#digital servo stabilizer

[nehakumarivoltsine]

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[shktelcp]

Tips for Buying a Voltage Stabilizer for Home

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Source Link: https://shaktielectricalcorporation.medium.com/tips-for-buying-a-voltage-stabilizer-for-home-0a1da465701f

[deltekpower]

Servo Voltage Stabilizers manufacturers in Hyderabad, Vijayawada

Deltek Power Lines is the manufacturer and supplier of servo voltage stabilisers, isolation transformers, and ups in Hyderabad, Warangal, Telangana, Vijayawada, Visakhapatnam, Andhra Pradesh, and India.

[rabotimagines]

Request for G1 Perceptor smut for @legendarycherryblossomlove

"Interest" GN BOT Reader x Perceptor

Summary: You tell your conjunx to keep info dumping while you keep your servos busy.

Genre/Theme: Smut scenario 🔞

Warnings: Semi public sex, Handjobs, MDNI

Pronouns: You, Your, Yours

Notes: Reader harasses their conjunx (Perceptor) just a bit

"Ah- it's good to see you this time of day." Perceptor smiled when you made your way into the group laboratory.

You come over to where he was working and leaned over his pauldron to stare at his petri dishes. Your frame gently pressing against his back, and your arms wrapping around him. Perceptor lets himself lean back against you, very much enjoying the soft touch of your affections. "I'm seeing how these samples react to our different solvents. So we can see what our approach towards cleaning different obstructions should be inclined towards."

Your servos had begun to idly trace the dips of his armor.

Your digits left soft warmth as they trailed along the lines that made up his boxy frame. "Of course, we can naturally use the information in case someone gets a bit of some natural material stuck in their struts. Or any of the other small areas that may be difficult to brush out the natural way. Like between the plating seams of your armor."

Your servos found his waist and moved to trace shapes on Perceptor's hips. "So if we simply figure out what solvents work the best, I'd like to craft a sort of spray nozzle that can cycle through the different solvents. For whenever one of us mechs gets unlucky and will need to be thoroughly clean- mph!" Perceptor abruptly jolts at the quick zap of light arousal, nearly biting down on his own glossia.

Perceptor hadn't realized your servos had trailed towards his modesty panel till you'd rubbed firmly against it. "Oh- What-?" You just tell Perceptor to keep talking. Your servos are now dragging along the dips and curves of his modesty panel.

"Oh... um, well yes-" Perceptor resets his vocalizor, his attention now drawn to how your servos and digits would trace the make up of his covered array. "So- to um, make a proper prototype, I need to test all the samples against all the solvents. And... as I stated, see which ones work the best against the other-" Perceptor's voice clips when you rub firmly against the flat of his modesty panel. Heat already circling boldly in his own array under the rather teasing act.

You were in the collective laboratory! Primus-! Anyone could rightfully just walk in on you two! Wheeljack could walk in behind the both of you, and you'd have no warning for it either!

Your frame presses flat against his back, and Perceptor's posture straightens out even more than it had been. Perceptor wordlessly watches your digits hook against the flat of his Modesty panel- heat swimming and pooling against his pelvis the longer you continued to tantalizingly grope at his covered array.

You ask him to open up, and Perceptor has to swallow the extra oral lubricant accumulating in his mouth.

.... Wheeljack wouldn't be too mad if he happened to stumble upon you two.

(At least Peceptor hoped he wouldn't-)

Perceptor's modesty panel pulls back, and his spike slowly pressurizes while you rub circles around his hips. You tell him to keep talking again when you cup his spike. Perceptor gasps and rushes to find his thoughts once more. "And it's quite fascinating that most the solvents don't have Ha-!" Your servo languidly begun stroking his spike. Perceptor's frame touches the front of the table edge, and he moves to grip it for stability.

"Most- most the solvents don't have a visible- a valid visible affect on the samples- ah, but when they sit soaked in them... they usually all seem to practically fall off the sample armor-" You grind your still closed modesty panel against Perceptor's aft, and he gasps.

Then you stopped moving when Perceptor had taken a klick to focus on venting.

Keep talking, you tell him once more.

Perceptor huffs before taking a moment to find his thoughts. His glossia sits heavy in his mouth. The last point he'd made of the experiment was much further from his processor than a few nano-klicks of silence.

But he did eventually find it again. "And- only one of the solvents-" Your servo speeds up, causing his pre lubricant to slick the inside your servo and begins to make an audible sound every time you'd pump your fist. "Hmph! Only one- one of the solvents has actually shown to- oh dear-!" Perceptors thighs pitch inward, and he leans against the table further.

You begin to slow when Perceptor stops and Perceptor rapidly moves his mouth to rectify that "One- One of the solvents has actually shown to break down the-" Perceptor grunts and moans when your other servo grabs onto the indent of his front chassis glass. And you physically used it as a hold to pull him back against your own frame. While you rocked your hips forward again against him.

"Break- break down all of the samples I have available on- oh Primus! On the sample armor!" You hum casually against him as if you were actually finding his findings intriguing and not- Perceptor pants and sighs leaning back against your also heated frame. You just rock against him harsh enough that he's practically forced to buck into your servo. Your servo dragging his own spike oh so hotly- Perceptor's own pleasure begins to bump up a level higher every time you pump his spike.

And you ask him how he's going to make the spray nozzle.

Perceptor can barely recall his plans for the spray nozzle, but he attempts to start explaining regardless, "I'm going to- Gha!" Your servo picks up, and any coherent thought relating to his findings gets pushed right out of Perceptor's processor. "I'm going to-!"  His hips buck against your servo, making more of his pre lubricant coat your servo. Your servo hooked on his chassis glass squeezes tighter and you use your hold to firmly tip his frame back against your own even further. You hold him against you when Perceptor started overloading onto the table.

Your designation ends up tumbling out of his mouth with a gasp. His overload hits him, and he's moaning against you and gasping for vents while you just continue to jerk his spike through his own high. "Oh- dear- oh Primus!" Perceptor mutters and arches against your frame and hold. His pedes twist against their placement on the ground, and his digit pads rank over the tables edge. His overload coursed through his frame with a pressing need, and Perceptor was unable to deny it the heady satisfaction.

Perceptor relaxes when his spike stops throbbing and charges stop shooting through his plating. "Primus." Perceptor pants and readjusts his grip on the tables edge to stand correctly once more. You hum and thank him for keeping up with your interest.

Perceptor can't help chuckling  "Yes well- now the price of your interest is you're going to have to get me a new sample of beach sand." Perceptor states before picking up the petri dish with the now ruined sample of sand to show you.

Ruined by his transfluid.

You sigh at the sight and say you'll go. And untangle yourself from Perceptor very obviously not excited by the task.

Perceptor supposed he could indulge his perverted conjunx just a touch more...

"I'll reward you when you get back if you do it quick enough." You perk up at Perceptor's words and make a dash for the door, saying you'll be back before he knows it.

Perceptor smiles, watching you rush for the door- only to jump when you barrel directly into Wheeljack, who was about to enter. Promptly sending the two of you tumbling down in the hallway. The laboratory door automatically shuts behind you both.

Oh dear- Perceptor moved to go help only to remember what you'd just done. His optics brighten, and instead, Perceptor subspaces his ruined sample and grabs a lab cloth to wipe the mess left on the table. He then makes sure he's modest before he goes to help you off of Wheeljack.

What was he going to do with you?

[optimusxwbu]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ mtmte megatron x human fem reader 18+

-> warnings/tags: 18+, rough-ish sex, size difference, tummy bulge.

-> minors dni, you will be blocked!

i’ve been out of writing for 4+ years so may be a little rusty!! (pls be gentle with me) i intend to write a big fic with mtmte megatron but i needed to get the nsfw brainworms out of my head asap <3 also, i posted this before, but didn't realise tumblr would block ppl from seeing it if nsfw was in the tags - so i'm reuploading it!

────୨ৎ────

It would be a long, challenging, and tiring fight when the mutineered members of the Lost Light rallied against the DJD. Without Megatron, you all would have undoubtedly perished at the end of Tarn’s fusion cannon. You, especially, were truly unable to do anything but hide away in the deceased Necrobot’s home like some sheltered and helpless pet and plead with a higher power that Megatron and the others would be brought back to you.

You were sitting perched on the edge of a desk in a tucked-away surveillance room on the far end of this maze-like place, somewhere Megatron had deposited you before leaving to ensure that you were as safe as could be without him there to supervise.

The skin around your nails was starting to splinter off from how much you had been picking at it, suspension and dread cascading through your system as every minute felt like an eternity, the silent command in the air to be patient and to stay here as Megatron had implored, leaving you here with nothing but the ghost of his lips pressed against yours before making his hurried leave. You couldn’t bear the thought of that being the last time his lips ever graced yours. The last time you would ever see him.

It took everything within your power not to leap off the edge of the desk when the door you were staring at hissed open, the broad silhouette of Megatron filling the open space, his form engulfing any light that would have spilled into the room. A gasp was trapped in your lungs, and your eyes widened as Megatron allowed himself into the small surveillance room.

“You’re here,” you uttered, almost in disbelief, fingers curling around the edge of the desk as though you would float away into a dream if you were to let go.

“I’m here,” Megatron echoed, stability and calmness in his voice that did not at all convey the actions he had just committed against his former student.

The heavy metal door slid shut behind him, eclipsing the room once more with nothing more than the blue light of the monitors behind you to dimly illuminate the room. The blue light bounced off the dull grey of his metal armour as he closed the distance between the two of you, standing in front of you at his staggering height.

His neck craned down to look at you, your eyes glued to his optics as they had a glassy film to them.

“Mass displace, please,” you whispered, almost uncertainly.

Without a word, he followed your request and his form began to fold in on itself, taking him from 38 feet down to roughly 12 feet, still quite a lot bigger than you, but more manageable.

His right servo skimmed over your left hand, both hands still clenching to the edge of the desk, a mute request that you understood, unclasping your hand and allowing him to thread his digits in between your fingers. His other servo came up to gently push a strand of hair behind your ear, moving to cup the back of your head as his helm lowered.

“Did I not promise that I would make it back to you?” He softly whispered against your lips. Your unoccupied hand cupped his cheek, half-lidded eyes falling shut before you made the final movement that allowed your lips to come together.

Even mass displaced, it felt a little awkward to kiss a being that was nearly triple your height, but you had become so accustomed to loving this titan that you couldn’t imagine it any other way. Albeit, your recreational activities were made much easier thanks to the handiwork of Brainstorm, who so kindly created a mass displacement device for you after your perpetual nagging.

“And I never would have forgiven you if you broke that promise,” you hushed into his intake between intermittent breaks of your lips.

The servo that was tangled with your fingers pulled away and instead gripped on the outside of your knee, snaking underneath so that he could hoist your leg up over his hip plating, pulling you closer to the edge of the desk and causing your skirt to slip further up your legs.

“Now we can’t be having that,” the digits tangled in your hair tightening slightly, “can we?”

You huffed a laugh, both arms winding their way around the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you as he arched over, accounting for the difference in his height.

“I want you,” you stated simply, hips betraying your self-control by slightly grinding against the front of his panels without your explicit intention to do so, your lips capturing his again.

“Now?” he smirked against the kiss, the air of the long battle already leaving him, only now engrossed in this very moment with you.

