fridaysmind

[fridaysmind]

Cakeverse! Optimus Prime x Reader (NSFW)

The Cakeverse is a variation of the Omegaverse, but there are not Alpha/Omega/Beta, but Forks/Torts/Normals. The gist of the alternate universe is that there are people, Cakes, that taste absolutely wonderful. Skin, saliva, sweat, and even blood have flavours that can be addictive, but only Forks are able to taste these flavours. Forks have a dulled taste for life, until they taste Cake for the first time and become addicted to the sweetness of their body. Forks and Cakes may not know they are a Fork or a Cake. Normals are just normal people, they don't have any of the characteristics of a Cake or a Fork.

You met in the Nevada desert, lucky it wasn't so hot this time of year. In an incomprehensible way, you had become separated from your group of tourists, and now you were wandering through the hot sand, hoping to shout to someone, but to no avail.

The sound of metal hitting metal was your salvation, and you ran as fast as you could, assuming someone would help you. As you scrambled up the slope, you were blinded by a flash of green light directly into your eyes, and when you carefully opened your eyelids again, you were confronted by a… metal man… You must have got your head pretty hot after all.

The strange creature notices you and hunches over slightly, as if from the weight on his shoulders, clearly sighing heavily.

He, Optimus Prime, kneels down on one knee in front of you and in a velvety voice tells you about Cybertron and asks you to follow him to the base of his comrades, for your own safety. Following strangers is dangerous, that's what you've always been taught. But whether it's the alluring sky-coloured eyes or the hypnotising tone that makes you forget everything, watch wide-eyed as his body parts unfold and reassemble back into the brightly coloured truck, and then sit in the front seat with the delight of a small child.

When you arrived at the site, a pile of paperwork awaited you, introductions to the kids, new bosses, and a brand new race that came straight from outer space. One of the aliens looked reproachfully at your new acquaintance and said that you were now Optimus' responsibility. The ecstasy of the emotions raging inside you didn't leave you for months.

But did leave one day.

You don't have the most gorgeous and perfect family in the world, but over the months you missed your home, which you were still not allowed to go to. Every evening the kids would make noise, scream, or break something. Hiding somewhere away from Miko's lousy guitar playing in the uncomfortable corridors was not at all pleasant and it all pressed down on you again and again until you were somehow in the palms of your cyber partner's hands, sobbing with exhaustion.

You're unbearably hot for days on end, and it's not even summer yet, and you have a headache and you really, really want to go back. And the Autobot leader does nothing but hold your tiny figure close to his faceplate, looking at the sobbing human with genuine sympathy. As he tries to soothe your mind with his quiet voice, you press your crying and sweating face against his faceplate, seeking comfort and some semblance of a hug.

Optimus is not disgusted or annoyed when human fluids touch his lips and chin, the Autobot's ventilation systems blowing out a cool stream of wind, ruffling your hair on the top of your head. As he continues to speak comforting words into your temple, he hesitates, and the blue optics fade slightly as he focuses on the strange sensation. A sweet taste, unlike any Cybertronian sweetness he was familiar with, seemed odd. Following, atypical impulse, Optimus gently presses himself against your warm cheek, the wet flesh leaving a transparent trail again, and the Autobot tastes it while you rub your eyes, not really paying much attention to your partner's actions.

Sweet. No desserts on pre-war Cybertron could compare to this pleasant taste, and the energon extracted from this planet had almost no pleasant taste at all and was only good for survival. How strange. Do humans have to taste like this?

He doesn't ask questions, doesn't embarrass you, but keeps soothing you until you fall asleep in a lump on his desk.

He couldn't find the answers to his questions in the human database, much less the Cybertronian ones. But the pleasant tang remained at the edge of consciousness, day after day. Wanting a little more, just to make sure he wasn't imagining it.

***

And how did you two end up in this position? You don't remember much at all. How you came to this, how you found yourself alone in the darkness of Optimus' compartment, and how his cool metal tongue touched the flesh between your legs.

It felt surprisingly comfortable to lie on the metal of his palm, no longer hot or sick. Quite the opposite, his movements now made you gently rock, as if on the waves of a calm sea, and the slides, more like a cat licking water, made you cover your mouth with your palms, moaning quietly and hoarsely.

Does it have to be gross? You are different races of creatures, after all. Maybe. You're not sure. But when he raises his optics to you, illuminating your half-naked body in the darkness, you see genuine pleasure in his gaze, as if he's enjoying himself as much as you are, if not more. The engine of his body works very loudly as he allows himself the first loud exhalation of pleasure. The vibration travels through the sensitive nerves and his legs squeeze the sides of his face with their own hands

To him, you're still just as sweet. It's all so incomprehensible that it's like a delusion or illusion, but Optimus can't make himself stop. You feel good, don't you? So small and defenseless, he's just making sure his tiny partner isn't sad, now that you're moaning instead of whimpering, why would he stop and upset you?

This is delicious. It's unlike anything else he's ever tasted in his long life. Running it over the moist folds again and again, circling the sensitive nerves of the clitoris, waiting patiently for more of the lovely nectar to come out, lapping and sucking and circling again.

And your hips quivered. With each movement of his mouth, her pelvis jerked upward on its own, and the muscles of her entrance clenched. Making the situation worse was his gaze, which the Autobot leader just wouldn't let off you. Optimus is watching your every reaction, your eyelashes, your lips, your breathing, everything, so he knows exactly where to push harder and faster. Your toes clench as your body conducts a current through your body and makes your back arch for another orgasm.

You whimper a little pitifully when he doesn't stop and the Autobot takes a brief break from the tasty treat, licking lips and looking at you.

Are you tired yet? That's a shame, he thought you were just getting started

[fridaysmind]

Thunder wanted to introduce you. Unfortunately, this is the first day in a long time when you decided to put on a dress.

I would like to draw as well as I write…

[fridaysmind]

Stand proud, you can cook. Im looking forward to seeing you future endeavors and works.

Yandere!Starscream x Autobot!Reader

Chapter 5

(Chapter 4 is here)

Thank you all for the kind words, I don't know how to reply to multiple posts at once, but I read them all! Good sunday morning! GN!Reader; Obsession; A departure from the canon; TW! Forcible restraint. Emotional instability. Brainwashing. Mentioning the death of a minor character.

“I thought I told you to lay back longer after your surgery, and I work here, why are you barging in?” Starscream puts aside the items brought to him and speaks to Wheeljack in his usual gruff tone.

You don't realize what surgery he's talking about and look on in genuine disbelief. No. You haven't known Wheeljack as long as the others, but a spark tells you he can't be a traitor. Mech only waves off the seeker's words and briefly casts a glance in your direction, seeming concerned about your condition nonetheless.

“I'll handle everything, just go away!” the seeker stops the bot from asking a question and kicks him away with a gesturen.

The Autobot, with the Autobots insignia gone, makes a sarcastic remark, obeys the seeker, and simply walks away, no longer paying any attention to you, as if you were perfectly safe and nothing to worry about. Unable to withstand the pressure of questions in your mind, you turn your helmet sharply enough to make it creak.

“What did you do?” your fear of the seeker and desire for caution having fallen away completely, you glare at him in what you think is a rather menacing manner. But the one grins, looking down at you from above. In his optics, you are not only harmless, but charmingly amusing.

“It's nothing special. Don't you know we've known each other since before the war and even worked together? I just did a little work on him while you were asleep and brought back that wonderful time.”

“You processorwashing him?” but Starscream only shrugs innocently in response and places the scanner on one of the shelves, turning his back to you. The back of the seeker's head doesn't look good, as if he's soldered himself a random layer of metal. The hue is completely out of sync with the rest of the grey frame's coloring and it's hard not to start asking questions again. Alas, too many of them have accumulated.

“And what's wrong with your helmet? You look like Frankenstein.” you make a disparaging joke about his appearance, but the latter frowns in incomprehension.

“Like who?”

“...Never mind, a character. So what is it?”

Starscream gently touches that part of the helmet in response, fumbling with the rough edges with distaste in his optics. Apparently putting that thing on was painful.

“Insecticons obey Arachnida because of telepathy. Their species are close enough to each other that they mistake her for the ringleader...” he explains, tapping the tips of his claws on the table. ...The metal perfectly matches the color of her frame, and you rise sharply at the answer that comes to mind, but hiss back down again as Starscream leaps up at you.

“You just finished her off?!”

“Just!?” the mech levels his back insultingly, silver wings rising perpendicular to the ceiling. “It actually wasn't easy at all! I was alone and exhausted, and yet I came out victorious!”

Starscream won't say he expected your praise for his progress, even if he did. That day he felt like he was in a gladiatorial pit. Usually he shot, almost always shot, but not this time, he didn't even remember half of the fight, but the claws in the energon and the bitter taste in his mouth could be considered proof that the seeker was tearing her up like a wild animal. Do you know what it cost him? Despite the lack of a decent enough reason, the seeker felt resentment.

“How lucky you survived...” you can't hold back the rolling of your eyepieces, coughing from the energon-receiver fever. “What about Wheeljack? You never explained it clearly.”

But Starscream turned away from you, resting his palms on the long table. Muttering again. He ignores you and talks to himself, either in Vossian or just too inarticulate, sounding more and more like a lunatic, to say the least. Why did he suddenly stop talking to you so abruptly? At one point you thought he was about to tell you anything.

Oh, he was. He was ready, genuinely eager to share everything with you. To tell you how his days went by, how dawn turned to dusk again and again, while he never missed a day, doing his best for his plans. And there were many. You-a message from Primus himself, there wasn't a shred of doubt in his processor about that. He lay there that day, bleeding energon, berating himself for believing in himself too much and not returning to Nemesis as soon as the opportunity arose. He thought he was a fool who shouldn't continue to resist fate and just submit, wanted to call the Decepticons for help and not think about escape or confrontation again. And then you appeared. Like an angel in the light of a star receding over the horizon, you lent a helping servo, without scorn or mockery, your careful touch was like a blessing kiss, and there was no other way he could take it, though he didn't understand it right away. After all that had happened, it drove him crazy to want to see you again. He'd taken apart parts of an already broken ship to assemble Earth bug-like devices with a camera inside, just so he could take a break from his work every now and then to look at you recharging in your compartment. Noble and innocent. Staring at you in the semi-darkness of the room, resting his long chin on his fist, simultaneously calmed the mind and only made him want to find you more and take you away. To see you live. To touch you for just a little longer. But now you're here. Hunger, sleeplessness, hating yourself and others, working out the smallest details of the plan, and you're here, with him, after all.

The systems slowed as he exhaled, the thought bringing back his sanity. Of course he needn't worry, the most important thing is you lying beside him. After a while you'll be ready to have a full conversation with him, it's just that right now discomfort and pain are taking precedence over sanity, that's all. He reaches for your servo, picking it up by the wrist and examining your fingers.

