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boredandwiredkitty · 1 year ago

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Listening to old favorite songs and getting some inspiration to write again.

For the longest time ever and and still a bit now I've been into omegaverse. Found some of my favorite kinks from it. Im a little ashamed to admit. I always wanted to incorporate it into some of my own fics and have made a few but I have yet to publish any of them. Maybe I will after this one.

I also highly recommend listening to the song as you read my little drabble. You don't have to but it might help you see the headspace I went in while writing. I really wanted to explore a bit more of the feral side of wheeljack. What if you both tried to deny what you both wanted. That push and pull. It all began as one scene in my head and the song morphed it into the whole fic that you see.

This is part one since I accidentally made it too damn long of a two part story

As always Minors DNI! This is a 18+ rated fic with NSFW! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

This fic does contain most omegaverse themes so if you're adverse to that this might not be for you.

Reader is AFAB if you're wondering.

Heavy panting and heavy footfalls were the only things you could hear over your pounding spark.

Stuck again in the same dream that you get time to time. You were always running. You weren't quite sure why. Was it to something? Was it from something? Was it both? Only the pull in your chest urged you forward. Unsure if it was fear or inclination.

Just as you were about to stop and turn to see if something was behind you the rug was pulled from under you. Abruptly feeling the sensation of falling.

You awoke with a jolt. Clutching the bed underneath you confirming your stability. You were not falling nor needing to run. Everything's fine.

Sort of.

You only got that dream periodically. Right around every time your body goes through a particular change.

The limiters were off and all hell was about to break loose.

As familiar symptoms began to creep throughout your frame trepidation mixed with it.

You couldn't calm your rapid spark as your internal temp was faintly yet steadily rising. The damn dream was always a warning. A premonition of sorts.

"Please dont" You murmured to yourself. Though it was futile. You didn't know how to stop it once it was set in motion. Especially without outside help.

But who were you going to ask? With such sensitive information no less? Was there anyone you trusted enough to ask for help from? Let alone even know HOW to help you?

It was the early hours of morning before the world seemed to wake up. Dawn had yet to break over the horizon. It wasn't much time but just enough to either find help or put enough distance between yourself and a certain other.

You weakly swung your legs over the side of the bed. Becoming even more aware of your incoming heat. You even wondered if it was coming too fast.

Did shockwave have something to do with this?

The first couple of times this happened was back in shockwaves lab. Every time you started showing noticeable signs he would quickly administer some sort of drug and it would seem to vanish without a trace.

The first time it happened you were obviously concerned and immediately went to the scientist with complaints of your new alarming symptoms. The uncomfortable warmth paired with mental fog and a strange urge that burned through your body. The urge to go looking for someone so strong it overpowered everything else. You didn't know who or what but you felt like you had to find what your body needed so desperately. A feeling like you absolutely depended on it for survival.

The unconcerned tank mech only stared at you in response with his one glaring red optic when you approached him that day. Only to turn silently and cluncked to a place in the lab to began working on something. Not bothering to utter a single word to you. Not too long after he arrived with a needle loaded up what you guessed was more energon mixed with something else due to its ever so slight opaqueness.

You squirmed and questioned how he couldn't just make it into something you could drink.

"This is more effective. Injecting it directly into your bloodstream will nullify your heat immediately."

"Heat?" You asked him incredulously as he pushed the plunger carefully.

"Yes. It seems are you are beginning your first heat cycle. No matter, I have made a temporary cure for your cycle and you shall be back to normal operation in a moment."

You winced as the fluid entered your body. You hated the invasive cold feeling of liquid forcefully entering your veins. "Will it be gone permanently?"

"No. It will only prevent symptoms this cycle. Do not worry. Your systems are still functional. You just are no longer under the affects."

"Great to hear." You stated sarcastically as he moved away to go back to his current project. He was looking at a strand of CNA next to a strand of human DNA. Probably another part of your cyberformation project.

After that every heat you had; depending on how quickly your symptoms set in; he would either give you the injection or a ingestable variation. You hated the injections but you had to admit it was much nicer that relief was almost instant. The medicine would take much longer and sometimes waiting for the symptoms to dissappear was unbearable. You would not let yourself drop to degrading levels around the emotionless logic fueled scientist. You would rather die before it got to that point.

Now you sat up in the darkness of your room back at autobot headquarters. Without shockwave or any medication to get through this.

You wanted to ask ratchet for help but you didn't know if he had anything to help you or even knew how to make it. Given your circumstances it was probably only shockwave that knew.

Ratchet knew of your technorganic body but he was still learning of all its ins and outs. It was only fairly recently that you showed him shockwaves handiwork. You were patient as he would carefully examine you and run different tests to see the extent of the cyberformation. But you doubted if he knew anything about your current predicament.

You stiffly got up. There's no harm at trying.

You walked out in the dimness of the base and found the medic looking over some files.

"Hey ratchet." You quietly called out to him careful not to startle the poor older mech.

His helm quickly turned to you noticing your weary looking frame. "What are you doing up?"

You suddenly felt bashful. "I um." You squirmed under his worried gaze. "I'm getting my heat cycle. And I'm hoping you could help me."

The flush over his face made you realize you should've been more clear. "I do not think I would be the right mech for such a task. Why don't you ask w-" He began before you cut him off from saying his name.

"Nonono! That's not what I'm saying. Can you give me some medicine to alleviate the symptoms?!" You exclaimed while waving your arms frantically in front of you.

"You want me to make a medicine?" He queried.

"Yes. That's what I meant," You confirmed back.

Ratchet stood there in deep thought for a moment. Murmuring to himself before looking back up at you.

"I'd hate to ask but what would shockwave do when this would happen? Or is this the first time?"

You shook your head. "Shockwave had different remedies. Sometimes it was an injection. Sometimes it was a medicine that I would drink. It depended on how bad the symptoms were." You told him truthfully. Hopeful he would find something.

"What exactly are your symptoms?"

Your eyes darkened. What a unpleasant question.

While you spent your time here you noticed something you never would've back at the lab. Something you would only have realized once EXPOSED to it.

The mech that plagued you. That you were injected with their energon. Repeatedly. Invading your veins to begin the cyberforming process. Their biomatter mixed with yours. How your body called out to theirs as if they were a homing beacon. You were a moth and they were the flame.

You took a deep breath. Attempting to calm your fretful spark. Trying to figure out how to tell him. "I start to feel a bit feverish." You began and ratchet nodded at you in acknowledgement. Silently urging you to keep going. "I get mental fog. My body feels a bit weaker than usual," You continued. Watching as ratchet was listening intently to every word you said.

Ratchet gazed at you probingly as you stopped listing anything else. "Is that all? Are you sure you're not having any other symptoms than that? Because if that were the case it could be something else besides a heat cycle."

You scowled. "No" you grumbled. Feeling defeated at confessing this out loud.

You raised your head to look ratchet better in the optics. "I get the most desperate and embarrassing URGE for a certain autobot."

You watched his optics widen a bit. "Who is it?"

You bit your lip as you felt a sudden tug in your spark. "Who do you think?" You snapped defensively.

Ratchet nodded in understanding. "I'll see what I can do but I cannot guarantee that I will have anything ready by the time you fully get your heat. In that case what do you want me to do?" His voice was professional. Like any medical practitioner.

"Send me away." You quickly spoke with a sweep of your arm. "Just get me out of here before something happens! I don't care where. Hell, inject me with whatever concoction you come up with! Anything to stop this heat from happening! I'll even drink the nastiest medicine you make!"

Ratchet jolted back aghast. "Are you sure that's what you want? Do you not want to try anything else?"

You nodded solemnly, "What other choice do I have? I don't want to inflict my heat on anyone else."

"Has it affected anyone before?"

You wrinkled your nose in thought. "Not that I'm aware. It never really seemed to bother shockwave. But that mech is rather stoic so it's hard to tell. Maybe the vehicons if I'm further in my heat but I'm usually isolated from most others."

Ratchet turned to start typing on his console. "That could either be because either you don't produce pheromones to attract other bots or.." He trailed off as he typed. Then looking over at the exit of the hangar. "That you affect only ONE mech. Given your symptoms that you described."

You choked on your spit and deadpanned. Currently the said mech was out on a mission. But when they come back what will happen? Will he be unaffected or completely taken over and forced into rut? Was that something you wanted to take chances on? It was getting harder to tell as clouded thoughts started to flit through your mind. Maybe it would be interesting to see if he would react. But what then?...

"If you wish to stay somewhere else after they get back I'll be sure to move you before letting them return to base."

You nodded politely. "That would be preferable thank you."

With that ratchet extended a servo to which you climbed on as he took you to his medical work station.

You tried not to put up much of a fuss as he did various scans. Typing different things on his monitor.

"Will you be adverse to me taking an energon sample?" He asked gently.

You made a face. You hated injections and getting fluids drawn. "I'd prefer if you didnt." You grumbled honestly.

"Unfortunately it would be much harder to get an accurate suppressant made if I don't get all the information that is stored in your genetic makeup."

You grimaced. Aka he needed your blood. If he didn't have it it would be as useful as taking a shot in the dark. You really wanted to avoid needles as much as possible though.

Ratchet sensed your unease. Being shockwaves captive is no joke. He didn't want to think about what that mech put you through. "Don't worry. I'll apply the techniques that nurse Darby taught me in case I ever had to help with the kids."

He then activated his holoform and brought out a small kit for drawing blood. "I'll try to make this as painless as possible."

You tried to be still and not fight ratchet so much but you couldn't help but flinch away when he brought the needle close to your arm.

"Why don't I turn on the TV so you have something to distract yourself." He asked you gently while moving the needle away.

You tried to sit up straighter. "I don't know. I'm not used to having a distraction. I don't know if it will work."

"Here." Ratchet then removed his holoform and picked you up. Placing you on the couch and turned on the TV. Setting it to a low enough volume. "Do you want to talk about anything?"

You now we're settled next to ratchets holoform again as you faced the TV on the couch they had for the kids. Some early morning cartoons were playing that you remember seeing as a kid and felt a wave of nostalgia wash over you. A sense of familiarity as you stared at the screen.

"It's kinda hard to find anything to talk about anything right now." You gave a light chuckle. "The brain fog is slowly taking over." You confessed still focused on the TV.

"Is it bad?" He asked as he carefully pierced your skin with the needle and watched you wince.

You shook your head. "Not that bad yet. But I bet it's only going to get worse."

"Probably." Ratchet agreed as he continued focusing on drawing your energon mixed blood. "But I will do my best to prevent it."

"Thank you. I appreciate it."

"You're very welcome." He told you with a smile. "How are you feeling besides the heat? Any issues with the cyberforming?"

"None that I'm aware." You stated. Glancing over to look at him for a moment. Doing your best to not look down at what was happening with your arm.

"Well while I have a sample I'll be running some tests to make sure everything is doing alright. I'll probably have June look over at your panels as well."

"Sounds good" You told him. Noticing how he was already moving to stand up. "Done already?" You asked incredulously.

"Yep. Already got enough samples for testing. You're good to go."

Samples? As in plural? You looked down at your arm and saw a little bandaid, then to his hand where he held five vials of your mixed blood.

"No way!" You whispered in astonishment. Reaching out to hold one of the warm vials in your hand. "This is so trippy." You laughed as you lifted it up to examine it closer. Trying to use the light from the TV to see through the vial.

"Wasn't too bad was it?" Ratchet asked as you handed him back the vial.

"No you did good. But I wonder if me going into heat is particularly to blame. I think I'm starting to go mentally numb to my surroundings."

"I'm going to go start running the tests. You can sit here for now. Let me know if the symptoms get worse or if you need anything."

You nodded and watched as he left. You couldn't help but wonder why you didn't feel anything with anyone else. There was no pull. No longing. No lust. Nothing. Which you were thankful for. But you felt nervous how bad it would get with HIM in proximity while you were going into heat. His lingering scent was already making you feel the warmth between your legs.

"Maybe I will ask smokescreen to take me out somewhere to keep me out of the base." You mumbled to yourself. He was a good and trusted friend. With that thought and uncomfortable feeling coiled in your gut. Like the thought of being alone with someone else repulsed you. Which made no sense since you were fine being alone with ratchet. Maybe because the scenario is different?

You couldn't make heads or tails of it. It was getting harder to think deeply. So you just relaxed as you started to watch the next show that played. Numbing your mind to everything but the screen infront of you.

As you went through different episodes the more you felt the warmth radiating from your body. Did your spark always sound this loud? What were you doing again?

You moved to stand up but then remembered you were waiting on ratchet. How much longer till he would be done? How long do normal cybertronian heats last? How long does it usually take for symptoms to get bad?

You were about to call out to him to ask when you realized he had already been calling your name.

You blinked at him. "Um, yes?" You asked stupidly.

"They are requesting to return to base. Do you want to go somewhere real quick?"

Your mind lagged. Go?... Go where? Where will you go? Making a decision felt difficult.

Your mouth fell open but no words came to mind. "I dont....." you trailed off. You couldn't think. All you could think about was how uncomfortable you felt and how your clothes felt too warm. You wanted to cool off. A cold shower sounded nice right now.

"Shower" You told him.

Ratchet looked at you incredulously. "What?.. nevermind," Ratchet sighed shaking his helm. it seemed your heat was coming on faster than expected. It was only a matter of time before you would be incoherent. He needed to find somewhere for you to stay in the meantime. but housing a technorganic in heat would be no easy feat. Considering this would be your first time fully going into heat. Who knows how your body would handle it. He wanted to keep you close by to check on you. Since it was obvious you weren't producing any pheromones that affected him. He was your physician and he wanted to help in any way he could.

He quickly picked you up and activated the ground bridge. Rushing you out to the barracks to get washed up. Maybe a hygiene ritual will help cool your symptoms. Even if for a bit. At the very least it would dampen the intensity of your pheromones for short amount of time.

He set you down. "Let me know if you need anything else. I will have Fowler be helping you." And with that he swiftly dissapeared back to the hangar.

You blinked as you just staired at the direction he went. Your mind trying to keep up. What just happened?

You shook your head and slapped your cheeks. Trying to regain your senses.

Shower. You were here to shower.

You went inside and found a stall. Pulling the curtain you stripped your clothes and hung them on the divider wall. Maybe a shower will help. You could only wish silently to yourself as you turned the knob.

Back at base ratchet arrived as everyone was stepping through the bridge. First Magnus strutted in. Looking completely unaffected followed by smokescreen who also seemed completely unaware of any potential pheromones in the air. Leaving ratchet to muse that maybe his hypothesis was right.

It was when wheeljack walked through he staggered. Seeming to be completely thrown off the moment he entered the base. With bulkhead looking over at him concerned.

"Whoa Jackie. You alright?"

The white wrecker blinked in a daze before coming to his senses. "Yeah. I'm alright."

Ratchet could only hum in thought. So he WAS right. You could only affect wheeljack. So all he had to do was keep you both separated. Since that seemed to be your wish.

Wheeljack spotted the medic seeming to be in deep though and walked over. "Whatcha working on?" He couldn't help but notice the closer he got the stronger the smell. Was it ratchet? He had to wonder and find out for himself.

"I'm just going over (name)'s charts."

He looked at the screen to see a strand of CNA mixed with DNA along with another strand of CNA next to it. "Is something wrong?" He couldn't hide the worry in his voice.

"No nothings wrong per se. Just looking over some things for her since she asked." Ratchet stated while typing on the screen before turning to the wrecker. "Why? Is something the matter?"

Wheeljack looked caught off guard again. "Nah its just..." He paused for a brief moment. Thinking of what to say. "It's nothing. Just wondering." He then looked around. "Is (name) around?"

"She just went out. She will be back later." He stated and turned back to his work. The faster he can make the suppressant the faster your symptoms will dissappear. As well as your pheromones.

Ratchet didn't even realize wheeljack was halfway out the door before he frantically called back to him. "And where do you think you're going?!"

"Just out for a moment. I'll be back." He stated without turning around. Causing poor ratchet to bristle over his flippant retort.

"I need you to stay here for the time being. The others may require backup." Ratchet snipped

"Awe c'mon doc. I just got here. Don't tell me you're going to send me out again." He complained loudly. He was desperate to see if you were the source of those enticing pheromones.

"I just might now get back here!" The medic snapped at the white mech. "And stop calling me doc!"

You were standing there just letting the water drum over you. The coolness seeping into your skin. The running water helped with the uncomfortable warmth you felt but it didn't help the thick fog your mind was swimming through or the absolute urge to go looking for the mech that your body was calling out for.

You rested your head against the cool tiles of the stall. You wanted these symptoms to go away. If only you were back at shockwaves lab. He would administer the shot without a second thought. You should've grabbed some medicine before you escaped. You figured if the scientist felt emotions he would be laughing at your predicament right now. Or maybe. This is exactly what he wanted. But why?

Subconsciously your hand had found itself between your legs. Fingers sliding inside the place that ached as your mind wondered to your wrecker. Your fingers didn't offer much but the thoughts of it being him helped. A stifled moan caught in your throat when you heard a sound outside and decided you were in there long enough. It not like you weren't in the desert right now or anything and that water was not usually something of abundance. Nor should you be entertaining such dangerous ideas.