“Right now,” you sounded almost breathless, but your hand was on its determined path to find his servo that was holding your leg, tugging at it so that you could lead him where you wanted him. Without hesitation, you guided his servo to disappear under the material of your skirt, your small and skillful fingers singling out only his middle digit as you pressed it up against your clit through your underwear, “and right here.”

A hum rumbled in his vocaliser as he used the flat pad of his middle digit to rub against your covered clit, the kiss deepening as you felt his glossa peek out to run across your bottom lip.

He started with slow circles, making your back arch slightly as you let out a shaky breath through your nose. His finger was larger than you were used to when he’s using the mass displacement device, meaning he couldn’t be as precise as normal, but that didn’t take away from the heat coursing through you at his touch.

Changing his tune, he started to rub long lines up and down, past your clit and against your slit before making his way back up. You whimpered slightly and your fingers clutched onto his chassis.

“Just like that,” you cooed, encouraging him to continue.

The metal under your hands started to heat up as you noticed that you were getting wetter from his delicate petting.

The servo that wasn’t moving between your legs moved to grasp at the material of your top, near where it was tucked into the waistband of your skirt. Strong digits pulled the material up, freeing it from your skirt, and hoisted it up over your chest.

Your hands parted from his frame, doing the rest of the legwork to pull your top up over your head, hesitantly pulling away from his intake to allow yourself to do so. You swung the top to the left of you, letting it fall down to the ground.

With hunger, you greedily took his mouth again, hands more frantic as they now snaked up around the back of his neck, letting your nails mildy graze the cabling that you found there.

The sound that left his vocaliser was divine, your lips pulling into a smirk as you continued to twist your nimble fingers into the intricate layout of his wiring.

His middle finger worked around the edge of your underwear, pushing it to the side so that he had unrestricted access to you. Without a moment of warning, he pushed his digit inside of you, the blunt tip of it making a harsher entrance than when you take the tapered tip of his spike.

You moaned into his mouth at the intrusion, bringing your other leg up to dangle over his hip, offering yourself more freely to him.

His servo wrapped around the small of your back, resting there to keep you as close to him as he could whilst still allowing his digit to work magic inside of you. He curled the tip up, finding the spongy part of your walls that made you see stars when he tended to it real good.

“Please don’t stop,” you pleaded against his mouth, pulling away from his lips for the first time properly to throw your head back, his movements quickening, beckoning you to the finish line.

“How could I refuse when you beg so sweetly?” He mused, lowering his helm further to tuck in between your shoulder and neck, letting his intake latch onto you there and kiss you fervently.

The way he was bent over your form was almost comical; he was still just so large, and a part of you cursed yourself for not bringing the mass displacement device. Who would’ve thought you’d need it?

Your arousal was coating his digit, each second getting easier and easier to slip in and out of you as he worked you further up the scale.

The room was filled with the subtle sound of the monitors buzzing, your weak mewls, and the wet sound of him driving in and out of you, your wetness seeping in between the joints of his digit, something he’ll thoroughly enjoy cleaning with his glossa later.

Your right hand moved away from his neck, skimming down the front of his chassis as you reached his hip plating. You ghosted your fingers over the front panel that was concealing his spike, a gentle thrumming coming from the area, a tell-tale sign that he was aching behind it.

“Open up for me,” you ordered sweetly.

“A-Are you sure?” Megatron retorted, lips halting against your neck and pulling back slightly to meet your eyes, skeptical, as he was well aware of his size right now.

“Please show me your spike,” you looked down to his lips, “I can feel how bad you want it.”

Without a word, you heard the subtle hiss of his panel retracting, allowing his spike to protrude out. You made an effort to lean back and look at it, not seeing it at this size since the first time you tried (and failed) to fuck him, before Brainstorm gave you the mass displacement device.

“Look at how worked up you are,” you teased, running your soft fingers up his length, collecting the leaking transfluid that spilled out of the tip, “would you like help with that?”

You wrapped your hand around his girth, noting how your fingers couldn’t touch. His cooling fans clicked on as his helm nodded, but only shallowly.

“Say it,” you pressed.

“I want- I want you to help,” he confirmed, digit never ceasing to falter inside of you.

You gave a victorious smile and rolled your head, and you pumped his length languidly, making his frame shudder. With a newfound determination, his ministrations inside of your cunt became more desperate, eager to have you squeezing around his digit.

Leaning back slightly, bringing your other hand to place behind you on the desk to keep you stabilised, you looked up into his burning red optics. The eye contact had him hot and bothered, if his rapid cooling system was anything to go by. He loved the way your muscles flexed around the width of his digit.

His digit drove in and out of you like it was the last thing he would do. Your toes curled as you could feel yourself getting dangerously close to cumming, your wrist faltering slightly, focus derailed by how much pleasure he was giving you at this moment.

“Megatron,” you moaned, body tensing and back arching. His lips parted slightly, utterly enamored with the sight of you.

And just like that, you felt the waves take you as your brain fizzled with stars, cunt tightening around him and the moan that left your lips left no room for doubt that you had definitely just cum for him.

You panted slightly, holding onto his spike tighter as you tried to lead him closer to you with it.

He got the hint, pulling his digit from you, allowing your underwear to move back into place slowly and he gently rested the weight of his cock on top of your cunt. You gyrated your hips against the underside of him, giving him a clear indication of what you wanted.

Okay, this could work, he thought.

Both of his servos gripped your hips as you lowered yourself down onto both elbows. Your legs wrapped around his hips now as best you could, but with the size difference, your legs couldn’t reach each other.

Experimentally, he gave a thrust, pulling and pushing his spike against the friction of your underwear, catching your clit on the way. Your skirt was completely bunched up by your hips now, it probably would’ve been better to take it off completely, but you had no desire to halt this moment.

You angled your hips up so that he was at an angle where his spike would glide so wonderfully against your slit. The wet patch grew in your underwear as the pressure of his heavy spike teased you, your body still a little overstimulated from your previous orgasm.

He ex-vented, all of his pent-up energy expelling from him gradually as his hips picked up the pace, optics locking onto your chest, which was still covered by your bra. Even with the coverings, you still bounced beautifully as he manhandled your body.

Adjusting your legs, you brought them further to your chest so that you could lock your thighs around his spike, the balls of your feet resting on his chassis.

“Primus have mercy,” you heard Megatron mumble under his breath, barely concealed by the fans regulating his heat.

You squeezed the muscles of your thighs, peering down to where his spike appeared and disappeared between your legs, feeling the material of your underwear sticking to you from the wetness building.

Megatron’s strong servos gripped your hips harder, causing a whine to bend in your throat. You couldn’t help when your hips bucked, desperate for the feel of him.

His hot pink transfluid that wept from his tip leaked onto your thighs, smearing like a beautiful piece of art as he continued to thrust, your body his canvas.

As if you would vanish if he didn’t keep himself grounded, he pulled your hips onto him to meet his thrusting, your weight meaning essentially nothing to him. He used your thighs and reveled in the soft feel of them, so plush and giving.

You couldn’t help another moan escaping you as he thrust particularly hard against your clit, the sight of his beautiful silver spike with red accents causing your brain to momentarily freeze. You couldn’t control your need for him.

“Put it in and fuck me,” you said, determination littered throughout your tone.

“My love-” he started, hips staggering with the thought of being stuffed inside of you, but his tone showed a level of wariness.

“I can take it,” you insisted, “I promise I can take it.”

And you were sure that you could. Yeah, maybe you couldn’t take it the very first time. But how many times, since having the device,  has he fucked you now? You were sure that your body would be far better prepared to take him now.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he hesitated, peering down at the size of his spike against the size of your legs, he wasn’t certain it would fit.

“And if it hurts, I’ll tell you,” you reasoned with him, “then you can stop. But please, Megatron, I need you inside of me.”

You pulled your legs away from him, maneuvering your body to sit up so that you could unclasp your bra hurriedly, discarding it into the same area you threw your top to.

Megatron watched your body, spike bobbing with a burning ache. Who was he to deny you of something that he also so desperately wanted?

Gingerly, he tucked his hands into the elastic of your underwear by your hips, looking into your eyes for more approval, which he found in abundance. With that, he pulled the flimsy material down your legs.

Rather than chucking them with the rest of your clothing, he opened up a subspace and put the underwear in there for ‘safekeeping’.

A giggle left you as you grabbed his spike again, “saving those for later?”

“When I’m through with you,” he allowed you to line his spike with your entrance, “you won’t have enough energy for later.”

That promise was enough for you, feeling a pulse beat through your clit, your eyes gleaming with excitement.

Carefully, he started to push his tip into you, bringing his servos down to wrap around your waist. Like this, the tips of his fingers nearly touched.

Your body instinctively made your back arched as he began to spread you open on him. Your hands came to grab onto his forearms for something to keep you centered as you lowered your back onto the cold surface of the metal desk.

More and more, he slowly eased his ridiculous length into you, taking the very air from your lungs as you felt there was no end to him. He would continue to move into you forever.

His thumbs caressed your ribcage soothingly, “you’re doing so well, my sweet girl.”

“Fuck,” you huffed, eyebrows threading together as your mouth dropped open.

“Nearly there.”

“Mmhm, yeah, keep talking me through it,” you said with a wry smile, only half joking.

You felt the warm metal of his hips against the underside of your thighs.

Fuckfuckfuck, you felt so full. You swore you could feel him in your lungs.

“Look at you, look at how well you take me now,” Megatron praised, and despite his confident demeanour, the threads of his mind were also fraying at the edges from how amazing you felt. Tightness on a different kind of level.

You whined at that, body tingling with excitement as you flittered your eyes to look at his optics, which you noticed were glued down to where the two of you connected.

Moaning, he pulled out before sheathing himself back in. The self-restraint he was showing right now was impressive, but it wasn’t want you wanted.

“I want you to fuck me like you mean it,” you uttered up to him.

Like a dam breaking at the words, he fulfilled your wish. He held onto you and then started to rut into you with reckless abandon, making you give out those sweet pleases and mores and ah-ah-ahs.

He was so big, so much bigger than anything you’d ever taken, but your body accommodated him so nicely.

A moan was caught in your throat, your head thrown back with your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he bulldozed a path through you, demanding that your body bends to his very will.

“Primus, you are… you are so tight,” his deep voice rumbled, “so tight and so needy.”

One servo left your waist, instead grabbing onto your ankle to pull your leg up, allowing more room for him. His servos kept you steady, but this angle had him bullying his spike right against your g-spot. Your hand flew up to cover your mouth because the sounds you were making were downright sinful, you could hardly believe they were coming from you.

You were spread to your very limit on him, he took every inch inside of you and there was no room for anything else.

“No,” Megatron let out, “I want to hear you moan for me.”

Your whole body was radiating heat as you trembled, your hands left your mouth at his request, and one went to find the servo still wrapped around your waist, gripping it as if it could keep you within this realm of reality. Your other hand lowered to the desk, nails scratching against the surface.

Tears pooled in the corner of your eyes as the pleasure was sending you trigger-happy. Your pussy so hot, slick, and throbbing for him, milking against the solid metal of his spike, begging for his release.

The servo that was on your leg moved to the back of your head, lifting it slightly and angling it down so that you could look at the mess that was growing between your legs.

Oh, my good god.

He was so big, and it looked like a monster against you.

“Look at how much of a mess you’re making on me,” he chided.