It's small. Your palm looks rather fragile in comparison to his. He sinks back into his thoughts as he sees the scuffs of his blunted claws. He's partially ashamed to present himself to you like this. All seekers were clean-cutters, he was too. It was hard to tell when the self-care wore off, his need for cleanliness starting to fade gradually as day after day he just had to get through another humiliating day without thinking about hygiene and polish.

“Is there something wrong with my servo?”

Your vocalizer brought him back to reality, and he shook his head negatively. That's right, you're injured, he should do something by now. Starscream releases your limb and pulls open the panel of your protective armor on your side, already seeing the damage on the outside. The sting of rage in the Spark at the paucity of these insect-like creatures makes itself known again, but the seeker forcibly extinguishes it.

There's nothing you can do but doubt that the mech should be trusted with treatment, and you gently hint at it to him, but Starscream only covers his optics with the palm of his hand in response, sighing heavily at your chatter. You may be a little different for him, but you're clearly letting him remember why he hated and still hates working with children so much. It's so hard with you...

“You know how I had Ratchet helping me stitch?” you mention the doctor and Starscream's frame twitched as he looked down at you in disgust. For a brief moment, it looked like the already scarlet optics were about to melt you right on the spot from the intensity of the light.

“Don't.” Silver mech hunches over. “Speak.” leans right over you. “About him.” Starscream doesn't shout, he speaks softly, almost a whisper, but the seeker's voice is low. The rush of air blown out by his vents makes you squint. Why wouldn't you mention your teammate?

“Look, you don't know him like I do,” your words are only met with a roll of your eyepieces. “he's a wonderful companion, a good teacher, and my friend--”

“Great! Come on, let's talk about his professionalism, his ability to keep the dialog going, or your perpetual patting and hugging! Those are exactly the things I need to hear about when I'm trying to focus!”

Is it silly to think Starscream is jealous? Probably yes, but that's exactly what it sounds like. He sounds jealous. Although, saying it even in your own thoughts is so wrong and embarrassing. You're straight up saying the mech is talking nonsense.

He replies that he is only annoyed by your rambling, but his emotionality is unnecessary, you know that. There's no point in hiding these thoughts from the seeker, so you tell him straight out: there are those who have it harder, but they don't break down. There's Ratchet, for example--

“ENOUGH!”

With his shout, echoing even in the corridor outside, not only you, but seemingly all systems were silenced. Immediately after your startled glance in his direction, the seeker's faceplate breaks into a smile.

“There you go,” the tips of his, already ragged and dull, claws run across the top of your helmet. “Is it so hard to behave obediently?” Starscream almost purrs, and you look away, finding the bare metal wall extremely appealing, ignoring his glossa's clucking and the seeker's cowering to the side.

Your helmet momentarily turns to him again only to have your servo is squeezed hard and some substance is injected.

You twitch, shouting curses in his direction as Starscream keeps your frame pressed against the platform. Despite his scrawny figure he is surprisingly stronger than you.

“It's nothing, you're being dramatic. You'll just sleep a little longer while I treat you. You're impossible to deal with when you're so psychotic.”

“I'm psychotic?! You're the real psycho!”

But consciousness still clouds over, no matter how much you don't mind. The frame stops actively struggling, the sounds around you muffle, and you eventually pass out, finally hearing a relaxed sigh and feeling a soft touch on your forehead.

Yeah. He's having a hard time with you, isn't he?

[fridaysmind]

Can I be honest real quick?

YOUR WRITING IS AMAZING!!!!😭👉❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

Sweetie, it's so important for me to hear that! Thank youuuu

[fridaysmind]

Yandere!Starscream x Autobot!Reader

Chapter 4

(Chapter 3 is here)

GN!Reader; Obsession; A departure from the canon; English not my native!! TW! Kidnapping. Trauma. Betrayal (?)

Finally a battle, just like old times. With a pinch of irritation, Soundwave watched the crack of the Autobot's blow spread across the visor, but straightened his shoulders and focused on his opponent again, but bot, in turn, abruptly stopped paying attention to the Decepticon and, with a vague emotion on his faceplate, took a cautious step back. The blue mech turned his frame just a few inches before a blow to his back knocked him onto his breastplates. Someone from above presses the mech into the ground, the helmet barely lifting and Soundwave sees a swarm of aggressive insecticons in a sky almost blackened by the number of these individuals. One of the dots above him approaches, landing near the sound of transformation, and the mech recognizes the former air commander. Starscream.

Decepticon tries to get up, throw the carcass off and tell the seeker what he thinks about him in the only language Starscream understands: the language of pain, but the silver figure raises a resonant blaster and with one gesture forces the beast off the communications officer's back. The latter rises as quickly as possible and silently but aggressively snatches the artifact from the seeker's hands, aiming the weapon at the silver faceplate. But Starscream only smiled.

Soundwave restrains the body twitching with discomfort, the mech trying to find something on the surface of the seeker's mind, but inside the processor it's as if it's utter chaos. Or rather, more than usual. The seeker looks so unnatural that the flat servo lowers the blaster itself.

“You give him my regards, I am, after all, absent for so long not entirely of my own free will. But I promise to come back to y'all with some presents."

Come back? The communicator's helmet tilts to the side. This has to be a bad joke. The shattered dark screen lights up as a wave of color shows the audio tracks playing:

“Why should we_waiting_you?” but the seeker, ignoring the question, jumps in place, transforms, and soars into the air. The pair of remaining insects, with the disabled Wildjack in their clutches, obediently follow him like moths attracted to light. Soundwave would have been able to follow and he's about to, but a request for help from Laserbeak arrives.

Without a doubt, the mech prioritizes his priorities and, after a few more glances at the distant dots in the sky, transforms and rushes to his friend.

***

“...But I promise to return to y'all with gifts." the recording of Starscream's confident voice echoed off the dark purple walls of Nemesis.

Megatron crunched his sharp dentoplates, standing with his back to his communicator and looking at the clouds floating by.

“Interesting..." the massive figure turns around, the Lord's scarlet optics sliding over the grim mask with a squint. “And what is his plan? Did you catch something on the surface of his mind?”

“Only one thing:” Cybertronian symbols lined up in a sentence, ”total chaos. Presumption: Starscream has gone insane.”

***

If it weren't for the emptiness in your abdominal plates, you would have thrown up. At least somewhere the endless Autobot hunger has played in your favor.

Your vision slowly recovers and your mechanisms kick in, but your processor is flooded with multiple damage notifications. A wheeze leaves the vocalizer, and you turn your helmet to face the sight of one of those insects that attacked you. Combat protocols activate and your torso tenses, preparing to fight, but the endoskeleton crunches painfully and you lay back down on the metal floor with a groan. The beast, in turn, bounces anxiously and rushes out through the automatically opening doors.

As the pain speeds up your ventilation, the audio sensors pick up voices from outside.

“...And a little damaged-”

“What?!” even behind the closed doors the scream seemed too loud, it was scary to imagine how deafening it was to whoever was standing next to them. It was hard not to recognize Starscream's aggressive tone. Slag. How the hell did you get yourself into this?

“Idiots! I issued a clear order to be careful!” the last word sounded like deadly poison and and then there was a bang. It seemed that the seeker had received a beating for his glossa.

But there was no shriek, no falling or begging, quite the contrary, quick steps were heard in your direction, the doors slid apart and the body of the mech gleamed in the cold light of lamps, completely unharmed. Come on, there's no way it was him that hit the insecticon. After all, why would they suddenly follow his orders?

Maybe the fall damaged your processor after all, because you its seems like Starscream anxiously approaches you and examines you with something akin to concern in his optics. He's serious, muttering something unintelligible about what kind of idiots he has to work with, and you stare warily, silently watching his every move.

Seeker slid his claws under your much smaller figure and lifted you gently, deftly dragging you onto a high raised metal bed. The frame doesn't even respond with pain, so carefully you've been moved.

“What's even going on?” you can't get up if you want to, you have to hold steady and calm with real fear in the spark before the seeker. You've never felt in such danger before and there was literally no one around to come to your aid. There's no connection, the frame hurts and you can't get up, what a curse...

“There's nothing to explain, it's fine. I'm not going to do anything to you, I'm just going to fix what those imbeciles did.”

He's going to medicate you? A Decepticon? Exactly Starscream, of all the mechs orbiting planet Earth? Your helmet must have taken more damage than you thought, the processor's never experienced such lags before.

“Are you kidding me? Why would you suddenly show such mercy?”

“Why did you decide to heal me that day?” his servos move with the old scanner as he ignores your question and asks his own.

“What was I supposed to do?” you don't think about the answer for a second. “You needed help, I provided it. The code of honor requires it.” a smile stretched across Starscream's faceplate as you answered him confidently. What exactly was wrong with him?

“This is it. That's why it worked, that's why I changed direction. That's why I genuinely liked you.” I guess if you weren't defenseless, alone in an unknown room with a Decepticon behaving in an unaccustomed manner, you would have found those words quite endearing, even embarrassing. Seeker continued:

“You're acting really different from the others. Just seeing a mech in trouble, just helping, just letting go, you know?”

No, you don't quite get it and you start arguing.

“Any of my teammates would have done the same thing, that's obvious.” and you mean it. Yes, perhaps he would have been taken to the base for interrogation and information, Starscream isn't just some Decepticon after all. You don't speak those thoughts aloud, though.

“Oh, also naive, how sweet. Do you really believe any of your friends would selflessly lend a servo of help to someone who isn't their own, or at least just useful?” the words are spoken by him with such bitter certainty that you don't find anything to answer. Wouldn't they? You want to continue this conversation, but the door slides open again, and you struggle to turn toward the new guest.

You can barely contain yourself from cheering. Wheeljack! Alive, almost unharmed, but clearly exhausted, he enters with something clenched in his fist, Starscream turns around, and you freeze, waiting for a fight.

Which doesn't come.

The Seeker picks up some object and the mechs exchange handshakes.

[fridaysmind]

Ooooh I'm so normal about yan!starscream with the religious theme and how reader's accidental touch basically makes him freeze and tamed him a little there "A single touch made a current run through all the circuits and the scarlet optics go out as he exhaled and lowered his twitching wings in pleasure." Eating this btw

i'm sure reader's just sooo confused about how quick his behaviour changed.. and the gag of star giving some cryptic message before immediately transforming into a jet and flying away again,leaving reader to even more confused made me laugh harddd, lol poor reader

Great work!!!! <3 💗💖💖

Yandere!Starscream x Autobot!Reader

Chapter 3

(Chapter 2 is here)

Oh, my Primus, thank you very much! Kind words warm my Spark! GN!Reader; Obsession; A departure from the canon; You x Ratchet (a little) TW! Minor character death, kidnap, injuries.