You lamented on how the coolness quickly left your body and struggled to dry off and redress.

You left the showers to find Fowler waiting for you. "Ratchet informed me you weren't feeling right and had me look over you for the time being. Is there anything you need?"

"Something cool. Or maybe a nap." Or maybe a third that shall not be mentioned.

"Would you like me or one of the bots to take you into town to get some ice cream then?

Your eyes lit up for a second as a certain wrecker crossed your mind before you quickly dismissed that thought.

"I'm not sure." You told him truthfully.

You didn't know what you wanted. Nothing sounded appealing to you. All except for the carnal urge to find the white lancia and make him yours. To sink your teeth into him. Intertwine your body with his. To feel his spark beat against yours. But such an intimately deep and primal urge scared you. You were scared of the unknowns. You were still intigrating yourself into team prime. Slowly becoming comfortable with everyone around you. Being thrust into a situation like this was alarming.

"I'll just hang out in a different hanger and try to get some rest." You told him. All in all you didn't feel like being around anyone. Well all except one mech. But you weren't ready for that. You were starting to remember him better. Rekindle your close friendship. Such a commitment was not something to take lightly. You would do your best not to give in.

You ended up at an adjacent hangar and the others were polite enough to lend you an office to crash in. They even were kind enough to lend you a pillow. Once you seemed settled in enough on the small couch Fowler left to go back to his own office.

"If you need anything just give me a call." Fowler told you before leaving.

You hummed in acknowledgement and watched him dissappear from the doorway. Closing the door behind himself. Leaving you by yourself with your thoughts all over again.

You wanted to rest. Even with the malaise wearing down your body you wouldn't be able to relax. Not with the desire to seek out relief plaguing your hazed mind. Picking and nagging at you. But you wouldn't be caught dead pleasuring yourself in public like this.

You laid there for what felt like hours. Trying menial mental tests to keep you sane. You feared the moment you slipped up you would lose control. But as time ticked by your mental awareness shrank to next to nothing. Even your short term memory started to fail. It was getting to the point you would get up to leave. Only to stop yourself when you remembered just WHY you placed yourself into quarantine to begin with. Then found yourself pacing as you battled your own body. It felt like chains were constricting your body. Hot, heavy, and extremely uncomfortable. All with that mech on the other end tugging at you to come closer.

You didn't want to be caged up any longer. You've had enough of that back with the decepticons. The air was too stuffy. It was getting harder to breathe. You were sure soon the walls were going to start closing in on you.

You walked out to notice that the hangar was vacant. All military personnel had already left for the most part. How long were you in that office? Was it already night? There's no way. You stepped out and felt unease wash over you. It was uncomfortably quiet. You had gotten used to the hustle and bustle of hangar E. How there was at least one living being in the hangar at all times.

You left the hangar quickly. Not wanting to stay there much longer. The silence was suffocating.

What you weren't expecting was finding yourself wandering mindlessly over to the outside of hangar E. It was dark outside but like usual inside the hangar it was relatively lit. You wanted that familiarity. Something about it was calling you. Or maybe it was your instincts. It was getting harder to tell. You didn't even know what you were doing or why you were even there in the first place. Your self controll must really be slipping now.

You shook your head. You wanted to ask ratchet but thought better than to just waltz right in. You needed to go back before making a mistake. Turning to trudge back to the hangar you found yourself unable to take a single step. You would go back; Only that you had to conveniently forget which one you had actually stayed in.

Fuck.

You wanted to cry in frustration. What were you even doing? Where were you? Why were you still so freaking warm. And where was ratchet with your suppressant. "Just hurry up with the damn suppressant already!" You cried out to no one in particular. Well no one in earshot. At least that's what you thought.

The scent. Oh Primus the scent that started filtering into your nose. It made you feel weaker. it made the heat of desire burn hotter, stronger, heavier. A vice tightening with every vent. Like a starved animal. It clouded everything out of your mind. You turned around and was met with the sight of wheeljack standing just outside hangar E.

Just as you opened your mouth to say something you clamped your hand around it. No! Don't draw him closer. If you do you will lose the very shred of self control you had left.

He spotted you and began to make his way to you.

At first you stumbled towards him. Drunk off of his scent. It coaxing you sweetly while pulling you in. Calling to you. Beconing. Only for you to regain your senses enough to run.

And run you did.

To be continued...

Part two

#tfp wheeljack x reader #wheeljack #tfp wheeljack #valveplug #prime wheeljack #transformers prime #tfp #maccadam #transformers #transformers wheeljack

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transformers-spike · 6 months ago

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Been thinking about this one a lot. I feel like Cybertronians would enjoy pubic hair. If not enjoy, at least find it cute. Yeah we're covered in hair and it's kinda weird, but once they get over it and just enjoy the texture, things change. We have the most hair on our heads and our genitals? That's wild. Can they touch it? Big pubic hair enjoyers include all versions of Megatron. From TFA Megs who would just caress it to TFP Megan shoving his face in there. TFP Wheeljack is also shameless about his interest in it - he would be sad if you shaved. Now it's just smooth - boring smooth. You catch him grieving the loss of hair, helm in his servos. TFA Prowl is interested in all natural things - and this includes pubic hair. He appreciates it very much, it fascinates him. Even those who don't really care have resigned themselves to their fates. Hanging around their human already means they find hair strands in their intakes - head hair is more noticeable - pubic hair... not so much. All Starscreams complain about how hairy humans can be (comparing us to apes - which technically makes sense but also ow) It still doesn't stop them from eating out tho

#transformers x human #transformers x reader #transformers prime #valveplug #megatron x reader #tfp megatron #tfa prowl #transformers animated #tfp wheeljack #tfa megatron #maccadam #headcanon hour #tfa megatron x reader #tfp megatron x reader #starscream x reader #tfp wheeljack x reader #tfa prowl x reader

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capricorn-writes2 · 2 months ago

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Hey! Can I Get a headcannon of Wheeljack, Bulkhead, Optimus and Ratchet with S/O that got infected in cybonic plague?

Wheeljack, Bulkhead, Optimus and Ratchet with S/O Who Got Infected with Cybonic Plague

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I try my best to make the portrayal of their character based on their personality, and I would like to apologize for replying to the ask late because I had horrible carpal tunnel syndrome in my right hand and depression, and I had to focus on finding jobs as well as therapy. Thankfully, I graduated in July from my university and able to get a quick 6 months of internship before leaving to find a new job.

Gender: Neutral

Warning: Angst to Fluff, sickness, mention of injuries and Profanities

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OPTIMUS PRIME - Autobot

When Ratchet first tells Optimus you're infected, his spark clenches. He masks the fear behind his usual stoicism, but his optics dim. The Cybonic Plague is a deadly, ancient virus, and he vows silently that you will not meet the same fate.

Optimus spends long hours at your side, even when he should recharge. He watches your spark signature fluctuate on the monitor with quiet intensity. Every labored intake of your vents feels like a countdown ticking louder.

He searches the archives for ancient medical data, something even Alpha Trion once wrote. Sleepless and single-minded, he sifts through fragments of forgotten science. If the answer lies buried in the Well of All Sparks itself, he’ll find it.

When Megatron offers a cure to him but in exchange a cruel price. Optimus would consider surrendering himself if it means you’ll live going through Megatron’s database to get the cure. He volunteers instantly to deliver it, no matter the danger.

Inside your subconscious, he finds a corrupted image of yourself. It’s terrified, glitching, dissolving into plague data. He kneels beside it, shielding you with his own spark energy.

The process nearly destabilizes both of you. Your systems scream under the pressure, and Optimus begins to fade. But his spark surges, wrapping you in protective light.

After what feels like forever, your optics flicker back online. You see him there, battered and dim, but smiling just for you. “You… stayed,” you rasp, and he nods, servos brushing your cheekplate.

Recovery is slow, and he never rushes you. He adjusts your routines, brings Energon himself, and reads to you aloud. No mission takes priority over your healing, not even war. He keeps a fragment of your corrupted code stored away safely. Not as a reminder of the pain, but of the strength you showed.

Your near-loss changes him, even if subtly. He becomes gentler in the quiet moments, less afraid to show his affection. When you reach for his servo now, he squeezes back without delay. He lets you stay by his side in the command center now.

Sometimes, he wakes up from recharge fearing he lost you again. You always pull him close, resting your helm against his chest plate as your arms wrap around him to comfort your sparkmate. “No plague. No pain. I’m here,” you remind him.

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

The first symptom was a flicker. Just a minor glitch in your visual sensors, nothing big, just a half-second blackout that you chalked up to fatigue. But then came the spasms. Your servo twitched, then locked. The base lights blurred, the floor shifted beneath your feet, and Ratchet’s voice faded into a muffled hum. By the time you collapsed in the medbay, Optimus was already on one knee beside you, calling your name repeatedly.

Ratchet’s diagnosis was quick, in a second, and brutal: the Cybonic Plague. A virus from Cybertron’s darkest past. You barely heard the details, lost in a haze of heat and static, but through the buzzing in your head, you caught one thing: from your receptor, the fear in Optimus’s voice. No, he didn’t shout; he didn’t panic. He never did. But when he asked, “Ratchet, is there a cure?” The weight behind his words could’ve cracked stone.

You drifted in and out of stasis, each moment flickering between memory and dream. Sometimes you were back on Cybertron, laughing in golden-lit corridors. Other times, you were locked inside your own mind, fighting the virus as it twisted your code. On the other hand, the leader of the Autobots sat beside you, silent, his servo resting against yours.

When your vitals began to crash, Ratchet proposed a dangerous solution: someone had to enter your mind through a neural link and manually inject the cure. Optimus didn’t hesitate. “Prepare the link,” he said. "Optimus Prime, Are you sure?" Ratchet was surprised. The medic even warned him of the risk, of the chance he might not return, but Optimus had already decided. “She is worth the risk.”

Inside your mindscape, the virus had created a corrupted version of you. It was ugly, fractured, glitching, and afraid. Optimus found you there, curled in a pit of static. He didn’t rush to pull you out; instead, he knelt beside you, his sparklight flickering in the dark like a pulse. “You’re stronger than this,” he said, his voice echoing like thunder through the data storm. “And I’m not leaving without you,” His voice was louder. You reached for him with a trembling servo as his hand gently held your hand.

The battle inside your mind was like drowning in code, each surge of infection trying to rewrite who you were. But with every wave, Optimus pushed back, pouring light into the cracks. He shielded you with part of his own spark signature, even as his systems began to flicker too. “Stay,” he whispered when your form began to fade. “Stay with me.” And this time, you did.

You woke to the soft hiss of medbay monitors and the familiar warmth of his servo against yours. Your optics blinked open, and there he was, damaged, dim, but alive. And smiling. “You’re back,” he said, as if those two words were enough to rewrite the universe. You tried to speak, but all you could do was nod, the heat of tears burning behind your eyes. He leaned forward, pressing his helm gently to yours. “I believe in you; I know you could do it.”

Recovery was slow, but he was patient. He helped you walk again, holding you up when your joints trembled. He sat through quiet recharge cycles with you, read aloud during your checkups, and let the others take the front lines so he could stay close. The war could wait, he told them. Because for the first time in a long while, the hope had won against the cybonic plague virus.

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

❀

RATCHET - Autobot

Warning: The doctor is tsundere

The moment Ratchet scans you and detects the Cybonic Plague, his spark skips a beat. He double-checks the readings, then checks them again. But the data doesn’t lie, your code is breaking down. “…No. No, no, not them. Not you,” he mutters while already grabbing tools.

He doesn’t even try to hide how shaken he is, there’s no time for pride. His servo trembles for the first time in centuries. You try to joke about him being dramatic while the rust starts to form, but he silences you with a look.

Ratchet keeps a close vigil at your bedside, monitoring blinking over your spark signature. He rarely leaves your side, only to mix compounds or pace violently. The others offer help, but he snaps at them without meaning to.

He digs into archives older than the war itself to find a possible cure. Your medical file grows thicker by the hour, stained with energon smudges. He barely recharges, too afraid that he’ll wake to silence from your berth. Your steady pulse is the only thing keeping him from destroying himself.

When your systems crash temporarily, Ratchet genuinely breaks down. He slams a servo into the wall, a spark roaring behind his chassis. The monitors scream, and he’s barking orders at the others like a war general. No one dares disobey him when you're on the line.

He eventually constructs a prototype antivirus—but testing it is risky. Ratchet debates for only seconds before deciding: he'll inject it directly. If it fails, it could speed up the deterioration… But doing nothing is worse. “Better to die trying than to watch you fade.”

He injects the cure with a shaky servo, optics locked on your frame. You seize up, systems sparking, and he nearly overloads from panic. But then your vitals stabilize a little. It was not perfect, but enough. He doesn’t breathe until your optics flutter open.

He’s exhausted, hunched over your berth like a rusted-out frame. When you whisper his name, his entire posture softens. “Don't ever do that again,” he says quietly, voice raw. But there's relief under the gruffness, and it bleeds through.

Ratchet orders a full scan every two hours after your recovery. No exceptions, no excuses, even if you insist you're fine or if you just have a simple cough from dust. It’s annoying… but deeply sweet in a Ratchet kind of way.

He brings you energon personally, even if he pretends it's 'standard check-in protocol'. He triple-checks its composition, temperature, and nutritional balance. When you smile at him, He huffs and mutters, “Don’t get used to this.”

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

You were just teasing him over another one of his grumpy lectures when it happened. A sharp pain cracked through your spark, and suddenly your systems seized up, dropping you to your knees. Ratchet barely caught you in time, optic panels wide in alarm, shouting your name like it was a medical emergency code. “No, no, no! Stay with me!” He barked, already scanning you with shaky, frantic digits.

The diagnosis was something Ratchet had hoped he’d never see again: the Cybonic Plague. A virus so ancient and insidious that even whispering its name made bots flinch. You were already twitching, glitching, fighting to hold onto reality as the virus gnawed at your code like rust in your processor.

Ratchet didn’t react with panic. No, panic was inefficient. But his voice lost its edge of sarcasm, and his hands never once stopped moving. “You are not dying on my table.” The others offered help "Ratchet What happened?!" Bulkhead asks with panic in his voice. "We can help you," Arcee tried to step up as Bumblebee buzzes.

But Ratchet didn’t let anyone else touch you. Instead, his optics silently glare at the other Autobot teammates and blocking them away. “No one knows their system like I do!” he snapped, the words heavy with something more than professional pride. "You all step away from (Y/N)!"

He worked tirelessly for hours, then days, ignoring recharge and energon warnings, digging through corrupted Cybertronian medical files older than Orion Pax. You were more than just a patient. You were the only one who’d ever made the old medic feel again, you're his sparkmate and the only one who could understand him.

Every time your spark signature flickered, something in Ratchet faltered. He’d pace the medbay like a caged beast, muttering equations under his breath, cursing the virus and whatever careless god had let it survive this long. He really wishes that time Megatron hadn't made a virus as the biology weapon as he remember all of those passing comrades who rusted away from the cybonic. Even when Optimus offered to assist, Ratchet nearly shouted him down. “Don’t take this from me! I have to be the one to save (Y/N)!”

When your systems dipped into emergency stasis, Ratchet broke protocol. He ignored the risks, activated a neural bridge, and entered your mind full in desperation and determination. Inside, your consciousness was a mess of static and corrupted data. He found you in the center of it, your voice distorted and broken, barely able to reach out. But he knelt beside you anyway, optics locked on yours, his touch gentle as he whispered, “I am not losing you, too.”

Fighting the plague from the inside was like performing surgery in a hurricane. Every data spike you sent at him nearly knocked him offline. But he kept moving forward, shielding you with pieces of his spark signature, injecting the antivirus into your core line of code while taking damage himself. “You're worth every scratch,” he said quietly, even when you begged him to leave. “Don’t ask me to walk away from the only thing that makes me feel alive.”

You came back slowly, stuttering and disoriented, optics dim but conscious. Ratchet was there, slouched in his chair, faceplate smudged with energon and exhaustion. When your hand twitched, his optics widened, and the relief that washed over him nearly dropped him to the floor. “You stubborn glitch,” he whispered, and for once there was no bite in his voice. Just soft gratitude, like your survival had rebooted something inside him.h

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

❀

WHEELJACK - Autobot

Wheeljack doesn’t panic often, but the moment Ratchet says 'Cybonic Plague' his spark freezes. He clenches his servos so tightly they spark. He’s used to battlefield injuries, not watching someone he loves slip away without a fight. “You’re not fraggin’ leaving me,” he growls, already planning something reckless.

He tries to play it cool around the others, but you can tell he’s on edge. His optics flicker faster, and he paces like a caged beast. He gets into three arguments and almost punches a wall in the first hour. No one dares call him out, except maybe Ratchet.

He hates not being able to fight the plague with his blades or explosives. But he sits beside you anyway, blades sheathed, just watching you breathe. Because being there is the only fight he can win right now.

Wheeljack once storms into the medbay covered in Energon because he thought you flatlined. Turns out it was just a system recalibration. Ratchet yells at him for scaring everyone and nearly bleeding out but he doesn't care, he just wants to see your condition.