You could see the milky whiteness of your pleasure pooling at the base of his spike like a ring, making the whole scene a diluted pink with his transfluid. You let out an involuntary moan at the sight.

“Scream, scream for me and scream my name,” he commanded, but his tone was far from demanding, more like begging. He needed to hear it. Needed to hear his name fall from your pretty lips.

“Megatron!” You obeyed, eyes growing foggy with tears until you could blink, pushing the tears over the edge and down your cheeks, “Megatron, please, fuck!” Your voice strained, tone raising an octave or two.

All rational thought dissipated from your mind, leaving you as if you never had any to begin with. All you could think about was him, his spike, and how you could see him in your stomach.

The baby hairs on your head stuck to your forehead as you began to overheat, ears filling with the sound of metal slapping against your skin and Megatron’s low moans and grunts.

Every time he pulled out and pushed back in, it was as if he was activating a chemical reaction in your body that drove you further into ecstasy. Your screams and moans were loud and unabashed, praying to a higher power that none of the crew were anywhere near this room, as they most certainly would have heard what the two of you were up to.

Both of his servos now grasped onto an ankle each, forcing your legs to spread wider. His helm was thrown back as his mind focused on the only task of carving your walls to the shape of him.

Your hand moved down your body, settling over where you could see him inside of you and pressing down on it.

It felt otherworldly to take him at this size. You weren’t sure if you could fuck regularly like this, as you could only imagine how sore you’ll be after this, but every now and then couldn’t hurt, right?

His voicebox glitched as he moaned, optics offlining for half a second. God, it was so sexy to hear him like that. Having him as putty in your hands as he drove his spike in and out of you like it’s the only thing he was built for.

“I’m-” he began, processor working overtime, “I’m gonna overload.”

You mewled in a high pitch tone, “please, inside, insideinsideinside,” you pleaded, “fill me up. Fuck, think about how full I’ll be with your transfluid.”

Your voice shook as your legs trembled in his grasp, your own orgasm not far off.

His intake moved towards your right ankle, pressing his lips against it as he moaned, the vibrations running down your leg as his hips began to falter, he was so close the finish line could almost taste it, like the sweetest engex he’s ever had the pleasure of consuming.

With a cry of your name, you felt the hot sensation of his thick transfluid fill the cavity of your cunt, painting your insides a beautiful hot pink, his biolights pulsing with colour whilst he was buried all the way inside of you.

The mental image of how much fluid was just dumped inside of you took your right over the tophat with him, eyes clenching shut as your body quivered, white heat pulsing through your veins as you let out a weak cry for him, announcing your climax.

Gradually, his cooling fans started to decrease as you lay beneath him, catching your breath as best you could whilst you had that monster still lodged inside of you.

His left servo came under your back to support you as he slowly pulled himself out, leaving the bottom half of your body limp. With hazy eyes, you looked for him and gave a weak smile, too fucked out of your mind for anything else.

Megatron leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your lips, spike retracting back into his interface panel. You’d have to make sure he cleaned it properly later.

“Did so good for me,” he complimented you, “all mine.”

A hum of approval sounded from you, “all yours.”

Transfluid leaked out of you now, some catching on the desk whilst the majority of it gushed over the edge and dripped to the floor. You would definitely have to clean up before you left this room, but you weren’t sure if there was anything in here you could actually use to clean it.

As if reading your mind, Megatron raised himself from you and clambered on top of the desk next to you, “we’ll clean up later.”

He lifted you from the surface and into his arms, lowering himself so that he was lying flat on the desk, bringing you down to lay on his chassis. Your cheek rested against his Autobot insignia, delicate fingers coming up to trace the elegant markings on his plating.

Your body would definitely ache in the morning, but you couldn’t think about that as he was running a servo over your back gently, lulling you into sleep. 

[jweekgoji]

Hiii I really like your writings and headcanons, especially the ones with yandere sentinel from TF 1 being a sub and us being a power femdom.id really appreciate it if you could write about yn or us finding sentinel after Megatron kills him and we repair sentinel just for him to be our dedicated servant boy put on a leash his entire life.

If you don't feel comfortable with the request you can ignore it and take your time no pressure! ❤️

Sentinel/Reader [TFO]

tw: dark themes, emotional manipulation, power imbalance, touch starvation/co-dependency, brief description of past trauma, anxiety, mentions of death, injuries, angst, dubcon [at the end], reader gets a little yandere-ish. word count: ~1830. a/n: i like this request so much, hehehe.

When you first saw your leader being ripped apart by one of the iaconian miners, you were devastated and as shocked as everyone else. Waking up early today, getting ready for another, long and tiring day of work only to suddenly learn that the bot you looked up to was lying to everyone for 50 cycles?

It felt so surreal, here you were standing over the Sentinel Prime. Ruler of Iacon City yesterday, and a leftover piece of scrap today. You're still not certain how you feel about him after what happened. Maybe it was a remnant of admiration for him, after all, how much has passed since the fight?

You were probably standing there for a good few minutes, staring down at Sentinel, not a word or a flick of emotion on your face. That was, until you heard heavy footsteps behind you and a large servo placed on your shoulder.

“You don't have to do this, I can take care of him if you want,” Optimus says carefully. For some reason, the young Prime already felt responsible for his people.

There was a brief silence between the two of you before you shook your helm in response. You didn't want to bother Optimus with this, knowing that he had gone through enough for the past few days. This is the least you can do, helping with rebuilding a new Iacon and getting rid of the past.

A soft sigh escapes your lips once Optimus leaves you alone. This wasn't supposed to be so hard, wasn't it? Just pick him up, and then...what else? Does Sentinel, the selfish betrayer of his own kind, deserve some respect even after his death? To bury him might be a too much of a kind gesture from you, considering that he had no kindness for anyone but himself. On the other hand, melting his remnants still doesn't sound right for you.

You would have kept thinking about it for hours, until a brief, almost too light to notice pulsating of a spark under the tips of your digits caught your attention. You pause, in mind an immediate “am I imagining this? was it real?”, it felt like everything just went quiet around you. A soft beat, then another. Despite everything, the spark inside his chamber was still beating.

And so, you decided to take care of him.

It was a miracle that he survived. The impact of his injuries should have left him dead, you swear, no, everyone swear to see the light goes off from his optics. He was dead, there are no possible explanation for him not to stay offline like he supposed to be. Some might consider it a blessing of Primus himself, for you just a pure luck.

Outliving 13 Primes, somehow not getting killed by quintessons during one of the secret meetings, and now you, the bot who decided to let him live, even though ignoring everything might have been the best solution.

After countless days of work, you are finally able to stabilize his systems, fixing up a few dents here and there, probably left after his last fight with the silver bot. For a cogless miner before, that mech was surprisingly strong, you note.

You hold a piece of a small energon cube in the palm of your servo. Was it the right choice? You never tell anyone, not even Optimus about what you have found. You knew Sentinel would be thrown in prison, if lucky, or hunted down by Megatron if the news reached him. No, you already went too far, letting anyone find out about Sentinel would be a huge mistake. That's why you made sure he didn't get to keep his lower half of the body. He should never be able to leave.

When you gently pushed the energon cube into his mouth, letting it slip down his throat, you waited. A second of silence...another few—until his optics begin to shine light blue once again. You open your mouth to start explaining everything, but you are immediately interrupted by a loud “no!” and you have to clamp your servo over his mouth to make him quiet.

The mech in front of you remembers only the last few seconds before he went offline, that burning pain through his whole body is now forever printed in his mind. You can see the genuine fear in his optics, which soon changed into surprise once he processed everything. He wasn't in the center of Iacon. No one, but you were around him.

Only after a good few minutes of soft explaining calmed his raising spark. Sentinel was relieved, after all, there are some loyal worshippers of his who took care of him and repaired him! As you stood in front of the former leader, you made sure to leave no details about everything that happened after. A new Prime was born, and D-16, now well known as Megatron, is one of the future concerns for everyone in Iacon besides quintessons. Even after his «death» Sentinel made sure to leave a huge impact on your lives for cycles and cycles in the future.

“And about...the other part of me?” Sentinel asks, glancing down where his lower half should be before looking back at you.

You go silent for a mere second before a quick “I wasn't able to repair it” excuse slips from your glossa.

Thankfully, he swallows this response rather quickly, and without questioning any further, that smug smirk appears on his face, ready to boss you again. It was amusing at first. In such a position, Sentinel forgets, he's a no Prime anymore, just another cogless bot left at your mercy.

You were merciful enough to let him live in this fantasy, letting him think that he has that control over something, despite how annoying he gets whenever you don't do something immediately. What do you mean you have to leave him? He's Sentinel Prime, you should obey and listen to him!...Please?

Maybe in the back of his mind, he slowly realizes it. He's dependent. He can't live without you, he can't even reach for a cube of an energon for himself without you kindly putting it on the tip of his glossa. If you suddenly decide to leave him, he's all alone. That takes a good sacrifice of his own pride to give you a few signs, angrily growling a “Don't you dare to leave!” or “I am not done with you, come back this instant!”.

When you had to leave today once again, making him suffer in the silence of his own thoughts and a soft humming of mechanisms in this room, he felt insecure. He hates it, waiting and counting the seconds until you finally come back to him. How could you disrespect him like this? Who do you think you are, huh?

“Oh, please, leave then! I don't need you anyway,” Sentinel says proudly, rolling his optics with a slight annoyance hidden in his tone.

He doesn't need your help, if you leave, it would change nothing for him. You're just another nameless bot, the one who supposed to serve and listen to him, after all. If you don't want to do what he says, there will certainly be someone else to replace you. Right?

Then why, why he feels that deep, suffocating feeling every time you leave? When he calls your name over and over again, his tone changes from an authoritative to a weak, pleading one. No, no, no, you wouldn't really leave him, would you? He panics, breathing a little heavy at the realization that there he is, with no one but him in here. He's so, so screwed.

With each passing hour, his anxiety grows even more. From the most ridiculous to the most horrifying scenarios, he can't help but silently plead for your soon return. A constant “come back, please, please come back, you can't just leave me here,” in his thoughts. Sentinel would certainly go insane if it weren't for a soft hiss of an opening door. You were back.

Once you are close to him, he quickly wraps his servos around you, clinging to your frame for a dear life. You can hear him, muttering something under his breath over and over again, and without a need to ask him to repeat his words, you understand everything.

“I would never leave you, Sentinel,” you say softly, placing your servo on the side of his face, only for him to lean into it, as if begging for more.

“Please don't,” he whispers back, his servo moving to the back of your helm, making you lean closer to his height so he could kiss you.

Who would have thought that Sentinel Prime is such a touchstarved mech? Begging someone to notice him? Like you? If only you had known that leaving a poor bot for a good day or two all alone would make him such a sucker for attention, you would have done it much sooner.

And suddenly Sentinel is not that annoying, noisy menace, as you remember. Every soft sound he lets out, every gentle caress and touch of his servos on your frame, feels like a desperate attempt to make you stay. He wants to show you that he's worthy of your time, if only you stay!

Sentinel's hold on you is tight, as he keeps you right next to him, afraid that the moment he lets go, you're going to disappear. Just a mere thought of it makes him whine into the kiss, and he pushes his glossa into your mouth, as if hoping to please you.

The moment you pull away from him, Sentinel grips tighter, mewling a soft “no”, a look of desperation in his optics. You can't help but feel a pang of satisfaction from it. How couldn't you, when you have someone who is always so needy of your attention? Always looking forward to the moment you come back?

