Hiii :3 I have a fluffy request, lol. So randomly, my nerdy self learnee how to write ancient autobot, right? I can do it from memory now, and decepticon graffiti is next for me to learn.
Can there be a scenario where some of the bots/cons find little cute notes left around only to find out their s/o wrote them? I'd think it'd be cute :)
~SPADE♤🐈⬛️
Holy shit that’s so cool :0! I hope you don’t mind I went with Hound and Thundercracker
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Hound knew you were studying something but you never told or showed him what, you begged him to let it be a surprise knowing how observant he can be, honestly he’d be able to tell if you gave him a second to see, but you wanted this to he a surprise for him! And he’s not about to go against his sweetspark’s wishes.
So imagine his surprise when he finds a peice of paper in his glove box after dropping you off at your house. the hand writing is a little sloppy, but it’s in cybertronian autobot dialect and signed off by you.
‘I hope you have a good day, and be safe! I love you.’
- your love’
You learned cybertronian for him? You went out of your way to study his home language, just to surprise him with little notes for him? This was the surprise you wanted to keep for him until you learned it perfectly? He’s paused in the middle of the road just staring at it, he can feel his optics stinging and a smile just overtaking him.
Hound is driving right back to your home, waiting until the garage door closed before transforming to knock on the door. He sits down on the concrete waiting for you to open, though he knows it’ll be a moment as you’re getting out of your work clothes.
When you open the door in your cozy clothes, you are yoinked swiftly into his servos pulled close to his face plate and getting kisses littered across your face. You can’t help but laugh as his dermas tickle your skin, with each kiss being paired with an exaggerated ‘mwah!’
“Not that I’m not happy, but what is this all about? Or did you miss me that much, lover boy?” Your smile just makes Hound melt, and finally pressing his dermas to your lips.
You place your hands on his metal cheeks, holding him in this embrace just a few moments longer before he pulls away to let you breathe.
“I found your note. Did you really learn my home language just for that?”
“I wanted to leave you little notes so you could read them when we aren’t together.”
Hound lets out a pained wheeizng sound like an arrow just struck his spark, before your being smothered in his kisses once more.
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Thundercracker doesn’t ask much, he’s a ‘you’ll tell me when you want’ type of con especially to you, his little human. He does what he can to keep you safe and entertained while he works, he barely bats an optics when you ask him for books or files on cybertron. True, a part of him is happy you want to know about where he came from, but he doubts you’ll have much luck reading it without his help.
Which he did offer, but you denied him. He’s just happy you’re here with him so it doesn’t matter to him.
Until he’s going through the computer in his habsuite and notices a tab open that wasn’t there before, opening it shows him a little messily written message by you, clearly nips use to how big the controls were.
‘I left you some rust sticks in my side of the habsuite. I won’t be gone long but I’ll miss you! Love you!’
- kisses!’
He is suddenly regretting taking you to your friends house, he wants you here now he wants to hold you and kiss you for being far too sweet, far too good for him! You learned to read decepticon code for him?
He barely notices his habsuite door opens as he crumples to the floor groaning.
“Dude, you good?’ Skywarp leans over his friend, poking the blue seeker who just isn’t moving anymore.
“Ugh, you and that damn fleshie again, this is so gross.” Starscream rolls his optics as he notes the message on the computer, and totally isn’t jealous Thundercracker has a loving relationship.
When it’s time to pick you up, you best believe you aren’t leaving his habsuite fot a while, as he drowns you in so many kisses and refuses to stop cuddling you.
It’ll happen everytime he finds another note somewhere, so much so he starts going on the hunt for them checking everywhere he can just because he wants to read what you wrote, to have a physical copy of your love for him. You love him so much you do this for him, and he’s expected to not kiss you?
For requests, maybe Hound reacting/trying to help a human s/o who gets easily car sick? (Requesting this as someone who gets so easily motion sick lol)
_hound x reader
Hound most definitely is an observant partner, noticing demeanor changes or when his s/o isn't quite acting like themselves. if it's the first longer-distance trip the two of you have taken together, your silence and one-word replies are immediate cause for concern from his perspective. his rearview mirror tilts your way at every red light, catching the way your complexion has gone pale and your lips have pursed, form almost curled into a ball atop the drivers seat. Hound doesn't understand at first, you were fine a few minutes ago, how have you gotten so ill so quickly? straight away, the volume dial on the radio spins all the way to the left, his gentle voice rumbling through the speakers instead.
"What's the matter?" he gingerly inquires, slowly pulling off to the side of the road, likely into a empty parking lot or something alike to provide utmost privacy. somehow, you appear to have gotten worse, raspy yet considerate in asking him to roll down a window. anything to help, Hound does so in an instant, both front windows slipping downward to allow the evening breeze inside. you'd hardly blinked and his holo-form fizzles to life beside you in the passenger seat, if only to try and assess you the best he can. the fresh air helps, leaning your head against the door paneling to try and gather your bearings, attempting to refocus your thoughts on not getting sick. Hound frowns in the next seat over, but patiently waits for the offer of an explanation instead of bombarding you with questions that likely would do more harm than good.
after collecting yourself and extending the reasoning for the rapid change in your behavior, Hound completely comprehends and wants to do nothing else other than to assist. if there's anything he can do, he's on it, holding firm that once he started driving again, his holo-form was going to stay in the drivers seat. ""M the one draggin' you along on this road trip," he'd half-joked, but there was a seriousness to his tone as well, almost as if he wasn't accepting any protests from you, at least not any time soon. even so, you'd still quickly disagree and hold firm in your insistence that you were alright now. you were having fun, and wanted so badly to just be in his company and have some well earned one-on-one time. Hound cares about you and loves you so much that seeing you like this deeply disheartens him, the same feeling whenever you catch a cold or just generally are unwell. even worse, you were trying so hard to keep this to yourself if only to save him from fretting.
back on the road, if there's anything he can do to alleviate the symptoms, he's all over it. not that he isn't ever not careful with such precious cargo in his cabin, but he's extra observant to avoid bumpy roads or overly heedful to not take winding roads too briskly. the fresh air helps, so you've so kindly translated, as well as stopping a little more frequently than the two of you normally would. you try to apologize three times, feeling bad for throwing a curve ball into already hastily put together plans, but Hound won't hear it. "You've done nothin' wrong," he'd speak softly, his holo-form reaching over to pat your thigh affectionately. "Ya don't have a single thing to apologize for."