Too much had happened in the intervening time, and Starscream was still out of sight. This caused doubt and discussion among the Autobot base, but not for more than a few seconds, as another expedition demanded attention.

You are diligently putting everything in its place, disinfecting medical devices, helping to treat your friends, in short, fully immersed in the events, but when the base becomes quieter for a while, the edges of your EM-field seem to pick up something dangerous.

With a weary sigh, you clear another surface and feel the optics on your frame again, but when you turn around, you see only your leader, not taking his attention off the console. You can't remember the last time he ate or charged, but touching him about it is futile. The overwhelming urge to talk a little keeps you going, and you walk past Optimus, entering the medical bay and seeing Ratchet.

As the conversation progresses, you both broach the subject of someone else's presence as he digs through the thin wires of Bulkhead's broken device, nodding occasionally in response. Every now and then you stop your speech to look in the direction of something moving, but see no more than a bug crawling away in the vent of a missile silo. This whole thing is nothing more than paranoia, right? You want to hope so.

And even Ratchet suggests that everyone is on edge right now. Decrypting the files, missing and rescuing Optimus, the fading and rekindling hope of winning this long war. It all takes its toll on every member of your team. You approach the doctor from behind, silently watching the light and quick movements as he unravels, interlocks, reinforces the microchips and it calms your processor.

“You're right, we need to focus on our mission and when we rebuild Cybertron everything will fall into place” you gently hug your mentor from behind, wishing him a quiet job and go on to put things in order.

When. Not if, but when we rebuild Cybertron. It wasn't until long after you left that Ratchet found a faint smile on his faceplate. When did the mech get so attached to you?

***

“Optimus, you can't be serious. Wheeljack can't follow orders, he's simply out of control, and sending such a young Transformer with him...”

“Wheeljack is a skilled fighter, and you can fully trust your assistant just as I do.” your leader's voice is as usual calm and friendly in response.

The reason you rarely showed up on the battlefield was precisely because of Ratchet-he'd find a hundred reasons why you'd be better off staying near him. He needed your help in the medical bay, or you were being punished for bickering, or you had a suspicious limp, or whatever. But now he can do nothing.

Despite the seriousness of the task assigned to you, there was no point or time to argue. It was up to each of you to catch the artifact and snatch it out of the hands of the Decepticons.

The Decepticons...they had clearly become more ruthless, even though it seemed impossible. You can still remember when the base received a message begging for help. From whom? Arachnida! Despite the obvious reluctance of either of you to save this spider-woman, Bee and Arcee still arrived at the strange cave, but found nothing but the femme's dead body, mutilated so hideously you'd think she'd been torn apart by fangs. She had probably gotten a real beating in the power struggle after all, but none of you would miss her, anyway.

You greet Wheeljack with a welcoming smile as you emerge from the green funnel.

“Immediately note: Prime has decided that I should be the one to watch over you, not the other way around.”

The mech only chuckles in response to your words, sarcastically offering a servo as your peds step onto his ship. You accept the offered limb and a moment later you soar through the sky at high speed, continuing your dialog, from which you are distracted by Soundwave suddenly appearing on your tail. What luck...

The ship maneuvers, fires, and even hits its target, but the last shot of the Communications Officers drone causes the ship to burst into flames and hurtle towards the ground.

The best option is to split up. The bot rushes to snatch an unknown but clearly valuable resource from the enemy's servo, while you are left alone with the suddenly awakened blind and deaf Laserbeak and Rafael on the link.

Your limbs desperately press the drone into the ground while you hold out hope that the virus will take the Decepticons by surprise and the kid backs up your faith. You are distracted from the human cub speaking into the audio sensor by a strange hum approaching behind you, and you turn around.

The optics widen and the servos themselves let the metal bird flail about in panic, taking off and falling back into the dirt with no sense of space or time. The flock of creatures in the sky with the sickening sound of a battle scream was rapidly approaching and it was not difficult to identify the insecticons with horror, dozens of individuals, frenzied and ready to attack.

With your voice and limbs shaking, you tell your friends on the other side of the call of your extreme predicament and the green funnel of the Earth Bridge that opened up not far from you didn't take long.

Forgetting about the artifact and Laserbeak by Unicron, you rush towards your mentor, stumbling over your own peds, falling and resuming your run, but a huge insect crashes into you at frame flight speed, knocking you away from the portal, and you shriek in surprise and pain, rolling on the dirt next to the communicator's drone.

Unable to get up from such a powerful collision, you wheeze, try to at least crawl toward the medic's screams, and fall faceplate into the ground, blacking out.

Part 4 will be out tonight.

[fridaysmind]

I'm loving your yan!starscream so much!!!! I love the way you write star's pov of the situation And oooo reader reminding him of someone he knows??? Sweet!!! Can't wait for chapter 2 !💗💗

Yandere!Starscream x Autobot!Reader

Chapter 2

(Chapter 1 is here)

TYSM!!💗💗 GN!Reader; Obsession; A departure from the canon I'm not a native speaker! TW! PTSD; Religiosity; Fighting; Memories of war

You rub the back of your head, gently touching the sore spot where the Doctor had stabbed you. Ratchet is clearly wasting his cybernerves, you were acting strictly Autobot code. Yes, the weapon pointed at your faceplate was not a pleasant circumstance on Starscream's part, but you did your job and healed the wounded mech! But it didn't hurt any less...

When you leave the medbay, the rest of the team already knows why you've earned their doctor's disfavor. Bumblebee and Arcee laughed at you for managing to waste their resources and not even getting anything of value in return. It's not out of spite, you know they're good guys and marvelous warriors, but the taunts made the optic itself droop with shame. You discreetly leave to come to your senses and relax after a hard shift. Another evening at the Autobot base goes smoothly.

***

It was hard to reload, though it was one of the few nights he'd had without nightmares. There were no gunshots, no smell of burnt metal, no huge gray hands trying to rip his spark out of his breastplates, but he was haunted by something else, something new. Strange thoughts, desires, and a feeling of lack of something were flowing through his status reports, and it was getting tiresome.

Starscream devoted many hours after his sluggish awakening to searching for any information about you. Your photos, documents, and any available wartime reports where you were even briefly mentioned were downloaded onto the abandoned ship's occasionally hovering computer.

Nothing.

It was obvious that you were the problem, you did something. But nowhere is there anything even slightly suggestive of the possibility of hypnosis or any other mind subjugation on your part. In the empty room, Starscream nodded to himself. No doubt, while you were treating him, you injected something his sensors didn't recognize or discreetly implanted a chip.

How could he have fallen for such a simple trick, would you really have treated him without asking for something in return, while making small talk? No, of course not. Even if you're an “honorable” autobot, it's not something anyone on your team would do. But he's smarter than that, and he'll make you make things right.

As he finished his thoughts, Starscream received a new alert about the hull's running out of energon.

Once again, the search for energon stretched on for far too long, and the soiled seeker felt his irritation growing more and more. Piece by piece, the sky-blue crystals, so beautiful in the hungry's eyes, had accumulated in sufficient quantity to allow him to live a little longer.

Is this it? The life he deserved? Digging up scraps, making ends meet? Is this what he came all this way for? Sleepless cycles in the academy, research, the fall of Vos and the many sacrifices, this was not the life he had dreamed of...

A noise outside distracted him from his thoughts. The sounds of blows that had already embedded themselves into the deepest parts of his helmet had become not just familiar, but the only sound he could distinguish from a great distance without a hitch. Every inch of his body tensed.

And dust, dust, dust. Dust from what used to be life. There's so much of it, it's impossible to ventilate in peace. The pain in the helmet, the pain outside, the pain inside. The smell of death and melting, the smell of dead hopes. Nothing sacred left in any of them.

With a wave of his helmet, Starscream shakes off his panic and cautiously approaches the exit, watching the two warriors dancing in battle. Breakdown and... that green one... Clawed into each other. Why here? Why right now? Mech prayed that he could get past those two and go unnoticed.

As he worked out the perfect escape plan, Starscream noticed the swarming to the side. Just a fraction of a second, and he rushed faster than lightning in your direction, dropping almost every resource as you tried to dig into the hard ground behind the vegetation.

With a snarl, he literally slams into your body, and both of your frames fall with inertia, sliding down the slope. His fingers around you unclench, in an attempt to stop the motion, and you brake on the flat surface almost at the cliff's edge.

“Are you out of your mind?” the grill in your helmet spits out the ground with a jet of air as you rise, yelling at him.

“Quite possibly, and you're responsible for it!”

Abruptly, Breakdown's body flies out from behind the trees, falling right on top of the two of you, interrupting the dialog, forcing you to run to the cobblestones to one side. The Decepticon lands with a lurch and the surface beneath you shakes from his weight. Even though he has noticed the other two cybertronians, he pays no attention, trying to get up and continue the fight.

Cooling the processor you turn to the seeker with an angry face, but he speaks first:

“What did you inject me with?” and in response to his question you only squint in incomprehension.

“Huh?”

“Don't play dumb, bot, I know you did something!"Starscream yells and there's no more energy to keep from rolling your eyes in annoyance.

“Suppose, just suppose I genuinely don't know what you mean.”

“You injected or sewed something into my protoform, you idiot. I can't sleep because of you, I can't work because of you, it's like I'm losing touch with my frame because I don't feel it-”

Some object flew over your helmets so close that you pressed your palm against his forehead reflexively and pressed his back into the stone.

Time around him seemed to slow down, the frightening sound of battle fading into the farthest background, almost subsiding. A single touch made a current run through all the circuits and the scarlet optics go out as he exhaled and lowered his twitching wings in pleasure. The heaviness, the doubt, everything leaves his helmet with that long exhale and the realization almost blinds his mind. The mech slowly shifts his gaze to the Autobot that, turned to him by the back of the head, barely peeks out from its general hiding place.

As if seeing you for the first time, as if he hadn't been looking at images of you all morning, he scrutinizes every little thing, every notch and detail.

The sacred writings of Vos insisted that one day, when all things on Cybertron were dark, someone unremarkable would appear. A seemingly ordinary formers would change history and bring forth a new age. Starscream buzzed all the audiosensors to his trine, truly believing that it was the eloquent silver miner who fit all the verses of the ancient book. And they trusted him.

For nothing, as it turned out.

It took a long time for any faith in the warlord's chosenness was wiped away. The energon of the innocent bots and cons had become embedded in every atom of the frame and was ghosted even after a trip to the washrooms. But what was the point of stopping, it would never get cleaner. Where is it, the promised victory and the new age of Cybertron?

But the momentary touch of your limbs made the spark calm down. He felt the wounds deep within his essence suddenly heal. Thoughts circulating over and over, Starscream grinned to himself.

“Is this a hint from the sky after all?” he says the words very quietly, you don't even turn in his direction and he clenches his long claws around your wrist.

