#cybertronian reader

[cybertronian-reader-imagines]

How about someone who was recently turned into a Cybertronian and Team Prime tended to and comforted them? They have a lot of adjusting to do! 👀

TW: A bit of implied disassociation because, holy shit, suddenly you're a giant metal robot and that's kinda hard to wrap your newly non-organic brain around.

((Knock Out is here because there is not enough Autobot!Knock Out and I love him.))

Team Prime comforting Reader, who just got turned into a Cybertronian, would include...

Optimus reassures you from the first moment that you have a safe home with Team Prime, should you choose to stay with them. Of course, you do. He makes sure you have the time and space to adjust and be comfortable with your new body before jumping into anything. He's just there if you need him, which some days is more helpful than everyone's else's efforts to offer unsolicited advice right off the bat.

Bumblebee helps you adjust to having wheels by challenging you to races that double as training whenever possible. He is almost certainly going easy on you, but nobody ever tells you as much.

Bulkhead is the first to realize that maybe you just really need a damn hug right now, if only because he's not very good with words. He hugs you and reassured you that it will be okay, and you're amazed how warm and fuzzy you feel afterwards, even though you're fairly sure your new body doesn't actually feel such minute temperature changes.

Ratchet tries to be "comforting" by explaining how your new body works... in detail that goes way, WAY over your head. But eventually, you get him talking about Cybertron's history and culture, and realize that your two species aren't all that different after all, which helps more than an anatomy lesson ever could.

Smokescreen is quick to remind you that you don't have to go back to your boring human school/job/house/whatever. Depending on how much you liked/disliked your old life, this is either incredibly helpful or incredibly irritating. If you get upset with him though, he's quick to apologize, and it's hard not to be comforted by that well-meaning smile and a servo patting your shoulder.

Arcee might somehow be even more protective of you than she is of the humans - she knows what happens when bots overestimate how much they can handle, and she figures that's really easy to do when you go from being a tiny, fragile human to a giant robot. Sometimes it's hard to hear her remind you that you're still mortal, but she means well. "Okay Mom, I get it."

Wheeljack, like Bulkhead, isn't very good with words, but he's also not very good with affection. What he can do, however, is listen. He's there the first time you get frustrated with the rest of the Team - not because they truly did anything wrong, but because being cramped into a tiny base with people you've just met will irritate anyone - and he never breathes a word of what you vented to the others. The Wreckers had their spats too - he knows you'll all be cool at the end of the day.

Oh Primus help Ultra Magnus he doesn't have a comforting servo in his body, but at least he's honest about that. In fact, he's the best bot to go to when you're ready to have things less sugarcoated.

Knock Out doesn't understand what the fuss is about - why would anyone ever want to be a squishy, gross organic when they could be Cybertronian? Humans couldn't turn into cars, for one, and couldn't be polished. He gives you a fresh coat of paint and polish and tells you how much better you look now - it does help, in a way. Being able to pick out new paint makes you feel a little more like your new body is really your body.

But honestly? Your biggest comfort might just be Jack, Miko, and Raf, if only because they will remind you any time you so much as frown just how cool being a giant robot is. And then you remember, yeah, it is pretty cool, actually.

#EVERYONE is here! #platonic #x reader #tfp x reader #transformers x reader #maccadam #optimus #bumblebee #bulkhead #ratchet #smokescreen #arcee #wheeljack #ultra magnus #knock out #jack #miko #raf #cybertronian reader

[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...”

#writing #valveplug #Predaking/Reader #PredakingxReader #Predaking x Reader #tfp predaking #transformers #reader insert #gn reader #cybertronian reader

[i-starcreamed]

Since we all know megatron is ruthless when it comes to fighting, Can I get some HC's for tfp Megatron and what his expectations for his cybertronian child would be like if he had one? Any special treatment? Or expecting more from them than anyone else?

MEGATRON'S CHILD HCS

yayy more HCs

[ cybertronian child!reader familial bond, idk if this counts as x reader but leaving that in anyways.

Definitely feel like it’s a mixture of both

Does not let his child socialize with lower-status decepticons, at least without making sure you're bossing them around and that's it. Also certain specific bots, no

Wanna interact with Starscream? Too bad, they only get to see him if they coincidentally happen to be in the same room. No matter the universe tbh, they're banned from talking to him

Very supportive about teaching them how to fight for the deception cause, despite being insanely protective. Most likely will not just toss them onto the front lines but would like for them to know how to defend themselves and take down an autobot

They also get the best conditions for uhh, everything? Very much a spoiled child

Buut, he also expects more of them. They're the child of MEGATRON, LEADER OF THE DECEPTICONS AND CHAMPION? Of course, he's gonna have high expectations

he teaches them how to fight well but gets cocky with it. Yeah, he wants them to fight as good as him but not better. Will literally point out every little mistake when they're training too

If they're sparring with him i feel like they're still gonna get hurt, he calls it resistance training or something idk...

Expects them to take after the decepticons if he's ever killed btw. Like, starts training them for that as soon as they come into existence.

hits them with the "when im gone.." speech

If they sit on his throne when he's not in the room or away, he most likely knows but will let them get away with it :3

Bonus: When Megatron was high on dark energon you had to calm his delirious ass down like telling an old, confused man to take his meds.

Please take your meds Megatron, don't jump into that volcano

#transformers #transformers x reader #maccadam #megatron #megatron x reader #tfp x reader #tfp megatron #tfp megatron x reader #cybertronian reader #child reader #dad megatron idk

[cyberrose2001]

AYYYYYY! Do you remember that request I sent a while ago of the Ratchet x Fem reader? Ya know where Ratch gets to frag the reader to blow off some steam?

Reader is Cybertrionan btw if that's okay!

Stress Relief

TFP Ratchet x fem! cybertronian! reader

whoaaa you can tell I started this months ago eheh… apologies for the long wait I hope y’all can forgive me 👉🏼👈🏼

Warnings: oral, dom!ratchet

Word count: 517

18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

“I’ve been waiting all day for this,” Ratchet huffs, tossing you off his shoulder and onto the berth, “Too fraggin’ long, if you ask me.”

You refrain from making a smart aft comment about how he had actually been waiting all week, but you’re too preoccupied with how he’s pulling your hips closer to the edge of the berth.

It’s always the same with Ratchet. He would have a busy week (aka working his processor to near power down), barely seeing him all day, then apologise profusely for coming to berth late. And by that time, you’d already be in stasis, waking up to your frame gently tucked into his while he spoons you. It annoyed you, having to wait days; hell, even weeks sometimes before Ratchet had a chance to lay a digit on you.

But you’ve quickly learned throughout your relationship that the longer Ratchet goes without interface, the harder he fucks.

His digits are pressing into the seams of your hip plating, calculated and efficient with aeons of experience against your frame. A low moan escapes your throat as you feel your modesty panel easily click open. You’re already dripping wet at the anticipation, and it hasn’t gone unnoticed by Ratchet.

“Then why don’t you frag me then, hm?”

“Oh, I intend to,” Ratchet kneels on the ground, two servos keeping your thighs spread as his hot breath teases your valve, “Only if you can suppress your smart commentary and let me indulge in you first.”

