robolvrr

[robolvrr]

friend you can keep ꩜ .ᐟ

jazz x prowl x gn! human reader warnings: nsfw. buzzed sex.

"this what you wanted, wasn't it? attention? couldn't shut up and let us focus, could you?"

"relax, prowler - they're drooling. awww, wait a min', that's cute!"

is this a wet dream? it feels like a wet dream. there wasn't an oracle in the universe that could have predicted such an event - and it was fitting to classify as such, grandeur and overwhelming on so many levels you swear your eyes see nothing but fuzzy interference.

"p-p-prrowwwl, puh.. slow down!"

"slow dowwwn? slow down?" he's grinning, awful asshole. he rarely does, fanged smirk infuriating and itching to be clawed away.

still, your protests are corroded, lacking bite or want. that much is obvious otherwise you wouldn't be clutching so greedily round the law enforcer's waist, babbling praises and curses that make prowl want to take you by the throat.

whereas he takes and takes, jazz on the other hand, gives.

his smile is saccharine, pleased. you can still make out his expression, mesh lips cloying while they travel in the crook of your neck in determined, practiced trails. he is the sweet to prowl's sour, soothing lovebites where his partner's teeth once dug. he knows what places make you melt.

"y'know, you about the smoothest thing i've ever heard. ain't that something?" his door wings give a proud twitch when prowl tsks, careful to squeeze your cheeks. it may have taken some coaxing and prayer but he's relieved to feel you relax when his spike bumps against your leaking hole.

"cut it out, jazz. they were a brat. they don't deserve praise right now."

something akin to a wheeze bubbles from your lips. you call him dozens of insults he doesn't bother researching. they clearly can handle their drinks better than you could.

"prowl, they're about to take both of us, like a good little sparkslut. aren't ya, babe?" his digits interlock with the paler mech's, helm canted and before long, his simmering gaze is enough to ease some of the other's disgruntlement. unlike him however, he knows you're still fragile, slowly easing the tip of his spike and hissing quiet when it bumps against the ridges of prowl's.

prowl couldn't be torn from this even if the whole building set aflame.

"say it. say you'll be good and i bet ya he'll be nicer."

"i-iiiii... i'm good! i'm good, 'mgoodsogood, so good, jazz it's. not gonna fit, not gonna, how-"

more kisses. you, prowl, jazz, you again. you're in heaven and hell.

"slow. 'll take it slow with you. wanna feel that stretch."

naturally, jazz knows you'll secrete lubricant of your own, though the challenge of the pair inside was asking a lot. he also knew you were an over-achiever and had been eyeing them the entire assignment, with the lingering boldness of your own kind's vice still a whisper in your system.

"... thereee we go!"

pain is devoured by euphoria, grinding hauling to a pause as prowl remembers not to shatter your resolve entirely. you cum, hard, because your associates are huge.

jazz checks out how you creamed, far from bored from the lack of light pink that smears his spike. he flicks a glance to prowl, who looks a mixture of angry and very turned on. he can bet his battle computer is on the fritz which explains why he's practically steaming at the jaw.

"ain't this nice?"

"can it jazz, please. just.. j-just for now. frag."

there's an inside joke which you're left out of for now. you'll ask about it when their fluids aren't soaking your uniform.

"... another round, newbie?"

they swear you squeeze them a little harder.

robolvrr 2025.

a/n: so. eat up. i know there is barely ANY content of both of them and i don't know why because they would handle you SO WELL. i am unleashing my demons for now while the weekend lasts.

[robolvrr]

psst, I just wanted to let you know i’m in love with your writing❤️ I always look forward to seeing your posts 🫶

to be perceived by some of my favorite creators and artists lately has me kicking my feet and giggling! (teehee.)

the feelings are mutual for sure, your art is just scrumptious. i love the way you capture expressions.

everyone - go check their stuff out, FORREAL.

[robolvrr]

Ha hello!! Before I can say smth I LOVE LOVEE HOW YOU WRITE ALL YOUR FIC AHHH TO BE HONEST… IM SO GIDDY READING YOUR WORKS. Its soo idk. Enchanting to say the least and I love the layout of your blog hmm… mhm magnificent. And yes i just stumble your blog this morning (well in my country it is) and undeniably you became one of my fav writer.

And an additional question how did you make your font gradient? Its so cool what!!!

Anyw, I hope you have a great day 😩😩😩🫶🙏

-🐩anon

first of all - i love poodles. this is adorable!

thank you so much! it's not much but it takes time, so i'm still trying to get my navigation etc. all set-up. (aka i am sleepy and WAY too lazy to actually code out a tumblr blog.)

HOWEVER! gradient text is actually p easy! you have to set your posts to html instead of rich text. there are a few gradient makers that do the whole code for you, i think if you look up 'tumblr how to make gradient texts' it gives some generators for you.

i'm slowly returning to writing. i can't wait to fall back into the swing of things!

yours lazily,

robolvrr

[robolvrr]

private show ੈ ♡˳

galaxy girl. ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　

swerve x fem! camgirl warnings: nsfw. mutual masturbation.

one.

tossing this thing, far, far away from the lost light wasn't sounding like that bad of an idea.

really. he even had the nerve to fumble through an lie, assuring the now ragtag bunch of contraband-loving thieves having witnessed the magic on it that it wouldn't be a worry. he had it.

besides, rodimus badges were on the rise and whether any of them liked to admit it, it would be nice to earn one. not that swerve has. yet.

this kind of secret if found out? would land them all in magnus levels of trouble.

