#the sensors do be overloading

[jamiebluewind]

Me getting sensory overload and needing to listen to music in the dark for an hour to make my brain stop screaming: And HOW did I not know I was autistic again!???

[lunatf-ao3]

HEADCANONS ❣︎

❥︎ FETICHES ! ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖʳᵉᶠᵉʳᵉⁿᶜᵉˢ

[TFP] Bumblebee, Bulkhead, Starscream, Ultra Magnus, Dreadwing, Predaking /human!Reader

[⚠︎]: nsfw, various fetishes, it may be strange

I will play other characters, this was a bit long hehe. I will respond to requests as quickly as possible, ty!!!

-

- PREDAKING :

Breeding Kink

Body Odor

Predaking has olfactory sensors unmatched by any species, strong enough to detect human pheromones, and oh boy, the first time he detected yours in his heat cycle, it was like an intense aphrodisiac for him. He can't get hot without smelling your scent, he loves to sniff you all over, especially between your legs and on your neck. They make his spike harden almost immediately and he has involuntary erections for the rest of the days.

Being the only one of his species, his deepest desire is to have offspring, especially after the loss of his siblings to the autobots. Don't even try to ask him to finish outside, he won't do it. As long as he's in heat, he'll use your tight little hole as he sees fit. He makes sure to fill you full of transfluid until you're nice and swollen for him, and if he gets the chance, he'll happily knot you up. Deep down he knows that having offspring with you is totally impossible, but he doesn't care, he'll fuck you like it's possible.

Despite this, he is not a complete brute, he cares for you and treats you like a queen, because you are, you are his queen. He devours you with savage respect. He has everything he needs for you, food, clothes, first aid kit and, to his chagrin, personal grooming stuff. He's not a fan of you bathing, shampoos and soaps make your natural scent disappear for a while, but he doesn't have much choice but to accept it.

Normally his heat lasts only a week, but he makes sure to make the most of it. During that time, you just reek of transfluid and sex. He loves it. His favorite position is when you're underneath him, receiving his spike as if you were made for exactly that. He also loves it when you ride him, making you jump on his spike and see the bulge in your belly.

- DREADWING :

Domestic Kink

Dreadwing is too horny to get things ready, put the pillows on, arrange the sheets, put the lube on the side.... The anticipation is a pleasure that excites more than the sex itself. Well, maybe not as exaggerated, but when it's over, spike is as hard and dripping as it could ever be.

It's a domestic thing, in the realm of the sensual. He makes the bed because that's where he's going to devour you, he sterilizes his body because you'll put your delicate parts there, he prepares the room as if it were an altar of desire. Do you want to do it? NO, it is his duty and only he will do it, he will not allow you, his sweet lover, to be exhausted with something like that.

Besides, it's hard for him to get too excited afterwards. Anticipation has become necessary for sex...

It's not just about order, he will definitely destroy and disorganize everything in the process. He also likes to clean up afterwards, it's a dirty reminder of what happened. His favorite position is the classic missionary, watching your face and the way his spike penetrates you, filling you completely is something she won't miss.

He is sweet but firm, his lunges are accompanied by kisses and his overload never comes before a "Where?". Inside or outside, it's fine with him, inside? That's fine, he loves to fill you with his seed and watch you drain yourself of it. outside? That's fine, it's a treat to see you covered in his cum and clean himself afterwards.

- ULTRA MAGNUS :

Size Difference

Foot Fetish

As stoic as the second in command of the autobots is, he has a special soft spot for how small you are. When you yourself made him realize how easy it was to play with you, to control you, he fell into an endless pit of perversion because, oh my, you are so weak, so vulnerable. He could do with you whatever he wanted with ease. Exploring your little body became an addiction; spreading your legs, lifting you, accommodating you, transporting you, I did it with such ease because you were so.... Tiny. You fit in the palm of his servo and right there he could do anything you wanted to you and you were so happy to receive it.

Every little part was a weight on his processor. Your slender fingers, tracing over the screen of your phone so nimble, so small, so soft, detailed, he could imagine how such a tiny touch would feel on the head of his prick; your cute ass, soft, firm, he wanted to cradle it with his servos; That little nose of yours, tiny, soft, so adorable, how it would feel to squeeze it between his fingers, to see the desperation in your eyes for air, to feel the soft curvature. Every part made him sigh.

Inevitably, it all went to your tiny feet, those cute toes, the rosy quilts, the way you played with them while you were distracted. They were different, they were... Sinful. Almost immediately they became a strange and guilty taste for him. He had to hide too many erections when you decided to rub those little fingers on his panel while he worked sitting down, they were so adorable he wanted to put them all in his mouth.

His favorite position is the classic missionary. He's not a bot particularly inclined to try new things, so he sticks with those two most of the time. He likes to watch his spike struggling to insert itself into your little hole, and the look on your face as he does it, it's dirty. Of course, he also likes it when you rub his spike with your feet, running his entire length to his tip, where the sticky pre-transfluid stains you. Subsequently he may also fill them with transfluid or masturbate with them.

Despite everything, he is a fanatic of cleanliness, he will clean you and your feet with dedication. He investigates everything to give you baths, bathe you himself and leave the room as if the dirtiest things ever happened there. He is dirty on the inside and in the privacy, not on the outside.

- STARSCREAM :

Dominance Kink

Dollification

He turns you into a doll, almost literally. He gets off on the idea of dressing you up, getting you all dolled up, before he destroys you. He chooses and steals the most extravagant lingerie for you, he is an expert in human fashion because of that. Are you going to dress yourself?don't bother trying, he and only he will adorn your little body with the garments. He also makes you up as he can, he paints your lips and cheeks with a soft red, sometimes it's pink, sometimes pastel blues and sometimes he just leaves you as you are.

He loves to have that control over you, he manipulates you at his whim, moving you around, dressing you in this and that, it's.... Just what he needs. It feeds his terrible desire for control and superiority, not that it bothers you much, he doesn't do it all the time, only in sex. Fixing you up can NOT be missed If it doesn't, Starscream doesn't particularly enjoy it.

He loves to dominate you, impose his desires on you and use you as he pleases. It's no secret that the pathetic, greedy and constantly humiliated seeker the last thing he wants is to be inferior in bed. If he can, he will nail you to the bed and order you around like the leader he claims to be deep down inside.

If he is in the mood, he will let you dominate him, but only rarely. He is quite good at being submissive and seems to enjoy it, but don't tell him! It embarrasses him and puts him in a bad mood. He especially likes it when you give him blowjobs before he fucks you, you look gorgeous with your clothes still intact and makeup ready to stir with transfluid. Plus, there he controls your head at his whim, you look so pretty with his spike filling your throat!

His favorite position is against the wall, he crushes you and bangs you there hard. Feeling your legs around his hips, opening you up so nicely to receive his long spike. Makeup runs off your face and clothes end up a mess by the end of the night, reeking of transfluid. It's not something that bothers you, you can steal more after all.

- BULKHEAD :

Food Play

Face sitting

This guy is going to fill you with energon and lick you like his life depends on it. As embarrassing as it is, Bulkhead really likes to coat you in edible things. It was like seasoning a ready-made dessert. He loved the taste of you, but adding energon and oil made it even better.

