#tfa/reader

[spikezonebby]

Okay, okay I wanna see what you come up with for this song. “Sew My Name” by Josh Pike (the live version at the Sydney Opera House is the best version in my opinion).

GN!Reader x TFA!Ratchet with a dash (or more than a dash) of cathartic angst.

Sew My Name - TFA!Ratchet/GN!Human!Reader

Word count: 1,667

You liked to leave your mark wherever you went.

For as long as Ratchet had known you, you loved to leave something of yourself behind. You thought it important that the universe knew you existed in some capacity. You carried a knife around in your back pocket so you could carve your name into tree bark. One evening, you had asked him to show you how to sew. You wanted to know, so you could sew things into the collars of your clothes.

Ratchet always thought clothes were kind of a strange human invention. What good was armor that didn’t protect anything? Winter clothes, that was a different story. Humans had less-than-stellar temperature regulation so it made sense that you needed that.

Didn’t stop you from shoving your hands into the warm mesh just under his chassis whenever you got chilly, though.

If Ratchet had had any idea how much he’d miss the little things you did, he would have savored it longer. Been a bit more hesitant to pluck you off of him, or tried to close the distance between you a little more. 

Bumblebee was lucky, the little scrap. He was lucky because his favorite organic was actually a techno-organic and would live a long, long life alongside him. For Ratchet, it seemed like with every visit back to Earth from Cybertron, there was less of you to go around. 

Then one day, there wasn’t any of you left.

You passed away on a seemingly innocuous Tuesday evening and he didn’t even hear about it until the next time he came to Earth to check up on Sari. She broke the news to him, and he wasn’t even sure if he felt sad or not. Perhaps he’d been mourning all this time in preparation for the news, knowing how short organic lives were. He knew what he did feel though.

He was angry. Angry, raging, pissed off beyond belief that you could put so much of yourself into the universe, only for it to not even blink or grimace in your absence. He wanted to drag Primus himself down by his audials and give him what for.

“Doc-bot, I didn’t even think you were that close with them.” Sari said, setting a hand– or were they servos now? He still wasn’t sure with her unique anatomy— on the back of his calf.

“Why wouldn’t I be? I was their primary doctor! Not only that but they were a part of the team, weren’t they?”

Sari didn’t really have an answer for him, she wasn’t really looking at him even when he turns to face her. After the battle with Megatron and his copies of Omega Supreme, things changed. It was largely for the better, with Team Prime being accepted as heroes. Prowl’s death, though noble, shocked all of them to their cores. It’s been decades since then and Sari had gone from a teen to an upstanding young femme, struggling with her father’s own slowly decaying mind. Ratchet hated to say it but he always figured Issac would go before you, not out live you.

It wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair. 

“What happened? I thought humans could live to be over a hundred years old.”

“I don’t know.” Sari admits, “I wasn’t really close with them. It just… got hard to talk to them, ya know?”

Ratchet hadn’t thought about that before. Sari, with her unique nature, may very well be the only person capable of understanding both the human and the Cybertronian angle of time. It made sense that Sari would slowly become unable to relate to you, a fully organic human being, the older you got…

It made him wish he’d spent more time talking with you. 

“They did want me to give you something though, Ratchet.” Sari speaks up after a tense moment. 

Sari had always been a girl that packed light, but Ratchet had entirely overlooked the bag she’d been holding. It was just a plastic bag but the real mystery was the parcel held within. Something small and light, bound up with a red ribbon. Sari sets it in his open servo and immediately he’s drawn to the softness of it. 

It’s fabric, whatever it is. You were known to be a purveyor of various hobbies, it isn’t strange to think you might have gotten into fashion before your passing. Last he’d heard, you had taken to raising these insects called ladybugs. And before that, you had had an infatuation with sailing and the early history of your planet’s nautical culture. 

He should have seen the signs of you slowing down way, way before this.

He unwraps the gift, revealing the folded fabric. A long strip of soft and silky material carefully hand embroidered with delicate gold. It reminded him of a thin scarf. On the very end, he finds his name stitched into it by hand. There’s the taste of something bittersweet on his glossa then, knowing he taught you how to do this. You kept up with it all these years later.

“Oh! I know what that is!” Sari chirps, and in an instant, her jet pack pops free from her back and boosts her up onto the medic’s shoulders. On her way up she snags the fabric from his grip, and with practiced ease, balances herself just behind his helm. She wasn’t as small as she used to be but still small enough. 

“What on Cybertron are you doing?” 

“Gimme a sec here!”

And a second is all she needs, because she loops the fabric around his neck cables and starts folding and twisting. Then, turns it around on him so the delicate puff of fabric is on the front of his chassis, hanging down and standing out as a stark, bright shock of color against his white paint. Like an ascot or a necktie or some other name for the vast many types of cravats there were on Earth.

“Guess they didn’t think you looked spiffy enough, Doc.”

The established base had tons of reflective surfaces, so one of them, a monitor, made a good enough mirror for Ratchet to adjust his new tie a bit. It was pretty, like Sari said, spitty, on him. He appraises himself, turning this way and that.

“Huh, not something I woulda gotten myself.”

“Pfft. That’s probably why they got it for you.”

“I didn’t think I was gone from Earth for that long for them just to… vanish like that.”