.. so why is swerve here? locked up in his habsuite, fist crunched between dentae and perspiration sweating down his helm? he asks himself these questions too late, which is a bittersweet epiphany, because by the time he does self reflect its usually long past knee-deep in scrap.

this is all kinds of wrong. he's all kinds of messed up and this infatuation with earth and humans and pretty, pretty girls has gone too far because he isn't even one -

"shouldn't i be tellin' this to .. rung? rang?"

the mumble of course met with silence. that is, until the pitch black screen zaps to life, temporarily fading his crestfallen expression to a faint reflection on a light, persimmon backdrop. the backdrop being evidently your bedroom, which you decorated just for him he acknowledges.

right. he had it, alright. credits, that is, enough to get one more show.

a personal one where he didn't have to bump shoulders or awkwardly squeeze his legs together, swipe prompts away while arm to arm with fellow crewmates to unlock his interface panels.

before swerve can talk himself out of this stupid idea again, the dreamy call of his designation bursts from the speakers instead. starstruck, he panics. slams a digit in a flurry on the audio controls, wincing a moment with a mortified grunt.

thank the primes he's mute. he can only hope it wasn't loud enough to warrant an complaint from a neighboring bot.

"sweeeerve.. you there, sweetie? i know you said you were nervous."

nervous? him? oh, buddy if you only knew! he slowly shifts forward and you'd have wished his camera were on, because it'd have been so cute seeing how delicately he handles the dented laptop, worried lip slipping between metal teeth.

tap tap tap. it's so hard typing.

[ Lol. Just haven't done this before. ]

he isn't sure what to expect at first. you're propped up, comfortable atop your tower of pillows. satin hides most of your chest and torso, but a split towards the front with a crinkled hem suggest the lingerie you wear is meant to be opened. unraveled, like a present. skin glittering like those earth movies and their shiny vampires, nipples pebbled through tempting fabric.

you look like a princess. you look like a goddess.

"oh? i'm popping your cam cherry then, mm?"

it takes him a second to understand what you're saying. his face grows hotter. he actually has to fan himself with a vibrating servo - you're a tease, sheesh!

[ HAHAHAHahaha. I guess. ]

swerve wants nothing more than to slam his helm against the wall. please don't torture him like this. not before you even start.

as if your hear his agony, a giggle tickles his audials. you finger the soft opening of your nightwear, head tilted and lips pouted.

"alright, alright. i bet you're frustrated. but! i am a woman of my word."

frag, you're actually listening to him. a whiny part of him reminds that this is transactional and while it could shatter his confidence a tad, he's perplexed because you don't act like its just another job.

in fact, he's a little dizzy staring, watching you place both your hands near the wall behind you. then your legs are spreading, further and further and further, until he can see your glossy...

valve. cunt. pussy. the foreign words make his intake dry.

you're so fraggin' small. and he's bigger than you, way bigger, which isn't a feeling that graces his processors much. your small fingers, flirting with garters stuck tight at warm thighs. small mouth, huffing and panting while you work your.. you have a node?

it's so tiny. he has to squint to see it. blue visor hot enough to burn, his panel mechanisms move on their own embarrassingly fast, chubby spike ramrod at his torso.

"f. hah. hahhhhh, okay, uh.."

okay good, he's still on mute, to his relief. he doesn't even want to ex-vent because it might risk smothering your mildly, aggravated whine. you mewl. he laughs, in disbelief.

"y'know.. these kind of shows turn me on the most. cause if i can't see you, can't hear you.. i wanna make you overload more. drives me crazy."

engines revving, his strokes stutter upon hearing the terminology. must have known that too - are you a mind reader? - cause you smile, all-knowing.

"yeah. i wanna make you overload with me, swerve. would that make you feel less stressed out?"

[ Yes. Primusy es. ]

he doesn't bother correcting. instead he's fallen head over pedes watching you curl ring and middle deep inside, gagging on whines when you spread just enough to gape. he almost breaks when you whisper how you've never done it with a cybertronian, but you'd like to someday. that it was one of those fantasies none of your toys could even fulfill.

"d-don't think i could take you, hah. you bots are so big - fff - bet you you could show me a good time with just your hands."

swerve notes you like it, pressure, on that glossy nub, blunt of your palm grinding down hard. his jaw is tight as he jerks off in tandem, seeing the sticky juices gushing and wanting to shove his face right there. kissing, nonstop, until you spasm. the screen looks blurry. he's losing control.

"i'm so wet for you. do you like it?"

"are you kiddin'? c-course i do!" swerve almost chuckles again, right servo moving so fast its an sloppy mesh of squelches and rasps. keeling over, desperation paints his weakening demeanor. seeing you rise and fall chasing that high with him like an turbofox in heat is excruciatingly compelling.

"frag, frag, 'm so close baby, please, please-"

you smack your cunt. he lets out a quiet 'bwuh?' and shoulders sag seeing you squirm with a squeak. he could do that to you. he could be tender enough to do that too and he'd leave a sting that'd stay for days.

"so close, so c-close - i - shit - i'm gonna cum," what a surprise, to feel lubricant trickling down from near offlined optics, don't stop talking please, please, please - "swerve, you're gonna make me.. !"

white noise.

a dull, crackling hum fills his processors. he can't hear himself or you, the minibot crying while transfluid puddles, berth not cool enough to dampen the flames pulsing at his core. his charge is too much, knocking air he doesn't need straight from his chassis.

like dead to allspark, your dulcet whines drag him to the afterlife with cradling embrace.

by the time he's back online, his panels aren't closing nor can he lift himself, energon parched. he barely can see the text chat anymore as it is.

[ feel free to play with me again, swervey. you sound so sexy. ]

the screen is pitch black once more, taunting. to his horror, arousal floods his sensors, groan low.

damn it.

robolvrr 2025.

a/n: yeah so i'm actually insane. you're welcome. i'm just saying i'd give that bartender a ride he wouldn't survive. 　