It makes him embarrassingly horny to see you covered, ready to be devoured by him. The energon thick on your belly, the oil forming a deliciously sinful path to your pelvis, it's going to drive him crazy!!! He'll lick every last bit of your body and then he'll lick you until he leaves you reeking of oral lubricant. In some cases when the two of you get too extravagant, the wrecker is willing to cover you in transfluid and lick it clean off your body.

His favorite position is when you ride him, especially his face! He likes you to dominate him from above, use his intake as you see fit, he will enjoy it. Your taste is like an exquisite delicacy, and seeing your body so close could make him overload right there. Cum in his mouth and he will be the happiest bot for the next few hours. You're like a drug to him.

He is a gentle, overly concerned about getting hurt. He's too careful and the last thing he wants is for you to end up badly because of his clumsiness, even if often all he wants is to lose control. He guides your movements with servos on your hips, making you give him gentle squats and rub you like a little cowgirl on his shank.

- BUMBLEBEE :

Toy Fetish

Bumblebee definitely has a problem with toys. He likes to experiment a lot with his partner, and what better and safer way than with toys? Every day, every night, he has to try something new, oh yes, it's an obsession. He likes everything, dildos, plugs, clamps, harnesses, vibrators, he always gets different things from who knows what place when they are going to do something. He'll put it on you, and of course he's not going to be curious about what it feels like himself, so toys are a shared use.

He's a sweet guy, but he's not above being dirty. He especially likes to try things on you, your expressions with a particularly large plug, or how you squirm between ropes carefully wrapped around you as he turns up the speed of the vibrator inside you. He lays you across his lap, your two holes occupied with a plug and dildo, handcuffs holding your hands together, and a harness that shuts you up before adding a pair of clamps on your nipples and putting his dowel between your thighs. Then, he presses a vibrator on your clit. He... Definitely takes advantage.

His favorite position is doggy style, he can completely sink his shaft inside you, smacking that soft ass so good. The stimulation brings you both to tears. Almost always his overload accompanies your orgasm, bringing them to ecstasy as if it were their destiny. Bumblebee also likes to use your transfluid as a lubricant, so it's not something either of you worry about, store it disgustingly in a jar, it won't rot like human products.

At the end of the night the bed ends up a mess full of fluid mixture where you two sleep without much trouble. Predictably in the morning you wake up sticky and have to clean up the equipment, change most things and clean all the toys for the next use. It's not so bad, especially when the remote control vibrator comes back looking especially tempting to both of you for the rest of the day.

[drabbletron]

could we maychance get swerve with 1 on the smut prompt list 🗣🧍‍♂️

Can't Stop, Won't Stop: Swerve X Reader SMUT

|| Ngl, I forgot I finished this and never got around to posting it lmao! I've never written crying during sex, but I hope this is okay! I also really wanted to write some thigh stuff? idk, but it was worth a shot. Enjoy! ||

🔞 MINORS DNI 🔞

Already your thighs are coated in transfluid, and you've hardly let him touch you beyond making out and fondling. The soft feel of your thighs around his spike already driving him into overstimulation. How long has he been going at this? He can hardly keep track with how lightheaded he feels. It's like his sensor net has been set on fire and he keeps looping through too much and not enough. What you assume to be tears are dribbling down Swerve's face from under his visor and dripping down your calf as he holds your legs to his chassis, ankles crossed over one another against his shoulder.

"Just. Can't. Stop!"

Each thrust punctuates his words and he's overloading again onto your stomach and thighs once again.

The fresh wave of heat brings you to near climax yourself. Your skin is already so so sensitive and he's right there, just fucking you right above where you want him most. If he'd just shimmy down a little lower, you'd be in ecstasy, but he just won't. Does he want you to beg? Maybe his brain is too fried to think straight. You can feel your sex throbbing as he starts humping again, his grip on your thigh bruising as his other servo keeps your ankles together, and his spike gliding easily against you from being lubed by his copious amounts of transfluid.

"I can't believe you're letting me do this! Agh! I bet being inside you is going to be amazing! Oh Primus, I've been thinking about this for too long, y'know?"

On and on does he go as he keeps thrusting. His hips keep a snappy rhythm, and his voice raises octaves the faster he goes until it dissolves into static as he finishes a third time. So far, the berth below you is drenched in him and it creeps over your chest a bit when he hikes your lower half up higher.

"Swerve, please...!"

"Ah-- 'm sorry! You just feel so good and I-I want to make you feel good too," the slippery head of his spike continues to pump through your thighs with a quickness, "but your thighs are so fragging soft!! Nngh!"

Doesn't he know that if he just aimed downward that he'd be inside of you? It's right there! Maybe if you just-- OH there it is!

You scoot yourself down the berth and angle your hips up ever so slightly in his grip, and the lack of friction lets him suddenly slip down the apex of your thigh to grind deliciously over your sex and thank the stars above for the ridges on his fat spike because they stroke you just right! You dissolve into a moaning mess and toss your head back, saying his name like a song. It's hard not to arc your back, but bracing your hands against the berth helps to stabilize you to take more of his frantic pacing.

Swerve can feel the red-hot heat of your core and it leads to a fresh wave of tears, bigger and wetter, that fall over your legs.

"Frag is that your-- Ah! So warm! I bet you're so tight 'n soft! Wanna be in you so bad, please?!"

You can't even care that he's losing his mind now. You'll deal with that later after this is over, but right now, you need to get yours. Just hearing the sticky sounds of his thighs slapping your ass mixing with the wet schlick schlick schlick of his spike gliding through your thighs and against your sex is enough to bring you to the brink. Combine that with seeing his cable ravaging you and having that thickness running over you stomach, and you're finishing right along with him.

"Swerve-- 'm gonna...!"

"Me too--!"

With heavy sobs Swerve drives himself hard through your thighs and hot, pink transfluid pours like a fountain from his tip. The warmth oozes over your thighs and melts into your sex as you climax, core pulsing. He doesn't let go of you though, and you know you'll have marks tomorrow with how tight he's holding you.

This must be the last time for the night because Swerve's humping, twitchy as it is, has finally died down as he catches his breath.

"'That... that was... oh, damn...! We just -- and I – FRAG, that was awesome!"

Face still wet with lubricant, he looks down at you grinning hard before leaning in to kiss you. With a breathless laugh you kiss back.

"Just stick it in next time, will ya?"

[muletia]

[tfp] obsessed!orion pax x human!reader valveplug, minors don't interact!

based on this delicious ask about orion overloading from inhaling your pheromones and some tags provided by @tom-foolery-incorporated <3

word count: 800

Holding Orion’s helm on both sides, you pull him toward you, feeling no resistance from the startled mech. His faceplate lands against your chest, and you immediately envelop him in warmth, letting him sink into the softness of your human body. The familiar shape of your torso and the rhythmic symphony of your heartbeat give him a sense of comfort and belonging, as if, after a long, exhausting day, he has finally found his way home. Orion lifts his optics to you and smiles in gratitude, though you cannot see the expression.

“I missed you,” you murmur tenderly, pressing a kiss to the top of his helm.

“I am glad that our feelings…” he begins, but his words are abruptly cut off by the sudden, unfamiliar scent flooding his olfactory sensors.