Your body jumps at the unexpected touch and you turn sharply toward the mech, and the one without raising his optics at you, absolutely suddenly presses the back of your palm against his own cheek.

Not quite sure how to react, your gaze runs all over the landscape ahead, back to the blissfully sighing seeker, and nervously moves to the landscape again.

“Remember what we discussed yesterday? About the end of the war?”

Oh, yeah, you remember. For a moment, you thought Starscream was just a former like the rest of you, desperate to just go home and get on with normal active. You nod, hoping he sees the movement of your helmet. Seeker continues:

“He's not going to agree, yeah? All he wants is more wrecks and won't stop until he loses everything...”

“Are you sure you're in an adequate state?” you turn to him with a question. Silence in response. The Seeker let go of your limb and suddenly began to rise.

“Yes, now I do.” Starscream sounded so confident and calm now, as if he wasn't the one who'd recently screamed at you like a hysterical, toppling you down a slope.

“So many millions of years I was blind, and then ashamed of my own blindness, trying to forget everything and at least just crawl to the end of this horror.” the seeker paid no attention to your faceplate wrinkled in incomprehension of what was happening. “I will not miss that sign. The end of all things must come!”

He suddenly swiped the tips of his claws across the top of your head and, just like last time, transformed and soared into the sky.

*** “And then he said he had to end it all. Whatever that means...”

“It can't mean anything good a priori” Arcee, shakes her head unhappily and you agree with her opinion.

After your story, the whole team murmurs in thought and only Ratchet turns from the monitor to face you all for the first time ever.

“Let's hope he ends it all by shooting himself in the helmet.” the silence in the room became extremely loud after his phrase. Even the humming of electricity stopped for a while. Everyone on the base, including the children, looked at the medic in amazement, and the medic looked back at everyone in confusion.

“What other options are there?” the doctor tried to defend himself. “He's not going to act like a hero and win the war single-handedly just because something stung his helmet, is he?”

You shrug and the others continued to think, putting forward possible options, but their words were no longer reaching your audiosensors.

Thoughts of everything that was happening swirled and swirled in your processor, never stopping for a second. The team had only heard about the whole situation, but they hadn't seen it. They don't know how strangely insane Starscream's optics have become.

[fridaysmind]

Yandere!Starscream x Autobot!Reader

Chapter 1

GN!Reader; Yandere is in the early stages, a departure from canon. I hope you're like it! TW! Mentions of war and death, rough treatment (with Star, of course)

The sun disappeared over the horizon, its path across the firmament reminded only of the remnants of its escaping rays.

Starscream's optics did not dignify the beauty of the organic planet, focused on the painful wound in side. Seeker sent a request for help to the Autobot medic, not wanting to even think about one polished red mech, but there was no response.

It was getting harder and harder to ventilate, space was beginning to blur when a cracking sound was heard off to the side of the lying Starscream. With a nervous shriek, he turned his helmet lightning fast toward the noise and your gazes collided.

The scarlet mark on your chest almost blinding him, the former Decepticon recognized your faceplate with difficulty. Seeing junior Autobot medical personnel is such a rarity. Ratchet appears on the battlefield once every eternity, and Starscream had seen you, their aide, only on screen.

Young features without a single scar, clean frame with hardly noticeable scuffs, and only tired optics gave away experience in this endless slaughter. You were sent to help, weren't you?

“Oh, what are you doing here?”

No. You were clearly just passing through. Starscream's wings, who was rapidly losing precious energon, drooped in helplessness. He expected you to walk away indifferently or mock him, but as you took quick steps toward him, Starscream mustered the will to transform his fist into a cannon and point the trembling limb in your direction. You raise your palms, asking him to calm down.

“I merely wish to help you, you're losing energon.”

“I notice it without you, genius!” Starscream reacts to everything overly emotional again. “Anyway, I've already asked your medic for help.”

You smile strainedly in response, trying not to bring the Decepticon down. You're already mentally regretting starting this conversation in the first place.

“Fine, but you won't mind if I provide first aid before he examines you, will you? To conserve power reserves and prevent possible rusting. Everything will be under your supervision.”

It didn't take him long, looking at you in disbelief, to agree. And here you both are, in a desolate area, with only the sound of screeching birds in the distance. Starscream squinted as he watched you carefully examine the wound, reaching into the first aid kit and pulling out what you needed, his figure slowly relaxing even as he continued to hold the twitching weapon in your direction.

You commented on the need for painkillers, ignoring his disgruntled look. The clean instrument, the new ampule opened in front of him, nothing made him stop questioning. He doesn't want to argue, because he might scare you off and not get any help at all, but he's not about to good-naturedly trust dubious liquids. As you pulled out the drug and prepared to inject it, you instantly felt the warmth of the muzzle against your forehead.

“Don't do anything stupid.”

The drug was successfully administered and the systems confirmed the quality composition, blocking pain signals.

“What did you get that wound from? It's pretty deep” you somewhat awkwardly try to dilute this atmosphere with some words. The self-contained seeker sputtered very quickly.

“Ah, I bet you'll never guess how that happened...”

Perhaps he should have thought about what information or benefit he could provide in return, but the processor was focused on the dialog, and on your soft touch that almost doesn't hurt, the smooth movements of your fingers, and your pleasant voice... is it the medication doing that?

You gradually finished all the work, but Starscream's message for help went unread, and he guessed without difficulty that Ratchet wasn't coming. It didn't surprise and hardly upset him. Millions upon millions of years had made his used to such a fate, used to never waiting for an outstretched hand.

The Seeker gently squirmed under your scrutiny, all discomfort receding and for a second the mech thought it was not just strange, but truly shockingly well done.

At the same time you're answering messages from a medic who lost you, on the verge of spark collapse.

Just writing that you were near Starscream was enough to cause a green portal funnel to open a second later, and an unfriendly medic to run out of it. Seeing the seeker's hand transformed into a cannon was enough to make Ratchet seize with hot anger.

“Get away from that flying parasite immediately.” The medic's expression was once again expressionless, pointing the blade in your patient's direction.

“That flying parasite can hear you just fine, you single-celled rusty!”

Their aggressive bickering was gaining momentum, so you just had to get in between the two of them, and while you turned the doctor's attention to yourself, Starscream gladly stopped the whole circus by simply transforming and soaring into the sky. Ratchet sighed heavily and shifted his menacing gaze from the departing Starscream to you. There's a serious conversation waiting for you at the base.

***

It took an extremely long time to return to the Harbinger, Starscream flying away from your rendezvous point too reluctantly. The processor was busy scrolling through the memories of the past day, especially clinging to the details of the last half hour. Your appearance in the setting sun, your careful gaze examining his wounded body as if with genuine concern, your peaceful voice and touch, touch, touch.

It was beginning to irritate him, who were you to sit in his head anyway? Starscream walked through every available room of the abandoned ship, tried to occupy himself with observations and grand plans of conquering all of Cybertron, but fatigue and hunger added to the mix, so with a sour expression on his face he just laid down on the sleeping platform, preparing to recharge.

No matter how much he tried to rest, his thoughts kept making his helmet heavier and heavier.

The pain still lingers in his memory, the sharp pain of the aftermath of the battle. Another city of formerly beautiful Cybertron had not survived, Autobots be damned. The sky has been completely consumed by darkness, buildings completely destroyed, floors engulfed in fire, street decorations reduced to ashes, and innocent citizens scattered here and there on roads and parks, with charred bodies and frozen emotions of horror and grief on the faceplate. It is partly a joy to return to Nemesis and hide one's gaze from this picture.

But not the joy of seeing familiar faces again.

Knockout turns curiously toward the door as the wounded Starscream steps inside, his interest replaced with all too obvious disappointment. Of course, the mech doesn't even try to hide the fact that he's not happy to see him. Despite his proven professionalism, it's as if every movement of his servo is deliberately making him uncomfortable again and again. The hot tool crashes into the space between the armor, burning the seeker and he cries out, pushing back with his whole body.

“Is it so hard to...not make it uncomfortable?” Starscream growls irritably, glaring at the bright red medic as he looks almost insulted.

“This is war, not role-playing, am I obligated to babysit?” the doctor raises his voice at the superior without fear, fearing nothing at all. “There isn't much painkiller left, we need to save up.”

Of course, he wouldn't behave so boldly with his Lord. It seems that permissiveness towards the commander in chief is becoming something of a trend. And Starscream knows the founder of that fashion, boldly implying that it is impermissible to cross anyone but a seeker. Bastards, but there's no energy to think of resisting the system.

As Knockout set all the instruments aside, silently declaring the end of aid, Starscream looked back at the hastily made stitches with displeasure.

“You're not going to, like, finish your work?” the growl turned to an impatient hiss. The lack of recharging multiple cycles was doing its job. He must hold his temper, he must. He is Vos' heir, he has a duty to hold himself with dignity.

“You just got back from a battle where our side lost?” the scarlet transformer didn't wait for an answer. “Fine, then what's the point of carefully caulking everything but the vital if you're going to be flying around the room like a ball right now?”

Something about those words, spoken so indifferently and mockingly, struck a cybernerve. Starscream stared at the doctor standing back, unable to find the words to describe his defeat. Long claws gripped the metal of the medical bunk until it creaked.

Standing up so abruptly that his optics darkened in front of him, the commander dashed for the exit, ignoring all pain, only to escape from that feeling of humiliation again.

The Seeker, with a heaviness beneath his breastplates, swallowed and rolled over onto his other side.

Thoughts returned to your lithe body, colored by the rays of the sun receding over the horizon. Your fingers move quickly, crisp, but the treatment is almost lulling. You hum in thought, pull out the last vial of medicine for someone from another faction, and work on his frame with a look that almost makes Starscream believe you care. And your optics. As is the Autobots' custom, blue. But despite the fatigue, there was still a curiosity lurking in them, and all of it together seemed to echo in the very depths of his processor, awakening hazy memories of someone dear and close to him from the past.

About someone who always wanted to learn new things again and again on expeditions, someone whose curiosity and craving for knowledge had extinguished the spark. Someone whose name he promised not to remember...

No, he's definitely going crazy.

[fridaysmind]

Seekers trine x tf!reader

(Birdformers AU)

This art that gave me inspiration belongs to @jadeyuuzi, thank you SM! I'm sorry, I hope you don't mind using your art? Femme!reader, transformer!reader, trine, mating season, comfort, headcanons, AU

The seekers have begun their mating season. Many of them started to clean their feathers en masse and create nests out of improvised materials from the planet Earth. On the list of those preparing for the event was the Decepticons' main trine. 

In which pair they were interested in was not yet known and now many cons were talking about it, suggesting possible suitors.