[robolvrr]

hey im 21 and i just found ur blog im obsessed w the rodimus x reader thing u wrote and I was wondering if you could write smth similar for either shockwave or soundwave x reader (or both??? 😳) - I luv to see a human bringing a bot to their knees and ur writing is top tier

lovedrunk ᴗ｡‿⁠✷

soundwave x gn! human reader

warnings: nsfw! drabble. thank you for the patience! ✷

warmth splashes down your back, gooey and metallic. the sensation forces your eyes open, lashes dew-kissed with tears. it envelopes you with grounding peace, even though your nerves are rattled and you can barely force out a gasp.

you're surprised when you're gently turned around, facing the reflection of your own desires staring cherubly back at you. it's sweet, the gesture itself hinting neediness.

soundwave's visor is blazing crimson, heat radiating from his dark-blue accents bold on his bulkier frame. he didn't possess the proper eyes to convey his drunkenness on you, but his attention is felt nonetheless, square on the trembling of your hands.

he's looking at his transfluid, pretty shades of pink painting your soft flesh and drying like polish. you glitter and sheen.

you can hear the way his fans click and reset in efforts to keep his temperature level, too. it's tantalizing.

"keep going. wanna feel you in me again."

although he fully could overpower you and at first glance it appears he is - spike pressurized, slamming deep and mechanically with a passion that an hollowed-out being like him shouldn't possess - that isn't the case. the metaphorical leash is held tight in your palms, knuckles white from the squeeze.

"as you wish."

does his vocalizer fizzle at the end, or is your imagination playing tricks?

so intimate, the way his giant servo cradles your spine. you meet his thrusts with shallow rocks of your own, admiring the thickness go in and out with little trouble. creamy arousal glistens near flaring biolights lining his shaft. his digits fist in your hair and you nod, approvingly.

"mmn, just. like. that. just like t-thaaat, ooo-oh!"

soundwave's creaking groan deep at his spark rumbles within earshot and has you blushing, toes curled as he starts to speed up. he doesn't share your need for breaks but to his surprise and maybe, while not admitted delight - you do keep up better than assumed.

you press your lips to your arms which have unfolded above your head, mouth gushing with spit. soundwave thinks the laughter, shrill and wanting and happy, is the most enchanting music that's touched this side of the planet.

it's even more so when it's all for him.

the sun crescents above as he continues to plow into your tinier hole, perversion at its finest when even the tightest of valves could hardly hold candlelight to what you provide. in a different world, one where conquering wasn't so atop his natural duties, he'd have you seated in his lap. except, you'd be looking down on him, that messy spit of yours lolling off your tongue, into his intake, down his chin - he's yours, he's all yours, don't you see?

"i... i am close." soundwave sounds grittier than usual.

even with your insides rearranging, just a chip from a titans resolve is more than enough to invigorate. a single touch to his chest and he's leaning back, taking you with him in a gentle scoop. still doing his best to keep going, trying not to peak when it's clear you're still starving.

his e.m. field shrieks for you. could he brand your handprints on his chest, near his crest?

delirious. he must take up with shockwave. what makes humanity so addictive? do you have some sort of biological spell, a mixture of chemicals and haunting charm that drives mechs mad?

"that's right. fill me. take me." bouncing. you look evil, little beast, little monster. "t-take it." keeping in time with that everlasting torture his spark beats, his helm dips back, arms shaking. "overload. overload in me, soundwave, coat all of me in you, fuck, fuck, fuck-"

a whimper. it took hours, but it's well earned. he whimpers, as you slowly lift up to the tip, only riding enough to suction his spike at the most sensitive area in efforts to gain every drop he has to give.

you don't have to repeat yourself. with a roar, he jackhammers a final time violently, steam whistling between his exposed seams and shit, you wouldn't have it any other way. overload he did, enough to spurt and bubble, stare staggering between the remnants dribbling from your sore body, to the sheen of sweat, then the grin that's stayed picture perfect.

primus. you're still going. you're still moving, groping your own body roughly. one day, you promised he'd be allowed if he kept up his behavior. he can't find himself to do anything but lay back and watch, the cavity in his chassis aching.

soundwave may be loyal to megatron, his brother in arms, the decepticon cause.

but you? he worships you.

robolvrr 2025.

a/n : thank you again for the patience! i will be revisting both waves because i can't resist them (sorry for edging y'all LMAO.)

[robolvrr]

me when i see my fantasies become slightly more real (so very down bad. lovely lovely art on my dash while i slowly ease back into requests.)

Whiny bitches get stitches ≧O≦

( another one inspired by @robolvrr !! 🫶🏻)

( Minors DNI !! )

I love the concept of humans being just cute and dumb little species for Cybertronians to fuck wether as we humans like it or not ≧3≦

[robolvrr]

happy new year!

(and happy bday to me, another year on the belt.)

thank you guys for supporting me!

it's been so much fun getting back into the transformers fandom. i have met so many fun people and can't wait to meet more!

i will hopefully get to writing soon when time allows. some of my requests got eaten :( so once i get more of the batch done i am reopening.

have a wonderful new chapter of your lives.

love,

robolvrr

[robolvrr]

hey so this is crazy!!! i love this!!! (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

mwah mwah mwah lovely art as always.