It is sweet, unmistakably yours, yet tainted with something unknown — something he cannot name. Has no time to analyze it before the scent overwhelms him, urging to flee, to pull away before it does irreversible damage to his processor. Escaping should not be a challenge; after all, you are not restraining him, granting him full freedom to move. But the problem is that he hesitates to run.

One breath. Then another. And another. Each inhale draws the scent deeper, seeping into his very core, coating his spark, his tank, until it finally reaches the most sensitive parts of his frame, teasing them mercilessly. It creeps behind his interface panel, wrapping around his spike and valve, luring them into a dance with the desire that consumes him in an instant. Just moments ago, all he had wanted was to hold you close, whispering sweet words in your ear, but now — now, the image of sliding his spike into your tight, burning-hot folds is the only thought left in his processor. The only thing he wants to think about. The only thing he can.

Orion takes another involuntary breath, stress-induced from the sudden onslaught of overwhelming need, and it seals his fate.

“[Name]!” he cries out, voice breaking. His concealed spike spasms, and from its tip, thick strands of pink transfluid spill out, splattering against his panel before slowly dripping downward, seeping into the seams, finding their way out. Some rivulets trail down his thighs, while others pool onto the floor beneath him.

“Orion, did you just come?” you ask bluntly. Watching the way his back arches, his optics roll upward, and listening to the symphony of his stifled moans, you are certain of the answer. You should be surprised — after all, you had barely given him any real stimulation to get him to overload — but you know your partner well enough to have learned just how little he needs to unravel. Still, the meaner part of you, the one that always surfaces when Orion is deliciously pathetic, wants to see undeniable evidence of his overload.

“Move your head. I want to see.”

“Ah!” Orion whimpers. “N-No, do not look,” he pleads, suddenly ashamed of the intensity of his own desperation.

His embarrassment does not last long, though, because Orion does not want to pull away. He does not want to lose this intoxicating sense of helplessness, this loss of control that breathing in your scent grants him. He wants to stay right here, drunk on your sweetness.

You roll your eyes. “Oh, now you’re getting shy? Please, I’ve seen you worse.”

“Mhm,” he mumbles, barely processing your words. He inhales again, this time intentionally, and just like before, your scent floods his body. His still-hard, aching spike throbs, pleading for another overload, and his valve clenches around nothing, echoing the demand. He has no choice but to take in more of your scent, to drown himself in it. He presses himself against you harder, as if trying to meld into your body, rubbing his faceplate against your chest in a desperate chase for another untouched, hands-free climax.

Forgetting his own immense strength, he unwittingly forces you several steps backward, making you struggle to keep your balance.

“Hey!” you yelp, giving him a light, scolding pat on the helm. “I almost fell!”

That, finally, seems to snap him out of it — at least for a moment. Orion lifts his optics to meet yours, guilt flickering in his gaze. “A-apologies,” he murmurs, but his focus does not last long. He immediately buries his faceplate back against you, sensitive olfactory sensors dragging over your torso, trying to provoke another overload.

“Ah! [Name], please, help me!” he whines, his voice raw with need. He has to be inside you. Needs to ground himself, to find something solid to cling to, or else he fears he will completely lose his mind.

You sigh, feigning exasperation. “As you wish, love.” and Orion hurriedly retracts his transfluid-slick interface panel.

[karinadele]

Heaven

Ratchet x Reader

NSFW

Cept ur not even there. Just a deadass ramble spinoff of the main story.

Warnings: Angst, 18+ (ofc) just solo action + obsessed ratchet

…How? When did he have these feelings?

Under the starry night, he sits by the ledge of the cliff. Groaning as he runs a servo down his faceplate. She’s a human girl Ratchet. How did you fall so hard for her?

He could count the consolation, bore himself until he mapped out Cybertron. He could go for a drive, letting nothing stop him. But he won’t. His thoughts always came back to you. Fragile like glass, yet stronger than a dark energon infused scraplet. A bug that’s wiggled itself into him. He didn’t know when these feelings developed, just that now they’ve consumed every part of his circuitry. The longing for you is so painful. He’s lost the chance to hold you, and doesn’t know when he’ll have the chance again.

Was it the day he met you? Perhaps he was unconsciously already had his spark drawn to you at that moment? Or was it when you got the ekg tattoo on your forearm? A simple line symbolizing life, the very exact one on his arm. Whatever it was, you warmed into him. The unconditional love and care you gave him… Annoying as he felt in the moment, always telling him to refuel, to recharge… Now, missing it more than ever.

He remembered when you first got the tattoo, surprised that a human would physically change their looks permanently, and one to dedicate to him. Remembering the time when he ran his digit over it as soon as it was healed, the softness of your skin as well as the scabs from healing, sending jolts right to his own frame. Landing where his own markings were.

Sighing as he feels his spike pressurize, pressing against the plating. Something about a soft human– No. You. One he thought was the same as him, worn and tired of conflict, but you quickly proved that even with trauma, one can stand strong. One can still be kind. Not just in their line of work, but even in their personal lives. You told him it was years of therapy and work, but even he knew. That was not all it was. It takes the strength of steel, no. Something even stronger than the hardest alloy on Cybertron to be able to accomplish what you did.

A spark he long thought he’d lost. Yet you’ve managed to slide it back into him. Igniting it again.

Popping open his plating, as he glances around to make sure no one is nearby. He thought about how kind and gentle you were, always doing whatever to help out. What would those arms be if they were not holding energon cubes, but his spike? Slowly wrapping his servo around the base, as he imagines it to be your hand. Letting out a soft guttural groan as he deluded himself into feeling your warmth.

You often laid on his chassis. After finally coaxing him into recharge, everytime you would lay on him until you were sure he’s deep in stasis. A moment cut too short. If he knew you would be gone, he would have never allowed himself to shut down. Chasing the feeling of you again, he ran his free servo over his chassis, placing it where you always laid. Picking up pace with the other servo, he imagined if you were with him. Laying there, soothing him that it’s okay. Encouraging him to let loose, indulge in desires, and to overload.

Feeling his spark glow stronger. His energon lines pulsing through him, as he remembered how you would sit by his shoulder, patting and soothing his helm. What would those palms feel like on his spike? Running his servo up the length, he palms the tip, the feeling being softer than it actually is. Overwriting his sensors that it’s your palm, Gently rubbing him, as you wrap your hands over his shaft, stroking it up and down.

Now going at the steady pace, letting out groans as he continues to work himself. Only seeing and feeling you. He knows transfluid probably isn’t safe for you, but he wants to see you covered in it. To be dripping in his blue marking. Or perhaps filling it in you– even the thought of it just brings him closer. Pants chasing after pants, he moans out your name. Static gargling his vents as he flutters his optics. Picking up the pace, faster and faster as he hears you encourage him for his release.

He can hear you being proud of him, long has the guilt of doing something like this left. Replaced with kind words of encouragement, sweet nothings and a mutual desperate need of release. Grunting a static groan as he shuts his optics, other servo on the ground, propping himself up as he overloads. Spilling the blue glowing liquid all over his servo, wishing it was your hands.

A moment of calmness washes over him. It’s been so long he’s indulged himself in any sort of pleasure, and the fact that it was you that melted his exterior to tell him he should enjoy it, absolutely sends jolts down his spinal strut. Still feeling aftershocks as his abdomen plating shifts and clenches, dribbles of transfluid still oozing out.

