cyberapid

[cyberapid]

do you have any more headcanons/scenarios of Es Bumblebee x Cybotronian Reader? Your work is just absolutely scrumptious 👌

Thank you sooo much! I hope this is ok!

—•—•—•—•—

Your spark thrums, thrums with an excitement you haven’t felt over a decade. It whirls with joy and longing, something you’ve felt deep within your core for too long. There the reason stands in all his fine, yellow polish with a look of utter dumbfoundedness. As you step closer you feel the warmth of his field surround you- just a moment of comforting familiarity before it’s pulled back to his frame, sputtering.

You interrupt before he gets a chance to articulate, “you’re-” His intake mouths wordlessly, “You’re alive….” Though you can't tell if you’re questioning him or making a statement. He stutters long enough for it to be near comical and your thoughts are obviously shared as muffled laughter comes from just behind him. Blue optics stare up at you in amusement before quickly splitting into panic, the small bot then shuffles to be standing behind Bee.

He mouths silently for a few clicks before pausing, “I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you I swear,” he finally answers. Taking both short and excruciatingly long steps to be in front of you, arms length for the first time in what should feel like nothing; a drop of time in an existence that can go on longer than a human's lineage and yet it has felt like a millennium. Hesitant digits trace the seams of your facial plating and his field slowly envelopes you with desperation and longing but most of all, guilt. In vain you try to push comfort to him yet his optics fill with fluid and he turns down, gently bumping the top ridge of his helm against your forehelm and with it a shock of electricity coursed through your circuitry. “I won’t leave you again, I swear,” he promises, pulling your frame against his.

Servos screeching unpleasantly as he grasps at your plating, yellow and black colors sure to be transferred. “I believe you,” it was an attempt at assurement but it's doubtful if the mech believes it or if he’s even registered what you've said. A problem for another time you decide as he pushed his helm into the crook of your neck cabling.

[cyberapid]

Jealousy

Optiratch

This is short and ends super abruptly but I just don’t wanna look at it anymore lol. I wanna write more but I keep coming back to this so now I’m gonna buckle down and finish a Prime Ultra Magnus reader insert i got 🙈

This isn’t beta read so sorry for any mistakes <33

—•—•—•—•—

Ratchet had indulged Nurse Darby and even found her affection for his bonded entertaining, in the way you’d laugh about a sparklings crush but he found his patience thinning with every compliment and flirtation.

It had started with the occasional jest when Optimus hadn’t been in an audible range. Perhaps just to just get a reaction from her son but when changes in her attire and appearance started, that’s when Ratchet knew he’d let this go on too long. What he wouldn’t give to make the advances stop but there was no reasoning he could give without giving away their affair.

The Autobots Prime and CMO bonded?

It would’ve caused a stir if this had been some time back- when they had enough ranks and officials to scandalize with their torrid fraternization. Now though, he’d doubt who’s left of the Autobots would care about their relationship. This fact hasn’t swayed his Prime’s worry that they’d claim him impartial or, worse, that their only medic would be targeted by the Decepticons if word ever got back to them. Not an idea one could put past Megatron as of late with their desperation being as evident as the Autobots.

All of this combined reasoning hadn’t quieted his nerves or cooled the angry rev of his engines as the woman muses with a confused, yet amused Arcee. “Do you think he’d consider a relationship with a human?” Nurse Darby questions.

Arcee balks at that, optics cycling for a moment before answering, “I don’t know? That’s just something- something I wouldn’t ask?”

—Something she shouldn’t ask. There’s an audible creak in his servo but he can’t bring himself to notice or care instead continuing to eavesdrop.

Nurse Darby laughs at a mixture of Arcee’s shock and Jack's audible disgust, “He’s charming and kind of mysterious. Can’t blame a woman.” That’s something he’d have to give her, though the mech he knows now wasn’t the one he originally fell for, it doesn’t make Optimus any less attractive compared to Orion. This war and the title of Prime has given the mech a sense of otherworldliness; a poised and stoic leader that could make any bots struts buckle. The next question pulls him from his musings, “what’s considered attractive for robots?” He can’t help but scoff at ‘robots.’ “Did I say something wrong?” She worries.

“Cybertronians feel attraction similarly to humans,” he answers, then continues on, “It changes depending on the bot’s preferences the same as humans…. Optimus isn’t interested in humans.” That finite answer should deter her, allowing him to work in peace. But nothing is ever simple and the world can never be kind enough to give Ratchet uninterrupted time to work.

The click of her heels on metal gets closer before Nurse Darby is just in his peripheral, with a mischievous smile that would put any bot on edge, “you're familiar with his preference, huh? What kind of bots does he like?” She asks, walking up to the ledge just above his work space. Nerves smother his spark and a thrum of concern comes from Optimus’ open side, a gentle push of comfort calms his partner's worry. There’s an obvious, and truthful, answer to her question but he’s not a naive bot and her sudden mischief is glaring with suspicion. She knows the answer and is goading him.

He’d planned to simply ignore her and continue his work but Bulkhead decided to provide his unsolicited opinion, “that can’t be true. He willingly watches those human movies too much with Bee for there not to be another reason.” Well obviously there is, simple bonding time he couldn’t deny the scout- one pathetic whirl of the bots voice box and his Prime would bend, immediately. He could picture Optimus’ shoulder pauldrons sagging as he’d mutely wave Bumblebee a reluctant agreement, or the way his optics would dim with affection as Bee would excitedly explain human concepts in the films that wouldn’t compute for the older bots.

[cyberapid]

Mom 2 two

ES Wheeljack x Cybertronian Reader

fem reader but I don't think I used she/her pronouns. reader is just referred to as mom 2

goofy part two. I plan for more if I don't lose it.

part 1 here

—•—•—•—•—

By the time Twitch had settled after asking as many questions as her processor could handle, only one set of optics were trained on her. “I think you tired him out, Bitlet,” you’d hummed, amused. Wheeljack's helm had found its way onto your shoulder plating sometime into her rant, slipping into a peaceful recharge- It wasn't comfortable for you with the disconnected wiring that he hadn't noticed but that was a problem for him to fret over in the next cycle.

“My name is Twitch, not Bitlet,” Twitch shifted in her spot to lay her helm on Wheeljack’s tibulen while she laid her pedes over your own, confusion evident on her facial plating and it only deepens at the sound of static spitting from your vocalizer. Quickly you reset and correct the error that pulses through the mechanisms of your helm and one last laugh leaves before you calm yourself.