Hound's also the kinda mech to take a different route if it means a bit of a smoother ride. he wouldn't add mounds of extra time to the trip, especially if it's time-sensitive, but if a more even road pops up on his gps, he is one-hundred percent taking that path. a sense of relief finds him to see your color return, beginning to converse in sentences lengthier than your previous one-word replies. even if you begin to feel car-sick on shorter journeys, Hound can perceive the signs earlier on now, wanting to tend to your ailments and be there for you just as you always are for him. he can tell when something isn't right or you aren't wholly feeling like yourself, withdrawn or not. you are not a burden, and you are not a bother- he truly wants to help in any way that he possibly can.
[a/n: hound being an absolute sweetie part 4503284. as someone who gets car sick all the time, i feel this rq so so so much. ty peach!! 💕💕 ]
(Hound, Bluestreak, and Blurr x Non-Gender Specific Reader)
Rating: 16+ (Fluff)
TW: Language, Anxious Bots being a bit Overprotective.
Tap, tap, tap, tap.. tap. You mindlessly bounce your pen off the small round table made just for you, though all the other smallish colourful chairs are empty, it brings you great joy to have a little table all of your own, it makes you feel all important and special. But sometimes you'll get the urge to wander over and sit with some bots on their large specially crafted couches just across the room from you, just to socialize and be included.. but only sometimes. The repetitive clicks and plonks of your pen echoes off the walls in the large cosily decorated living space, giving you a surround sound effect of your bored stim.. and others in the room.
Though mostly unphased, the three mechs have begun to worry about your little noises, wondering if you're okay. They anxiously watch you from afar... Maybe you're lonely? You are seated pretty far away from them.. I mean, don't get 'em wrong, they would sit with you, but those chairs are far too small for bots their size. And they would sit on the floor next to you, but they don't wanna seem overbearing or cross a boundary or something. In their opinion, it certainly doesn't help that there's no other humans for you to talk to around the ship, they almost feel bad for you. They don't know what they'd do without their comerades to keep them level headed and sane... But then again, you've never seem bothered by the lack of socialization, so maybe that's not it. Maybe.. something happened. Something bad? A bad day at work? Spilled a drink on yourself? Burnt some food? After discussing it amongst themselves in a soft hush, one of them decides to pipe up and investigate, just to make sure you're doing okay.
"Hey Y/N!" Hound's voice breaks your stride, causing your pen to flop onto the table with a little 'Plink!'. Damn it! You were gonna make it blackflip. You glance over at him and the others, they're all neatly sat on the comedically large brown sofa nestled against the wall opposite from you, each sitting in their own sorta way. Blurr is manspreading with his hands doing.. various things, but currently messing with his servos, Bluestreak has his legs crossed with an arm thrown over the back of the couch, such a power pose, and Hound has his legs crossed with his hands neatly tucked into his lap, he's so polite.. Look at 'em, just a bunch of bros, broing out. You wonder what they've been doing over there. Talking about work? Sharing war stories? Maybe discussing some TV programs they all enjoy? They're not on the TV sofa though, they're just sat on the lounging one sort of off to itself.. Well, it has a friend, a nice matching recliner people often fight over, so not so off to itself.
"Hm?" You hum curiously as you continue to fiddle with your pen, you test out a new trick shot but fail miserably, flinging it onto the floor. You huff grouchily before you reach down and pick it up, then you swiftly continue your messing with it... Maybe you should take it apart and see what's inside it. No.. no, you'll never be able to put the damn thing back together.
Strange.. very strange. Is that a hobby of some kind I don't know about or is that an anxious tick? Hound ponders many possibilities as he speaks, his optics wander across your form as you continue to do stupid things with it. "What cha doin', kiddo?" He asks softly, just a hint of his worry manages to leak out and stains his tone, it makes you snicker a bit under your breath. They worry about you so easily, it's so sweet, you wonder what's gotten them riled up this time. "Just hanging out, y'know." You respond kind of vaguely on purpose, just to see what they'll do. You feel their worried stares drilling into the side of your head as you continue to do stupid little tricks with your pen, you attempt to swing it around on your fingers, but fail, it swiftly clatters onto the table with a 'Fwick!'.
The more tricks you do, the more anxious the bots.. unbeknownst to you. They all look at each other for any advice, then back at you once they realize they're all stumped. "Oh yeah..? And uh.." Hound looks to the side for a moment to contemplate and gather his bearings before his optics flicker back over to you. "What's that you're doing, right now? Playing with a pen?" You quickly look away as you cover your mouth, stifling a chuckle. He sounds like a concerned father. You take a deep breath through your nose, regaining your composure, before you turn back to meet his unfaltering gaze once more, allowing the hand that was once rested across your lips to settle underneath your chin. "Yep! Just uh.. messing with a pen." You confess blatantly as you pop the bottom of it on the counter top and watch as it jumps up with each click. You honestly just like to watch the pen, pens are incredible in your opinion, you love them so much. You can do so many things with them! You can write, you can click them, you can chew them, you can flip them, so many useful properties that people just don't grasp. Tisk, simpletons.
Hound and the others watch you silently for a bit before they look at each other and grimace, their expressions now laced with obvious worry. "Uhhh huh.. Well, tch, that's cool." Hound shifts in his seat, he throws his arms over the couch's back and awkwardly taps his servos across it. He's not quite sure what to do, when ever Cybertronians pittle with things it's usually a nervous reaction, but he's not sure about humans. Primus, he wouldn't wanna overstep and offend you in some way. He just hopes you're okay, honestly. Maybe all is fine and he's just overreacting.. yeah. He's just being overprotective again. Silly mech, control yourself.
On the opposite end of the couch sits another concerned mech, Bluestreak, and he's has seen quite enough of Hound's sad attempt at a conversation and decides to have a crack at it himself. "So.. Y/N." Bluestreak begins, the other two mechs quickly glance towards him, panic dancing across their features. Oh, Primus! He's gonna tattle! He's gonna spill the beans and tell Y/N that we're worried and make us look like a bunch of overbearing aftshafts! That damn blabbermouth! They both writhe in silent panic as they adjust their postures slightly, attempting to conceal their very obvious emotions that are very much already known by you.