He tells himself he needs to find you. Chase you to whatever depths you may be in. All that matters is that you’re with him. Pulling out a cloth from his subspace as he wipes himself off, processors running overtime to plan his next move.

[tom-foolery-incorporated]

Swerve x Reader Blurb: The Panty Raid

Gender neutral reader, racially ambiguous, very short, Swerve being a pervert

Swerve was kind of glad he could fit in the human quarters. 10 feet of minibot was probably as short as a mech could be but with the humans on board he felt massive. It was so strange being so much bigger than someone and he honestly didn’t expect to find it so endearing.

That’s probably how he ended up in his situation with his servos digging through your laundry.

Swerve found the shirt you wore yesterday to work out and brought it up to his olfactory sensors. The armpits of the shirt was still a little damp from your time at the gym. He ran his tongue over the sweat mark shivering at the salty taste of your skin still left over on the shirt coupled with the sweet taste of your deodorant made his engine rev.

Swerve sniffed every inch of that shirt before gently placing it next to your hamper and started digging through your soiled garments once again. His servo hooked on something small near the bottom. He pulled his arm out of your laundry basket only to stare at his prize with wide optics.

Your underwear.

Your used underwear.

Swerve held both ends of the elastic waistband in both his servos displaying his find before him. His optics were glowing brightly through his visor in excitement. The fabric was so soft and the pattern was so cute. Really, you could wear anything and Swerve would find it cute because it was on your body.

He looked over his shoulder plate to make sure your door was still shut before indulging in his new found treasure.

Swerve brought the crotch of your underwear to his intake giving his glossa a once over. The deep musky scent of your genitals remained on the fabric and Swerve could practically taste your sweet arousal on them. His engine revved in delight as he bunched the fabric against his olfactory sensors. His spike was practically leaking behind his modesty plate.

Swerve fantasized about cumming in your underwear. You’d hold your pants open for him as they bunch around your knees. Maybe you’d be rubbing his spike for him.

“I love your spike,” you’d say desperately. “I love you!”

Swerve doesn’t know how long he’d be able to last with his spike in your hand. Could you even get your hand around his spike? Fuck, you were so small and cute!

He’d be moaning your name desperately bucking his hips into your hand until his overload hit him. Glowing pink fluid would erupt from his spike making a mess of your underwear. It leaked down over the leg holes of your underwear making a mess in your pants. Being the gentleman he is Swerve would offer to clean you up but then you’d pull your pants up and rebutton them. His transfluid now snug against your arousal. Your pelvis practically drowning in his overload.

Swerve moaned into your underwear at the thought of you going about your day with his overload in your pants. His overload inside of you, on you, on your face, your chest, your hands.

He spike was fully pressurized and pushing against his modesty panel just thinking about your innocent face. You have no idea he’s doing this. You talk to him and joke with him so happily while completely unaware that he’s been sneaking into your room while you work to sniff your used clothes.

[mychlapci]

Someone made a point that TFP Opti's absolutely minuscule waist and hips (esp in comparison to anyone else) would not be very breedable and not so for carrying (if we're going stomach route type).

Okay true but what If I want him to suffer!! Squirm on a big ass virile Spike and get stupidly full in just one round already!! Struggle with his expanding middle, bonus if it's more than one newspark!! His form irrevocably changed to be less of that fit slim warrior type to a more plump carrier type (he's still kicking ass but now he'll have to adapt how heavy he is now... also whoever he's fighting would just be distracted on resisting the urge to ask him to sit on them or take a sip from his tits or let them put another baby in him!!)

And then the birth itself 🤤🤤 especially his first one, struggling so much just to push, not really knowing what to do beyond that, (ooh now I'm also thinking if it was eggs...) contractions hit harddd and bcs I just looove making him give birth in dire & inconvenient circumstances that he can't even have the option for a C-section or more (or any) painkillers!! He's leaking all over: optics, waste ports, tits, valve. He's desperately trying to spread his valve with his servos, begging to the sparkling/egg to oh please come out already? Won't you please be good to mommy and let me meet you?

OR anticipating the very painful birth ratchet did a pre measure of like adding to his emergence protocols to activate pleasure sensors instead of pain . Opti now feeling every inch every caliper being nudged away and slid over by his sparkling as it makes it way and OOPS ratchet didn't take into account just how pleasurable it'd be for OP (every other carriers never built up that much charge; their forms usually already more plumper than Prime's so the birth wouldn't be painful as his would ) as the large amounts of pain he would've been in gets converted to a sensation that rivals how he got sparked in the first place!! He's overloading just from feeling his sparkling going through the channel but UhOh that overload squeezed 'em right back in him!! He'll need to hold his charge for every one coming out!! It was a very long birthing but hey at least with how gaping his valve turned out it'll make his next batch easier.

(bonus: matrix resealing him instead after the whole ordeal but still keeping his new frame because Primus just be that freaky. Only way to avoid the reseal is if someone immediately fucked Opti and get him sparked again as soon as the last one's out.)

so true so trueeee all of this. tfp optimus' itty bitty waist being too impractical for pregnancy is the whole point!! maybe him suffer!! make him squirt!! i wanna see him trembling through overload after overload because the baby's stretching his tight little valve too well!

[legendarycherryblossomlove]

Can you do a Ultra Magnus/minimums NSFW that mech deserves much appreciation pls?

Stress relief

[Ultra Magnus x Reader +18.]

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[Warning: Fluff sex]

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It was like any ordinary day for Ultra Magnus, he had to take care of Rodimus' bullshit for the whole 24 hours shift. No rest, no breaks cause he knows how damn reckless that flaming Prime could be. Good thing he isn't the only one though, Megatron's scowled face during the entire day says so.

But today, you wanted to help your beloved Magnus. You notice how distant he was lately because of the endless reports given by him.

So you thought why not give a little visit? You know, catch up. It feels like forever. You guys haven't actually had such intimacy around the ship..

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Knock knock

"Rodimus, if you're here to annoy me. I do not need your constant ya-" Ultra Magnus was cut off when he saw you at his office door.

"Dear? What are you doing here?" He was shocked. Well, not much shocked more like surprised. He didn't expect you to visit him during his work hours. Or so he thought..

"I came here for a visit. Can I not visit my darling?" You said with tease but Magnus wasn't having it.

"I'm busy. Your constant yapping will have to be rescheduled next week."

But you whined at his words. He's always making up plans and never has the time to spend with you!

"Magnus please. Just this once?"

You pleaded with your gigantic conjunx. He was about to decline but since he's very busy, he sighed and lets you stay with him.

"Fine. But don't dilly dally on my work or my desk." He scolded lightly.

.

.

.

You could hear how Magnus would grunt and groan everytime Rodimus would assign him with anything.

"Are you oka-"

Boom.

Magnus' servos fisted up into a ball and hit it on his desk, breaking it into pieces.

"My love, calm down." You tried to ease his stress but he didn't listen. His frown deepening as stress overcomes him.

He lets out a sharp vent to calm down for a moment.

"I need to relax..." He unclenched his fists.

With empathy filling in your spark, you volunteer to be his little stress relief.

You placed a servo over your chest plate where your spark is.

"Ruin me, break me. Do whatever you want with me. In exchange of hoping it will help you relax, Magnus." You said with pure determination.

