#transformers x bot!reader

[fanged-fanfics]

☆ Why Not All Three? — Elite Trine x GN Reader HCs ☆

Genre: Fluff, Poly || They/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

──────.𖥔 �� ˖˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ──────

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Managing a relationship with all three of the iconic Decepticon Seekers wasn't a very easy task, with how much they tended to fight one another in the beginning. They each deployed different tactics of Seeker courting to try and catch your optic above the others. They thought they kept this all hidden from you, but you could sense it almost immediately

ᯓᡣ𐭩 It took quite a lot of time to talk to all of them and communicate that no, you didn't have a favorite, and yes, you liked all of them equally. After being reassured of that, you explained the concept of polyamory to them in length. After quite a lot of questions, they agreed to the idea

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Skywarp likes doing acts of service to show his affection. He'll teleport around, grabbing you anything you want, even if that means snatching out of the servos of someone else. He loves displaying his claws especially whenever he can, via scratching things open for you or subtly tracing them along your frame

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Thundercracker prefers quality time. He likes sitting with you on your berth, or leaning against you as you work. Nothing better than spending as much time with you as possible, as he says frequently. He's prone to falling into recharge while leaning on you. Outside of that, he's eager to show his strength to you, offering to spar with you often

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Starscream is big on words of affirmation. He'll tell you all the time how much he sees in you, and how much value you have for him to see you as a sparkmate. Definitely the type to brag about being sparkbonded to you to others whenever he can. He thinks his best feature is his pointed denta, so he makes sure to flash them to you whenever possible with his wide grins

ᯓᡣ𐭩 No matter how much you devoted yourself to spending individual time with all of them in equal intervals, you came to learn that they all share the trait of becoming easily jealous. They kept being backhanded to one another, one always being smug for having your attention at the moment and the others resenting

ᯓᡣ𐭩 One of the best ways to calm them was to build a system where you all shared a nest together. The three Seekers collaborated their efforts to make a nest perfect for all of you, made of the best materials they could each find. Once you began recharging with all three of them at the same time using it, they calmed down greatly, so it became nightly routine

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Starscream likes it best when you tend to his wings. Buffing, petting, tracing, anything like that. He's very inclined to showing his emotions through them, so feeling you appreciate them brings content purring to his voicebox, and it's an easy way to lull him to sleep

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Skywarp relaxes the most when you hold him close. Feeling your presence all around him is comforting, and he always leans into your proximity whenever he's by you to signal as much. Sometimes if he's in a bad mood he'll just crawl into your lap as a silent demand for the reassurance

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Thundercracker loves his helm being pet. He feels soothed by the repetitive motions, and tilts his helm up into your servo whenever you do it. He tends to return the favor by petting your arms or lower back in response, always leaning on your shoulder or chassis

[teojira]

I saw that you had transformers on your fandom list, will you be willing to write a 'bot of choice x human reader jealousy/protectiveness fic? Like in that one scene from Transformers 2 where the Deception Pretender tried to seduce Sam but Bee absolutely wasn't having that but had to stay in car mode?

[Aren't you supposed to be more mature than this?]

Summary: Optimus knows better than to get attached to you (too late), he can't help but side eye you and a stranger interacting. (Based on Knightverse Optimus, after ROTB!)

Word count: 800+ words!

Pronouns: They/them

Warnings: Optimus is bad at feelings, Optimus being down bad, extremely self indulgent. Mainly Optimus' Pov as well! Lmk if I need to tag anything!

A/N: Everyone who knows me knows of my obsession and love for this man it's so bad, I have him tattooed and have a whole ass shrine I love HIMMM, Thank you sm for the request! He is the love of my life.

Optimus Prime has been called many things, many of which are true, things he'd accept with pride.

A great leader, a good friend, a valuable teammate, A war criminal.

A jealous bot was never one of them, until recently.

He wasn't sure when he started to take a shine towards you. Was it after Unicron? When he held you in his servos, cradling you to his chest as he transformed back into his bipedal form, only letting go of you after the confused looks from Bee and Mirage.

Maybe it was a while after that, when you offered to help clean him up, Noah was too busy rebuilding Mirage to offer his services to the big man himself.

Optimus could never wipe the feeling of your small hands gently running across his frame, taking extra care to mend any scratches you found, constantly checking in to make sure he was comfortable.

He's ashamed to admit, but he kept shuddering under your touch, his senses overwhelmed by your presence. Every time his cooling fans turned on, he'd wave it off as it was just hot outside. (it's 60 degrees out, liar.)

He tries to recharge that night, but the feeling in his chassis makes him restless. He can see his sensors go haywire at the mere thought of you. He is so fucked, he shuts his eyes and groans deeply, his mask shooting up to mask the sound, lest he wakes the others.

Primus help him.

With his new revelation, Optimus tries his best to distance himself towards you, always making excuses as to why he can't drive you home or to work (a flicker of jealously when Arcee offers, no one catches his digits curling ever so slightly into his palm), saying he must go on patrol for the time being. He waves you off when you try and care for him, asking if he'd like any help with any scrapes and dents, saying he can live with them, he's been through worse.

Its only natural that you'd give him some space, that's the kind of person you are, kind, loving, respectful, loyal to a fault, but it doesn't escape his notice when your smile falls after he politely tells you you're not needed, his spark aching when you turn around to go find another bot.

Optimus watches you now, stationed on the street.

He has no right to be upset when you're stopped outside of the garage by an older man, the man so clearly taking interest in you while you're very politely listening and nodding, shooting that oh so pretty smile to a man who he's sure is not fit to be anywhere near you, not worthy of the warm smile you wear.

It makes him seethe in jealousy, and it's scary.

He can not remember a time when he had ever been jealous. He's a prime. He was supposed to be a calm and collected leader and yet. And yet, he's so close to blowing his hor-

You suddenly whirl towards him. If he was any better of a man, he wouldn't immediately think of how cute you looked, how your lips moved as you let out a yelp.

It isn't until that thought passes his mind that he realizes he used his truckers horn. Embarrassment trickles through his body, although now he has your attention, and you are making your way towards him. The man following behind you keeps the conversation going, not catching a hint.

Optimus is ready to honk again, especially if this man keeps following so close behind you, way too close for comfort.

You beat him to it, turning around as you rest a hand on Optimus’ cabins door handle, shooting the man a polite smile.

“Sorry about that, but my husband is actually here to pick me up, so I have to go. Have a good day!” And You hoist yourself up, quickly buckling your seat belt, gently patting the dashboard in hopes Optimus fucking drives before you're bothered anymore.

Optimus’ processor buffers, his engine revving as he goes on autopilot to tale you both away. Does he know where to drive to? Certainly no, but you're with him now. He's sure you could ask him to take you to distant planets, and he'd make it work for you and only you.

“Thank you for the save, big guy.” You smile brightly at his steering wheel, your eyes lovingly trailing across the autobot symbol that sits in the center.

“It was nothing, I am glad to be there to assist.” The cabin rumbles with his voice, soothing your anxiety. You curl into your seat, resting your head.

“Where are we going?”

“If I'm not mistaken, you mentioned wanting to go to upstate New York to drive along some scenic routes? I'll gladly be your escort.”

He is so ridiculously falling for you, but he can't bring himself to hate it, especially when you excitedly hop in your seat.

ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴏᴏɴ!

[love-and-war-on-cybertron]

Teach a bot to kiss: Rodimus

I rewrote this a couple times and I might just do so again. buuuuut for now.~

Rodimus taps against his desk, venting out a rush of hot air. His focus is far from the stack of data pads and he is trying to keep it even further away from the human sitting on said stack. Your focus is on your own human size data pad, trying to help him out. Optics lingering on your mouth, your lips. The shape, the color, the way they purse when you're thinking too hard. He wonders if they are as soft as your hair. Or more plush like your body when he carries you. Your lips move as you silently read to yourself, a flicker of your tongue behind teeth makes Rodimus give up any attempt to focus on work.

A few nights ago, Swerve hosted a human movie night. You had called it a rom com. Swerve and you loved it. Most were perplexed, but the snacks and drinks were worth a stay. Then there was the scene where two characters embraced each other and started smashing their intakes together. Being the only human aboard, and thus defacto human expert, the bots asked you questions about the strange act. The closest any of them came to understanding your flustered explanation was a data transfer without cables… and data. Just sensitive nerves of the lips.

Rodimus spent every night since tracing the lines of his derma, wondering what it would feel like to kiss. More specifically, what kissing YOU would feel like. Curiosity leading to more research of rom coms. More research leading to more curiosity. Curiosity leading to want. There was one teeny tiny problem. Actually there were multiple problems, including the fact he was the captain of the ship. No doubt in his mind that Ultra Magnus could pull at least ten codes on what that was not permitted from his memory. The biggest problem, is the smallest.

You. You are small.

Most organic species are diminutive compared to Cybertronians, humans especially so. Rodimus thinks it's adorable, who knew there was something smaller than a minibot? You are tiny and soft and fragile. One wrong swipe of his hand had already sent you to the med bay. If he picks you up and squeezes too hard, if a bot isn't paying attention to where they are stepping, if you fall off their shoulders. Just being around his kind is risky. When has Rodimus ever shied away from risk?

It wasn't like you two hadn't been dancing around some sort of mutual attraction. Snarky innuendos, compliments, any excuse to spend time together. There was something there. Rodimus may not be able to do a data transfer with you, but he had a mouth, and you had a mouth. could he kiss you? Would his size be an issue? what if he didn't like it? What if you didn't like it?

"Can you show me how to kiss?"

Looking up from the datapad, you give Rodimus a questioning look. Clearly doubting you heard correctly, "What?"

He carefully takes the datapad between his thumb and index, placing it to the side, his optics focused on you, "Show me how to kiss, like in the movie."

"Oh… Oh um…. wow." You take a moment and run your hand over your hair, "You want to… learn how to kiss?" He could practically hear you panicking internally. See your temp rise the same way it did when he would teas you.

"Yeah. Cultural exchange." Rodimus chuckles, tapping his digits against his face plate. The way he says that has you narrowing your eyes and catching onto his game.

"Cultural exchange?"

"Cultural exchange."

"Alright… pucker up."

After explaining why you said that, a little bit of snark, and a little bit of thinly veiled flirting; Rodimus had you in his hands, lifted up to reach him better. Your eyes flickering over his helm, his finials, the lines of his hands. Anywhere but his optics.

"Nervous?" he asks.

You pause, a hand on his chassis to steady yourself. Eyes finally meeting his gaze, "Yeah…"

His spark flutters at the soft tone you take. "Yeah… me too." Rodimus watches as you find a comfortable position, glancing up at him. He doesn't want to say too much and make you change your mind. "I'm gonna… just… you stay still, okay?"

Rodimus nods and keeps himself still as possible, feeling the rapid beat of your heart through your hands on either side of his face plates. Carefully lifting yourself close, his other hand comes to steady you. It reminds him how fragile you are. A kiss to his chin doesn't give much sensation, but Rodimus' spark still jumps and chases his thoughts away from those thoughts. A kiss to his helm and he dims his optics with a hum. Intakes hitch when your lips find the corner of his mouth, making him turn his head. Brushing against your mouth before he jerks back.