At this point, he doesn't care what he has to do to keep you with him for another minute or two. The old, commanding and cruel part of him is so ashamed of what he has become. Any other good day in past, you would already be mining energon and hoping for a better future, and he would be a king, just like he was supposed to.

“Please, use me, however you want just— just don't go,” he pleads once again, his servos tightening around your wrists, wanting and needing you closer.

And how can you really tell him no if he asks you so, so nicely today?

You only nod gently at his another plead, placing your servo on top of his helm to gently nudge him lower and to position him between your thighs. Sentinel was so great with every word of his speeches that it's no surprise that he certainly knows how to use his own tongue.

[monstertreden]

⊹ ࣪EVERYTHING I FIGHT FOR ⊹ ࣪

-Reader: GN reader (platonic) -TW: none -Character: Optimus Prime (Transformers series) -Summary: Optimus is the best sire anyone could ask for, except when he must leave on various missions away from Cybertron. It was during those times that the absence felt so unbearable that his sparkling would sneak onto the ship... -Word count : 1747 -A/N: S/N = Sparkling Name I had this in my drafts for a while now, I've been kinda busy lately,,damn

Long warm shadows coated the landing Ark, its familiar silhouette descending towards Cybertronian grounds. The hum of engines quieted as the first bot to step onto the ground was none other than Optimus Prime himself. Exhausted, he let out a sigh of relief. After all those endless missions and difficult decisions, Prime could finally step his pedes home.

Yet, before he could even make his announcement, a streak of bright, young energy burst from the crowd of Autobots waiting to greet him.

“Ack-- hey watch it!”

 “Ouch- they stepped on my pedes--"

“My new paint job! noooo-"

 A sparkling, one that could barely reach his stabilizing servos, dashed toward him at full speed, their optics wide with excitement. “Sire!”  Their voice rose above the crowd's murmurs to get his attention. Arms open wide, they barrelled toward him like an unstoppable force.

“Sire!” They jumped up and down as they neared. Surprised but overjoyed, Optimus stretched his arms just in time to catch them before they could slam themself against his legs. After scooping them up into a gentle but firm embrace, he then lifted them high into the air!

“Little one” At the contagious laugh of his sparkling his optics lit up with genuine joy " There you are”

“Sire! Sire! You’ve come back!” They hugged his digit tightly, beaming with excitement for his arrival, he was finally home!  Primus- their grip on his arms was utterly strong for their size, an unspoken plea for reassurance.

Looking at his sparkling, he replied softly  “Yes, little one, I’ve come back.” He gently stroked their helm with one of his servos.

"Sometimes duty calls, but rest assured, I always come back here, to you-”

The smaller bot nestled into his embrace,  as if every mission, every farewell, could take him away from them. “-That’s a promise." For Optimus, the battles and long journeys seemed worth it, just to feel them there, thanking Primus that they were safe in his arms.

“ What did you do this time?? Did you help the humans? Kicked bad guys???-” They started yapping about, excited to hear more of their sire’s stories. “- I want to join you too!” Eager to hear more, they wiggled slightly in his hold.

“Patience” Optimus paused their rambling  “You have plenty of time to grow strong and learn. But for now...your most important job is staying safe and keeping that bright spark of yours shining.”

“But sireee, I can fight those scarp-heads! I can help you!” They insisted.

“Language first, S/N” Optimus raised a brow plate, which made the sparkling freeze for a nanoclick, immediately crossing their arms in a pout. “But they are scrap-heads…”

The Prime managed to chuckle “Even so, you must remeber, words carry as much power as actions. Use them wisely.” He continued, “I have no doubt you’ll become a force to be reckoned with someday. But for now, the best way you can help me is by being here learning, experiencing and assisting in the growth of Cybertron. It needs your help, you, see?” Turning slightly, Optimus gestured outward, drawing his youngling’s attention away from his chassis and instead toward the bustling scenery around them.

── .✦

It had only been a short while since sire and sparkling were catching up and enjoying each other's company when the base's alarm blared through the corridors, alerting everyone of a new mission ahead, much to Optimus's dismay. He found it difficult to look down at his sparkling, knowing what he had to say next.

"Duty calls,sweetspark” Voice tinged with regret, he gently set them down on the floor.

“But you’ve promised you’d stay longer!”

Optimus paused at their protest, his optics flickering with guilt. He knelt, placing his large servo on their shoulder as the sparkling did not dare to separate themselves from their sire’s leg.

"I know, I know, I promised.” Each word hung heavy with regret. “But sometimes, things don't go as we planned. Something has come up, and I have to leave again." Optimus looked at them, his spitting image. He knew how much you hated being apart and how frightened and antsy you became when he was away. "I know you're scared, my little one. But I trust you to be brave while I'm gone. Can you do that for me?"

As his sparkling nod, his optics flickered with pride and gratitude as he leaned closer.

"That's my brave one."

He gave them one last reassuring pat on the helm before turning around and transforming into his truck mode, the engine roaring to life as he prepared to embark on the ship.

── .✦

As the last few preparations were underway, Optimus and the other Autobots were busy securing the final cargo in the Ark’s storage hold, ensuring everything was in order: countless barrels of energon, essential for their long journey ahead. Little did they know though that one of those barrels held more than just fuel…

Just a little longer, they thought, giggling to themselves as the ship’s engines roared to life. In the tight space, their small frame curled up against the walls of the energon-filled barrel, ready to wait for just the right moment to make their presence known.

Their optics flickered with excitement as they peered through a tiny crack in the lid. Tiny servos gripped the edges, the promise of adventure ahead sending shots of adrenaline into their circuit. For too long, they had to watch him leave. Every mission ended in farewells, and every farewell seemed to stretch longer and longer. But this time, they had enough. They wanted to be by his side, to prove themself to him and the Autobots.

Unfortunately, S/N  miscalculated something… still blissfully munching on the energon cube, they hadn’t realized how loud the sound was as they eagerly devoured it. Who could blame them? After hours inside the barrel, the hunger had taken over.

Optimus, who was nearby on patrol, went on high alert at the unexpected noise. His optics narrowed slightly, his posture shifting as he tried to assess the situation. He hadn't expected to hear anything like this. whatever it was... Carefully, he wrapped his fingers around the edges of the barrel and gave it a slight nudge. With a smooth motion, the cap came off.

Inside the barrel, the small sparkling froze mid-chew, their optics wide with surprise. For a moment, they were caught—still holding the energon cube, their mouth full, and unable to hide.

“Ops...” The small sparkling burped again

Primus, he was confused,

“How in Primus did you get in there-“

The sparkling, still holding the energon cube, looked up sheepishly, the sweet treat still clutched in their servos.

"Little one, you cannot be here," he said softly, though his voice carried a tone of both affection and responsibility. "It's too dangerous. I know you miss me, but there are risks you don't understand."

They swallowed the energon cube, their optics bright and filled with determination, they had been so sure that this time, they could prove themselves.  “I just want to be with you, sire,” they murmured, fidgeting with her digits.

His usual calm demeanor was replaced by a tenderness only a sire could show. Gently, he curled his digit around their tiny servo, cradling it with the utmost care..

"I understand, my little one," he said, his voice filled with a fatherly reassurance, not anger. "You feel lonely when I am away, don't you?"

They didn’t speak, but the weight of their emotions was clear. Instead, they leaned closer to his digit, finding comfort in the subtle touch.

Optimus' optical ridges furrowed, he gently pulled them closer, allowing them to carefully lean against his digit.

"I know, sweetspark, I know it's hard for you when I have to go away," his voice gentle and sincere. "But I need you to understand why sometimes I must go.  I want to keep you safe, my little one. I go on missions to protect everyone, including you."

However, his sparkling only frowned deeper and stubbornly turned their head away, unwilling to meet his gaze.

Optimus couldn’t be angry at them, He understood the conflicting emotions they held within their spark. With one digit he gently poked their helm.

"You want to be with me, right?" he guessed gently, his voice warm and soothing.

They only gave him a side-optic glance still unwilling to speak. Optimus' optics softened, his paternal instincts kicking in. He gently lifted them up, cradling them in his large arms.

" my little one, you’re understood," he said softly, his voice filled with compassion. "It's natural to want to be with the ones we care about. I want you with me too, you know?" To stay by my side-“

“But  you’re never home!” The youngling blurted. Optimus' optics flickered, and a hint of sorrow tugged at his spark.

He knew that it was dangerous for them to be with him on missions, but the weight of their longing and fear tugged at his paternal instincts. "S/N, you know I can't always keep you with me. It's not safe for you on missions. I do hold you dear, here, always--” He placed his servo near his matrix  “Autobots face many dangers, and I can't put you at risk”

Though he appreciated her youthful determination, he couldn't help but be a responsible guardian to her.

"I have no doubt that you could kick the bad guys, after all, you have time to learn and grow."

By then the small sparkling who was nestling in his servos was falling into recharge.

“…But I hope” He murmured, almost to himself” you’ll never have to face all of this once you’re older”

Ratchet’s voice broke the moment, his expression etched with concern as he eyed the slumbering sparkling.  “Optimus” the medic called “What are we going to do with them, then? It’s too late to turn back the ship now, we’re too far away”

Glancing down at his youngling, the weight of the situation pressed down on him.

“We” He started, before quickly correcting himself “...I’ll keep them protected here until we return home, until then, they’ll remain safe with me…”

A solemn promise came from the deepest parts of his spark,  and that was enough as a long journey was ahead of them. No harm would come to them, not while he stood as their protector.

── .✦

[yandere--stuck]

Safety Hazard - Yandere!TFP!Ratchet x Human!Reader

You can't move. Can't speak. Can't even turn your head as you stare straight above you. You're too tired, but can't seem to fall asleep, either. A permanent state of disorientation and exhaustion as you try to make sense of the blue lights shining above you.

You flinch when something cold and metal makes contact with your face, body breaking into shivers as goosebumps pimple up over your skin.

"You are so cute, human…" Ratchet sighs, voice near a purr rumbling throughout his body, even to the singular digit that softly traced your face.

He knows he should use your name, but something about addressing you as 'human' makes something in his spark fizzle and burn. His little human. Almost like a toy, with how you lay so still and pliant on his medical berth.

All his.

The human body is so interesting. What Ratchet finds most fascinating is how susceptible your species is to chemical mixtures. Muscle relaxants and sleeping medicines slipped into a drink or meal before the team is supposed to head out for the day…

Now, he finally has one-on-one time with you. He didn't have the courage to confess to you, yet. And he's even more embarrassed to confess to his friends that he had feelings for you. For a human.

So, really, this is just practice! Practice for when it was finally the right time to confess to you. And when if you rejected him, he would have these memories to sustain him. Or, at least, he hoped they would. He'd done this plenty of times now, after all. Another great weakness of the human mind was that it lacked reliability when it came to accuracy and storage of memory, unlike a Cybertronian's.

A dark pulse of shame at the thought echoes throughout Ratchet's frame. In fact, maybe… Maybe this should be the last time.

"I love you so much," Ratchet confesses softly, as if that makes up for it. Gently, he moves his digit to settle against one of your pliant hands. Reflexively, your fingers flex. A shudder quakes you. The closest thing he can get to holding hands with you.

Part of him holds back because he knows there's so little he can do with you. But, an old bot like him can dream, can't he? Can dream of being young again. Before the war. When he was young, full of life and full of love.