Sari shifts so she’s resting her arms and chin atop Ratchet’s head, legs throne over either of his shoulders and hoping her weight and her presence are soothing to the old medic. She squishes her cheek into the top of his helm.

“I don’t think anyone actually has a schedule for when they plan to kick the bucket. It just… happens. They probably wanted to give it to you in person but just ran out of time.”

Ratchet could picture it. You, old and greyed and still insisting they ride around on his shoulder while he talks about all of the numbskulls back at headquarters. Then they poke his cheek and tell him to stop being so grumpy, and give him their gift.

“Hey, you don’t have to answer this if you don’t wanna but…” Sari’s big blue eyes find his face in the monitor’s reflection, scrutinizing his expression for any minute detail. “Did you like them?”

“Of course I liked them. Why else would I put up with them? I like you, don’t I?”

“Awww, you do?” She flicks the unbroken point of his chevron, “Cute but that’s not what I meant. I meant like-like.”

“Oh, you mean like you and Bumblebee?”

Sari sputters and gives him a quick bop on the helm, “Yeah, yeah sure! If you need an example.”

“Honestly, Sari?” Ratchet begins, rubbing the golden seam of the tie between his fingers, “I…I don’t know. Cybertronians live so much longer than any organic life. It stands to reason that we fall in love slower too.”

“But that isn’t a ‘no.’”

“You’re right, it’s not. It’s not a ‘yes’ either. I guess, maybe, I could have if there was just more time.”

Sari doesn’t respond to that, not verbally anyways. She drums her fingers atop his helm, then he feels her squeeze him a bit tighter.

“I’m sorry.”

“And I’m Ratchet.”

That gets a snicker out of Sari. She pats the top of his helm and then he can see her in the monitor as she jerks her thumb back behind her.

“Bee wants to go grab some highgrade if you wanna join us.”

“Who’s ‘us?’”

“Me, Bee, Bulk, Jazz, and hopefully you. Optimus is still busy– Because when is he not– but he promised to call us all tonight.”

“What’s the occasion?”

“Does there have to be? All my old friends are finally together so, why wouldn’t I wanna hang out with them all? Don’t have to have a reason besides just saying you miss someone.”

Sari always was the glue of the team. Her and Bee, friends against all odds. Young bots that just loved one another and loved all of the people around them, even if they could be a little annoying.

“Yeah, I don’t gotta head back to Cybertron for a while yet. Might as well show off their gift, right? And hope Bulkhead doesn’t spill highgrade on me.”

“Aw yeah! That’s the spirit!” Sari pumps her fists, then bounces on his shoulders, “Giddy up, let’s goooo!”

That gets a laugh out of Ratchet. Yeah, it was probably better that he spent some time with friends anyways. You would have wanted to if everyone was in the city at the same time. Even if he didn’t like to have a drink himself, he’d drink to you. To your memory.

So that the universe knew that you really had your name stitched onto his very spark. That there was some piece of you that couldn’t be erased. He wouldn’t let it be erased.

[cheschesterpossum]

Learning the other species's history.

[my-quirk-is-fred]

Shit ain’t sweet when your stalker is Starscream from Transformers animated

[runicarbiter02]

I’m sure this is a very common take, but I haven’t had any motivation to write fandom stuff lately, so I wanted to get this little bit down while I had the inspiration

—

Being the human partner of a Cybertronian, any Cybertronian really, and turning this huge, hulking, intimidating bot into a giant mechanical cat with some gentle touches, some kisses, and sweet words. Standing on your bot’s shoulder, gently stroking a hand over their cheekplate, and listening to that earthshaking rumble of their engine as they purr. Your bot gently nudging you with their cheek or nose when you stop, silently insisting the continued touch and affectionate words. Your bot mass displacing and crawling into your bed, arranging pillows on your lap before laying their head down and promptly falling into a well deserved recharge. (Let’s pretend that they wouldn’t shatter the bed frame just by putting a little weight on it, lmao-) Your bot trying to teach you chirolinguistics, not realizing that you don’t have the same kinds of sensors in your palm as they do, leaving you incredibly confused. Your bot relishing in the tiny flickers of unabashed emotion they get from your very weak organic EM field. Singing softly to your bot, only for them to croon one of their favorite Cybertronian tunes right back, and the both of you giggling over just how vastly different your music is from each other’s. Your bot trying to teach you the Cybertronian language, and you trying to teach them about human art/literature/philosophy/etc. You and your bot being soft and cute and fluffy. Send tweet 🏃‍♀️💨

—

I hope you don’t mind me tagging you, but you’re the one who motivated me to get back into writing!!! This lil drabble certainly isn’t my best work, but it’s the most I’ve done in awhile, haha @revelboo

[ghoulishconey]

The names not “zippy”

Another one bites the dust. Blurr was a fun one to do really.

I can see him being such a mumbler. Especially if he’s talking to himself to de-escalate the situation.

Based on a fanfic called “A-Ok” by @revelboo

[chippa44444]

CW：suggestive content

TFA Blitzwing x Reader art

TFA Blitzwing pushes you to the floor (yukadon)

English and German are not my primary languages, so sorry if my grammar is wrong.

