Flame”

“He knew that he was in way over his head the moment he began to form feelings for a human.”

//

Word count: 16,002 and counting

Tags: all characters are depicted and written as adults, all characters are adults, Cannon Typical Violence, alternate universe - AU, Freeform writing, no beta we die like men, Sebastian is still the canonical asshole we all know and love, Infatuation, Stalking, Unhealthy Behavior, one-sided romance, mild powerplay (?), clear power imbalance, Unhealthy Obsession, Reade is a Prisoner (ex-convict) for a reason, Reader is mute, Reader uses sign language to communicate, Reader is gender neutral, Reader's pronouns are THEY/THEM and YOU/YOUR

Chapters: 20/20 and updating

Status: COMPLETED

Chapter 1: All eyes on You

You take a pause, catching your breath for a moment as weary glances are casted over your shoulder.

‘Safe… for now, at least.’ You think to yourself, thankful to have survived yet another encounter with the colossal angler fish entity. Hell awaits you further still and you know that death will not find you in that beast's maw.

For the time being.

Barely out of sight, a pair of iridescent sapphire eyes watch your every move.

You’re hunched over, hands resting on your knees as you seemingly cough and wheeze in an attempt to bring back the oxygen you had lost from running away from certain death. The diving gear attached to your body makes the endeavor all the more tasking as you attempt to stand up, straightening your back in a meager attempt at some sort of relief from all the extra added weight. Your lungs feel as though they’ve been lit on fire.

‘Like a moth to a flame…’ the voice in his mind cooed, ‘eh, Sebastian?’

It seemed to mock him as he continued to stare at you.

‘It’s… not like that...’ he tries to assure himself as he eyes you, his gaze dancing on your form. You’re doing better now, having finally caught your breath, you steele yourself and push forward.

As eyes continue to follow you, you descend to a lower portion of the room you’re currently in as the door which now rests behind you, had been blocked by fallen rubble. As you descend with use of a large metal staircase, movement catches the corner of your eye and you turn your head- half expecting to witness yet another mons..tro…sity…

Your gaze is met with two seemingly glowing orbs in return. It takes you a brief moment, thanks to the murky water that lies just beyond the blast proof glass separating you and the water, but you take notice that the ‘orbs’ belong to what look like a face. One that is currently staring right back at you.

You feel a chill run down your spine, however despite this, you refuse to move, as does the uninvited guest.

With gazes held, you analyze what you’re seeing, and you can only catch a rough glimpse of what appears to be looking back at you. You make note of the large almost serpentine-esque body of which the eyes belong to, however, their glow isn’t nearly enough to make out the rest of the creature’s facial features let alone the rest of its body.

As you stand there, locked in each other's gaze, terrified of what’s to come should you pry your eyes off one another. A familiar sound greets your ears.

Were it not for the ungodly screams quickly closing in, you likely wouldn’t have bolted to the nearest locker, finally tearing your gaze away from your newest discovery.

Taking this as an indication that he should not only move along, but that he has also overstayed his welcome, Sebastian takes his leave.

As he makes his way back, a part of him can’t seem to let go of the face of the human who’d caught his eye.

He chuckles to himself, a smile spreading on his lips.

—

Chapter 2: One on One

The sound of encroaching footsteps catches his attention, making his fins twitch at the sound as he swivels around in the compacted room to the best of his abilities. Reaching down towards the air vent shaft, he props the cover open with a long stick.

“Psst!” He calls, you whip your head towards the source and notice the now open vent. Cautiously you approach.

“In here!” his voice calls once more, inviting you towards him.

Though you're rightfully riddled with anxiety due to your recent encounters with the other residents of Hadal Blacksite, something inside you tells you that it's okay to trust the mysterious voice. Steeling yourself, you take one last anxious look at your surroundings before sighing and heading inside.

When you finally make it to the other side, you frown as you look around in the dark, it's quite hard to make out anything that's around you. That is until a brilliant yellow light turns on beside you.