When Ratchet finally gets a possible cure, Wheeljack insists on testing it himself. He offers his own code as a host “Load me with it. I can take it.” Ratchet refuses, but Wheeljack doesn’t stop trying to bargain.

He holds you through the injection of the antivirus, despite Ratchet’s warnings. You’re spasming, screaming, nearly overheating, but he won’t leave. His armor gets scorched, his frame rattles with yours. “Easy, sweetspark. You’re tougher than this thing. Just hold on.”

Once you are awake when your vital stabilized, , he cracks the dumbest joke to make you smile. It’s so bad you groan, but it breaks the tension. Of course he does this is because he wants to distract you and himself from what just happened.

He actually hugs Ratchet after the cure works, and then immediately denies it. The medic bot would pushes him away, rejecting his hugs but secretly the doc was smirking and says nothing. Everyone at base teases him about it for weeks.

Wheeljack would secretly builds a private recharge chamber for the two of you. It’s lined with Wrecker badges and LED lights shaped like stars. It is a sanctuary for you two.

He puts your spark signature into his own HUD overlay. He monitors it 24/7, even when you're fully recovered. Says it helps him 'focus' but you know it just helps him breathe easier because after what hapened he became twice more protective around you as he tries not to show it (but it's too obvious).

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

You didn’t even feel it at first. Just a flicker in your HUD, a small static delay in your vision. You chalked it up to a power drain or a bad line of code from your last mission. But when your limbs started locking up mid-step and your systems spat out unfamiliar alerts, you knew something was wrong.

The moment Wheeljack caught you collapsing in the hallway, optics wide and frantic, you knew things were about to get worse before they got better. He carried you like you weighed nothing, sprinting to the medbay with a speed that would’ve impressed Flash from the DC Universe.

Ratchet was already scanning your systems before your optics flickered out. His voice is grim, “It’s Cybonic Plague.” That’s when Wheeljack went completely still. Not in fear but in that deadly kind of stillness that comes before a storm. “You sure?” he asked, voice low and dangerous. “Because if you’re wrong—” “THE DATA IS NOT WRONG!” Ratchet snapped. "Get out of my way and let me try to save them.” But Wheeljack didn’t leave after Ratcher ordered him.

He stayed by your side like a guardian drone, arms crossed, pacing only when the tremors in your frame got bad. He didn’t speak unless spoken to, but the tension rolled off him in waves like a bomb waiting for someone to trigger it. His fists were clenched the entire time, even when your body seized and your vents wheezed like you were drowning on dry air. “I’ve seen ‘bots fall apart in my hands,” he muttered one night, eyes locked on your dimmed optics. “Never thought it’d hurt like this.” His voice cracked for just a second before he stuffed it down.

No one else saw that moment. He made sure of it. But you heard it—through the haze of pain and corrupted data, you heard the fragging heartbreak in his voice. The worst night came when your spark signal flatlined for 4.3 seconds. Ratchet got it back, but Wheeljack didn’t speak for an hour after. Not one word.

He just stared at you like he was memorizing everything in case it was the last time. When you jolted awake with a scream during the antivirus injection, he held you down himself, letting your thrashing scorch the paint off his arms. “Easy, sweetheart. Come on. I’ve got you,” he whispered like a promise.

When it was finally over, and your vitals stabilized, he didn’t cheer like the others. He just slumped into the wall and let his optics close. You’d never seen Wheeljack rest before, it was almost unsettling. He didn’t speak until you weakly reached for his servo, and he took it like it was the most precious thing in the universe. “Welcome back,” he whispered, smiling with that cocky lopsided grin that always made your spark flutter. “Told you you were tougher than scrap.”

Late at night, when the others were recharging and the base had gone still, he’d sit beside your berth and tell you Wrecker stories, a wild, impossible tales of explosive stunts and near-death victories. But there was always a pause at the end. A breath. A moment where he looked down at your frame and whispered, “Nothing I survived out there scared me half as much as this did.”

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

❀

BULKHEAD - Autobot

Bulkhead instantly panics the moment you stumble mid-step. You’ve handled worse injuries before, but this was different. Your optics dimmed, and your balance gave out. He caught you before you hit the ground, yelling your name so loud it echoed through the base.

When Ratchet announces it’s Cybonic Plague, Bulkhead nearly shuts down. He’s heard of it, he’s lost Wrecker comrades to it in the war, and the thought of you having it nearly crushes him.

Bulkhead refuses to leave your side, even when ordered to. He snaps, “I don’t care if Megatron walks through that door. I’m not leaving them.” Miko tries to convince him to get some rest, but he just shakes his head.

He strokes your helm gently whenever you’re unconscious. It’s a side of Bulkhead few ever get to see, soft, wordless care. His massive servos are surprisingly gentle, brushing away coolant leaks and static from your face. Sometimes he whispers old Wrecker stories, just to fill the silence.

He threatens to storm the Decepticon base for a cure if needed. When Ratchet mentions the cure once came from Soundwave’s systems, Bulkhead's optics flash with rage. “Tell me where, and I’ll smash my way through if I have to.” The team knows he means it.

When Ratchet tests an experimental antivirus, Bulkhead is the first to volunteer to help. He doesn’t care about the risks. “If it saves them, then I’ll take ‘em all.” He’s the wall that keeps everyone moving forward.

He keeps a record of your vitals and treatment schedule. It’s scrawled in messy handwriting on datapads. “Just in case someone else gets sick. I want them to have a head start.” Even in your worst moment, he’s thinking about helping others.

When your systems finally begin to purge the virus, he almost collapses with relief. “They’re stabilizing,” Ratchet says. Bulkhead just lets out a broken laugh. “You fraggin’ did it, sweetspark!” The first time you speak after recovery, he nearly sobs.

He organizes a celebration after your full recovery, but it's more of a quiet hangout with the team. He brings Energon treats and music, keeping you close. The way he smiles when you're laughing? Pure sunshine.

He starts spoiling you with homemade energon treats. They’re not great. He accidentally makes them too spicy, too sweet, or too burnt. But he tries, and he beams every time you take a bite. “It’s the thought that counts, right?”

Even after you recover fully, he watches you like a hawk. He pretends to be casual, but you catch him staring every few minutes. “What? Can’t I look at my favorite bot?” he teases. But deep down, he’s still guarding your spark with all he’s got.

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

Bulkhead had seen a lot in his time, explosions, Decepticon traps, close calls that would make any normal mech fold under pressure. But nothing could have prepared him for the moment you collapsed right in front of him. One minute you were laughing, teasing him about how slow he was on recon, the next, your legs gave out, and you hit the ground with a terrifying clang. “(Y/N)?!” he shouted, running to you so fast the ground shook beneath his feet.

Your optics flickered, static buzzing through your words. You tried to smile. Primus, you tried, but all that came out was a pained whisper of his name. Ratchet didn’t need a scan to know something was wrong. “We need to get them to the medbay. Now.” Bulkhead didn’t wait for anyone else; he scooped you up like fragile crystal, whispering your name like it was the only thing tethering him to reality.

The word 'Cybonic' nearly made him drop. He’d heard it before, on the battlefield, whispered like a curse. It was a plague that turned circuitry against itself, shutting down bots from the inside. “ You’re kidding,” he muttered to Ratchet, his voice cracking. But the medic just gave that grim look he always wore when hope was wearing thin.

Bulkhead never left your side. He sat beside your medberth with Miko’s blanket wrapped awkwardly around his shoulders, your servo gripped tightly in his own. He didn’t care if the others thought he was being dramatic; he’d rather be dramatic than alone. Every time your frame spasmed or your systems flickered, he flinched like he’d been hit. It was like watching the world end, one glitch at a time. “C’mon, Y/N… you’re stronger than this,” he murmured on the third day, optics bloodshot from lack of recharge.

His voice was soft, nothing like the boisterous Wrecker tone everyone knew. “You still owe me that race through the canyon, remember?” His laughter broke into static halfway through, and he leaned forward, pressing your servo to his cheekplate.

On the sixth day, your vitals dropped, and Ratchet yelled something Bulkhead didn’t understand, some medical code, some numbers, some urgent demand. But all Bulkhead could see was the way your body arched, seizing, like it was rejecting life itself. “No, no, no! Stay with me, (Y/N)!” he begged, almost in tears. The world blurred, and he wasn’t the strong, dependable Wrecker anymore. He was just a mech in love, losing his everything.

When you stabilized the next morning, he didn’t dare believe it at first. Ratchet hesitated, then finally said, “They’re responding to the treatment.” Bulkhead didn’t say anything. He just slumped forward, his forehead resting gently against yours, shaking. You were still there. You were still here.

The day your optics lit up fully again, the first thing you saw was Bulkhead slumped in a recharge chair next to your berth, snoring loudly, with dried energon streaks staining his cheek. You reached out and poked his shoulder. He jolted up like he’d been shot, optics wide. “Y/N?!” he shouted, voice cracking. You smiled. “Hey, big guy.”

The energon tears shed openly, and unashamedly. Not the silent kind, not the pretend-tough tears. Real ones. He gathered you in his arms so gently it nearly hurt, rocking you like you were the last spark in the universe. “Never—never—scare me like that again,” he whispered. You could feel the tremble in his voice, but beneath all of it… you felt the safest you’d ever been.

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

❀

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berracids · 2 months ago

Note

I have a question what happens when Yandere Knockout and Yandere Wheeljack falls in love with a female human artist reader and who do you think will win depending on separate endings 🏋◀▶🏥.

Had to rack my brain for a min for this one ngl

Just like real art, it holds both factors of elegance and chaos, awfully representing the aesthetic of each of those two.

They despise each other’s aesthetics. Knockout calls Wheeljack “a walking scrapheap with delusions of symmetry.” Wheeljack calls Knockout “a high-gloss tool rack with a sparkle fetish.” You’re just standing there with your sketchbook like, “I drew both of you sparked up and neither of you have seen it.”

Both of them stop quarreling as they are both really invested about that drawing you just so casually mentioned. Knockout is sure that his sparkling is cuter than wheeljack’s.

They both try to “one-up” each other for your affection. Knockout gifts you rare paints, the ones they use for car paintjobs, is this a silent offer to use him as your canvas?, you aren’t sure. Wheeljack puts his years as an engineer to good use and builds you a paint launcher that makes uncalculated splotches of paint. You love both gifts. They glare at each other across the room.

You’re the reason they haven’t killed each other. Barely. You threatened to never draw either of them again if they fought in front of you. So now they have that bright idea that they fight around you. Insults get whispered. Grenades are “misplaced.” A wrench almost hit Knockout once. He hasn’t stopped talking about it. And he uses it everytime you spend time with wheeljack, “you’ve had almost sawed my helm with your buzzsaw but you don’t see me whining like you do…” the wrecker would mock him and his melodramatic act.

If either of them wins you, the other doesn’t disappear. Oh no. He lurks like jellyfish in water. Waiting. Either to win you back or to make the other suffer. Congratulations, you’ve unlocked a forever war… and both want you.

If knockout had won your favor, he will rub it in wheeljacks faceplate and boast about how you finally returned back to your senses as that an artist as yourself would always lean on elegance and beauty!, wheeljacks rolls his optics at knockout, be ready for snarky comments thrown your way whenever you bring knockout up around him or if he ever catches a glance of a drawing you drew of the medic, and knockout sees it all. And he loves every second that the wrecker is riled up and tries to take the rejection like a champ.

But if you were to choose wheeljack he’s paranoid. As heck, we are talking he’s screwing his screws back. Literally. Because he knows Knockout doesn’t give up. He’s one petty loser that’s for sure, He beefs up security around your studio, sleeps with a cannon pointed at the door, and refuses to leave your side. It’s sweet. And also a little terrifying. He treasures every moment with you. Both of you make art that explodes with feeling—sometimes literally not just figuratively —and you learn how to love someone who’s always a little too much. But wheeljack tries to tone himself down for your sake too. But not too much that he lowers his guard down

⌗𝗡𝗼𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴/𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴-𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘁𝘆 𝗼𝗳 @berracids

#transformers #maccadam #transformers prime #tf #tfp #knockout tfp #wheeljack tfp #tfp knockout #tfp wheeljack #tfp knockout x reader #knockout x reader #tfp wheeljack x reader #transformers x reader #transformers x human #writing #fanfics writing #tumblr writing #fanfic

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bones4thecats · 11 months ago

Note

You could do, Tfp Wheeljack x fembot conjux reader, both see Miko as if she were their Sparkling

TFP! Wheeljack and S/O Adoring Miko

Character: Wheeljack and Miko Nakadai (Transformers Prime) Requester: @zinnia1506 A/N: Cliffhanger at the end! Woo! Hope you like it! ⚠️ Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: Nothing really ⚠️

Disclaimer: Wheeljack + S/O are romantic while Miko is platonic

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Wheeljack and Miko Nakadai ═════════════════╝

🧨🎸 Wheeljack admired you since the first time you met

🧨🎸 As a fellow wrecker, you were known for your bravery and love for destroying anything you were against. And something you were strongly against was the Decepticon cause

🧨🎸 You had just finished clobbering a load of Vehicons when you turned around as saw a Ground-Bridge open, revealing a larger mech and tiny human coming through it. You knew the three of them well

🧨🎸 Bulkhead, the green mech, smiled and waved you to come through the bridge back to the base. Wheeljack, your sparkmate of many years, just smirked and waited for you to come by so he could wrap an arm around your waist. And Miko, the human female, stood there to wait for you to finally tell her the ending of an old war-story of yours

🧨🎸 Walking through the Ground-Bridge with Wheeljack hanging on you while Bulkhead carried Miko back inside was entertaining to say the least

🧨🎸 Wheeljack was raving about how amazing of a fighter you were while Miko asked Bulkhead about what you were like before the whole Decepticon vs Autobot thing started on Cybertron

🧨🎸 You four made it back to the base, much to everyone's relief, and you went to the base's rooftop to get a view of the planet you were on. Wheeljack followed you soon after along with Miko, who was kind of upset that Bulkhead had to leave for patrol

🧨🎸 The mech sat beside you with his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him than the edge you were sitting on. Miko just perched on your hand, which was on Wheeljack's leg, and asked you a simple question

"How did you guys meet?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like, where and when did you guys finally y'know... get to see each other for the first time?"

"Oh. We met quite some time ago, though I remember it like it was yesterday." You chuckled.

🧨🎸 Wheeljack smirked and pat the young girl's head before motioning for you to start telling the story

🧨🎸 As you spoke, a fighter jet flied above, keeping his height the same as he observed the situation. How cute... and beyond sickening this display of affection was

🧨🎸 Perhaps Lord Megatron would like to hear that the one-indestructible duo of Y/N and Wheeljack had a fleshy-weakness...

#Transformers #Transformers Prime #TFP #TFP Autobots #TFP Humans #Transformers x Reader #Transformers Prime x Reader #TFP x Reader #TFP Autobots x Reader #TFP Humans x Reader #S/O! Reader #GN! Reader #Cybertronian! Reader #Parental-Figure! Reader #TFP Wheeljack #TFP Wheeljack x Reader #TFP Miko Nakadai #TFP Miko Nakadai x Reader

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gardens-light · 3 months ago

Text

Flirtatious Company

After a chaotic run-in with Decepticon scouts, Wheeljack crash-lands in Earth’s dense, wilderness forest near Wolf Lake, Stranded in the middle of nowhere with a damaged ship, he's expecting trouble—but not in the form of a curious dog and its wary human owner..

As an unexpected storm rolls in, an unlikely bond begins to form. With flirtatious banter, subtle tension, and a slow growing trust, Wheeljack explores what happens when two very different worlds collide—and just maybe, discover something worth coming back for.

Content: TFP Wheeljack x F/Human Reader. Slow burn. Strangers to Lovers. F Receiving Oral. Face Sitting Kink. P in V. Size Kink. Fluff/Smutt. Mild Courage Language.

Word Count: 8,500

Inspired Song: Eastside- Benny. B, Halsey, Khalid

Wheeljack's servos gripped the controls of his small starship- The Jack Hammer, his processor running hot with frustration as he fought to keep the craft steady. Smoke filled the cockpit, the flashing emergency lights painting everything in erratic pulses of red and white. The ship jolted violently, alarms blaring in his audials.

“Scrap.” The Wrecker snarled through gritted denta, gripping the malfunctioning controls as the small scout ship tumbled through Earth’s atmosphere like a flaming comet.

It had been a simple recon mission, a routine patrol on the outskirts of Cybertronian space, when a pack of Decepticon scouts ambushed him. He’d taken a few of them out before they got a lucky shot in—right through his nav system. Now, with only minimal control, he was on a one-way trip to whatever patch of dirt and rock happened to be below him.

The windshield displayed a rapidly approaching landscape of green and brown, thick forests stretching across the terrain. He didn’t have time to scan for a proper landing zone. The Wrecker could already feel the ship losing altitude, the power reserves draining fast.

"Hold together, girl," he muttered, pulling every bit of power into stabilizing the descent, flipping switches in vain as warning lights blared all around him.