Hey my bbys im back 🧡(๑>؂•̀๑)✌☆*:

Took me long enough but i kinda took a lil break for a while and here i am again (⁎˃ᴗ˂⁎)

Since it was Christmas we had SO MUCH to do, all the familie's traditions and preparations, my WHOLE family came over, everyone needed my help, i was also at work, i had to make a painting i promised i would do and then me and my bestie went on a trip in Vienna for three days so i was like SUPER busy but we had so much fun together man ( *´﹀` *)

I truly feel relaxed so here i made a drawing with Prowl kinda inspired by this absolutely amazing fic by @robolvrr ( minors DNI ! )

Guys they are such an amazing writer go give them a follow please🧡

Also i feel so good to be back and see what you guys have been up to :3🧡

[robolvrr]

seasonal anthologies ft. the mtmte bots, sfw !

summer is for celebrations and driving down to the beach with drift, where the air hot and thick despite the setting sun in the distance. you stick your head out the passenger window to feel the wind rushing past your ears, the excited roar of his engines bouncing off the cliffside. it's sitting on rodimus's shoulders as he runs past the shore, the spray of cold water making you squeal into the side of his helm. june, july, august — salt dissolves in your mouth while thunder rumbles in the distance. you sit by the steps of your porch with swerve, the air heavy with heat. as if the earth was holding its breath in anticipation, waiting to break and give way to rain. his big, blocky fingers awkwardly tearing through an orange for you to eat. saccharine and sticky, the fruit drips down your forearms with every bite. green is the grass between your toes, grey is the sky as it melts to nightfall. summer is when the mattress dips unequally to one side, where you and tailgate sleep back to back, skin to metal. the warmth sinks into your bone, blanket on the floor as the faint whirring of his systems lulls you to sleep. fall is for new beginnings, shorter days, and knitted scarves. where the sunlight is lighter and softer, casting long, golden shadows across ratchet's face. he displaces his mass to help you tie your coat by its belt, pulling you closer to soak in the heat radiating off his chassis—soft wool between his shiny servos. september bleeds into october, and somewhere between, where the air is so clean it shivers, cyclonus walks next to you in muted contemplation. optics quietly taking in the ocean of leaves crunching underneath his pedes. cinnamon between your teeth as you swallow your longing, fingers tracing over the holo-picture of skids. nautica says the muted colors remind her of him, but she blames it on the morning chill creeping past her cables. you tell her that fall is the season of reminiscing, of missing what is gone and what is yet to come — the ending and beginning of things, the place where all things come to die. the soil is soft and the world is asleep. this is the part where you turn off the lights and leave.

winter is for joy and relaxation, november a mosaic of warm orange windows and deep blue nights, where the moonshine falls thin and silver. minimus is determined to keep you from straying off the path, guiding you through the thick heap of snow — arms intermingled, hand and servo intertwined. your laughter rings into the night like bells, airy and light; a quiet wish, a happy prayer. for some, december is asleep. it's reclusive and shy, just like rung when he gives in to your request to stay inside, submitting to the weight of the duvet as it swallows you both. for others, the darkness only makes them vigilant. optics wide awake, prowl slinks back into the shadows, pale like the blizzard, soundless like a secret. early mornings and frozen lakes, megatron tells you the winter is cruel — barren and empty, silencing the earth. you disagree, telling him that winter is full of hope, where the snow is white with the promise of forgiveness. the promise to begin again.

spring is for waking up under the sun, where the light kisses your cheeks and shoulders; brainstorm suddenly envious of the star. you chew berries against the bark of an old, dying tree. skin buzzing with a new kind of energy, heart bursting at the sight of perceptor studying the small animals in the distance. in february, you stretch your arms to welcome a night of storms. in march, you patiently listen to whirl complain about the pollen in his cogs. finally, in april, the air is alive, sweet and rosy, laughing and singing. first aid lifts you with his open palm, across a running stream, down a winding, rocky path. somewhere behind you, misfire raises his helm to the clear, cloudless sky. drowning himself in the sound of strange birds and even stranger insects. there is a tenderness to all of this, capricious and fickle, flowers buried in the wash of green grass. a dream you don't want to wake up from, an embrace you're not ready to part with. nightbeat says he hates when beautiful things are fleeting, and you think he's no longer referring to the spring, optics sad and distant as they land on you.

[robolvrr]

behind closed doors. ੈ♡˳

optimus prime x afab human reader warnings: nsfw.

he is fascinated.

it took a great deal of convincing. not him, but you - over mass displacement. you argued that with all the warnings from ratchet the purpose of such mechanisms should only be applied for tasks of importance.

optimus, as stoic as he can be now, could only hide his smile behind the battle-worn mask. "you are of importance", he said, such a simple reply. yet, he watched as you gaped like a goldfish, flustered beyond belief.

the prime had seen many a spectacle. overgrown forests bursting with life. deserts as dry as the sands of beachy hills and glacier cooled mountains under canopies of wind and snow. none could ever compare to humanity. so delicate and resilient, resourceful.

this adoration grips his spark in stride, especially when you finally get over nerves and slowly slip the velvet of your robe off a shoulder.

it's an intimate affair. skin and curve and softness, much closer than before. he's taller still, at least several feet. but now, he can gently grab your arms. squeeze his digits like scooping gold and watch entranced when the love indents form.

"optimus..."

a whine. he gingerly lets you go, still crowding your space. you show no actual discomfort and it's obvious by the time the puddle of fabric slips to your ankles, creating a halo around your feet. his optics, electric, take in the swell of your ass. your thighs, calves, biceps.

"the shower will get cold, my love."

now you are the one in a trance. so, you slide open the glass door, fingerprints leaving a kiss in the fog. your lover follows behind slowly, as if you might bound off like startled deer.

optimus wrangles his pondering by working the knots from your back instead.

the noises leaving your wet lips stir at his core. he feels perverted, watching your head tip back until the crown hits his chassis, spine arching beautiful as those modes of destruction and heroism glide down the front of your body.

droplets cling to your chest and drip down your chin. his fans, internal, click to a blast which is dampened by cascading shades from the shower-head.