[transformers-spike]

Do you have any headcanons for what the TFA autobots and decepticon's sparklings look like?

rn I have stuff for Decepticon sparklings

They give big uncanny valley vibes by Cybertronian standards. Instead of looking like tiny protoforms, they're tiny versions of their sires with underdeveloped armor, faded colors and a disturbingly fleshy texture

They're blind for the first week or so, utterly defenseless and very confused. They make tiny squeaks at this age, and they're still experimenting with their EM fields, which means bothering every bot around them at 3AM for no reason other than demanding attention

It's hard for me to fully make them ugly-cute (except maybe Lugnut's because what the fuck is that thing (affectionate)) - but they look... so much worse fresh out of the oven

Even if humans find them adorable (it's the oxytocin we feel whenever we see something with baby proportions/features) - bots find the sparklings pretty ugly (imagine your partner giving birth to a bunch of mole-rat-looking-things)

[angel-z-xdx]

soap x reader

needy soap / breeding kink inspo from @soapysoapysoapysoapy

“Think I’m gonna die,” Soap muttered from the floor, arms flung out

“I think my balls are about to explode,” Soap groaned, collapsing onto the floor like a fallen warrior, one massive hand dragging over his face in frustration. “This is a medical emergency. I need relief.”

At first, everyone ignored him. Typical Soap — huge, intimidating, and apparently constantly horny. He’d been whining about it for weeks. After every mission, every briefing, somehow his thoughts circled back to his aching body like it was some kind of personal crisis.

You’d rolled your eyes so many times it felt like a reflex. But when he started describing the color, the shape, and even the emotional texture of his cum — “like very sad yogurt” — someth

like he was waiting for a chalk outline. “This is medical. I’m not even being dramatic this time.”

You didn’t even look up from your report. “You say that every time we come back from an op.”

“Aye, but this time it’s real. I’ve got… pressure. A build-up. It’s like a ticking bomb in my bollocks.” He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “I’m a hazard, lass. A walking threat.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You want me to add ‘blue balls’ to your file under injuries sustained?”

“Serious question—if a man hasn’t come in three weeks, does he legally qualify for disability?” His voice dropped into a pained, breathy whine. “I need to put it somewhere. It’s not even horny anymore. It’s primal. Instinctual. If I don’t get it out soon, I might start humping the wall like a bloody terrier.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “You’re disgusting.”

“And yet,” he said, propping himself up on one elbow to look at you with that dangerous smirk, “you’re still here. Still listening.”

That part was true. Against your better judgment, you were still here. Still listening. Still thinking, God, if he keeps talking like that, I might actually let him.

Something in your face must’ve slipped, because Soap’s smirk deepened.

“Oh?” he drawled, voice low now — a little too low. “You thinking about it? Bet I could split you in half, bonnie. You want that, yeah?”

Your breath caught.

He stood, slow and deliberate, towering a little too close. “Want me to fill you up so good you can’t walk straight? Pin you down and make you forget your own name?”

He waited just long enough for you to stammer something — maybe a protest, maybe a challenge — before he had you backed against the wall, large hands gripping your thighs and hoisting you like you weighed nothing.

“You’re lucky,” he growled against your neck, breath hot. “I’m a generous man. And I’m done being patient.”

You barely had time to gasp before his mouth was on yours — biting, consuming, owning. Everything about him was heat and pressure and pure, restrained power.

He didn’t rush. He didn’t need to.

He took his time getting you open for him, whispering filth the whole way through — how tight you were, how much he’d thought about this, how he was going to make you take it.

By the time he finally rolled his hips in and filled you to the brim, your head was already spinning.

“You feel that?” he rasped, one hand at your throat now, firm but careful — just enough pressure to make your eyes flutter. “That’s mine now. Gonna ruin you for anyone else.”

And he did.

Every thrust was sharp, unrelenting, punctuated by dark promises. “Gonna breed you so full they’ll see it in your walk. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? Filthy little thing.”

Your nails left marks. Your moans turned to cries. He didn’t stop.

Didn’t even slow down when you clenched around him, begging for a break.

“Nah, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice gravel-rough. “You started this. And I’m not stopping until I’ve filled you proper.”

[aka-indulgence]

Peek a boo

[bones4thecats]

Some writers looking over their fics before publishing: Yes, perfect to submit. Me, not giving it a second thought as I pray to every deity I can thing of that it doesn't flop because of my rushed-typing speed and shaky-nature:

[cheschesterpossum]

When your bf is a giant sentient robot Warlord and you can get away with anything/j

[my-quirk-is-fred]

Bonus: hit more 👇

[t-a-a-1]

Counting Stars

Pt.2: The Wait

TFP Optimus x Female Reader

Summary: After revealing to Optimus that you are carrying his sparkling, he convinces you to stay under the Autobot care. However, after the sudden appearance of an old lover of yours, Optimus faces difficult challenges as he tries to win you back and learn how to prepare to be a father at the same time.

A/N: Lots of yearning, jealousy, delusions, craving, fluff. All that good stuff.

4K

Counting Stars

Pt.2: The Wait

There is a clear difference between carrying a sparkling and dying. 

You weren’t sure which one you were doing.

Everyone was treating you like you were about to perish. Everyone has always been careful around you. But now they are extremely aware of you. Every step you take, breath, look, smell, nothing was too insignificant. 

“You shouldn’t be carrying that.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t eat that.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t go there.”

The autobots treated you like a doll. Although the thought sounds amusing, it really wasn’t. 