The Jack Hammer slammed through the thick canopy of trees, branches snapping like toothpicks as the hull tore through the foliage. The impact sent him lurching forward in his seat, harness straining against the force. Metal screeched as the ship skidded along the forest floor, carving a deep trench through the earth before finally grinding to a halt with a heavy groan of twisted steel.

Wheeljack exvented sharply, pressing a servo against his chassis to still the thrum of his spark. His optics flickered as he checked his HUD—damage reports scrolling rapidly. The ship was wrecked. No immediate explosions, but he wasn’t flying out of here anytime soon.

"Well, ain't this just my luck," he muttered.

Stepping out of the cockpit, the forest around him was dense, tall pines stretching high above, their scent thick in the air. The ground was littered with fallen leaves and scattered debris from his rough landing. Optics scanning the area, Wheeljack crouched beside the wreckage, examining the worst of the damage.

The engines were completely shot. The communications array? Fried. He wasn’t sending out any signals to Team Prime anytime soon.

Just as he was about to pull open a damaged panel, a sudden rustling nearby made him freeze.

Wheeljack’s optics sharpened as he turned toward the foliage to his right. Instincts kicking in, and in an instant, his twin swords were drawn, their edges gleaming in the dappled sunlight breaking through the canopy.

His optics narrowed. Decepticon scouts? A human retrieval unit or something?

The underbrush rustled again, and a blur of motion leapt toward him.

Wheeljack barely had time to process what he was looking at before the animal—clearly some kind of Earth species—bounded up to him, tail wagging furiously, tongue lolling from its mouth in a pant.

"What in the pits—?" he muttered, stepping back slightly.

The creature didn't seem to care. It barked, hopping in place, looking at the Wrecker as though he was the most exciting thing it had seen all day. Wheeljack hesitated, one servo still gripping the hilt of his sword.

It wasn’t dangerous. That much was clear. But before he could decide whether to shoo it away or just ignore it, another sound caught his attention—a voice.

"Dodger! Get back here!"

Wheeljack’s optics flicked back up , following the sound.

A human. Female, if my audials are picking up correctly.

You stepped cautiously into the clearing, slowing as your gaze locked onto Wheeljack. As your curiosity melted into stark fear, as your brain struggled to register exactly what you were looking at.

Eyes went wide. Posture stiffened.

Fragging organics.

Wheeljack knew that look. That sharp inhale which meant you were seconds away from either screaming or bolting. Maybe both.

---

His first instinct? Disappear.

Humans weren’t supposed to see Cybertronians, not if Team Prime could help it. Too much risk, too many questions.

The Autobots might play nice with ‘em, but Wheeljack wasn’t an Autobot in the traditional sense. He didn’t answer to Prime’s rules.

On the other hand… you'd already seen him.

If I... let her run, what were the odds she’d tell someone? Report a 'crash' to the authorities? Call for help? Wheeljack grumbled. I dont need human interference on top of this already slagged situation of mine.

The dog—Dodger, apparently—was still wagging its tail, completely oblivious to the tension in the air.

With a low sigh, he slowly released the grip on his swords, sheathing them away.

“Well,” Wheeljack lowly spoke, shifting his weight as he folded his arms, “didn’t think my first visitor on this rock would be someone so... small.”

Your breath hitched, h-holy shit! This... thing... is talking to me?!

Dodger barked again, tail thumping happily against the dirt, patiently waiting for pats.

Wheeljack smirked. At least someone was enjoying the introduction.

Wheeljack’s optics flickered between you and your dog—Dodger, who was still wagging his tail like this was the best day of his life. But you, however, wasn’t nearly as enthusiastic.

You were stiff, shoulders drawn tight. A scream bubbling in your throat- contemplating weather to let out to the world, or hold it in.

Wheeljack optics softened slightly, the way you were looking at him—the sheer terror in your expression—made something twist uncomfortably in his spark.

He wasn’t a Decepticon. He didn’t want to scare you.

He watched you take a slow, cautious step backward, hand moving in a subtle way—trying to get Dodger's attention without making any sudden moves.

Wheeljack shifted his weight slightly, raising his servos in what he hoped was a non-threatening gesture.

"Hey, relax," he said, keeping his tone even. "If I wanted to hurt ya, I would’ve done it already."

Alright... Maybe not the best choice of words-

But the second he shifted, just the tiniest bit, your nerves finally snapped. Breath hitched, and in a split-second, you turned on your heel and ran.

“Dodger! Come!” you called desperately, voice high with fear.

The dog hesitated for half a second before scrambling after you.

Wheeljack cursed under his breath, watching as you bolted without a second thought. Don't blame her, really... if I were a squishy little organic and just ran into a seven-foot-tall armored alien, I'd probably do the same-

But then he saw it—the terrain ahead. Wheeljack's optics widened.

“Hey, wait—!” he called, but it was too late.

You barely made it three strides before your foot got caught on an exposed root. Ankle twisted, balance thrown off completely. You pitched forward with a sharp cry, unable to catch yourself as the momentum carried you toward the steep incline of the forest hillside.

Wheeljack’s instincts kicked in before he could think, he lunged forward. Metal servos wrapping around you, stopping your descent just in time. Breath gasping as you clung to the cold, smooth plating of his index digits, fingers trembling.

For a second, all you could hear was the pounding of your own heart. The world seemed to slow down, as the Wrecker remained quiet for a moment, allowing your brain time to process everything.

Wheeljack carefully lifted you closer to him, ensuring you wasn’t harmed. “Whoa, easy there, darlin’,” he muttered, voice surprisingly soft. “That coulda been nasty.”

Swallowing thickly, forcing yourself to look up at him. His glowing blue optics locked onto yours, sharp and alert, but not unkind. You expected menace, something predatory in those robotic features. Instead... you found something else entirely.

Amusement. Curiosity. A hint of exasperation, even.

“Usually, I’m not the mech that the femmes fall for,” Wheeljack quipped, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

The sheer ridiculousness of the comment—especially after saving you. Blinking in surprise, and then, despite everything, you let out a breathless, disbelieving chuckle.

Something that made Wheeljack's smirk grow a little more.

Wheeljack carefully loosened his grip, helping you back to solid ground. Surprisingly mindful of his strength, allowing you to lean against his frame, as he knelt beside you. Once stable, a slow breath escaped you, placing both hands on your knees, testing movement.

Swallowing hard, glancing up at him. “You, uh… you caught me...?”

The wrecker gave you is typical charming grin, “yeah, well... can’t have you tumbling into the unknown, now can we?”

"So...” you exhaled, brain still catching up with reality. "What exactly are you?”

“Now that’s a loaded question.” Wheeljack tilted his helm, considering for a moment before answering. “Long story short? Name’s Wheeljack. I’m a Cybertronian.” He gestured vaguely toward the ruined ship behind him. “Some assholes caused my ship to crashland and now I need to fix it.”

Your eyes flickered toward the smoking wreckage, mind spinning. A-Aliens...? Aliens... are... real...?

Dodger barked suddenly, startling you from your thoughts. His small head looking up, the sky had darkened considerably, thick clouds rolling in above the treeline. You didn't realize that the wind picked up, rustling the canopy, nor the scent of rain heavy in the air.

Wheeljack quirked a optical ridge. “Something wrong?”

"Yeah..." you heavily sighed. "I forgot that a fucking winter storm is rolling in, but... if I quickly hike the 3 miles back to my lake house, I should easily avoid the rain." Pausing for a moment, your eyes flickered back to the Jack Hammer, “so… how exactly are you gonna fix that?”

Wheeljack glanced at the smoking remains of his vessel, optics flickering over the torn metal, busted thrusters, and the deep trench it had carved into the earth.

The Wrecker shrugged. “I’ll figure it out. The ol' girl has been in worse shapes than this.”

Your brows lifted, clearly unconvinced. “You crash-landed in the middle of nowhere, with half your ship in pieces. You sure about that?”

A chuckle escaped the Wrecker, “darlin’, I’ve gotten outta worse scrapes than this. Just need time, and maybe... a bit of luck.”

You gave him a skeptical look but didn’t argue.

Turning his attention to the terrain, mentally mapping out the uneven forest floor.

If my ship had landed somewhere flatter, I would have considered transforming and offering her a ride back.

But the wreckage, thick roots, and steep hills would clearly damage is altmode- and that was something he certainly couldn't offered. Wheeljack turned his attention back to you, watching you subtly call your dog again, as you stared at your map. Trying to mentally figure out which hiking trail would get you home quicker.

Dodger barked at Wheeljack again, as if impatient for your solution, his tail wagging in anxious little flicks.

Wheeljack glanced at the sky again. The storm was moving in fast. The clouds thickened, the air heavier with humidity, and a distant roll of thunder growled through the forest.

He let out a sigh, rolling his shoulders. “Alright, darlin. Looks like you’re bunkin’ with me for a bit.”

A startled yelp escaped you, instinctively grasping at the Wrecker's plating as he lifted you off the ground. “What do you mean—?Whoa, hey—! What are you doing?!”

“Relax.” Wheeljack casually spoke, carrying you towards his ship. “Not leavin’ you out here to get drenched and hurt yourself. I got room inside.”

Dodger barked excitedly, trotting alongside, as Wheeljack carried you within his palm. Maneuvering past some of torn plating, stepping up into the cockpit where the interior was still relatively intact.

Smoke had settled into the cracks of the cockpit, a few sparking wires flickered from exposed panels. The metal walls were dented, panels shifted out of place from the rough landing.

Lowering you carefully onto the co-pilot seat, making sure you were as comfortable as possible, before lounging into his pilot seat.

You stared at Wheeljack for a moment, something unreadable within your expression. “You’re... a lot more careful than I expected.”

Wheeljack huffed a chuckle, leaning back slightly. “What, you think ‘cause I’m a big scary alien, I don’t know how to be gentle?”

Shrugging, a small smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. “Didn’t really know... what to expect, honestly.”

The Wrecker chuckled once more, before kneeling in front of the control panel. Laying upon his back and crawling beneath it, the sound of metal scraping against metal filled the cockpit as he pried open a ruined panel.

Sparks flickered as he dug through the exposed wiring, muttering to himself. "Just...need to reroute what little power left to the backup systems, running long enough to properly fix a few things."

“You're... actually quite good at this." Your eyes flickered across the main control panel, watching parts of it flicker back to life.

Wheeljack scoffed. “Darlin, I’ve been buildin’ and breakin’ things since before your species figured out how to make fire.”

You blinked, eyes widening slightly. “That’s... a lot to unpack.”

He smirked, tapping the bottom of the control panel. “I’ll dumb it down for ya—this ain’t my first rodeo.”

Exhaling, shaking your head with a small chuckle. Despite the insanity of the situation, you had to admit… the tension from earlier faded a little. Is it his casual attitude? Or maybe the fact that he didn’t seem interested in hurting me at all?

Lightning slashed across the sky outside, illuminating the darkened corners of the cockpit for a fleeting second, before vanishing into the pitch-black of the storm. Wind howled through the dense forest, shaking the trees as rain pounded relentlessly against the hull of Wheeljack’s ship.

Wheeljack continued to work in awkward silence, optics narrowed as he stripped another ruined wire and reconnected it to the backup power conduit.

Then—the lights cut out. Completely.

The sudden darkness swallowed the cockpit, save for the faint golden glow of the emergency lights. A dull hum reverberated through the walls, and thin lines of light now traced the floor toward the sealed exit hatch—just enough to navigate by without tripping over loose plating or exposed conduits.

Wheeljack ex-vented, setting his tool down and wiggling out from beneath the control panel. “Well... Ain’t that just a stroke of some fraggin luck?”

You couldn't help but let out a small sound, adjusting yourself in the seat. Dodger shifted beside you, ears perking up at the sudden change.

“What happened?”

“Ship’s prioritizing power reserves. The non-essentials just got cut, leaving only the necessary lighting and heating online-”

A soft grumble, interrupted him.

Wheeljack’s optics flickered toward you, catching the way you shifted uncomfortably in the co-pilot seat. Arms wrapped around your stomach.

“How... long have you been out here?” his tone more curious than accusatory.

You hesitated. “Uh… since this morning...”

Wheeljack gave you a look. “And you didn’t pack any food?”

“No… I wasn’t planning on hiking further than I normally do, due to a storm that I forgotten about. Or did I expect to be temporary abducted by a ridiculously tall alien. ”

The Wrecker scoffed slightly, "fair enough."

Pushing himself up from the console and walking towards a storage compartment. Digging through it, searching for anything remotely edible for you. His servo landed on something small, crinkly, and definitely not Cybertronian.

Wheeljack frowned before realization dawned. Miko. That little gremlin must’ve stashed her junk food in, the last time she was aboard. He could practically hear her cheeky laughter.

Shaking his helm, pulling out a bag of chips and a protein bar, glancing back at you. “Here.”

You blinked, catching the snacks. “Where did you even get this?”

Wheeljack smirked, leaning against the wall. “Let’s just say I’ve got a human friend who stows away in my ship when she ain’t supposed to. She’s got a habit of leavin’ things behind.” He smirked, grabbing another bag and tossing it towards you. “Go ahead, eat. Ain’t no use starvin’ while waiting this storm out.”

“…Thanks,” you muttered, opening the protein bar. Dodger immediately perked up at the sound of crinkling plastic, his tail wagging as he nudged your arm, clearly very interested in sharing.

Wheeljack chuckled, popping open another compartment and pulling out a small container of energon. It glowed a soft cyan in his servo, casting eerie blue shadows in the dimness.

You paused mid-bite, staring at it. “What’s that?”

“My kind of fuel,” twisting the cap and downing a sip. Wheeljack gave you his usual cocky grin. “Don’t worry, I’m not about to start chompin’ on your food.”

Rain pelted against the hull in steady sheets, growing louder as the storm settled in overhead. Outside, the forest was cloaked in shadows, but inside the battered ship, the cockpit held a strange sense of warmth.

Yet, you couldn't help but watch Wheeljack lean back in the pilot’s seat, one leg bent, the other stretched out casually. Your eyes gazing at the way the glowing liquid pulsed faintly in the container, as it slowly drank it. It was… kind of mesmerizing, actually.

Your gaze continued to take in more of his frame, which was marked with dirt and superficial scrapes from the crash, but his energy signature had evened out.

“Hey... Wheeljack...” you finally spoke, gaining his undivided attention, “thanks. For… you know. Letting me and Dodger crash here for a bit- oh! I'm Y/N, by the way.”

Wheeljack grinned, leaning his helm back against the back of his seat. “Anytime, darlin.”

Another beat passed before you spoke again. “So… what were you doing here? On Earth? I mean... you don’t exactly look like you came for sightseeing.”

Wheeljack huffed a quiet laugh. "Like I said earlier, got into a bit of a scuff with some assholes, which caused me to crashland. Plus, I'm a Wrecker, crashin and breakin things, is what we do."

You blinked. "A... what?"

He gave you a proud little smirk. “Wrecker. Kind of like… a demolition squad. Special forces back on Cybertron- my home planet. We go into places no one else would survive. Dig up enemy outposts, track down Con's, sabotage supply lines—clean up the mess no one else wants to touch. Dirty, dangerous work. The kind where you either finished it… or you didn’t come back.”

You blinked, lowering your food slightly. "That... sounds intense"

He gave a lazy shrug. “It was. Still is, when the job calls for it. Back then, I ran with a crew that stuck together no matter what. Me and Bulkhead? We used to be tighter than any weld line.”

You tilted your head slightly, curiosity softening your gaze. “Bulkhead?”

“My old partner,” Wheeljack said, a rare fondness softening his tone. “We raised hell across half the galaxy. Got in trouble more times than I can count. He always had a bigger spark than a brain, but he had your back without question.”

“What happened to him?”

“He settled down,” Wheeljack said, his grin returning. “Joined Team Prime. You know—Optimus’ gang? Bulk and the rest of the gang chill here on this rock, defending it from Con's, while tryin to rebuild our home.”

“So… that means you follow your bos...Optimus too?”

Wheeljack barked a laugh. “Pfft—me? Please.” He waved off the idea like it offended him. “Don’t get me wrong, Optimus is noble—one of the best mechs out there. I respect the guy. But me?" the Wrecker tapped his chestplate. "I’ve never been big on the whole ‘chain of command’ thing. I don’t follow rules unless they’re written in explosives.”

You raised a brow, amused. “So, you’re basically a space cowboy?”

“Pretty much. Never stay in one place too long. Get in, do the job, move on. I’ve been to more planets than I can count. Some with three moons, others with nothing but ice. And plenty with fascinating native species…” He paused, glancing at her with a sly smirk, “which I’ve been known to explore from time to time.”

The word hung in the air for a moment.

Your eyes widened just slightly. “…Are you implying…?”

He winked with a smug look. “Let’s just say diplomacy comes in many forms.”

You snorted into her protein bar, choking on a laugh. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Hey, no judgment. We all find ways to learn about a culture. Some of us just prefer the... hands-on approach.”

Another laugh escaped you, genuinely this time. Despite the absurdity of everything, you found Wheeljack was… oddly easy to talk to. His confidence didn’t come off as arrogance—more like someone who had truly seen too much to be bothered with pretending otherwise.

“So…” you began slowly questioning, adjusting your position in the oversized co-pilot seat. Curiosity getting the better of you more than it should. “When you say you’ve, uh, explored other species… what exactly does that mean?”