"Sorry." He mumbles, shifting slightly. Patience was a virtue he struggled with. One kiss in and Rodimus wants more, to kiss you back, like they did in the movie. You just offer him another smile and kiss again. The metal here has some give to it, smooth, warmer than the rest of him. Which was a lot to say for a bot that already ran hotter than most. From the corner, to the center; small pecks trace the seam of his mouth.

Rodimus dares to give in and kiss you back, his movements restricted and stiff. Hand flexes slightly against your body. He doesn't like being passive, and shifts, hand still cupped against you to avoid another trip to medical. Every peck from you is followed but a gentle nudge back from him, the puckering eludes him. Doesn't stop the bot from pressing against your cheek, trying to mimic what you did earlier. It takes a couple tries to properly judge how much pressure he needs. It's more nuzzling that your typical kiss. A good first try for a cybertronian. Soft. So soft. All of you, but your lips especially so. Rodimus gets bold, trailing kisses. With enough nuzzling to find the right spot, your neck. His engine revs in response to your gasp. That was a good sign, he was doing something right. Another and your muttering something, pushing him away.

"That's for another day Roddy." You press your forehead to his chin and ignore his pout.

Rodimus presses a kiss to your cheek again and you can feel him purse his lips, getting a little better, "So I'm the greatest kisser you ever had, right?" "Oh my god…"

[therobotsarestuckinmyhead]

Can you do a platonic Optimus x cybertronian reader, who is an Autobot and Megatron's sparkling? Like reader used to support their father in the beginning, but when Megatron got off the roads and became the tyrannical warlord, reader decided to leave and become an Autobot. Despite having supported Autobots from the start and having Optimus's full trust, because of reader's relation to Megatron, reader had received a lot of mistrust in the Autobot ranks. This sometimes causes reader to feel alone and down. On Earth things are a bit better, but maybe one night reader feels down and misses the old days, and Optimus is there to comfort them?

☆ "NO PLACE FOR ME IS HOME" — [TFP] Optimus Prime

oh anon, you just want to make me shed tears and IM HERE FOR IT. this is going to be so tragic.

scenario: you consider yourself Megatron's… protegé but that's all that you wish you were to Megatron but at least you have Prime comfort you

warning: angst and pain, fatherly issues

You hate it. You hate it so much when the memories of who he once was floods back into your helm— It happens every single time the two of you make optic contact, Megatron is quick to look away first. He never acknowledges you in a confrontation, ever. The warlord tsks and walks away quietly, it's uncharacteristic of him but… you'd really rather not talk to him either. Your spark aches when you think of what's become of him. You can see the bitterness in his optics when you're in his peripheral, it's not the typical rage and hate. No. It's...

Sadness.

He misses you too. Maybe. You're not so sure. He isn't like how you used to know him.

With your knees tucked to your chassis, servos holding them tight against you, you sit at the top of the base. The somber night sky somehow makes this all the more nostalgic as you think of times when things were different..

The day you first met him.

The day your life changed.

“Uh… hi!!!”

The gladiator had just been done with another match, the precipitation and energon stains fresh on his frame— He will need to get to his sad excuse of a living quarters to clean himself properly. But he stops right in his tracks as the voice catches his attention, another fan? Megatronus prepares himself. He looks around, he doesn't see anyone and his optical ridges furrow in confusion. Was he hearing things? What's happening? The voice was somewhat high pitched and squeaky. Meanwhile, his new, tiny little fan was waiting there for their idol to see them.

“..here! Down here!”

That catches his attention and his optics immediately dart down. He sees you, a little bot, azure optics so bright that Megatronus might be able to use you as a lantern. Though, he is surprised to see a sparkling here, especially during this hour at Kaon of all cities.

“What are you doing here, little one?” He asks with concern, stooping down to your level as he observes you in curiosity. Megatronus’ warm blue optics meet yours and the little you couldnt help but feel slightly intimidated.

“Uhm.. I was here to just tell you that… that I really liked your match today.”

Your words make his derma curve up into a soft smile, such genuine sincerity he found so endearing but then it struck him. What in the name of Primus was a sparkling doing watching Gladiatorial Combat? You're supposed to be at the nursery! Learning how to… judging by your alt mode, mine by some soulless teacher before being thrown into this pit of misery.

“Are you not a little too young to watch such violence, little one? Where are your caretakers?” He asks, lowering himself better to look at you optic-to-optic, his faceplates turned into a mix of curiosity, concern and care.

“More importantly, what are you doing in the mining sector?” The gladiator tilts his helm in intrigue.

His question clearly catches you off-guard and you look at him surprised. As if there was something he didn't know happening.

“Eh… you- you don't know?” You ask, not really sure how to spill it to him. Since he was rather popular, you thought he would know the new mining policy changes.

“Know what?” He raises an optical ridge in curiosity, he keeps the aggression in his tone to a minimum even if he was getting impatient, continuing to squat down to your level in order to converse with you. Clearly, the gladiator isn't used to talking to sparklings.

“Well,” You think for a moment on how to explain this, trying to recall the explanation that supervisor bot told you. “The Senate said that they're low on energon so they said that they're going to take us out of nurseries much earlier!”

You have a smile on your face as you say this and Megatronus’ azure optics widen in shock. “Tomorrow is my first day! I hope it goes well.

The blind, innocent naivety in your big blue optics and precious little smile makes his spark ache— you have no idea what's coming for you. At all. Your smile drops a bit when you see the disgust, anger and shock in his optics. How could they be so cruel? To condemn such helpless little things to the Pits before they even know what the world around them is like. This wasn't even cruel, it was evil, vile. And the worst part is, your young little processor can't seem to realize that. Megatronus is speechless as he rises up, continuing to look down at you in… sympathy? Pity? There's a sadness in his EM field.

“Is… Is everything okay?” You're craning your little help up to look at him, you need to take a step back to see his face and he has the most sympathetic look one could ever muster up for a newly-built in your situation.

“No, no. It's… it's fine.” He snaps out of his train of thought with a sharp ex-vent, looking back at your tiny little frame. And he comes to a daunting conclusion.

There's no way you'll make it in the mines.

Now, Megatronus isn't particularly a kind mech. Not really. He'll help so long as it doesn't inconvenience him in any way. But this? He wasn't a monster. He wasn't evil. He wasn't going to leave a helpless little sparkling in the middle of Kaon (of all places), Cybertron's infamous crime capital. Who knows who else you'll run into? The gladiatorial sponsors? Criminal T-Cog harvesters? Smugglers? Slavers?

“You know, little ones like you will need someone to escort you back to your living space.” Megatronus offers, looking down at you. He remembers when he was sent to the mines, albeit much older than you are now. The idea that you, someone so young will have to endure what he went through at such a fragile age hurts his spark inexplicably.

“Whats a living space?” Megatronus pauses, he looks baffled. Leaning down to face you once more.

“...you don't have a designated living space?”

“No. They just dropped us off here and left.”

He knew The Senate was vile but this— this was ridiculous even for them. The anger bubbling in him is near a boiling point upon hearing your story. One day, little ones like you will get their justice.

Megatronus would assure that.

“Fine. Would you… Like to stay with me in the meanwhile?”

The beaming on your face, the wide smile. It was far too precious to be here, in Kaon. It melts his spark in a way nothing has.

But what the two of you didn't know was that it would become permanent. Your time with Megatronus is something you constantly cherish, you look back at it with bittersweet nostalgia. The fondness of… What was that word Miko used for her masculine parent? Ah, yes. Father. Megatronus was like your own ‘father’ in every sense of the word.

You look back fondly at every single moment you had with Megatronus, no matter how you used to feel about it when those events were the present— how he comforted you after nearly getting terminated in your first cave-in, the way he used a majority of his earnings from gladiatorial combat to pay a medic to repair you, the way he would teach you about literature and poetry… and most importantly, how to defend yourself.

You remember how long you had begged him to teach you how to be a gladiator, so you too, could be a star at the face of a crowd. Just like he was. He taught you the combat part, every fighting style he knew but forbade you from ever entering the arena. You were definitely displeased about that for a long time. You were so young and reckless, he constantly spoke of how he saw himself in you but that only made you feel proud of yourself.

You'd always put Megatronus on a pedestal looking back at it. He was the one that showed you what it meant to be alive, that your life was more than your alt. mode and what the Senate dictates for you— He taught you the idea of his revolution, ingrained it into your processor. But he never let you attend any of the rallies or protests, he didn't want you to get tangled with the brutal law enforcers of Kaon.

Then, the day that ruined it all.

That day, The Senate hearing— Orion Pax, an archivist was given the honor, the title of Prime and the Matrix of Leadership with it. You'd known Orion Pax as a friend of Megatronus’, a polite and timid mech. He'd always speak to you fondly, considering Megatronus took you as his own. But that day, the Megatronus you knew was cracking. Was it envy? Pride? Ego? Arrogance? He believed it was him that was better suited, it ate up his helm and it morphed him into something you couldn't recognize.

You remember. The violence was something you were used to, being raised by a gladiator and often sneaking to see Megatronus’ fights despite his disapproval when you were but a sparkling. However, this was a different sort of violence— Senseless. At first you'd agreed. Only because he, the newly named Megatron, seemed to see violence as the only resort to uproot the current system. And you agreed, and so you served.

Your association with the Decepticons was short lived but that was enough to see his spiral, you couldn't do anything but helplessly watch the mech that taught you about the world begin to tear it down himself. It started off with targeting senators and snowballed into mercilessly killing anyone that disagreed.

“Those who are not with us are against us.” You remember him snarling out before giving the order to shoot down neutral ships after you tried your hardest to dissuade him. Senseless killing. It's what made you realize that the warm concern of Megatronus had been erased by the sweltering hate of Megatron.

And every time you look into his crimson optics, you're reminded of that.

After that whole Optimus losing his memories fiasco, it did nothing more than to serve as a bitter reminder of what all you lost, reopening old wounds painfully. You don't regret joining the Autobots, Optimus made it sure you were welcome— As kind and gentle as always, although no longer the timid Orion. At least some things stay the same.

You continue to stare out into the sky with a blank face, failing to take note of the approaching and concerned Prime. You've been coming up here a lot more often ever since Megatron came to Earth, Optimus has decided it's time to have a chat with you.

The fact that you haven't recognized his presence tells him you're deep in thought, usually the sounds of his pede-steps is enough for you to turn to look at him with a ghost of a smile. You were an… aggressive Autobot to say the least but Optimus never blames you, you were only ever surrounded by violence when growing— The important part is that you try your best to reject it from taking over you, trying to be better than all you've seen.

It isn't until you hear the shifting noises of Optimus taking a seat next to you that you realize he's here, and realize that your optics are glossy with coolant. Your optics shutter with a sharp ex-vent, a quick effort to get the excess coolant away before turning to face him. But before you could really ask him, he started to speak.

“Earth is beautiful.” He says as his optics take in the sight of the night sky. The town of Jasper is still kilometers away, the stars illuminating the sky— Another bittersweet memory of how Megatronus used to teach you about Cybertron’s stars and moons while laying down on your backs at the open airs of Lithium Flats.

“It is.” Your admission is uncharacterically soft. It makes Optimus smile slightly.