Magnus looked at you with a bit of horror but mostly it's just concern etched on his faceplate.

I mean, he was flattered with the offer. But the way you said it with raw words/affection without any hesitation, caught him off guard.

He was about to say something but was again cut off when you sat on his lap.

"And remember. Don't hold back until you're satisfied." Magnus was shocked due to your confidence.

.

.

.

Hot vents and moans filled his office as he gently ram his spike into your inviting valve.

Ultra Magnus' voice hitches. He's trying to warn you. He wants to warn you that he might break you just by his spike!

But you brushed it off with a soft caress on his cheekplate.

.

.

.

Between the soft and gentle fragging, Ultra Magnus would slow his pace. Even though his stress levels is on max.

Everything was going soft until...Rodimus started throwing in new reports for Magnus in his audio sensors. He can hear how many he needs to accomplish WITHIN A DAY.

In anger, his pace started to become rough and frantic.

"MAGNUS~! s-slow do-down ahh..."

You pleaded between your moans. His sudden rough pace caught you off guard, making you choke.

"I'm so sorry, dear. Its just that..- ah.." Magnus tried to apologise for his rough pace. But this is a life crisis. His stress is on the line and he isn't risking his mental health again.

.

.

.

After his overload. He quickly made sure that you were taken care immediately. Kisses, cuddles and words of assurance. He even offered a cloth to clean you up.

You then placed a servo on his cheekplate.

"Better?"

"A bit. But next time let me know if I was being too rough or much earlier..." Magnus said sheepishly

"I will, don't worry handsome."

"Love you."

"I love you too, dear."

[tinydefector]

Delightful distraction energyfluid Au

Soundwave x human

Word count: 1k

Warnings; smut, tiny/giant, oral, human fleshlight?, cum play.

Soundwave masterlist

The continuation of the energy fluid request I got here's the Soundwave one so I do hope you enjoy it.

______________

powerful digits never cease in meticulous tasks even as Soundwave cradles his lover against his midsection, optics and sensors split to focus on work while also monitoring each steady respiration and rhythmic beat pulsing through their relaxed form. 

When small fingers trace patterns across his plating it makes him pause for a moment, the familiar touches exploring curiously, dimming his visor and shuttering optics in content focus upon his partner's want. A low electromagnetic thrum resonates approval through his frame as talons release datapads, instead curling carefully around the organic's form in welcome of their caresses. They hum lowly as their fingers tease against his interface panel as if trying to gain access to his aray. 

His interface panel presses gently against inquisitive fingers, his powerful engine humming quietly. Hydraulics release locking clips with a soft hiss, folding armour slowly aside as his pressurised spike. Their eyesvlicker up to him with mischief as they look around to make sure no one else is around. “Getting bolder Sounds” they tease out in a husky tone trying to keep their voice quiet. 

Soundwave's visor shows as ‘shh’ emoji, which makes them nearly cackle at the humour of the silent bot. They smile up at him as their hands slowly wrap around his spike, lips pressing kisses along the length as they work him slowly. Trying to keep quiet.

At the intimate contact, Soundwave vents a restrained exhalation, visor darkening, his digits pause their typing as his other servo cups around them eagerly pressing them closer, talons carefully curling yet avoiding constriction that risks harm. 

Their lips eagerly work the tip of his spike slowly taking him into their mouth as they bob their head, their hands work his Length as they slowly rub their body against his spike. At his lover's mouth enclosing his pressurised spike, Soundwave ventilations stall, restraint, the sole barrier preventing unchecked vocalisations from resonating through his frame.   

Held gently yet firmly against his abdominal plating, they willingly grind against him. Soundwave eager thrusts against their smaller form, evoking fresh jolts through sensory network, electricity dancing across hidden circuits and nodes as hisother servo clenches onto the bench. His partner gives so freely to him, such a small creature so eager to please him. 

The Decepticon's powerful engines strains to maintain silence. Talons stroke delicate caresses across their hidden skin, talons tugging and pulling at their clothing until he finally had enough. talons peeling away fabrics with practised yet tantalising leisure. Plating radiates temperature to match delicate organic softness now pressing against his spike.

Their warm flesh presses against the heated metal and silicone of his spike. wrapping their arms around him as Soundwave slowly lifts and lowers their body grinding his spike against them as their tongue teases the head. Soundwave rumbles deeply in satisfaction, finally feeling their soft body pressed against his spike, 

Powerful servos guide their willing form in rhythmic movement slowly rolling his hips to meet theirs as his helm tilts back in pleasure. Soft breathless whines leave them as they let Soundwave use them as hisown personal fuck toy. Transfluid slowly leaks from his spike and they eagerly lap it up, lips pressed to the tip as they suck. He grinds harder against them and another low muffled moan leaves him. 

 their eager mouth lavishes each pearl of transfluid, drinking it down as quickly as they can. Each motion pulls pleasure from him, sensors ablaze with ecstasy. His tired and overworked system crumbles as his overload hits. Control slips, pleasure takes over his systems.

"Fuck... Soundwave " they whine out as they buck against his spike. Body pressed flush against it. "God tastes so good" they mumble out before their lips are sealed back around the tip trying to drink up every little drop that leaves Soundwave. 

The praise has him doubling over the desk, clenching them in his servo as transfluid spills from him. Gushing out from around their mouth and coating their body, his powerful frame stiffening as overloaded protocols flood sensory networks with white-hot rapture. 

Transfluid spurts forth in thick pulses beyond containment, meeting their welcoming mouth in endless waves dripping down their naked form as he continues to rut against the slinkees of their coated skin. They eager buck against his sensitive spike, driving bliss against tingling circuits, and over-stimulated nodes. 

 Their name becomes a soft prayer upon a  vented breath. frame convulsing Offline optics take a moment  before the glow to his visor returns. They giggle as his transfluid slowly coats their body dripping down the floor and seat as he continues grinding against them as he comes down from the high of overload, their lips eagerly lap up the sweet taste of the bright pink fluid as it runs from Soundwave's spike. 

Visor glows dimmed as other emojis pops up on his visor. 

😘🫵🛏🍆

They nearly burst out laughing, seeing the collection of emojis. Their fulfilled laughter vibrates through his frame melting his spark His pressurising spike grinds gentle yet thorough against flushed skin now glistening with transfluid's sheer abundance. Lips lapping eagerly at each escaped pearl stealing renewed jolts of ravishing circuits leave him helpless but to adore. “how about you let me enjoy cleaning up, then you can have round two in bed. Because I want to enjoy my treat” the offer to him which earns them a thumbs up emoji. Their mouth eagerly collected as much transfluid as they could, enjoying the sweet and bitter taste of the energy drink. “Mmm gonna get me addicted to this Soundwave” they state which earns them His digits trailing down their backs,  coating his fingers in transfluid And bringing it to their mouth. They slowly suck his digits, trying their best to not leave a drop left. 

“Your making me have bad habits” 

His visor Lights up again. Tilting his head down to watch them as a sting of saliva stretches Between his digits. A deep purr of delight rumbles from his chassis as the emoji flickers across his face. 