As warm light floods the rather cramped room, your eyes finally make contact with the one who had coaxed you inside.

Want to read more? Click me.

Some silli littl arts

Guys I just wanna be nommed 😭😭

Please just AGGHHH

:(

Please sans 🙏

Or Sebastian from the hit Roblox game pressure 🙏

Doodles ig

I’ve seen a lot of posts on my dash tonight about users who are threatening suicide, with other Tumblr members posting in effort to try to get ahold of them. I think you all should see this:

IF THERE IS EVER A TUMBLR USER WHO HAS POSTED A GOOD-BYE MESSAGE, SUICIDE NOTE, VIDEO, OR ANYTHING OF THE SORT, PLEASE FOLLOW THIS POST.

1. Scroll to the top of your dashboard.

2. See the circular question mark icon at the top? It’s the third one over from your home symbol. Click on that, and a screen similar to the one in the picture will come up.

3. Where you can type in questions, the box with the magnifying glass at the top, type in the word “suicide.”

4. Click on the first link that shows up. It should say, “Pass the URL of the blog on to us.”

5. Type in the user’s URL and tell Tumblr admin that the user is contemplating suicide and has posted a message indicating that they are going through with it or will be attempting. Hit send! Tumblr administration will perform a number of actions to contact the user and take the necessary steps to prevent the suicide.

TUMBLR: THIS COULD SAVE A USER’S LIFE. PLEASE DO NOT IGNORE SUICIDE THREATS.

Reblog this to keep other users aware. Suicide isn’t a joke, and neither is someone’s life. If you didn’t know this, someone else may not, either. Pass it on.

Does anybody have any fics that are similar in tone to For the forgotten ones ?

I’m desperate to find some more well written multiverse fics that aren’t x reader

I would really prefer for like no sex? I’m fine with violence but anything sexual just isnt for me. im fine with any ship i just really want to read stuff abt the bad guys and the stars.

I'll read really long fics aswell, im fine with unfinished works as long as theyre more than like 20,000 words

We’re silly and your neat :3

I joke, you guys seem pretty chill. Like my posts!

Yo, look it’s the bros, been awhile since I’ve drawn any of the skeles and I’m happy with this one swaps hands and feet suk tho

Hi! I figured I should make one of these :>

Call me Sammy! I go by they/them pronouns I enjoy drawing, fanfic, art, and vore! And while yes I do like it I don’t want anybody who has a nsfw page to interact with anything I may write or draw in the future! I do not view vore as a sexual thing!! I’m also a minor so pls don’t be weird to me or anything I make.

If your a normal blog and see me reposting or liking something you posted, don’t worry! I don’t view it in vore way and if you feel uncomfortable with me interacting with you, block me!

For now if I post art it will probably be traditional as I only own a phone for now, anyways that’s all for today, bye!!

(I tried on this okay ..)

I want to love and I want to feel loved

Slurping this down like it’s soup

The Trick to Eating Chocolate

Part 1 of an ongoing story. See the index and content warnings here.

When Joe Piccoli had set out to grab a few things from the pantry that day, he had expected a journey that was identical to the last day’s journey, which had been identical to the journey of the day before that. What he had not expected to encounter was the brazen insult that now stood before him.

“Dear sneak-thief”, read the handwritten cursive on the folded note that stood as high as he was tall, “if you want something to eat, just ask!”

Sneak-thief. Sneak-thief! The audacity of it. Didn’t his new neighbour know that Joe was practically the landlord when squatter’s rights were taken into account? Oh, but that was not the end of it! That tall bastard was not only accusing him of being a thief for taking food from his pantry, but clearly attempting to murder him as well. The note had been set upon a small saucer, and on that plate was a brick of brown gold that the guys down at the docks would kill for: a piece of chocolate about the length of his forearm. Easily worth a fortune, deadly though it often was.

To top it all off, the offering had been placed next to the wall in the kitchen, directly outside of Joe’s favourite entry and exit hole where the pipe from the kitchen radiator entered the floor, as if this human whom he now regrettably had to share air with were saying, I know where you live.