And as much as he knows it will probably never work and that he should stop, he can't help himself. Ratchet wants more of you.

He vents shakily, looking over you as you rest on the berth. Slowly, he lifts himself onto the berth, crawling onto his stabilizers. He towers over you. And it both terrifies and electrifies him. Just being like this, close to you, you in his care, it's the most alive he's felt in years.

He's careful, though. Always, always careful. Careful never to hurt you. Careful to give the correct doses. Careful not to let you on to how he feels. Always so careful. So, so careful, it's exhausting.

Just once. He just wants to take one risk, and it'll be enough to last him an eternity. Ratchet puts all his weight on one servo as he used his other to slowly, carefully, cup your head. Just one, and it'll be enough.

"My human, if you love me back," Ratchet leans forward, daring to close his eyes. "Kiss me."

He lifted you up, nearly locking up as he felt the warmth of your lips on his dermas. You're perfect. So, so perfect. And so warm. So human.

Slowly, his servo roamed down your back, lifting you up closer to him, burying his face against your body as he peppered your face with kisses, sighing happily as he fully descended into the fantasy of you wanting him back, of loving him in return, of you being in control of his actions and not just forgetting this whole thing the moment you reawaken.

He hums as the shivers slowly melt away and you're once again pliant from the warmth of his heating helm and servos. He nearly becomes lost in pressing up against you. Trying to get closer. Closer. As close as a human and Cybetronian can get and maybe closer. Like he wants to hide you inside, keep you close to his spark.

Ratchet remembers himself, shaking the sparkstruck feeling off as he lays you back down against the berth, the mech being extra careful as he clambers down. Thank goodness no one was there to see that, how wreckless of him! No one should climb on a medical berth like that. You both could have gotten hurt…

As he watches you drift off to recharge- 'sleep', Ratchet finds himself lost in fantasies of doing this with you again very soon.

[crying-fantasies]

The line

Masterlist

You have heard the stories, almost like the ones in horror movies or sci-fi.

What has your life been but a very high-inducing sci-fi blended with cosmic horror, thriller, and comedy, a full set for adult content while at it? Maybe.

There is metal being broken, bent, destroyed, sparks going off around, your arm, something is worn with it, and you can't feel left your arm, it’s better to not hear, better to move on, finding the red, orange and yellow, dripped with blue in bursts.

“You’re a soldier”, you once told him, Hot Rod stopped using you like a stress reliever squeaking toy in his hand, and looked at you, “Why to use this paint on you?”

He laughed, when he still could, when energon wasn't falling from his lacking mandible, “I was forged like this, squishy”, his digits, now lacking after the blow, would try to ease the creases between your eyebrows, “We speedsters are colorful, seeker coding or whatever”.

“Don't you stand up a lot?” your hands hold his digit, looking directly at the yellow paint, some is lacking due to the heat created by his guns, “they shot you a lot”, Hot Rod laughed, mumbling something about catching everyone’s optics because of his talent; his paint, you catch some energon dried up under it, it wasn't as bad as now, blue drying up over him, pieces falling, your eyes don't leave, don't wander away from the fainting light of his spark, Hot Rod looks at the carcass of the Matrix over what is left of his chassis, over his spark, no energy left, no energon, he has heard the stories too, and his optics show deep, cutting fear when he knows what you are thinking and his answer is a loud, big, scared “No” blurring his vox, you move forward and his pedes try to drag him away, pushing dirt in his lame, fruitless attempt to get as far away from you and that sickening determination on your watery eyes, he pleads again, “no!”, but you are already on the way to him, spilling red, living fluid in your way.

“So what?”, in that moment, with war away, a passing moment when he can feel you trying to climb over him, little feet doing a tap-tap sound over his armor, he indulges in your efforts to come near, slowing a bit once near the autobot badge on his chassis, “I'm always back on my stabilizer servos, so no problem”, your fingers go over the drawing, Hot Rod catches on the humming of something right down there.

Your voice was calm, “I know”, you assured, pressing your palm flat against the surface, Hot Rod tried to not think about the gesture you were making, silly organic, touching in such an intimate place, but you knew no better, still, his derma is pulled thin if only a little, because it feels nice, to be pampered a bit, his optics big and spark spinning against his better judgment when you drop the bomb on him, “but I don't want you getting hurt”.

Why don't you wreck his spark out while you're at it, huh? Hot Rod needed a moment to clear his processor, are humans so touchy and open with affection?, “so weird”, he took you on his servos, joking with you, “Take me out for some energon first, buddy”, you don't get it and it's fine, he pets your head to get some sleep, because humans need to sleep 8 hours like the archaic device said so, humans shouldn't lack sleep or they get slow, and you were already so slow as it is.

Humans shouldn't bleed so much.

“Stay away!”, he pleaded as you finally reached his chassis like that day, “no!” he repeated, he can't just swat you away if he doesn't want you dead, you are so weak, where is everybody? Why isn't anyone here to help you? He can be fixed fast but you can't, you have no spark.

If you die here, that's it, he won't see you ever again.

Your hand holds the Matrix, and to Hot Rod’s horror, the thing powers up, he sees your fingers getting inside, and he yells at you to stop, his voice mad and grieving when your hand disappears too, he tries to find help, noticing he is all alone in between what's left in the battlefield as you go head first into it, he pleads you to stop, he isn't worth it, he doesn't want you to do this for him, and when he tries to get a hold of you in any way even as he lacks digits and full servos there is nothing but failed attempts to save you, all your cells, all that you are feeding the relic, showering the metal in energon, enough to make him heal, make him change, and it is as painful physically as it is emotionally when his frame decays in the surface to bring out another, one he isn't familiar with, his screams are finally heard, but there are only laments, as he hears them say that you did good, repeating endlessly that it wasn't his fault.

It's not enough, it never is.

His frame shudders and his vox is broken by his cries for help, he calls out your name, trying to open the Matrix to get you back, but there is no such thing as returning from the great beyond, and energon spills over his fixed servos.

His systems reboot, and Rodimus Prime awakens once again, alone on his berth, venting and even choking on the memories of it all, servo soon covering his chest piece, where the Matrix is holding him back together, and where he can faintly feel the pull over his spark, that humming, in and out. It's dreadful and beautiful, a compass that mimics a tune, a song without words, his servos cover his chassis and, for a moment, he can feel your body over it, sleeping soundly, protected, if only for a fleeting beat, he can lay down again, pretending you are there, telling him: “don't you dare get hurt, Hot Rod”.

Humans are tiny, they are reckless, they bound way too fast and strong.

Humans' lives are so short, and yet you went and made it even worse, “Hey”, he calls on the night of this planet, thinking that somehow he’ll get something back, “Why did you live so fast?”

There is a faint hum on his spark, almost like an answer, “Because you were worth it”

[rvlse]

HI HI HIII!

Sooo Ive seen your first post and heard you're a new writer. So far Ive read the ES Bumblebee and its so cute!

Anywhooo, could you do Perceptor x reader? (Can be Cyberverse or MTMTE) Nsfw >:3

First of all, I am SO SORRY this took so long! I'm not going to lie, I barely know anything about Perceptor, so I had to do some research before writing this 😭

Hopefully I wrote this the way you wanted me to omg

Anyways...

(CV PERCEPTOR X READER)

WORD COUNT: 1924

WARNINGS: NSFW of course and kind of non-con? But not really?

You sat in the Ark’s lounge, stabilizers crossed, sipping something that probably wasn’t good for your pipes. This week had been a complete rollercoaster. Perceptor had been avoiding you like he didn’t know you - as if he couldn’t care less about you. 

It was funny, really, because these sort of things always happen to you. 

You were a former Decepticon. You’d only joined the Autobots about a month ago, but you felt like you had a pretty good reputation so far. Of course, being new meant there would be bots who would hate you no matter what you did, but you could handle that. 

Perceptor had actually been one of the first to break the ice with you. 

Naturally, if Perceptor thought something was safe, then so did everybody else. Within two weeks, almost every bot on the Ark was comfortable with you, enough to even call you a friend. 

But now, Perceptor just… distanced himself from you. It was annoying, really. Every time he saw you enter a room, he’d excuse himself and coop up in his laboratory. It confused you. The two of you had been so close.

Slamming your glass of mystery juice on the table in front of you, you decided you’ve had enough. Enough of Perceptor’s slag.

You stormed out of the lounge, anger flaring up your systems. How could he just abandon you like that? It wasn’t fair. You were going to teach him a lesson. One him and his body would remember.

The route to his lab was short and sweet. Turn right, left, go straight, destination on your right. You raised your servos to push open the heavy double doors… and then hesitated.

What would you even say when you saw him? Hey, I miss you, let’s frag? You shook your head and took a deep breath. Keep it simple.

You shoved the metal doors open, revealing Perceptor’s humongous laboratory, which was (to no one’s surprise) pristine and organized, no mishap in sight. 

And, of course, there was Perceptor, faceplates buried in a data pad.

At the sound of his doors being opened, though, he looked up. Upon realizing it was you that came inside his lab, he furrowed his brows and swallowed. Odd.

“Y/N? Is there something you need?” he questioned you, setting down his tablet.

You frowned at him, taking several steps closer to the scientist. 

“Yeah. You,” you spat out, blunt as ever. You’d been working on putting your Decepticon roots behind you, but they were really starting to show right now.

Perceptor’s optics practically exploded, and his jaw dropped in shock.

“Excuse me?” He spluttered, his monotone voice actually showing emotion for once. 

“You fragging heard me,” you growled as you stood threateningly in front of the mech. Two of your digits found themselves on Perceptor’s chassis, and you glared daggers at his face while those two digits walked slowly down his body.

Perceptor wasn’t much of a fighter. Everyone knew that. There wasn’t much he could do against you, and everyone knew that, too. 

So, he backed up, one pede after the other, servos up in the air. That didn’t stop you, though. You walked with him, forcing him against his lab’s wall, all the while your digits sliding down his frame.

“What are you so afraid of, Percy?” you mumbled, your tone low. 

“Scared I’m gonna hurt you?” you sneered.

Perceptor’s optics flashed down to the servo - your servo dragging down his front. He was panicking. Your digits were so, so close to where he wanted them to be. 

Truth was, he wanted you. Nobody knew. He didn’t and hadn’t planned on telling anyone, either. His work was too important. 

At a loss for words, he pushed himself against the wall as much as he could, and shook his helm no in response to your question. He’d never been in this situation before. What was he supposed to do?

You just scowled at him as your digits finally reached their destination. You groped his interface plate, making the mech jerk up in pleasure.

“Wha- what are you doing?” he managed to get out through gritted denta.

“I seriously wanna give you head right now,” you muttered, optic ridges furrowed as you continued to glare up at him.

At your statement, Perceptor could've sworn he’d blown a gasket. You wanted to give him what? Slag, it wasn't as if he was against it. 

But before he could even open his intake, you were already on your knees, servos pressed to his thighs.

“I don't think what you're doing is necessary-” 

Click.

His interface panel sprung open, his faceplates practically bleeding blue as his already pressurized spike emerged from its casing. He couldn't hide his arousal now.

“Y-Y/N- Please reconsider-” he didn't get to finish his sentence, his words replaced by a strained, held back moan as your lips touched his member.

You didn't give him any room to breathe, immediately going for the kill as you shoved his spike down your throat.