“You've been spending a lot of time up here recently, [name

].” His voice is soothing, concerned. While he sounds nothing like Megatronus, the concern from Optimus is just as warm and inviting.

“...I like star gazing.” Your tone goes quiet, optics averted from his for a moment. But it's enough for Optimus to know that there's more than meets the eye. But for now, he won't prod.

“I understand. Unfortunately I am not very familiar with the stars of this system but they look, as the humans would say ‘breath taking’.” Optimus replies as he looks back into the sky, the two of you sitting there in a somber silence— an understanding silence. You gently lean your helm against his shoulder plating with a sigh, pressing your knees further against your chassis. He says nothing but knows what to do, his servo gently pats your pauldron, providing you more support as you lean against his shoulder.

“...I miss him. Primus, I miss him.”

Your vocalizer breaks slightly, Optimus takes a deep in-vent and sighs.

“As do I, [name

]. As do I.” His tone sounds tired and he is, this war has been chipping away at their sparks and Megatron grows more deranged as the conflict prolongs. But he will not openly display his exhaustion, Optimus had to keep up a strong front.

He sees his old friend, Megatronus within you. Your personality is a spitting image— aggressive but not cruel; kind and empathetic, intolerant to the injustices faced by others and yourself. Optimus looks at you, continuing to provide you comfort, one he can tell you desperately need.

“We have tried, tried our best to bring him back. But,” The Prime speaks almost like it hurts him to say this to you, a gentle night breeze against both your frames. It's chilly, an enjoyable atmosphere if it weren't for the heaviness of the subject.

“He is far gone. Far past saving.”

You know that.

You know that very well.

“I know that but.. that,” The words are stuck in your vocalizer, unable to get them out. “...doesn't mean I like it.”

Optimus knows you're an Autobot and this is proof of it. Autobots value lives, even if it is someone as deranged as Megatron. This doesn't make you any sort of traitor to their faction, even if the others have their doubts when you speak of the young Megatronus with so much reverence or how you call out Ratchet when he gives a biased explanation of the war. But, what concerns Optimus is how you cling onto the ghost of who Megatron once was.

And he fears Megatron may stoop as low as to use it against you.

Optimus continues to understand you and provide you with his warm embrace, the gentleness of his tone never changing.

“I cannot guarantee that it will be better,” He says, almost quietly. “But I want you to remember that your Autobots are always here with you.” The mention of the others makes a small tension in your frame, he can feel the hesitance from your EM field. It makes him look at you curiously.

“They.. don't really think of me as one of them.” You admit what's been on your processor for years. You've always felt like a by-stander, someone they brought in to help. Almost as if you were hired but without any real payment. You cannot connect with them, they weren't raised like you nor do they have any fond experiences with anything associated with the name Megatron.

“Maybe.. I just don't feel like one of them.”

You say, it might be your misinterpretation. Who knows? But it's been like this since you've joined the faction. Optimus looks at you curiously, he's intrigued to understand how your processor works, to see what makes you think this way.

“To me, you are an Autobot.”

“Of course I am to you, Prime but that… isn't quite the same.” You smile a bit at Optimus’ attempt to soothe you as he just blinks.

“You’ve known me since I was about this big.” You raise your servo from your knee and lower it down to show how tall you were as a sparkling. Optimus hums, you had a point there.

Optimus always saw hope in you. You might've been working for Megatron but you were raised by Megatronus. Every single encounter, Prime always tried his best to persuade you into seeing the evil of Megatron’s ways. He knows it would take time, Megatronus was your everything— caretaker, mentor, teacher— father.

But that was Megatronus, not Megatron.

“You were able to reform, redeem yourself. You were able to see that freedom is the right of all sentient beings despite being surrounded by those who think otherwise your entire life.” Optimus says with a serious tone, as if he needs you to understand just how important what you did was— You were proof that Decepticons could be redeemed, that they were not all lost.

You gave Optimus hope.

So to see you so hopeless was unacceptable.

“Yes but that.. that doesn't change what I've done and what I… lost.” Your voice is even quieter than before, as if you're afraid to say it out loud. Remembering what you've done under Megatron, how you helped him. A complicit part of the Decepticon uprising and movement in the early days, you helped propel the movement to please your spiraling father, only to hope it would make him feel somewhat better.

Your love was what blinded you.

But that's not how Prime sees it.

He looks at you confused and curious. Blue optics fixated onto your face as he captures how you seem to sulk with gloom. Optimus doesn't understand why you would think that, you were young and under Megatron’s care— helpless to Megatron’s whims. You would've done what you did one way or another.

“But you are another victim of Megatron.”

You couldn't keep it together anymore when he says what you've been trying to deny, trying to make it seem like it wasn't for so, so very long. You let out quiet sobs as you lean against his servo even harder, your own servos clinging onto it as coolant tears trickle down your faceplates.

Optimus doesn't intervene. The Prime knows you need this, he gently pats your shoulder plating as he allows you to cling onto him like a lifeline, pouring your sorrows and coolant tears onto his plating. He will let you take your sorrows out, he won't say a word unless you need him to.

Optimus had you now. Megatronus was long gone but in his place, you now had Optimus.

Even if it wasn't the same.

bonus:

how you feel when you see Megatron and Optimus fight

[silverrr66]

cybertronians getting so excited to touch you that they rapidly overheat and have to now sit in shame with their servos to themsleves while they wait for their frame to cool off >>>>

[scribblecon]

Okay so this is like some headcanons about cybertronians and smells. Like how they might respond to human reader wearing different perfumes and the natural scents cybertronians may have. No specific bot in mind for any of these they’re just general headcanons. I’m turning into a perfume freak this has been on my mind all day lol.

—

Humans have a weaker sense of smell, so can’t always pick up on the more subtle aspects of cybertronian scents without forming a strong bond with a bot. Cybertronians, meanwhile, can have a very advanced sense of smell with the ability to adjust the sensitivity of their olfactory sensors at will, even temporarily shutting them down when necessary.

Generally speaking, cybertronians have a metallic, ozonic scent to them, with unique hints of other things unique to the individual bot. Some are a bit earthier while others have a strange alien spiciness to their smell that you can’t really place. Usually, their personal scents are more like pheromones than body odour, practically unnoticeable to humans and only noticed by other cybertronians if their olfactories are cranked to the max with some exceptions. Usually in cases of physical intimacy or heightened emotions, their scent will become stronger and then potentially linger for a while after.

Bots find perfume kind of weird at first. Layering scents over your natural odour is a completely foreign concept to them, some are curious as to why you might do such a thing while others dismiss it as frivolous and silly. If you’re clean why do you need to smell like something other than yourself? Humans can get pretty stinky but you don’t smell bad so why do you spray that stuff on your wrists?

Most cybertronians find gourmand perfumes to be particularly strange smelling due to human food and the smells associated being so alien to them. The same goes for fruity and floral notes. A lot of bots find them overwhelming at best, though some find them exotic or mysterious, the way spicy and incense based fragrances can be for humans.

Those with beast modes tend to be more tolerant of sweeter fragrances with fruity or floral notes, their alt modes giving them slightly more organic leanings by default. Even if they aren’t techno-organic, there’s still an instinctual pull to certain organic scents that they can’t really explain.

On the other hand, bots tend to respond well to fragrances that have smoky or ozonic elements to them, as it’s a bit closer to their own scents. Tobacco, incense and boozy notes can also hold an appeal along with certain earthier notes, depending on the cybertronian.

Regardless of their personal preferences, they’re all fascinated by how the same perfume can smell completely different on a person compared to a sample paper. Explaining skin PH levels and the chemical reactions perfume can have upon skin contact is gonna blow their processors. Maybe certain fragrances that are too strange for your bot on their own settle into something more appealing once you’ve been wearing the scent for half an hour and it’s had a chance to develop? Perhaps even become oddly intoxicating for them, the foreign aromas blending with your natural scent to create something new.

Some more possessive bots might be against you wearing perfume if you’re in a relationship. Being intimate means sharing their scent, essentially marking you as their own. Adding extra fragrances on top of their own scent could be interpreted as a form of rejection, trying to smother their claim on you with something else. It’s one thing if you’re wearing perfume for yourself in private, but going out where others might interact with you when your bot’s scent has been covered up? That’s unacceptable. You belong to them, okay?

Others, if they develop an appreciation for fragrance and learn about layering scents, may encourage you to try different lighter fragrances alongside the scent they’ve marked you with. Turn it into something more a combination of the two of you, rather than simply claiming you as their own. Also, by pushing their personal scent to the background, it prevents you from accidentally broadcasting just how intimate your relationship with your bot is.

[smallestapplin]

Rescue bots romance headcanons

Yes, hi, I was dragged into this and now can’t stop thinking about it.

Reader is gn!human. Nothing but fluff here (if you have any less fluffy ideas please throw them at me, I’m desperate for these fuckers)

-

-

Chase

Chase is so dense it’s a miracle he even managed to realize his feelings for you were more than just platonic, the tightness in his chassis every time he spoke to you, the claminess of his servoseach time he felt the urge to grab your hand. Oh yes, you had this police bot wrapped around your finger before he even realized it.

However, he is a very by the books bot, courting will be done properly! He scares you half to death with his siren softy ‘bwoop!’ing, sadly you aren’t the only one who gets spooked by it, as Chief Burns gets a good jump if he happens to be riding in Chase’s alt mode, same with the rest of the family if they are around when he doesn it.

The only ones not confused are the other Rescue bots, Blades and Heatwave do not stop teasing Chase for his little crush on you, making the poor bot more flustered about it than he already is (even if his expression doesn’t change much.)

Blades tries to offer some advice though from all the movies he’s watched, but most of them end up in a sillier fashion than Chase would like. Heatwave attempts to help but he’s really got nothing but support for him. Boulder, luckily, is Chase’s saving grace, using passages from the dating advice books Chase has read to help him.

He had to ask Charlie for help obtaining flowers, chocolate, a plush toy with hearts, and a request for leaving later in the night, which he was delighted to be granted.

The hard part comes with actually asking you out to a picnic under the starry sky under a nice clear night. You try not to laugh at how cute he looks with a barely big enough magnetic bow tie, a radio playing older cheesier love songs, and his gifts in his servos. He has an entire thought out speech for you, from the very instant he realized his feelings to the actions he noticed most about you that made him fall helm over pedes for you, to finally how he wishes to start a pre-conjunx endura courtship with you.

Agreeing and you have the rare chance to see such a sweet smile on his face plate and cheeks twinged blue.

Chase is a very interesting bot, he remembers very VERY little things, the date and exact time you agreed to date him, from your first hug to your first kiss, he has a calendar with all of it marked and timed, your first night in each other’s rooms in some way. Down to the last millisecond.

Protective boyfriend, very protective, it takes his job as a rescue bot very seriously and never hesitates to save people, but when it’s you in danger of about to get hit he becomes an entirely new ferocious bot, adrenaline coursing through him to get to you and take any hit for you, to get you to safety first.

Call him for anything, do you feel mildly uncomfortable around someone? Congrats, he is right next to you and putting himself between you and whoever else. He’s observant to little things, any nervousness you have will instantly be addressed by him, cause he wants you to feel safe and comfortable.