“I’m aware. Bitlet is a nickname” she nods at the explanation while her optic coloring starts to distort– a telltale sign that the young bot is starting to tire. “You should recharge, I'll keep watch,” you offer with a soothing pat on her smaller helm.

She’s quick to protest even as her optics shut off, “You don't need to watch. We’re home- it's safe.”

You can’t remember falling into recharge, but the sound of unfamiliar voices causes you to jolt out and your programming seems to work faster than your processor as your damaged arm that was supporting Wheeljack flies up, servo retracting inward to allow your cannon to transform and power up a charge. You unsteadily support its weight with your undamaged arm and reboot your optics for a clearer picture of your surroundings; Twitch’s worried expression is the first thing you see, next is her arms going up to defensively push your cannon down and then your audials finally cycle properly.

Allowing you to pick up clear speech from the femme, “Wait, wait! It's just me and my family.” She motions to an unfamiliar bot and then humans that surround her; the air is thick with tension as they all stare, the adult humans stand in front of the adolescent ones.

“No threats here, Sweetspark,” Wheeljack's voice cuts in from the side- where he’s sat by your form. Most of his attention now pulled towards your injured arm, reaching to gently prod at damaged parts with a disapproving rumble of his engines.

Once your cannon is disengaged, which relieves an unnoticed amount of strain from your damaged wiring, the surrounding Malto’s all relax. The first to speak again is Twitch who excitedly gives your designation to her family and gives theirs to you in return.

The rapid questions from the young members of this family go unheard, as all your focus is pulled towards the glowering femme human— one that you recognize, and she seemingly recognizes you. This apprehensive reunion doesn’t stop with her as the sound pede steps pulls attention towards Bumblebee, who pauses and stares at the group in return before narrowing in on you. “Do I wanna know,” he questions. Then his optics settling finally on Wheeljack who looks up from your plating with a coy smile.

“Had a little run in- decided to spend the night…. Hope y’all don’t mind,” he leaves the silent issue unaddressed, opting to return back to working on your damaged arm. He’s a smart mech- just not a very perceptive one.

The femme human finally speaks, “Bee, Garage.” Leaving no room for debate as she turns on her pedes and makes her way into the barn, Bumblebee follows shortly after along with the other adult human. This leaves the two fleshy children and the two terrans sitting aside from both of you, with many unheard questions.

The human girl looks to speak but is cut off by the other terran, Thrash, who scoots himself closer, “If you’re Twitch’s mom 2 then you’re also my mom 2, right?”

The excitement that flares in his optics nearly shorts your processor and makes you want to agree to his statement, but still you confess, “oh, well— I'm afraid I don't know what a mom is….” The reaction is immediate as the terran gawk and shutter in disbelief while the humans attempt to calm them.

Wheeljack's quiet chuckling cuts through their disturbance and he’s quick to shush their further questioning, before addressing you. “A mother is a female identifying human who participates in the care for human children,” he explains while motioning to Mo, the smaller adolescent, and Robby, the larger adolescent, though his explanation receives undignified squawks from the Terran’s.

“And Terran children! Not just humans,” Twitch corrects, receiving agreements from the other Malto children. Wheeljack hums a half apology, and you feel a faint hum of humor pulse from his side of your bond as he clicks your shoulder armor back in place, seemingly satisfied with the state of your arm.

The sound of the barn doors opening again pulls attention towards the three exiting. Bumblebee is the first to speak, obviously studying the GHOST symbol displayed on your plating, “sorry I’m just a bit confused? How long have you been a part of GHOST?”

Nodding at his questioning you answer, “officially I've been apart for 10 orns. 5 of them being undercover.”

“Undercover… With the Decepticons?”

“That’s classified- Autobot,” you tease the mech with pretend disgust dripping from your vocalizer, though he doesn’t seem to catch on as the scout bristles and his optics shift into a glare. “Don’t get your tailpipe in a twist, Bumblebee. I’m joking”

[cyberapid]

Earthspark Bumblebee x Cybertronian Reader

Work Jitters

No gendered terms are used for the reader. There’s gonna be another part as soon as I stop fucking around.

I’ve also got two more chapters for my Mom 2 that I’ll post when I stop fucking around again

:•)

•-•-•

The laughter of the human Malto’s children rings through your audials as the tallest twin slips over the mud that Mo had unexpectedly thrown under them— just as you had instructed her.

Much to Thrash’s annoyance and Twitch’s delight as she quickly jumps over the mudslide taking the lead in their relay race.

It's common for larger bots to have slower and clunker reactions, especially one so young and inexperienced. Nothing of concerning note, not yet at least, you think to yourself but noting it down doesn't hurt for later.

“That's not fair! I thought they weren’t a part of the race,” Thrash’s complaints bring you from any thoughts that knock around your processor. He's now at least five feet behind his sister who leaps over a stray log left in their path then flips over completely before landing on her pedes and continuing on.

Looking down at the screen attached to your arm plate, wirelessly connected to the bots allowing you to monitor their function. You see that the cables in her pedes and struts strain and her vents are struggling to keep up with her, so she’s quickly overheating.

Though amused by their antics, you reprimand the bot, “Slow down, Twitch. Remember this is a race in name only, I just needed data on your physical state…..” Your warning is waved off as she continues her rate.

Thrash is quick on her tail, also pushing himself to an unnecessary degree.

Pulling yourself up to your peds allows you to see them run further down the open plains of the enclosed farm, spooking any poor animal in their way, trekking towards the makeshift ending ribbon that's being held by a fence post and Robby. Who looks nervous by his sibling’s quick approach. Agitation creeps its way through your processor as you finally shout towards the terrans, “Twitch, Thrash that's enough!”

Twitch is the first to skid to a stop at your serious tone and look back towards you but her brother takes her pause as his chance to continue and overtake with a triumphant yell, but his excitement is short lived before he’s stumbling over his sisters stuck out pede and falling flat onto his face plate with an audible clattering.

“Sorry!” Twitch is fluttering towards you with her servos cupped, held over her chest plate, and pedes no longer touching the ground. Leaving her brother reeling, dramatically checking over his enstril, dermas, and dentas to see if everything is still placed where it should be. “We were just-”

“Pushing yourself too far. You're young and haven't been training long, give yourself time.” You place your servo on her slumped arm and crouch down to be face to face with the young Terran.

Your intake halts at the sudden voice of a familiar mech, “Actually, ‘haven’t been training at all' is more accurate.” Bumblebees vents sound with a familiar annoyance, something he's been expressing far more than often recently. Twitch sighs loud and far too dramatic at Bumblebee’s approach, she then turns to you with pleading optics.