You crane your neck as you watch his dermas latch onto your exterior node and subsequently throw it back against the berth with a clang as he starts sucking and flicking against your node. It’s electric and oh so sensitive as he scrapes it against his dentae.

“Oh, Ratchet.” A filthy mewl escapes your mouth, bringing a servo to his helm when he starts drawing slow circles with his glossa, “Please, I can’t- I need-“

“You need what, exactly?” Ratchet lifts his helm from your heat, and primus, your fluid already coats the lower half of his face in a pink sheen.

“Need your spike- ahhn.”

“What do you want me to do with my spike?” A harsh kiss to your abused node sends shivers up your back strut, which turns into clamping your thighs around his helm as he plunges his glossa into you.

“F-Frag… do you need to ask… nghh… so many questions?”

“So impatient, aren’t you?” Ratchet rolls his optics with a groan, either out of frustration for your impatience to hasten things or his desperate need to shove you face-first into the berth, “Turn around, let me see that pretty aft of yours, sweetspark.”

You obey his command, pedes firmly planted on the ground as you bend over the berth. A weak whine vibrates the bed as Ratchet presses your helm into the silky sheets, another servo pushing his engorged spike against your cunt.

“Now be a good femme and stay still for me,” He groans, sheathing his entire spike into you before pressing his body weight against your back, “my little stress toy…”

#transformers x reader #transformers prime x reader #tfp x reader #tfp ratchet x reader #cybertronian reader #fem reader #valveplug #cyberrosewrites

[lunarbreaksblog]

Tfp!Megatron x Reader

Horizon of Memories || Prologue ||

Your name was MD-1TF.

You were built to mine and refine ore that you mined, you were great at your job… till your fellow miners decided to name themselves. You couldn’t imagine having a name, finally one of the bigger miners that you knew, Megatronus, asked you.

“What is your name?” He always spoke of freedom to the rest of the miners and you.

“I don’t think I can have one” You muttered under your breath.

Having a name…having the implications of another life was bizarre to you. 

“Nonsense! You can have one, who is to control us?” He retorted at your answer.

“Give me time then… to pick one” You hastily agreed, wanting to avoid conflict. 

His optics softened at your new tone, he knew that you were rather ‘anxious’ of him and the rest. It wasn’t because you thought you were better. You just wanted to do your own thing. He would give that to you, the freedom of choice. He would give it to everyone!

It had been a while before he came across you again. You and him were paired up to mine some platinum in branch P-14, he got rid of the rock and gave you the ones that held ore for you to process.

Your frame was different to his, Megatronus was built for the tough work while your long digits and built furnace were meant to refine and pickout the precious minerals from the rocks that he gave.

There were few of your frame types, he saw. You were rare, only the high-grade extraction sites could commission a bot like you, but frankly he knew that you were won over from another extraction site through a bet the Head Commander had won.

He saw how you didn’t want a name, he knew why– you’d rather feel like an object than come to terms with the things that you’d face. He could understand it. The feelings of sympathy and sadness were strong whenever he saw you.

That's what drove him to do the things he did. So everyone could have a choice.

So, when one day he was assigned again with you, you didn’t appear for your duties. Instantly worry overcame him, if anyone didn’t appear for their duties they would get a punishment that ranged from an extra shift to straight-up abuse at the hands of their higher-ups.

His friends told him to forget about you. He looked for you for a while, he even went to the Head Commander, who scoffed at him and ordered him back to mining with an angry scowl.

You didn’t even have a name, how would he find you.

Why did he want to find you?

What was important about you?

You were the freedom he fought for.

But now his freedom was gone but not for long

#transformer #transformers x reader #tfp #transformers prime #prime Megatron #megatron x reader #tfp megatron #tfp x reader #imagine #cybertronian reader #tfp megatron imagine #megatron imagine #tfp megatron x reader #x reader

[orion-nottson]

devil’s in the details | tfp!megatron x reader

A/N: i have tfp megatron brain rot. like i know he’s cray cray and deluded, but literally so am i we’re made for each other he’s mine

also this obvi deviates from canon, bc there is no way on god’s green earth that dreadwing and starscream could coexist semi-peacefully.

also, please be warned that i haven’t written transformers fanfic since i was like 14 💀💀 fought for my LIFE with the terminology (had to check my old WATTPAD stories to find some vocab 💀)

summary: lord megatron propositions you. it’s a rather bold request.

content: SMUT, 18+ ONLY, minors DNI, femme!cybertronian!reader, seeker!reader, sticky sexual interfacing, breeding kink, wee lil bit of choking, technically boss/employee relationship, power dynamic (it gets semi-resolved), implied past relationship/thought unrequited love, average decepticon emotional constipation, business arrangement procreation

word count: 6,367

~ * ~ * ~

The Decepticon warship lingers somewhere over the southern pole of Earth, resulting in a dramatic decrease in temperature, even with the efficiency of Cybertronian technology. You shift your wings for the umpteenth time, armor plates releasing air to alleviate the discomforting chill that’s started to bother you. Of course, it was far from being so cold that you needed to worry about your core temperature, but you are a Seeker from Vos, and Vos was always warm.

The thought makes your wings tremble again, so you hurry yourself to your quarters with a bit more haste.

It wouldn’t suddenly be warm and tropical, but at least you’d be able to curl up and shiver in privacy. Recharge sounds particularly nice too, considering you’ve been up for several cycles trying to appease Lord Megatron’s endless demands. Inwardly, you roll your optics— There seems to be nothing you can do that would satisfy him.

The corridor finally breaks into the wing that houses Decepticon high command, where yours and your fellow officers reside. Your room is down almost the entire expanse of the hall, the turn right before where Megatron’s personal habsuite lies. From where you’re walking, you can spot the sleek, black metal door. A chill runs up your back struts, and your processor convinces you it’s from the icy cold that’s overtaken the Nemesis.

“Curse this inhospitable, organic planet.” Muttering to yourself dissuades you from also blaming your Master, who was no help either, if you were to be honest. He could shove his “not wanting to expend precious Energon on unnecessary heating” decree up his tail pipe.

You resign yourself to some rather cold nights for the foreseeable future. Perhaps... If you played your cards right, as the humans say, you could convince Soundwave to pilot the ship north. Maybe somewhere near Hawaii...

A sharp, gravelly voice from behind you calls your name, and you spin around to see your Lord and Master a ways down the corridor from you. Immediately bringing yourself to attention, you straighten your back struts and bow politely.

“My liege.” You say, thanking Primus you’ve become so accustomed to Megatron’s thunderous shouts that you no longer jump, let alone flinch, when they occur. The silver mech strides up to you easily, displaying all the strength of a warrior in the confidence of his steps.

“Retiring to your quarters?” He asks austerely, as if he’s ever concerned himself with your whereabouts, let alone personal routine. Unease creeps up on you, so you shift on the thrusters of your peds and cross your servos over your chassis. Wings fluttering, you reply slowly, “Well, yes.”

“Allow me to accompany you there.” The silver mech says brightly, and it’s such an absurdly peculiar request for both the mech saying it and the situation at hand. You instinctively snort a laugh.

“I do believe I know the way to my own habsuite, my Lord.” You say before you can stop the words from coming out, and immediately regret them once they do. You meet Megatron’s hard stare sheepishly, wings dropping timorously. Forgetting your place in the grand scheme of things is not wise amongst the Decepticon ranks.