😈

___________

Taglist @angelxcvxc

[joideka]

Random Transformers Headcanons

transformers can see more colors than humans can. Cameras use something called the bayer color filter, which is a grid of red green blue squares that is taken and pixelated- by the same principles, optical sensors could have multiple color receptors (like add magenta and yellow)

Bots with more than two optics can pick up more colors (shrimp vision). Empurata victims lose color receptors in their optic, reducing vision to standard RGB

Depending on modifications, can see in UV, infrared, heat vision, etc. Earth is a sensory overload at times.

Giant seekers like shuttles and space stations sing in ultrasonic waves, often to communicate and identify, as each has a unique song. They're space whales :D

Some bots have UV paint lines on their armor that glow under certain conditions/in response to their spark feeling strong emotions. Could've been an old fashion fad or simply exposed energon nerving in their plating.

Most bots do not have true gray colored plating- it resembles too close to a dead shell and sometimes, some bots are taken to smelting pits because of this. The most common bots to have gray paint are miners and gladiators because it hides debris and injuries better, but also because it keeps them from having any individual identity. Megatron keeps his gray colors to honor his time as a miner and gladiator.

Seekers only stay to their trines/sparklings when sleeping, but ground alts often seek out large groups for security. When grounders are in new environments, often there will be one bot on watch and the rest huddled together at the camp ground

The lost light actually separates bots because of Magnus being an ass and not understanding sleeping dynamics cause it's been so long since he had his brother

Shuttle bots and larger prefer to sleep in their alt modes with their occupants safely tucked away

(last headcanon inspired by an instagram reel I saw by astragirlxx about sleeping groups of autobots)

That's all I've got for now!!!! :DDD

[squibsformers]

Silken Synapses

Jazz x Reader (NSFW)

AN: Happy Valentines Day. Reader has a dick but no pronouns are used.

The way the city lights filtered in through the blinds of your apartment window made Jazz stare up at you like you had to be the Allspark incarnate.

Streaks of vibrant blue danced over your skin with every bounce, your body leaving your silhouette cast across the wall. Violet caught the hard line of your jaw and optic ridge, and a rose highlights your aft as you rock and move. You looked like you were painted in neons and the midnight hour. And the noises you made? Felt like they were ripped from the stars themselves, bright and calling to his spark in the dark of the night.

Your hips rolled again, and the sound he made was all static and buzz, his vocoder struggling with how his sensors were running wild at the pleasure racing through him. One of your hands slid across his exposed panel, wires all on display for your discretion. And you made good use of such a treat, fingers skimming along rubber, dragging a nail lightly down one until the friction caught, and you opt to instead tug the flat cabling.

Jazz's intake dropped open in a drawn out groan.

“Frag, baby, you're filthy.”

His skittered, scrambled visual field was splintering, fracturing, his view of your form multiplying like a kaleidoscope of delight. Watching your other hand trail down your chest and slowly nearing your own spike- penis? Dick, cock, rod, too many words that made his currently overheated processor scramble to fit in one slot and overwhelm it.

…SPEAKING of fitting in slots, you began bounce on his spike more, slick and warm and- PRIMUS, that, that nasty little trick you kept doing, squeezing and tightening around him before relaxing again and moving quicker. It made Jazz grit his denta, throwing his helm back with a hiss each time.

“Tease…!”

The mass displaced mech was rewarded with a husky, silky chuckle that he swore, up and down, was weaving through his audials and caused lightning to zip down his backstruts. Jazz felt like he was going mad, ESPECIALLY as you looped a digit around a green wire in the upper left quadrant and unplugged it, dragging your tongue along the tip of the metal jack plug and sucking lewdly on it. He knew you wouldn't pull out anything important, he'd marked what could and couldn't be toyed with. But it didn't change the fact that when these were toyed with, they made his EM field buzz and flicker.

“Swear I can feel that. It's like my nerves are all tingling…”

You gasped, biting your lip and arching your back. Fist your member and begin stroking faster as you ride him harder, the sound of the flesh and skin clapping against the steel of his plating and the slick of lube and transfluid making for obscene noises ripped from Jazz's fantasies and sounding like a salacious symphony. His biolights flicker in patterns, that he can barely see through your skin every time he sinks deep into your aft- ass. Spike painfully pressurized and hitting deep within your depths, bullying your prostate pleasurably. Hellishly.

Grunting, he gripped your hips, and began helping you move quicker, venting in puffs and his cooling fans whirring louder.

“You close, my pretty little Porsche?”

“Mhm…!”

“Good.”

Bottom left quadrant had the most wires you could pull, and pull you did. In fact, you looped the whole mass around your hand, and yanked as you gasp and release into your condom. His systems went haywire briefly, optics locked onto the glitchy, iridescent image of you, and Jazz's overload crashed his systems like a powersurge, making the porsche unload into you.

[bubbiethesaur]

Hey, baby

Just a little sunhinged sketch for y’all

Laplace's Angel by Will Wood makes brain go brrrrrr

So this scene from Sun’s backstory made it into the start of chapter 16 of LRA, but it was originally much longer. I had pages and pages written, from Sun playing in the daycare with the kids to interactions with different people each time he woke up to scenes in Parts n Services. But each time I slipped it into the chapter, it didn’t work. It didn’t do justice to Sun’s story. So I took what I had and rewrote it, pulling in bits and pieces to create something that makes my heart ache every time I reread it.

But I also saved that original document. Once LRA is done (whenever that may be), I’m planning on releasing scenes, chapters, and ideas that never made it into the story on ao3, probably in a fic called The Scrapyard (lol). But for now here is a little excerpt from the original scene below the cut.

(tw: dissociation, graphic violence to human, reference to sa but not shown)

Sun looked at the bedroom door then down at his hands. There was something wrong with his touch sensors again. He was overloaded with sensations crawling over every inch of his metal coverings—the scratchy carpet and the tight leather harness and the horrendously gentle breeze from the air conditioner slinking through his rays. 

Too much input. Too much everything. He felt crushed and warped and overheated. He felt… he felt…

Angry.

So so so angry. His body shook, and the shriek of metal slicing across metal cut through the air. He caught his balance against the wall, digging claws into the off-white paint, as a second set of arms now extended from his waist. 

Strange. He thought those had been removed years ago.

The bathroom door opened and he singled in on the man entering the hall, shirtless and whistling in a way that made Sun’s audio input ring. With a startled double-take, the man froze, eyes popping wide and mouth hanging open in a ridiculous manner. 

“Hey, baby,” Sun simpered, waving all four hands. This time the smile that stretched across his face was genuine.

“W-what the hell, man?” 

Sun stalked forward as the man backed away, a lovely enticing hunger growing at the sight. 

“Are you ready to play something new?”

“What are you… sh-shut down, that’s an order,” the man stuttered, but Sun only crept closer. “I said shut down! Get away from me! Get away—”

The screams ended much too soon, even with Sun taking his time. The animatronic panted without breath as he peeled off the man’s skin, flayed him open like Sun had been every time he woke up. Blood soaked through the holes in the silicone around his hands, slick and warm in such a delicious way. He bit into the man’s neck just to taste it.