At the invigorating sensation, Perceptor’s servos couldn't help themselves but to reach for your helm as he let out another stifled whimper. You wasted no time, sucking and squeezing your mouth on him. 

“Y/N-” he groaned as you continued, his servos clenched on the top of your helm.

“Why are you doing- ah- this?” he tried to speak, finding that the sensations he was receiving were too strong.

You didn’t reply, mainly because you had a spike lodged in your throat, but also because it was embarrassing to admit you had a major crush on a bot while giving said bot questionably good head. It was kind of obvious, and giving how smart Perceptor was, he already knew.

Suddenly, you felt the mech jerk in your intake, and you knew he was close. You hadn't expected him to last long.

“P-please..” you heard him mumble.

Unintentionally, he started humping your face, pleasure building up in his tank. He gave one more final jerk, and then you felt his liquids fill your intake as he cried out in ecstasy.

You swallowed without hesitation, the salty yet sweet juices leaving an aftertaste on your tongue.

You removed yourself from his spike and sat back, licking your lips as you watched his face. He was panting, a complete mess.

“Y/N…” he started, looking down at you in awe.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” you spat out, your glare returning.

Perceptor’s jaw opened and closed. He was still so dizzy with pleasure he couldn't exactly grasp reality. And then it clicked in his processor. He hadn't meant to make you feel like you were being avoided. 

“I…” he took a deep breath. Admitting this could go one of two ways.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I shouldn't have avoided you,” he apologized.

“The reason being… I am compelled by you, Y/N. I always have been, from the moment we met. However, my emotions often got in the way of my experiments and studies, therefore I felt there was no other choice but to… distance myself from you.” He concluded, a deep blue blush on his faceplates. He knew you reciprocated his feelings, but voicing his own out loud felt rather embarrassing.

Your optics widened and your optic ridges furrowed. Was he fragging serious? He was scared of his feelings? You sighed and rose to your pedes.

“Okay. Make it up to me.” You replied.

Perceptor blinked at you.

“I’m sorry…?” he gawked.

You remained deadpan, servos on your hips.

“Make it up to me, Perceptor. Show me how much I compel you,” you demanded, still glaring at him.

He was at a complete loss for words. No doubt he knew exactly how to please you; most of his studies were literally about cybertronian anatomy. He'd done some research. He just didn't know where to start. 

Sensing his hesitation, you decided to help him out. 

Grabbing his servo, you gently moved it so he was holding your waist. 

He watched you with curious optics, clearly nervous.

“A-are you sure-”

“One hundred percent.” you cut him off.

Swallowing, he obliged to your will, and brought his other servo to your waist as well. Taking a deep breath, he slowly backed you up, letting your backstrut press against his work table. Within seconds, you were lifted atop of it, and without further hesitation, Perceptor took a calculated risk and pressed his lips against yours. You immediately kissed him back, although he didn't really know what to do with his mouth.

His servos roamed your frame, traveling from your shoulders to your aft. You let a whine out into his intake, letting him know he was doing a decent job.

Motivated by your sounds, he broke from the kiss to focus on getting your interface panel open. You let out another moan as you felt his digits toy with your lower half, your panel sliding open at his teasing prompts.

After taking a long look at your drenched valve, Perceptor took two digits, tested the waters, and then slid them inside you.

You let out another groan, throwing your helm back as he explored your depths.

He stretched you out, curling and unfurling his fingers, spreading and pushing against your walls. Unbeknownst to you, he knew exactly which points to hit. Exactly how to make you arch and desperately grip the table for stability.

You already felt a knot of pleasure building up in your tanks. You normally lasted a slag ton longer than this, so to say he was amazing was an insulting understatement.

And then, just before you could start to see stars, Perceptor pulled his digits out.

All pleasure fading away, you whined when you felt him pull back.

“What’re you-” you started, only to be cut off by the scientist.

“I don't want to overwhelm you by having you cum twice,” he stated simply.

In confusion, you opened your intake to protest, but before you could, his spike was pressed up against your valve. Frag.

You immediately shut your mouth, swallowed, and sat back. Sure, he was big in your mouth, but you hadn't thought about how he would feel inside you. 

Perceptor watched your expression, waiting for permission to enter you, and you nodded in response. You hadn't wanted something more than you did right now in your entire onlining. 

The mech lifted his servos to your waist to gently position you where he wanted you, and then he slowly pushed in.

My Primus, that felt good.

He fit you perfectly. 

Perceptor mumbled something, a mix of moans and words, but you were too high on ecstasy to understand him. The scientist thrusted in and out of you, each time hitting that one spot over and over again. In no time, your optics were in the back of your helm and you could've sworn Perceptor had never done this before. 

You were so close to screaming his name so loud every bot on the Ark would know exactly what was going on. That fantasy was cut short, though, as the mech captured your lips in another clumsy kiss.

“Perceptor-” you mumbled against his lips.

“I- I love you,” you confessed absentmindedly. You couldn't even think straight right now.

And, just like a truck, your high hit you. Your walls clenched on his length, and apparently that was all Perceptor needed to follow your lead.

The both of you panted, absolutely exhausted, but the scientist still had one more thing to say.

“I love you, too, Y/N.”

If you made it here I appreciate you for reading this. Stay strong and you can achieve anything you put your mind to, I'm proud of you <3

[uselessmicrowave]

kinktober day fifteen

tfa optimus prime x reader,

tws/content- kissing, no penetraition, handjobs, sleepy sex, somnophilia (?)

Optimus can’t feel anything but your touch and the throbbing beneath his panels. You’re holding him. But not ‘holding’ where just your arms are wrapped around his neck cables, no. ‘Holding’ him to the point where his stabilizers are barely touching the berth because you’re holding him.

Your vents push warm air onto the top of his helm, your servos are warm against his chassis. Your arms are lovingly draped around his frame. Your thighs are around his waist. One just below his panels, one behind both of his knee struts. Optimus hasn’t tried harder in his life than now to keep his loud aft cooling fans quiet.

If he wakes you up from your stasis, he’ll be mad at himself. Especially because you look so… at peace, with a barely noticeable smile on your faceplates. And the prime is happy to be there with you, it’s just that his plating feels like it’s warmer than a sun. He’s worried that you’re going to be waken up from him being too warm.

In the depths of your stasis, you can feel his spark beat and temperature rise. It makes you stir, moving your arms tighter around Optimus. His optics grow wide.

“Y/n?” his voice is quiet, to not wake you if you aren’t already. You move in your sleep again, pressing your faceplates into the side of his helm. You’re so close to kissing him, if he could just… turn his helm to face yours- “Mmph?” you moved closer again, his optics widen. Your dermas are kind of almost half on his, in a sort of kiss. You don’t seem to notice, still pushing warm air onto him. He mentally sighs, not wanting to surprise you with a warm puff of air. He'd want to back away from you but... He just can't find the strength to. Optimus smiles, trying to find your servo behind his back to hold it. You blearily open your optics, taking the servo he was searching for and rubbing your optics.

“Hmp- oh. What time is it, baby?” you say quietly, letting him go and turning on your side to stretch.

“It’s too late.” Optimus yawns, "Or early, depending on how you look at it."

“You’re warm.” you huff tiredly, running a servo across his back strut. “Wanted to do anything?”

“Huh?”

“Want me to help you out?” You run a servo down his frame from his chassis to his hips. He blushes, going quiet and feeling his array throb with want once again.

"Yeah..." he admits bashfully, turning away and hiding his faceplates from you. You coo, tugging him closer like a pillow.

"You're so warm... Did you really get this worked up by yourself?" you tease, pushing him to lay on his back strut and running your servos down his frame, tracing around his interface panels.

"Mmhm." you chuckle quietly at his response, smiling when he lets both of his panels open. You gently take his spike, rubbing the tip of your digit up the underside of his spike, making him whimper. You tease at the slit of his spike, making him gasp and bite his lip, tilting his faceplates into your neck cables.

"So warm..."

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[moonlight-tmd]

Thinking about little Bee being found by Optimus out on the streets. [Part 1]

OP had just lost his friend Elita- the grief had overtook his mind and he was put on a leave until things have cleared up, the two had... a special kind of friendship. He was going back to his quarters in Iacon Minor when he heard yelling in some alley.

"You little pest! I'll show you what happens when you steal-!" He saw a neutral bot holding up a tiny yellow Sparkling by the scruff, servo-held blaster aimed for its helm.

His instincts kicked in and he rushed at the bot and strangled him. The bot dropped the Sparkling and the blaster, once Optimus managed to knock him out he wanted to make sure the Sparkling was okay but there was no one but him there. It must have run off, he tried looking for it but no success. He decided to go back to his quarters.

He kept thinking about that situation- what was a Sparkling doing there? Sparklings should not wander out on streets, they should be with their parents or a caretaker. This one was all alone... His processor would not leave him alone about it, he found himself periodicaly visiting the area he saw the Sparkling in, looking into other alleys in hopes to find it.

Few times he thought he saw a brief flash of yellow scurrying away into some crack near the various restaurants or dumpsters but he could never catch it. One time his search was interrupted by a group of rough-looking bots- apparently the bot he beat up earlier was a part of some gang and they decided to take their payback. They left him dented in the trash with missing parts. Blurry vision slowly returned back to normal and he sat up- there it was, the tiny yellow Sparkling stood right in front of him, expression unclear, it only looked at him with these big blue optics. He could see it had two little horns, its frame was littered with scratches and half-healed dents...

"You need help." Its tiny quiet voice snapped him out of his thoughts. The tiny Sparkling was holding some small container, it walked closer to him and pulled out few torn up fabric pieces. It grabbed his digit and Optimus let it pull his servo closer to it. "You helped me, so now I'll help you." It said as it wrapped the pieces around his servo and stabilizer in a makeshift bandaid. There wasn't much of them in the first place so that's all that got treated.

"You need to avoid these guys. They'll hurt everyone they don't like." The Sparkling said, Optimus tried to ask few questions; What's your name? Where are your parents? The Sparkling stood quiet for a bit before flinching and quickly looking in some direction- alarmed Optimus looked in the same direction- there was nothing there... When he looked back the Sparkling was gone.

The next times he's been looking in the area were more succesful- he actually managed to spot the tiny Sparkling trying to climb into some backside dumpster of some food place. It got startled when he called out to it, tried to run again but stopped when Optimus started speaking. It again didn't answer any of his questions, he guessed it was hungry and told it to wait and that he'll be right back. He went into the shop and bought some freshly baked goods before going back behind the building. The Sparkling wasn't there, but it didn't take long before it came out of the hiding when he called. He offered it the food and after a little bit of hesitation the bitlet latched onto it and took it out of his servo and stuffed his little intake with it. It must have been very hungry...

They sat on some crates as the little one finished another rust bun. The Sparkling actually talked to him this time- his name was Bumblebee (his age could be equal to human 5 year old, he was so small he didn't even reach OP's knee joint). They talked for a bit- Bee told him he knew he was trying to find him. Later Bumblebee said he had to go, Optimus tried to offer helping him get back but Bee had already run off to some other alley.

Surprisingly, the next cycle(day) he was in the same place, near the dumpster. It would seem he was waiting for Optimus to get here. This repeated for few cycles, one time Bee asked Optimus to follow him. It was surprising how well the little Sparkling navigated thru the back alleys and tight corridors between buildings, like he knew the area from memory. After some time they reached some closed off alley with a shelter build from scraps, crates and some tarp. "This is my home." Bee has said when Optimus asked what that was.