Still, as he circled around the saucer and examined the delicate floral designs that, being hand painted by a giant, left much detail to be desired, he couldn’t help but think that this peace offering had some merit to it. If there were one thing it was almost impossible for a tiny like him to acquire, it was chocolate. Unlike the stray crumbs of chips or the half-eaten pieces of toast or even the stray spillings of sugar that lingered on countertops everywhere, the big people either devoured their chocolate down to the last atom, or kept it sealed away in boxes or wrappings that were a nightmare to get into.

So it was no secret to the borrowers who knew their stuff that, if a human ever wanted to get rid of a tiny infestation quickly and easily, all they had to do was offer up some chocolate that had been laced with rat poison. The poor fools of the world who ate it would be dead within the day. Many tinies who had a death wish would stubbornly partake knowing full well it could kill them; a delicacy was a delicacy after all. Joe was one such individual, and to date he had survived a total of three poisonings. There was a trick to eating chocolate and surviving, Joe had discovered, knowledge that had narrowly cost him his life to acquire.

He pulled out his boot knife and shaved off a piece about the size of his thumb and no larger – that was the first step. The second step was to take exactly one bite of it, and so he did. The third step was to wait for the nausea and the chills to set in. It was an inexact science. An act of playing chicken with death. Sometimes the sickness set in within minutes of the first bite depending on the amount of poison that had been used; other times it set in closer to the third. At most he had a half an hour before it doubled him over. Smarter borrowers than he would wonder why Joe would bother taste testing such a thing at all, but if there were any delicacy greater than poisoned chocolate down at the docks, it was unpoisoned chocolate – the white whale every career borrower dreamed of finding and reselling at least once in their lives.

As he sat on the edge of the saucer and waited, he tried not to let his hopes of finding that white whale get the best of him. There was not a single human in the world, he was certain, who didn’t have ulterior motives. His thoughts turned to the human who had invaded his home. What had given him away? Had the tall bastard found his footprints? Had he dropped something on his travels? Had - god forbid - he been spotted while roaming what had at one point been his house? If you want something to eat, just ask! As though that doctor was the boss of the place!

The clock in the parlour ticked away as the afternoon shadows crept along Victorian green wallpaper that had to be well over 50 years old by now. Motes of dust drifted lazily through the still air, as though they were only half-heartedly bound by the passage of time. Joe, who very much was bound by the passage of time, felt no chills. He took the second bite and continued to think.

A haunting realization hit him much too late: if this man were a doctor, perhaps the poison was more discreet than the average person’s. Maybe Joe was a dead man walking already. Maybe so much as touching the stuff with his bare hands had already marked him for death. His mind cycled back through every instance of cruelty from the big people he had witnessed in his young life, of which there were many: stompings, torchings, crushings, among countless other heinous crimes. If he were already good as dead, what would the doctor in all his humanity do with him afterwards? Would he be dissected? Put on display? Sold to some science museum? Grappling with the sudden regret of his decision, he started weighing his options. Should he induce vomiting? Would it help at all if he did?

In spite of all his worrying, the chills still hadn’t set in. He felt no pain. No tingling. The half hour had passed unceremoniously; if he were going to drop dead, it was taking an awful long time to happen.

That hope rose within him once again, louder now and the hope – well, that was what killed you, Joe reasoned. Either that or it made you rich. In this case, the amount of chocolate he had been left with would easily be enough to buy himself a place on the housing list of his local Tiny Town, so that he could have the privilege of waiting three years to once again have a home all to himself... provided he could remain financially stable enough to pay the rent.

If this was the Canadian dream, he didn’t want to know what the American tinies were getting up to.

Dead man or not, as the time kept ticking by the point came where he had to know for certain: he had to take bite number three. Every borrower had their respective borrowing “style,” as those in the trade called it, and his style just happened to involve fucking around and finding out. They didn’t call him Cast-iron Joe for nothing, he supposed.