“I just want to go for a drive. I’ve been inside for two weeks. I need to get out.”

Bulkhead moves his helm from side to side. He was  the third bot you asked about going out. 

“What if we crash and you get hurt?” 

You knew he was making up an excuse to not take you for a drive. Because what kind of Autobot would be such a bad driver?

“I am a human! I need the sun and see pretty things or I’ll get depressed and die!”

“Can you just watch the sun and pretty things on TV?”

Crossing your hands in front of your chest, you huff, showing your clear satisfaction. 

“I am sorry (Y/N) but you are carrying the only sparkling Cybertron has seen since millennials. If you weren’t having our species’s only hope, I would be more lenient.” 

Bulkhead’s voice sounds apologetic. You know that he was telling the truth. Maybe they all missed hanging out with you but couldn’t do much due to current circumstances. 

“I am being serious. I need to go out.” you say looking at the bot. “I’ll seriously die.”

You were exaggerating but you didn’t know until how much you could last without going crazy. 

“Well, maybe we can wait until Optimus is back and hear what he thinks.” Arcee steps in, trying to see if she could alleviate the situation. “You know, so no one wants to get in trouble.”

“Prime isn’t even around.”

A simple talk couldn’t fix everything. Although you and Optimus were in speaking terms, you wouldn’t say that things were the way they used to be. Things were still awkward and tense between the two of you. 

“You need to understand him, he is also going through biological needs not seen eons ago,” Ratchet speaks up while still typing on his large computer. “He is nesting for you and the sparkling, he can’t control it and he is trusting us to keep you safe while he is away.”

“Oh so you care about his biological needs but not about mine? I see how it is.”

“It’s not that, it's just–”

Ratchet turns to look at you. 

“Alright, maybe you are right.”

The medic-bot notices the color of your skin. It’s pale. Not in a natural way but in a sick-manner. Your belly has grown and you look tired. Mentally, you must be going through a lot. The weight of the survival of an entire civilization is on your shoulders and you are yet to know if the sparkling will be born healthy. 

“Only for 30 minutes.”

.

.

.

Optimus was able to satisfy his biological needs only after he found ten dandelions. It was extremely hard to bring them to base since they were delicate and were easy for its tiny petals to crumble. He had found several but would have to go back and look for more since most would lose their petals on the way. 

He also found some pretty rocks. He wasn’t sure which one you would like most so he brought all of them. 

“So you are here to stay with (Y/N) for the rest of the pregnancy?”

His olfactory sensors picked a familiar smell. A human one but it was none of the kids. It was a scent he wasn’t fond of. One he very much wished did not exist. 

“Yes, as a Special Agent, I was assigned this duty. Which I am glad for, I want to spend time with (Y/N) as much as possible.”

Special Agent Alex. Fowler’s Co-worker and your childhood best friend. 

Optimus’ sensors were on alert. All of his instincts warned him. 

“Potential male threat detected. Human male may potentially steal sparkling and partner. Action Required: Keep human male away from mate.”

“May I inquire about your reasoning behind your sudden … presence without invitation?”

He didn’t waste any time as he walked towards the center of the hangar. His tall demeanor did not seem to phase the secret agent. 

“Hey, Prime! Sorry for not announcing it before,” Alex waved knowing that he would get more of a reaction out of Optimus if he pretended that his hostility does not affect him. “But I am just doing my duty. (Y/N) was originally supposed to be transported to a secured area under my watch. But since that didn’t happen, I’ll be staying here.”

“(Y/N) is currently protected by five Autobots at all times. She’s safe here and does not need your guarding.”

“That may be right but (Y/N)’s child is a matter of national security. I can’t let the Autobots have complete control over humanity’s first human-alien hybrid child.”

Optimus closes his servo, fighting the urge to smash the human like a mosquito. 

“My sparkling is no human experiment.”

“I am not saying it was,” Alex looks directly at Optimus’ optics. Unafraid. “What I am saying is that the child would benefit from having all the resources this world can offer. That child, no matter what it may be or look like, would be more human than Cybertronian. It will grow here. Learn our languages, history, traditions and culture.”

Alex smirks, about to deliver the final hit. 

“It’s not like there’s much to learn from Cybertron after all,” he says. “I may raise that child myself.”

Everyone could hear Optimus’ gun engine turn on, about to point directly at the agent. 

Until you showed up. 

“Alex?”

He immediately put away his weapon, pretending that he wasn’t about to harm a certain individual. He couldn’t do it, not after seeing the smile on your face. 

Not after you jumped into his arms, hugging him as he spinned you around. 

“Alert. Action Required: Eliminate threat. Keep human male away from mate. Alert.”

His processor telling him commands wasn’t helping the feelings in his spark. 

“You have always been beautiful but pregnancy suits you so well. It’s going to make my stay here all the more pleasant.”

Alex has always been a flirt.  But you never took it seriously. At least not now. You used to love the compliments during the time of your relationship. Years ago. 

“Are you staying here?”

You ask excitedly, in a desperate need of a friend your age. A human friend who would understand your need to get coffee and see the sunsets. 

“Yes, you won’t have to be lonely anymore,” Alex puts a hand on your head, giving you a soft head pat. An act Optimus was never able to do casually. Putting hands on you without consent in any way did not fit right with him.  “I’ll stay as long as you have me.”

“Yes! You can stay in my room!”