"you look so small.. like this."

surprise takes your features by storm and his helm feels hot, not meaning to have said the thought aloud. however, when you part your legs to allow him to sponge lavender and honey suds with care, he can tell you find his sentiment charming.

he was so awkward with you at first.

now, the leader is wrapped tight around your fingers and you are wrapped tight around his. he can't help himself, thick silver of his middle digit pumping in and out. greedy where milky white coats and while his servos are still navigating, pleasing, you're practically drowning for him already.

you're cute. cute when you lift to the balls of your feet when he just can't take it anymore, array unlocking and spike rocking a steady pace that has you panting against porcelain.

when you aren't sounding dumb anymore, dribbling and babbling like you've lost your mind, you might laugh at the idea of the optimus prime being an ass-man.

it's a shameful vice when he switches positions. you're much bendier underneath warm drizzles, so you let him lift your leg just enough to hitch close to your hip so he can find that special angle that gets you singing. those "ah, ah, ah!"s when your flesh ripples, crushed ribbon beneath his grip.

and then you're crying, tangle of limbs while he sits. still full to the brim, strawberry pink coating your clit as he keeps close to you in a way you can't speak of beyond closed walls.

robolvrr 2024.

a/n: it has been so busy with holidays coming up! i am one tired gal. but i wanted to write a lil something (and i love this old tired man.)

[robolvrr]

Hi I just finished reading your Pharma fic and I must ask for more like this but maybe some more torture? If that makes you uncomfortable then feel free to not do it!

debt collector. *. * ·

pharma x reader warnings: nsfw. mentions of medical torture. dark content. a back-alley doctor of all trades gives you deals too good to be true.

three knocks.

do you have a death wish?

the silence makes you wince. this night is bitter and your nose is ruddy, two moons overhung in the black beauty sky. gloved hands gingerly rub for friction, last ditch effort to gain some comfort. you know once this rusted door slides open, you won't be at ease and he will be there, watchful as a vulture's vice.

there should be no surprise when your miracle doctor is summoned, though you suppose the sizable difference in height and build is a factor. his smirk is a permanent fixture and what he lacks in pupils he offers in personal intrusions, crowding you inside with a croon of baritone greetings.

several mechanisms relock themselves. the mask covering the lower half of your face rolls down your chin, his colossus hands so precise, so tender, slipping your limbs free of a winter coat.

"my favorite patient. i do hope those.. prescriptions i've suggested you have been doing the trick."

originally, you had come here for the medical services. simple check-ins, an health examination every once in awhile. his rates were cheap and you had no insurance, so knowing a cybertronian of all things - billions and billions of years old no doubt with just as much field knowledge - quelled most of your concerns.

most of them.

pharma was an interesting mech. if he were a man, you're sure you'd fumble your tongue more. he has a funny way of getting you to agree with him.

"dear. i do adore our shared moments of silence just like any other, but i asked a question. how else am i to know my efficiency if you get all shy on me, mm?"

his grin tears some more seeing you squirm, mumbling an apology and turning your head as if he won't catch the warmth on your cheeks in the opposing mirror.

"sorry, pharma. to be honest.."

"yeees?" pharma sounds like he knows exactly what is bothering you.

"the medications.. they've been making me anxious. i think. i see things more than usual out of the corner of my eyes. i hear a thump and suddenly my heart is racing."

"no better than an alley cat, it seems." a grumble leaves your pout and he, still smiling wide and knowing, tuts in false concern.

"doctor, please. i know you told me these methods of yours were experimental. i'm organic. our biology is different, at its core. but i just need to sleep. that's all i need."

"all you need?"

his digit slips something gritty and round in your mouth. you swallow like the good patient you are, even though the flavor cakes your throat and makes you gag. it helps when he cups your throat, tickling the column of your neck.

he has such a way with touch. you forget you're frustrated.

"yes. i just want to sleep."

with a note of finality, his servos clap together, urging you to stay still. it may have been a few minutes, or hours, though it's unclear. there are no clocks down here. your head feels so heavy.

with a thunk, you are falling and with a grandiose hum, he is catching, placing you atop his table like a frankenstein doll.

sluggish muscles make way for well-crafted pins. acupuncture just edging discomfort, or is the fuzziness at the trim of your blank expression a sign of the end?

"then sleep you shall."

his voice echoes loud and glorious. an angel's choir - an angel of death.

the drilling pain kisses you again, fleets. you whimper, but he doesn't miss the jolt of your legs, or the shaky breath you gift his audials.

"i can gift you peace, sleeping beauty. i promise. however.. the subject of payment has been on the table for too long. i must collect."

schlick.

squishy and wet. hardness swelling where it shouldn't, nestled in your praising stare. lashes graze metal.

"speechless? you'll feel better after, sweet thing." in a corner of your mind dozens of atmospheres away, your sense of survival is thrashing in fear. it is not strong enough to pierce this hypnotic veil.

"in fact, you won't feel much at all."

pnk!

-

this room is warm and this table is cold and his hands, his hands, so big and perfect and familiar.

pharma's thumb slowly drags up along your cheek, before escaping back into his intake for him to taste-test. you think wearily that it's bright and tangy, just like the hues of his opulent frame.