“We are training! You’ve got us running and dodging things, training! See,” she turns to a less than impressed Bumblebee who turns to you, equally pleading optics making you roll your optics at their antics.

“I'm not here to train you, nor am I qualified. I'm a medic and only meant to keep you healthy and to learn more of your biology,” you motion towards Bumblebee with your free servo while the other stays placed on the young Terrans shoulder plating, “He’s here to train you. Bumblebee has experience that far surpasses mine. He’s one of the best scouts I’ve had the pleasure of meeting,” a flush blue covers his faceplating at your compliment which goes unnoticed by you but the human children catch it, stifling their laughs as a glare from the yellow scout is shot towards them.

The twins groan loudly and the tallest of them flops onto his back, impact causing mud to splatter over the whole group. Any laughter the humans might still have had quickly dies as their clothing and hair is abruptly covered in mud. Mo being the first to react, eye wide and mouth agape, “Thrash!! Moms gonna kill us,” she turns to her older brother who looks more exasperated than shocked.

“She’s gonna kill Thrash,”

“Kill?” The Terran comes to his pedes quicker than any bot or human has seen so far, terror fills his face and spark at the notion

“A metaphor, not literal. You will live Thrash,” a servo is placed on his shoulder, in the hopes of calming the mech down.

He vents loudly, leaning his helm on your shoulder and slumps, “I thought I was a goner, Teach,” you can’t help the smile that creeps over your facial plating at his theatrics, looking down you transform your arm into a scanner before the blue light goes over both Terrans registering current physical data into your data.

“Thankfully you live another day, thank primus. Meaning you get to have an even better day tomorrow, with Bee, training” the groans coming from the twins swiftly kills the smile that was creeping up Bumblebees dermas.

[cyberapid]

TFP Arcee x F! Cybertronian Reader

It’s criminal how little fanfics she has.

•-•-•-•

Ratchet's sudden jolt and furious typing at his workstation had caught Optimus’ attention, the day had been rather uneventful so far, “what is it, my old friend?” His question pulls the medic away from his work, instead looking up at the Prime.

“A certain Medic just sent me coordinates located on Earth,” he grinned before turning to input the coords into groundbridge controls with practiced precision and the familiar sound of the opening flooded all audials in the room.

The humans and autobots present all perked up as a femme made her way through the portal before it closed behind her.

Miko was the first to speak, blurting out, “who’s this! Another girl bot!” She’s sat criss-cross on the floor just in front of the couch, pointing her controller at the autobot entering. Said bot startles at her sight and at Raf, who’s taken to watching the bot from afar.

“Oh, you have little pests,” This gets a hum of amusement from Ratchet who pulls himself away from his work to greet you,

“Humans-“

“Certainly not pests, they are our companions” Optimus’ servo clasps your shoulder in greeting as Ratchet attempts to shoo him away and ushers you towards his lab, ignoring the chatter of the other bots and humans attempting to catch your attention.

“I know you’re revving to go get a look at what I’ve got Ratchet but where’s Acree?” He hums looking at the coordinates of your ship before imputting them into the groundbridge, seemingly ignoring your questioning. “Ratchet?”

“She’s patrolling! Should be back soon, why?” The voice of the human girl startles you, she’s leaned over the guardrail just above Ratchet’s work space watching you,

“Ah thank you, human. Just excited to reunite, it’s been quite some time” you find yourself scooting away from the small creature and the medic who’s taken to looking through his equipment and towards the main hangar of the small base the Autobots now call home when large servos pull you up off your pedes into a plate bending hug,

“It’s been way too long!! Look at you! New rims? Or a new paint job? Something is different!-“ any further questions he had or any answers you might have given die at the familiar sound of an engine humming down the long hall that leads to their base.

Arcee skids to a stop and allows Jack off before transforming and stretching her struts, “I’m gonna recharge. Mind taking him home when you take Miko, Bulk?”

Her helm turns to you as Bulkhead gently sets you back onto your pedes, she looks- Angry? Her quick steps cause you to shrink back but when she’s finally at an arm’s length she pulls you into a crushing embrace.

Her digits screech against the metal of your back plating as she seems to desperately clutch at any part of your frame, trying to confirm that you’re really in front of her. Your fears melt away and your spark swells at the long awaited sight of your lover, “you,” her digits trace down your back plating to settle on your skirt plates for a moment before sliding back up and clutching the sides of your face plating, “you’re here,”

You don’t verbally respond, instead pushing your helm out of her hands, in order to rub your facial plating into the cabling of her neck. A gentle rumble of your vents mixes with the thrum of your spark as it seems to sense and feel the sudden closeness of its other half; leading to a soft purr to leave your intake which your mate eagerly relies to inkind. The tender embrace elicits different reactions as the prime turns his back, flushed, to assist the Medic who’s optics haven’t left the computer in his lab, then there’s bulkhead who smiles at the embrace with Miko below him, who’s practically shaking with stacking questions in her mind, and finally Jack who stares in utter confusion at his guardian turned friend.

It’s finally Ratchet who interrupts the pair with a click of his glossa to the roof of his intake, “not to interrupt this tender moment but we have work to do, don’t we?” His arms are crossed as he watches the two of you pull apart and then motions to the groundbridge which has now powered on with the coordinates to your landed ship. “I need to look through your equipment, soon as possible. Thank you,” he trudges through the portal without a second word.

“He’s in a good mood,” you turn to your mate with a cheeky smile, tracing pointed digits over the pink framing of her facial plate, “recharge, I’ll join you when he frees me.” She huffs before leaning her helm against yours and nods.

“Fine, be quick” she pulls away with one last look at your frame, “new skirt plate? And side platings, hm” Her digit skims your skirt plate as she leaves the room; desperate for one last touch before the many to come later in the cycle.

“I knew it!” Bulkhead’s voice is the last you hear as you step through the ground bridge, to the familiar sight of your ship and the medic scouring through it.

•-•-•-•

“Gay robots?” Miko stares up at Jack for confirmation at what they had just seen, eyes practically sparkling with excitement.

Jacks less than thrilled with her overexcitement, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that his friend has a partner, who happens to be a femme which he’s fine with, but also that she hadn’t bothered to tell him, “Will you stop it, Miko”

Bulkhead is the next to lean closer to their height before asking them, rather confused, “Gay?”

[cyberapid]

Loved your view on Carrier instincts from Ratchet's point of view. I would love to see a part 2, Sire instincts from Optimus' point of view if possible.

Thank you so much!! I hope this is ok! I love the idea and had like three different drafts before I settled with this lmao.