"How are you today? You haven't really said much since you came in here other than a brief hello. I would love to hear some more from you, you must know by now that we love you and want to know everything about you, you're so interesting to us... So tell us about your day and what you did, even if it was just small mundane things. Just because you don't find them interesting, doesn't mean we will." He finishes his ramble, a small content smile rests on his pretty metallic lips as he watches you like a hawk, clearly trying to pick you apart mentally. Honestly, the other bots are impressed. They never even once thought to just ask how you were, that was super smart. Maybe Mr chatty cathy over there has more than just a couple thousand words rattling around in that big helm of his.
"Yeah, tell us about your day! Pretty please, pretty please?" Blurr swiftly adds as he continuously adjusts small things about the way he's sitting, like moving his hands or leaning back further or less, he's such a wiggle worm, it makes you laugh. Hound nods and beckons you to come closer with a graceful motion of his finger. You hesitantly get up from your cosy chair and wander over to them, making them all absolutely estatic, they straighten their postures and watch you eagerly as you approach.. They're so very excited for you to visit them, they love it when you visit.
Hound allows his legs to fall to either side, then he pats on his lap, inviting you up. You look at it for a moment before glancing up at him, his smiling joyful face is more than enough to make you concede, with a defeated sigh, you climb up into his lap. He giggles goofily before he wraps an arm around you and pulls you into a small hug, then he plants a big wet kiss on your cheek, making you giggle.
"Aw.. I wanna kiss..." Blurr pouts as he points to his lips and puckers up at you, you roll your eyes at him before holding out your hands towards his face, offering him some affection. Within and instant, his helm's in your hands, softly nuzzling and nudging against your touch. You snicker softly before you shake your head at him. "So touch starved.." You tease as you pull him close and kiss along the bridge of his nose to the very tip, then you plant a big loud kiss on his lips. A diabolical choice, well done. He quickly pulls away and giggles wildly to himself as he kicks his feet happily, his battle mask slips over his face as he shyly hides himself, practically tucking into a nervous ball before you. "Aw come on.." Bluestreak grumbles, he crosses his arms and huffs loudly. "What a suck up." Hound adds as he lifts your face up with a single servo beneath your chin and kisses you right on the lips, he lingers for a few moments before finally retracting and sighing contently to himself.
"Oh, for Primus' sake!" Bluestreak exclaims before he stands with a huff and rushes over to you, you only have enough time to look up at him before he's crotches down, intertwines his servos in your hair, and presses his lips against yours. Such an impatient man, he hates waiting for his turn. You moan softly before you slip your hands behind his helm and tenderly rub on his smooth plating, earning a soft content hum from him. He lingers for a while, feeling the softness of your lips pressed against his makes his spark burn red hot with energy, he almost can't bring himself to part. But he does, sadly and poutily, with a very visible frown on his lips as he pulls back and huffs grouchily. But seeing your little flabbergasted face turn into a giant happy smile makes him smile once again. He chuckles proudly as he takes a servo and rakes it lovingly across your cheek. He loves you, he hopes you know that. He hopes you know that he would do anything for you, anything at all to make you happy.
Suddenly, Hound reaches across you and pushes him over with a single quick movement, making Bluestreak flop over onto his back like a turtle. "Ahh!" He exclaims dramatically as he flails around wildly, Blurr finally 'comes out of his shell' and laughs his ass off at Bluestreak. He points at him and bends over as he grabs at his stomach, this is too good to be true. Bluestreak is rarely ever in any funny or humiliating situations, so when it happens, it's cherished by all who witnesses. "Oh, shut up, Blurr!" Bluestreak retorts grouchily as he finally manages to sit up, he scrunches his nose at Blurr and scowls... which just makes Blurr laugh even more. "Come on now, quit being nasty.." Hound reprimands, his optical ridges furrow and a clear look of displeasure is planted across his face, both of the bots look at him then sigh and make friends, they swiftly return to their original spots on the sofa. You have to say, watching Blurr about fall off the couch laughing was pretty funny.. and watching Bluestreak become a turtle for a few seconds, that's gotta be a winner...
But then just to stir the pot, Bluestreak quickly gets up and rushes over to you, he crotches in front of you and stares at you sweetly, clearly awaiting affection. Hound cocks an optical ridge at him as he watches him beg, he thinks this may be an all time new low for him. But in Bluestreak's mind, it doesn't count if you pet him. He's just accepting love.. who wouldn't! You giggle at him as you reach up and pat his cheek, to which he closes his optics and sighs, leaning into your touch. "Quit hogging Y/N, Bluestreak, we want a turn too!" Blurr grumbles, Bluestreak pulls an empty container of some kind out of his chassis and chunks it at Blurr, hitting him on the side of the helm when his head was turned. You and Hound watch as it pops off and flings to god knows where, you attempt to look around over the back of the sofa for it.. but it's vanished. Huh, strange. Blurr gasps dramatically as he slowly turns to face Bluestreak, who's smirking widely at him. Hound's grip around you tightens as he pulls you close to his chassis, protecting you from the impending cat fight.. how long has his hands been wrapped around your waist? You didn't even notice them. You knew they were there when he hugged you.. but did they just stay there after?
"Me? Hogging Y/N? You practically necked with 'em!" Bluestreak retorts with a huff as he playfully tackles Blurr onto the ground between the sofa and coffee table. You and hound watch on as they bicker back and forth for a while, softly nipping and pawing at each other like cats.. What babies.
"I know it seems.. ridiculous... But I don't know what I'd do without my teammates." Hound admits sheepishly, you glance up at him, his optics are half lidded and a small smile rests on his pretty lips as he watches them scuffle and argue in the background, he looks down at you and his smile widens, you can't help but smile back. He thinks you're so cute, doesn't he? "Comforts of home, huh?" You tilt your head and boop his nose, he closes his optics and sighs before fixing his gaze back to you. He nods and hums acknowledgingly as he turns to watch the boys for a while, his optics flicker from one part of them to another, he finds this very amusing. Eventually, he turns back to you. "What do you miss most when you're away from home, Y/N?" His question bounces around that empty noggin of yours for a while before you begin to answer. The boys perk up, suddenly freezing in their tracks upon hearing your soft quiet voice, they slowly meander back over to the side of the coffee table from across the room and crotch like little creatures, they lay their hands on the table as they observe you, listening attentively to every word you say.