You seem to enjoy the affection. The agent gave you a certain warmness Optimus couldn’t give you and his processor is starting to write codes unfamiliar to him. 

“I am highly against that–”

“Alright, I’ll put my things in there,” Alex’s voice was louder than Optimus’ as he was closer to you. You were too excited to pay attention to the rising anger of the bot. “But tell me, where were you? I was waiting for you and got kinda worried.”

“I’ve been inside here for two weeks and Ratchet took me for a quick drive.”

“For two weeks? That’s not healthy for you and the baby, you need to stay active and get enough sunlight.”

“That’s what I told them but they wouldn’t listen to me.”

Everyone around you noticed your evident happiness that they didn’t mind the comment. You were right, they weren’t taking your needs into consideration. It was even more evident by the sudden change of your mood. 

“Well, from now on I’ll be taking care of you,” Alex moves his hand to caress your cheek. “And I’ll take you on regular drives and trips.”

“Do not touch my sparkmate–”

“Also I brought you a gift!”

He looks down at his backpack as Optimus’ voice subsides. Opening it quickly and showing the content inside it. 

“My favorite chocolate!” you take the pink box from his hands. It was an expensive brand and hard to find. Not available anywhere in the city.  “Thank you! 

Optimus quickly thinks of the things he got you. Dandelions, flowers, rocks. Would you love them just as much? Will you jump in excitement and hug him? Will you see him as fit enough to be your provider, protector and Sparkmate?

“Analysis Complete: Human Male wishes to bond with Sparkmate and steal Sparkling. Activating Sparkmate Protection Codes. Eliminate offering. Keep Sparkmate secluded.”

It’s like he couldn’t control himself. It was fear, confusion and jealousy that overtook his processor. 

Without any announcement, Optimus walks towards you and takes the chocolate box using two of his digits. You watch him with amusement, not understanding his actions. And without any previous warning, he crushes the box. 

The Autobots don’t say a word, flabbergasted at their leader’s actions. 

“I- I am–”

Optimus wanted to apologize but he was so surprised by his own doing that no words left his dermas. 

The room is silent for a few seconds until sobbing is heard coming from you.  Normally, you wouldn’t cry but your hormones have been acting differently, making you more emotionally sensitive.

You run to your room, Alex quickly follows by until the two of you disappear from the hangar. 

“Sparkmate in distress. Advance with caution. In case of Sparkmate rejection, proceed to program Offline codes.” 

Optimus looks at his servo. The pink chocolate box is destroyed. It was a nice gift. Delicate, gentle, genuine. And he destroyed it. All that was left was the result of his own selfish actions. 

.

.

.

He didn’t know how to approach you. Nor knew if he should. His processor was begging him to go talk to you. 

His pedes hang from the cliff as he sees the stars in the sky. Its a view Cybertron was unknown to.  His home planet, with all of its technological advances, unique traditions and indescribable views could never have this kind of beauty. Yet, it can’t compare to the delicacy of your eyes.

Hearing heavy steps walking towards him, he knows it wasn’t you. Most of the time, he couldn’t tell when you were approaching him, your steps were too small to be heard. Either that or he would smell your scent. 

“You know, the right thing to do is apologize, right?”

Arcee was not one to open up easily. That was something she had in common with Optimus. 

“It would be simple if I knew she would want me to,” he responds, seeing the motorcycle sit next to him.

“... Are all male bots this stupid?”

“I believe so.”

There was silence but it wasn’t awkward. They didn’t need to talk to understand each other. Optimus is a great leader but somewhat stupid when it comes to relationships. It is of no surprise, however. Cybertronian and Human relationships are very different. Cybertron culture is more reserved, sometimes even completely political. As a species living for so long, it’s more about companionship. A long lasting friendship. Finding a Sparkmate was completely rare. Something not everyone would get to experience. 

Humans however … Due to their short lifespan, they were more prone to fall in love and out of love rather fast. 

“My processor has been programmed to do things I deemed as primitive for our kind,” he says. “Sometimes I can’t control it.”

“Then just tell her that,” Arceee puts a servo on his shoulder. Physical contact wasn’t common in Cybertron either. But he didn’t mind. “And apologize … a lot.”

.

.

.

You started to overthink. A lot. 

Optimus had feelings for you. Of that you were almost certain. You think ‘almost’ because now you weren’t so sure. 

Optimus would live for many years after you are gone. Maybe one day he will finally find the one, his Sparkmate. Where would that leave your child? He has told you that he will be responsible. But is he doing it out of duty or because he has love for his sparkling? You didn’t want him to believe that he is being forced to stay. 

It was a stupid thought. You knew that. But the thought still lingers in the back of your mind. 

“Prime is gonna kill me whenever he finds out I took you out of the base.”

It's always nice to get out of the base during the night. Especially with someone who saw you as an individual instead of just a ‘carrier and savior of an advanced robot race.’ He also drives nicely, not too fast, not too slow. Alex used to be a mechanic, his love for cars was always evident. Even as he drives, you can tell that this is all he ever wanted to do. 

“You know he won’t even kill a fly.”

“Yeah and that’s why it’s so fun to tease him.”

Alex tried to diminish the tension of the previous situation. He didn’t know why Optimus did what he did. But he feels a bit guilty for teasing Optimus as much. Maybe if he hadn't pushed him to his limits, he wouldn't have done such ugly act. 