Wasn’t sure how I wanted to handle sire protocol but I’m kinda satisfied? I thought like overprotective and kinda clingy would be interesting.

Little hurt/comfort and a lot longer

Pt.1 Pt.2

•-•-•

This was a simple retrieval that really only required two bots if all went well, get past the miners undetected, retrieve as much energon as possible, sabotage what you can, and get out. Ratchet had emphasised, excessively, the undetected part much to the annoyance of the small bots given the task.

Once the two were gone Optimus had occupied himself in Ratchet's makeshift med bay, much to the older bots annoyance, by picking up some of the broken equipment littered about but a black servo had smacked his own away. Looking down he’d met Ratchet's fierce glare, “Optimus I can barely think with your racket. Also, stop touching my things. I may need them,” he abruptly turns with a dramatic vent, continuing to track the signal of the two bots within the mines; Audials alert in case a quick exit is necessary.

The prime settled to instead linger behind his bonded, arms wrapped around his middle and servos held firm on cold metal. They watched the monitor as the two blinking bots made their way slowly through twisted corridors, avoiding working Decipticons. There was no real need to continually watch with Ratchet, their very capable Medic, on the job but something within Optimus’ processor made even entertaining the idea painful so he settled with being Ratchet’s secondary optics.

“Are you ill? I swear you’ve been clingier than normal,” Ratchet’s tone is twisted with frustration as he attempts to escape the others grip and get a better look up at him but firm, larger servos keep him in place while attempting to stay focused despite the movement, “are your brain circuits. fried, Optimus? Let me go!” Annoyance bursts through their shared bond as the medic attempts to free himself, uselessly.

The bickering pulls all attention away from the computer as the bonded pair complain and soothe respectively, missing the sudden company that surrounded the two spies. They miss the visual but Acree’s voice pulls them away from each other and back towards the monitor. “We’ve been spotted. Bee’s on the sabotage part already so just keep the bridge ready,”

Ratchet is quickly turned back to his monitor answering the femme, “Groundbridge is locked onto your coordinates and ready when you are,” anxiety fills the shared bond from his mates side and parts of this leak into the connection with their youngling, disrupting the usual contentment that flows through. Optimus feels his spark twist and anger flow through his processor, he attempts to cut the feeling off before it reaches his connection to his family but the sudden stiffness under his servos tells him he didn’t block the connection quick enough

“Open the Bridge, I’ll assist.” His request is met with a fuzzy scoff as his mate turns to him,

“Absolutely not. They’ve almost completed the mission and your being there will only make it worse,” anger flares further and he feels the involuntary twitch of his digit; deep in the logical side of his processor he knows his dear friend is correct but any logic he might of had is squashed by the fear that overwhelms him, consumes him. Something will happen to his creation and he stood by doing nothing.

The sudden anguish that fills their bond with the young boy startles them both from the intense stare off they’d engaged in, “scrap, Bee got hit! Open the bridge now I’m grabbing him. Bee put th-“ her comm is cut short but the two bots are quick to jump to action, a silent understanding as ratchet pulls himself away from groundbridge controls and off to prep med bay while Optimus takes over and activates the bridge.

The familiar whirl of the groundbridge echoes through the base along with the clanging from the medbay, Bulkhead's heavy steps alert the Prime to his entrance.

The Wrecker stands at the edge of the groundbridge's opening, in a tense observation, “should I head in and help em?” Anything their leader had to say is interrupted by Ratchet loudly exclaiming,

“Primus, no! I’ve said this twice now, you two will only jeopardize their exit. We don’t know how close they are or if the mines are large enough to house either of you,” he continues to chastise Bulkhead as Optimus turns his attention back to the portal, awaiting the sound of fleeing pedes. It takes far too long and his plating crawls at the sound of scraping metal that comes from the bridge.

The pain is searing to have to stand and make sure they clear the bridge before powering down the machine, he fights every instinct telling himself to forget the bridge and rush to his injured creation; to sooth his fears. He’d failed, again to protect what is his, what relies on him.

Then he failed to be the first to offer comfort as the white and orange mech rushes towards Acree who’s struggling to hold Bee up, who’s unable to walk with one pede as the other is non operational, spilling far too much energon from busted cabling.

He relieves the smaller scout of his creations form and transfers him onto the awaiting medical berth with care not to irritate any wounds further. Optimus is quick to trail behind him once the bridge is secured, narrowly avoiding stepping Raf thanks to Bulkhead who, as gently as possible, grabs the boy out of the way.

A quiet buzz sounds from Bumblebees intake at the sight of his creators and he sends pulses of joy through their bond which Optimus returns in large quantities to make up for his bondeds neglect of it, who instead focuses on the care of the scouts leg. A sudden shrill sound pulls him from flooding the bond with comfort, “Ratchet! Careful!”

The offended mech looks up from his work and lets out a distorted guffaw, “excuse me? You really have shorted your circuits!” Anger explodes from both sides of their shared bond.

A sudden squeeze of his servo kills any further complaints he has, instead he looks down at his creation who whirls sadly. A steady rumble leaves his intake in an attempt to sooth him and it appears to work as his optics dim, a sated calm pulses through the three way bond, and his engine lulls to a calm rumble. The calm allows Ratchet to work quickly and without interruption.

Silence settles into the silo and Optimus finds himself sparing a glance at his bonded who’s taken to working silently; A sturdy wall between their connection, “Ratchet-“

“Not now” his answer is short and his helm doesn’t raise from the damaged leg of their sparkling, experienced hands working for an amount of time Prime isn’t sure of but he knows it drags on far too long— leaving him with stirring remorseful thoughts.

•-•

Every person or bot has retired for the night or left the silo leaving the bonded pair and an unconscious, but stable, Bee. They haven’t spoken since the short outburst between them with Ratchet busying himself cleaning the mess left in medbay and Optimus watching over the resting bot.