[drabbletron]

Hotimus Rodimus nnghhhh 🥵😩

|| (I call him that too! )This wasn’t supposed to be angsty in the slightest, but here we are! I love exploring the sadder side of Rodimus, and I don’t really feel like his outlier ability is talked about much. Hope you like! ||

|| EDIT! Fixed the word "fire-retarded" to "fire-retardant". That was my mistake! ty for letting me know! ||

Always Next Time (Fire Hazard): Rodimus x Reader SMUT/ANGST

🔞 MINORS DNI 🔞

tw: fire mention/flames

Rodimus isn't sure where to put his hands as you're going to town on his valve. Should he place them behind him on the berth, on his thighs, on your head, his own head? Where do they go?! And frag if what you're doing doesn't make him want to clamp his thighs around your little skull! Just crush you into him so you can’t go anywhere. It’s only made worse when you start outright sucking on his node. Oh, that little mouth gets you into so much trouble, and that tongue -- Primus you're going to offline him one of these days! Send him right to the afterspark!

You take notice of his fidgeting, and you know he needs something to occupy him. Not that your head game isn't amazing, but he looks like he's going crazy. He's panting and his venting is ragged enough you worry his fans can't cool him down enough to avoid a soft reboot. You don't even stop to think of your options and just put your hands up above your head, palms up as though you expect something in them. Rodimus blindly takes the hint and puts his hands in yours, whining when you place them on the back of your head and nod with a muffled "Mh-hm!"

“Are you sure?”

Theres no way you trust him enough to do that. He could hurt you! But at the same time, it's such a sign that you feel comfortable with him enough to put your safety in his hands. He'll just have to be careful is all -- and then you begin nodding vigorously and sucking hard on his node.

Electric waves course over his sensor net and he doesn't think twice before he's pressing against you to shove you deeper into him, and when you moan deeply against his valve lips he starts frantically rutting against you. The mesh is pillow-soft and slick from his lubricants, the taste is surrounding, and you feel like you're flying. If you're going to die this is exactly how you want to go out, face-deep in your captain's pussy.

He lets himself have whatever you're willing to give him and he's sure this is going to be one of the hardest overloads of his life. In moments he's retracting the rest of his modesty paneling and his spike shoots up into the air. It's slick with lubricants and prefluids, a pretty, glittering pink like what comes out of his valve, and he takes one servo reluctantly from where it cups you and he fists his spike.

Rodimus' grip is like iron over his cable and he pinches the tip enough that it borders on pain. The two sensations of pleasure from fragging your face and the harsh jerking on his spike put stars in his vision. Then room is hot, too hot, and he immediately knows what's going to happen next.

His optics shoot open and he's all but throwing you away from him as flames burst and run up his frame. You hit the ground hard, head connecting with the floor to leave you a bit dazed, and the light of his fire almost blinds you. the heat is so intense you can almost feel yourself loosing eyebrows. And, just as quickly as it came, the white-hot light is gone and you're being cradled in something soft. Blankets perhaps.

“What the hell was that?!” It’s all you can say as you feel yourself leave the ground. Something crazy is hardly out of the ordinary on this ship, but that was freakish if you had to be honest.

"I am so sorry! That doesn't usually happen! Are you alright?"

Your head is a bit sore, and you know it's going to leave a hefty knot tomorrow as Rodimus shifts you to examine you for injuries. You can feel the tension of anxiety that hangs like a storm all around him, and you know you need to be the calm one right now, if only for his sake. He was the source of the fire and he sounds so terrified right now.

"I'll be fine. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just, lost it for a moment there."

"So you set yourself on fire?"

"Not intentionally! It's just -- you were so good and everything was so intense, I just -- I am so sorry..."

All the gusto falls right out of him the more he looks at you.

"It's ok, Rod. I just didn't know you could do that."

You move to pat his arm, but quickly pull away when you feel the sudden sting of a burn.

Rodimus carefully sets you on the berth near the head and takes a place far from you at the foot. His spike retracts back behind his panels and he fixes his modesty plating to cover his valve, both dripping with transfluid, showing that despite the fiery event, he finished. Probably finished and caused the flare if you had to guess. His face tells a different story: he turns from you to look ahead at the wall, brow plate furrowed, derma drawn tight that his intake is a serious line, a scar over his usually carefree demeanor.

"Rod, baby... Are you okay? I'm not hurt, I promise. Just talk to me. It'll be okay."

Serious and laced with hurt, his tone is tight and flat, "I almost hurt you. Could've burned you -- killed you."

The heat wasn't hot enough to linger, being siphoned out of the room and replaced by the chill of the window looking out into the stars. Still, you'd give anything to take away that icy edge to his voice. It's not his fault this happened. No one could've predicted this, and you doubt he would set you up to get hurt. He'd never do something like that. You know him.

"Rodimus, it's okay. I'm not hurt. I know you didn't do it on purpose."

You stand and make your way to him, keeping the blanket over your shoulders so you can touch him. And touch him you do, leaning into his arm careful to avoid the pipes on his forearm and chancing resting your bare palm on his wheel.

He can hardly look at you, especially when you so willingly come to him after what just happened. He couldn't control himself when he needed to the most, so convinced that because you were okay with him being in charge of your safety, he could do the same. He let you down, but most of all he lied to himself. Told himself he could do it when he really wasn't sure. Let himself be overconfident, overzealous, overly excited to the point his outlier ability flared up. He's basically a walking fire hazard, and maybe you'd be better off with someone who wasn't so uncontrollable.

He feels your soft little hand on his wheel, one of the few places able to be touched since it's fire-retardant, and he looks at you. Your eyes soft like starlight, face gentle like the moon, and he can't see a trace of fear or doubt in you, like you accepted him and forgave everything all at once. If he were human, he's sure he'd cry. Instead, he breaks quietly and his face is suddenly so tired. He reaches for you, making sure the blanket stays like a barrier between your flesh and his plating because he's still not certain he won't burn you.

His servos are warm to the touch through the fabric as he pulls you into him, and he looks so sad.

"I'm so sorry."

"It'll be okay. You didn't mean it," you run a hand up and press it to his cheek. It's not as hot as the rest of him, and he leans into your palm. "We'll just be more careful next time, yeah?"

He nods, optics closing when you bring him into a barely there kiss.

"There's always next time."

[rawmeknockout]

For a request may I have fluffy smut with Ambulon? He's so cute and deserves all the praise!

His back is warm, wet, against your chest, rumbling under the armor in that way Cybertronians do: like an idling car. The distinct sound of his systems is hard to make out over the drum of solvent over his armor. But the sensation of it sends goosebumps rippling across your skin, arms twining about his shoulders as you press kisses to the nape of his neck cabling. You can already see the flush of heat overtaking Ambulon’s cheekplates, but he presses back, needy, into your embrace. He loves the touch of your flesh upon his sensors despite how abashed he is, too mortified by his own starvation to ask for more. As if begging for sustenance in the midst of ravenous hunger would be worse than dying of need.

Your nimble organic fingers press between the seams of his armor, work warmth into the tense cables overlapping protoform. Years of stress and uncertainty knotting beneath his metal, a strain that would take years to work out. For tonight, it would be enough to work away the stress from the last few hours of his shift. He melts into your touch, back pressing ever firmer to your chest as he allows his shoulders to gradually slope under your loving hands. As if finally aware of his own tension, the tautness of his body begins to ease, his jaw growing slack and upright spinal strut bending under the weight of his own frame, optics long having slipped closed.