Wheeljack chuckled, the kind of rich, raspy sound that rumbled low in his chassis. His optics flicked with amusement, knowing full well where this was going.

“Well,” he drawled, his tone dripping with mischief, “you’d be surprised how many intelligent species are out there across the stars. Some of ’em are not half-bad company, once you get past the tentacles and communication differences.”

You paused in mid-bite of the protein bar. "Tentacles?"

“Only one time. Learned real fast not to ask about mating rituals unless you’re ready for a show.” He gave you a pointed look, laughing when you visibly cringed.

“There was this planet, Veltraxis-9. Swampy terrain, had these bioluminescent creatures with skin like polished crystal. One of ‘em tried to barter mating rights with me by throwing bio-fruit at my head. Had to fight off three of their siblings just to get back to my ship. Whole species thought a good brawl was a love letter.”

You laughed, pressing a hand to your mouth. “That’s amazing. Sounds like you’ve lived one hell of a life.”

Wheeljack chuckled, sipping from his energon cup again. “Let’s just say boredom’s never been a problem.”

You fell silent for a beat, thoughtful.

Then—almost too casually—asking, “So… have you ever, y’know… explored a human?”

Wheeljack choked on his energon, placing the cup onto the main console while coughing. Optics flickering as he stared at you in stunned disbelief. "“W-what? No! I—I’ve met humans. Bulk and Team Prime’s got great ones around 'em. They're brave. Smart. Loud, but none are... I'm not going there! Plus you guys are so small. Fragile. Squishy. Not exactly built for compatibility with seven-ton alien mechs.”

You hummed thoughtfully, casually stroking Dodger's ears while the dog dozed peacefully beside you upon the co-pilot seat. “Sounds like someone’s lacking imagination.”

Wheeljack’s optics widened. “E-Excuse me?”

A smile faintly teased your lips, not even bothering to meet his gaze as you added smoothly, “It’s all about positions, Jackie.”

The Wrecker paused for a moment, spark slowly picking up it's pace as his processor begun to wonder. “…Alright,” he said at last, avoiding eye contact but definitely not hiding his curiosity. “You’ve got me wondering now.”

You blinked, feigning innocence again. “About what?”

“You know what.” He gave you a sideways glance, arms folding over his chassis. “You said it’s all about positions. Which position would even work?”

“Oh? You really want to know?”

“I wouldn’t’ve asked if I didn’t.”

“Alright, Hypothetically speaking?”

“Sure,” Wheeljack said smoothly, leaning a little closer, his curiosity piqued.

“Well…” your voice trailed off, tapping your chin thoughtfully. “There’s one that might work pretty well."

Sitting up just a little straighter, voice dropping just a touch more playful. “Imagine this—you’re on your back, nice and steady. I’m on top, sitting…” your hand raised to gesture vaguely around the level of his face. “Right about here-nice and comfortable."

Wheeljack blinked slowly, optics dimming just slightly as he processed that.

"And you…" you smirked, giving him one last teasing little glance, "would get to use... that mouth and sharp tongue of yours to explore me.”

Your grin widened as the Wrecker's engine purred, curiosity upon his faceplates melting into all sorts of mischief. As his words slipped out as a moan, "Oh... darling."

---

Your fluttered within your chest, holding Wheeljack’s gaze, as the air between you molten.

Every part of you buzzed with adrenaline. Unbelievable. Yet, here you both were crossing a invisible line with an ease that felt frighteningly natural.

Wheeljack's optics burned a vivid, focused blue, his ventilations slow but deliberate, his massive frame laying stretched out upon his berth beneath you. He didn’t move—didn’t dare move—as he watched with a hungry patience, as if giving you full control of the moment was some sacred offering.

Without breaking eye contact, you reached for the button of your trousers, fingers deliberately slow and popping it free. You could feel Wheeljack’s optics trailing your every movement, practically hearing the faint hum in his plating as you slid the fabric down your legs, revealing soft skin inch by inch. Underwear followed, pooling at your ankles before kicking both garments aside, leaving yourself in just hour oversized shirt that barely skimmed the tops of your thighs.

Wheeljack ex-vented sharply, the plating along his throat flexing with restrained tension. His servos clutching tightly onto the plush covers of his berth, optics greedily traced the newly revealed curves before him.

Hard, cold plating met your warm skin, the contrast sending shivers up your spine, while straddling his broad chestplate, knees braced wide for balance.

The size difference was startling up close like this.

You felt ridiculously small as you straddled his chassis, the slope of Wheeljack's armor creating a perfect perch for you- and it utterly thrilled you. The power difference, the way Wheeljack so easily could dominate you if he wanted, made heat coil tightly between your thighs.

Fingertips softly tracing his lips, as you leaned in closer. Your voice a playful, husky whisper. "Can I?"

The growl that rumbled from Wheeljack's frame in response was nothing short of feral. His optics burned into you, bright and unwavering.

"Oh baby... you don't even gotta ask." He rasped, voice thick with hunger.

Shifting your hips, sinking down carefully onto his faceplate, positioning your core directly over the his mouth. Bracing yourself by planting your hands against his forehelm, biting your lip at the sheer wrongness and rightness of the sensation—the faint mechanical hum of Wheeljack's systems vibrating against you.

Wheeljack let out a low, guttural growl of approval, his optics shuttering closed as he tilted his helm back slightly for better access. His warm glossa, textured with faint ridges that pressed and explored your folds with a slow, savouring precision that made your thighs tremble.

"F-Fuck!" the curse slipped from you in a gasp. Your fingers scratching and marking up the paint upon his forehelm, as your hips rocked against him instinctively.

Wheeljack groaned again, the sound vibrating up through your most sensitive places. He lapped slowly at first, savoring the taste of you, experimenting with careful, firm strokes of his glossa. Every movement seemed designed to coax out a reaction, to learn exactly how to make you squirm atop him.

As you grinded down against his mouth, seeking more. His servos finally letting go of the plush fabric of his berth, caressing your thighs with a gentle touch. Raising his servos just enough to hold you steady by your thighs, anchoring you exactly where he wanted you.

Wheeljack’s mouth worked with expert, unrelenting focus—every flick of his tongue, every deep, hungry suck drawing you closer and closer to the edge.

You clutched at his forehelm, moaning loudly, thighs quivering around his face as the coil inside you finally snapped, bouncing against his glossa. Mewling the Wrecker's name, as he explored your velvety walls.

Wheeljack groaned beneath you, venting hot air against your soaked core, servos gripping your thighs tighter to holding you steady, as you rode out every last tremor. Wheeljack didn’t stop—Primus, he savored it. Your essence coated his glossa, slick and heady, dripping down onto his lips, cheeks, and the seams of his mouth.

Wheeljack's glossa- hot, textured, insistent- swirled and flickered expertly against your swollen clit, while every hungry growl of his sent electric shocks bolting straight through you.

P-Primus! She's driving me wild! Her taste... Her overload... how it better than the richest, most potent energon I've ever sampled? Sweet, sharp and oh so fragging intoxicating!

"Scrap... you're addictive!" his greedy words escaped, just before pressing his mouth even harder against your dripping heat. Drinking your essence in, like a starved mech.

Your vision blurred, body trembling as you feel the orgasm building deep in your core, the tension coiling so tight it almost hurt.

Wrapping his lips fully around your clit, drawing hard, as his glossa delivering quick, precise strokes against your entrance- and that was it.

Head falling back, a broken, desperate moan escaping you and filling his private quarters. "Jackie!"

The climax ripped through you like a tidal wave. Pleasure zapping across your neves- white hot and overwhelming. Your thighs clamping around his helm, fingers pulling at the seams of his forehelm without thought. Needing something to hold onto as you rode out the shuddering wrecking upon your body.

Your essence spilled over the Wrecker, slick and dripping across his glossa, lips and down his sharp cheekplates. Wheeljack growled, low and satisfied, the sound vibrating deep into you as he licked and sucked every drop from your folds. His glossa sliding into every slick curve, mouth exploring with single-minded worship. Wheeljack's fan whirled loudly, struggling to keep his systems from overheating as he devoured you.

Whimpering softly, trembling atop him, still caught in the afterglow. Your body was loose, molten with release, but your teasing, wicked smile never left. Even as you paused for a moment to catch your breath, running your fingers down the side of Wheeljack's faceplates.

"You're... way too good at that."

Wheeljack finally pulled back slightly, optics gleaming up at you with a smug expression of pure satisfaction. His entire mouth, chin, and cheeks glistened with your wetness, licking his lips slowly and deliberately.

"Guess I do... have a little imagination after all." He rasped, the roughness of his voice making your thighs clench again.

"Th-That... was the hottest thing I've ever experienced."

The Wrecker shifted slightly under you, giving your half naked body a slow glance up and down. "Now... you gonna let me keep exploring? Or was that just a... scenic tour?"

Before you could tease back, Wheeljack shifted again with careful ease. Lifting you gently and placing you at the end of his berth, placing a firm pillow beneath your lower back and hips. Adjusting till he felt like you were perfectly supported. Before his servos caressed your thighs, thumbs stroking gentle circles into your skin, subtly exploring your flexibility- feeling the way your joints and muscles move beneath his servos.

Your heart couldn't help but flutter a little, as you watched this ridiculously strong, armoured mech, who could without a doubt tear through his enemies without blinking. Yet treating you with such care and precious touch.

Kneeling down, removing his buckling modesty plate with a low metallic hiss. Your breath caught in your throat as Wheeljack's sleek white and thick spike emerged, the polished surface glinting slightly under the golden hue of the ship's emergency lights. Watching him give it a slow pump, before hesitatingly placing his thick tip close to your core.

Your legs naturally fell further apart for him, simply motioning him closer with your index finger.

Wheeljack groaned under his breath as he coated himself in your arousal, sliding his tip up and down your wetness, savouring the way you trembled beneath him. "Primus, you're soaked."

Slowly- agonizingly slowly- he began to push into you. A rasp, gasp escaped you, fingers clutching onto the soft berth as your dripping core stretched around him. Feeling the slow, delicious sense of Wheeljack filling you inch by careful inch, while he watched your expression for any signs of discomfort.

F-Frag, she's takin me like... she was made... for me.

As Wheeljack pushed deeper, every inch of him stretched you even more- filling you more completely than you could of ever imagined. And when he finally bottomed out, your hips meeting the heavy, solid weight of his plating. A low growl rumbled deep within his chassis, optics glinting while looking at the sight of you stretching around him.

His free servo traced up towards your torso, catching the hem of your top, shoving it up with impatience till your breasts spilled free with a subtle bounce. Dipping his helm towards you, his mouth nipping and sucking upon the soft, sensitive flesh.

A heavy gasp escaped you, as you arched into his touch. The wet heat of his mouth, making your thighs tremble even more with his relentless thrusts against your core. Wheeljack's pace picked up with each passing moment, each movement becoming more desperate and hungry. The berth creaked beneath the pair of you, your breasts bouncing with each hard snap of his hips against yours.

The sound of your moans echoed off the curved metal walls of his private quarters, mixing in with the faint hum of the rainstorm battering against the Jack Hammer's hull.

"H-Harder... Harder-!"

"As you wish, darlin." Wheeljack grunted, his servo upon your hip moved towards your ass and giving it a good sqweeze. Spreading your legs a little more, before pushing his spike deeper into you, "you like it rough, don't you, baby? You like me. Want me to wreck and ruin this pretty frame of yours."

Every thrust pushed you higher, your body singing with pleasure, teetering on the edge of collapse. Both of your movements were a raw, frantic rhythm, condensation built up against Wheeljack's plates. His lips caught yours in a heated kiss, tongues swirling and tangling as you explored each other. Clutching onto his neck cables, as your hips rolled up, meeting his with each rough thrust.

"J-Jackie! I'm-! I'm-!-"

"Overload for me, darlin!" he panted, rutting into you harder and deeper, causing the berth to creak more under the force. "I wanna feel you on my spike! Let go, darlin- let me feel you!"

Your body clenched and fluttered around him, the pressure inside you snapping into a another, overwhelming orgasm. Screaming the Wrecker's name as your nails raked over his servos, scratching into his paint and leaving marks. As your entire body shuddered, coming undone harder than you'd ever had. Wheeljack's thrusts became more erratic and desperate, as he drove into you a few more times before finally shuddering.

"B-By the fraggin AllSpark!"

You felt him spill deep inside you, thick and heavy, as Wheeljack collapsed carefully atop of you, bracing himself upon his elbows. His entire frame trembling from the force of his release.

For a long moment, the only sound were both of your ragged breaths. Wheeljack remained hovering over you for a moment, your bodies still joined in the most intimate way possible. His vents huffed softly against your flushed skin, but his optics were fixed—absolutely locked—on the place where you both were still connected.

There you were, stretched so beautifully around the thick base of his spike, your slick folds glistening, clinging to him as if trying to keep him buried inside.

The sight alone made a shudder rack Wheeljack's entire frame. A deep, strange, overwhelming satisfaction rippled through Wheeljack's systems, something far deeper than simple release.

Bliss. Pure, unfiltered bliss.

He hadn't felt anything like it in centuries. Not after battles. Not after surviving the impossible. Not even during his wildest, reckless nights of pleasure across distant stars.

Nothing—nothing—compared to this.

“Fraggin’… stars,” Wheeljack muttered hoarsely, optics half-lidded, awe etched into every movement. His spike throbbed inside you, his frame vibrating slightly under the overwhelming surge of emotion.

He couldn’t help himself. Leaning down, cradling your face with a large, trembling servo, his thumb brushing tenderly over your flushed cheek, before planting a kiss upon your lips.

It was slow, deep, worshipful. Deliberate. Adoring. The kiss of a mech who had finally found something precious after centuries of believing nothing could ever stir his spark like this again.

A silent praise, silent gratitude pouring from him in a way words could never capture.

Reluctantly—carefully—Wheeljack finally pulled out, letting out a low, shuddering groan as he watched the thick evidence of their joining glisten between your thighs.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. Simply slumped back against the berth with a heavy breathes, sprawling out as much as you both could. Staring up at the ceiling of his private quarters, listening to the faint hum of the ship's systems and the rain still drumming on the hull.

The heat of the moment ebbed into a lazy, heavy stillness. Both of your bodies slick with the remnants of your union, breathing gradually slowing.

Wheeljack couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so... weightless.

Catching your breath first, turning your head to look up at him-and out of nowhere, a soft giggle bubbled up from your throat.

The Wrecker raised an optic ridge, voice low and rough-edged from exertion. "What's so funny, darlin?"

Softly, playfully biting your bottom lip, as your eyes sparkled with mischief. "I was just thinking... you're probably gonna be in so much trouble with your boss, if he'd find out you've been... y'know... exploring the native species of Earth."

Wheeljack barked a low laugh, the sound vibrating through his frame. Without a word, he reached over, strong but gentle, and effortlessly scooping you up. Causing a tiny squeak of surprise to escape you, as he shifted, maneuvering you stomach-first across his broad, warm chassis.

You relaxed instantly against him, cheek resting against the smooth, humming metal. Feeling the steady, powerful thrum of his spark deep inside its chamber, the rhythmic pulse beating against your heart in a strange, beautiful sync.

Wheeljack ran a single large digit through your tangled hair, the touch slow and affectionate—tracing lazy, soothing paths. Tilting his helm slightly, peering down at your small form sprawled over him, and smiled—really smiled.

"Darlin," he murmured, voice filled with his usual flirtatious tone. “I don’t care what Prime—or anybody—thinks. I’m the only one who decides how much trouble something’s worth, and tonight?... Tonight was worth all the trouble in the galaxy."

The Next Morning

A warm beam of morning light pushed through the small slats in the ship’s damaged hull, catching the dust in golden shafts as the storm outside gave way to a quiet dawn. The ship continued its steady rhythm, though a few weak sparks occasionally flickered from the cockpit wiring.

You stirred slowly, breath catching with the faint ache in your core. Dodger's quiet tail thumped gently against the berth, staring at you with bright, expectant eyes. Turning your head, smiling sleepily as the dog nuzzled into your, happy to see you awake. Looking to your side and let out a soft, amused breath, as Wheeljack had left a half-crushed packet of Miko’s snacks and a small water bottle on a nearby console beside the berth.

Your smile widened just a little, as your gaze raked over a holo-pad with a message written:

Mornin Darlin, I'm afraid your pup got into Miko's snacks during our... 'exploration' last night, so blame him for the lack of nutrients. Be outside fixin the engine. Yell if you need anythin - Wheeljack

Reaching for one of the snack bars, opening it and taking a few slow bites, before washing it down with the water. Petting Dodger's head, murmuring a soft "Morning, boy," before brushing hair from your face. Heart fluttering, butterflies entangling your nerves, as your gaze looked at the floor beside the console. Gratitude swelling inside your chest, noticing that Wheeljack neatly folded your jeans and draping them over your hiking backpack.

A man in the streets, yet a Wrecker in the sheets.

The distant sound of metal clanking and muttered Cybertronian swears caught your attention as you got dressed. Curious, sliding out of the berth. Dodger followed, tail wagging, as you made your way to the open hatch and stepped outside the ship.