He’d had time to mull over his actions leaving a nasty churn in his tanks, “my dear friend?” Ratchets shoulders tense up and his vents stall out as the equipment he’d been gently pushing into size order clatter to the ground,

“What,”

“I owe you an apology,” he reaches his free servo out to the other mech, expectantly, “please.” There’s a loud sigh as Ratchet accepts his hand and walks closer, settling himself in front of Optimus and beside the Berth for just a moment before an clattering sounds throughout the silo and the medic finds himself uncomfortably sat on the primes lap,

“What was that!” His servo collided with the side of Optimus’ helm reflexively before panicking and checking the slight dent as the other laughs. “Why would you do that! It’s hardly an apology,”

“Yes, you’re correct. I do apologize though, I was out of line for reprimanding you. Especially when you are far more experienced than I am in that field,” there’s a faint hum that leads into a purr from the mech above him— the walls that had been built up come down and contentment eases through their bond. The medic turns to look at their creation, free servo running over scraped yellow plating,

“I need to run diagnostics on you, your demeanour change is strange,”

[cyberapid]

Wavewave + reader insert and either Rumble or Frenzy(it isn’t specified idk)

It’s short bc I got a funny little idea, I’ve got other stuff brewin tho

:)

•-•-•-•-•

The vibrations from his hammers hitting the ground were just enough for the cube to shake away from your grasp. A cat and mouse game in probably a less than ideal space if your sire’s agitated venting has anything to say of it,

“Will the two of your make yourselves scarce,” Shockwave’s patience had long thinned but he had learned from cycles of practice how to tune the immature bots out, but only for so long

“I’m gonna deactivate you!” A snarl spreads across your faceplate as the cassette snatches the cube and runs under the tables that litter Shockwaves lab and out the exit, laughing the whole way. Your sire shouts something your audial don’t pick up, too busy thinking of the ways to torment the older creation of your Carrier- not your brother, your annoyance.

Any poor bot In the way of you two is swiftly shoved to the side or left purplexed as two smaller blurrs flash through their legs or around them. Knockout finds himself on the unlucky side as your body collided with him, sending both of you tumbling to the ground. He’s not as quick to recover, shouting absenities as you push yourself back into a run after the cassettebot.

“Soundwave!! Your pit goblins need to-“ you don’t hear the rest of what he says or really care to, though your speed is slowed by the prodding at your bond with your carrier; confusion and disapproval floods his side and there’s a strong annoyance from your sire.

You reflect bitterness and equal, if not more, annoyance as your sire though directed towards the retreating cassette who turns back sticking his glossa out at you. His triumph is short lived as the clatter of his smaller form colliding and then falling back hard onto metal floors sounds through the quiet room, he turns, intake prepared to soundoff as many insults has his processor would allow but it silenced as your shared carrier gazes down at him then up to you- unreadable.

Scrap.

[cyberapid]

Carrier Instincts

Bit of a swap but I got an itch so Optiratch with Bumblebee son

Bc that’s their son yes

Also fudged the bond and creator coding stuff so If it’s completely wrong just idk ignore me :]

Pt.1 Pt.2

—•—•—•—•—

Many cycles have passed since the emergence of their once tiny, yellow, youngling. Bumblebee is now a nearly grown Bot, so Optimus and Ratchet have found that their Carrier and Sire coding isn't fully offline but rather a secondary instinct- if rarely used at all these days.

The situation Ratchet finds himself in contradicts this idea though, as his frame seems to react even before his processor.

His optics and audio receptors booting up simultaneously brings the sight of his yellow youngling clutched between his arms and soon after the sound of sad chirping, the poor Sparkling- Bot- seems to be desperate for some type of comfort which his Carrier attempts to give with soft rumbles from his engine; something he knows soothed the bot when he was young.

It does the trick as the chirping subsided and his creations optics reboot, bright blue peers up at him and his spark twists at the pitiful sight,

“It’s alright. I’m here-“

A shift from the other side of their comically large berth pauses the old mech as his bonded seems to pull out of recharge slowly, optics flickering a familiar blue but there’s no real evidence of him being awake as his servo clumsily pats their younglings head. The scraping causes Ratchet to wince- There’s definitely some paint transfer from that. It doesn’t seem to bother the Scout who grumbles in contentment from his Sire’s halfaft attention.

“Enough of that,” Optimus’ Servo is pushed to the side as Ratchet turns himself and their Creation to the side, away from the clutches of the half awake Prime who grunts behind him tossing a clumsy arm over the two and slipping back into recharge.

Bumblebee's helm rests against Ratchet's chassis and continues to purr quietly, content. Ratchet returns his call with a deep rumble from his chassis which causes the smaller bot’s optics to flicker off and ease into his carrier's embrace. Ratchet slips into recharge soon after Bumblebee does. They continue to rest well past Ratchet’s preferred time to begin his work. Yet the older bot can’t seem to bring himself to care, even as the nagging in the back of his processor chides himself for his lack of productivity- a smaller but far more dominating directive squashes any thought of disrupting his Creations recharge. Even if his bonded has long left their berthroom with a chaise kiss to his helm and an affectionate pat of their creations helm.

He only allows himself up once his youngling struggles against his grip which he loosens, reluctantly, allowing for the mech to roll off the berth.

“Will we talk about last night?” His question is met with a noncommittal chirp and pedes kicking around nonexistent dirt on his clean berthroom floor, “No, I’m presuming.” The Yellow bot slips from the room, though not before pulling playfully on the bond between him and his carrier, appreciation and love seeping through their connection- vague confusion prods through from the Sire which quickly morphs into happiness, enjoying being included.

[cyberapid]

Mom 2

ES Wheeljack x Cybertronian reader

She/Her pronouns used for reader

I might do a part 2 to this idk

i did do a part 2 :)

—•—•—•—•—

Twitch finds any time she gets to spend with Wheeljack enjoyable, even when he uses this sacred father-daughter time for work purposes. So, when he says he's going to be working just outside of Witwicky for a project she jumps to offer her help, begging not only him but her mom and dad to allow her to help– she is a very capable Terran after all. So, with both of her parent's permission she sets out with Wheeljack into the wooded outskirts of Witwicky to painstakingly push short stakes into the ground, they pulse blue at the very top but once they're covered, she and Wheeljack are the only ones to know of their location. Them and the little notebook she’d been given to jot the coordinates down, a very important autobot mission.

“So much for bonding time,”

The dirt takes the brunt of her anger as she kicks what’s in front of her, scuffing her pristine pede. She almost doesn't hear the crunching of leaves and twigs because of her sulking but the last branch broken was loud enough to snap her out of it, she turns expecting to see Wheeljack. Instead, there's an unfamiliar bot who's larger than her, and holding her arm, that is formed into a cannon, at the ready. Thankfully the femme hasn't seemed to have noticed her, leaving Twitch the ability to transform and fly up just out of sight.

The bot is leaking energon and dragging one leg limply, she’s clearly in pain. This twists Twitch’s spark and fills her with the urge to help but all she can think of is her parent’s disappointed faces and decides to find Wheeljack instead. So, she flies off into the forest, not as quietly as she should have though as the tree directly in front of her suddenly bursts into flame and char. Crap-

“I heard you! Show yourself, Con!” the voice is wavering but confident- Ok new plan, new plans are good. What would Bumblebee do?