To your utter shock, you’re not met with a vicious reprimand and instead Megatron grins— this wickedly suave thing— and purrs, “Humor me.”

And all you can say is, “Of course.”

Megatron hums appreciatively, brushing past you as he takes the lead, like he always does. You step in time behind him, nearly colliding into his back struts when he suddenly halts, and you stumble backwards a few steps. The looming mech pivots, glancing down at you with a quizzical expression in his glowing optics.

“Seekers are a rare breed, yes?” Lord Megatron asks, and whatever game he’s begun to play with you genuinely stumps any reasoning you attempt. Opening your mouth, your optics dart over his face, trying to decode whatever message your Master is sending and coming up empty. 

“Er... Yes, my liege? Even before the war, Vos was not a populous city-state. There are probably... even less now.” You reply cautiously, becoming very put off as Megatron takes a step towards you. He looks as impassive as ever, though you’re beginning to see a very curious appraising expression overtaking his faceplates. It begins with the upcurve of his mouth, derma pulled into the most wolfish grin you’ve ever seen on the mech.

Utterly bizarre. Your processors want to reset because this Megatron is starting to look like the studly gladiator of Kaon you’d hear be lasciviously giggled about, not the ruthless, merciless tyrant he’s supposed to be.

“I have a rather... avant-garde proposition for you, my most loyal Seeker.” Megatron purrs, his servos clasped easily behind him as you’ve seen him too many times before, often when he schemes. He’s also talking to you as if this is casual, expected business of him; matter-of-fact and cordial, with his usual cool drawl.

Before you can reply, Megatron turns sharply once more and begins walking down the corridor, stopping after a few steps when he realizes you hadn’t started with him. He turns his helm to look back at you, this time there’s this strangely unreadable expression on his faceplates.

“Follow me.” He says simply, and without a second thought, you do.

Even though you’re a Seeker with naturally long legs, his pedsteps are even longer strides, so you have to exert some effort in keeping up with Megatron. It adds to the growing franticness that’s begun to bubble up inside your chassis. 

While not exactly fear, though that’s certainly part of it, you’ve been a Decepticon and aboard the Nemesis under Megatron’s direct command long enough to know that when he becomes cryptic, it means trouble. Or at least a command that you’d rather not be the one to deal with. Bluntly asking what the frag he’s on about wouldn’t be the best course of action, but you know that he likes you enough not to offline you immediately if you did.

So you do.

“My Lord, what exactly are you asking of me?” You inquire, noting with slight abject horror as Megatron approaches the door to your quarters and types in your lock code with ease. Of course, he is the leader after all. Instead of answering your question, he makes you feel even more uneasy by throwing you a mysteriously sultry look and quipping, “Let me have you if only for a breem. Or longer should I entertain you.”

You catch the flash of his ruby optics, their intentions indiscernible, and then he disappears into your habsuite like it’s his own.

There’s something to it, an itch of a thought that’s begun to decipher the puzzle and put together the pieces. Lately, Megatron has been far more... involved with you, more eager at your presence, and it was blatantly obvious that he grew quite miffed when others got too close. It was no secret to anyone— From Soundwave and Starscream to a lowly technician— that Megatron had an optic for you (many did, frankly) and thus he was quite possessive of your wiles and charms as well.

This line of thought leads you to step into your room, slowly and evenly as if it’s unmarked territory and not the quarters that were assigned to you millennia ago.

“Lord Megatron...” You trail off, catching his stare just as he sets your old null ray back on your weapons rack, where most of your old, dismantled, and prized tools are located. Your null ray had been a favorite, until some blasted Autobot blew out the important bits that kept it working. That had stung, and even eons later you still curse that specific Autobot to the Pits.

Megatron flexes his claws, and with a flourish he clasps his servos behind him once again. His red optics scan the entirety of your quarters, lingering on your berth until they come back to rest on you. His gaze is equal parts unnerving and fascinating, as if he’s deconstructing you armor by armor, stripping you down until he’s watched your spark pulse.

His optics, like twin red suns, center you at their universes, and you feel oddly... flattered at their amorous disposition.

“It is no secret that I have watched you for some time.” Megatron starts, tilting his helm as he becomes pensive. You nod dumbly, hardly processing a word he’s saying. Megatron takes a single step towards you, looming like a shadow. In the dim lighting of your room, his silver armor catches all the chiaroscuro, his violet accents hued to black. Only his glowing, fiery optics remain bright. He continues.

“I admit,—” Megatron drawls your name deliciously, “— That I have found myself... captivated by your beauty. Entranced by your prowess, both in battle and mind.”

“I...” Your vents hitch, wings shivering at the praise. Blinking rapidly to ensure this isn’t some monumentally vivid dream, you clear your intake and say, “I don’t know what to say. Thank you, my Lord.”

Megatron laughs, that slight chuckle that sounds halfway between his engines roaring and something genuine that comes from the spark. The silver mech’s rolls his shoulders, armor hissing as it releases air. Wildly, he confesses something you never would have expected from him, “I believe myself bewitched.”

His servos have clasped themselves into fists at his sides, and briefly you wonder if he’s angry with you, then his entire frame relaxes like he’s decompressing after a long spar with Dreadwing.

“Tell me, my little Seeker, why have you denied yourself of me for so long?” Megatron asks it like a tease, like he’s some boon to be revered or a sacred sword to be wielded. Heat rises beneath your armor plating, and your processors race kilometers a nanosecond to find a suitable answer. Or at least one that doesn’t make you sound like some lovesick femmeling.

You couldn’t lie and say you had no... feelings for your Master, who was as handsome and dark as he was powerful and cunning. Megatron was once a gladiator of Kaon, and gladiators on Cybertron were what you had often admired, marveling at their strength, drive, and raw spark. Megatron had been no different, though you also found his commanding presence and impressive intellect to be even more attractive.

That was really why you’d joined the Decepticon cause all those millennia ago; Drawn to your Master’s fight to bring equality to the rigid castes and to seize control of the Energon supply to better disperse it by his charismatic allure.

And somehow, Megatron knew all of this.

“It would have been insubordination if I acted upon my... desires.” You reply, crossing your arms over your ample chassis with a shrug. Megatron matches your collected temperament with a hum, staring down at you with unreadable red optics.

“Indeed. Though I wish you’d had disobeyed, my little Seeker.” Megatron purrs, taking a step towards you that closes the space between your frames and boxes you in. His EM field magnifies the atmosphere around you, tingling at the periphery of yours.

“M-My liege?” You gape, faceplates feeling hot as metal left in direct sunlight. He chuckles, and sinfully the tip of his glossa runs over his pointed denta. Your spark skips a beat, owlishly watching 

“If I had known sooner that you wanted me as direly as I did you, then this song and dance would have concluded vorns ago.” Megatron growls, optics flashing with not anger, but lust. He takes another step, and you’re speechless.

“That being said, I am patient. I have no qualms with how long we have waited, nor will I if you choose to wait longer.” One of the tyrant’s long, clawed digits clicks at the bottom of your chin, tilting your face upwards. His touch is delicate, like you’d break if he pushed too hard. Honestly, you probably would if he did. Part of you wants to see him try.