"that's it. sink."

you smile.

a/n: thanks for the request! if i did get into darker stuff, like descriptive gore, i'd end up making a sideblog. also a giant prose writer so i like to leave things to the minds eye so to speak. if you can't tell, pharma and his versions of "romance" aren't sweet. will u match his freak? ;)

[robolvrr]

thinking of the little moments between you and the bots experiencing intimacy together for the first time, how foreign yet exciting it must be to explore one another — the rush, the thrill, the quiet, almost hesitant interactions, where every touch and look feels electrifying. (sfw!) (slightly suggestive)

rodimus urgently running his servos down your body: metal fingers grabbing your thighs and squeezing your hips. too impatient to wait and too eager to slow down, he starts fumbling with the hem of your shirt. unsure of how to undress you, the captain glared at the material as if it had personally insulted him, almost tearing the cotton to shreds. and for a brief second, it was just the two of you standing under the half-light, laughing together as you teach him how to pull it over your neck. he tries to be careful, going as slow as he can even when his hands shake in anticipation — cooling fans growing louder with every inch of skin you reveal underneath.

minimus brushing your hair to the side to reveal your nape, the cold air of the room acting as a delicious counterpoint to the sudden press of his warm mouth against the back of your neck, causing you to shiver. the first kiss had been tentative, shy, and barely ghosting over your skin. you understand that the last thing your lover wants to do is to hurt you, but judging from the noises you're making : breathless and begging, minimus has nothing to worry about. and so the point-one-percenter carefully tilts you forward to continue a path down your bare spine, making you sing into the pillows.

skids staring at you from across the table, servos drumming against the chair. even when your eyes were cast down to read the papers in your hand, you could sense him watching—the gears in his processor turning. you knew it was because you had your glasses on, and for some reason, the mech had taken quite the fascination with them. with a call of your name, you looked up, fully expecting him to distract you with one of his usual hypotheticals. instead, he used a single servo to push your glasses up the bridge of your nose. tilting your face upwards, skids continued to shamelessly stare, flashing you a lopsided grin before swooping down to press his mouth against yours.

first aid trying his best to undo the buttons of your shirt, big, blocky servos struggling against the fabric. you didn’t want to intervene, urging him to continue, using this opportunity to steady your breathing. the medbay was void of any sound, save for the incessant whirring of the monitor systems and machinery faintly beeping in the background. once the last button came undone, it was as if every single noise suddenly ceased to exist. all you could focus on was the medic sinking to his knees, resting the side of his helm against your chest—audials trying to pick up the faint beating of your heart. he said this was for research, but even with his visor, you didn’t miss how his optics followed the flush blooming from your face down your neck.

[robolvrr]

stars aligned. ☁️ ·̩͙✧

ultra magnus x reader drabble! warnings: nsfw. praise kink. mild bondage. slight voyeurism.

"you look stunning."

the titan near crumbles right then. you hear a noise you're certain none of the lost light, hell, galaxy even, has heard torn from his vocalizer, selfishly happy with the static edge that trembles with it.

he's a good listener, the loyal enforcer, because he doesn't even squirm no matter how loud his joints shift.

it's a divine miracle granted that rodimus didn't question your request of rooming with ultra magnus, under the premise of a work-related agreement. granted, some of the more rowdier crewmates suggested the obvious. efforts to keep your blossoming relationship under wraps were made long ago.

while there is little to pin rumors from in behavior - you'd share quiet looks across the hall, ultra magnus rarely raised his voice in your presence and never seemed to have issues with your data even with a spelling mistake (or four).. well. what good was a crew without gossip?

an unnamed engineer claims he's seen you nestled against ultra magnus's chassis. another chirps that his servos always glide along your back as if looking for something he had misplaced. whirl bets screws are loose and that you always have a limp to your gait - what else the source than the clear, animalistic fucking between you two?

no one listens to whirl. you shake the humor of accuracy before focusing back on your lover before he starts to twitch.

"say it, magnus." the mech whines. it should sound strange - it doesn't. you can tell when he resets his vocalizer, dizzy.

"i'm. i'm... i'm...!" large wrists twist, brief. you admire in silence, satin threatening to burst with his agony. this test of discipline the pair of you know he indulges, so the pristine bow stays in place - he groans under a roll of your hips, so much tinier than his, engines roaring to life.

"let it out, honey. you've been working so much lately."

magnus finally relents. "i'm. stunning." he could write pages and pages of how hypnotic your body looks, rocking against his rigid frame with expertise that'd put succubi to shame.

his faceplate is warm, biting back his shame because the lack of yours is just so nice to stare at. in fact, if he didn't know better, he'd say you were smug.

"say it again. you're stunning. you're beautiful. you're strong."

ultra takes the challenge in stride, noting his temperature inclines starting to ping him, adjusting cooling fans so as not to burn you.

he would never, never hurt you.

"i'm.. hagggh. please, my love, you're too-"

a wrong answer, for now. his pedes cannot spare the release of kicking. not when that same, titanium white silk is keeping the illusion of packaging.

"i don't want to hear anything, not even about me. tonight is all for you."

no human will ever share the strength to lift his tied servos, but he lets you anyways. gaze intense watching your lips drag to kiss the sides of them, tongue laving out to catch the ridges of a hefty digit.

"but i can't help it, darling. you squeeze me so much. you're so tight, hah. you're going to.. t-to-to.."

as much as his processors scream to undo his capture, it'd be a shame to ruin your pretty handiwork.

'pretty only because it's on you', previously moaned in his audials. before that cherry red grin goes to sipping your coffee and leaving him a joor just like this, to finish the analytic reports he had assigned you to finish.

"i'm stunning - frag. i'm stunning. i'm beautiful."

embarrassment collects thick at his core. he knows the underside of your legs must be painted pink by now. knows from the way you ride him faster that he's still being good, that you won't leave him high and dry and primus, he feels weak and -

"'m strong."

if weakness meant melting pitiful in you, under the addiction of flesh, he'll die and drift to the allspark blissful!

meanwhile, you're close to ecstasy. have been since he first introduced himself to the charming little analyst, simultaneously nervous and stiff. delighted to see even then he was trying not to wander, servos clenched.

on a first glance, annoyance. in reality? restraint.