Bee refused to leave so from then on Optimus visited Bee's little shack almost every cycle. He brought him fresh food and fuel every time, even energon. The times he couldn't go because of work he made sure to bring more food to make up for his absence. Sometimes they talked- Bee was very crafty and knew a lot about survival for his age. Optimus didn't know if it was more impressive or concerning. One time he tried to pet his helm, but the Sparkling just flinched away and looked at him warily.

Then a decacycle(week) later, the post-effects of the Archa-7 incident happened- he was demoted to low ranking Prime- he has been assigned to datawork until further notice. He came back home sad and grabbed a can of high grade mix to drown the sorrows in. Before he could open it tho he noticed droplets on the window- it wasn't water, Cybertron didn't have normal rain. What it did have were acidic downpours that made unprotected metal rust. The image of Bee's poor and unstable shelter flashed in his mind. Without a nanoklik to spare be grabbed a protective hover-shield (their sort of umbrella) and rushed down the roads to the area Bee lived in. Upon arrival he saw the shelter- it was caved in, the already rusted scrap in it getting more holes the more acid fell down. He called, nothing. He was about to move onto another spot when he noticed a piece of tarp hanging out of some low-placed airvent. Most of the screws were gone so it was easy to open it. Inside sat little Bumblebee, wrapped up in the tarp that used to be on the shelter, he appeared to be recharging.

He couldn't stay here, Optimus gently took him out of the vent- Bee was so cold to the touch- he placed him on his seat and drove back to his quarters.

Bumblebee woke up in something soft, it took him a bit to become alarmed cuz his vent wasn't soft at all. He was in some big room, on a big berth, wrapped up not in tarp but a warm blanket. Then someone entered the room, it was Optimus. "Hey Bumblebee." His voice was quiet as if to not startle the Sparkling further. The soft smile accompanied by the gentle gaze of his optics. "Did you recharge well?"

Optimus explained Bee was in his private quarters and that Bee can stay as long as he wants. He brought him some homemade fuel-stew that Bee ate right up. Later he took Bee for a bath cuz he was very much dirty. He was careful with the areas that still had healing wounds, he treated those later.

Optimus let Bee recharge in his berth while he crashed at the couch in the guest room. The next cycle Optimus woke up and checked on Bee the berth was empty. Going into full panic mode he looked everywhere in every room before finally crashing into the kitchen and seeing Bee stitting on the counter monching on some rust sticks. Turns out Bee usually started his cycle way earlier than Optimus- as in 2 joors(hours) earlier than Optimus.

They ate the morning meal and Optimus had to leave for work, much to his displease. He made sure Bee could access anything he needed and told him when he'll be back and to not touch certain stuff that might cause him harm. Even tho he knew Bee could take care of himself he couldn't help but be anxious the whole time.

They were getting along just fine, Optimus sure was happy when Bee didn't flinch and let him pet his helm. He even bought him some toys, Bee didn't seem to be interested in them much, except for one- the little stuffed blue-silver seeker toy with yellow eyes. Bee always seemed to carry it around, he always had it when Optimus put him to recharge.

Then one time when Optimus was going back from some other part of Iacon he noticed something, a familiar faceplate right on one of the holo-leaflets on the info-board. "Missing Sparkling. If found, please contact..." there was a contact number and address of Iacon's Carequarters. He looked at the notice stunned... Bumblebee was from an orphanage? The little Sparkling never told him why he was living on the streets nor where he was from or if he had any relatives. He didn't know what to feel... he took the leaflet with him and hid it to look at later.

The next day when Optimus left for work Bee thought it would be good to look around the quarters some more. He was there for few cycles now. He knew the layout of some of the rooms but there were still some places he had yet to look around. He looked thru the washroom, the room that was used as a storage and the one he saw Optimus walk into a few times. It was a workplace filled with files and some other stuff for grown-up work. He looked around and was about to leave but then he noticed something different hanging from the edge of the desk. He manged to push some box near and grab it-...

Optimus came back home a bit later than usual, he went to the new cafeteria that opened up and bought some sweets to share with Bee. "Bumblebee! I'm back!" He called out, but there was no response. He looked around the quarters still calling out, he hoped the Sparkling was playing hide and seek again but he didn't find him. He looked thru every cabinet and storage unit but nothing. Bumblebee was just gone. The panic only rose when during his search he noticed fuel and med supplies missing from certain cabinets.

He drove down to Bee's camping spot but found nothing more than the still-broken shelter from the downpour. He kept looking, panic and worry fueled his thoughts to find Bee. The solar cycle was ending, lunar planets slowy making an appearence as the lunar cycle was closer. His attenention got caught on some chatter outside some low-end night club. "Aww, lil' pretty thing- C'mon, we can have some fun.~" "No- let me go!"

Optimus saw some small-class grounder holding little Bee's arm while he tried to break free. "LET GO OF HIM!!" The next thing the drunk creep-bot felt was a hard punch to the face before he ran for his life. In the meantime Bee ran too, he tried to lose Optimus in the alleys but the big bot caught up to him quickly- "Leave me alone!!" He tried to break free from Optimus' grasp the same way he tried to get away from that creepy old bot.

"Bumblebee- please-" "NO!" Bee broke free and continued yelling. "You want to put me in that evil place again!" Tears streaming down his everlasting unclear expression, but now it was scrunched up in hurt.

" 'Evil place'-?" "The Carequarters!... Don't lie, I saw the leaflet! You wanna send me back to that place!" Optimus was frozen, was this why Bee ran away?

Bee was about to run off again when Optimus spoke up. "No, Bee wait-! I wasn't gonna put you in the Carequarters! This is a misunderstanding!"

"..What?" Bee sniffled, Optimus' expression softened from distressed to worried. "Bumblebee... I know you have reasons not to trust people, and I know you don't trust me fully. But I promise you, I will never do anything to hurt you. If you don't wanna go back there then I won't force you to. I'll do anything to protect you." Optimus slowly opened his arms to Bee, hesitantly the little Sparkling carefully stepped closer to him and let Optimus gently pull him into a hug. "I was so worried..." He whispered, relief washing over him as he held the bitlet close.

They got back to Optimus' quarters and Optimus treated the fresh cuts Bee had gotten, both sat in silence. Optimus, both curious and worried decided to start a small talk.

"Bumblebee?" The Sparkling only hummed in return, letting him know he heard it. "If I may ask... why do you not want to go back to Carequarters?"

Bee was silent, his gaze was focused somewhere on the floor. Optimus thought it was another answerless question but then the bitlet spoke up. "...Everyone hates me there."

"Really?" Bee nodded, "Surely there is someone who likes you, isn't there?" Optimus found it hard to belive that everyone in the entire Carequarters would dislike a Sparkling like Bee.

"Nu-uh. No one..." Bee shook his head before continuing. "Other kids bully me all the time. The staff isn't better either... but the boss is the worst. She makes me do all the chores and locks me in storage if I do something she doesn't like."

"Living on the streets is better than this." Optimus couldn't believe this was true... yet, what things some of the professional work sectors he was in allowed.... he could see this and worse happening in spaces that were supposed to be safe for Sparklings.

Optimus finished patching up Bee and gave him some warm fuel. It was late and Bee was tired. Optimus took him to berth and tucked him in. "Could I stay here for a while?" He sleepily asked, recharge clawing at him.

"Yes, Bumblebee. Stay as long as you want." Optimus said quietly while rubbing the Sparkling's back, coaxing him to get the much needed recharge.

Bee hummed... "Then... can I stay forever?" As much as he tried to stay up a little while longer, the tiredness claimed him. Optimus' Spark fluttered at the request. He knew the little Sparkling captured his Spark the moment he saw him in the alley, he couldn't help but whisper "Yes, bitty... This is your new home.".

When he was sure Bee was fast in recharge he went to his work-dedicated room and looked up the Carequarters Bee was kept in. Despite the somewhat good reviews he used every resource and privillage he still had and send mass-reports to the Sparkling Protection Services.

It had worked very well because just 2 cycles from when he send reports, the facility was mass-changing staff. Now there was one thing left to do...

Bee and Optimus were sitting in the guest room on the couch, the news played on the big screen but Optimus wasn't listening. His attention was on the little Sparkling sitting in his lap and playing with the new puzzle toy.

"Hey Bumblebee?" Optimus spoke up, getting the bitlet's attention. "Were you ever adopted?"

That question seemed to catch Bee off-guard, he was quiet for a bit before he shook his helm sadly. "Uh-uh.."

"Would you like to be?" Little Sparkling looked up at Optimus with wide optics, almost as if it was the first time he ever heard that being said to him... probably it was. "I could be your Sire if you want to."

"...You would?" Bee sounded unsure, as if he didn't really believe what was being said to him. Optimus' smile only grew warmer. "I would be honored to."

Bee stared at him for the longest time before tears appeared in his optics, he rubbed them out. "...Yeah. I want that." Bee said and snuggled into Optimus' hug.

Optimus had to call the Carequarters to report the missing Sparkling found and that he wanted to adopt him. Of course, the new manager was very kind and relieved that the lost bitty was safe and sound and found a new family. Bee was sceptical to the idea of going to the Carequarters but Optimus assured him a thousand times over that this will be the last time he'll ever be in that place and that from then on they'll be a happy family. So they drove down to the facility, Bee held onto Optimus as they walked to the office with the new manager. Optimus signed the adoption form and Bee left the little servo print in the right place as his signature since he didn't know how to write yet- a permission for Optimus to adopt him and take him. After getting Bee's documents they left back home. Bee's new, permanent home.

After Optimus put Bee to recharge he called his good friend Ratchet. "Ah yeah, it would be about time you take that stray Sparkling you've been tellin' me about for a check-up." "Not stray anymore... I adopted him." Ratchet could hear Optimus' smile over the audio-call. "Well, congrats then! I have a free window tomorrow so you can bring him in then." Ratchet had a tight schedule so it was hard to get a place for a fixing with Cybertron's most skilled mechanic/physical medic. For his friends however he always found a spot out of the waiting line.

So Optimus was scheduled to bring Bee for an appointment the next cycle, and it would have been fine.... If it wasn't for Sentinel who finally decided to speak to Optimus again since the demotion. He showed up at his door few joors before the appointment for some files and didn't listen when Optimus told him to wait by the door while he gets them. He, as usual, invited himself into the guest room to crash on the couch and chat but instead saw Bumblebee playing with toys. "Why is your chin so big?" Bee's comment broke the awkward stare down between the two.

"I got those files you wanted-" Optimus came into the room after seeing the door he left slightly ajar were full-open. Sentinel shot a look at Optimus. "You need to explain yourself."

Bee was left to play with his toys while the two talked by the door. "You didn't tell me you were... you know." Sentinel whispered accusedly, making Optimus confused for a bit before realizing. "What? No, I wasn't!"

"Then where did he-" "I... found him out on the streets." Optimus explained. "I took him in and now he's my Sparkling."

Sentinel was quiet, it was odd... "He looks like-" "I know. It's... incredible how similar they look."