“I'm not a con!” probably not that,

“Twitch?” Wheeljack's thickly accented voice is an instant relief as he comes through the woods, confused.

“Wheeljack!-” his name comes simultaneously from Twitch and the mystery Bot who walk towards him, throwing both of her arms around his shoulder pads.

“Sweetspark? What are you doing here,” his tone turns from confusion to worry at the sight of her leg, where energon is spilling from damaged fuel lines “By the Allspark! What happened?”

Their conversion turns hushed as Wheeljack adjusts his volume to the low one of the femme leaned against his chassis but Twitch still catches a few words as she creeps forward, important words being Cons and in the area. Overall, not good is what she got,

“Alright alright. Twitch were leaving before there’s any more trouble,” he’s transforming before she can get a word of protest in, revving his engine and taking off back towards her house after seeing both girls transformed and trailing behind him.

The drive is both quick and horribly slow because Wheeljack is speeding like she’s never seen before but also, she can’t help but try to inspect the leaking car that rides just behind him and rumbles anytime she gets too close to her side view mirrors. She can't help but scout just ahead of them to make sure there’s no unwanted bots in front of them before fly back towards the group,

“See anything, Kid?” Wheeljack's voice startles her from her near trance of flying back and forth from them.

“Nope, all clear up front!” Her voice contorts from the discomforting silence that continues to drag even as they finally drive up the familiar dirt road and see the red barn Bumblebee, Thrash, and herself call home. She quickly transforms back and checks the house, seeing all the lights are turned off and the barn doors are closed tight- everyone's asleep.

There's the creak of metal behind her and she turns to see Wheeljack, back in bot form helping to lift the form of the femme cybertronian who sways unsteadily. “You need to sit, let me look.”

“If I sit down, I don't think I'll be able to get back up,” the bot steadies her helm on Wheeljack's shoulder plate, their hands intertwined in a comfortable manner. It's a scene she's familiar with, loving, like her parents when they are extra romantic or just want to poke fun at their children.

Oh, No way

“You don't gotta get up. Just sit, please,” he’s easing her onto the ground before moving to look over her leg, securing the bleeding which leaves his servos stained blue. “It's not great but it'll do till I can get you back to a medic,” his tone is low and most likely not heard by the bot whose optics struggle to stay open, this was reassurance for himself.

“Who is this,” Twitch’s question startles Wheeljack almost as if he forgot that the young Terran was with them in the first place. “Is she your-”

What does her dad call her mom?

“-your mom? Like mom to your dad?” sounds good.

His optics go wide from this question– spot on. He sputters and there's an audible click as his vents kick into overdrive,

“Mom? No, no- She’s my Conjunx,.” he’s fussing with her damaged leg and trying his best to avoid Twitch’s stare, “So in a way, yes?” A sudden hiss causes their attention to turn to the Cybertronian, who slowly comes to.

She slaps Wheeljack’s servo away from her leg and clutches it. “You did good, so stop Jack. you're killing me,” her tone is sharp and her servos sharper as they turn a annoyed glance from him towards Twitch, gaze softening, “Twitch,”

“You know me?”

“How could I not,” she smiles as Twitch comes closer, settling herself nearly between the two, much to Wheeljack's chagrin.

“But I don't know you,” it's her turn to give Wheeljack an annoyed look which he returns,

“I was gonna introduce you two eventually, just needed to be the right time,” the barns paint chips and the wood creaks unsteadily as he suddenly leans his weight back onto it, rubbing his stained servos over his face plate before giving his digits a disgusted look as the blue stains part of his plate, “And I think it's safe to say this wasn't the right time. I don't even know why you were here,” he turns towards the femme, bewildered.

“We got word that Cons were in the area, no one could get ahold of you, so I went myself. No need to thank me.”

Her smile is weak but playful for a moment before dropping at the quick snark of Wheeljack, who doesn’t seem to catch the playfulness, “Wasn't planning on it”

Twitch watches their interactions but tunes their words out, opting to watch their desperate need for physical contact. The two are sending fierce glares to one another, their servos never untwine even when they are awkwardly twisted around Twitch’s much smaller form- Then it clicks, “You're like-”

“Don't-” Wheeljack's optics widen as he predicts what's gonna come from his daughter's intake and he reels with horror trying to cut her off,

“-my Mom2!”

“Mom?”

“We can have Mom2-Twitch bonding! Science is already Wheeljack and my thing so we can do something else! What do you like to do? Unless you like science too which I'm fine with more of- but I really like-” She continues even with Wheeljack trying to coax her to silence, but her excitement is infectious, and it brings a smile to your face plate.

[cyberapid]

Holo Shenanigans

ROTB Mirage x Cybertronian! Reader

Reader is described as femme and she/her pronouns are used

sorry if this is crap writing the ending of this was like pulling teeth. :)

—•—•—•—•—

Finding parking in the city isn’t easy and having to deal with an all too large pick up makes it even worse. Thankfully, Elana hadn’t had to deal with that, instead allowing the living car to park for her— a short distance from Noah and Mirage. Closing the door behind her she steps out before turning towards her car and talking to it in a hushed tone, 

“I’ll be two seconds. I’m not sure what he needs,” 

There's what she can infer as agreement as the exhaust of her car sounds, probably louder than a truck should, but it’s all she needs before she steps towards Noah who’s heading towards her the same.

The street is busy and loud, as usual, making a decent cover for a conversation that realistically shouldn’t be happening out in the open like this. But here they are anyhow- 

Noah seems disturbed as he nervously picks apart a small piece of hard paper, causing Elana's anxiety, with this now seemingly important conversation happening out in the open, to spike. Her hands clam up and her stomach does flips but it’s interrupted by a familiar and loud horn to rip her from her thoughts, Mirage, and from his window a man is practically hanging out. 

“Lemme get a look at that pretty face! Don’t be shy, babe,” 

Mirage- she knows that voice all too well as it barks from the man leaned out the side of the multicolored Porsche. The low rumble from her running Truck seems to share her confusion while Noah turns his back her, facing the disguised Cybertronian with a sharp look, 

“Get back in the damn car,” his temper is shorter than usual, she assumes it's fair to say whatever news he might have won’t be good. Despite his agitation the Autobot doesn’t relent,

“You're cramping me, man! I’m talking to a pretty girl, not your dog ass,” his grin doesn’t leave despite Noah’s glower, seemingly wanting a reaction from him or you.

“Fix that paint job and maybe I’ll give you time, hm?” 