“What did you want to ask of me?” You whisper, optics fluttering until they stay half-lidded and dewy under the carnal scrutiny of your Lord. Megatron grins, a sliver of sharp denta flashing in the lowlights of your habsuite. He takes a final step towards you, a half-shuffle that does well to close the gap between your frames, the air warming from the work of your combined engines. You hope he feels the way your spark races, hope he feels the heat emanating from your core.

“Give me an heir, carry a sparkling of my code and stand beside me as my queen.” With each word, laden with desire until it shows in his optics that drip with lust, Megatron has you against the wall of your habsuite, one servo tracing the sleek edge of your wing.

It’s entirely intoxicating, and against your better judgment and all remaining reason— and mostly because you haven’t had a good, hard frag in ages— you moan.

It’s a soft, angelic sound that barely catches on the audials, but it makes Megatron grin like a shark. You gasp, affronted, optics flickering, “My liege!”

“Have I offended you?” He breathes, and suddenly his mouth is against your neck cables, each word leaving the softest of kisses on your Energon lines. Your resolve nearly crumbles entirely, each brush of his dermas like a shot of high grade to the systems. You sigh, vents hissing, and place one servo on his chassis. Beneath the broad expanse of silver armor, his engines rumble like thunder on the horizon. It makes you pulse with need.

“No.” You whisper, wanting to sing as Megatron kisses the slope of your jaw, then pecks the side of your mouth, agape with shock. He pulls back, the heat of him evaporating as soon as he’s once again standing at his full height. You tremble, not from the cold, but from his absence. 

It’s not something you’d ever given much thought about, your feelings towards your Lord and Master, but it’s something that’s come rushing back. All the suppressed thoughts, the dashed dreams, the impossible futures... They come back to you and leave you weak in the knee joints, cooling fans whirring from the memories of the fantasies you’d entertained when you’d had long midnights alone.

“What say you then?” Megatron’s stare is hard, unshaking and fully serious. He wants to have a sparkling with you, wants you to bear him an heir— He wants you as his queen and equal, to stand beside him and lead the Decepticon cause. The expression on his face is a cross between a wild animal, wanting to ravage you the nanosecond you say Yes, and the warlord with enough resolve and self-restraint to accept if you say No.

It’s all so much at once. Eons of time made up in just a single question. Details and technicalities will have to be conferred over later, as for now you’re content with the conditions as-is.

“Well... You are a handsome mech, my liege.” You reply, teasing him by placing a chaste kiss directly on the Decepticon insignia on his chassis. He doesn’t say anything, only his engine rumbles more audibly. You look up at him and salaciously imply with a coy smirk, “I do believe we’d make a fine clutch of sparklings.”

And then you find yourself swept up into his arms, back struts and wings pressed against the wall, your Lord’s hips slotted perfectly against yours. The more base urges inside you squeal, your Seeker coding nearly overtaking you and having you present to him like a turbofox in heat.

Not one to be outdone, Megatron quips, “And you are quite the striking femme— Shall I ravage you against the wall or your berth?”

You laugh, cut off only when Megatron captures your dermas in his, drowning you in the roughness of a mech starved of Energon. He kisses like he owns the practice and has made it an artform; Dragging your dermas with his, glossa invading your mouth, denta nipping dangerously close to sensitive nodes and wiring. You moan and gasp, coming to the realization that one of your servos grips his wrist and the other is flat against his chassis.

You shutter your optics, reveling in Megatron’s power and dominance, wanting so desperately for him to devour you. The warmth blossoms, spreading throughout your core until you feel charges pulse at your interface panels that have you whimpering.

After what feels like vorns, Megatron parts and your dermas unlock with a metallic pop. Megatron’s mouth ghosts over yours, and he hums as he repeats himself, “Berth or wall, little Seeker?”

“The berth, my liege.” You urge breathlessly, a delighted sound escaping you as Megatron heaves you from the wall and carries you to your desired destination. He isn’t gentle when he deposits you on your berth, doesn’t mind the wings, so you hiss when your back struts connect with the metal beneath you. Megatron manages to keep himself between the smooth metal of your thighs as he hitches one knee up onto the berth.

“I wonder,” Megatron stops to kiss you deeply once more, making your processors spin, “If this is an auspicious position for conception.”

A bite to the dermas stifles your wanton moan. Your Lord may not be fully aware of it yet, but each mention of being sparked, of bearing his heirs, has your more base urges spiraling out of control. While Vos was not populated by many Seekers, the need to breed is more hardwired into the programming than most other frame types. His words act like fuel to the fire.

“O-Oh— I can only hope.” You gasp, your whimpering cries smothered by Megatron’s dermas in yet another bruising, brusque kiss. This time, he lingers, slows down as if he savors the taste of you on his glossa. Your servos grip his shoulders, smoothing along his breadth before your pointed digits grip at the armor panels high on his back. Megatron responds most enjoyably, using one servo to anchor himself above you and the other to caress down your body.

His servo travels from the curve of your waist, talons scratching at your paint, down to the slope of your hip where it rests heavy and warm on the junction of your thigh. He teases the sharp point of his thumb digit on the transformation seam nearest your interface panels, causing you to arch your back struts like a cat. Megatron uses this opportunity to settle a servo on the low of your back struts, where he pinches at the sensitive nodes at the bases of your wings. That makes you cry out, your cooling fans whirring loudly as a charge builds up deep inside you. 

You’ve never been this close to an overload so quickly before, though you’ve had many sleepless nights built up to bring you to this moment. And Megatron proves his expertise in the berth, past rumors and gossip proven to hold more truth than you once thought. 

Your entire frame feels electrified, your lower body feels like it’s on fire, the heat centered gloriously on your interfacing parts. Particularly your valve and anterior node, which feel wet and pulse beneath the panel with each of your sparkbeats.

“You react so gratifyingly.” Megatron purrs, his gravelly drawl like fine high grade on the audials, uncharacteristically sweet and sensual. He glances down at your interface panels, where your glowing transfluid is beginning to seep out along the seams. With a devious grin, Megatron meets your gaze just as he presses his thumb digit to your overheated panel.

“Megatron!” You cry his name, forsaking honorifics, and nearly overloading on the spot. Almost unconsciously, you send a command and your valve panel slides open, revealing your weeping slit and throbbing anterior node. You cry out again when Megatron wastes no time and starts tight, small circles on the sensitive bundle of mesh wire and circuitry.

“Beautiful.” He hums, quickening his pace on your anterior node as he notices sparks fly as your charge builds. You grip his back, claws digging at his silver armor and leaving scratches in his already worn paint. Megatron leans in, steals your dermas in a kiss, keeps circling your wet node, and just as you see warnings for an imminent overload— He stops.

The charge doesn’t die, but it decreases to a staticky tingle, and you part from the kiss, scandalized that he’s prevented your overload. You gape at Megatron, giving him a glare that could rival the World Destroyer’s himself. He only offers you a sly look.

“My liege.” This time you growl the title past grit denta, bucking your hips against your Master’s still servo. He hums, your anger meaning nothing to him, though indulging you by brushing two digits along the transfluid-soaked mesh of your valve. You gasp, optics blowing wide as he pushes them in, mindful of his sharp claws, stretching you wonderfully.