The air was crisp and cool, filled with the earthy scent of wet pine and moss.

Wheeljack crouched beside the smoldering engine core near the rear of the Jack Hammer, leaning in with his helm lowered and a servo inside the panel. His expression tight, optics narrowed in frustration.

“Morning,” you called softly, careful not to startle him.

Wheeljack paused mid-tinker, glancing over his shoulder with a smirk, a light teasing tone lingering within his words. “Morin darlin, sleep well?”

A smile tugged the corners of your lips, "of course I did, big boy... perhaps we could shower together next time."

The Wrecker's engine purred as he leaned against the Jack Hammer's open hood, his smirk briefly turning devilish before a Cybertronian curse escaped his mouth. Pain zapping throughout his frame as his servo slightly slipped within the engine, ruining the vivid images your words painted within his processor.

“What’s wrong?”

Wheeljack huffed, tapping the bottom of the engine's hood with the edge of a knuckle. “There's a busted conduit buried behind some bracework, but I can’t get to it. My servos are too damn big to reach into the slot.”

You raised an eyebrow. “So... you need smaller hands?”

He glanced at you, optics blinking in brief confusion. “I didn’t say that.”

“Didn’t have to. I’ve worked on my Jeep a few times—mostly patches and hose fixes. I can do tight engine spaces. Plus, I’m small enough to fit in there. You just gotta talk me through it.”

Wheeljack hesitated, optics flickering as he eyed the open space, then you. It felt… odd. Letting a human into a Cybertronian engine. But he didn’t have many options, and you wasn’t exactly fragile, last night proved that.

“…Alright,” he said, nodding slowly, then kneeling to your level and offering a servo. “C’mon. I’ll lift you in.”

Gently scooping you up with both servos, easing you toward the open engine, letting you lean in headfirst, while using your hips to balance yourself against the outside frame of the hood. One servo planted just lightly against your hip to anchor you. “Let me know if you need me to pull you back.”

“Got it.”

“Alright—see that fuse-link just left of the orange wire? That’s the busted one. You’ll need to wiggle it free, then snap the spare in place just above it.”

You nodded, hand reaching carefully through the coils. Your jeans stretching as you leaned deeper into the engine, pressing against Wheeljack’s steady servo.

As you followed his instructions, Wheeljack kept his optics locked on your movements. More specifically… the way the jeans hugged your figure, especially with you bent over like that.

His gaze lingered.

The soft denim curved perfectly across your ass, pressing tight with every subtle shift of your body. His digit moved instinctively—just a light brush, testing texture, warmth, softness.

Primus.

He shouldn’t have noticed. He really shouldn’t have noticed. And the images within his processor, of his servos caressing and squeezing your ass last night certainly wasn't helping.

His digit twitched.

Optics flickered slightly as his digits rested against your hip. And then—just barely— sliding down… brushing against the curve of your ass.

A soft, surprised sound escaped you—half gasp, half involuntary “Oh…”

His engine purred. Literally. Giving a deep, involuntary thrumming noise—low and unmistakably pleased.

Scrap.

His servo snapped back like he’d been burned, expression stiffening as he immediately turned his gaze towards Dodger, who sat by the ship, ears perked and watching with an expression that could only be described as judgmental.

“I wasn’t doing anything,” Wheeljack muttered, barely audible, more to himself than the dog.

Dodger squinted, tilting his head as if somehow knowing the connection between you and Wheeljack.

Wheeljack groaned, dragging a servo down his faceplates. “Not. One. Word.”

He cleared his throat and spoke louder, turning his attention back to you. “Alright, uh—slide the spare connector up two inches and twist it clockwise. Should lock into place.”

Wheeljack kept his servo steady, his processor desperately trying not to drift back to the way you softly moaned and subtly pushed your ass into the contact.

“Alright, now shift it two degrees left. You should hear a soft hiss—that means the line’s realigned.”

“Copy that,” you called back from inside the narrow engine compartment.

Adjusting your grip, reaching deeper into the cluster of wires and glowing conduits. Fingers fumbled for the right component, brushing metal and coolant lines. The gap was tighter than you thought. I... just need to reach a little further-

“Whoa—!”

Before panic could fully sink in, Wheeljack’s servos shot back to your hips, both servos firmly catching you just in time. His digits splayed wide keeping you from slipping, thumbs unintentionally pressing snug against the curve of your ass, holding you in place with startling precision.

“I gotcha, darlin” he said quickly, voice sharp, trying to mask the growing heat in his systems. “You’re good.”

“…Good catch,” you teased, voice low and amused, as Wheeljack carefully placed you back onto solid ground. “Lucky I wasn’t wearing a skirt, huh?”

Wheeljack’s systems faltered for a full second. “Primus…” he muttered under his breath, not sure if he was praying or cursing.

You laughed softly, the sound low and unbothered, and that only made it worse.

The low hiss of the engine igniting suddenly drew both of your attention as the power hummed back to life, the circuits responding smoothly to the completed repair.

Wheeljack exhaled. “Engine’s finally all fixed."

You raised an brow, crossing your arms, turning to glance back at the ship. Eyes scanning the hull with slow, deliberate skepticism: the twisted metal plating on the starboard side, the scorched edge of the wing panel, the multiple deep dents gouged along the frame from where it had plowed through the forest, and—of course—the cockpit, which looked like it had gone ten rounds with a sledgehammer and lost.

You looked back at him, brow arching higher. “Fixed?”

Wheeljack shrugged one shoulder and gave a small, shameless grin. waving a dismissive servo.

“The important stuff’s patched,” he said, shrugging. “I can control her just fine. Doesn’t have to be pretty—just has to fly.”

“And the torn-up cockpit?”

“Optional interior aesthetic,” he smirked.

“Completely exposed wires?”

“Ambient mood lighting.”

A laughed escaped you, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

Wheeljack chuckled at that, optics gleaming. “I'm more than happy give you a lift home, unless…”

"Unless what?”

He leaned against the side of the ship with that ever-confident tilt of his hip. “Unless you want a joyride first.”

You blinked. “A joyride? In a ship that just crash-landed less than 24 hours ago?”

Wheeljack spread his arms wide, like it was the best offer in the galaxy. “We’ve got gravity stabilization, minimal smoke, and snacks. What more could you want?”

Before you could answer, Dodger gave sharp bark, looking up at you with his best “are-you-kidding-me” expression.

You grinned, patting the pup’s head. “Yeah, he says no. Thinks the whole ‘joyride’ idea is insane.”

Wheeljack snorted. “Tough crowd.”

Stepping forward slightly, giving him a flirtatious wink. “Still, I wouldn’t say no to a ride home… minus the stunts.”

Wheeljack raised both servos, mock innocence in his optics. “No flips, no barrel rolls. Just a smooth flight home.

Dodger huffed, clearly unsure about all this, but trailed after both of you, as Wheeljack gestured towards the ramp of the Jack Hammer.

---

Wheeljack leaned back in the pilot’s seat, servos dancing over the last row of controls as the ship’s engines rumbled to life. The rear thrusters flared with soft blue energy, and the hull gently lifted off the forest floor. A few sparks flew from one of the battered panels, but the craft held steady.

Dodger barked once from where he sat comfortably next you upon the co-pilot seat, tail wagging in rhythm with the ship’s vibrations.

“Strap in,” Wheeljack said with a grin as he checked his controls.

A chuckle escaped you, shaking your head. “Just get us home in one piece, Big Boy.”

You gave him directions—straight shot through the forest and just a few miles west—but you swore, after a few minutes, that Wheeljack was stalling. The ship tilted, banked, and took a slow lap around Wolf Lake, the morning sun glinting off the water’s surface below.

“Enjoying the view?” you teased, secretly enjoying the slight detour

“Just calibratin’ the balance,” Wheeljack replied smoothly, optics flickering with mischief.

Eventually, the Jack Hammer hovered just above the tree line, cresting over a peaceful clearing where your cabin stood. Nestled perfectly beside the lake, the cozy logwood cabin looked like something straight from a travel magazine. Smoke drifted lazily from the chimney, and the front porch was decorated with a windchime and stacked firewood.

With a rumble and a gentle shift, the ship hovered low enough for Wheeljack to open the side hatch. Leaving his pilot seat, keeping one servo extended. With his usual, deliberate gentleness, scooping you up from the co-pilot seat, cradling you comfortably in his palm as he moved toward the trees closest to your cabin.

Wheeljack lowered, allowing you to sit upright in his palm, legs curled to the side as your hand rested against his thumb for balance.

Reaching the edge of the cabin’s path, he knelt down, lowering you as close to the porch as he could without damaging the ground beneath him.

You didn’t move right away. Instead, you looked up at him, face warm with sincerity.

“Thanks, Wheeljack… for everything.”

Wheeljack scratched the back of his helm, a faint hum pulsing beneath his faceplates as his spark fluttered. “Any decent mech would’ve done the same.”

You tilted your head at him, amused by how awkward he suddenly became.

But then, you paused before leaning forward. And then—without warning— slowly rising onto your tip toes, one hand lightly braced on the edge of his faceplate. Placing a soft, delicate kiss to his cheek.

Wheeljack blinked—completely still—as your lips lingered for just a second longer than necessary. When you pulled back, a faint lipstick mark in soft rose-red had been left behind, subtle, but unmistakable.

Before he could stutter anything that resembled a coherent thought, you gazed at him with a teasing glint in your eye.

“Don't be stranger, Jackie.” You purred lowly, voice dropping even more, words laced with sultry mischief with a smirk upon your lips as you stepped back down from his servo. "I feel like there's still plenty of... exploring for us to do."

Wheeljack’s engine gave an unmistakable purr, loud enough that Dodger tilted his head, curious at the sound. While a sudden influx of lude ideas filled his processor.

A cheeky smile flashed across his faceplate, "wouldn't have it anyother way, darlin. I'll be back before you know it."

Briefly pausing as you took a step upon the porch, you turned back to the Wrecker, sweetly blowing him a kiss as your heart fluttered at his fulfill promise. "Don't keep me waiting."

Wheeljack stood there, momentarily stunned, his spark thrumming faster than it had in centuries. When your door finally clicked shut behind you, he ex-vented hard, whispering to himself, "frag me sideways, I think I've just... sparkbounded with an organic." And I absolutely don't regret it...

#x reader #transformers fanfiction #transformers x reader #x fem reader #x y/n #fanfiction #fanfic writing #tfp x reader #tfp wheeljack #tfp wheeljack x reader #wheeljack x reader #autobot wheeljack #tfp #transformers prime x reader #tf prime #transformers prime

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dragonridernoobie · 1 year ago

Note

Hi, can I have a succubus reader who decided to give Asmodeus crystals to the prime team (which gave them the opportunity to turn into people), and how would they react to these gifts and the fact that the reader is a succubus? (Like from Helluva boss)

Good luck!

(What do the crystals look like for each team member)

Ngl, had to look up what a succubus was because I had no fucking Idea what that was XD. But I hope you like it, also I only did 6 autonots since that is the max of characters I do.

TFPAutobots X DemonReader

The autobots found reader on the decpticon warship. The decpticons found a cursed relic and decided to fuck around and they found out. When the autonots took in reader, they definitely had a lot of trouble dealing with reader. They were worse than miko! They kept pranking everyone, stealing, liying, and just making life hell. The autobots where annoyed but miko suggested that they use this as their advantage. Que the autobots sending reader to fuck with the decpticons when they are out numbered.

After dealing with the reader for about 2 years, the reader wanted to return the favor because the autobots were so nice to them. They disappeared without letting anyone know, and it scared everyone. After 4 or 5 days, the autobots find reader leaving a portal while holding boxes. They were about to yell at reader but reader stopped them before they spoke and said so causally, "I got you guys a gift."

Optimus

Optimus looks down at reader when they said that.

He just sighs and explained that they should bot disappear for days without telling anyone.

Reader says they are sorry but gives them a tiny box.

When he opened it, he was confused by the shiny rock.

"I don't believe I understand this gift."

Reader laughs at his confusion but explains that it's a magic stone that can turn him human whenever he pleases.

They also explained they got it from somone who owes then a favor.

Let's say optimus was very surprised. Obviously, he did not believe it since there is no way a robot organism can turn to a completely different organism.

When reader explained to optimus they must feel the magic and walk toward it.

Optimus dident believe reader but decided to humor reader.

Man, the look he has when he opened his eyes and he was looking up at reader.

When he looked down and saw himself as human, you bet ya he became Orion Pax once again.

After he let his old self out for a bit, he quickly got his composer and thanked reader for this magnificent gift.

Ratchet

Ratchet yells at reader for lea ing without telling anyone.

He says they could have been captured by the decpticons, found out by humans, killed, or worse!

Reader waits for him to stop ranting before handing him his small gift.

Ratchet just scoffs and yells at reader that this is no time for gifts.

When reader begs him to open it, he decided to do.

When he sees a shiny rock, he just confused

Reader explains it's a magic rock that can turn him human.

He doesn't believe it. Not even in the slightest.

When ratchet starts ranting about how turning a living robot into human, the stone glows and Boom! Ratchet is human.

Congrats, you broke him.

He just stands there, confused as fuck while staring off in space. Trying to understand the fuck happened.

Once he understands what happened, he dose not like the stone.

Humans feel wierd.

You understand.

Bulkhead

When you returned, he picked you up and gave you the biggest hug possible without crushing you.

He was so happy that you're back and that you dident die and he was so worried and those decpticons where horrible and he feared the worst and and and...

Ya, he was worried sick.

When you explained that you got him a gift, he was slightly scared.

Since you're last "gifts" where pranks.

When you handed him his present, he was confused by the small box.

When he opened it, he was even more confused by the rock.

When you explained that it was a magic rock that can turn him human.

Thank you, miko, for showing him movies because he was super excited.

He listened to you when you explained on how to use it.

He turned into a human and was freaking out.

Like, why does he have fur! Why does he have clothes, where did they come from!?!

There are so many questions, but you thankfully answered them all.

After he calmed down, he asked you to prank miko with him >:)

Arcee

Arcee told you off like a angry mother.

She told you never to do that again, or she would tie you or trap you somewhere.

After he calms down, you hand the gift to her. She takes it confused but when she opened it, she actally liked the pretty rock.

When you explained it was magic, she dident believe you.

When you told her how to use it, she still doubted you.

She decided to try it since she has nothing better to do.

When she found herself human. She surprisingly dident freak out.

She looked over herself and commented that she looked nice as a human

She thanks you for the gift and she is definitely gonna use it to mess with jack.

Wheeljack

Wheeljack was the least worried.

He knows you can escape the decpticons if you wanted to.

So when you returns, he just greets you normally.

When you offer him the gift, he takes it while saying thank you.

When he sees it's a rock, he was confused.

When you explained that it turns him human, he actally excided.

So when you explained how to use it, he definitely took full advantage of this gift.

He thanks you again and goes to experience human life.

He hated it.

He loved movie theaters

Car races.

And fighting random humans.

Optimus wasent happy with the last one.

Smokescreen

When you returned, he greets you slightly panic but also calmed.

He would ask you where you went and if you saw some nasty cons.

When you explained you where in hell, he has no comment.

When you offer him the gift, he is excited and then confused.

Why a rock? I mean, he guess he could throw a rock at a decpticon to confuse it or something

When younexplaied that he can turn human with this stone, he is confused.

He decided to trust yiu and follow you're instructions.

When henopened his eyes and realized he was a human. This dude would be screaming.

Not in excitement, more of fear that he is stuck human.

Once he realized he x an switch between autobot and human.

This dude is causing pain by pranks.

You just got a partner in crime.

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stardahlia · 18 days ago

Text

Twisting Tails

Chuckles and Threats.

Summary: Reader is a prehensile long tailed Humian(Human with a tail), and shows off to Wheeljack.

Warning/tags: SFW. Swearing.

Characters: Tfp Wheeljack.

Pronouns: You, Your, Yours, You’re.

Extra: None.

3… 2.. 1. GO! _____________________

Right now you are standing in an almost perfectly horizontal position, your feet firmly planted on the palm of Wheeljack’s servo, tail wrapped tightly around his thumb, head turned to look at Wheeljack while your body faces the ground below. Wheeljack finds himself rather fascinated by this, seeing your use of it almost made him want a tail of his own. Almost. “Pretty neat trick, for a fleshy.” You scoff and roll your eyes. Bending your knees you allow your tail to slip just enough for you to move your upper half under the side of his servo, grabbing onto the back side of his middle digit. Humians are pretty good climbers, with more muscle density where it counts, along with the added balance and grip of a prehensile tail you find yourself on the other side of his servo in no time. “Could you not try to piss me off for five fucking minutes?”

Wheeljack was almost amazed at your abilities, maybe even impressed, but the wrecker wasn’t in any hurry to admit that. He chuckles, baring his dentas in a smirk. “Aw, I’m just teasin’.... Fleshy.”