The interest of all three seekers was directed in your direction, isn't that lucky? Imagine if they had decided to start fighting over you? Oh, it would clearly have been a terrible massacre. Skywarp has been cruelly pranking both his brothers and the other Transformers just for fun, and now just imagine what he'd do if he had to get rid of his competition in earnest. Luckily for all of Nemesis, they banded together for a common goal, banded together to get you.

You didn't have a mate at all during this period. Even those previously interested seemed to have gone somewhere. But you weren't sad about it, you spent your quiet days in beautiful places, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the wind on your soft feathers. 

You don't notice the seekers hiding behind tree trunks, drooling profusely at the sheen of your body.

“Isn't that the most adorable creature in the world...?”

“By Primus, I can smell the lovely scent of that body right from here.”

“TC, Warp, shut up, she can hear you!"

Your helmet turns in their direction and the two seekers instantly flush in opposite directions, leaving poor Thundercracker looking foolishly out from behind a tree while the feathers of his quickly departing brothers fall from above. You came a little closer, interested. Out of nervousness, he broke the branch he was holding onto and found nothing better to do than awkwardly hold it out to you.

He wanted to dissolve and disappear when you chuckled and took the branch in your servos, your limbs touching.

“For me? How sweet of you.”

He smiled nervously, took a step back, and soared into the sky following his brothers. Back at their shared dwelling, TC was faced with the grumbling of his brothers.

“This isn't fair!” Warp unfolded the cushions with sudden movements, setting everything up inside the new nest. “Why on earth would you be the first to give something?”

“I wasn't trying to, it just happened and it's only a stick. Starscream, tell him!”

The trine leader patted his wings unhappily as he looked at Thunder's blue frame and sighed. The Seekers had agreed that they wouldn't argue and would just finish setting up the nest, for them and your adorable little figure.

***

You walked on your way, trying to find the source of the pleasant smell, assuming that somewhere nearby was a flower field or something, but you came across a very large sized nest. Smooth, neat, clearly made with diligence and talented fingers, could this really have been built by a single Transformer? 

“This is clearly built for some amazing femme. Is she a queen?”

You whisper and step closer, a little afraid of the wrath of the nest's inhabitants. Only a small squeak escapes you before you are quite suddenly pulled inside.

You regain balance and are confronted by a pair of burning red optics. And another. And another. A wave of anxiety runs down your spine, until a formers across from you speak in the semi-darkness.

“Fear not, we mean you no harm.” the voice in front of you is quiet, calm, and very familiar. Your left palm is gently squeezed, stroking your fingers with care, the inside of the nest smells pleasant. The words of the first are picked up by a former on your right.

“That's right, stay with us, we'll take good care of you.”

You adjust your vision in the dark and finally see the owners of the nest. The main trine of the Decepticons. Your fingers are gently stroking Thundercracker, Skywarp is examining your body from afar with a hungry smile, and the leader of their trine, Starscream, stands nearby. They each spread their wings proudly, posing especially for you and Thunder pulls your servo, heading towards the pile of pillows.

“Please sit down.”

He sits down himself and settles you on a soft surface until you find words.

The other Seekers come over very quickly and sit down next to you, surrounding your figure on all sides.

Skywarp lies down on the belly plates and props his helmet up with his hands, looking at you with amusement and satisfaction. You shift your gaze from him to the stirring Starscream to the side as he turns to you with a small cube of energon.

“This place is built specifically for us and you. Tell me, do you agree to be our couple during this days?” along with his words, spoken in a voice sweet as honey, he holds out the prized treat to you.

The liquid in the cube splashes tantalizingly against the walls. You run your eyes over each of them, they almost eat you with their optics and you feel it's a more than satisfying position. Your lips stretch in a soft smile as the treat passes into your hands and disappears into your mouth. You are staying.

***

Starscream takes genuine pleasure in running his fingers over the feathers on your wings, brushing them with a special trepidation, sometimes running them over the most sensitive areas with tantalizing slowness. You can stare shyly into the void, or close your eyes and rest, and so sometimes you don't notice the trine leader looking at you with half-closed optics and a smile of pleasure. He burns the back of your head with his gaze, strokes your shoulders, presses you against him, grinning at something and then releases you again to stroke your wings. The poor guy has a wild tactile hunger, you are his comfort, let him have some more of that sweetness. In sleep, Starscream's multi-emotional face smooths, softens, and seems to grow kinder. His lips are slightly ajar, and he sniffles, mumbling something, making the rest of the trine smile. And now you are, too.

Skywarp is too active, both of his brothers are scared to imagine what goes on in his head. He sniffs you so often and says it's the best smell in his asset, it's getting uncomfortable. You woke up in the middle of the night once when he was... well... staring at you silently in the dark. 

And he bites. And he tried to lick your fingers, quite successfully, by the way. And how can we forget his love of jokes? You're a small, sweet, adorable little bird that he wouldn't even jokingly push you off a steep cliff, but he's happy to suddenly walk through the wall of your nest and scare you. Luckily, his energy runs low throughout the day, and he curls up into a ball at your feet pretty quickly and shuts down.

Thundercracker, coming in from a long shift, loves to cuddle with you. He burrows his face between your shoulder and neck, whispering affectionate nicknames, and just relaxes with your body in his arms. He brings you shells, interestingly shaped rocks, flowers, and curious human bling that he can't find a use for in any way. He's a bit of a caretaker. On his own, he puts snacks in your mouth, kisses the top of your head, inquires about your condition and comfort. He loves having his back scratched, so he projects this onto you, often giving you sudden pleasure. Please scratch his back too, you have such beautiful hands and delightful fingers, he would die of happiness!

[fridaysmind]

Girls, I can't get the seekers trine dancing to Lady Gaga's “Abracadabra” out of my head. Help!!!

[fridaysmind]

Shifting priorities

The Doctor x reader (platonic)

Okay, I've only written on Transformers, but seeing the new installment of PPT just made me smile and sit down to write. I love the scientist characters too much. Warning: mention of organs and violent experiments, possible spoilers. If you want me to write you something, feel free to request it!

Yes. Yes, he knows no mercy, yes, he's ruthless and cruel. So what? If even half the employees in this company were as logical, goal-oriented, the greatest things were created long ago. If that snot-nosed jerk Ludwig, with his inspirational speeches and penetratingly understanding gaze, would stop acting like a softy, immortality would not be a dream, but a matter of money. Sure, these assholes would be sure to talk about the good for the world, but who gives a damn? They don't understand anything at all, make heroes out of themselves, sympathize, pity, as if they are not the ones watching bloody experiments on cameras, as if they are not the ones keeping living corpses in cages without food

Let any of them call Sawyer an asshole, so be it, but he was honest enough, at least with himself. He knew who he was and didn't try to appear different.

Some of the employees laughed at him when he brought you, a kid, into his cleanest (and relatively) office for notes and paperwork. They threw jokes about his demotion to babysitter or his willingness to leave his job and go into fatherhood. The doctor had no trouble putting them in their place.

They don't understand because of their own feeble-mindedness, Sawyer says to himself, looking down into your big, overly intelligent eyes. He took this kid away, like finding a diamond in a pile of dirt, sand, and debris. He knew those test results, he knew that communication style. It was hard not to recognize himself in your face. A kind of little genius who'd been so lucky to get into the orphanage.

You're definitely different from the other kids, you don't look at him like he's the last hope, like you're a yard dog, you don't act like a nasty snotty brat, none of that. But he sees respect, he sees that one genius recognizes and acknowledges another and it rubs off on his ego. You laboriously write something out of his study guides by the light of a desk lamp, read his notes, speak of him to others with reverence, causing him something resembling a surge of pride.

Kids are always too curious, especially the smart ones, and you were out of the question. Of course you did sneak in during one of his experiments. He can blame himself for not locking the door. He could, yes, but he won't. Another body opened up before him like a flower bud, not moving as he carefully separated the marrow with a scalpel and as your stupid face crawled out from the other side of the bunk, making him shriek in fright.

He was almost on the verge of a breakdown, it had all started out so well, now he'd have to either keep you on a leash or get rid of you altogether, the kids can't live with themselves after a sight like that!

But oh, oh, he remembered why he chose you. Staring emotionlessly at the pale face of the girl you had definitely previously known, you point a finger towards her head asking to see the actual brain. He calms down in an instant, noting to himself again what a genius he is for discerning the right specimen.

As the doctor continues to poke around inside the children, you sketch out cerebral gyrus in your notebook, interjecting now and then about the purpose and name of certain parts of the large hemispheres of the brain. Wonderful child…

As the years of his work go by, you grow up. You enjoy interacting with experiment 1166, stroking his colorful fur, throwing him things to bring back. You're aware of his human nature, as well as many other things, but you remain as he chose you to be–cold and indifferent.

The Doctor notes some signs of savagery in you, very slight, but that's not surprising when a child grows up underground, in the company of adults, experiments, and beast-like unintelligent creatures. You can survive it.

***

His first reaction when he wakes up, immobilized, split into pieces and placed in the damn machine–worrying about himself. Not that it's unexpected. He remembers you pretty quickly, too. Where are you, where is his favorite apprentice? He asks questions, demands answers, threatens, but a short 'run away' is all he gets in response.

Immersed in darkness and silence, abandoned by traitors who only turn when they need his brainpower, he thinks of you. You're still not as bright as he is, but your company was much more pleasant than this one. Did you just run away, leaving him alone? You don't think of him even after all these years together? You grew up around him, he taught you so many things that he knew himself, didn't you get attached?

What a silly thing to say, he doesn't get attached, and you're so much like him that you're hardly different in this. Sawyer can't help but feel something unpleasant at the thought. Abandoned, all traitors and all abandoned him!

***

The ray of light in this prison was your sudden voice. He thought he had lost his mind, he mean even more, but no, you were definitely here, the cameras didn't lie. He couldn't help but scare you a couple times, just for fun, understand the old man, he was so bored here! But he helps you get to him, genuinely happy to be able to socialize again. No, he hasn't become like those soft-spoken idiots in the factory, it's just nice to talk to a decent person, that's all.

You stay by his side survived by nothing short of a miracle when the Prototype himself visits the Doctor after the Hour of Joy. They need his mind, they need his intelligence and knowledge. All that, but not you.

Sawyer almost squeals, screaming that he will not help them under any circumstances if they touch such a marvelous specimen, he is uncompromising, unafraid of the threats of a huge creature that makes even your mouth dry up with a semblance of worry.

You're staying, alive again by a miracle. and under strict surveillance by everyone. No one here trusts you, nor will they. You don't expect them to be kind, though.

The Prototype has warned Sawyer that your feeding is only the Doctor's own responsibility and goes into the shadows. You are left alone with each other, simultaneously tongue clucking and hissing the same curse. Everyone here is such an asshole.