"i love you."

ultra magnus curses. or it sounds so, a clutter of grinding gears and low vibrations you dazedly recognized as cybertronian. impish you isn't mean enough to ask for a translation.

"'m close. going to.. going to overload-"

"do so. fill me up, all of it, every drop. i want to walk with you dripping down my legs."

a laugh, sparkling and deep. "you're always so crude- ah!"

it's simply not realistic to hold all he offers. when you feel a familiar stretch and bulge your hips lift, still bucking the tip to ease him through the ferocious charge.

ultra magnus still can't believe how after the rumble of his frame ends you're still swift to tend to him. it's a nice feeling, watching you slowly undo his bondage, even rub your soft fingers along him as if they had caused any true damage.

a thick patch of fabric delicately dotes the seeping transfluid from his seams, sensitivity still gaining a groan or lilted sigh. determined as you are, he still scoops you up to glide closer to his dermas which you dutifully nip.

"stellar job as always, dear."

"mm. i will need.. a moment to recharge."

"just a moment?" a tittering laugh. "and here i thought you'd be ready for another round."

..

whirl eases from the habsuite hanger. if he had a jaw, or a face, or hell even a commlink that wasn't blocked by half the crew, he might have popped a circuit.

oh, he has a story to share and primus save whoever has to witness it.

robolvrr 2024

a/n: i am so helplessly in love with ultra magnus. take my offering. i feel like he needs a good roll in the bed and a bubble bath. whirl is not beating the humanfragger allegations.

[robolvrr]

HELLOOOO!!! just wanted to say, your writing is AWESOME!! also, i can't wait to see the upcoming chapters for galaxy girl!!

question, would you be open to writing sunder when your requests are open?

-✈️ anon

hello nonnie plane!

thank you www •́⁠ ⁠ ⁠‿⁠ ⁠,⁠•̀

great question. short answer: yes. long answer: i want to research him and his behaviors a bit more. he gives me the heebie jeebies in the best way.

(expect overlord and tarn eventually. and more pharma. i like em bad.)

i have some asks for em on the burner to practice too!

thanks for dropping by.

safe flight (lol),

robolvrr

[robolvrr]

can't get enough ! ⋆ ★

ratchet x gn! reader x drift warnings: nsfw. threesome.

pleasure threatens to lull you dumb.

close to it, anyhow. drift can tell, your spine arches helpless, feline and on the verge of that special something him and his partner can't explain.

what ever power you hold over the pair is beyond logic and they've given up the frivolities of embarrassment - it was much more interesting to see just what else you could do instead.

his optics brighten, blazing and wavering at the cusp of your ass. how it meets him in jerky, motivated smacks, veins rushing with blood and muscle and fat rippling by sheer force.

this image plays over and over, until a squeak politely reminds his servos to lessen their might, alloy thumbs smoothing over the raw skin in affectionate afterthought.

he remembers first approaching you and how silly it all was.

a human, with a cybertronian, let alone two? the thought was as taboo as it was unheard of, as far as his knowledge goes. he hadn't devoted himself to a life of modesty, but even he knew tipsy on engex that what he offered was scandalous.

the surprise from him and ratchet? painting worthy. you had smiled up to them so sweetly, their precious, little secret, whispering that you had noticed them both staring. that you invited it, gladly. that you were more than happy to introduce them to just how resilient the human body could be under the right circumstances.

"keep them steady."

ratchet's voice, itching with electricity and a buzz in his field he could never ignore, tears him from ruminating. the mech raises an optical ridge, half-gazing with a lazy sort of amusement. drift ignores the stammer of his spark, continuing his hips when you whine "right there, right there!" - his kind doesn't have to stop, doesn't tire the same way and can actually pound that spot in you that makes you squirt for as long and rough as you'd like.

since you've been good, since ratchet has given him the green flag to do so, drift makes sure the back of your thighs nuzzle the front of his, warmth and softness sending tingles to his sensors. he admires the way your arousal clashes, oil and water, bright carnation and creamy pearl pitter pattering puddles on the floor.

your toes curl and fingers ball to fists, jingle of a brand new gift making music near the curve of your neck.

ratchet had been the one to bestow it. made sure the golden charm was perfectly center when he had clasped it, tightened just shy of breathless.

the insinuations, reality of it all, still drive drift crazy. his groans grow heated, heightened by the uninterrupted watchfulness of his conjux.

your vision is blurred. lips parted, your chest is sticky while you work yourself on drift's spike, stomach bulging at the angle he's pretzeled you in. not that you're complaining. the warrior still treats a tangle of sex like a battlefield, more than observant for the ticks and triggers that'll earn him raspy sighs.

ratchet? is obsessive in his own ways. he commands respect and you rarely try your bratty tricks with him. you can tell he's in the mood for stress relief, servo cupping the underside of your sweat-slick chin.

"open your mouth."

"hhhhguh?"

shushing you, you fold as he leans forward.

"no need to use your pretty head. just open."

in seconds, the fat tip of his spike lands flat on your tongue. you don't have to be mindful of teeth, though relax your jaw in efforts to swallow as much of his girth as you can.

a groan signals you've been... improving.

shallow thrusts split your mind in half, not in pace with drift's. when you lose rhythm, either or of them gently nurture you back on course. if anyone walked in, it'd be a debauched scene worthy the grimiest of hedonia's pleasure habs.

flesh can't handle excitement this passionate the way metal does. white starbursts behind your then shut eyelids, whimpers petering to a roughed up whine as you flounder for support.

you feel... squished. sandwiched more - while you don't have the energy or frankly the autonomy to peek, your hearing is just as good. a swap of something wet. muffled moans.

they're kissing. and ratchet's spike is further down your throat than usual, drift's almost hilted from behind. their glossas messily unlatch from one another and both holes empty at the same time.

gooey, another weak hiccup leaves you. digits course across your scalp, back, cheekbones.

the lost light is quiet. your lovers are content and you - you just can't get enough of it.

robolvrr 2024

a/n : another of the drafts i HAD to get out. please. please. PLEASE get me between those old men. i just know they'd love a little pet tbh.