That comes from a voice that is far too familiar for her liking, turning around she’s filled with utter confusion as a woman is leaned out from the passenger side of her car with a teasing smile shot back towards Mirage

“don't dig the vintage? Ladies love it,” the attention causes the Porsche to audibly grumble with an inferred satisfaction, egging the auto bot on further but his flame is quickly quelled by the femme,

“What ‘ladies’ are you speaking to?” The woman frowns and sends a faint glare towards the man leaning out the window, who’s quickly sent reeling as his sputters a moment, red faced.

“I’m not talkin’ to anyone! They talk to me, babe. Scouts honor” the man leaned out the window has his hands over his heart and widely spreads them out to the woman’s direction thought he’s met with a less than impressed look.

“Your honor doesn’t mean much to me dear.”

He’s left sputtering shouts of ‘come back’ and ‘wait wait’ as she tugs her head back into the truck and the tinted windows rolled back up. Mirage sulkily tucks his own head back through his own window, leaving Elena and Noah to have a quick conversation, agreeing to meet back up at his mother's apartment, with the hopes that she’s already left for work for a bit more privacy.

Back in her truck and on her way to Noah's apartment she stares accusatory at the radio as it plays a song, she doesn't both to pay attention to, 

“What busted your bumper?” the radio cuts out as her car hums with amusement at her seething look, the casualness of her tone grates on her nerves further

“What was that!” they swap lanes rather aggressively, cutting off the fluorescently colored taxi that honks at them and Elena can see the driver angrily waving an arm and shouting wordlessly at them

“Harmless flirting? he’s dumb.” the answer is said absently and she can imagine if you were a human sitting in the seat instead of herself you’d be staring at the rearview mirror as you continue to cut people off to get to the furthest lane and turn at the next light– She hadn't even noticed her hand going up to clutch the grab handle, knuckles white from the anxiety of your less than stellar driving,

“No no. The PERSON” she can't tell if you're playing stupid or genuinely had not got her question and she's not sure what irritates her more,

“Oh, that’s my holo-form” Obviously, at least that’s how you say it. As if it's a very well-known fact and the answer is self-explanatory on its own.

“Ah yes, that explains everything. Thanks”

[cyberapid]

Earthspark Bumblebee x Cybertronian Reader

reader isn't gendered, brief description of a Terran bleeding

—•—•—

The yard of the Malto family is quiet, besides the gentle clanking of Bumblebees stray movements as he holds himself upright on one arm and the occasional sounds of the animals that live there.

“I wish to do a full bio-mechanic and diagnostic scan as soon as possible, Conjunx. Your file has shown that its been more than a year since your last, this dissatisfies me,”

His optics squint open just enough to allow you to see shining blue before they close again with a short huff, optical ridges pinching together and dermas shifting into a place to show his annoyance. “It's not that big of a deal. I run like a dream, but if it'll satisfy you– sure.”

A small whirl of excitement leaves you before you can think of suppressing the excitement coursing from your chassis to your vents, a noise that if you were looking at the yellow bot you’d see brought a small smile to his face plate.

You both fall quickly back to a comfortable silence enjoying the ‘weekend’ that the older Maltos children claimed needed to be without lessons where instead you relax or play in the case of the children, just as quick your calmness was suddenly interrupted by the barn door being slammed open by the twins, Hashtag, and Robby all looking panicked and quickly speaking over one another— Their rambling is cut short by Bumblebee slamming to the ground with a thud so loud it has Robby leave the ground for a moment.

“Slow down! Slow down. What happened?” Your Sparkmate’s quick to push himself back to his pedes as the small horde of the Maltos children nearly surround him— he tries desperately to calm their jumbled panic into something understandable for the pair of you as they drag the two of you towards the entrance of the barn.

A quick scan with your optics covers them in a blue hue, that comes up with no external or internal injuries on them. But the heartbeat of the small human holding your servo to drag you towards the barn is both faster and far more erratic than usual, showing his panic, although you can already tell that from his actions alone.

“It's Nightshade! It was an accident, we only wanted them to come play. Honest!” Robby is quick to give in explanation, seeming to be the calmest child in this situation even with his heightened state.

The two of you are rushed into the barn and then under where you're met with Mo and Jawbreaker fretting over Nightshade, who's clutching their lower tibulen in panic. A scan isn't necessary to see the main issue as Nightshades servos are covered in the familiar blue hue of energon leaks down their pede and is covering their servos.

Nevertheless you quickly scan the young bot, where its registered that one of their fuel lines have been sliced, thankfully not deadly and nothing notably serious,

“Would you remove your servos, Nightshade. I will be repositioning you,” the Maltos children move aside, tense, as you raise and place Nightshade with ease onto a tall workstation. Unlike the children who give you space to work��� Bumblebee doesn't care much for the personal space of the young Terran or yourself as he leans forward inspecting your quick work to find the fuel line in question with a silent panic. “An easy fix but this will hurt, sparkling. I will be quick,” without much explanation after you begin work with pinching the affected line, which causes a yelp of pain from the young Terran whose servos snap to grab Bumblebees. The procedure is small and finished with a practiced ease and quickness as the afflicted line is wrapped in a sturdy tape– not new but better.

Twitch is the first to react with a strangled yell before wrapping her arms around her sibling, resting their helms against one another's, “I'm so sorry! We’ll never sneak up on you again, promise!” her affection is returned by her much taller sibling whose hug nearly engulfs her.

“You should cleanse your servos before- okay,” your suggestion is heard by none of the Maltos children as their excited chatter fills the once tense air but you're just as quickly distracted as you feel your Conjunx's servos creep around your mid-plating from behind before fully wrapping his arms around, sending your spark into a dizzying flutter, “i also have to cleanse mine– so don't, bumblebee,” blue stained servos are held just out of reach of his own wandering ones as a soft rumble from his vents sends vibrations down your back chest plate.

“I think I'll survive,” being behind you hides the cheeky grin he sports but not the warm air from his vents breathing on the back of your helm. “You did great,”

“It's something I've done countless times. I’d be worried if not- the energon, enough Bumblebee.”

[cyberapid]

Happy (?) Reunions

ROTB Mirage x Cybertronian! Reader

Reader is gender neutral but described as larger than Mirage. :)

—•—•—

His face plate is smooth, yet uneven under your servos. The ridges a reminder of the rough living you’ve all had, scrapes and dents that just couldn’t be buffed from his plate yet the familiarity after years of separation sends you into a giddy laugh which he returns in kinda as his vents let out a low thrum you can feel within your chassis with how close both your chest plates are pushed together. His servos slide on top of yours to lock your digits together with a soft click, gently cradling the mechanism. 