"Hmm.. What do I miss the most? That's a tough one.." You sigh as you come to a conclusion. "But I suppose, the small things." You admit softly, Hound tilts his helm at you, so do the others. "Such as?" You look to the side, thinking long and hard for a bit before answering. "Such as.. my bed. You miss things as simple as the familiar feel of your bed sheets and the bounce of your mattress below.. The feeling of the cool side of the pillow when I turn it over at night..." You drift off as you think about your old bed in your own home.. you no longer miss it. The only bed you long to be in now is yours here. "Mattress..?" Blurr queries softly, you turn to look at them, you just now realized they've been listening too. They stare back at you wide eyed, watching you quietly with an interested look on their faces. But Blurr being Blurr, he's still wiggling about and tapping his servos on the wooden table top. It makes you smile, knowing they care enough to listen to you.. it's nice to be heard. "The thing people put the sheets over. You know, the boxy thing." You explain to the best of your abilities, they both 'Ohhh' at you before turning to each other and nodding then looking back at you with small content smiles. Blurr bounces happily, he's very giddy that you're sharing things with him, not many people tell him things.. let alone take the time to explain them. He appreciates your patience with him, he knows his speed can be a bit overwhelming to most.
"Things like.. the slight drip of a sink echoing through out the place.. it's annoying as shit at night.. But when you're away from it, you miss it. You just grow accustomed to it, I suppose." Hound hums softly before he shifts around and leans back in his seat. "I miss the sound of the city streets back on Cybertron.. before the war. The sound of people passing in their alternative forms, whizzing by from below the towering buildings built up high, the sounds just barely making their way through the viewing slates.. I miss it." He admits solemnly as he looks off into the distance. You feel bad for them, to be so far away from home.. it must be awful. You slowly brush your hand across his chest, snapping him out of his trance, his engine begins to rumble softly as you trace his plating with your fingers. He glances down at you and smiles widely, adoration dances in his optics as they observe your features. "I miss the sound of cereal pouring into my favorite bowl and the feeling of my favorite spoon in my mouth. And while you're away from home.. even small mistakes you've made in the past that once bothered you, turns into something you can look back at fondly. Like the one time I poured the milk first before the cereal.. messed up my ratio. Now I just look back at that and smile." You mumble as you look off to the side, remembering small things about your past.
Bluestreak and Blurr giggle at your tale and mumble some stuff in Cybertronian amongst themselves, who knows what they're saying. "If you miss home so much, why did you decide to live here?" Hound asks sorrowfully, you quickly glance back up at him, he looks away tearfully, he can't even bring himself to meet your gaze. He looks.. so hurt. You didn't mean like that, you love it here! You furrow your brows, a small smile graces your lips as you bring your hands up to his face, pulling him closer to you and making him face you. You hear the other bots worriedly chirping in the background, they mumble to one another in Cybertronian as they console each other. Poor babies, you don't know what they'd do without each other. Cybertronians are such loving beings, very social, they need each other to function properly. You feel honored to be adopted into their little social group.
A few tears welled in his optics slowly fall and slide down his face plating, you wipe them with your hands before planting a small kiss on his chin. "Because if I lived at home.. I'd miss you guys. And I love you a whole lot more than the small things I missed back at my place. I love it here! Honestly! I'm perfectly fine, Hound.." You assure softly, making all the bots 'Aww' and coo at you. "We'd miss you if you were gone.." Blurr admits sheepishly as he wiggles about uncomfortably on his feet. "Yeah, we're used to you now, you're banned from leaving." Bluestreak announces with confident 'Hmpf!', making you snicker. Hound bumps his face against the back of your neck, you glace over your shoulder at him. "I'd miss you too, beautiful."
hiii peach!! 💞💞💞 i love love love your art & style!!! for your post, & only if you'd like, what about Hound & a high five/fist bump?? (I absolutely adore how you draw Hound, omg) I feel like he'd be the celebratory type with his s/o! hope you're having an amazing week!! 🫶🫶
Omg, thank youuu ❤️❤️❤️ I really need to draw Hound more. He’s a cutie. I’m like revamping an oc I have for him because I need to ship him with a human badly.
And I love reading your writing!! Especially for Hound, Bluestreak, Ultra Magnus, and First Aid.
Domesticity and Other Distractions: Hound x Reader fic (PART 1)
|| So I really am excited working on this little thing, but it's starting to turn into a big thing and I have to break it up. This is the first part in idk how many parts and it's just the fluff for now. Hope you like it!! ||
Fluff inbound!!
The early morning rays shine brightly into the garage and you’re just getting off the night-shift. You don’t really want to move from this spot in Hound’s driver seat. Here everything is nice and calm and relaxing. You don’t have to deal with cleaning the house that your roommates surely left a mess from the night before, you don’t have to answer phones from people who dial the wrong number to your work, and here you don’t have to hear all of that garbage on the television. You don’t have to make any decisions, you don’t have to perform any tasks, you don’t even have to think. Here with him, you can just be.
Hound keeps the radio on low, some soft crooning country song from the 80’s or 90’s humming in the background. He knows you’ve been working hard. He can see it in the way your shoulders sag, the way your eyes droop, the low tired rasp in your voice; You’ve been two seconds from recharge – sleep you call it – since he picked you up. He knows you need your rest. Maybe he could recline the chair for you just a bit? No, if he does that, you’re sure to be out like a light. You need to sleep in a real berth.
Hound materializes his holomatter avatar and opens the driver side door. You jump a little at his appearance but relax once again as you let him lift you out. Even like this he’s handsome and strong. He holds you to his chest like a newlywed. Looking up at him from where you rest your head against him, seeing the sun catch in his pretend body and the slight shimmer to his hair, he looks like the cover of those cheesy romance novels you see at the pharmacy. He’s golden and hazy and his touch is gentle and secure, and, most of all, this cowboy is all yours. You can feel your cheeks heat as a smile cracks your face.
“Now what’s got you all smilin’?” he grins from ear to ear.
“Oh nothing, just happy to be with you.”
His spark thrums in his chest. How can someone so small lay a big bot like him flat out like that with just a few words? His hands keep you tighter to him and he turns to make his way into your home, sporting a pink dusting of his own.
“Ah’m happy to be with you too.”
You use the hand that isn’t wrapped around him to open the door, and he steps into the empty home. You’re glad there’s no one here at the moment. You’d surely be ridiculed by the others for being carried in. They’d start chanting about you and Hound sitting in a tree again and you don’t think your heart could handle the embarrassment.
“Where’s all your roommates?”
“Working their day jobs. I’d better get my rest now while they’re away. Lord knows they’ll be rowdy once they get back.” You make to get off of him, but Hound doesn’t let you down.