There’s a slight burn at first, pain sensors sending alerts, alleviated as your frame adjusts to accommodate his thick talons. Megatron eases his digits back until they are almost out completely, then sinks them back in. Your knees come up, peds shaking as you hook them behind his back struts.

“Patience, my dear,” Megatron kisses your neck cables, “Is a virtue.”

And like he had your anterior node, he works your valve slowly, steadily building the charge that buzzes all the pleasure centers in your frame. Warnings for an overload screen your vision again, this time your optics flicker as it grows closer. Staccato vents escape your intake, fans skipping cycles and hitching, encouraging Megatron to go faster, digits plunging in and out of your valve with sopping, moist noises. The room smells like interface; the tinny tang of transfluid, the almost-burnt smell of metal-on-metal friction.

You moan, this time a long keen that crackles in your audials, and Megatron responds with the first pleasured sound you’ve heard from him: A low, throaty groan that he practically strangles in his intake like he doesn’t want it to escape.

“M-My liege, plea-please.” You whine, writhing, bucking your hips even as Megatron’s servo relinquishes your wings in order to still them. You sob, systems on the fritz as the charge crackles, your overload closing in due to Megatron’s working servo and digits. He laughs again, the breathy one that you adore, and surprisingly heeds your plea.

“I want you like this when you take my spike.” Megatron hisses, doubling his pace and making you scream. The wet squelch of your mesh grows louder, and with each thrust of his servo, his knuckle joint brushes your throbbing anterior node, whiting out your optics.

“I want you disheveled.” The tyrant presses close to you, tightening the cyclic thrusts of his digits, biting at the base of your neck cables. Your helm lolls to the side, voice crackling in constant whines as you squeeze your optics shut. He growls, sharp denta piercing an Energon line close to your shoulder armor, the pain mixing with pleasure and having you singing.

“I want you desperate.” Megatron snarls like an Earthen beast, the gruffness of his voice matching the hot stretch of your valve. Transfluid soaks the inner seams and mechanisms of your thighs, spilling onto your berth below. Megatron drags his dermas to yours, his glossa hot and heady as he shoves it in your mouth and dominates the kiss. You moan against him, gripping him tight and hearing the sound of metal screech as its torn.

The silver mech groans, low and rough, breaking the kiss and allowing his helm to fall besides yours. To the cables and wires of your neck, he leaves open-mouth kisses, condensation hot from his vents, then pulls himself up to your audials and whispers harshly:

“I want you as mine.”

The last word is punctuated by a hard push of his digits and his thumb squashing your anterior node, and your overload hits you like a system crash. You wail, wings fluttering and hitting the berth with metallic clangs as your body seizes, the charge overtaking your processors. Pleasure like molten lava consumes your frame, transfluid squirting out onto Megatron’s forearm like paint.

The overload lasts eons, like some supernova of a dying star. Your legs lock, armor plating shivering, wings hitched high and scraping against your berth.  Maybe this is what death is, you think illogically, Maybe I’ve joined with the Allspark.

“Beautiful.” Megatron breathes again, his optics glowing in awe, “Positively beautiful.”

It takes a click for your processor to compute what he said, then another for your optics to blink back on. Coolant tears leak out the corners, blurring your vision. Your mouth gapes, dermas damp with condensation, your cooling fans whirring in loud in your audials. The grip you have on Megatron loosens, servos slipping until they fall upon his shoulders.

The charge in your valve mesh and anterior node quivers and bounces, and you realize with a pleasant tremble that Megatron’s digits are still firmly inside you.

“Megatron.” You coo his name, “Megatron.”

He says yours back, like all you’ve done and are doing is exchanging designations in a routine meeting and it reminds you of a time when things were simpler between the two of you. It’s been eons since Megatron’s seen you the way his ruby red optics gaze upon you now, eons more since you’ve felt seen.

War has made you both volatile, too tough and too angry to do anything else but fight, and fight some more. But here, in the privacy of your berth, blanketed by the secrecy of darkness: War can’t touch you. Nothing can.

“How I have yearned for you...” Megatron cups your faceplates, his servo cool against your overheated frame. You smile, still hazy from your overload and the lingering sensation of his other servo very much connected carnally to you, feeling like you’ve overdone yourself on too much high grade. 

A switch flips inside you, the one that reminds you’re no fainting femme, but one that asks and will take regardless. You are a Seeker, after all— It’s in your code to want offspring.

“Give me a sparkling, my Lord.” Even though your voice wavers, it still sounds like an immutable command. The contemplative look on Megatron’s face morphs into the devilish one, and he snarls, removing his digits from your core. A thin line of gooey transfluid stretches between you and his servo, until Megatron brings it to his mouth and his glossa licks along the length of his digits. His optics narrow in as he hums.

“You presume you can command me.” And yet he obeys again, his interface panel unlatching with a hiss. His spike emerges, a long, thick one that fills in sections, ribbed along its length. Glowing transfluid oozes in droplets from its tip, rolling down the underside of his spike. Your jaw drops, both in want and slight alarm— Megatron is a large mech, you should have better anticipated a large spike.

“Know this, dearest: I will take you, ruin you, fill you up until my code takes.” Megatron promises, lining his bobbing spike up with your throbbing valve. He then grabs your hips, propping them up for a better angle. You quiver, writhing on your berth and bracing your servos on his forearms. His armor is hot under your touch, and your claws dig into the smooth of his paint. Then you match his stare, licking your dermas.

“Frag me like you mean it.”

Megatron suddenly thrusts his spike into you and you wail, unforgiving of your smaller stature. The delicate mesh and sensitive wires give and mold around the hot rod of his pulsing length, forming a slick suction around your lover. He groans, easing back then thrusting in with earnest. Your thighs tremble as you take him, each rimmed circlet of his spike passing into you, dragging deliciously on your valve’s walls.

It’s a tight fight, even with being loosened by Megatron’s thick digits. The transformation seams on your hips and thighs stretch, soft whirs and clicks as your frame adjusts to take him. He’s the biggest you’ve ever had, and the strongest too. The power in his hips drives you up the berth, and he pulls you back down.

You can’t meet his thrusts, but you try and buck your hips in time with him, erratic at first. Megatron’s servos are locked on you, guiding you when your movements skip or miss. All the pleasure centers in your frame are alight, charges sparking and fritzing along your circuitry. Another overload builds, a hot, deep bubbling in your core.

With each thrust of his spike, your valve squelches, the mesh slick and hot with transfluid. More drips down your legs, your aft, onto the berth, leaving everything tacky. Megatron hits a particularly sensitive node deep inside you, one you didn’t even know was there, and you keen. Coolant tears prick at your vision again, escaping the corners and rolling off your faceplates. 

“How badly do you want it?” Megatron seethes, and you could mistake his lust for anger. He seizes your neck cables, dangerous talons threatening Energon lines, as he demands, “How badly do you want me?”

“Desperately.” You wheeze, optics whiting out as Megatron squeezes your neck cables just so as he gives you a series of particularly rough thrusts. Your peds tighten on his back, urging him deeper. Your Master vents, harsh and hot, his engine rumbling loud in his chassis.

“You will look...” Megatron chokes on a groan,”... Excellent with a trine at your hip.”