His frustration grew as the clock kept ticking, and the shadows kept creeping, and the motes kept drifting, and all the while he remained stubbornly alive after three bites of dubiously poisoned chocolate; an aliveness that raised a question that vexed him:

Why?

Why would this doctor be nice to him? Why would he offer him food? Why write to him? Why do any of this? He began to feel dirty, somehow. Disgusted with himself. He wanted to crawl out of his own skin and run far away from this house and this kind man who would call him a sneak-thief but feed him a delicacy nonetheless without even bothering to try to kill him with it. Joe knew that even eating the food that had been left out for him was the sort of thing the guys at the docks would call “pet behaviour” – but what they didn’t know wouldn’t kill them, and the less they knew, the richer he would be in the long run.

 He took out his knife and carved off another piece, a larger one this time, taking bite number four, then five, until he was passively munching on it as if it were any other afternoon snack. With each bite and each passing minute the looming threat of death grew weaker and weaker, until-

-the porch steps creaked under the human’s heavy footsteps and a key scraped the lock from down the hallway, snapping Joe back to attention. Fear paralyzed him, as though he were a boy about to be caught misbehaving by his father. The chime of the clock striking six rang in his ears as if the house itself had issued its condemnation, causing all thought to leave him. Then a newer, larger shadow crept along the house’s walls, closer and closer to where Joe stood. Even the motes seemed to scatter in a frenzy as the human, with all his thumping and bumping and banging and clunking, disturbed the quiet peace of what had once been Joe’s sanctuary. Joe scattered along with them, skidding into the space between the floor and the pipe – but not before taking the brick of chocolate along with him.

In the safety of the floorboards, clutching his prize as it slowly melted into the sleeves of his jacket, he dared not move a muscle as the footsteps drew closer and closer, until they shook the wood above and hammered in his very head. He could faintly see the wooden slats shift under the human’s weight as the doctor knelt down to inspect what remained of his offering.

Through the floorboards, Joe could hear the incredulous doctor let out a low chuckle that somehow only managed to add further insult, for it was not unlike the way an adult would chuckle at a small child. Against his better judgment, Joe crept closer to the light above, pulled by that morbid curiosity, that lingering why. He only ever saw the doctor in glimpses, and each time it had been involuntary, but now he couldn’t help but find himself drawn back to the light above like a man in search of forbidden knowledge.

As he craned his neck up from his place in the darkness, Joe could just make out the blur of the human’s hands before he was blinded by the spark-and-burn of a struck match and the darkness was no more. His dumbstruck gaze was met with a single, gigantic eyeball peering at him from behind the flame, the orange light dancing across its bands of amber-brown colour. The eye blinked and narrowed, then widened into a shocked expression that matched Joe’s own.

Primordial fear overtook him at the sight. He fell back in shock, scrambled to his feet, and sprinted into the darkness. As he ran, the voice of the doctor, omnipresent as the voice of a god rang through him:

“Wait, don’t run! Come back!”

The floorboards shook again in what Joe could only imagine were the doctor’s attempts to pull the floor open and grab him. He didn’t know for certain what the man’s motives were and he didn’t care: he had escaped with his life and five thousand scraps’ worth of unpoisoned chocolate. The rest, Joe decided, as exhaustion forced him to come to a halt all the way across the other side of the house, he would figure out tomorrow.

Oh, how he wished this day had been a normal day like any other. Something told him tomorrow would be even worse.

If you've read this far, you may want to check out the next part here! Thank you so much for taking interest in my work.

I love this trip so fucking much it makes me wanna sqeeell

God I need to see more alien abduction fics where a human is taken by aliens to be studied but not in a weird way but in a “We honestly just think humans are really fascinating and we want to understand your species” way and the human is absolutely TERRIFIED and the aliens don’t want them to be and it’s just a constant give and take of the human and the small group of aliens studying them of gradual trust-building through scenarios of hurt and comfort.

Bonus points if it’s g/t. Bonus bonus points if it’s Transformers. God I just. I just love hurt/comfort fics so so much. Mayhaps I write a series based on this?