[fridaysmind]

"Something really worthwhile"

Bishoujo!Starscream x reader

Has anyone else written work with her? I haven't seen it, I hope I'm the first, *giggles*. English is not my native language, sorry

The warm wind of the desert city lightly develops your hair. A simple pencil leaves its mark on the paper as you sit on a huge cobblestone and try to capture the mountains and sand. Even at this time of year, the city is still warm. The shade of a withered tree protects your top from overheating as you hear the long-awaited clack of heels behind you.

“Bang!” Long, thin fingers fell sharply on your shoulders, making you involuntarily flinch. And a woman's laughter rang out behind you. “Fool, you fell at the hands of the magnificent Starscream because of your carelessness!”

She takes two steps around you and looks you up and down with the same familiar smirk. You can't tear your gaze away from her ruddy cheeks and long black lashes.

“Good morning to you too, birdie” you reach out your hand to squeeze her palm, covered in blue glove fabric, and leave a kiss on the back of it. Lifting your gaze back up you notice a slightly softened look, quickly hidden behind a mask of frown.

“You know, you could have waited for me not too far from a convenient place to land the plane, I'm actually a lady in heels!”

You apologize in response to her words, offering to sit in the shade and cool off.

Her slender legs are thrown over your lap as she eagerly drinks the slightly sun-warmed water from your bottle. A single drop drips from the corner of her mouth, and you watch intently as the clear liquid slides from her chin and drips under her clothes. Lifting your gaze back to her face, you are confronted with her squint and smirk, making you look away. Starscream devours you with a stare as you look anywhere but at her. No, darling, that won't do.

You flinch for the second time that day as she approaches and wraps her arms around your neck. The girl's soft cheek presses against yours and you smell the pleasant scent coming from her body. Yes, even those not in the Decepticons know how too damn particular she and her sisters are.

“You dare ignore me and my superiority?” she says softly, almost in a whisper, and you're embarrassed. Why does she have to be like this?

“No, it's just that you're…close.”

“Not yet.” her breath is scalding.

Oh, she's starting those games again.

“Do you want me to draw you again?”

You're a little funny by the way her lips pout in response to your tactical retreat, once again, but she doesn't want to object to the idea.

Putting her foot on her leg and wiggling one, she sits, thinking about something and looking up into the clear blue sky. You are far, far away from the level of a fine artist, but the desire to draw, not photograph, her inexplicable beauty was irresistible. Thanks to her, you've improved your skills considerably, though so far you've been getting…well, it could be better.

“You're considerably lucky.”

Your hand froze over the paper and you met her gaze, interjecting:

“Excuse me, in what way exactly?”

She fixes her hair and smiles smugly.

“You got something really worthwhile in your life, like me.”

[fridaysmind]

IDW Starscream x reader part 2 (end)

Just over a week without writing and already someone looking for me, lol. Scenario: Your lover has chosen someone else. Or did it just seem that way to you? Part 1 right here!

They had become much friendlier in recent days. The two of them used to have a hard time communicating, like hissing through dentoplates at each other. Now he's summoning her to his private office, giving you the task of keeping away from the place for the fourth time in a row.

Starscream is perpetually busy, rarely responds to your messages, and generally stays out of sight. Neither does Windblade. And here she is, snacking in the common room and happily making small talk with you. Despite the strength of all your inner acrimony towards your direct competitor, you good-naturedly discussed many things until you smoothly moved on to the topic of falling in love.

"Love is dedicated to books, poems, paintings, not only in our culture, on almost every planet, it's so adorable in my opinion, have you ever been in love with someone?" and Windblade stammered at your question.

Sipping from her cube and wiping a drop of fresh energon from her lips with an elegant movement of her slender fingers, she smiled meekly, examining the blue liquid with half-closed optics. It's enchanting…is this what you look like from the outside when you're suddenly immersed in dreams of your lover's caressing touch? But Windblade raised the gaze of her optic to you, surprising the sudden tenderness in it.

"You know, I think you'll understand me, I so need to tell someone at least, it's hard to keep it to myself."

With an intriguing start, she set the container on the surface of the metal table, folded her arms and coughed.

"I wasn't planning on falling in love at all. It's scary with the unknown, but there's nothing like it. It's like weightlessness spreads through my frame from one glimpse of expensive optics. I'd put the whole world to the servos just for one beautiful smile, you know?" she looks away as she speaks, then she burns you with that tenderness again and you feel that sadness come up to your spark.

You understand. Oh, how much you understand her words. How many nights you've spent with him together, dreaming of capturing his lips, how much you wish his optics, his wings, his cockpit, everything, belonged to you alone. And you see not just a femme across from you, but your own reflection, realizing that the anger is receding.

You think Starscream knows what's best for him. How can you hate her now, after such a confession? So tender and sincere. Your upper limb reaches out, wrapping around her wrist.

"I understand you more than anyone. That someone is extremely lucky to be loved by you out of all the applicants. Nothing could be more beautiful than love, especially when it's so pure." and you smile kindly at each other.

It wasn't long after your dialog before the formers at court began to whisper that the leader of Cybertron was preparing to choose his mate. You smiled sadly at these rumors, leaning back against the corridor wall at times, desperately imagining what these guys were saying about him and you. You've already accepted a lot of things as they are, Starscream isn't just some mech. It is written into the very culture of the seekers that it is a disgrace to associate and breed with the wingless. How foolish of you to even think that the chief representative of Vos would go against tradition. But the wings are the only problem, aren't they? If you had another pair of limbs on your back, surely he'd consider you a contender? You'd hope so. Life and routine are getting harder every day, your meals and recharges have decreased, and the worries have taken their toll on your health.

After many cycles, Starscream finally made time for you. As soon as you bumped into each other in the corridor, he gave you a glance and, frowning, asked you how you were feeling. You didn't seem to look well due to stress and didn't even notice, but you brushed off his questions, citing work and a little sickness. His red optics stared back at you in concern.

"Are you sure you don't need to see a doctor? You have the best doctors on this planet at your disposal, any ailment will be cured in no time, just snap your beautiful fingers dear" his voice is so sweet, like a hot treat outside in the cold cities of the planet. Will this bird sing to someone else and not to you? You nodded negatively.

"I'm feeling much better now, there's nothing to worry about, was there something you wanted to discuss with me?"

Seeker abruptly remembered why he had come, his wings abruptly rising and falling back to their original place.

"Yes, that's right!" he shook his frame slightly and smiled triumphantly.

"There's a special event coming up, one of the most important events in my life, and not just mine. I vitally need your presence, I've already sent you an invitation with the date, please prepare yourself properly," he squinted at your body, causing the embarrassment already frozen from the long lack of attention. "There won't be many formers there, but I really want everything to marvel in beauty at this moment. No refusals accepted, I won't hold the meeting without you!"

He didn't say more to you, so smoothly passed you onward, like a swan floating on the surface of the water, and disappeared into the long corridors. Taking a deep breath and exhaling heavily, you opened the invitation on the datapad. The venue, the date, the time, everything was in place. The rest of the information, even if it was a little more specific, was simply missing, but maybe it was for the best.

A fashion and beauty figure once said: "The dimmer your spark, the brighter your polish should shine." And you're going to stick to that idea right now. You are, for the first time in a long time, finally taking an oil bath. Hot, almost scalding hot. As if punishing yourself for something, you sink into it up to the top of your helmet and sit up straight again, removing the excess from your faceplate. Your preparation for the event is meticulous. Every curve, every notch, every detail is perfect. From the reflection, a fresh and shiny you stares back at you. Examining yourself from every angle, you felt the spark ache again, but you didn't let it fill your processor any further.

You're here. The last obstacle before the inevitable is the iron door. One step and the mechanism will work, automatically opening the passage further. Ventilating again, it's time to go in, you can't be late.

The small room is perfectly cleaned, smelling almost sterile. The lighting is spotty, atmospheric, and there are shiny decorations on the walls.

The first thing you see is Windblade. Standing next to her is Chromia, excited a little. Primus, how long has it been since you've seen her? The last thing you notice is Starscream at the window, watching the passing traffic, the burning lights of the high-rises, and the glitter of the first stars appearing in the sky. The view really is beautiful, and you're not just talking about Cybertron behind the glass.

You stand up next to two friends. A thought comes to your helmet. Maybe he and Windblade called each best friend as a witness. Of course. Are you really going to watch your nightmare come true?

Mech turns gracefully towards the three of you, the city lights softly illuminating his figure from behind as he smiles. Not a smirk, not a grimace, no, it is an unaccustomed soft curve that speaks of genuine pleasure. You stare at his figure as if hypnotized. Reminiscent of your best dreams, Starscream thrusts his manipulator with an open palm in your direction and your optics soften, but there is no counter-movement on your part.

You were brought out of your trance by a nudge to your shoulder. You turned your helmet to the side in surprise, Chromia's faceplate opposite clearly expressing mockery.

"Come on, did you fall asleep?"

Your consciousness returned to you, you blinked in incomprehension. What? You have to come up?

Still in the same incomprehension, you place your manipulator in his and seeker’s fingers wrap around yours like a wild vine, sending a stuttering vent. Your optics collide.

"There are too many things I wish I could say them to you, and I will certainly say them. Right now, I just want to express my gratitude for all the many millions of years you've been my most reliable shoulder. Of course, I'd be ruler of Cybertron without the support," Starscream smugly ran his palm across the top of his helmet, causing Chromia's optics to roll up. And you silently stare at him, at his facial expressions, at the optics burning brighter and dimmer, trying to figure out where he's going with this. "But with you, things have not only gotten easier, they've gotten considerably more pleasant. Rewinding the long snot, I'll finally ask already, are you willing to be the conjunx of this planet's magnificent leader?"

Silence. Mouth wide open, fingers trembling, your processor refusing to analyze the meaning of his words. Your gaze swings between everyone in the room, they look amused by your reaction. Moisture approaches your optics as you cover the bottom of your faceplate with both hands and shake your head negatively in disbelief. Starscream's wings droop in fear, do you refuse?!

"N-no…?"

With the first drops already rolling down your cheeks, you throw yourself around his neck, pressing your cheek against his breastplates and almost choking with happiness and tears, causing Starscream to exhale in relief and stroke your back. You whisper yes to him, and again. And again you say 'yes' as those present clap happily. You caress yourself against him like a sun-warmed cat. Is it real? Does he love you? Does he really love you? You smile and can't stop babbling 'yes, of course yes'.

"But why…" you sobbed, turning to the femmes. "…were you invited too?"

"I wish I knew why I'm here…" Chromia shrugs in response to your question.

"Because I have a similar offer for you." Windblade takes her friend's faceplate with both manipulators, and presses his lips to hers in a kiss, startling both her and you. The puzzle in your helmet comes completely together and your lips stretch into a bright, happy smile.