That makes you whine, Seeker coding squealing and preening at the thought. A trine. Three little sparklings just like their carrier. You’d delight in carrying them in your gestation chamber, wanting to see yourself change and swell to accommodate them.

“I want... I want,” Your voice cuts out, broken by a sob, and you can only manage a tight, “I want that!”

“Good.” Megatron pistons his hips like a jackhammer, his rhythm not breaking once. Powerful thrusts meet the wet heat of your core, the tops of his thigh armor clanking loudly against your legs. The overload warnings start appearing once again. Megatron hisses when your valve tightens around his length, and it prompts him to pick up the pace.

“You are so pretty.” He growls, leaning in to recapture your dermas with his. As he kisses, he doubles his speed and the strength behind it. You moan and sob into his mouth, servos gripping him by the back of the helm. His glossa battles with yours, his sharp denta nicking you more than once. Then he switches to kissing you deeply, soulfully, like he’s found salvation in your dermas.

It’s as you’re so viscerally connected to Megatron that the heat in your core reaches a boiling point, the slow-building electricity coming to its peak. Your valve walls spasm, the giving mesh convulsing in the telltale sign of your overload on the horizon.

Somehow accomplishing it, Megatron kisses you deeper, his faceplates flush and hot against yours. A particularly hard grind of his spike on the sensitive nodes of your valve has you gasping into the silver mech’s mouth. Your optics squeeze shut, you feel like your core is about to explode with heat—

Your second overload hits, just as spectacular and wonderful as the first. Electrified charges bounce between the mesh of your valve and Megatron’s throbbing spike, transfluid soaking him and yourself once again. It’s only after your audials tingle that you realize you’ve screamed loudly enough to reset them. Your systems crash, processors overheated and cooling fans hitching and trembling. With a hiss and a long grunt, Megatron follows you over the edge as well.

Warmth blooms in your core, pleasure nodes and receptors picking up the hot liquid feel of Megatron’s transfluid deep inside you. It comes out in spurts, and he rides his overload by continuing to push into you. As your optics come back online, you catch him hunching over you, ceasing his thrusts in favor of pressing as close as he can, spike still weeping transfluid and coating your inside walls.

Megatron hisses and groans, his frame shivering just once as he finishes, lazily bucking his hips thrice to empty himself completely. He doesn’t disengage his spike, leaving it to soften in your overworked valve. You can’t feel your peds, not after the overload you just experienced, and your entire frame shudders when he nips at your neck cables once again.

For a while, he hovers above you, his EM field embracing your frame. Softly, your servos caress his upper back struts, the tips of your digits dancing along his seams. His servos finally release your hips, revealing he’s left shallow dents in your armor. No matter, you’d wear them proudly. 

“Do you have fiber cloths in your refresher?” Megatron asks, breaking the comfortable silence, his vocal processor crackling only slightly. A twitch of the helm is the best “Yes” you can offer, and brutally Megatron parts from you, drawing a soft whimper as his spike and warmth leave you. The thought of sliding your interface panel back on crosses your mind, but your anterior node and valve are still throbbing so tenderly you can’t will yourself to do it.

You hadn’t realized you closed your optics until Megatron’s approaching pedsteps makes you open them again. He stands before your sprawled, ruined frame, a sheer fiber cloth in his servo, reaching to clean you. Silently, he wipes up the glowing transfluid that’s stained your berth, then moves to clean what’s left on your body.

For a long few moments, the sounds of your cooling fans cycling down, wings softly scraping on your berth, and Megatron’s movements fill your habsuite. At some point, you hear the distinct click of Megatron’s interface panel closing and you tilt your helm up to see him putting his spike away. Also distinctly, the slight burn of soreness as Megatron wipes your exposed valve of excess transfluid.

You’d need to wash regardless, but it’s the thought that counts.

“That was...” And you have no words. Your voice sounds distant and far away, like you’re listening to yourself whisper from miles away. Megatron hums to fill your silence, then you hear the muffled sound of the cloth being discarded somewhere in your room.

“May I join you for the night?” Your Lord’s question is far more polite than it needs to be, considering the circumstances, but it’s 

“Of course.” Your answer is quick and sure, marked by the tremendous effort you put in to roll onto your side, even though you still can’t quite feel your legs. You watch Megatron around your berth and sit at your side. He stretches, silver armor plates shifting and whirring back into place, the length of his back struts revealing his hidden Energon lines.

Then he swings his peds up and lays beside you like it’s the most normal action he’s ever done. Though you do have to scoot over until your wings stick out past the edge.

“I would like for this to be a repeated venture,” Megatron teases after he settles himself, “And if you will accept, for this to be continued past a successful newspark creation.”

He glances at you out the corner of his optic, its glow dimmed. You smile.

He’s never been one for grand romantic gestures, never one to speak about softer, kinder things like “love” or “sparkbonding”. It’s unbecoming of him, the Leader of the Decepticons, former gladiator of Kaon, dark Lord and powerful Master. You don’t know if he’d ever pose the actual question, or if it will remain as nebulous, vague riddles and coded phrases for you to decipher and analyze. It isn’t in Lord Megatron’s making to be tender— At least not in the explicit regards.

“I want nothing less for the sire of my offspring.” You reply, your frame curling around the curve of his chassis, servo finding the same spot it always had: Right above his insignia, above his spark. His engine rumbles evenly, the steady drumming could bring you to power down, though you’re kept awake by the pleasant ache between your legs, the chill of the Nemesis, and the pride in bearing your Lord an heir. 

~ * ~ * ~

epilogue

Your berth is too small, much too small, for two Cybertronians attempting to recharge upon it. Megatron keeps an arm wrapped under and around you to prevent you from falling off, your frame halfway atop his. One of your servos rests under your helm, the other lazily traces invisible shapes on his broad chassis. Both of your EM fields mingle, the waves pulsing to each other in rhythm.

Earthen hours have passed since your coupling, and though you’re tired, you find yourself unable to slip into recharge.

“My Lord?” You catch his attention, Megatron optics flickering back as he pulls himself from the onset of recharge. Part of you regrets keeping him awake— Primus only knows how many sleepless nights your leader subjects himself to— and the other part of you quietly marvels at how he was nearly dozing in your arms. What show of trust is as great as that?

“If I am to carry, this means the Decepticon cause loses one of its strongest warriors—” You sigh happily as the warlord shifts so that his servo rubs your wings, tenderly caressing sensitive transformation seams and Energon lines. What more you wanted to say dies on your glossa, too caught up in the tender display of affection your Lord gives you.

“A temporary hindrance.” Megatron rumbles, shuttering his optics once again and stating, “The Decepticons will prevail.”

It falls quiet, fully so for a handful of clicks until you pipe up again.

“... And, we will need protoforms. And transitionary metals and alloys. And start the process of distilling Energon into low-grade, sparkling-safe—”

Megatron silences you with a deep kiss, one that has you purring in delight and cupping his faceplates. He lingers on your dermas for a few beats, his EM field heavy and warm on yours, lulling you closer to recharge. Megatron parts, settling down on his back struts, his frame creaking and hissing air as he relaxes. Then he sighs:

“We will discuss technicalities in the morning.”