Hey I need some help finding a fic ? It’s a Peter Parker fanfic, I read it a while ago and I can’t remember the name now? So Peter gets put into foster care and they put him into a boys home? But it’s in a church kinda and so he lives their and they are super strict and stuff and so he gets on the computer and hacks into Tony’s network just to show how them how to hack and Tony notices tracks them down and gets all the kids , and then he later on discovers that they where being sexually abused? Anyways pls help me find this fic it’s been nagiing me for day

Hello! How are you?

I’m doing rly good x3 how are you :0!

Teefs

Oh no!

Awww 🥹

if you press on that blue button on moon's chest, will it make a honk sound? 0w0

Substitute acquired

Shmalls

Hoi guyss, im kinda in the mood to make scribbles of others dca aus as an attempt to put meself out there for once 👍💕

Some recommendations would be nice ehehh, just thinkin out loud rn :pp

I uh. yea.

(art under cut for tw reasons)

🫥

Siren Reader - The Depths Of Love

Look at that size difference

Excuse me?? THIS IS AWSOME RAHHHHH!! Ahhhhhhhh!!!!!!

Do you have more spider noir headcannons?

I DO!! NSFW BLOGS DNI IM A MINOR

He likes to let tinies sit on his fedora or in any of the numerous pockets he has on his coat. If it gets too cold for them to stay outside, he’s known to ask if he can nom them to keep them warm. underneath all those layers is undoubtedly cozy and comfortable, and while the chill doesn’t affect him as much, he feels all nice and warm inside knowing that he helped one of the people he cares about.

Will swirl his tongue around any tiny in his mouth. It’s more of a reflex than anything else but he finds it a bit soothing to absentmindedly mess with them, though he would never injure them.

he’s patient. If you want to just observe before getting nommed, he has zero problems with that. If you’re curious but still apprehensive, he doesn’t mind letting you run your hands over his tongue, observe his teeth, feel his lips under hand. He might lick you if he’s feeling playful nd he knows that you’re already fine with being nommed.

he has a strong throat. It only takes one or two swallows to send tinies down his throat. for bigger ones, it’s a bit more of a struggle but generally he can gulp down a borrower with relative ease. I feel like he might have slightly sharper teeth than the average person?

Likes to hum little tunes under his breath or whistle, so if you’re tucked away in his belly, it’s likely you’ll be able to hear his muffled voice through layers of flesh.

Doesn’t really prefer to eat tinies with any sort of food or beverage. He thinks it’s a bit rude to mess up someone’s clothing with food or anything. he does

he reads books aloud if he’s got a little guest taking a short residence within his stomach. He thinks it’s calming, being read to. Plus he has a soothing voice to listen to.

YIPPIE

theunseenlegion.thecomicseries.com

The Unseen Legion

Page 137

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Fr

The moment I realized I like vore most probably came from the magic school bus.

Like, at least one of the higher-ups had to be into vore, they included it in so many episodes.

Ehe~

Hello! If you still got slots for requests, may I ask for some soft vore with Earthspark Bumblebee? Hope that’s okay!

It is absolutely okay anon! Earthspark Bumblebee...whatta guy. Personally, he's one of my favorite Bee incarnations, so I really enjoyed writing this. Thanks for the request! Feedback is always appreciated! :D

I wanted to make the reader androgynous when it comes to the environment Earthspark takes place in for the sake of all of you who are imagining yourselves into the story. Just assume you live on the Malto property alongside Bumblebee to help train the Terrans and kids if you wish.

Warmth In Raindrops

Pairing: Earthspark Bumblebee x Human Reader

Warning: This story contains soft vore. If this is something that makes you uncomfortable, then please do not read this story.

Word Count: 1661

You can’t sleep.

  The thunder outside keeps you awake. With every crashing boom, you feel like there are a million trash cans toppling over outside, ringing painfully and causing your eardrums to ache. You shiver, drawing the covers over your head, your body curled up into a ball as you shrink back against your mattress. Lightning flashes through the window blinds. You feel like you are trapped within a haunted mansion despite being in your own bedroom.