“Can we go to the beach?”

You ask randomly. 

Alex smiles.

“Sure.”

.

.

.

When Ratchet informed him that you had gone on a night drive with Alex, he immediately went to your room. 

Why?

It was something even he couldn’t understand.

He knew he wasn’t going to find you there. 

Yet, his processor couldn’t understand how you weren’t here. He needs you. Now. His every circuit aching at the thought of you leaving his side. Carrying his sparkling and with a male who had successfully stolen you from his servos even if it's just for one night. 

He can still smell your scent in your room. Even after he had mass-shifted to enter, the room was still too small for him. He touched the bedsheets and began to miss the moments he has shared with you before in it. 

Where are you?

He needs you now. He needs to hold you, to know that you are safe. To express how much he adores you and the sparkling. 

“Sparkmate Status: Missing. Sparkling Status: Missing. Safety Status: Unknown. If Unable To Locate, Proceed With Solitude Activation Codes.”

He used his Comm-Link to call your cell phone. But nothing. He tried again. Nothing. 

It wasn’t until the 30th time that he understood … You didn’t want to be with him. 

You didn’t want him. 

You didn’t want him.

You didn’t want him. 

His servos tremble. 

Optics feel heavy. It’s strange. Having blue liquid come out of his eyes. He had cried before. For different reasons. This was pain, in its purest form. In a way words can’t describe. Proof of it were his subsided pleas of air as he had forgotten how to breathe, something he didn’t know he could do until he saw you. 

His spark aches. It hurts. Everything. 

Everything …  His everything is gone.

.

.

.

It was about a 10 hour drive.

Watching the sunrise was always a beautiful experience. Feeling the warm sunlight touch your skin energizes you. It made you forget the previous negative emotions and you began to have this strange yearning. 

For Optimus.

You wanted to be with him. Wishing he could  be here with you along with your unborn child. 

Maybe he had over reacted but knowing Optimus he probably has a good reason for destroying the chocolate box. Was he taking care of your weight? What if chocolate is toxic for sparklings? You wanted to talk to him and make things better–

Oh. 

You were right. You do need the sun. 

“Let’s build a sandcastle.”

Alex could sometimes be like a child, which was fun. There was never a boring moment with him.

“Let’s build an Autobot, instead!”

You let yourself touch the sand and immediately feel something moving inside you. It feels strange. It doesn’t hurt but feels very uncanny. Nonetheless, you smile as you put your hands in your belly. Your sparkling may be more human than you think, also enjoying the activity and fresh air. 

“Do you think will look like his father?”

You ask Alex as he tries to make a small square with his hands, using water from a water bottle. 

He looks at you and then down at his little project. 

“If the child were to live on Cybertron then I would prefer for them to look like Optimus,” he says, trying to think of a delicate way to tell you his opinion. “But since they will be living on Earth, then I genuinely hope they look more human.”

You know you will love the child no matter what. But Alex had a point. What kind of life will the child live if he is too different? Humans can be cruel, especially to those who are different. 

“If something happens to me … will you take care of them?”

He lets out a heavy sigh and looks at you again. His mood had been ruined but it was a question you were meaning to ask. 

“You know childbirth is difficult as it is and well, I am assuming giving birth to the first Human-Cybertronian child would be even more so.”

“You know we’ll have the best doctors in the world for that day,” Alex starts to mold more rectangular boxes as he stacks them up. Meanwhile you have started working on the head. “And if anyone can come out alive out of that it's you.”

He makes a pause and a small laugh escapes from his lips. 

“Besides, didn’t you fuck a 20 feet tall alien robot? You did that and came out fine. Childbirth should be a piece of cake.”

Without any notice, Alex’s mouth is filled with sand. You had thrown him a sand-ball and he started spitting it out and washing his mouth with the remaining water. 

“Hey! It's true!”

“Yes but you didn’t have to say it like that!”

“I don’t blame you, if Arcee would give me the chance, I would hit too–”

You throw more sand at him and he also retaliates. A sandy-battle unleashed as the wind was in your favor. Alex was gentle enough to only attack you below or above your belly. His ‘projectiles’ are extremely small compared to yours and between giggles and laughs, the battle continues until both of your hairs and clothes are covered with sand. 

And then, Alex’s phone begins to ring. 

.

.

.

“Where is he?”

The sun is still rising. The groundbridge could not stop time. But the time in California and Nevada were the same. 

You run towards Ratchet who is still by the groundbrige system, Alex close by.

“At the top, he is doing better now that I told him you were returning but …” The autobot medic pauses, not finding the right words to describe the situation. “I think you should go and see for yourself.”

You didn’t hesitate and made your way towards the rooftop. Of course, you didn’t run but you moved as fast as your pregnant body could. 

It was a good workout, you were losing your breath as you made your way to the elevator. If you had been in better shape, you would have taken the stairs. 

As you wait to arrive at the top, you could hear the beats of your heart palpitating against your chest. Overthinking is a talent of yours. Many stupid thoughts crossed your head. Thinking that Optimus was too angry at you for leaving the base without permission. You were ready to accept your punishment, whatever that may be. 

Instead, as you arrive at the top of the cliff, there are more questions than answers. 