For a second you were set on punching him, before you remember you’d probably break your hand if you do. So instead, you opt to suddenly crawl and climb up along his arm without warning. You feel him jolt a little, almost making you fall off if it weren’t for your tail giving you balance. With a hop and a leap, you sit smugly on the top of his helm, letting your tail fall onto his faceplate just to annoy him. “You should keep in mind that I know where you power down, Wheeljack.” As much as you wanted to throw an insult of a nickname at him, you instead choose to use his name in favour of not stepping down to his level. And judging by his little grumble, you’re pretty sure he got the message.

“Is that a threat?” Wheeljack wasn’t smirking anymore, but he knew he couldn’t be too upset about this, he was trying to get a reaction out of you after all. He only has himself to blame. Although, he could do without the tail trying to swat him in the optic. “Oh please, do find out.”

_____________________

And CUT! Start of the tail series! The name I decided on is a simple combination of Human and Simian. Much like Havian. Not much effort but it works. I did actually try to make a more scientific name, but I gave up.

But having a winged series and a tail series makes me want to add an aquatic series. Maybe different merfolk for the merformers au?

#transformers #tfp #transformers prime #tf prime #tfp Wheeljack #Humian reader #tfp wheeljack x reader

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fandom-lover2 · 7 months ago

Text

Commissions Are Open

Hello Transformers Prime Fandom!!

So, I recently got royally screwed over by my last job and lost a lot of money I'd been saving in the hopes of seeing my mom in San Francisco when she comes over from our home country and am trying to find ways to earn a little cash on the side.

Given my gift, I'm hoping this reaches the right people and you guys can help out a bit.

Here is my masterlist if you wanna check out my other works

What I write:

Comfort Letter - $5 (500 words)

Written as a pick-me-up/comfort letter from the character of your choosing. Great for a bad day or gift for a friend who's having a tough time

Personalized Comfort Letter - $7 (500 words)

Comfort Letter written by the character of your choosing addressed to you covering any topic of your choosing

(here is an example I did for a friend)

Drabble (500 words) - $5

Short story (1000 words) - $10

Full fic (1500 words) - $15

Long fic (2000/2500 words) - $20/$25

I also love rewriting scenes from movies and TV shows and adding in my own lines/lines for my characters to add, if you've ever wished you or your oc could have been present in a scene I will rewrite it and add your chosen dialogue. Price will depend on word count.

Characters:

Optimus

Ratchet

Bulkhead

Bumblebee

Arcee

Wheeljack

Smokescreen

Ultra Magnus

Megatron

Starscream

Soundwave

Shockwave

Knockout

Breakdown

Dreadwing

Predaking

Will write:

SFW

NSFW

Hurt, comfort

Hurt, no Comfort

Fluff

x reader

Oc x character

Oc x Oc

Oc x reader

Won't write:

Rape or rape fantasy

Hate speech - character cannot say anything racist, homophobic or transphobic.

Editing and proofreading (beta reader)

If you need help with editing or re-checking your fic, I'm your girl

500 words - $2.50

1000 words - $5

1500 words - $7.50

2000 words - $10

Please DM if you'd like anything or have any questions

Thank you!

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cyberrose2001 · 5 months ago

Text

TFP Ratchet x human!Reader x Wheeljack

@mechdyke-after-hours when i get you.... when i get you.... how dare you influence me at 1am

any howw, this is just a drabble, a little tease if you will... enjoy :]

she/her pronouns used

Warnings: Spit-roasting, Praise kink (maybe a little)

Word Count: 383

18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

"C'mon, sweetspark, you can take it."

"Of course she can, but don't rush her," Ratchet massages the midsection of your back, coaxing you to relax, "She needs time to adjust."

On aching hands and knees, you feel the tip of the wreckers thick spike inching further and further into your pussy. It's a tight fit that has you burying your grimaced face into Ratchets' thigh, right next to his own engorged girth.

Of course, you've taken spike before, but every time feels like the first, especially with your two massive-in-all-departments Cybertronian boyfriends.

Ratchet shifts his optics from Wheeljacks' two servos on your ass to your hidden face, looking down at you adoringly. He brushes a strand of hair away from your cheek with the gentleness of a saint, "Hmm, not quite ready yet, perhaps."

Wheeljack optics snap up to Ratchet with an arched optic ridge. It's a look that the medic only receives when annoyed by him. He grips your hips and drags you against him, hilting into you entirely, all too impatient for your quivering little frame and to wait for Ratchet.

You whine and squeeze your eyes shut, clinging onto Ratchet for dear life. The said mech narrows his optics to Wheeljack disapprovingly.

The wrecker stays there momentarily, sighing at how you stretch and clench around his girth, "You joinin' in or what, doc? Waters not gettin' any hotter than this."

Ratchet looks down at you again, biting his dermas as you kiss his thigh. You seem to be well-adjusted enough, no longer whimpering in discomfort. He takes his spike, pumping it a few times before brushing it against your plump lips.

"Since somebot is impatient. What do you say, flower? Open up for me?"

With a soft moan, you stick your tongue out, letting the medic dance his tip over the soft, wet flesh. His breath hitches at the heat of your breath, making his spike throb and jump. You wrap your lips around the tip with another moan, and Ratchet melts, tilting his helm back in relief. He takes a small bundle of your hair to ever so gently thrust into your throat.

"There ya go, lick Sunshine up real good, Princess." Wheeljack drags his spike out slowly before sending you forward onto Ratchet's girth with one hard thrust.

#transformers x reader #tfp x reader #tfp ratchet x reader #tfp wheeljack x reader #tfp ratchet x reader x wheeljack #human reader #valveplug #cyberrosewrites

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savvymantis · 2 months ago

Note

anon who asked about the character limit, thanks for confirming! Also as of typing I realised your ask box being tilted I Need That is prolly a reference to Ratchet XD Nice one! As for my request could I ask how TFP Ratchet, Wheeljack, Bulkhead and Bee would react to their so calling them their husband?? There was this one trend going around where a spouse would be on the phone and casually refer to their partner as husband in a conversation. I just wanna see the bots flustered and confused, that's how I like my big robots

Dear Future Husband

Ratchet:

"You leave my husband alone!"

The playful scold echoes throughout Ratchet's processor, drowning out your cheers and jeers with the kids as you chase them off from his work desk. He looks at his frozen servos, then flicks his gaze towards you, watching as you pin Miko to the ground while rubbing your fist into the top of Jack's head as he cries for some uncle of his.

Husband.

Ratchet moves a servo to the computer, typing into a search engine. The results prove he's correct, a husband is a spouse, a married partner, equivalent to a conjunx, at least in the legal sense. Probably the sentimental sense too, considering how you are.

You called him your husband.

Ratchet glances back at you again, now buried beneath revenge-seeking children. He can't see your face behind Raf, who's sat on your chest, but he can hear your laughter. He smiles.

"Come on, off with you!" Ratchet shoos the kids away from you. They tumble and laugh at the gentle brush of his servos. "Don't crush my conjunx when I still need their help."

The smile you give him is dazzling, prettier than any star he's ever seen before.

Wheeljack:

"Careful, or your guard dog will come barking."

"My husband is twice the mech you could ever wish to be!"

Wheeljack knows a thing or two about humans, not really by choice, but he knows that word you said is meant to relate to him. He cradles your tiny form to his chest, blocking blasts with his back before he's transforming around you.

Breakdown isn't an opponent he wants to deal with right now, not with your life on the line.

Luckily, the Nevada landscape provides plenty of shortcuts and hideaways for him to make use of. You mercifully keep low and keep quiet, allowing Wheeljack to think a bit better about his escape routes. As much as he hates backing down from a good fight, you're a bit more important than his pride.

How will he question you if you're dead?

"All clear now, sweetspark."

You pop up into his driver's seat, grinning wide. "Have someone record it if you fight that guy. I wanna see you hand his ass to him on a silver platter."

"And I want you to tell me what a husband is."

Your smile softens. "From what I understand from Smokes, it's the equivalent to you calling me conjunx."

Wheeljack speeds off into the desert, throwing down the driver's seat so you roll into his trunk. Ah, so you actually got curious about him calling you that? Seems you both got some explaining to do.

Bulkhead:

"My husband's the strongest by far!" You brag, causing Bulkhead to pause and look at where you're stood before the kids, Wheeljack, and Smokescreen. "And you can't compare!"

"I was in the wreckers with him!" Wheeljack protests.

"Yeah, but he's still way stronger and cooler!" Miko pipes up, firmly behind you in calling him strong and cool. Bulkhead tromps over, faceplate warm, as he waves a servo around and dismisses the group bragging session. Not that is stops Jack and Raf from arguing with Smokescreen about who's the fastest of the bots.

"What's a husband?" Bulkhead asks you, once just you and Miko remain by him. Lifted onto the catwalk, Miko giggles and tries to climb up to his shoulder. He lets her.

"Someone who really loves someone else." Miko provides, tucking into the side of his helm. "Like how you love a conjunx."

"Is that the equivalent?" You ask, grinning lopsided and wide. Bulkhead feels his spark do flips when you grab one of his digits. "I love you tons, so you're my husband, my partner bonded to me in law and in spirit."

"Oh." Bulkhead lifts his other arm, scratching at his cheek. "Uh. . . Well, I love you tons too. As many tons as I can carry."

"That's a lot!" Miko chimes.

You just laugh, and Bulkhead decides to look up what husbands do, that way he can be a proper one, all for you.

Bumblebee:

"Ah, oops, hang on." You twist around, smile sheepish as you wave at Bumblebee. "What game did you want again, hon?"

Bee's wings flick upwards, and he gives you a sweet serious of noises and a point towards one of the games he already has. It answers your question nicely, even without Raf's help to translate.

"Right!" You chirp, turning back around. "My husband would like Ultra Racing Ultimate 4, please! I can pick it up in store, yes."

The conversation drizzles away as Bee's processor overcomes with static. He vaguely draws lines between dots, what husband means and what you must mean by saying it. His spark is lurching around in his chassis like it's trying to jump out to you, its true owner.

In the second it takes you to end your call, servos wrap around your waist and drag you into a teary eyed, utterly sappy Bee. He warbles his noises at you, leaning into the palms you brush over his cheeks and the kisses you press along his helm.

"I love you too, bubs." You coo, rubbing your nose to where his would be, if he had one. "Wanna scare the guy with how fast we show up to get the game?"

Bee decides he will conjunx you by the time he finishes his game.

#transformers x reader #ratchet x reader #tfp wheeljack x reader #wheeljack x reader #tfp bulkhead x reader #tfp bumblebee x reader #tfp ratchet x reader #bumblebee x reader #bulkhead x reader #tfp ratchet #tfp wheeljack #tfp bulkhead #tfp bumblebee

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boredandwiredkitty · 1 year ago

Text

WAIT! Before you go any further this is part two of a two part fic! If you didnt read the first part here is the link

PART ONE

REMEMBER this fic is NSFW and 18+!

Minors DNI

You fled to the next hangar over. Quickly running up the steps inside to reach an internal office. If you locked it you would be relatively safe. At least that's what you hoped.

But you couldn't get very far. Just as you got to the top of the seemingly never ending stairs he was already behind you. Your body wasn't synching up with your mind very well and coordination was next to none. The scent overpowering now. Filling your mind with dangerous thoughts and your body with a desire that burned so hot.

You backed away till you bumped into the cool wall behind you. Your hands flattening out against it. Hoping it would give you some stability. The offices unfortunately on the other side of where you were. His much larger frame already blocking your escape. Slowly he stalked up on you.

Every step felt predatory.

The way he stared you down. He was a desert and you were the last bit of water to drink.

He moved over to you till he was standing right in front of you. His frame still towering over you despite you being on the raised platform. It made you feel vulnerable. Oh so very exposed. You might've as well be standing naked in front of him with the way his gaze penetrated you.

"Stay away!" You snapped. Trying to sound at least a tiny bit menacing. Though you couldn't fight instinct as you turned your head to bear your neck at him. A subtle sign of submission.

His optics pierced you with the ferocity inside them. A caged beast ready to be unleashed. "Why did you run from me?"

The timbre of those words shot straight to your core. It reverberated though you. Your spark skipping a beat. Stoking the fire raging within while your body clenched around nothing.

"Because...." you trailed off. Why were you running? Your hazed mind starting to glitch. Why do you run? He could help you. All you had to do was give in. Your knees started buckling as he stared down at you with blazing optics. Charged energy crackling in them. Thinking was progressively much more difficult now that his scent was overpowering your senses. "Because of shockwave this is what I have to deal with. It's my problem." You grit out. Barely finding your voice.

His servo slammed against the wall behind you. Caging you in with his arms. "No it is not!" He snapped at you. His venting becoming ragged. "You have me!" He rasped. There was almost hurt in his optics. "Stop thinking you have to fight everything alone. You know we're here for you."

"I know... ratchet is currently making a suppressant for me." Your voice was low. You didn't realize your nails were digging into your palms as you fought the urge to leap into his arms and beg for him to take you. Every second you stood there it was getting harder to rationalize fighting your urges. You tried to control your breathing. Everything was overwhelming your senses. Him being so close. If only...if only.....

"I see." Was all he responded as he took a step back. Giving you some space. Taking his deliciously sensual pheromones with him. Giving your mind a bit more clarity.

He didn't want to leave you. He didn't want ratchet giving you a suppressant. He wanted to help you in a way only he could. It was taking everything he had to keep hold of his self control. Being in close proximity to your tantalizing pheromones he wanted to mark you right there and then. To bond with you.

Oh how he wanted to hear his name being begged from your lips.

As he moved away from you your chest throbbed painfully. A strong tug towards the retreating mech. That invisible chord that connected you both pulled taut. The mech so inexplicably intertwined with you. The sharp pain causing your eyes to water. Fuck. To hell with this.

You pushed off the wall and wordlessly walked up to him. You could hear your blood singing in your ears.

Yes yes yes!

You slinked to the edge of the railing and placed your hands his chassis. Running them up slowly as you pressed your body against him. Reveling in the delicious contact. Little tingles erupting over your skin. How good would it feel with more contact? The clothes truly had to go. You wanted to explore every detail. Leave nothing untouched. Your movements were slow and gentle. Teasingly sensual. The opposite of the desire that raged in both of your sparks. The hunger to touch and claim all that could and couldn't be seen.

Such a shame ratchet had to waste time trying to make that suppressant for you.

"I can't hold back much longer." He growled lowly. The low roughened timbre of his voice having an edge of danger to his warning. The vibration tickling your chest.

His servo caressed your face as you looked up at him. Energon now glowing in your irises.

"Then dont." You murmured back. Pressing your cheek furthur into his servo. Nuzzling into it affectionately. You were lost to your heat now.

His systems hitched. "Do you want to wait for ratchet?" His voice was strained. His free servo hovering over your frame. He so badly wanted to touch you. But if he started he knew he wouldn't be able to stop. Not with you teasing him like this.

"Ratchet can make it for next time. I'm done denying myself."

"Are you absolutely sure about that." Wheeljack urged. There was an unmistakable yet faint crackle of static in his voice of the strain he was putting himself under. He rather not be having this conversation now but before you started your heat. He doubted his ability to just pull away now that his instincts were in overdrive. He was trapped by your pheromones.

You pulled away from him. Your sparks crying out in protest at the sudden lack of contact. Backing away slowly from him just enough to give yourself enough space to jump over the railing. Fuck taking the damn stairs.

Wheeljacks panicked optics followed you as you went to stand in the middle of the hangar. The light from the moon filtering through the open door to softly illuminate your flushed features. Giving you an ethereal glow.

Celestial. Hypnotic. Perfect.

It pained him to think you might be rejecting him. Though he wanted to give you a choice. Even if it's one he didn't want to give.

You extended your hand out to him beckoning. "I want you."

Wheeljack was awestruck. His luminous blue optics drinking you in. Captivated by you.

"Only you can do this. Nobody else. It is your energon that flows in my veins. It has to be you." You confessed.

He didn't need any more reassurance. That was just enough. It only ignited the inferno that raged inside his spark for you. What you weren't expecting was him to mass displace. Only now slightly towering over you as he came to take your hand.

You could only blink before you were forced on your back. Him leaning over you with that same intensity earlier burning in his bright optics. He reached his limit. There was no escape for you. The beast was freed.

"What are you waiting for." You giggled with a murmur. Your hand reaching up to caress his cheek while draping your right leg over his hip. "Make me yours."

His servo gripped at the thigh pressed at his side. Digits pressing into the soft flesh. He decended onto your lips with his own. Roughly capturing yours in firery passion. A blaze that removed all doubt.

Moving to grip your ass he lifted your hips up. You wrapped your other leg around him for better leverage as he ground his hips against you. Earning a needy moan to slip out past your lips. The action made you breathless. Your hands gripping at his back. Desperate to press your body as tightly against his as possible. Any space was too much. You wanted as much skin contact with him as possible.

He bit your lips teasingly. Pulling away just enough to bury his face in the crook of your neck.

So enticing.

Danger flashed in his optics. He wanted that pretty and untouched neck of yours to bear a mark. HIS MARK.

He nipped at the area. Testing your reaction. Pleased when you gasped and ground your hips harder against him encouragingly.

"Please." You whimpered into his audial.

"Not yet." He murmured. Gotta save the best for last. It's much sweeter that way.