“I know you’re tired, darlin’. Why don’t you let me take you up to bed? You said your feet have been killing you, and I can’t have you dyin’ on me.”
Knowing Hound, behind that boyish humor, he’s serious about doing it, but the thought of him seeing your bedroom unkempt and messy has you wanting to tell him no. The rest of the house is explainable as your fellow inhabitants, but your room is all your own fault. You don’t want him to see you and your mess nest! On the other hand, staying wrapped up in his arms sounds like heaven. Can he even carry you up the stairs? Plus, wouldn’t it be weird for him to walk back through the house alone when he goes to leave? He could just disappear, but that would be weird too?
Hound can see the gears turning in your head and the uncertainty that looms behind your eyes. Maybe you don’t want him to carry you? He could definitely do it; you weigh nothing to him. Hell, he could hold you all day if you’d let him. He wouldn’t put you down for anything, Prowl and his paperwork be damned.
“Are you sure? It’s a little messy. I haven’t been home or awake long enough to clean it and there’s piles of clothes everywhere…” You look away from him, embarrassment red on the tips of your ears.
“Oh, if you’re worried about the mess, don’t worry. Ah’ve seen the way Cliffjumper leaves his hab. I’m sure if I’d left you alone in there you wouldn’t be able to find your way out.”
You breathe out a laugh through your nose and he smiles, glad you’re not frowning.
“If you insist…”
“Ah promise it’s not as bad as you make it out to be, darlin’.”
With that he walks through your home and up the stairs. He’d only ever been in here a couple of times: once when you invited him in to watch some television on the couch; another time when he came to make sure you were alright after the power went out, he insisted staying with you throughout the night until it came back on; and another time when he met your friends for a roommate game night, he’d had a blast until one of them asked how long you two had been dating. There was nothing wrong with the question but having to explain to an alien robot what dating was and what it meant had to be right up there with giving a sex ed talk to an out of touch, overly sheltered family member.
Once he’s up the stairs and at your door, you again open it for him. He’s not wrong about it being as bad as you imagined, it’s worse. Your undergarments, half drank drinks, and personal care products are strewn over almost every available flat surface, and the chair in the corner as well as your desk chair are piled high with not quite dirty laundry. Many of the items you’ve only worn once but couldn’t justify calling it dirty as, again, it’s only been worn once. The floor is also covered in a light scattering of clothing. Clothes, clothes, clothes. At the center of the mess is a definitely slept in bed that looks more like a nest you fell out of than a regular respectable sleeping space. It didn’t look this bad last night, you swear!
“So this is your room, huh?” he says as he looks around at the decorated walls and the fluffy floor – “carpet” you called it, right? Then he looks to the hooks for your hoodies and wonders aloud what that “little patterned fabric” was for. Oh lord, not the spotted underwear!
“Okay, that’s my cue to clean all of this up right now,” you clamber down from his hold and start tossing water bottles in the nearest overfilled trashcan and dashing to pick up much of the unmentionables, “If you want, you can just hang downstairs or back in the garage. I’ll come get you when I’m done,” you pause and face him face flustered, “if you’re staying, that is..? I don’t mean to assume, I just thought…” You add that last bit almost forgetting that he might have patrol or some other assignment.
The way you’re looking at him, like he’s someone you want to impress, makes his tanks do flips, could you get any cuter?! You think he cares if your room is a little messy? You could live in a dumpster, and he’d still spend every last bit of his free time trying to see you and spend time with you. What your house looks like never bothered him, as long as you’re there he’s happy. Not to mention you look so hopeful for him to stay. He couldn’t turn away even if he wanted to, not that he ever did.
Hound just smiles back at you and happily announces, “Ah didn’t plan on going anywhere, so, unless I get a call, I’m all yours for the next ten hours.”
Seeing your eyes light up has him ready to jump for joy with you! It’s like that time you watched him pull into your driveway after a month of being on a long-distance mission. You’d rushed right into his arms thankful to see him. It was lucky no one was home and that you’d lived far from the main roads, otherwise you’d have to explain alien robots and sentient cars, but that was the last thing on your mind when you were more interested in showering him with love. That was when you’d shared your first kiss.
“Ah’m sure I’ll find something to occupy me while you do your thing up here.”
“Sounds good! I shouldn’t be too long,” you say diving back into your room, but not before dashing up to him and giving him a peck on the cheek that leaves him glowing.
the day it occurs, it also happens to be the day Hound typically picks you up from work. it's by total, albeit poor coincidence, perhaps he would have gotten away with dodging you a little while longer if he could have scrounged together a feasible fabrication of the truth. that in itself disgusts him to even think, to feel as if he has to dodge you, when in reality there was no particular justification he had to even formulate such an outrageous thought. if there was one thing he hated more than this, it would be lying to you when he had no real reason to do such a cruel thing, so instead, he pushes off telling you, opting to convince himself that he needed just a shred of more time.
taking in this withheld information from your perspective, it was strange you hadn’t heard from him since the night prior, unaccustomed to the radio silence when you’ve been spoiled with his regularly fast replies. he'd been very aloof all morning and afternoon, even after you had tried to reach out to him on a few sporadic occasions. it was in attempt to break this unfamiliar circle of quiet: asking him how his day was and what he was up to, but all extensions of your steadily rising concern were met with unprecedented silence. while a bit concerning, it wasn’t entirely out of the ordinary, as often times Hound was pulled from his normal schedule and was left with no time to explain his inopportune disappearance. it wasn't any cause for immediate dread, as one could understand his retreat once he had explained his role and responsibilities not too long ago. perhaps your accidental slip of “I was so worried about you,” was the cause of the conversation, but he’d also relayed how it was important for you to stay in the loop, too.
even with all that recalled and acknowledged, it didn't help the pit in your stomach when you discovered his usual spot empty, a parking lot void of any olive-green jeep. it causes your lips to purse together, that overfamiliar swirl of anxiety resting heavy upon your chest. faintly trembling fingers fumble for the door handle, tugging it shut when the wind threatens to sweep it back open once more, as tired eyes scan the lot a second round as if you’d somehow missed him the first time. as the back door slams over at your heels, a pair of headlamps alight to your left, pulling out of the parking spot and driving up just beside the curb where you stand.
it's a familiar color, a slate-blue sports car that you are always more than happy to see, regardless of the knot that still wrenches tighter in your stomach. you search to stifle your worry, but it quickly becomes a futile task as unease seizes you again upon glancing down at your phone to find no explanation. so accustomed to messages, no reasoning at all was beginning to raise some red flags.