A little awkward on affection, Chase likes holding you in some way but kissing gets him bashful. Handholding, cuddling, hugging, setting you on his shoulder all come to him like second nature with you, but kissing? Please do it, he wants to kiss so badly but is unsure how to approach the subject or bring it up.

-

-

Blades

how YOU don’t know Blades has a crush on you is beyond everyone else, it’s so obvious and just a fact. “Grass is green, the sky is blue, and Blades has a crush on that nerd.” It’s almost adorable but painful to watch. Blades thinks he’s hiding it sooo well, he’s so cool and no one knows! It’s not like he gets nervous around you and starts stuttering, it’s not like his cheeks burn blue with bright energon when you’re around him, it’s not like he squeals happily and bounces in place when you agree to watch a movie with him.

He plans every hang out to a T, always has snacks for you, what movies to watch, blankets Dani and Cody let him use. Please don’t ask him about the movie. He was too busy staring at you with a smitten look on his face plate.

Blades wasn’t a flight mode bot until he got to Earth, so he doesn’t have much control over his wings like one would think, as the rest of the team calls him the sweetspark alarm for the sole reason of they don’t even need to look up from what they are doing to know it’s you, the second they hear fast ‘ptptptptpt’ they know you are at base and Blades spotted you.

Once more with Heatwave’s banter, calling him a sap and to just go for it already he’s getting a processor ache just watching you two.

Anytime you leave base Blades mopes around, sighing, slumping over the couch already missing you and he lets everyone know it. Even his confession came out by accident, he got hurt trying to protect you and when you held his helm so gently everything just came spilling out in rapid succession.

How could you say no when he’s looking at you like you are his world? His joy makes him forget his rotator is damaged, and truthfully you wouldn’t even know how he picks you up and spins you around, cheering.

Blades is a big sweetheart, a very needy one too, he loves your attention and affection so much! If no one can find him then he’s with you, he’s so attached to your hip. Please flirt with him, even the smallest or silliest pick up line has him making a wheezing sound before covering his blushing face plate and giggling, he’s so easy to make swoon.

Please hold him while watching a horror movie, he loves them dearly but he’s such a big chicken he needs to be held and smooched instantly.

He may be fearful but that never stops him from protecting you or getting hurt trying, but please be careful on rescues and missions he will cry if you are hurt. He holds and treats you so tenderly, giving the injured area gentle kisses and apologizing he wasn’t fast enough, and always asks if you need anything. Nurse Blades is at your care to ensure a good recovery.

Blades can be a bit hard on himself and often thinks less of himself, he’s not as strong as Boulder, as smart as Chase, or very confident like Heatwave, sometimes he needs a little boost and some reminding he’s loved and perfect as he is. Cover his helm in kisses, whispering praise and what you love about him inbetween, hold him close, it really makes him feel a thousand times better.

Call him a pretty boy, he will go to you with a skip in his step and love in his eyes. You are not immune to his pet names either, ones he’s picked up from too much tv, from ‘sweetie’ to ‘honey’ to ‘cherry pie’ though the look on his face was priceless when you explained the meaning of the last one, he has called you it once and then never again he was so embarrassed.

-

-

Heatwave

Mr I'll keep all my emotions right here until i die’ is not above finding himself smitten with you and it angers him at first, he is here on a mission nothing more nothing less and yet you throw a wrench into those plans. Your stupidly cute smile, you dumbaft adorable laugh, that stupid stupid happy sparkle you get when you see him, it’s infuriating! No one can tell what’s upsetting him, he avoids you as much as he can and uses the training dummies to get all his frustration out.

It takes him so long to calm down and fully realize this isn’t just some crush that’ll go away, no, he’s in love with you. It doesn’t help you look up at him with a smile and a happy greeting of his name, his name has never sounded better than it does leaving your lips, he could listen to you say it all day.

Once Heatwave realizes these feelings aren’t going away, prepare to have scary dog privileges, as Heatwave is very protective over you and slightly possessive, your safety and health come first and if he catches anyone saying anything that isn’t praise for you it’s on slight. He doesn’t like sharing your time, he will find some way to drag you away from others or at least keep you by his side while you talk to everyone else, even if he doesn’t speak he just grunts but makes sure you are within arms reach.

More ‘bwoop!’s of sirens, cybertronian courting at it’s finest, he likes letting you know he’s there and he always puffs his paneling when it not only works but also gets your attention. Anytime he’s pulling up he’s ’bwoop!’ing anytime you move past him he’s ‘bwoop!’ing his siren softy. His spark melts everytime you chuckle at his calls.

Kade has made ONE offhanded comment about you and it likely ended into the worst argument the team has ever seen the two have, as Heatwave does not take kindly to any bad mouthing of you, whether you are there to see it or not. The leader is a firm believer in ‘keep my sweetspark’s name outta your intake.’

And he hasn’t even asked you out yet, speaking of! When he finally does ask you, it’s late at night, everyone is asleep except you two, neither of you could sleep so you both sit in the backyard, it’s quiet aside from the sounds of the crickets and birds, and you lay so close to him, he can feel your warmth. It’s quiet between you two but it’s not uncomfortable, it’s nice, but for some reason it has him spilling his spark out to you, from his background he’s never told anyone, to how much he truly adores you, loves you, everytime you’re near he can barely think right.

Returning his affection with a smile and a kiss to his shoulder earns you one loving but grumpy bot. Constantly reminding you to take care of yourself or he will do it for you, and that is a promise.

Heatwave isn’t a huge fan of PDA, he prefers to keep your affection private and behind the closed doors of his habsuite, though he doesn’t mind a little hand holding or more subtle touches.

This is now where his slightly possessive nature kicks in, anyone even slightly hinting at flirting with you and he will stand behind you glaring something deadly to whoever you are talking to. Without hesitation he will step between you and others, he always likes keeping you at his side or slightly behind him so he can protect you. His pet names for you mostly have ‘my’ at the start of them.

Banter, I hope you like banter, because he is still a snarky bastard, he can’t help but tease you, calling you short stack (even though he is unfairly tall), or his tone mocking as he calls you ‘your majesty/princess/prince’ he lives for playful roasting each other, cause with you it always ends in someone getting a kiss to shut the other up and he won’t admit it, but he does want that kiss.

His temper can cause a bit of problems, but he has gotten better at working on it! Please, he will tell you he just needs a moment to cool down, and he will go to you when he feels calmer, cause the last thing he wants to do is say something in the heat of the moment and hurt you.

Gifts are interesting, he's more of a quality time and acts of service kinda bot, but you do in fact get gifts, sometimes it's some ancient treasure from pirates that he yoinked, sometimes its a pretty rock from an abandoned island they went to, and other times it’s a little action figure of himself and his team (which you had a good laugh about, but adore so much.)

Primus, help if you are ever injured, he goes into rescue mode but his intake is in worried partner mode and keeps trying to reassure you he is not leaving you anywhere.

Also Primus, help if someone makes you uncomfortable, he is not above catching a charge, much to the dismay of Chase.

[sparkriddledfever]

"So, why do humans wear rings on their fourth finger?"

"To tell others we're married. There's was a belief that our fourth finger is connected to the soul or rather to our heart. Not accurate really. Though, people back then believed that there was a vein called the 'vein of love' that was connected to the heart. As time went by, it was disproved, we just never changed it and kept it going."

"Interesting...do you want to-"

"Are you asking me to marry or rather conjunxed you?"

"...yes."

"Pfft, let's hope I can find you a ring too."

[woradat]

Hide 'n Seek

SUMMARY - He steps forward, you step back. He's the nobleman and you're the working class. He's making your life miserable... in a good way possible

THEME - class divide, light drama, fluff, pre-war

PAIRING - mirage x reader

.

.

You kept your head bowed low, struggling to carry the unwieldy crate of documents up the sweeping spiral staircase of the Council’s main hall. The polished metal of the railings bit into your fingers with a cold, slick chill, numbing them to the point of pain — but you uttered no complaint. Work in silence, finish without a fuss — that was the unspoken law for survival in this glittering metropolis, where the highborn treated you not as a person but as an elegant piece of furnishing, meant to blend into the background and flatter their superiority

“Careful there" came a voice nearby — smooth, low, and carrying a distinct warmth, as if the speaker found the situation quietly amusing

Startled, you jerked your head up, the crate teetering dangerously in your grasp — and nearly dropped the whole thing then and there

He stood before you, an embodiment of aristocratic perfection. His silver-blue plating gleamed under the holographic lights, each line and joint polished to an almost absurd degree. His posture was the very picture of noble training: straight-backed, poised, exuding the effortless grace of someone born to a higher station. Not a single scratch marred his surface; even the smallest accessories — gleaming trimmings, intricate panel upgrades — whispered of opulence that only the absurdly wealthy could afford.

And, to your horror, he was looking at you — not with disdain, but with an idle sort of curiosity and a mischievous glint in his optics

“Pardon me, your highness" you blurted hastily, bowing with a speed born of panic "I did not intend to obstruct your path"

"Don't call me that" Mirage said with an easy chuckle, stepping forward and taking the crate from your hands without a hint of effort “Name’s Mirage. Just call me that. No one's going to throw you into a jail for it, I promise"

You stood rooted to the spot, staring in disbelief as he — he — casually hoisted the crate as if it weighed nothing

What in Primus’ name was he doing?

"But... that's against protocol" you managed to stammer, every nerve in your frame straining with the need to flee.

Him helping you, speaking to you like an equal, telling you to call him by name without a title — the Council and the caste systems would have a collective meltdown if they knew

Mirage only laughed, a light, melodic sound that was almost musical — the kind of laugh that, by all rights, only bots with far too much wealth and free time should be able to perfect

"Protocols are made to be broken" he said, winking with a roguish air, before turning on his heel and ascending the staircase, carrying your burden as though it was the most natural thing in the world

Helplessly, you hurried after him, trying to shrink yourself into invisibility, heart pounding wildly against your chest.

You could feel every gaze in the hall — watching, judging and you knew, beyond any shadow of doubt, that you were committing social suicide by merely existing within Mirage's orbit

You should not be near him

You should not even be seen near him

And yet... here you were

—

After that fateful encounter, fate — or perhaps cruel humor — seemed to conspire against you

No matter how often you transferred departments, how many obscure corners of the city you tried to vanish into, Mirage always found you. Whether you were hastily patching a broken scanner behind a warehouse or sneaking a quick recharge break in a deserted hallway, there he would be — appearing as if summoned by sheer mischief

He never did anything overt — a casual greeting, a few teasing words, a glinting smile — and then he would vanish again like a dream. But each time, it became harder to pretend you hadn't seen him, harder to ignore the way your spark seemed determined to leap into your throat at the mere sight of him

"Not again" you whispered under your breath, as a flash of blue armor slipped into the narrow alleyway beside the data archive

Mirage appeared without a care in the world, hands tucked behind his back like he was out for a leisurely stroll through a pleasure garden

"Why do you always look like you've seen a ghost every time you see me?" he asked, amusement dancing in his voice

"I am simply... unused to being addressed by nobility, uh ..sir" you replied stiffly, desperately averting your gaze

Maybe, if you acted disinterested enough, he'd grow bored of his little game and leave you in peace — without you having to risk a very impolite rebuke

What did he want from you?