He sat up for just a moment to see you splayed for him. To ingrain every detail into his mind. To never forget. Your chest quickly rising and falling. Your glowing eyes glistening as your lips were parted in anticipation. But it wasn't enough. He wanted you completely bare for him. No obstructions from his view.

He was tempted to cut your clothes off with one of his swords but thought against it. You needed those for later to prevent others from spying on what was rightfully his.

You sat up as well. Taking the opportunity to carefully pull your shirt over your head. Your upper body now in full view. You wrapped your arms around him as he pulled you close. Letting his servos roam over your supple chest to trail over the sinful curve of your waist down to your hips.

Every touch was electrifying. It left you hungry for more.

You let your own greedy hands roam. Exploring different parts of him that weren't easy to get to at his full height. While kissing his cheek to his audial you let your fingertips trace up and down the underside of winglets on his back.

He gripped you tighter with a jolt. Never have he been caressed so gently.

So intimately.

You felt him sudder against you. Letting out soft groan in your ear from from your delicate touches. He could already feel the charge building within his circuits.

He tangled his servo in your hair close to the nape of your neck. Recapturing your lips before pushing you back down. Pinning you underneath his larger, stronger frame.

You were drowning in him. The heavy scent of lust mixing in both yours and his in a intoxicating concoction.

Your head swirled. Consumed by thoughts of him. "Jackie please." You moaned out breathlessly as you arched your back. You felt overwhelmingly empty between your thighs. You wanted him to bury himself deep inside. Your underwear were already soaked through in eagerness to take your mech.

"Wheeljack!" Ratchets voice cut through the night air. Making you both jump.

Instantly wheeljack moved to shield you from view. Snapping his head up to glare at the CMO with a threatening growl rumbling from deep within his chassis. "Why are you here?!" Predatorial rage flickering in his icy blue optics.

Ratchet noticed wheeljack clutch you closer to himself. Trying to separate you both now would be too dangerous. There would be no reasoning with the rutting mech. It was obvious that wheeljack was seeing him as a threat. Wheeljack was a skilled warrior. It wouldn't be wise to put himself between the two of you. But there was still something he must do.

Ratchet raised his hands to show he meant no harm. Now speaking in a softer tone. "I came to find you in case if this happened." He slowly shuffled towards the two of you. "I'm not here to separate you. Only to give you this." He stated while showing a cybertronian sized syringe.

"It's a nanite suppressant. For you. A precaution to ensure (name) doesn't get sparked." Ratchet continued. Hoping wheeljack was lucid enough to listen to reason. Ratchet was glad that he found you both before it was too late.

Wheeljack narrowed his optics in warning. Tensing more as ratchet crept closer.

As ratchet cautiously moved forward wheeljacks optics would flick to him then to the syringe. This was dangerous no doubt. Ratchet was mentally kicking himself for not giving it to wheeljack sooner.

Ratchet was now only a few feet away. "Wheeljack I need you to give me your arm." Ratchet urged the mech. "I'm not here for them. This isn't the suppressant. This is for you. If you want to do what's best for them please give me your arm."

Wheeljack glowered at the medic before shifting you in his hold. Shielding you more before reluctantly outstretching his arm. Sharp optics watching him closely.

Ratchet sighed in relief. It was going to be more difficult since wheeljack was mass displaced but it was just going to have to work. There was no way that the wrecker was going to let you go.

Ratchet slowly crouched and administered the injection. Watching as wheeljack let out a sharp hiss as the seemingly larger syringe was inserted. Once that was taken care of ratchet stood and backed away. "I will only say this. Please be careful." And exited the hangar. Taking care to close the door so you both should be left undisturbed.

While your mech was getting his injection you nuzzled furthur against his plating. Taking in his dominant aura.

He was agitated that you both were interrupted but calmed seeing your unfazed state. Your doe eyes peering up at him with curious hands roaming over his plating.

You turned to kiss the spot where he was injected. You could almost sense his pain.

Eagerly you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down to kiss you again. Your tongue finding his glossia.

You could've melted. Passion pouring through the kiss. You needed more.

You pulled away just long enough to murmur up at him. "I can't wait any longer. Jackie. I need you.

A soft primal growl escaped from wheeljack. Nothing was going to stop him this time.

With enough care not to hurt you he yanked your shorts and drenched underwear off with fervor.

He drank in your naked body lying underneath him. Ready to be taken. His spike begging to be freed from behind its panel. He wanted to sink into you. To feel you mould around him.

He placed his servo on your cheek. Slipping his thumb in your mouth to press against your tongue. Wondering dangerously how it would feel against his spike.

You sucked on it cautiously. Making a tremor run through is body.

He removed his thumb and brused across your plush bottom lip. No it would be too good. He would probably lose himself if you did. He trailed his servo down over your soft chest to your abdomin. Here. This is where he wanted to fill you with his transfluid.

He trailed his glossia across your skin. Nipping at your warm flesh. He wanted nothing more than to bite you right now. Instinctual need urging him to hurry and claim you.

Kissing your neck he finally let the panels shift to release his spike. Letting out a sigh in relief that tickled your neck.

Venting hard his spike pressed against your belly. Throbbing as you rolled your hips up in an attempt to grind against its length.

Panting with flushed cheeks you pouted at him. Your walls clenching painfully.

Testing to see how eager you were for him he slid his servo over your dripping opening. Coating his servo in your warm slick. "Do ya need me here?" His voice husky with the need to fuck you senseless. Digits rubbing against your bundle of nerves.

You could barely let out a whimper. Two digits carefully pushing past your opening and curling just right.

"Right there?" He rumbled leaning closer. His glossia trailing against your superheated skin.

"Yes! Right-ah! hah!" You cut off with a cry as he added a third to your needy entrance. Sucking on the spot where he would place his mark.

You felt lubricant drip on your warm belly from his straining tip. You reached your hand down to wrap your small hand around it. Giving care to pump your hand over it. Taking time to feel every bit of it. Imagining how it would feel between your legs.

Wheeljack let out a tense groan as you jerked your hand over his spike. Coating your hand in his fluids. You were making it harder to not slam it in. To make you cum hard against his needy spike.

He removed his servo from your dripping folds with a wet squelch to wrap around the hand that pleasured him.

In one quick movement he pinned both hands above your head with one servo. Using the other to grip your hip. With a roll of his hips he drug his length down your belly to rub against your soft wet folds. The ridges teasing your hypersensitive clit.

The sensation of his spike rubbing against your most sensitive area sent shocks of hot pleasure to course through your electrified nerves. Your legs trembled around him from the stimulation as little whimpers and pleas tumbled past your swollen lips. He watched you come undone under him with ravenous optics. His cooling systems kicked on high.

Lining the tip of his spike against your opening he slowly started to press it inside. You head tossed back your mouth open with a loud moan.

He sunk deeper and deeper. It was electrifying. The feeling of fullness spreading as he pushed all the way in. Fully hilting as you bottomed out. His spike being slightly thicker at the base made the burn of stretching amazing.

"Good girl." He moaned in your ear. "You're doing so well." He praised you with a deep rumble. The sensation tingling against your nipples.

You both stayed like that Venting hard. So close already to overloading.

The way you were wrapped around his spike was perfect. Everything about you in this moment was perfect. So raw. So intense.

Recapturing your lips he quickly pulled out to snap his hips against yours. Every ridge hitting all the right spots he swallowed your cries of pleasure.

He gripped your hip tighter as his servo released your hands to retangle into your hair. Pulling you closer as he began to rut into you. He needed you like he needed his very own spark to live. Charge building and building in his circuits. Begging for release.

You clawed at his back in a desperate attempt to pull your bodies even closer. Holding on for dear life as he stirred up your insides. The wet sounds mixed with your collective moans of heated passion was sinfully erotic. Just edging you further.

Your thighs clamped harder around his waist as you ground against him in time with his thrusts. The way his spike hit your wall made you see stars. You could feel the tingle in your canines.

You started to tighten around him even more. Your vents getting deeper and faster. Feeling your enlongating canines prick his glossia he released the kiss with a pop and watched as saliva stretched from your mouth to his. Burying his face in your neck he pounded harder into you. Instincts pushing him harder as your nails scratced at his back encouragingly. You both were right at the edge. So close. So so close. Your bodies so intensely hot with built up charge. You could shatter and melt in his arms.

"You're mine and mine alone." He growled before clamping his mouth on that special spot of your neck. Dentae breaking the delicate skin. Further tying yourself to him. White hot charge exploded over your systems. Blinded by pleasure as your overload crashed over you. Letting out a loud sharp cry before your sharp teeth instinctually sunk into the softer cabling of his neck.

Pleasure rocketed over his symptoms. A groan escaped his throat as you both rode the wave of your intense overloads. Bodies shuddering against each other in exertion as his spike released hot pulses of transfluid inside your throbbing channel. Trying to milk him of everything he had. You both tightly wrapped in eachothers embrace.

You both stayed interlocked. A thick knot near the base of his spike keeping himself firmly nestled inside. Not letting a single drop of your mixed fluids escape. Trying to cool your heated frames as the comfort of the bond washed over you both. He released his mouth from your neck. Licking the wound apologetically. The metallic tang lingering on his glossia.

Who knew human blood had such taste to it.

You followed suit and released your teeth. Nuzzling your face in his shoulder. The bond was finally complete. Before you knew it tears spilled over your cheeks and dripped onto his plating.

As soon as he felt those drops hitting his shoulder he tilted your chin to look up at him. Worry filled his optics as he stared down at you.

"What's wrong?!" He asked. Sobering up for a moment from the haze.

You let out a stiffled laugh. After what just happened his expressions were like night and day. "It's nothing. I'm just relieved. It's not an one sided bond anymore. I didn't even realize it until now that I was suffering all this time with a partial bond." You confessed with a sigh of relief.

His optics softened as he gazed at you. You were ok. More than ok now.

You reached and grabbed his servo. Fingers lacing with his. "We are biologically integrated." A warm smile spreading over your features. "Inexplicably linked."

He sat up and pulled you with him. careful not to hurt you since you were still tied by his knot. He held you close in his lap. resting his helm against your forehead. Sparks steadying as they synced together.

You both enjoyed the feeling of the completed bond while the sensation of his spike still pressurized inside reignited the hunger that consumed you. Such an amazing overload made you crave more. Your instincts urging you to do it again.

You tilted your head up to capture his lips again. Earning a playful growl to vibrate wheeljacks chassis.

You ground your hips against him. The sensation of his knot inside stirring up your hunger.

He gripped your hips as you rolled them against his. Enjoying the way his thick knot felt inside of you.

"I need more Jackie!" You whined. Feeling the tip of his spike press against your cervix. The desire for him to fill your womb consuming all other thoughts. You needed more. You wanted your belly round with his seed.

More. More. More.

You started to lightly bounce on his spike. The knot tugging at your entrance in such a pleasurable way.

As his knot receded you vigorously bounced on his spike. Lips locked again in heated passion.

He thrusted up in time with your movements. Intensifying the heat that pooled in your abdomin. You rode him eagerly as you both chased your nearing overloads. Chasing that sensation of instinct driven blinding pleasure.

A chorus of cries as your overloads crashed over you again you didn't have time to bask in it as wheeljack flipped you and pinned you down. You were on your knees with your chest pressed against the ground. A servo holding the back of your neck while the other held your hips in place as he continued to fuck you into submission.

You cried out and saw stars at the depth that his throbbing spike pounded into you.

Your nails digging into the ground beneath you as wheeljack mercilessly buried into your wet heat.

"Ah! Ah! Jackie! So good! More! More!" Pleasure filled cries poured out of your mouth as his hips slammed against yours.

He loved hearing your cries as he fucked you ruthlessly. Making a mess of your insides. Feeling the way they squeezed around him. Trying to suck him in further.

The way he animalisticly rutted into your hyper sensitive channel had you scream in pleasure. Another overload exploding through you with a ravenous intensity.

Your throbbing walls being that little extra push over the edge left him blinded by his overload. He leaned over you to bite the back of you neck as he pumped into you. The pulsing of your walls in sync with the trobbing of his spike. Spilling more thick hot fluids into the opening of your womb.

He stayed crouched over you still clamped on the back of your neck. Your venting the only sound echoing around the hangar.

After letting his heated frame try to cool itself. He let go of your neck to pull you next to him. Cuddling you against his chassis possessively. A servo slipping down to smooth over your rounded belly. Full of him. It stoked his pride. You were his. Your body full of his seed.

"You did so well." He rumbled in your ear. Softly murmuring prase to his little mate.

You nuzzled up against him as he continued to purr. It's soft vibrations relaxing you. You slumped against him as fatigue settled over your body.

You moved to give him a soft kiss on the cheek. Earning a purr that rumbled from his chassis. Wrapping his sturdy arms around you he adjusted carefully so that you were on top of him again. Contrastingly gentle in the way he helped you turn to press your chest against his.

He laid back with you resting on top of him. Rubbing your back as you relaxed fully. Purely enjoying eachothers company as you waited for his knot to release.

For the rest of the night you both rode out your heat. Overloading together over and over again before you both succumbed to exhaustion. It was the most pleasant dreamless sleep you both had ever gotten. Wheeljack couldn't remember the last rime he recharged so peacefully.

"Wheeljack." Ratchets voice rung in his head startling him awake.

Jolting up Wheeljack clutched you close while looking for the source of the sound. Fear coursing through his spark at the thought of an intruder. He would not let harm come to you.

"Wheeljack can you hear me?" Ratchets voice spoke again a bit more clearly.

Wheeljack now realized ratchet was comming him.

"What." He growled back. Trying to keep his voice low not to disturb you.

"Glad to see you're lucid." Ratchet spoke with a hint of sarcasm.

"Shut up." Wheeljack snapped back. Dragging a servo over his face. Why was ratchet comming him at such an hour.

"While I personally don't have an issue with it. Fowler might have trouble lending the hanger to you for personal use for the duration of (name)'s heat."

Wheeljack let out a groan. Of course. "Any suggestions then." He grumbled.

"I'll do my best to get Fowler to let you borrow that hangar this time but be prepared to possibly relocate."

"Yea yeah. Got it doc." Wheeljack grumbled again. Hoping that was the end of the conversation.

Wheeljack brushed your hair away from your neck. Staring at the marks he left. It was healing well and left a sense of pride in his spark. You were precious. The greatest gift he could've ever hoped to receive.

He was going to protect you. He vowed on his spark he would until the day he offlined.

Thankfully Fowler was able to convince the higher ups to let you stay in the hanger through the rest of the duration of your heat. It was a very awkward and uncomfortable conversation to have. On Fowlers part. After ratchet had to brief him on the situation of why you both couldn't be disturbed. Though next time you get your heat you would have to go somewhere else. But that was fine. Wheeljack preferred to be somewhere secluded. Far from others when you would have your heats. It's just that he wasn't in his right mind when he first cornered you in the hangar.

When your heat finally ended you both looked like you've been to war.

Love bites littered your neck and chest. Not to mention the ones that peppered your thighs. Wheeljack couldn't hide the scratches and a few bites on his shoulders and arms you made in the throes of passion. There was no point in hiding them. So he decided to wear them with pride. Like little badges of honor.

The other bots tried not to stare. Acting oblivious to what went on while you both were away.

It was when you were sitting up on the couch with two of the three kids when miko couldn't help herself.

"Wow. You look beat up! What happened?"

Your faced warmed. "Oh. Uh not much." You lied. Earning wheeljack to raise a brow with a knowing smirk.

Miko eyed you both suspiciously. "Something is going on." She stated with her hands on her hips.

You laughed nervously as she stared at the bite on your neck. "Tell me!" She demanded impatiently.

You glanced awkwardly at wheeljack while his optics glittered down at you with mischief. Guess you weren't getting any help from him. Whatever.

"I would actually like to know too." Raf shyly interjected as he peered over his laptop at you three.

"We were out and bonded with eachother." You told them. Hoping that would be a good enough explanation.

By the way miko stared at you. You knew it wasn't good enough for her.

"Then why are you beat up?" She asked deadpanned.

"Because...." you trailed off at a loss of words.

"Crazy things can happen while bonding." Wheeljack interjected. He had his fun watching his little mate squirm. Leaning closely he pointed to your neck. Letting miko and raf get a closer look at his neck and shoulder.

"It's so others know that we're bonded." He informed the teens.

Mikos eyes lit up in understanding. "Ohhh I get it."

"I still don't know why it has to look so painful." Raf stated thoughtfully. The boy genius examining you and wheeljack closely.

"That's just the nature of it." Wheeljack shrugged.

"Is it always like that?" The poor young boy seemed concerned.

"For the most part." Wheeljack stated nonchalant. "Not as painful as you might think."

"It wasn't?" Miko asked incredulously while looking closer at the bite on your shoulder and neck.

"I didn't really notice it so much." You stated slightly leaning away from her probing gaze.

"I'll tell you later." You placated the teen. You knew she was in biology class and was learning about reproduction. But Raf was still a bit too young. You wouldn't get into detail but would give a better explanation. It's not like miko hasn't read supernatural shifter romance novels before.

"I'll hold you to it!" Miko grinned at you.

#tfp wheeljack x reader #valveplug #tfp wheeljack #Spotify

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