Couldn’t bargain with Cliff enough to cover the rest of my shift, sorry darlin'.
or, you could almost picture a:
Bluestreak is gonna pick you up today, love. Promise I’ll see ya later.
but your screen remains blank, no notification to hush the now rampaging disquiet, terrified to take the step forward to descend the stairs. what if the moment you do, Bluestreak is going to deliver news that you simply cannot handle- your feet now glued to the concrete as if it would delay the inevitable. the mere thought of something being very wrong causes you to swallow thickly, swiftly blinking away a round of tears that rise rather unexpectedly to the surface. no, you’re overreacting, forcing the soles of your shoes off the ground and pushing onwards, observing as the passenger door pops open, Bluestreak's bubbly voice carrying throughout the cabin and out into the chilly air.
"Hi," he starts, knowing you have a plethora of questions just by the look on your face. "I hope you had a nice shift."
"Hi, Blue," you return, happily taking the seat offered to you with zero hesitation, vying to cast aside your climbing unrest. "I did, thank you. How's your night going?"
"Well, that's nice to hear. Mine's been meh." Bluestreak rumbles, closing the door for you once he'd gathered you were all settled in the seat that he’s so kindly labeled as yours. after another handful of seconds or so, he starts down a route he’s taken a few times before, though he’s nowhere near as familiar with it as Hound is, nudging you every so often with the question: do I take a right here, or is it a left?
"Just 'meh'?" you inquire, hugging your backpack to your chest to seek some comfort. "Did something happen?"
if you know how loaded that question is, you don’t give yourself away so easily. they had all expeditiously discovered it was only in your nature to dig for the root of their troubles; Bluestreak knew well how your compassion tended to overflow whenever someone was hurting. it had come initially as a shock to many who were not accustomed to such on the daily, but the benignity you extended knew no bounds, and it made perfect sense how well you and Hound got along. Hound was just the same, adamant about remaining optimistic among this budding mess they'd stumbled into on Earth. so jovial when for the most part, the cards were not dealt in his, or anyone on the teams favor. in an instance where you were brought up in conversation in a praising manner but were not around to hear it, Sideswipe had joked it was almost as if the two of you were made for each other, to which Hound’s cooling fans had kicked on with an instantaneous click.
maybe, if Bluestreak wasn't sworn to secrecy on the subject, then this entire conversation wouldn't feel so painful. still, he’d promised Hound he would let the mech speak for himself, though he just wasn’t ready to do it yet, not with everything still so fresh. Hound was the farthest thing from conceited, but it did make a smidge of sense why he was still a little apprehensive to impart on a rather…glaring detail. but that didn't erase the eagerness that builds within Blue to soothe your malaise, watching the tensity arise within your shoulders as each deafening second ticked by.
"Oh, the usual nonsense," he tries, which isn't a total exaggeration of the truth. "Don't worry about Hound, y/n. He said he'd give you a call later tonight, and explain."
Bluestreak nearly ex-vents in relief watching your body language loosen, body sinking a little deeper into the leather of his seats. "Thank you," you whisper, a faint smile adhered to your lips.
it’s late, long past the hour when he knows you’d normally be asleep.
for conscientious hours, Hound’s been staring at his comm device, digits hovering above the call button, as if bravery might come to him if he just stared at it long enough. he was still punishing himself by not answering your earlier messages, but one Bluestreak had dropped you home, he mentioned that you were immensely concerned by his vanishing for the rotation. Hound desired to see you so badly, to apologize a million times over for making you worry, but at the present moment, he wouldn't be able to handle the fear in your eyes.
instead, another twenty minutes escape him, the circular green button taunting him, the same way his reflection jeers at him in the screen of the device. he tries to smile, searching for approval in the dimly lit room, but there is no one here to soothe him, not a soul to cast aside his doubt- for it seeps from the walls, threatening to drown him in the prison he’s locked himself inside since this morning.
he can’t believe his own servo as it defies every single excuse to not yield to that selfish impulse, gingerly pressing the call button with immeasurable guilt, but still so desperate to hear your voice.
now, having showered and curled up in bed, your tired eyes linger on the black screen of your phone, hoping for at least a good night message from Hound, or perhaps a video call, the kind he liked to make whenever his schedule got hectic. with the lights out, your bedroom is wrapped in darkness, patiently waiting for a response to your missed call and good night text. you didn’t wish to appear overbearing, overstepping a boundary to which he’d find your double-texts aggravating. instead, you opted to act as if he’d answered you all along, playing into the normalcy as if he’d truly bid you good night, and not pry an inch further until he reached out with his explanation.
not that you were necessarily owed one, but Bluestreak's voice kept playing over and over in your mind like a broken record, and for some reason you’d taken his attempt to comfort you as fact. surely, he’d have mentioned if something was truly amiss, and Hound would never shun or scold you for feeling how you feel right now at this very moment. Hound was as gentle as they come, an impressive feat for a twenty-something foot tall mech that lets you pepper his face with kisses and mumble i love you’s across his lips. anything anyone assumed Hound to be, he was was not, truly the embodiment of empathy and benevolence that sometimes, you never quite felt deserving of.
yet, you'd feel awful in the morning if you'd missed his call or text, but conceivably, it was possible Hound had been pulled away from base once more, unable to explain his predicament. tossing and turning did nothing to lull you to sleep, and every time your eyes closed, terrible flashes of assumption flickered through your mind. you couldn’t help but wonder how bad things must be for him to withdraw so completely, so unlike the way Hound would ever handle a situation, at least as long as you've known him.
it took another hour or so as your heavy eyes finally began to slip shut, the same time the screen of your phone alighted, illuminating the whole room. straightaway, now wide awake, you grab the device and answer the call, downright elated to hear the voice of -
"Hi darlin'," he hums, but something sounds slightly off, as if his mouth was muffled by a detail you couldn't quite place. "You have no idea how sorry I am."
“Don’t be silly.” the relief drains from you the same way the blankets pool around your waist, a small smile unable to be pried from your lips. “I was worried, but I’m happy to hear from you.”
a beat of silence, and then he clears his throat. “How was your day?”
the conversation carries, but strays from the normal exchanges the two of you often share so late into the evening. you take immediate notice of the way how Hound finds immense difficulty to keep pace, and thrice you’ve caught him zoned out, a sheepish reply of you to repeat what you just had said. without hesitation, you had tried to reel him back in, prompting him with inquiries of his own day and how he was doing, but every stretch of silence ended with your gentle extension, mumbling his name as if he were never truly there. you had no place to outright ask why he hadn’t met up with you today, but his dance around the subject made you feel that the reason was something far worse than what you had surmised.