"You should start getting used to it," Mirage said smoothly, casually leaning back against the wall with all the lazy grace of a mech who had never in his life worried about the consequences of anything "Because I don't intend to stop anytime soon"

You clenched your jaw and pretended to focus on sorting the parts in your hands, even as your spark hammered against your chestplate in betrayal

Why?

He had no reason to bother with you — someone so far beneath his world it wasn’t even worth mentioning. He should be in some glittering salon, sipping rare energon vintages, reading volumes of incomprehensible philosophy, or attending glamorous gatherings with other bots of equally ridiculous status

Instead... he was here

Haunting you

Probably for no better reason than boredom

Tormenting you might simply be his idea of a charming afternoon pastime

"You know" Mirage said lightly, tilting his head as though musing aloud, "I really think the world would be a better place without all these ridiculous class barriers and stiff old protocols"

You stared at him, mouth slightly agape

"Easy for you to say" you muttered under your breath — and immediately froze, horrified at yourself

You braced for fury, for the cold rebuke you knew was inevitable when one of the highborn was challenged — even slightly.

In your world, even daring to suggest such a thing would see you branded a danger to society. If they could ration air based on status, you were certain they would

But Mirage only laughed — a real laugh this time, rich and easy, and smiled wider

"Fair point" he said with a shrug, entirely unbothered "But I wasn’t joking"

He turned to you fully, his gaze suddenly piercing and serious in a way that made you instinctively look away, heart hammering harder still

"I just want to know you" he said simply

"Not as a worker. Not as someone who has to bow and scrape just.. you"

You opened your mouth, instinctively ready to refuse, to retreat back into the safe walls of caution and habit — but his voice, warm and earnest, slipped through those walls far too easily

You let out a shaky breath and almost against your own better judgment, gave the smallest nod

For the first time in longer than you could remember — You weren't just surviving

You were living

—

You told yourself — with the solemnity of a mech signing a lifetime contract to a junkyard — that today, today, you would, under no circumstance whatsoever, allow yourself to encounter him

Mirage

The walking, talking embodiment of trouble dressed in gleaming blue and silver armor, who, despite all logic and reason, appeared to have developed a sixth sense solely for locating your sorry existence in the crowded, clanking labyrinth that was Cybertron

You didn’t hate him. No, Primus help you, you hated yourself more — hated the way your spark fizzled and flared like a faulty energon line whenever he so much as smirked in your direction. It was mortifying. Absolutely tragic. Worse, you knew — deep down where the pitiful remains of your self-preservation instincts still lingered — that nothing, absolutely nothing that began with a smile like that could possibly end anywhere other than with you flat on your face, dignity shattered into a thousand unrecognizable pieces

Class differences, social stratifications, political entanglements — pick your poison. They were all stacked against you like a towering, rickety pile of scrap just waiting for the lightest touch to come crashing down

And so, with all the determination of a low-ranking mechanic who knew full well that the universe hated them on a deeply personal level, you embarked on your noble quest: avoid Mirage at all costs

And for the first fifteen minutes of the day, you thought — naively, laughably — that you had succeeded

Until—

“There you are” came that insufferably cheerful voice, so close to your audials that you nearly threw the crate you were carrying straight into the stratosphere

You spun around, crate wobbling precariously, mouth already working faster than your processor

“B-boss! I swear I wasn’t slacking! I was just — I was just relocating essential supplies!” you barked out, almost impressively pathetic

Mirage, because he was a menace to polite society and the concept of personal space in general, simply leaned against the nearest wall with the relaxed grace of someone who had never once been told "no" in his entire spark-drifting life, one eyebrow raised in lazy amusement

“Boss?” he repeated, voice so dripping with amusement it could've shorted out a lesser mech's systems “That’s a new one. Should I start carrying a clipboard around? Maybe a whistle?”

You stared at him, horrified by the mental image alone

“That would be... extremely inappropriate” you managed to choke out, edging back toward your workbench like he was a wild animal that might pounce at any moment

Mirage, undeterred as ever, merely chuckled — a sound so maddeningly warm you had to physically restrain yourself from launching the crate at his stupidly handsome face

“Inappropriate?” he echoed innocently “I’ll have you know, inappropriate is my middle name”

(You strongly suspected that it actually was)

“Besides" he added, leaning in with the infuriating confidence of a mech who had clearly decided you were going to be part of his daily entertainment schedule whether you liked it or not "you’re way cuter when you’re flustered"

You made a noise — something between a strangled protest and a dying servo squeal — and turned back to your work with the kind of frantic intensity normally reserved for bomb defusal units

But, of course, Mirage wasn't done

“Tell you what" he said, tapping your crate lightly with a single finger "next time you want to see me, just flash your headlights twice”

You froze

Very, very slowly, you turned to glare at him

“I do not have external headlights” you said, with the precise, strangled dignity of someone who had been forced to explain far too many obvious facts today already

Mirage simply winked “Then just smile at me instead. I’ll take it as a beacon of hope”

And with that — the absolute madmech — he strolled off, whistling a tune that no doubt signaled the impending collapse of your carefully ordered existence

—

The next day, armed with a new plan — namely, avoiding him harder — you managed to dodge Mirage’s very existence for a record-shattering twenty minutes

You were elbow-deep in a tangled mess of scanner circuits when you heard the unmistakable sound of someone tossing a wrench in your general direction

You caught it — barely — without so much as looking up

“You’re welcome, best mechanic in the city” came Mirage’s oh-so-innocent voice

You exhaled through your vents, counted to five (because ten would have been excessive), and said without looking at him:

“Flattery will get you nowhere”

“Who’s flattering?” Mirage said, affronted. “I’m being brutally honest. I’ve never seen anyone make a scanner explode into confetti quite like you did yesterday”

You bit back a pained groan

(He wasn't even wrong. The poor scanner had gone up like a cheap fireworks display)

“Thank you” you muttered through gritted teeth, knowing full well that any further conversation would only dig you deeper into whatever pit Mirage was determined to drag you into

—

It became a pattern after that

No matter how many corners you ducked behind, how many crates you hid behind, how many cleverly-worded maintenance logs you buried yourself under — Mirage always, always found you

Sometimes with absurd excuses: "I got lost. Again. Can you believe it? I swear this place moves when I'm not looking"

Sometimes without any excuses at all (He would simply sit nearby, sipping Energon, watching you work with infuriating patience)

And slowly — painfully, inevitably — you realized something terrible

You didn't... entirely hate it

Worse: sometimes, on the rare occasions when he was just quiet, no teasing, no flirting — just there — you almost felt...

Safe?

—

Climbing the social ranks on Cybertron was never meant for bot like you

Not the sleek-forged, high-born, polished frame types. No, you came from the grit — the grind of factory belts, of oil-stained servos and rationed energon. Every title you earned, every reluctant nod of respect, had to be torn from the rusted machinery of a society that only recognized one kind of worth: the kind you weren't born with. It wasn’t enough to be competent. You had to be exceptional. Tireless. Unbreakable. Just to stand where others were placed the moment they came online

And yet, for all the strength it took to keep climbing — to stay standing, it took even more effort to keep one mech out of your carefully guarded life

Mirage

Primus help you, Mirage

Charming, relentless, and so very, very noble-born. He was everything you’d spent your life resenting — wrapped in a frame that moved with the ease of someone who had never been told no. His smile could disarm a whole battalion, and his words — so light, so infuriatingly sincere — chipped away at you like waves carving stone

You tried. YOU TRIED

You met every attempt with curt professionalism, your tone cold and clipped like a datapad report. You gave him silence when he joked, distance when he lingered. You stacked walls made of protocol and hard-earned cynicism, taller with every shift

But Mirage remained... Mirage

Bright and shameless and full of audacious warmth. He had that annoying kind of optimism that refused to be snuffed out — not even by your glares, your silences, your stubborn refusal to let him in and worst of all, he never gave up

Never walked away

Not even when it would’ve been easier

One evening, after a long shift, you were behind the Senate warehouse — sorting crates under the fading glow of overhead lights, trying to shake off exhaustion that lived deeper than your fuel lines — when you turned around... and there he was

Perched atop a stack of cargo, lounging like he owned the place. Legs swinging lazily over the edge, posture relaxed and catlike, optics glittering with amusement

"Tired?" he asked, voice as casual as if he hadn’t been stalking your downtime for weeks

"No" you replied flatly, your tone sharp as unsharpened steel — hoping that would be enough to send him off into the shadows he came from

Of course, it wasn’t

"Then take it anyway" he said with a smile, tossing an Energon cube toward you without warning

You caught it out of instinct — like everything else around Mirage, you couldn’t help reacting

Still tense, still wary, you sipped the energon in silence. It was good. Frustratingly so

While you drank, he sprawled across the crates like a cat sunning itself, utterly unbothered by your attempts to ignore him. The silence between you shifted — softened — despite your best efforts to keep it cold

"You know" he murmured, his gaze drifting upward toward the dust-dim ceiling, "I like it when you frown"

You nearly choked

"I.. I do not frown!" you snapped, scandalized and caught completely off guard

He chuckled — a low, rich sound that felt warm in your chest even as you forced yourself to look away. You hated how easily he got under your plating

"You do" he insisted, still grinning "When you frown, you look like you're ready to take on the whole world with your bare servos"

A pause "I think it’s... kind of adorable"

And just like that — you froze

No one had ever said anything like that to you before. No one had dared

Not in admiration. Not in affection. And certainly not with that kind of raw, unguarded honesty

Most mechs either looked through you or down at you. You were a tool, a worker, a statistic that climbed too high too fast. You were used to being tolerated, not seen. Feared, perhaps. Respected, at best. But never... never cherished

Yet Mirage — that idiot, brilliant, impossible mech. he wasn’t looking at your rank or your origin. He wasn’t reading you like a file or sizing you up like a rival. He looked at you and saw someone worth smiling at. Someone worth knowing

And in that fragile, stolen moment between the crates and the neon glow — you let yourself believe it

Just a little

Just for now

.

.

After that day, you found yourself noticing things

The way you laughed — genuinely — when Mirage told another ridiculous story. The way you teased him back, lightly, without fear of being deemed "insubordinate" The way you no longer felt you had to force your smiles around him

Maybe — maybe this was what it felt like to be comfortable with someone

.

.

One quiet night, beneath the heavy hush of the Cybertronian sky, you sat beside Mirage atop the skeletal remains of an old, forgotten tower — a lonely sentinel that had long outlived its purpose. The wind was cool, brushing over your plating with a softness that almost felt like memory. Far below, the city lights flickered like a thousand distant stars, blurred by distance and time, each one a life, a choice, a consequence

Mirage turned his helm toward you, the usual lightness in his optics dimmed to something gentler — something almost reverent. When he spoke, his voice didn’t carry its usual bravado or teasing lilt. It was soft. Careful. As though he were afraid the wrong tone might shatter whatever fragile thing existed between you in that moment

"Have you ever wondered" he began, his words drifting like stardust into the silence between you "if we weren’t born into all... this — the funtionist, the factions, the names they gave us before we ever had the chance to decide who we really were. what would you choose?"