  You can’t sleep like this, and if the storm continues at this ferocity, you won’t be earning a wink all night.

  More thunder. A whimper escapes your lips, and you squeeze your eyelids shut so tightly they hurt. You can feel the fatigue weighing you down, all the way from your bones to your brain. It’s quite pathetic to find yourself in this state. Childhood is long behind you; thunder is not something you should fear anymore. Yet, you’ve never managed to get over that instinctive dislike for loud sounds. And so here you are, with no way to escape the anger from the skies above, forced to tremble before their booming might.

  You don’t want to be alone.

  Slowly, you sit up and push the covers off of you. Each careful step you take through the house is illuminated by the lightning and shaken by the heavy drumming of raindrops. You have to dress yourself for the weather before you go outside. Your coat and boots do little to ward off the deluge, and as soon as you walk out the front door, you are soaked. Anxiety is quickly overcome by frustration. You run for the large red barn that sits a little ways off from the house, mud and water splashing in your wake as you keep your hood over your head. The comforting farm scents of hay and horse bring peace to your agonized mind when you slip through the doors and into the darkness.

  There are no animals, not right now. In the far corner of the barn, you see a hulking mass spread out on its back. It is big; bigger than anything else in the barn, the giant robot who is currently taking up residence here is fast asleep. You peel off your coat and boots, throwing them to the side before tiptoeing over to the black-and-yellow mech. Bumblebee is huge, even when he is laying down like this, but you feel no fear when you approach the recharging bot. He’s proven himself time and time again that he would never hurt you

“Bee,” you hiss.

Bumblebee snores.

  You sigh. “Bee.” You shake his arm lightly. “Bee, wake up.”

  He snorts and sits up sharply, optics flickering open with a start. “Huh? Wha…?” His gaze lands on you. “Oh. Y/N. What-what time is it?”

  “It’s midnight,” you reply.

  “Midnight?” He stretches his arms over his head and yawns like a big cat, large incisors on full display while blue light momentarily radiates from his mouth. “Why aren’t you in bed?”

  You look down at your feet and shrug, mumbling out a halfhearted answer that doesn’t form into proper words. He takes the sight of you in and softens.

  “Can’t sleep?” he whispers.

  You shake your head and hug yourself tightly. Bumblebee smiles sympathetically and rolls onto his side, opening his arms wide. “Come here.”

  You don’t need any more convincing. He laughs softly when you practically fling yourself into him. He curls himself around you, hugging you tight to his chassis. “Clingy tonight, aren’t we?”

  “Mm, shut up.” You slap him lightly. He laughs and coos, nuzzling his nose into your hair. “Cute little one,” he murmurs.

  More thunder causes you to stiffen. He notices and chuffs questioningly. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

  You tilt your head up to look at him. The glow of his optics is calm, his expression one of soft concern. It’s a bit embarrassing for you, a grown adult, to admit the answer, but the look he’s giving you silently implores you to trust him. You can tell him anything. He won’t judge.

“The thunder,” you reply.

  Bumblebee blinks. “Is it scaring you?”

  You bite your bottom lip and nod, lowering your head to sheepishly hide your reddening cheeks in your arms. The mech’s voice drops to a whisper. “Hey.” He dips his index digit under your chin and tips your head back up to meet his gaze. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I get it, I do.” He rubs his thumb up and down your thigh in a soothing manner and speaks with a honey-sweet tone. “Do you want to go inside?”

  You perk up a little. “You-you mean it?”

  “I wouldn’t have offered it if I didn’t,” he chuckles. “I know how sensitive your ears are to loud noises, and even though I can be quite…noisy…” He presses his a servo over his midsection, and you can hear an eager growl echo up from beneath his plating. “I know you would rather listen to me than the thunder. So c’mon.” He opens his intake, casting you in the cyan glow of his biolights. “You want in?”