You find big rocks, with a weight of more than a ton. Two rocks standing vertically and one on top of the two laying horizontally. Like a small house made out of giant rocks, enough space for a single Cybertronian. One that is around 20 feet tall, blue and red that turns into a truck.

Optimus is there but he is too busy spraying dandelions around his small house that he didn’t notice your presence. 

It wasn’t until he turned around that his optics shine in excitement. He almost runs towards but reminds himself to be gentle. Reaching out a servo, you expected him to hold you but he doesn’t he pulls away, using all of his strength to restrain himself. 

“I am glad to see you are safe.”

He says in a soft voice, the relief in his voice is evident and you feel the need to jump into his servos and be embraced by him. But just like him, you stopped yourself from doing so.

“I am glad you are safe too,” you tilted your body a little, your attention directed to the rocks behind. “Ratchet said you were acting … strange.”

Optimus also takes a look at his creation. He wished he could do better but its the best he could do with his limited resources. 

“Yes, you could say so.”

“May I ask, what is going on?”

He has been meaning to tell you but he doesn't know without getting nervous. He didn’t know how you would react. Will you think of him as weird? Disgusting even? But he can’t run away any longer. You are the sword and he is against a dead end with the only option being moving forward.

“Cybertron hasn’t had a sparkling in milenia so to ensure its safety, my processor activated primal codes,” Optimus says. “It makes me do things that may be antiquated.”

Not understanding fully, but if you had to come to a conclusion, Optimus may be going through something similar to animal mating rituals. Which is not so far fetched since Cybertron used to have Predacons before Cybertronians appeared. 

“Is that why you destroyed my chocolate box?”

“Due that we haven’t concluded the Conjunx Ritus, my processor doesn’t consider you as my Conjunx Endura yet, although I consider you my Sparkmate” Optimus blinks multiple times as he only does when he is nervous. “I identified Special Agent Alex’s actions as threatening to steal you and my sparkling.”

“Me?”

“Yes, although those reasons are more … intimate ones.”

Your heart beats faster as the sunlight reflects on his paint-job. He looks beautiful. You once again remember how incredible and extraordinary of an individual he is. There is no one like him in the entire universe and never will. You feel delighted to know that you are in his presence, being able to admire a side not one has seen yet. 

“Oh,” you look away after realizing you had been staring at him for too long.  “And that?”

You point at the rock structure and Optimus optics quickly follow. 

“After you left, I went to look for you at your private quarters,” he kept looking at the rocks and you wonder the struggles he had to go through to carry them to the top. “Not seeing you there activated my Solitude Codes.”

He walks towards the rocks, there are a lot of dandelions. Some of them died. Others are alive. There is some sort of yearning in his optics as if he belongs there. Its a sorrowful yearning, as if he was made to do something that he wishes to not do. Yet, he knows he would be skillful at it. 

“I felt the need to build this.”

“And do what?”

You ask, not wanting to walk closer as you thought that maybe you would be overstepping his boundaries. 

“Wait,” he answers. 

His back faces you. Not being able to see his faceplate, you can only tell how he feels based on his voice box’s tone. He just stands there, looking down. 

“For what?”

“For you to come back.”

He answers so longingly that it makes you almost shed a tear. For a moment, time stops. There is no wind, no sound, no scent, nothing. But just him. As if your entire world had become just him.  

“... And if I didn’t come back?”

He slowly turns to look at you. A soft smile, of  love. There wasn’t any desire in it. It was pure. Genuine. As he is in love with your soul and wishes to spend eternity with the thought of you. With your existence, whatever that was. To be one until the heavens and the earth collide. 

“I would wait until you do.”

And for a second, the Prime no longer was. But just a spark. In his purest form. His faceplates open, he wants to say something but it's lost in words. He had given up so easily. Realizing that he has yet to find the right words to express his love for you. A love so vast that not even the best poets or writers could ever put into paper. 

If he could go back in time and stop himself from becoming a Prime, he would. Because being an archivist would have made him more eloquent, maybe then, he could describe to you a small fraction of his endless adoration. 

“Prime–”

“Guys!” Alex came out of the elevator, screaming and ruining the moment. “Sorry to interrupt but we have a message coming from Megatron!”

He tilts his head outside the elevator, blue eyes staring at the two of you. Noticing that he interrupted a romantic scenario, he just pointed a finger at the two of you. 

“Prime we need you, please make-out quickly!”

And with that, Alex leaves as soon as he appeared. 

“Well, now that you are here, I won’t be using this,” Optimus walks towards you and bends down on one knee. He is still too tall but you appreciate that he tries to see you faceplate to face. Using a servo, he caresses your hair and your soft skin. With so much adoration and devotion. 

  “I don’t have much time but I realized I haven’t thank you yet for carrying my Sparkling.”

He wants to hold you. Craving it. He wishes he could have time to tell you more. To whisper in your ears sweet things. To read to you the most lovely of poems. To just rot in a bed, indulging in nothing but love. 

But he can’t. Not now. 

“Creating a new life with you has been the greatest honor of my life.” 

He stands up, walks past you. Leaving you at a shock, at a state of awe. 

“Now, let us go,” he says. “Some things can’t wait.”

He'll wait until you call him by his first name again.

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A/N: It was fun to write this. Optimus panicking and not understanding the changes he is going through. I think on this he has accepted that he may not win you back but that won't stop him from loving you and his sparkling. Meanwhile you are falling for him all over again.