For a moment, the question didn’t seem real. You just stared out at the lights, blinking slowly, unsure whether to laugh or fall apart

"I don't know" you murmured, the admission raw and thin, carried away almost entirely by the wind. It felt like standing at the edge of something terrifying and vast

But Mirage... Mirage just smiled. Not his usual cocky smirk, not a half-formed grin made for deflection or show. This was different. This was warm, unguarded, and heartbreakingly genuine — like he wasn’t afraid of being seen, not by you

"I know what I’d choose" he said, so simply, like it was the easiest truth he’d ever spoken "I’d choose this — sitting right here, next to you"

You turned to face him before you could stop yourself, and there it was — the quiet depth in his optics, the kind of sincerity that made your spark twist in your chassis

No teasing, fleeting amusement, calculated charm

Just truth

"Hey" he said again, softer this time — almost like a secret

"If..." he hesitated, his vents drawing in a long, shaky intake, "if one day... the world stops telling you you’re not good enough – if it stops trying to fit you into a mold you never agreed to, would you walk beside me?"

It felt, in that instant, like the universe paused as though the stars themselves held their breath to hear your answer

You wanted to say no. You truly did. Not because you didn’t want him. Primus, you did but because yes felt like a risk too big to survive. Saying yes meant opening a part of yourself you'd spent a lifetime protecting. It meant vulnerability. It meant hope

And yet, when you looked at him, really looked at him, you saw something there — something you’d never dared to believe you deserved

He wasn't asking you to fix yourself. He wasn’t asking you to be someone else. He was asking you to believe — just for a moment — that maybe, just maybe, you were already enough

You swallowed, your voice catching in your throat

"...If that day comes — I’ll think about it" you whispered, and the words felt like a promise. A small one. But a promise all the same

For a heartbeat, Mirage was still — and then his face lit up in the kind of smile that felt like sunlight breaking through centuries of ash

"Guess I better start changing the world a little faster, then," he said, his laugh bright and unburdened, ringing out across the tower like music. And something inside you — something long locked away — stirred. Warmth curled around your spark like the first rays of dawn

And for the first time in a long, long while...

You laughed too

Not because you were supposed to. Not because it was expected of you.

But because in that single, perfect moment — you felt like maybe, just maybe, you were allowed to

And as the stars above flickered quietly in witness, you knew:

The world might not be ready. The walls between you might still stand tall and immovable — class, function, expectation — all of it still loomed like a shadow over your lives

But in the space between heartbeats, something had shifted

You had opened a door to him

more than that — you’d let him see it and for the first time in cycles, you allowed yourself something dangerous. Something terrifying

Hope

That somewhere, beyond the ruins of everything you’d been taught to believe – There might be a place in this world where you both belonged

Together

[savvymantis]

Heyo I’m so stupidly excited someone writes for the rescuebots. Do you have any headcanons of the four main bots being smitten with a human s/o? Just before dating, like their inner thoughts and acts to try and make it subtle or get it across?(you can ignore this if you wish, I love your writing either way!)

Oh So Smitten

Chase:

Chase is soft for you, but it can be hard to see sometimes. He doesn't act too different around you, but there's an obvious need to be around you that he carries whenever you're near. He lingers near you, minding his business but ready to be your helper should there be anything you need. And if that thing is just a conversation? He has many conversation starters saved up for such an occasion.

It needs to be said that while Chase doesn't act too different around you, he does act different around others. Both his team and Charlie have to hear about you near constantly. Chase has a lot memorized, trying his best to parse through his own feelings and what your own might be. He also wants to try and woo you, if possible, so he discusses his plans at length with his other, taking them as serious as a rescue.

Heatwave gets sick of it quick, but Boulder and Blades find it romantic enough that they do their best to keep up with Chase's intricate plans to show himself as a good partner for you. They even offer their own ideas for gifts to give you, but be careful. Chase cannot cook. He can, however, suss out the perfect gift based on everything you have ever said. Just don't be too put off by what he says as he gives them to you; he's still practicing with Blades on making his compliments more flattering instead of sounding like he's studying you like a bug.

Heatwave:

Heatwave is smitten, but you would never know. If you never hung out around him, that is. Heatwave likes to think he's got a good lid on his innermost emotions, but it's not hard to see how he relaxes whenever you're around. His voice softens, his posture slouches, and he smiles far more than he does whenever you're away. It's easy to notice, if you know what you're looking for. Everyone else has noticed, at least.

Given Heatwave's tendency to be, well, grumpy, it's easy to tease him about his crush. And tease his team does. Boulder coos and swoons over how in love with you Heatwave is, while Blades talks on about spring weddings and saying yes to dresses. Chase is more practical, showing off his relationship and dating self help books, trying to get Heatwave to do what they suggest. Heatwave doesn't, instead shouting at his fellow bots until they scurry off snickering.

What they don't see is his own plans, written down on a datapad he keeps on hand constantly. They're not very extensive or detailed, just small notes on things you like or activities you'd might enjoy. Heatwave is confident enough in himself to be okay without every detail being written down, and he knows you'll have fun together, whatever happens.

Boulder:

Boulder is the most laid back of all the other bots, and thus he's the only one that is really hard to guess where his feelings lie with you. He's adoring and sweet to everyone, always interested and curious of humanity. It takes the family and even the other Rescue Bots a while to realize his interest in you is more than just platonic, and that's only after they discover carefully drawn sketches of your profile surrounded by hearts in his habisuite.

Any teasing is to no avail, for Boulder isn't ashamed of his feelings. He understands that they're as natural as can be, and you're lovely, so why would he be ashamed? Teasing thus turns into encouragement to confess, and it's there where Boulder hesitates. While he's assured of his own feelings, yours are less known, and it's not confirmed you'd date a bot, much less him. Luckily, his team is nosy helpful, and figure out that you wouldn't mind a big, strong, handsome bot as a partner

With more confidence in his chances with you, Boulder steps up his game. He brings you flowers and drawings of the natural wildlife around the island, which eventually evolves into those sketches of you being shyly passed along whenever you're hanging out alone together. He compliments you too, so sweet that it makes you blush, which he wants to capture on canvas one day. If you're agreeable.

Blades:

Blades is the most obvious about his crush, which surprises no one. He's bashful and chatty at the same time, wanting to talk to you about everything, but also so shy that his face plate seems permanently stained blue. His rotors flutter a lot too, sometimes taking his pedes right off the ground when you make him flustered or excited. It's extremely obvious, but also extremely cute, so you don't mind.

It's easy to tease Blades about his crush, since he frantically denies it like you can hear him from across the island. Still, since he's a little hopeless and a little too reliant on movie tropes, the team does their best to help him along. And that goes about as well as you would expect, so not very well. While everything seems to fall apart, their attempts at nonchalant dates are nonetheless very fun for you, especially when they end with you in Blades' arms as he flees some danger.

Movie nights are a must, but also a way for you to add you own romantic opinions for Blades to hear. He points out courting rituals to you, eager to hear your ideas, and keeps them in mind as he grows more determined to woo you. Each date he tries to casually spring on you gets better and better, until you're both practically dating without anyone even saying anything.

[fanged-fanfics]

What would it be like if Mirage fell in love with a female bot who is a former Decepticon?

☆ Mists Of The Past — Mirage x Ex-Decepticon!Fem Reader HCs ☆

Genre: Fluff || she/her pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

A/N: Since a generation wasn't specified I picked one at random, I hope that's okay!

──────.𖥔 ݁ ˖˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ──────

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Mirage didn't know what to think of you at first. He, along with the other Autobots, had been instilled with a mentality to never trust a Decepticon since the beginning of this great war. He didn't often approach you, and was suspicious of your every move

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Very gradually, he began noticing things about you that other mechs didn't seem to pick up on. How you were trying to help wherever you could, how you seemed upset when dismissed by the others, how you were frequently doing energon intakes alone. He felt a twinge of guilt in his spark. He knew what it felt like to be looked over and Decepticon or not, it was never pleasant

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He came up to you one day when you were trying to find some energon, offering a cube of his own so you could refuel. To your surprise, he sat beside you, nervously asking about your old job

ᯓᡣ𐭩 It became routine for you two. Refuel together, and share anecdotes of what it was like to work for each Faction. Mirage occasionally cracked a joke here or there to break the tension. He came to find that he loved the sound of your laughter

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He'd make jokes about which Decepticons he thinks he could take on, and you'd give him insider knowledge on if it was actually possible. As you got closer, Mirage began having these little conversations with you all the time

ᯓᡣ𐭩 You were surprised when he defended you against one of the backhanded and defensive comments from an Autobot. He'd immediately slid in front of you, telling the mech to back down and not cause any trouble. He then gave you a grin and took your arm to lead you away from them

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Mirage began keeping a little tally of each time you helped him out, set on returning the favor whenever he could. Remember that one time you stopped a rock from landing on his helm? No? Well he does, and he'll be sure to make it up to you. His processor is already made up, you're getting a gift soon

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Whenever you needed someone to talk to, Mirage was always willing to lend an audial. He felt guilty knowing how he used to think about you, so he'd be extra sure to comfort you whenever you were concerned about your past

[demiisdead]

i love them sm.

(Chat i just realized the both have the zame VA 😭)

[jinuaei]

Straight up Transformers x reader rambles and they're probably OOC AF but this is fiction let me live. Also I haven't properly read MTMTE/LL comics, if this is wrong and you want to talk shit, ehhhh you'll live.

I think I wrote this in a way that can be read as Cybertronian reader or Human reader.

I want to whore out Sentinel Prime, tie him up, rail him, just treat him like the slut he is. He wants power? He will find it under you, under your gaze as he lays there to serve you. He will see that you are the one with power within the room that you both occupy, even his size or status is nothing compared to the control that your mere presence has over him.

UGH COCKY LITTLE SHIT SENTINEL PRIME BECOMING A SUBMISSIVE MESS WHEN YOU ARE THERE. I know he'd rather die than to be publicly seen as a SIMP but goddamnit it would be funny to think that one minute Sentinel is passive aggressively insulting someone and the next thing you know he's kneeling in front of you cooing at you, asking how you are and if you want him to grab you refreshments. Him and Starscream. IDGAF if it's ooc I want them literally on their KNEES begging to serve you because just you being happy is enough for them. Or is that more of a Tarn thing?

MMMmm Tarn, the obsessed, the devoted. Perhaps his obsession with the Decepticon cause has shifted towards you and he finds himself listening to more and more of your commands(Its really just you talking about anything) compared to Megatrons original objective and making it as something that Decepticons and DJD should follow. Your word becomes law and you find yourself being followed and revered by this huge purple bot who's body count is in the hundreds, probably even more. Yet you seem to find yourself relaxed under his watchful optic as you know he wouldn't do anything to harm you. The whole DJD becomes your entourage every time you visit some new planet or even just somewhere in Cybertron or something.

When you find yourself unable to sleep, you'll hear a haunting voice echoing through the vents. You might think of it as a ghost, but don't worry! It's just Tarn who knows about your bad sleep schedule and is trying to sing you a lullaby to help you sleep. Maybe just invite him into your habsuite next time, it's probably better than being scared shitless at the deep ass voice singing a ballad.