Optimus managed to get Sentinel out so they could prepare for a visit to Ratchet. Bee was unsure of the medbay but Optimus assured him Ratchet is there to help. Ratchet did some scans and suddenly it became a full-on system check, the results he got back were not pleasing him and Optimus noticed the worried scowl as he looked at the scans. Optimus tried not to be stressed when Ratchet asked him to speak outside the room for a bit and Bee was left fiddling with the fidget toys.

It turned out Bee was defective. There was several wiring mishaps and system programming errors. The malnutrition and mistreatment of wounds from the time he was in Carequarters and streets took a toll on his frame and hindered his development, meaning that he won't grow very big and most likely end up a minibot.

"I understand... and I'll do anything to help him." Optimus was ready to do all he could to make sure Bee will be alright. "I'll give you contact to other professionalists that'll help you, unfortunately I can't do much here."

Bee, of course, was curious enough to jump off the med table and eavesdrop the conversation, he climbed back up just in time for the two to enter the room again. It became apparent that he did that when they came back home and Bee asked "Why am I broken?". Optimus told him it was okay and that sometimes things happen whether we want it or not.

Outside of physical defects, Bumblebee had a glitch that nearly removed his emotions. It would explain why the yellow bitty was so apathetic and always had that unclear expression with big optics, it really only changed when he was tired or hurt. Come to think of it, Optimus never heard him laugh either. They went to the doctor who was able to help with the system glitches, Bee was comforted by Optimus while he was being put under temporary stasis, Optimus was also there when he woke up after the procedure. "Weird..." Bee replied when Optimus asked how he felt. "It's okay. You'll get used to it." The doctor reassured, Bee was given praise for being so brave. The doctor told Optimus that glitches like that are bound to have some minor side effects even after patching but there shouldn't be much issues. If he did notice something happening, he do should come back.

After Optimus adopted Bee, he took a long parenting leave and started cleaning up the room used as storage. Soon, it became Bee's own room so he didn't have to sleep in Optimus' berth with him. Bee had everything a little Sparkling would need growing up, Optimus noticed he liked the fidget toys so he got him a bunch of those. He also got to experience Bee's curiosity for tinkering when he somehow snatched a clock off the wall, took it apart and tried to put it back together...

Few cycles after the procedure Bee was still getting used to feeling new things. His only senses were knowing if something's right or wrong, safe or unsafe. Now there was a whole lot of new things, it felt like he was thrown into liquid without the ability to float. Optimus was there for him every step of the way, he explained what each emotion meant whenever Bee asked. Bee found it weird to laugh, things that would make him slightly uncomfortable in the past now made him burst into giggles. He also found it very annoying that things that he counted as 'unsafe' now got a whole lot extra 'unsafe' points on the scale. The new level of 'unsafe' that made him scream and even cry. One lunar cycle Bee woke up in a panic- the crying woke up Optimus who rushed to checked on Bee and found him terrified in his own berth. Bee couldn't say anything, he only sobbed while Optimus held him close and comforted him. Why did this horrible thing only happened now?

Bee never had nightmares. When he was in Carequarters he would go to recharge much later than the rest of the Sparklings so he always passed out on his berth only to get energy for the next cycle. While living on the streets he couldn't recharge too much because everything was out to get him; wirerats, gangsters, other homeless bots. He was always on guard and made sure the spot he was resting in was safe first. Now that he didn't have to worry about surviving, that he knew what safety and comfort felt like... the terror could truly set in.

It took a while before Optimus got Bee to calm down. Bee refused to recharge on his own, he was far too scared and still learning how to cope with emotions. Optimus took him to his room and let him cuddle up on his chassis. He hummed him a lullaby to soothe him, he glanced down and found his little bitty sleepily looking up at him. "Don't worry Bumblebee, everything is okay now."

Little Bee smiled at him and snuggled close. Before recharge fully claimed him again, Optimus heard him whisper "...thank you, Sire..". Warmth pulsed thru him, that was the first time Bee called him 'Sire'. Optimus could not have been happier. After that, Bee was using the word 'Sire' more often instead of 'Opi' that he sometimes called Optimus.

Along with the documents from the Carequarters, Optimus got Bee's forging date so they could celebrate his Creationday. Bee was very confused when his Sire made so much sweets and got him so much gifts for that one cycle he never heard of- that apparently was all about him! After celebrating and eating the very tasty cake Optimus took him for a ride into the park a little further away from the city. Turns out, it wasn't much of a surprise like Optimus wanted it to be cuz Bee has already been to that park twice- it was a really long walk but he did it. Bee still enjoyed being there, it was so different from the dark smoggy alleys or shiny tall buildings. Optimus was having fun at first, it did change however when Bee asked if he wanted to see something cool and led him to some spot with a hole in the rocks. He disappeared for a bit and pulled out a masked crate filled with contraband from said hole. Apparently, some local thugs were using this spot as a stash and a tiny little Sparkling saw them put the goods in there and busted them just now. Bee never knew why Optimus was not happy with that, they found treasure!

Aaaaand that's it for this one. Sheesh, it's long. Hope you liked the new, remade version of Optimus being Bee's dad as well as the tragic backstory of Bee being put to use. Stay tuned cuz more of that coming soon.

[bnsni]

idk if I should make this au a series but here you go <3 (au explanation in the tags bc I don't want to spoil)

mouse-verse IMPASSIVITY is at an all time high. Prowl struggles to ignore the nudge against his ribs. A locked jaw, optics for slits are the best he's got under pressure. Even, better — bared dentas to deter trouble.

But there's something about Bumblebee — that punk is trying his patience, unfazed by the enforcer's abrasive demeanor. He's pushing it. Pushing it hard. Without even a glance, he's sure as Primus's aft a chesire grin is leeching from that face.

"And, what's the status?" His audials picked up on Optimus's voice, a blur of red and blue not too far in the laboratory from where he stood. Prowl straightens. Ah, professional. Be professional. He can't be seen behaving inappropriately.

Then, he hears your voice and loosens visibly.

"Neutral, sir. For now, at least. It'll come round eventually. But I'll try to stabilize it."

Prowl shifts, almost imperceptibly, on his pedes. The scout is now focused on a bubbling flask. A digit out, prodding the capped casing. Phosphorus, Prowl recognizes. Vanilla crystals blossomed at the bottom and explosively so. But he bites back a chastise — if the yellow bug is broken out of his curious stance, Prowl might not be able to grasp this chance to, well, have a look.

So, he tilts his helm and lets his optics skim, much the same as he does when he's scheming — a search for your figure amidst all the beams and laboratory apparatus of the room is discreet.

It was organized, clean. You fixed your workspace often. Adored organizing your paperwork in neat little bundles. He discerned some stacks under your desk with those pastel straps you always hoard from the nearest stationary shops.

That is the decorum, the attitude of a proper soldier. It is what he'd like to see in everyone's workstation. Clean and logically organized.

Once his optics caught your eyes, he swivels away. His doorwings piked up, much to his chagrin. A side periphery of a smile curling your mouth didn't help the flare of warmth prickling the back of his neck , running all the way up to his forehead. His frown becomes all the more apparent.

And, of course bumblebee notices.

"Can it." He grits out before he could say anything else.

Bumblebee just shrugs but the slag-eating grin is still there. "Didn't say I warned ya, buddy."

"Don't call me buddy." He says coldly. " I am not your buddy. I am your commanding officer and you will refer to me properly as such."

"Eugh, leave it for Ironhide to decide. I'm not here on a debate for ranks."He elbows his rib plates with a wag of his brows. "What I'm here for, though...." He trails off, and shimmies a crab dance to block his view.

Prowl grimaces and retaliates by looking above the horns of his head. "Enough. You're making a fool out of yourself." He bares out.

"Oooh. Someone's quite the looker, huh."

"And, you're about to gain a look of a lifetime, through physical means."

"Prowl suggested I seek your advice."

Both bots stiffen at the sound of pedes approaching. The Prime has his servos folded behind his back, hunching, and tilting his helm so he could regard your face. You trotted beside him, a hand shoved into the pocket of your labcoat and the other swiveling a pen.

"Oh, did he?" You stop before the enforcer.

The fat of your cheeks pulled into a smile.

"I did." Prowl clips. "You specialise in force fields — an expertise greatly suitable for that area of predicament."

Bumblebee adds "A great suitor for the other— hrrk!"

Prowl shoves an elbow against his ribs. The yellow bugs keels over, wheezing. Optimus raises an eyebrow. What he thinks of it is left unsaid as he turns to you.

"This won't be too demanding of me?"

"No, not at all." You wave placatingly. "I'm busy but this isn't' something of a problem I can't handle. I'll have the blueprints by dawn."

The Prime pats your shoulder, optics gentle as he heads for the sliding doors. "Have a good evening, mouse."

"You too, sir."

"And, you t—"

Prowl shoves the yellow bug outside, locking the laboratory pad with a few quick punch of his digits for good measure. When he's sure the two silhouettes are gone, he vents through clenched teeth and tries to conceal his irritation. Though, proven futile with how his doorwings twitch.

He's had enough, for today.

"Bothersome?" You mused.

"A work in paradise."

He swivels around and despite the smooth mask he's locked in, almost jumps at your close proximity.You're standing there, chin tilted up — he's already faltering, surprise shown through a quick flick of his doorwings.

"And, you say I'm not so discreet." You make a show of teetering on your toes.

He rolls his optics but complies nonetheless, lowering his helm but not his shoulders. He won't make it easy. No, not too low or you'll get a pass — he wants you to beg for it.

"Terrible." He chuffs. "Of all the soldiers I've assessed, you mouse, are the worst at discretion. Impulsivity seems to be a close friend, for you."

"But what does that make you, then?" Your lips, soft and pliable, are inches away from his chin.

He resist lowering his helm any further. But much to his dismay, Prowl slants his helm, counteracting his locked coding of not caving in.

"Reckless." He breathes out. "Worse than when Smokescreen toddled away with illicit high-grade."

A loose giggle bubbles from your lips, a sweet sound he shamelessly saved in his processors. Though, iritation paints his features when he recognizes the signs. You're deliberately stalling. Deliberately ignoring his advances. He bares his teeth, exasperated at the fact he has to spell it out.

"Kiss me."

"Oh?" You tilt away, a coy playful grin. "Why would I do that, officer when discretion is at play here?"

"Because we're behind closed doors. Because if you dont, you're disobeying a direct command from your superior. And because —" Agitation pulls at his face and digits pinched your chin, pulling you close."— i've missed you."

It's not often he's affectionate. You're always the one pulling the trigger first — but when he does it, you find it oddly endearing of how desperately he wants it.

"Kiss me." He says again.

And, that was enough for you to close the distance. Hands on his shoulder plates as you lean up to catch his lips. Instantly, he melts into your touch, servos gripping your waist.

[cozzzynook]

Just thinking of pre-war Blitzwing sitting inside his art room.

A large mold of cyber-clay spinning with intricate shapes that he helps guide smaller servos to create.

Beige clawed servos covered in cyber clay as they delicately hold and instruct smooth yellow digits on how to shape and style by soft touch.

The little bee sits between his upper stabilizers in his lap, modesty panel resting open as transfluid sits nestled inside the squirming mecha whose vavle is plugged snug on Blitzwings spike.

“Jou’re doing very good hummel,” he only allows his hummel to hear such velvet on his vox and his hummel only allows him the beautiful song his damaged vox manages to chirp and beep.

“So perfect, mein bee, just perfect,” Blitzwing hums not taking his optics from him.

-

Yes, I was watching Ghost.

-

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