Ambulon doesn’t fret or fluster as your hands wander his frame, blissful under your warm touch and the spray of solvent that pounds his open frame. You think he would crumple from the looseness of his cabling if he didn’t have you to ground him. Your fingers find the armor of his hips, the seams of his thigh joints, before your dominant hand cups his interface panel. A gasp stutters from his vocalizer, helm tilted back to rest upon your shoulder. It’s a moment of petting, fingers sliding back and forth upon slick, hot metal, before his panel clicks away to bare his half-pressurized spike and scantly wet valve. He lets out a barely there sigh as you take him in hand, stroking over the smooth segments of his shaft, coaxing him to full pressurization. Ambulon’s servos find purchase on the arm you curled about his midsection, seeking you to ground and hold him steady as he thrusts upward on unsteady pedes.

His helm lolls to the side, cheek pressing into your temple, frame open and wanting. In the quiet of the shower stall, hidden away from the universe, Ambulon unfurls under your hands. You press your lips to his pauldron, stroking him steadily towards overload; your conjunx letting you pull apart his stress tangle by tangle. Your name is but a whisper from his vocalizer as he arches into your touch, transfluid shooting from under the pad of your thumb as it swipes over the sensitive, bulbous head. He lazily picks his helm off your shoulder to lean back and kiss at your hairline, a soft, tired smile stretching his derma. As gentle with you as he is when he’s meticulously cleaning the medbay equipment; steady and placid.

[delight-angelsbliss]

hello hello! I really like your writing and was wondering if you think you could do metal sonic (or sonic if metal is too tough to write for this) and shadow with a reader that is really fidgety, impulsive, and is susceptible to sensory overload because of their ADHD? It's totally chill if you're not up for it though!!! I hope this is not too much work??? If it is, feel free to pick one character or ignore shkdiendvwkl

Warnings: ADHD if that makes people uncomfortable?

Notes: I also have ADHD myself but not the attentive type! It's sad because tiktokers make it look like ADHD is only the attentive type and therefore make people diagnose themselves or even get misdiagnosed by some doctors :(( some psychiatrists have speculated that my ADHD comes from another mental disorder I have but I'll wait for the diagnosis before making any assumptions. I tried using my ADHD to write a bit so I don't falsely assume attentive ADHD lol I hope u don't mind I've also been wondering if I should do all three or just the two but I went with two </3 btw now thinking of it sry for all the web users cuz my gifs probably look too small also these are a bit short

Precis: metal sonic + shadow with a reader who has ADHD

Metal sonic tag list: @francistimefranche @eternallykokomi

Metal sonic

Metal sonic isn't programmed with any therapeutic quirks, but that doesn't mean he won't try and be helpful. We've seen from some comics and games that metal helps and is (somewhat) nice to anyone who's a part of egggmans side, spoiler you're also on his side probably

His sharp wit makes it easy for him to notice your fidgeting and impulsive behavior. His knowledge about mental health is limited, but that doesn't mean he won't try and help you. Your leg is bouncing? He'll hold it down. Ripping the white part of your nails off? He's squeezing your hand until you give up. Metal sonic isn't a bad listener, I mean, he can't really talk ?? Anywho he'll still watch as you ramble on about something you've done today or wait for you when forgetting a word

He doesn't really understand if you find it annoying when he waves his hand in front of you when you're day dreaming (idrk like that ngl) if you don't, he'll always use that hand wave to get you to concentrate or come back to your senses

If you two are out somewhere and fighting, he makes sure that you don't have too many enemies or aren't overwhelmed from everything going on, I know for a fact he has some kinda sensors to detect if you're uncomfortable or about to crumble from everything being too much I WILL DIE ON THAT HILL FIGHT ME ABT IT

He doesn't know how to deal with sensory overloads but he knows how to prevent it; giving you noise cancelling headphones, helping you with tasks so it doesn't become too much etc.

He may not exactly know how your ADHD works or what it is but he tries his best to help

Shadow

Shadow knows what it means to be mentally ill, he just doesn't know how to properly care for it. Assuming you two are already extremely close or dating, his attempts will go above and beyond to try and help you

He doesn't want to lose another one or be a abandoned, his past trauma makes it easy for him to have these paranoid thoughts where he thinks you'll leave him because he doesn't know how to properly care for someone with neurological disorders like yours

He tries to research and consults psychiatrists to find ways to help you and lessen your daily burden; making sure you don't get involved in fights (if u do fight), always triple checking the news to see if there will be parades/smth loud before you go out and more. It gets to a point, a point that makes him seem over protective

Trying to find medication, exercises, headphones and much more to even get a silver of hope that he's going to be enough. It'll take a bit of reassurance and help to get Shadow to stop this mindset

That's when he truly locks in to make sure you're well taken care of. Now that he knows you won't leave him, he stops treating you as if your cracked glass, he let's you handle yourself at times!! That doesn't mean he completely stops taking care of you, he still takes care of you when the time calls for it, but now he truly knows what the difference is between "helping" and "overbearing"

[veryconnoisseurcherryblossom]

Predaking x Reader - Breeding.

(First time writing valveplug ever, please let me know if I got anything wrong/where I can improve. I also cross-posted on Ao3. Thanks!)

--------

“Mnngah… Pr-Predaking…” You moaned helplessly beneath the behemoth that was your Conjunx, your mate. You hear him growl into your audials, but you can barely focus on anything but his large, primary spike thrusting into you, all but piercing your gestational forge. His smaller, secondary spike rubs against your anterior node and belly with each thrust, the combined feeling of both drawing out desperate, whiny gasps.

“M-more, please more…!”

He chuckles above you, a warm ex-vent washing over your back. The room is almost unbearably hot, each vent you take barely doing anything to cool down your frame. In your internal HUD you see a warning about overheating, but you ignore it, turning off the warning system.

“Such a greedy little mate you are… Who am I to deny you?” Predaking begins to pick up speed, his thrusts becoming harder. You gasp and groan into the pillow, your tears soaking the plush cushion. Groans turn into squeals as your royal lover shifts your hips, changing your position ever so slightly, yet the ridges of his spike rub against your valve sensors in such a way that the renewed stimulation brings you closer to crashing, falling into euphoria.

“Predaking! Oh, oh Primus I’m- I’m going to-”

“Overload for me, my queen.”

Your scream reverberates around the cave, your frame shaking as you feel your calipers work feverishly on Predaking’s spike, all but trying to milk him of his transfluid. Not a moment later does he overload, spilling his seed deep inside of you and coating your chassis from his secondary spike. You shake in the berth, tired, sore, but oh so full.

Whimpering as he pulls himself out of you, you hear and feel him hum in approval, satisfied at the sight of your overfilled, puffy valve spilling his transfluid onto your berth. You can feel it leak down your tibulem, burning hot against your overheated frame.

“You will make a fine carrier, my queen.”

You sigh, content as you fall onto your side and roll onto your back. You tiredly bring your arms up, welcoming him for a hug with a near-delirious smile. He obliges without a word, wrapping his monstrously large arms around you and capturing your lips with his own, drawing you into a slow, lazy, loving kiss.

Pulling away, you look at Predaking with a bashful smile.

“One more time…? Just to make sure I’m sparked…” Predaking smirks, a rumbling chuckle emerging from him. His golden optics glow as he lines his spike up against your valve, drawing a mewl out of your vocal components as you feel his claw circle your over-stimmed anterior node.

“What a greedy little mate you are...”