Though he has the voice that can kill bots with his words, he still finds himself at the mercy of yours. His spark quivers when you speak and every word shoots through him like a laser. He has engraved Megatron's manifesto within his spark and processor, yet slowly but surely, it's getting replaced by yours. Each sentences he has memorized so dearly is now gone, word by word, letter by letter, the whole manifesto becomes redundant, now replaced with your smiles, your interests, your affection... Within such a short time, his objective of hunting down Decepticon traitors has now changed into keeping you happy, even at the expense of other bots.

Additionally, I don't remember if it was .1 percenters or Outliers that are known to be born obsessive, but any bot under that can technically be canonical yanderes. Side eyeing Overlord that plumpy lips little shit.

[therobotsarestuckinmyhead]

Hi! Could you write a Transformers Prime headcanon featuring Optimus, Ratchet, Wheeljack, and Arcee, with a reader (male or female) who resembles Jinx from Arcane? In the past, the reader was once part of the Decepticons—lured in by their propaganda but later disillusioned. Eventually, they left after growing tired of Megatron’s mistreatment and Starscream’s schemes. Like Jinx, the reader unintentionally caused the deaths of their own friends and was 'abandoned' by the one they loved most

♡|☆ [TFP] "JINXED" BOTS w/ someone similar to Jinx from Arcane

im begginf you guys pls mention platonic or romantic otherwise im going to burst a fuse here. i'm taking this in a more romantic direction cause you haven't mentioned anything. BUT SHE'S MY FAVORITE ARCANE CHARACTER THOUGH EHHEHE also Soundwave is your Silico in this

scenario: disillusioned from your irrational hatred of the Autobots, you live to make amends and swear to assist their Cause while facing your own demons.

including: Optimus, Ratchet, Wheeljack & Arcee

warning: reader has episodes and panic attacks. this is based off of Jinx. readers chose the gender because i write in second person.

Optimus:

— Optimus has tried his hardest to dissuade you from the Decepticon Cause, it was always in his nature to try talking it out first. He remembers when he first saw you in the battlefield, he wasn't sure why you were here. You seemed displeased with Megatron and fed-up with Starscream... were you like Dreadwing? A bot who truly believed in what the Decepticons once stood for? He isn't sure.

— Because you were a nightmare to deal with on the battlefield. Quick and deadly, if one his soldiers had their optics off of you a moment, they were done for. You fought with the exact same rage & hate Megatron fought with, its proof that you feel something— and you may not be as arrogant as Megatron, hence why he thought he could make you see the truth behind the Decepticons and how it serves as nothing more than a guise for Megatron to lord over Cybertron.

— One day, you just... surrender and say that you want to join the Autobots. He's surprised but its not an unwelcome surprise, he had the warmest smile flashing in your direction at your change of spark and he knows you still have a long way to go but he's more than willing to help you through every step of it; if you need his help, that is.

— "Why do you wish to join the Autobots?" He would ask and there's always that pause from you, like you were looking back at everything you've done. "I realized the Decepticons were playing all its followers like a fiddle. So why play with 'em anymore?" There isn't anger in your tone but an obvious mask of resignation & a shrug, like it didn't matter anymore. He suspects there's a deeper reason behind it. Like everyone bot, you too must have a story.

— He notices how you seem hesitant to come to battle sometimes, or how you... talk to yourself like you're seeing something he can't and it's confusing him. He can see how your servos dig into your helm while you look like you might combust, venting hard and optics blown wide. Optimus will confront you about it. Perhaps you might be unwell?

— "Are you okay, soldier?" He keeps it simple and clear yet his tone is full of concern, its etched across his faceplates as well that he can see something is wrong. He's got a small frown and everything.

— Seeing the boss bot come up to you like that with so much care and concern is going to once again, makes you wonder why you were so stupid enough to fall for all that dumb Decepticon propaganda. Life might've not been easy on the streets of Kaon and the rampant corruption of the law didn't make it easier— its why you became a Decepticon. The establishment, the council, the law; it was all rotten to the core. But now, really, were the Decepticons any different? Optimus Prime was a wake up call slapped right into your face.

— You're look at him and proccess what he just asked you as you're lost in your thoughts but the moment you snap back to reality, you're quick to deny his assistance and just turn your back on him with an almost quiet "I'm fine". It does upset him, his frown deepens and he gets more concerned.

— He just hopes you open up to him or anymore for that matter, whatever it may be... Optimus does not want you to suffer alone. You may avoid it but it won't stop Optimus from reminding you to take care of yourself and be careful out on the field.

— Speaking of the field, your recklessness is making him somewhat... agitated. He is concerned but somehow you're surviving. Optimus is always giving you 'the talk' (telling you to be considerate of your own well-being).

Ratchet:

— Oh, he does not like you one bit... initially at least. When Optimus first announced that you were reformed, Ratchet didn't believe it. You? The psychotic bomber? Reformed? The old medic kept an optic on you ALWAYS. Primus knows if you were crazy enough to be a suicide bomber!

— He's trying his best not to make that obvious but unfortunately, his glare is a lot easier for you to pick up on given you'd been spending your time alongside treacherous psychos who'd probably offline you for an energon-shake back when you were a Decepticon. So you're quick to point out to him, right at it face about how he doesn't trust you.

— Your audacity catches him off-guard but he knows he shouldn't be surprised, Decepticons aren't really known for their manners and as far as he's concerned, you've probably still got some 'Con in you.

— When Optimus says that you might be unwell, he isn't sure what to make of it. Given how you don't really like him and he doesn't really like you either, its difficult to start up a conversation for the old medic. But you're quick to tease him and Ratchet does not like being teased. He is not one for banter, especially from you.

— But you're practically a professional ragebaiter. Ratchet is helpless when it comes to responding to one of your quips against him. It's out of line to talk to the CMO like that! Besides, you don't want to make enemies with your medic, that's like being sworn enemies with your heart surgeon...

— And you're still extremely reckless when it comes to combat so he's spending a lot of time he wishes he didn't have to on repairing you after each fight. He notices how you sit out certain battles and it confuses him but he's beginning to pick up that it might have something to do with Soundwave because everytime he's mentioned, you go rigid and nothing is fun and games anymore.

— At some point, the banter becomes a part of Ratchet's day-to-day life and he wishes he did not get used to it but he did while you've got a slag-eating grin on your face.

— The first time he opened you systems up, he was appalled to see the utter state of your internals. He may not like you a whole lot yet but he still has a duty as a medic! So Ratchet proceeded to scold the ever loving spark out of you about proper frame maintenance and how neglecting your frame is bad.

— Optimus discusses with Ratchet about your 'episodes' and how it really concerns him. Ratchet takes the matter seriously and decides maybe he's been too hard on you. The war was never kind. Of course you'd be affected by it, whether you're a Decepticon or not.

— Soon enough, he's the one easing you through your panic attacks. His servo on your back attempting to soothe you, his voice is softer than it usually is. Ratchet is understanding, the moment he senses that you're going to have another episode, he's bringing you somewhere private to calm you down and not overwhelm you.

— On Earth, you're really helpful when it comes to ground-bridge work. You're definitely an amazing engineer and he can see why the Decepticons kept you around despite all the attitude.

— He doesn't want to admit it but he's slowly warming up to you and its infectious. Your sadistically gleeful smile whenever he's lost it at you has become strangely charming in a way. May Primus save him from this punishment.

Wheeljack:

— Since he was in his spaceship, looking out at the cosmos and trying to locate more Wreckers, he's pretty much missed out on your character arc. So when he saw you with the Autobots for the first time, he made a face and his optics went wide there for a moment. His servos instinctively twitched to reach out for his dual blades. But then Bulkhead explained what was going on. The big guy was pretty concerned about having you onboard as well but Bulkhead knows that they need all the help they can get.

— He doesn't have the greatest relationship with you initially given you are quite literally one of the most deadliest Decepticon demolitions bot anyone could ever run into and you'd given the Wreckers a run for their money in the past with assistance from your own cronies. You're trying to get along with him only because he has a functioning spaceship.

— One time, he comes to the Autobase just to hang around with Bulkhead. Surprisingly, you offer to help him out with the Jackhammer and he hesitantly agrees but makes sure to appear confident about it. And he's happy to say that he's got no regrets because sparkdamn, you really know your mechanics. You're making his ship better with each modification! He's watching you in awe as you work.

— You've officially caught his attention and now he's a lot more invested in you. He's talking a lot more to you, warming up to you in a way which is not very typical of him. Despite his cool demeanor, he's a reserved and closed off personality. He just has a good sense of humour and charisma to make up for it.

— At some point, you take interest in his bombs. Now, he shouldn't be hesitant to let you see them and their workings because you're a good guy now. You're an Autobot. But that Wrecker in him is still sort of... skeptical about handing over an explosive device to you. You especially. However, he's grown to trust you.

— Once again, not left disappointed. You've clearly grown a lot as an Autobot because now, your bombs no longer devastate entire city-blocks like they used back when you were a Decepticon. Its tamer but tamer in the sense that its good for doing heavy damage on any bot in a 75 meter radius and not the typical decimating entire buildings.

— He's really enjoying your personality. The humour sarcastic cynicism is something he actually likes. You're honest about it and it contrasts his own more teasing nature in a way. You're laid-back in a way which makes him relieved because the last the Autobots need is another stick-in-the-mud.

— Not to mention, you've got some juicy information about Decepticon High-Command for him. Starscream's more secretive schemes, Megatron's covered-up failures... there is so much to go off on. But you never really bring up anything about Soundwave, its like you zone out whenever he's mentioned. Wheeljack notes it too but he doesn't want to really ask, yet.

— Wheeljack typically hates rules, just as much as you do so he's falling slow but hard. At some point, he even considers asking if you wanna be with him in at the Jackhammer or stay back at the Autobase... though, he isn't sure if you'd want to. Doesn't mean he can't try and shoot his shot though. Until then, expect a few more visits from the mech.

— He just knows you would've made a damn good Wrecker.

Arcee:

— When she first walked out of that spacebridge with Cliffjumper and managed to find the remaining Autobots, she really didn't think much of you. Mostly because she's never had to deal with you back when you were a Decepticon.

— So she treats you like she would any other Autobot initially. No distrust, no skepticism. Of course, she's naturally just cold & closed-off so you don't really feel like you're missing out on anything. The two of you get along with each other very well.

— Her dry humor is making you snort, she's sarcastic, in a more flat manner than cynical or teasing. Arcee would be lying if she said she didn't like it when you have a smile from one of her witty comebacks or snaps.

— Hence why when Cliffjumper was killed by Starscream, you're one of the only bots she's opening up to and you're really not the one to give any sort of advice about moving on... given you joined the Decepticons right before the whole... accident. It triggers some of your own memories.

— The two of you are bonding over similar trauma. Not being able to save the ones you care about is something the two of you have in common. She's somewhat like an older sister figure (if you're looking at this platonically).

— Arcee is afraid to grow attached to you though. Even if she was close with you when Cliff was still online, she tries to distance herself from you afterward but you're not so easy to get rid of and she learnt that the hard way.