[robolvrr]

meet robolvrr ! ☄. *. ⋆

hiya! welcome to my little slice of life.

no minors. 18+ only. have your age somewhere, please!

moot friendly. outside contact wary. messages are open!

frequent poster of nsfw content on big robo hotties.

darker content (because some of these robots are insane) are marked.

not limitless, ask about kinks before requesting, thanks!

tend to do human readers though i can be flexible. gender neutral for most but some afab, amab, etc.

currently reworking blog aesthetics. slow progress for navigation!

[ requests - 4 / 11 ; closed ]

fics ༊*·˚

galaxy girl - swerve/whirl/rewind x fem! camgirl warnings - nsfw! (multichapter incoming)

silk baby - prowl x gn! human reader warnings - nsfw!

medical malpractice - pharma x gn! human reader warnings - medical/sensory play. dark content. nsfw!

you make me hard - whirl x gn! human reader warnings - mild blood. dirtytalk. humiliation/painplay. masochism. nsfw!

iron throne - starscream x gn! human reader warnings - nsfw!

pop 'n lock it - rodimus prime x gn! bounty hunter warnings - nsfw!

debt collector - pharma x gn! human reader warnings - dark content. medical play/toxic. nsfw!

headcanons ༊*·˚

swerve

late night adventures - bartender! reader (suggestive under cut.)

two bolts in a pod - gn! human reader (sfw)

d-16

phoenix, sing your song - fem cybertronian reader (nsfw under cut)

deja vu - fem conjux (nsfw under cut)

bumblebee

x

megatron

x

optimus prime

x

prowl

x

starscream

x

sentinel prime

x

drabbles ༊*·˚

shockwave

experimental ecstasy - shockwave x afab! human reader (nsfw)

prowl

cat 'n mouse - prowl x gn! jewel thief (suggestive)

[robolvrr]

hello! i saw requests were open. :>

i feel like you would write for tf! one sentinel very well. pretty blue bastard, always draped in gold but - he does show the capability to be knocked down a peg.

a human, prized by the quintessons as "incentive".. they end up being a bit too entertaining and bring a fake prime to his knees instead.

a/n : hi robolvrr, thank you for being my first request ! thanks for putting your faith in me , i hope i won't let you down with this <3

shades of blue and shame. sentinel (tf one)/reader. (nsfw!)(mdni!)

as much as you hate to admit it, blue is a nice look on sentinel — electric cobalt accentuated by the streaks of fluorescent gold.

he paints himself like a king, all flashy and bright. which makes him more annoying to you, someone who knows the truth beneath his tower of lies. if the quintessons hadn’t been so kind to you, showering you with riches and keeping you happy, you wouldn’t have agreed to negotiating with him. it speaks volumes on how irritating sentinel was, for the quintessons had passed him on to you, a human initially abducted to better facilitate mediation between them and organic races. and this was the first time you had to put in the work, considering that most of the time, the quintessons don’t even try to bargain before conquering entire planets.

you had no previous interest in cybertronians. you've seen plenty of impressive alien races in your line of work, the ability to transform and stand sixty feet tall shouldn't warrant even a sliver of special interest from you. but sentinel himself is a whole different conversation: conniving, shrewd, and self-serving to the point of tyranny, those who knew him behind his curated facade feared him. but while you've seen him bask in the sight of soldiers cowering at his pedes, you knew that for sentinel, nothing comes close to the feeling of being adored.

you've seen his optics and how they gleam under the sun as he steps out of his balcony to greet his naive citizens, chassis puffed out and preening as they worship him.

often you wonder how his people would react to seeing him for who he is: this cruel, deceitful pretender full of dirty little secrets. and considering that you've become one of those secrets, it gave you a sense of thrill to know that you could easily expose him: if not for a false saviour, for the mech he becomes when he's under you.

once you've discovered just how pliable the mech is under your touch, what started as a seductive technique to secure more energon for the hive turned into a weapon. you had your suspicions, from how you'd catch him staring at your cleavage (because he thought you were too busy reading the documents in your hand) to the subtle twitch of his fingers every time you furiously curse him.

before you would always have to go the extra mile to chase him down the hallways to yell your threats at him, these days you have the titan mass displaced and writhing beneath you, mouth gagged with the tie you always make an effort to wear for 'work'. with both thighs around his waist, knees pressed against the metal berth so that your cunt remains suspended over his weeping spike, you glide two fingers past the seam of his metal plating to stroke his neck cables: once, twice. he shudders at the contact, optics fluttering shut as his hips impatiently bucked upwards. but you pulled away, dragging a needy cry out of his vocal box.

" we had a deal, sentinel," you warned, ignoring how he jolted at the feel of your finger stroking down his midsection. " haven't i been nice to you? since you didn't end up on your end of the bargain, maybe i should just leave you like this?"

he let out a sharp whine in protest.

maybe sentinel was also your dirty little secret, because as pathetic as you find the mech, you find your heart racing whenever he eagerly gets on his knees.

sentinel was never meant to rule, he was forged to serve : eager and subservient, all ready for you. his arrogance long forgotten, buried next to his pride.

and truly, there was a certain kind of thrill seeing him like this: eagle-spread with servos chained up to the wall, arms pulled up to either side of his helm, sleek, metal legs quivering against your skin.

you think blue is a nice look on sentinel, but maybe not as nice as desperation.