I wrote this because y'all liked the concept for Counting Stars and supported it a lot! So thank you everyone so much for the support.

This was a one shot and I continued it because there was lots of love but I don't have a certain story-line. To be honest I don't know how to continue it.

For the next chapter (if there is one) I was thinking that Megatron accidentally sends Reader to the Dark Dimension where Reader meets Nemesis Prime. In this dimension, Optimus loses Reader and his Sparkling, transforming him into an evil being.

Meanwhile in Reader's dimension, Optimus is losing it. Slowly spiraling into madness at the thought of never seeing Reader and his Sparkling again. Destroying everything on sight, the Autobots fight to keep Optimus at bay.

The plot would end with Optimus and Nemesis fighting to see who would keep Reader.

That storyline would take around 2-3 chapters and it would conclude this story.

But that is just a thought, I still don't if I'll continue this since I really need to focus on writing the next chapter for 'The Darkest Hour'

And I am currently working on a oneshot bayverse Optimus fic too so please look forward to it!

Again thank you for reading and sorry for any spelling and grammar mistakes.

See You in the next story!

Previous:

https://www.tumblr.com/t-a-a-1/771132293279580160/counting-stars?source=share

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https://www.tumblr.com/t-a-a-1/776307342250803200/counting-stars?source=share

[revelboo]

Bruh I just dreamed I won to an eagle in an intimidation comtest

I FEEL LIKE I CAN FIGHT MEGATRON NOW RAAAAAAHHHH

Which one, though? 🔞 Mass displaced mech 🌶️

Soft

TFA Megatron x Reader

• “I didn’t mean to make you worry,” he whispers, lips brushing your temple as his palm cups your cheek. “I can’t abandon my duties, though, little one.” Smiling when you press your face against the mesh of his neck, so worried for him. “My people need me.” Spike brushing your soft belly, he shifts against you and you roll onto your back for him so he can settle between your thighs. Brushing a kiss against your mouth, he cups the back of your head. So loyal to him, you never question him. Believe every lie without hesitation. Want to believe him.

• “I need you, too,” you manage when he lets you come up for air. Feel guilty about making demands of him, but he never gets angry about it. Seems to like that you worry about him. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Because he’s your whole world, always so worried about you, so gentle. Wish you were brave enough to tell him that you love him. And he smiles indulgently, kissing you again before his mouth chases the thrum of your pulse in your neck. “I need you.”

• “I’m right here,” he croons, moving against you, spike sliding between your thighs to find you, hesitating when his biolights pulse. Staring at the red flashes meant to coax a mate, venting, he ignores it. You’re a toy. A plaything to amuse himself with. And you arch on a moan when he stretches you. “I’ll always come back to you.” He adds, hips lazily pumping in no really hurry. You’re silken heat wrapped around his spike, soft under him, the scents and sound of you being claimed an addiction. You’re his.

• Hips rocking against you, you reach to pull him down to you, mouth covering his. Whimpering when he opens up for you and you slide your tongue against his glossa and he takes control, the kiss becoming urgent as his hips pump. And you moan when you come apart softly. His face brushing yours as he groans, overloading to fill you. Hanging on to him, feeling your breathing mingling with his venting, your chest aches at the intimacy of being tangled in each other. Of finding your other half even if he’s not human. “I love you,” you whisper, braving it.

• Venting in the familiar scent of you, it’s only a game. “I love you, too, my dear one.” It’s a lie. So why does saying it twist through his spark? Leave him strangely vulnerable? Making him realize that he looks forward to seeing you after dealing with his followers and their incompetence. That you’re how he deals with stress and frustration. He can’t really love you. You’re a weak, little organic. Too trusting to survive in the world without him to protect you. Venting raggedly as you kiss him again, soft hands sliding against him, he groans. Knows he should end the game, get his payoff. See the horror and pain in your eyes when he tells you what he’s really doing. When you learn what he is. So why does breaking you no longer appeal to him? Why does the thought of you learning the truth bother him?

[chippa44444]

TFA Starscream and his clones x reader art

I drew this with the romantic comedy of the past in mind.

This post is an illustrated version of Starscream x Reader

[transformers-spike]

those hybrid sparklings you drew gave me some crazy weird alien baby fever and now i wanna see more... can we maybe get a doodle of some elite guard babies? i know i'm not the only one here who's insane for blurr, let's make that speedy boi into a speedy dilf

This comment brought on an intense neuron-activation and I just HAD to draw it (aka the Break the Status Quo series has given me such intense brainrot I just HAD to do this)

Having a sparkling with Blurr is like creating the angriest and loudest little creature. Very vocal about his feelings - and when he gets tired of screeching through his vocalizer, he torments every bot surrounding him through his EM field

I had to add Shockwave's sparkling purely because it would be SOOOO FUNNY if he knocks up a human as Longarm Prime, and out comes this little nugget

Even compared to the other Decepticon hybrids, Shockwave's kiddo is uh... special. Comes out looking far taller than most sparklings, with better motor functions too

He doesn't come out of the womb already able to see - he's actually "blind" until a certain age like all other sparklings. Except his sire's genes make him look exceptionally creepy. His pupil is visible when his optic is online

For now, his lack of sight doesn't stop him from making direct eye contact with people and staring at them like a horror movie child. Pet the baby