— She's definitely the first person who's ever going to hear your story back on Cybertron before the war. How you lived homeless on Kaon, surviving by stealing, and how one bad day with law enforcement completely changed it all; how the abandonment and resentment towards the law influenced you to join the Decepticons. Its... a story which she can see is something you're hesitant to share yourself and she understands it so well. She remembers the helplessness when Arachnid... killed Tailgate. The pain. She couldn't even explain it to a bot when it happened so it just stayed in her spark forever.

— She's typically not one for any display of affection but she's giving you a comforting embrace at that moment. This war hasn't been kind to either of you...

— You've got so much dirt on Decepticon High-Command that Optimus could easily run the galaxy's most effective smear campaign if he wanted to. And Arcee is the one usually getting the exclusive scoops given how close the two of you are. She's got her optics wide at some points of your stories about working with Megatron and she's also getting a good laugh about the times Starscream messes up, the ones she's never heard of because it was confined to the Decepticon ranks.

— Imagine her bringing it up to Starscream as trash talk on the battlefield and he's caught off-guard, so surprised and he just shrieks out a defensive "HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT?" while you're grinning like a maniac in the background.

— Quite possibly the most deadliest duo on the battlefield. Probably. Because you're covering her and the two of you specialize in mainly long range weaponry, with you having explosives as an area of expertise.

— Your recklessness does concern her because you're just throwing yourself into the battlefield without a second thought.

GUYS PLEASE MENTION PLATONIC OR ROMANTIC OTHERWISE I WILL LOSE IT I SWERA. :((

[muletia]

Alright sooo, if we have kitty!Seekers, then on the other end of the spectrum, we’ve got puppy!Speedsters, right?

They beam brighter than a thousand suns when they make eye contact with you in a crowd, wave at you enthusiastically, and immediately head your way to say hi/talk/give you a big ol’ smooch <3 If they had tails, they’d be wagging at the speed of sound.

They love resting their heavy, big-ass helm on your lap and demanding pets. If you pull your hand away for any trivial reason, they start whining and complaining because why did you stop? Get that hand back on the helm and keep petting! They start pawing at your stomach, begging for more affection. The bolder (and needier) ones will straight-up grab your wrist and guide your hand back to their helm. You’re not going anywhere until they get called on a mission (your legs are slowly going numb).

Also, they get zoomies when you hop into their alt mode after a long time apart.

There’s a very high chance that they’ve handed you a rock at least once, thinking it was the most romantic gesture ever (it is).

Umm, and yeah, there’s also a very, very high chance that they’ve begged you for human food more than once, even though they know it’ll end with a visit to Ratchet and a three-hour-long lecture about how Cybertronians shouldn't put things that may kill them in their intakes.

[stickytrigger69]

NSFW TFP Soundwave x femme autobot prisoner if that’s ok, what if he used his tentacles as bondage?

TFP Soundwave x Femme Cybertronian Reader

Femme Reader

NSFW minors DNI!

I took some liberties and thought I'd spice it up just a bit more, so you're about a helm shorter than Arcee.

A/N I am so sorry I've been so inactive, but the universe has been blessing me lately, so I've been losing sleep and spazzing lol so thanks for understanding. Hope this makes yall happy.

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Extreme discomfort sends wave after wave of hot pain from your wrists down your arms. Your frame heating up every second you're suspended in the dark room. You've tried wiggling and shifting, even trying to flip backward, but there's not enough space above you to do so. Every time you struggle, you whimper and groan, venting heavily as you try to relieve the pain from your wrists. You swing slowly from all the moving, helm hanging low optics shut in defeat. While you struggle the door whooshes open and the clanking of pedes slowly approach. Wait, no, there's two sets.

Two bots have entered. A servo snatches your chin and forces your helm up coming optic to optic with Starscream. "Quit moving, you filthy creature!" He scowls. "You're going to hurt yourself, and then I'll be blamed."

"Not like you care screamer!" You snarl at him. You look past his helm to see who's with him. While you thought it would be the good doctor, it's Soundwave. This realization makes you nervous. Starscream growls, deeply angered at your ferocity, let's go of your face and walks over to the controls.

"Maybe this will put you in a better place of understanding." A button is pressed and held, electricity shoots through your small frame and makes you writhe. Your helm shoots up so you can scream at the ceiling, body tensing and shaking. Soundwave stares fascinated, watching your abdomen and tribulen, you move them in circles beckoning him forth.

He grabs Starscreams hand away from the control center and stares into the seekers' faces, who just groans and pulls away sharply. "If you think you can get them to obey, then by all means, I actually have work to do." He nudges Soundwave out of the way and leaves as swiftly as he came.

As the door shuts behind Starscream, a tentacle comes from Soundwaves back and connects to the control center behind him to lock the door shut. Several fire walls later, to ensure his privacy, he unlocks cuffs, and you fall to the ground like a ragdoll. Another ungrateful groan is pulled from your throat. He looks down at your crumpled form. You slowly move and try pushing yourself up, but your servos refuse. You whimper slightly as you try to excessive them, bending them in different directions.

Soundwave stares at you, thick, shiny, smooth tribulen pushed together, pedes supporting your aft. Wide hips but slim waist accentuated by the position. He feels his spike pressurize the longer he stares, his vents kick up a notch trying to cool his processor. He hasn't felt these needs for years, but the second he saw you, that spark of want and need struck him in the chest like a plasma bolt. He takes small steps toward you while tentacles are released one after one, his optics trained on you the entire time. Audials picking up your small whimpers and gasps of pain, "Do your worst decepticon. I'm not afraid of you."

He tilts his helm to the side, and his chest bounces forward in a small chuckle, 'foolish femme,' he thinks to himself. The tentacles slowly stretch towards you as he thinks about something. Should I or should I not bounce around in his helm while his tentacles ever so slightly rub against your plating. It's just as smooth as he had hoped.

This newfound information thrusts his decision forth. "No, silly femme, not hurt you but make you wiggle and writhe like you were just minutes ago." Your optics widen, fear, arousal, confusion all flash through your frame. His voice was deep and low, and the sultry tone made the small wires in your hips feel twitchy.

You're at such a loss, having been flashbanged, you hardly have time to react as his tentacles take hold of your wrists, ankles, and another around your middle, lifting you off the floor pulling you closer and closer to his own frame. You make several surprised noises, but no words are formed. You look and sound like a stupid mechanimal when it's been picked up for the first time for domestication. Your cute face turned up, searching the blank mask he wears for answers.

"N-no!" You finally shout, vocalizer staticky from the excitement coursing through you. His servos reach out to grasp your waist. His digits rub circles on the seams and small wires he can get to. You're ashamed to admit to yourself that you like this. It's disgusting and bordering on rape but, you like the attention. He's cool and confident and quiet and a beautiful mech.

You loathe to say but he's an attractive mech, even if he wasn't physically appealing, the way he carries himself and does his job would be all you need to look at him and imagine fucking yourself on his spike. Your frame heats up and reacts to his touching, tentacles coil and tighten around you, each part being set ablaze.

You look away from him, angry at yourself. ' I don't like it, I don't like it, I don't like it!' You scold yourself. A smooth digit rubs on your modesty panel, and your helm snaps around to look at him. A gasp sharply sucks oxygen through your vents as it slides back lightning fast. "No, no, stop. Dont-!" You feel your optics flood with coolant. 'This isn't happening. This isn't happening' you hyperventilate.

"You like this," His digit rubs against your node, making you twitch, "you can't lie to me. Don't cry, sweet one." He calms your fast beating spark. 'Why!' You scream at yourself, upset that you're losing to him. You have wanted this, maybe. Maybe he can change? He'll switch sides to be with you, right? He starts playing with your slick, rubbing your lubricants all over your soft folds. A moan rolls off your glossa, making him smirk and chuckle, 'now I've got you,' he thinks to himself triumphantly. His own panel slides away, his fully pressurized spike bobs out.

No time is wasted as he rubs the tip against your slickened folds. Your beautiful valve is warm and inviting. Your entrance feels tight, causing a giddy feeling to bubble in his chassis. Without wasting anymore time, he thrusts into you, making you moan so deliciously. Oh, you're so tight.

He wishes he could stay in you forever, but his frame forces him to pull out and thrust back into you again. You pull against his tentacles, but the grip tightens and pulls your arms behind you, wraps around your neck, and holds you a bit higher. Pulling you off his spike and then back down into him, effectively using his strong appendages to use you as a fuck toy making your own chassis buzz with arousal.

He watches closely as your derma split and hang open as he uses you, optics lidded and glowing bright. He's savoring every last second, recording your session together for later reference. He looks down and watches your tight valve swallow his spike. He pulls out and rubs it harshly against your soft lips, so wet and inviting, node swollen and ready to burst. He never asked, but now he wonders, is he your first, has he been the one to rip your pretty little bow off and opened your flower? His spike throbs at the thought, bio lights flickering and popping. His tentacles bring you closer, and he takes hold of you once more, claws digging into your strong armor, pinching and pulling at sensitive wires.

You cry in pain, but it's just a small rock compared to the mountain of pleasure he's built in you. Your node releases wave upon wave of warm pleasure as his spike fucks you deeper and deeper. "Oh please, oh, don't stop." You beg, trying to rock your hips into him, but the tentacles keep you from doing so. One of the smooth appendages snakes it's way up to your plump derma and pushes them apart to slowly push through and pull out in a thrusting motion.

You whine at the intrusion, optics shutting tight, glossa sticking out and rubbing against the underside of his tentacle, making him shudder. His hips plow you forcefully, your processor a muddy mess, only the thought of overloading on his large spike pushes its way through to the surface. He beats you to the punch, however, and overloads, thrusting his transfluids deep inside your valve. The warm flood of liquid is all you need.

You cry and moan out as your own overload shocks your entire frame, arms and legs tensing and straightening out as much as they can. Black tentacles are tight around you as they glow brighter by the second. You both shudder and shiver and twitch. You nearly faint from the charge you've received. Your poor valve is now pulsing and sore from the harsh treatment.

He pulls his now softened spike from inside you, a copious amount of transfluids drip and pour from your now puffy and abused valve. Soundwave stares in awe at the sight, so beautiful, so proud of himself. He thinks he may want to just keep you locked up in his hab from now on. "Am I your first? It sure felt like it." He asks you smugly, making your faceplate heat up once more with embarrassment. No answer, he's right.

He lets go of your legs so fast you groan, your lower half so tired. When your pedes hit the floor, he drops you entirely, tentacles retreating to wherever they came from, but your tired body fails you, and you stumble forward into his chassis. You groan and whine, though not in pleasure. Your legs shake and bend, tiny servos hold on tight to the mech before you. An interesting sound warbles through the room, and suddenly, a blue light illuminates the room. The next thing you know, you're in the middle of nowhere. "Did he just throw me?" You say out loud expecting no one to hear, but then you hear curious buzzing and pips. "Bee?"

Soundwave stares at the floor, transfluids in puddles and drizzles, he thinks of the sky with cloud trails. A small tinge of loneliness vibrates through his chassis. Why should he miss you. You scowled at him the entire time he used you, right? No, you liked it, liked him.

He turns to where the portal had been opened just moments before. He'll have to have you again soon. Swiftly, he cleans up the mess, wipes the camera memory, and leaves the room. Excitement in every pulse of his spark, processor buzzing, he will be planning for cycles about how your next encounter will go, perhaps he will, yeah, that's perfect.