Warm, long fingers grip your chin as Starscream wipes away the clear marks on your cheeks and gives you your first kiss. A sweet feeling blossoms in your spark as your breastplates make contact and your manipulators wrap around his graceful neck. All pain and all fear have left your frame, you ventilate frantically, swearing to Primus that you will give him to no one now.

And let the ritual of joining sparks be broadcast to every corner of the world, let everyone know that you finally belong together

@skittyhugger, impatient bunny

@alexandraibis, lover of beauty

[fridaysmind]

IDW Starscream x reader

This got me so interested that I lost sleep and just started writing, falling asleep every 20 minutes, lol

The meeting alone was a message of destiny. First acquaintance, discussions at some boring event didn't just brighten the evening, but allowed a veritable meadow of flowers to bloom in your spark. Peaceful Cybertron was beautiful, it was a pity that few people appreciated what they had.

Then the long war. Deaths, one after another, the smell of about to burst energon from someone's insides, hunger, pain, death again. At what other moment than this should you want to be closer to the one who heals the frame and the spark with mere words, with tugging sounds and a self-assured tone? You didn't hesitate to pick a side. The processor was on maximum, reports, tasks, fixing equipment or repairing the wounded, you learned fast, everything you could learn, just to earn a higher rank, to stand if not on par with Starscream, then at least to be as close to him as possible. But that plan failed so miserably… You were sent away, as if to separate you from him, fate mocked and hated for something.

Without giving up hope, you kept in touch with him from a distance. You wrote to him much more than he did, and more often than not, he would suddenly appear online, reply to one or maybe just two messages with something short, and start complaining. About the Lord, about the tasks, about the soldiers. And you supported him as best you could, not knowing that you were the only one who stayed on his side and told him something positive, like a life preserver thrown so timely.

Then it was finally over. After an agonizingly long time that passed imperceptibly but sucked the last drop out of every Cybertronian, the one you had been waiting and longing for for so long finally stood before you. He was washed and polished, just like you. After millions of years, nothing creaked in your joints, the sky overhead was clear, and Starscream, though slightly changed, was looking over his shoulder with such familiar optics.

For so much time of companionship and support, you were allowed to watch the most important events not from the surface of Cybertron under the new ruler's balcony, and not live, but standing directly behind his back. You've missed him so much that you delight in every movement of his adorable wings, from a full flap, to a barely perceptible twitch. And now he stands there, says his speech, which he has been working on for a long time, makes snide comments, waves goodbye and goes to the exit, passing by and casting a lingering glance at you.

On another workday, you hand over the report into his manipulators, savoring the instant touch of your fingers as he picks up the datapads. He sets them aside and stares at your figure standing in front of him, scrolling from side to side in the expensive chair.

"Not a single remark in your direction my dear, not during the war, nor for your service to me personally, I should suspect you, are you surely a common mortal?" his voice is so sweet you want to lick your lips languidly. You chuckle at his words, and smile at him sincerely, not believing it to be true.

"You shouldn't, I'm just always motivated. It's nice when work is appreciated, you know how unpleasant it feels when it's blatantly not to"

He presses his lips together and nods a few times, dropping a slightly sinking gaze to the surface of his desk, but wipes it off his faceplate and looks at you with the familiar friendliness only you are accustomed to. "You were, are, and I hope will remain my oldest and dearest friend, I need loyal people like you at my side."

And you nod to him too, more than willing to do him a favor. But, oh, how you want to be more than just a loyal friend to him in this time, how you want to put your helmet on his shoulder, take him by the arm and intertwine your fingers, especially in front of everyone. How you want to just nuzzle into his cheek and leave a kiss. And even more than that. Much more. You hide your EM field from Starscream and take a step back, coughing slightly.

"Well, I'll be off, right? So much for rebuilding Cybertron," and you slip out of his office, almost flying out, not noticing at all his outstretched manipulator in your direction in a pathetic attempt to delay.

He abruptly dropped his helmet onto the table with a loud clang, growling out of not knowing what to do. Friend, you're a friend. Odd, what else could he say? 'Hop on my lap, please'? He can't take this pressure, this feeling that if he doesn't act faster, someone will take you, so friendly and open, into their filthy clutches. He doesn't know how to approach you. He's barely even interacted with femmes during his asset. It's worth asking for advice. Primus, from whom? It's all idiots! He jumped up, remembering someone he could have a decent contact with and maybe even get something worthwhile. Dropping his chair from the abruptness of his movements, he quickly close his personal documents and left the office, remembering to lock it.

You're calmly walking down the corridors with another plan in your head and a whole city of ideas and dreams about the future, when you see someone with your side-eye around the corner and turn your attention to the end of the next corridor. Your processor reflexively recognized Starscream's figure instantly, only then did you realize that Windblade was standing next to him. That wasn't the point, it was the way they were standing. Close, too close. He exhales and leans toward her, saying something too quietly for you to make out. Her optics widened in disbelief and surprise as she opened her mouth and looked as if she was embarrassed. Your jaws clenched to a squeak. What could he possibly have said that? He so rarely stood so close to even you, what was she doing so near to him? You stepped out from around the corner completely and shouted a greeting to the far standing mech and femme, causing them to literally recoil from each other. Oh no, you saw the whole thing!

You're in front of them in a couple seconds, looking as shy as if they'd been caught kissing in the pantry.

"What were you discussing?" you smile affably at them both, shifting your gaze from one to the other. They look at each other sharply at your question and Windblade nods her shoulder awkwardly, kneading her hinge and averting her gaze. What was that supposed to mean? Were they flirting?

Starscream instantly went into tactical retreat mode, taking one step back, then another, then silently turning on his heels and adding a step into the unknown. Oh, how rude. This is after all that? Distrust, huh?

You felt as if the spark was about to stop shining from the pain beneath your breastplates. You held yourself back from showing emotion, continuing to look welcoming to at least one onlooker.

"You looked so embarrassed together. If I'm reading this right, I'd have to say that the two of you are very organic." No, you don't think so. And your own words hurt you, but you just want to know more. And femme is throwing up her manipulators and actively waving them around in denial.

"No, no, you've got it completely wrong! We weren't talking about anything like that, never mind…"

"Then what else could you have discussed?"

"We weren't discussing anyone"

Oh no, they weren't gossiping about you behind your own back were they? You force yourself to chuckle sarcastically.

"It's all clear with you lovebirds, how shy." you don't want to hear any more, so with the same quick stride that Starscream had, you walk off in the other direction, leaving Windblade at a loss. What should she have told you? To declare in Starscream's absence that he's in love with you and like a boy doesn't know what to do when he barely trusted her with it? It would have been such a scandal.

She looked sadly in the direction Starscream had gone, then in the direction you were going, and sighed heavily, leaning against the wall and realizing how difficult it was going to be for the two of you.

@skittyhugger because it's your order.

Аnd @alexandraibis because I know damn well you're gonna love it.

[fridaysmind]

"All i want for Christmas is you"

Megatron x Reader NSFW

What, I'm late for catholic christmas?? Too bad, in my defense, I'm Orthodox and my Christmas is in January~ Here: a little pet play, soft domination, first time Enjoy and happy new year!

The glass container with drinks was almost completely empty, you tried desperately to tie the choker around your neck, drunkenly wobbling with stiff arms in front of the small mirror, but the effort was worth it. The contents of your backpack were pulled out and the festive outfit you had changed into was already tightening around your body. The peppermint candy melted on your tongue as Megatron finally entered his compartment, immediately recognizing your small figure on his desk.

"Evenings, huma-" he stopped himself through coughed, calling your name this time as the organic head turned in his direction in response. Soft lips stretched into a smile, greeting Lord as he approached the workstation.

"I've been looking for you master, where have you been?" with careful movements you crept closer to the gray frame of the mech sitting at the console.

"After a long day's work Soundwave is sick of flashing garlands" Megatron's voice was slightly tired, not showing what a pleasant prick in his spark this address to him provided. You covered your mouth with your fingers in surprise.

"Oh dear, poor thing. I didn't mean to, my Lord."

"I didn't blame you, lay off the snot," he interrupted you instantly, raising his voice just a percent and shifting the stern gaze of scarlet optics to your face. You fell silent, but no shadow of fear or apprehension flashed across the soft skin. So uncharacteristically human. Like so many other things. You knew why they were here and you were with them anyway. From your earliest days on Nemesis, you were poked from corner to corner and still you were with them. Missions and espionage were sometimes at the level of the impossible, but you managed, though not perfectly, and you still came back. This and other reasons led to the fact that among the billions of other upright animals on this planet, it was you that the warlord named his personal pet.

Feeling the alcoholic fog coming on, you move closer to the massive manipulator, jingling and causing Megatron to frown.

"What's that sound?" the Lord's voice is hoarse but calm, compared to the commanding shout he uses to give orders on the battlefield. His voice weighs on your eyelids, but not because of drowsiness, sending a pleasantly light current under the skin. The alcohol seems to be working faster than intended.

"М? You mean the bell?" your head snapped up, revealing a choker with a golden jingle bell that you'd half-heartedly fastened around your neck. At the same time, there was a pendant with a Decepticon insignia around your neck. "I thought it was charming."

Charming. Yes, Lord Megatron might have agreed that was a very apt word. He pulls his manipulator towards you, letting the choker pass his attention but clasping the same insignia that flaunted his chest, fingertips turning the thing with interest and watching the light reflecting off it. A foolish blushing femme, so naively putting her neck on the warlord. He could break you with just a finger…

"You know why you haven't seen pendants or other jewelry on any of us? Just marks burned into the metal?" he grinned at the silent negative shake of your head. Of course not.

"Since the earliest times of Cybertron, jewelry has been hung on slaves or those who belong to someone. The crudest and most tasteless baubles hung on the bodies of scavengers or prostitutes. The most expensive jewelry was bestowed upon the personal slaves of the superior or very young partners. Monarchs and senators favored almost children and adorned their necks with the most expensive necklaces, marking their property." finishing his monologue, he hummed and released your jewelry. Your own fingers took up the same sign, now you too were twirling it thoughtfully.

"I…that's how it is?" you babble drunkenly and Lord smiles briefly as you lean closer to him with a determined gleam in your eyes. "Then when may I also have the pleasure of wearing your mark on my flesh? As your associate."

A hoarse and rough laugh escaped from his chest, and you cried out with some movement before you realized that he had clutched you loosely in his fist like a doll and planted you on your buttocks right in front of him. As an associate? Are you fearless or is that an empty bottle on his desk with obvious alcohol inside not the container but your stomach?

"You've served long enough to rise from prisoner to hopeless one-time spy, and from there you jumped with speed to the honorable human rank of beast. Be patient, little femme. To bear the name of a trusted friend you must first prove yourself as a loyal pet" he rubs your hair on the top of your head, then slides a finger down the side of your face to go lower and scratch your chin. Your slow-moving brain doesn't allow you to resist, or at least embarrass yourself for decency's sake, so your eyelids close slightly and you give in.