The bliss of the moment is short lived as his excitement is quickly replaced by worry as the small mechanics that make up his face plate shift into a nervous grimace below your digits, which he quickly removed from his helm instead opting to hold them in between the two of you, 

“Listen. You can’t be mad. Prime is gonna be pissed enough so you gotta be with me babe- hear me out, ok?” 

His smile is nervous and slightly desperate as he looks up to you, anxiously fidgeting with your digits that dwarf his. His head turns just off to the side, turning your head the same and you’re met with a human, frightened and gripping a metal pipe so tight that his servos— Hands— have turned white. 

       “Mirage. You didn’t,” you breath as your vents audibly shudder, you might stall out this time. 

All excitement from the reunion is lost, releasing your grip on his servos as your attention is turned towards the human man who’s taken to pointing the pipe at you. Turning your frame towards him you dwarf not only your Conjunx but the human he’s stown away. 

“You had one job- To stay hidden and you couldn’t handle that? Is your processor malfunctioning or have you not bothered to use it at all?” 

The words come out harsher than intended as his servos quickly grasp for your own. An attempt to greedily pull your gaze back to him even with its disappointment, but something twinges in your spark as his optical ridges shift with worry- almost pleading-

He’s placating you and it’s working, slag.

 “In my defense he wasn’t supposed to be there! Broke in and just happened to hear Prime-,” 

Here comes the excuses, out of his perfect yet immature intake,

 “—So in a sense it’s Primes fault? I didn’t announce myself. I played it cool, as always. Primes just got a big mouth- intake. Whatever,” 

His preference for the humans words starts to irritate a petty part of your processor that’s already agitated with him, truthfully his enjoyment of the whole culture grinds your gears-

Rumbling outside interrupts any thoughts or complaints you might have had, but leaves your conjunx in a further panic along with the human who turns the pipe now towards the entrance where the others drive through,

 “Better start thinking of a better excuse, Sweetspark,” you hum to him, leaving to approach the team you haven’t seen in years with an apprehensive excitement.

[cyberapid]

Kiss of Death

The chill in the air was familiar, too familiar and far too unnatural, it’d woken him with a start. Cold stone and iron bars – for a moment he'd panicked, and it continued to rise when he caught a glimpse of the dark clad figures stationed around his hold. The taste of bile rising in his throat as he stared from his tormentors to the vast, dark, wooded hills of the surrounding areas.

It would have been beautiful not considering his circumstances and for a moment he’d allowed the thoughts of his future to slip from his mind instead he’s thinking of the past few hours. Having cleared his name to the few people that truly mattered to him, he’d seen Harry, a spitting image of his father, James. Suddenly his mind clouded with the false hope that maybe after this he’d be able to see him again, James, he’d call him an idiot but hug him, nonetheless.

The cold nipped at his gaunt, cracked, tear-stained face dragging him back to this reality. That would not happen, it’ll be as he never existed, no soul, and no happiness– he will be nothing. A distant, sad memory for some or for others, a crazed murderer who’d finally gotten what he deserved.

Quiet footsteps had pulled him from his spiral, squinting against the dim rising sun, a vision standing in front of him. He’d lost it again. Lanky and hunched but, breathtaking, Remus, a cruel hallucination he’d seen many times over. This time it would be his older self he’d see, instead of the lanky, yet slightly more self-assured, younger Remus that would plague him in Azkaban.

Scruffy, slightly out of breath, and littered with fresh gashes and if hadn't it been for the smell of metal as he walked closer, Sirius would have continued with these thoughts. His knees had shaken as he kneeled in front of the small cell, his weaker knee seeming to give out first making him land with a nearly undetectable wince.

Neither spoke, instead grey eyes piercing into watery green as tears fell, two, three, four slipped by and continued, Remus tried to disguise them, looking towards the dementors.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Sirius had said, reaching shaky hands through the bars wiping the few tears from Remus’ face leaving streaks of grim. Tears had begun forming around the corners of his eyes, it could have been his emotions or the fact he was trying not to blink, taking in what are his lost glimpses of his dear friend.

A huffed broken laugh leaves Remus as he’d lean into the palm of his hand, light wrinkles form from his mouth to his nose from that, Wrinkles. They’re old is all Sirius could think of all he wants to think of for once.

“I- I had to see you. I had to apologize-” Remus’ hand had reached to clutch the hand Sirius had been using to hold his face. His voice had cracked during his sentence and something Sirius hadn’t thought he’d had in himself broke.

“Apologize for what? You’ve done nothing, my dear... Friend,” his heart had raced for a moment, and he’d found himself reminiscing on old, stolen memories again. Longing look, unsure touches, and desperation for love in a way he’d thought was unnatural, unbecoming, his parents would have thought for a member of the black family, the heir.

“Damnit Sirius don't be so forgiving right now!” it's a hushed shout, with no real anger, he'd look back to the dementors then to Sirius, “don't lie. It could have been avoided if I'd taken my potion. You’d be free…He’d have been here,” venom fills his voice and his eyes dark at the mention and even thought of him. Peter, slipped right through our fingers, once again.

“I’d rather we talk about something else, my dear,” pausing the sentence there, just to see, to feel as Remus tenses for a moment in his palm. A sad smile forming through scarred and chapped lips. That damned smile that tormented Sirius, but lured him, throughout their years in Hogwarts and further. Even through their darker ages, the distrustful times. “Though we have little time, “the sun rises closer, and he knows the minister would be antsy to have the kiss delivered as soon as possible.

“Then, don't speak just- just listen.'' Remus had looked at him exasperated and unsure of himself, Sirius had seen the look plenty of times throughout their teen years. “I need to tell you- tell you something important.” scooting closer than Sirius had thought possible in their current position, cut off from one another by bars, a cell.

“Sirius, I have…. feelings for you. I have had them since-” he’d avoiding eye contact now, spitting the confession out like it burns him to even say and whatever he’d had to say after Sirius hadn't had heard as his ears seem to ring, his eyes linger on Remus’ lips, continuing his garbled confession that Sirius had tuned out. The tightening of Sirius’ hold on his face seemed to shut the taller man up, ironically his facial expression rivalling a frightened deer, as Sirius roughly tugged him forward towards the cell.

Sealing them in an awkward kiss, greatly blocked by the iron bars, but it's perfection. Scarred and chapped lips connected in a chaste, loving way before pulling apart, followed by gentle and loving words. Soon forgotten by one of the men but living on, a happy moment, corrupted, in the surviving man's memories.