#transformers #transformers prime #tfp #tfp megatron #megatron #megatron x reader #megatron x you #megatron x femme #megatron x cybertronian reader #cybertronian reader #femme reader

[porkcracker]

Can you do a TFA decepticons (separate) falling for a kind and innocent autobot reader that believes they’re good deep down and tries to befriend them

Hello, yes, I'm a sucker for these bastards. For the sake of my sanity and limiting the wait time, I only took the Decepticons on earth (plus Shockwave, bc Shockwave is <3) and not all and every one of them. I do hope you enjoy this, and now let's get to it.

I actually started to answer this ask months ago, but never finished it, I truly hope this can still be enjoyable even being this immensely late.

TFA Decepticons x Autobot!GN!Reader

Soundwave

Soundwave is a very logical and goal orientated bot, it doesn't even really occur to him that he isn't good

After all, his goal in achieving robots and mechanical beings as the rulers not the workers is going to benefit all kind of mechanical life

So he really has no problem with you per se, but with the cause you align yourself

It's really a shame as well, you would be such a good ally

even if you don't end up becoming a Decepticon, as long as you don't hinder his plans too badly he can accept you as someone who will see reason when the time arrives

With your kind attitude, he knows you will get used to it, when the time arrives, and then you can maybe become even more than friends

A thing that he especially loves your sweet and caring behaviour towards his cassettes

He cares deeply for them, so to have you treat them so gently makes his feelings go wild

Blitzwing

Blitzwing is a rather loyal bot, so he doesn't like you insisting he's actually good deep down

Icy simply ignores your insistences and tries to correct you, even if he pulls his punches in a way he would never admit

Hothead on the other hand sees your kind behaviour as a personal insult

Are you saying he's not a real strong warrior, going so soft on him?

Not on his watch, he almost always insists on fighting you when the opportunity comes up

Random thinks your sweet personality is cute and aggravating at the same time

He wants you to keep going and at the same time to stop, he'll egg you on and in the same breath lean into your words giving you a bit of hope of getting through to him

It's a slow fall, but when he realises his three personalities go about winning you over differently

Icy cuts back on the physical fighting and engages you in verbal fights that are far more attempts to show you he can be what you think he could be

Hothead doesn't change too much, he's not one for too soft feelings and attempts to show you that he could protect your sweet nature easily

He does also love to give you words of affection, where Icy prefers gifts

Random loves to spend time with you no matter in what way, as long as you're close and having fun

Though his fun is relative, he does attempt to make it fun for both of you

Lugnut

Your chances of actually winning Lugnut over are very low

He is a warrior and not necessarily the smartest, but he is loyal as all hells come

There is a use in bots that have a talent with words that he can acknowledge

But there is already one bot whose words have pulled him into an orbit

He might develop some kind of crush on you, due to your kind side, but unless you change to the Decepticons he will most likely never act on it

But sometimes he likes to think of you, not as an Autobot, but a Decepticon like him and imagine what it could be like

Those times are very rare, however

Shockwave

Shockwave is at the same level of loyalty as Lugnut and there is very little that could make the Decepticon reconsider his opinion

He thinks it's rather cute how you attempt to convince him that he isn't actually that bad and good deep down

During his time as Longarm Prime, he had seen your kind behaviour directed towards many bots for various reasons

It's a no-brainer that he took advantage of that several times

But still, even as useless as your endeavour is, he can't deny that you're cute

Maybe, just maybe, he should get himself a little souvenir from Cybertron

Surely Megatron wouldn't mind his spy indulging himself with a cute little prisoner

He'll show you how wrong you are with your opinion, but don't worry, he'll give you a very long time to attempt to change his mind

Depending on how forceful you behave, you'll stay with the Decepticons for a very long while, or he'll set you free, because he grows too fond of you

Starscream

He will deny having any good in him vehemently

The moment you start to talk, he'll talk over you and don't you even think of speaking over him

That's actually the first thing he really notices

Sure, he knows you exist, but he only starts paying attention after he notices that you actually let him do his speeches and listen as well

It's surprising

He pays more attention, and he can't help, but be very pleased by the attention you give him, no matter if it is to convince him he's actually good or some bullshit

At first, he only uses you to stroke his own ego

But as time goes by he starts to really care for your validation

He'll search you out in fights and outside of fights

Megatron

Making sure your attention continues to stay on him at all times, no matter what

You don't stand out to him at first, and it is unlikely that he will notice you in a broader setting

But when it comes to a one on one meeting things change

You're so small in comparison to him, most Autobots are, and usually he doesn't care much for it beyond battle advantage

He brushes your words off at first

From his point of view, he is the good guy

But as you keep running into each other, he can't help but note that you seem far more innocent than even your fellow Autobots

You try to see the good in every thing and every one, and you help where you can

It's hard to imagine a bot like you being a product of an Autobot lead Cybertron

He is impressed that you have not yet consumed the propaganda every Autobot seems to believe and hopes that it will stay the case for longer

Once he notices that he is growing fond of you, he reverses your situations

Where you have tried to appeal to him before and bring out his good side, he now attempts to appeal to you and win you over to the Decepticons

You could be great together

#request #transformers #transformers animated #decepticons #tfa soundwave #tfa blitzwing #tfa lugnut #tfa shockwave #tfa starscream #tfa megatron #decepticon x reader #autobot reader #cybertronian reader #gender neutral reader #sfw

[sometimes-you-write]

[ Look at my DNI before interacting with my blog, please ]

[ Transformers Animated, cybertronian!reader ]

Reader: How's the most beautiful bot in the universe doing?

Optimus: *smiling* I don't know, how are you?

Reader: *voice glitching* I'm fine.

[Alternate ending]

Reader: How's the most beautiful bot in the universe doing?

Optimus: *smiling* I don't know, how ar-

Bumblebee, from across the room: I'm doing great, thanks.

#my posts #transformers #transformers animated #tfa #transformers x reader #transformers animated x reader #tfa x reader #cybertronian reader #cybertronian!reader #optimus prime #tfa optimus prime #optimus x reader #optimus prime x reader #tfa optimus prime x reader #bumblebee #tfa bumblebee #incorrect quotes

[rowiewritesstuff]

Is it possible for a tfp shockwave crushing on a cybertronian scientist reader? and he starts courting her without even knowing :)

TFP Shockwave X Cybertronian! Scientist! Reader

Okay what do you call the room where they eat? Because cafeteria sounds super goofy.

You were one of the most wanted on the Nemesis. You were kind, intelligent, and yet ruthless. You were one of Megatron’s most loyal followers- and yet you still called him out when you saw scrap come out of his mouth. You and Soundwave were probably the only ones allowed to do so. 

When Shockwave came aboard the Nemesis, you were excited. Finally, another scientist to help out! Knockout was okay, but he was better at breaking things than creating.

You introduced yourself to Shockwave as the head scientist of the Nemesis. He was first unsure how someone so bubbly could ever have the role of head-scientist for the Decepticons, but he realized the utter lack of general scientific intelligence on Earth. 

“I suppose I’m the second head scientist now, huh?” You grinned at him. 

Shockwave merely nodded at you, unsure how else to react to your general bubbliness.

Shockwave soon introduced you all to the Predaking, who you were in awe at. You praised Shockwave up and down for his creation. You assisted him meticulously with the rest of his work. He grew to see you as a partner in science- one that could actually keep up with him. Not many could do so. 