  You hesitate, casting an uneasy look into the massive robotic mouth that’s so, so close to you. Warm air that carries the slight scent of gasoline wafts around you, beckoning you forward with hypnotic warmth. You’ve never allowed yourself to be…eaten by a Cybertronian before. You are aware of their capabilities, of how they can swallow a human down into their tank. You wouldn’t be digested. You’d be…warm…

  Bumblebee senses your nervousness and tries to soothe you with low purrs. He bumps his nose against you again. “There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he murmurs. “You’ll be safe. I promise, I’ll always keep you safe.”

  You inhale shakily. Warmth. Safety. You’ll take both over the thunder. So you sit up and reach your arms forward to carefully press your hands against his tongue.

  It’s soft, squishy. It doesn’t have a fleshy feeling to it, but rather its texture is like silicone, allowing you to sink into it with little resistance. Bumblebee looks down at you with a twinkle in his eye. Slowly, he shifts your hands to the side by curling his tongue up to taste them. The sensation of it rolling underneath your palms causes you to giggle. “T-That tickles.”

  “Does it? Sorry. You just…you taste really good.”

  “I…I do?”

  “Yes.” He presses his tongue up against your palms with more force. “I can definitely see myself craving you.”

  You giggle again. “I don’t know whether to be flattered or disgusted.”

  “Ehh, maybe both.” He laughs. “But I’d prefer the former over the latter.”

  He nudges you forward. You comply and allow him to guide you into his mouth. Climbing over giant teeth, you flop forward, biolight washing over you as you peer down his throat. He lifts his tongue to slide you further in. He’s patient with this; there’s no hunger in the way he draws you in, no sense of urgency or possessiveness. He lets you go at your own pace, and only when you are completely inside does he close his mouth. The sound of the thunder is barely audible now. You nestle in and close your eyes, soaking in the heat, content to remain like this for the rest of the night.

  Bumblebee hums. His tongue rises only a little, and you inch closer to his throat. Though he doesn’t gulp you down, from the way saliva is practically dripping from every surface of his mouth right now, you can tell he desperately wishes to swallow you. Not wanting to torture him any longer, you give him the all clear. “It’s okay, Bee. I’m ready.”

  Another hum is what you get for a response. He gives one last little lick to your face before he swallows.

  It’s a slow journey down. You close your eyes and let his esophagus carry you further into his body. All around you is the sound of his purrs. When you finally do slip into his fuel tank and sink into the thick, squishy cables that close in to hug you close, you feel such an intense level of comfort that it makes you want to beg him to keep you in here forever.

  “Y/N?” Bumblebee whispers for you. “Are you alright? Can you hear me?”

  “Mm.” You make a soft, relaxed noise. “M’ okay, Bee. I can hear you.”

  “Is it alright in there?” he asks. “Are you warm? Can you see?”

  “Bee, trust me, I’m fine. I’m very warm and I feel very happy.” You lay flat on your back and stare up at the tank’s “ceiling.” All around you, his biolights shine. It’s like a light show that feels so good to look at. “I don’t know why we haven’t done this before.”

  “I didn’t think you’d want to do it,” he says. “I haven’t done this with a human in…oh gosh, I want to say years, but it's probably been a decade.” The tank walls squeeze you in one big bear hug…or, bot hug, you think humorously to yourself. “But I’m glad I could do it again with you.”

  You smile and close your eyes. “You are such a sap.”

  “What can I say?” He squeezes you again. “I’m always a sap for you, little one.”

  You murmur incomprehensible noises and turn onto your stomach, squirming with a flustered feeling rising within you as your cheeks turn red. Bumblebee coos and cuddles you, wrapping his arms around his midsection to hold you tightly within. You say nothing else, and yet, you know you don’t have to. He understands. He always does.

  There is no thunder here. Only gurgles and purrs and his sparkbeat. You find yourself slipping off into sleep before you know it. Your rest is deep and undisturbed. It’s safe here. You are safe here. With him surrounding you, protecting you, there is no reason to remain awake.