Such a life wasn't intimidating, he didn't yell at you, never hit you, never threw you, the feeling of specialness in his company was not lost. It was amazing how a tyrant known in the entire universe managed to be so careful and gentle with someone like you. His caresses made your body feel more warm and it didn't escape the mech's sensors.

"If I could give you one single good thing this holiday, what would you wish for?" thick metal fingers run along your shoulder, giving you goosebumps. You discreetly close your eyes in thought, submitting to his touch. Your whole gut knows what you want. You want to be more than just an animal to him, to be closer to that mech. Perhaps unforgivably closer. You pondered your words for a long moment, so long that Lord thought you were dozing off in his arms.

"Just love, my Lord," you answered sharply, with a gasp. "all I want for Christmas is you."

Love. A vulnerable feeling, like a flashing light bulb in a back near a weak spot labeled "hit here" and you're asking that of him of everyone? You really are a remarkable specimen. Anyway, there's nothing he can't use to his advantage.

"Love? You? Oh sweet naive pet" his voice deepens even more as he tilts his helmet. "Love is at odds with every cell of my personality."

You visibly pouted your lips at his words. And he continued in a low voice.

"But there's a first time for everything, right? Also, I've been smelling your hormones for a while now," his fingers yanked at your outfit, ripping the fabric off your bust in a quick and unexpected jerk, exposing your skin.

The sudden movement sent your buttocks sliding forward across the surface of the table, nearly falling over the edge with a shriek. Sobriety spread quickly through the hemispheres of your brain, your arms reflexively hugging your body as you covered yourself, fixing your gaze on Megatron. The meaning of his words slowly reached you as you lowered your head in embarrassment. Does he really feel it or is he bluffing?

"Are you shy about something? I thought you were a fearless representative of your species." his large palms press against the sides of your waist and his thumbs spread your arms. "We need to add more trust if we're going to be anything important to each other."

He successfully parted your upper limbs, leaning closer, causing you to shift your own weight from your buttocks to your lower back, leaning back. He studied the anatomy of your breasts with great interest, clearly seeing a naked human body for the first time. You wriggle under his gaze, embarrassed but not quite resisting his actions. It's unexpected, it's new, and despite the sharpness, it's not something you hate. Your nipples harden instantly from the change in temperature, a scattering of goosebumps blooming on your arms and legs. You don't hold back a sigh as mech run his finger over the protruding pink part with care, like a blind man touching a absorbent cotton figure, trying to figure out what it looks like and not break the shape.

"Fascinating. We don't have anything like that." The metal completely covers the bump, gently kneading the flesh. The softness delighted him beyond belief and he slides further down.

As his manipulators grope the curve of your soft buttocks, you tighten your lips and press your palms against his wrists, how small your hands are, unable to fully embrace this part. Your thighs clench, reducing the throbbing between your legs while reflexively hiding the vulnerable spot from his burning gaze.

Everything seems fast and yet agonizingly slow at the same time. He slides his hands underneath you, as if studying the details of a tabletop figurine rather than exposing someone else's body. He squeezed your tiny legs and, wrapped around the limbs, slid along to your knees. After this delicate groping and stroking, he suddenly pulled your legs apart sharply and, letting go of your right knee, he pressed the end of his finger firmly into the damn right place. You arch your back with a whimpering groan.

He feels the fabric soaking wet and smiles so predatory, as if he hadn't told you a little while ago that he'd known everything for a long time.

"Ah, you're tiny." he pressed his index finger against your belly without a shadow of shyness and it took you a moment to realize he was measuring how much of him would fit inside you. His finger alone reached just above your navel and your thighs clenched again, trying to reduce the heat. "Even too tiny for all of me. Do you even have experience with anyone of your species?"

You quickly raise your eyes to him, only to also sharply look anywhere but.

"I see." Megatron enjoys observing your shyness, so sharply contrasted with your boldness and daring in conversation. He can see so much submissiveness in the small organic eyes that he hasn't seen in any of his soldiers' optics and it brings out something special in him. "So, I've never been in this position with a human either."

He pulled your bottom off pretty quickly, not tearing the fabric this time, but pulling it off completely. The entire inside of your thighs is smeared with clear, natural lubricant, and it feels like such a shame when he's only touched the sensitive nerves once. But can you blame you? His look, his voice, he's the only one responsible for the whole mess. He spreads his legs even wider again, and your muscles between your legs clench involuntarily at the scrutinizing gaze. He doesn't seem to be confused by anything, he doesn't find your human anatomy repulsive or strange, on the contrary, he just absorbs every detail like a sponge.

His fingers pressed against your labia, pulling them apart with a wet smacking sound.

Your talkativeness and responsiveness are gone without a trace. You're so quiet, sighing, ahhing or humming at the touch, but saying absolutely nothing, dont give him any comments, completely following his actions. Fascinating.

The lord ran his phalanx over the damp, smooth flesh, picking up the moisture with interest. What an amazing similarity between his and your race, it's astounding. His index finger swirled around the tiny entrance, could even one fit inside you? It's worth finding out in practice. Megatron doesn't prepare you, finding it pointless to fondle one that's already wet beyond belief. The tip presses in, slipping in with a small amount of force, minuscule for a warlord like him.

"Look at me." he commands you, but the excitement makes your eyelids so heavy, almost unbearable. You try, really try, turning your head toward him, biting your lip with quickened breath. But he presses his finger inside you, sliding deeper, and you squint.

"You're doing great, good girl." his praise is like sudden thunder in the sky and a current runs through your entire body. Your fingers clench as he says the words with a shadow of approval, pressing his thumb against a bundle of nerves and teasing the sensitive spot.

From your heat and arousal, Lord's finger easily entered a few more centimeters, making you arch your back. He flexing slightly, unclenching and clenching the joints, feeling the insanely warm and pliable walls. Steam nearly billowed from beneath his body at the thought of how good his spike would feel. Oh, he wouldn't stop at just one finger, except just for tonight. But he has to find a way to fit inside you completely.

His finger alone spreads and fills you so much that you can't hold yourself. Rolling around on the surface of the table, you try to find somewhere to put your hands, but your master has made the decision for you, taking your wrists and holding them above your head.

With a rougher slide of his finger, the choker jingled, amusing the mech and inviting him to speed up. Thrust after thrust he got the hang of it, found the perfect angle and now with quick movements both inside and out he brought you to discharge. His compartment filled with the sounds of tinkle and wet sliding, mixed with meek sighs, moans and smell of alcohol and mint. A bud of desired orgasm began to blossom in your belly.

“You know what I'm thinking? I think that day after day, fate shows you that you're here for a reason. You were born to belong to me.”

The strong manipulators continue to hold your hands firmly above your head, the stiffness only adding to the pleasure, fueling the arousal and hastening the approach of orgasm. The fingers inside you slow their movement and instead the mech focuses on sliding quickly over your clit. Megatron's handling is so wonderful that your nerves instantly burn with a special heat and the hips shake uncontrollably. With a loud whimper and a moan of his name, you cum on the manipulator, clamping it firmly between your thighs.

Lord takes his time coming out, letting you go through the full wave of your orgasm before gently removing his finger from your folds and slowly withdrawing from your womb, letting your upper limbs go to the surface of the table.

"I suppose I should say 'happy holiday'" he looks mockingly at your collapsed tiny body.

"Thank..you, my Lord”

Twirling his own finger in front of his optics, the mech swipes the gloss over the grease covering the entire length, cleaning itself. He continued to sit beside you, looking over your deep-breathing body and returning his gaze to the pendant with his mark, silently considering something.

[fridaysmind]

lol

[fridaysmind]

Skybound!Starcream x Yandere!reader

I love him so much. wanna just...ok, dont mind... !Skybound spoilers!

He was beautiful.

He marveled at his dazzling beauty when he first appeared. His eyes burned like wildfire, his every movement was so precise, so light, his flight through the sky seemed like a dance, if only he hadn't grinded human bodies in his huge metal palms with that very lightness. Not that this brutality spoiled him in any way. The splattering of people's blood seemed to freeze in the air as if in slow motion, and it seemed as if the petals of red roses were flying all around him. The monstrous screams of real terror of the crowd and deafening gun shots paled before his voice, his maniacal laughter. He appeared before mankind as a true angel of death.

He remained something unimaginable even after the betrayal of his brothers, a small, quick, and extremely violent rebellion. The other grouping had not had time to clean up the robot's unconscious body, and now he hung on chains, in a secret base underground, away from the prying eyes of others. Hanging without legs and one optic, with a haggard look, so defenseless he was still deadly at the same time.

It wasn't easy to bring the fighter to its senses, it couldn't be handled like a normal machine, but the effort was worth it. Of course, for the sake of general safety, his vision is limited and the chains are pulled tighter around, causing him to cling to even more attention. How cute he is, waking up in an unknown place, seeing nothing and unable to move. Adorable. Then shouts and a wave of questions, demands, assurances, threats. Everything but a hint of neutral, not even kind, words came out of his mouth. Like a sharpened blade, always ready to plunge into another's flesh. He'd promised to contact his own, but it was worth reminding him, oh, sweet warrior, who left you in this condition? Would they not come here just to finish their business? And the rage was replaced by a much quieter anger. Is it possible to wait long enough to speak of its beauty? Perhaps this task is easy for those ignorant enough to fail to recognize art. How dare they attack you after your labors and patience? How could they betray and mob you and tear you apart like a stranger? And even after that, you got up from your knees, said you dared not surrender, even offered compromises, but you did not run away, stood your ground and fell so honorably. You were perfect.

His wings twitch, trying to move, but patting the wall behind him with a clatter. Fantastic. A proud creature. Forgetting revenge and anger, he praises himself without the slightest bit of embarrassment and says his name in passing, along with words of power and conquest. Beautiful, sonorous, pleasing to the ear and tongue.

Starscream.

He doesn't think to stop, continues in his blinded and shackled state to utter insults in the direction of all those who dare to be against him, almost tearing his voice from his tirade about the unworthy and weak that have only miraculously lived millions of years on par with all the powerful individuals of their faction.

Millions of years, one wonders… and for such creatures to live so long, the luck for a human to live a hundred years is no more than a joke, a blink of an eye. And is it possible that at least the long decades of loyalty and patience for humans would one day be allowed to freely approach and leave a fleeting kiss on those lips that love to stretch in a cruel grin? It's a senseless and utterly stupid idea for sure, but for the sake of a ghostly chance one is willing to take a risk. To save him, to fix him, to help spread his wings again. And kiss.

Oh, Lord, if you hear my prayer, grant me the opportunity for just one fleeting kiss.