“‘M bein’ awful company.” he rumbles after a beat of silence, tone an overly critical one. “You get your rest, y/n, and ah promise, I’ll stop by and see ya tomorrow.”
though not so easily convinced, you concede to his request, parting ways with a soft good night, reluctant still with none of your previous woes pacified. something was amiss, bothering him to the point where distraction was wrapped around him like a vice and refused to let go, a troublesome notion that had that same pit settling once more in the bottom of your stomach.
if Hound could be proud of one thing in reference to himself, it was that he wasn’t a liar. if something disrupted his initial promise, he came clean straight away, never wishing to break your trust when you had offered it to him so kindly, and dare he say effortlessly, shooting him that adorable smile that makes his spark thrum happily in his chest. to lie, especially over something so trivial makes him feel gross, repulsed by his own behavior and inability to just come clean.
Hound never does stop by to see you the next day, nor the day after that.
it appears he’s fully fallen out of touch with you, both in-person and regarding communicating via technology. there was no one else to ask of his condition, because you had no other way to contact the Autobots other than through Hound, per his insistence and assurance.
“Ah’ll always answer,” he’d murmured, extending his over-full sincerity. “No need to get any more wires crossed for no good reason.”
but he hadn’t answered, not for a good forty-eight hours. to make matters worse, there was no option for you to choose, everything from that initial contact onwards left the ball in Hound’s court. you didn’t know where The Ark was, Hound always drove you over there- you didn’t have any way to contact anyone else, Hound had assured you no matter what, he'd answer in a timely manner. without Hound, you had no way to check on him, to ascertain he was alright and not devoured by his own thoughts.
a firm but gentle noise cuts through your thoughts like a knife, the sound of a car horn.
you cross the room in seconds, skating across the hardwood to fumble for the front door, flipping the lock and spinning the knob. your heart just about drops to your feet, eyes in glassy disbelief to find the same olive-colored Jeep you had been looking for three days prior, pulled up against the curb with the engine idling.
but the relief doesn’t last, as a heavy tone settles over his cabin. he isn’t chipper, hardly excited the way you were overeager moments prior, pink knuckles swiping aside a few rogue tears. it’s as if you’ve met a stranger, feeling the coldness radiate off once a warm and cheerful mech, purposely being blunt as if to instill the breaching silence over the course of the drive. you had no idea where he was taking you, terrain unfamiliar and certainly not the same path enroute to The Ark. your eyes temporarily flit to the door handle, wondering if this was a bad idea, clearly he wasn’t in the right frame of mind for company…
that thought is swept away as you squeeze your eyes shut, weakly shaking your head left to right twice as if it would remove the concept entirely. if something was wrong, which it clearly was, Hound was seeking you out for assistance, or even to volunteer an explanation, just having a bit of trouble conveying such.
the drive lasts another ten minutes, encapsulated by a silence you can only describe as unnatural. it comes to completion within an area you were familiar with, though, a grassy clearing amongst woven and thickets of trees that Hound’s brought you to a plethora of times. it appears he’s taken the long way there, a strange feat, but you oblige when the passenger door pops open, a wordless invitation.
for a prolonged five minutes, you stand awkwardly beside him, fingers wringing together as your rock back and forth from your heels to the tips of your toes. your mouth parts to try and scrounge together something useful to say, but such confidence escapes you, swept away by the chilly autumn air.
you can’t help the gasp that leaves you when he suddenly transforms, drawing himself to his impressive height, but keeping his back to you rather adamantly. finally, having had enough, you take a brave step forward, swallowing another round of tears.
“Hound?” you urge, hoping to catch sight of his expression to try and understand just what this was all about, but he’s squared his shoulders, trying to appear larger and ward off anything in his immediate radius. “Is something the matter? You’re…you’re starting to scare me,”
as if someone had punched him in the gut, his frame slackens, his helm yanking upward at the tremble easily detectable amongst your words. there’s a reason for his behavior, and it’s likely if you knew it, the two of you wouldn’t be standing here like this, and he wouldn't have-
he wouldn’t have scared you.
“M’sorry.” he muses, and once again it sounds muffled and slightly distorted. “Ah didn’t- didn’t mean to, I jus’ can’t…”
“What’s wrong?” you entreat, searching to keep the warble at bay within your question. “You can talk to me about anything, Hound. You haven’t been yourself-”
your breath hitches as he turns slightly to meet your eyes, gaze tilted low but there’s an outrageously loud cry for help welled into his optics, filled with a terror you’ve never known him to possess. when you don’t finish your sentence, he exhales sharply, realizing that this is it, he must either face everything now or avoid you for the rest of his life. the latter, he knows full well, is something he could never abide by.
“C’mere, darlin’,”
in the darkness, you don’t catch it right away. it almost melds into the moment, your sole focus on getting as remotely possible as you scramble across the grass, himself carefully lowering to a knee before you with open arms. the absolute relief to see him acting like his normal self temporarily blinds you, the feeling of one servo meticulously cupping your bottom as he stands back upright, overcautious not to jostle you.
“Now ah’ve gone and made you cry,” he rumbles, and the obvious distortion to his words causes your eyes to raise upward, meeting him with overbuilt surprise. as he brings you to his face, a servo tugs free, a knuckle brushing aside a few tears that have slipped free. “S’last thing I wanted ta do,”
a breathless gasp tumbles from your lips, leveraging yourself as one palm comes to rest upon the wound. Hound searches your eyes, hyperfocused and almost hell-bent on finding detestation or fear within them, but all he discovers is overflowing worry, another round of tears threatening to spill over rosy cheeks.
without question, he leans into your touch, his free servo coming to lay overtop your own.
“Does it hurt?” you whisper, thumb ghosting over the exposed metal.
you never ask the how, he recalls. first and foremost, you wanted to ensure he was alright, prompting him if the injury could still cause him pain a few days after it occurred. the how didn't necessarily matter at the given moment, but to you, his emotions certainly did, hoping to be the calm in the rampaging storm that was his thoughts.
“Nah. Not anymore.”
a crude and jagged cut hooks around the corner of his mouth and spans across his cheek, deep and appearing immensely painful. he’s trying to smile, you watch as his lips twitch but never quite raise in full, still studying you with utmost care, as if searching for an ounce of recoil. Hound doesn’t care in reference to his own vanity, he was terrified to scare you. you had never been one for superficial things, a truth Bluestreak had tried time and again to impress upon him, though Hound had always known it. he was certainly aware of the fact that he wouldn’t be able to handle the aversion or rejection within your colorful iris’ if there was any to be found, wanting to still be yours but afraid to ask.
he loves you, and this distance from you only made him realize just how much he was absolutely devoted to you.
“You’ve got the prettiest smile.” you rasp, tilting your head to the side to match his movement. “I’m sorry you had to go through this alone.”
“Only one ta blame is myself.” he gathers your hand between two digits, bringing them up to his lips to deposit a few kisses atop your warm skin. “Hoist said s’gonna be a while ‘fore he can fix it. Ah guess that’s why I was so hesitant to tell ya…ah didn’t know how to tell you, ‘n keepin’ it to myself was startin’ to hurt so bad,”
“I knew something was wrong when you sent Bluestreak to pick me up from work,” sending him a lopsided smile, a comforting tone permeating through your words. “I just didn’t want to pry. But I did miss you, so much.”
Hound falters, the knot in his stomach pulling tighter at the look upon your face. “How can I make it up to you?”
with null hesitation, you use the tip of your index finger to tap at your cheek, searching for something in particular. “A couple of these would suffice.”
heedful of his actions and keen to make you laugh, Hound happily obliges, leaving a few sloppy kisses over your collarbone and up your neck, finally landing atop your cheek. “Y’sure there’s nothin’ else?”
you lean forward, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose. “No, not that I can think of.” you jest, giggling when a digit comes to skate across your belly, ticklish even above your layers.
Hound makes a noise in the back of his throat, holding you impossibly closer. “Ah really am so sorry, sweetspark.”
“There's nothing to be sorry for.” you leave one last kiss to the corner of his mouth, hoping it eases the last of his worries. “As long as you’re okay, we’re okay.”
[a/n: round one of the unfinished fics from the drafts! a heads up: this is unedited, & ends extremely abruptly.]
the day it occurs, it also happens to be the day Hound typically picks you up from work. it's by total coincidence, perhaps he would have gotten away with dodging you a little while longer if he could have scrounged together a feasible fabrication of the truth. if there was one thing he hated more than this, it would be lying to you when he had no real reason to do such a cruel thing, so instead, he pushes off telling you, opting to convince himself that he needed just a shred of more time.
from your perspective, it was strange you hadn’t heard from him since the night prior, unaccustomed to the radio silence when you’ve been spoiled with his regularly fast replies. he'd been very aloof all afternoon, as you had tried to reach out-asking him how his day was and what he was up to, but all extensions of your steadily rising concern were met with unprecedented silence. it wasn’t entirely out of the ordinary, as often times Hound was pulled from his schedule and was left with no time to explain his inopportune disappearance. it wasn't any bother, you fully understood once he had explained his role and responsibilities to you.
with all that recalled and acknowledged, it didn't help the pit in your stomach when you discovered his usual spot empty, parking lot void of any olive-green jeep. as the back door slams over at your heels, a pair of headlamps alight to your left, pulling out of the parking spot and driving up just beside the curb where you stand.
it's a familiar color, a slate-blue sports car that you are always more than happy to see. you try to stifle your worry, but it seizes you once more upon glancing down at your phone to find no explanation. you've hardly taken a step forward and the passenger door pops open, Bluestreak's bubbly voice carrying throughout the cabin and out into the chilly air.
"Hi," he starts, knowing you have a plethora of questions just by the look on your face. "I hope you had a nice shift."
"Hi, Blue," you return, happily taking the seat offered to you with zero hesitation, vying push aside your climbing disquiet. "I did, thank you! How's your night going?"
"Well, that's nice to hear. Mine's been meh." Bluestreak rumbles, closing the door for you once he'd gathered you were all settled in your spot. after another handful of seconds or so, he starts down a route he’s taken a few times before, though he’s nowhere near as familiar with it as Hound is.
"Just 'meh'?" you inquire, hugging your backpack to your chest to seek some comfort. "Did something happen?"
if you know how loaded that question is, you don’t give yourself away so easily. it was only in your nature to dig for the root of his troubles; Bluestreak knew well how your compassion tended to overflow whenever someone was hurting. maybe, if he wasn't sworn to secrecy on the subject, then this entire conversation wouldn't feel so painful. still, he’d promised Hound he would let the mech speak for himself, though he just wasn’t ready to do it yet, not with everything still so fresh.
but it didn't erase the eagerness that builds within him to soothe your uneasiness, watching the tensity arise within your shoulders.
"Oh, the usual nonsense," he tries, which isn't a total exaggeration of the truth. "Don't worry about Hound, y/n. He said he'd give you a call later tonight."
Bluestreak nearly ex-vents in relief watching your body language loosen, body sinking a little deeper into the leather of his seats. "Thank you," you whisper, a faint smile adhered to your lips.
it’s late, long past the hour when he knows you’d normally be asleep.
for hours, Hound’s been staring at his comm device, digits hovering above the call button, as if bravery might come to him if he just waited long enough. he was punishing himself by not answering your earlier messages, but one Bluestreak had dropped you home, he mentioned that you were immensely concerned by his vanishing for the rotation. Hound wanted to see you so badly, to apologize a million times over for making you worry, but at the present moment, he wouldn't be able to handle the fear in your eyes.
instead, another twenty minutes escape him, and he presses the call button, wanting so desperately to hear your voice.
curled up in bed, tired eyes watch your phone for at least a good night message from Hound, or perchance a video-chat that he liked to do whenever his schedule got hectic. with the lights out, your entire bedroom was enveloped in a darkness, patiently waiting for a response to your missed call and good night text.
you weren't owed a reply, but Bluestreak's voice kept playing over and over in your mind. you'd feel awful in the morning if you'd missed his call or text, but conceivably, it was possible Hound had been pulled away from base once more, unable to explain his predicament.
just as heavy eyes begin to slip shut, the screen of your phone alights, illuminating the whole room. straightaway, now wide awake, you grab the device and answer the call, downright elated to hear the voice of -
"Hi darlin'," he hums, but something sounds slightly off, as if his mouth was muffled by a detail you couldn't quite place. "You have no idea how sorry I am."