He didn’t realize what his feelings were for you at first. He’d never felt anything like this before. He thought that maybe he was sick, so he went to see Knockout- big mistake on his part.

“Oh?” Knockout had a shit eating grin on his faceplate. “I never thought someone like you could have a crush!”

Shockwave tilted his head. “Crush? Is that a disease?” 

A bark of laughter came from the red mech. “No. You have feelings for them.” Knockout patted the larger con’ on the shoulder. “Good luck, though- almost everyone has their eyes on them.”

Shockwave felt an uncharacteristic wave of irritation at the fact others wanted you. He went back to work, trying to ignore all of the feelings. ‘Illogical’ he thought to himself.

One day, he noticed you hadn’t refueled- so he brought you a cube. While he didn’t want to admit it, he adored the bright smile on your faceplates. 

A while later, he noticed that your favorite tool had broken- so he got you a newer, better version of it. You were so grateful that you hugged him. If he had a face, it would have been a bright blue.

One day, he was walking past the cafeteria. He looked in to see a Vehicon leaning over you. “Come on, just one date! I can be pretty romantic, ya’ know.” 

Shockwave was about to come over and pull you away when you abruptly stood up. “Sorry, I’m spoken for. I do appreciate the invitation, though!”

Everyone was shocked. Who had managed to snag you? Shockwave felt a pang in his spark that he couldn’t describe hearing you had someone. 

Your optics landed on him from across the room as an adorable grin plastered on your faceplates. “Speaking of my date! Come on, sweetspark!” You pulled the shocked mech away towards the lab. 

Everyone stood in shock, except for Knockout. “Finally! It’s like watching paint dry.” 

“Wh-when did we begin courting?” Shockwave stuttered- something he’s never done before.

“Uh, you brought me two gifts sweetie. Did you not mean it like that?” Your eyes looked up at him saddened.

“It was intentional.” He lied. “Come on, we have to finish the calculations we were working on.”

“Alright!” you cheered as you grabbed his servo in his. 

He didn’t know how this happened, but he hoped it would last.

#fluff #shockwave #probably ooc shockwave oops #shockwave x reader #shockwave x cybertronian reader #cybertronian reader #knockout #courting #silly shockwave #emotionallystuntedscientistman #tfp shockwave #transformers prime #transformers prime shockwave #tfp shockwave x reader #transformers prime shockwave x raeder #maccaddam

[random-fandom1984]

TFP! Bumblebee x SG! Cybertronian Reader

Requested by @alex21705

●It is midday, and you're patrolling somewhere in Louisiana, when a thunderstorm hit ●You called for a Groundbridge, and just as you passed through, a lightning bot struck the portal, and you didn't get to react in time as it pulled you in like a Black Hole ●When passing through, you expected to be in some sort of different Shadow Zone, but no; it was an alternate reality! ●To say you were confused was an understatement. Why are your colleagues suddenly so... nice? Why are their paint jobs different? Why was your closest friend so adorable?! What do you mean they didn't have another bot named C/n?! ●You weren't used to this nice, go-to happy atmosphere, especially Ratchet and Optimus NOT being psychopaths. But you weren't complaining. ●You were assigned to be Bumblebee's partner when going on patrols and missions, and you were confused.

-Optimus: I'm sure you're familiar with Bumblebee. Although he might not be like your world's version of him, I'm sure he will make you feel welcomed. -Bumblebee: *Beeps in confirmation* :) -C/n: ... Don't you mean Goldbug? -Bumblebee: *Beeps in confusion* ? -Optimus: No?

●So, the meeting was going great! ●As time passed by, you grew to like this place. Everything was peaceful when their world's version of Decepticons weren't trying to destroy shit. ●When you first arrived, you were aggressive, on guard like everyone and everything was going to attack you at any given moment. ●But the more you spent time here, you've cooled down a lot. You asked questions about topics like a toddler would, letting your interest be know that aren't about slaughter, murder, torturing; in fact, you started losing interest in those things! Spending time in this universe actually made you start seeing the brighter things in life. ●Not only that, but the more you started changing to a life a peace, you... started getting nightmares about what will happen when you return, and they see the changes. Most likely torture you without a second glance, possibly kill you for straying against the Autobot cause. But what will hurt most is what will Goldbug do when he sees the new you? You've known how he is with your world's Decepticons, basically a mini-Optimus in the making. ●But, of course, Bumblebee saw how nervous you were being, and confronted him about your behavior is when you let everything of your being fall apart, telling him that your scared. Scared of what will possibly happen when you return. It's not like you can stay in their world forever; you'd have to go back at some point. ●In response, he'd pull you into a hug, rubbing your back plates in a slow, gently manor, beeping in a tone that can be music. The first time he did this is when you felt your spark thump, and you just hugged him back, and the both of you fell into recharge, not once letting go are letting your grip become loose in the slightest.

-Raf: Bumblebee? Where are you? It's time for me to go- *Hears familiar beeping in the next room* Bee? Oh! *Looks in the room as see's Bumblebee hold C/n in his lap, arms wrapped around them as their arms are wrapped around his waist, both sleeping away* I'll just ask Ratchet. *Walks away*

●As time goes on, the pinning becomes so obvious majority of the team is just groaning in annoyance, they get that this is adorable but just get together already! ●Usually, whenever he gets upset over something, he would seek you out, and just wraps his arms around you because when he's with you, he doesn't want you to leave and holding onto you is his only security of that never happening. ●There was only one bot that he was jealous of, that's in his world, and it's Smokescreen. Ever since he's joined the team, he's been dropping pick-up line after pick-up line, and making your laugh! It should be him causing him to make you laugh, not him! ●The funny thing is that you like it when he seeks you out for comfort, causing you to quietly laugh at his adorableness. If Bumblebee finds out about this, he'll make sure to do that every single time he finds himself in the same room as you. 1 for Bee, 0 for Mr. Destiny Child. ●Often times, ever since Ratchet has gotten closer to find out a way to send you back home, Bumblebee has been trying to convince you to stay, and honestly... you've been considering it. ●I mean, on the one hand if you go back home, you'll see your team again! But on the other hand, ...you would probably get tortured for changing your ideals. ●And so, with a heavy spark, you decided to stay!

Meanwhile...

●Goldbug has been searching for you. You should've came through the Groundbridge and back to base. ●The others suspected that you were probably captured by the Decepticons, but they didn't bother. One less bot to waste Energon resources. ●But not Goldbug. He hasn't rest ever since you've disappeared. The bot he fell in love with just disappears? No. There's gotta be an explanation for this. ●Forcing SG! Raf to look through security cameras in the area you were in, he found out why. Stupid thunderstorm. But... at least this gives him a lead to find out where you went on his own. ●He will not rest until he finds you and returns you back.

Part 2?

#bumblebee x reader #cybertronian reader #transformers prime #transformers #tfp bumblebee x reader #shattered glass #crossover #alternate dimension #goldbug x reader #tfp x reader #tfp

[cybertronian-reader-imagines]

Hillowhillow may I make a request? How about relationship headcanons for MTMTE Megatron with a s/o who is taller than him? Many thanks and take your time!

((As a Tall Girl™ this speaks to me.))

Being Megatron's EVEN TALLER sparkmate would include...

- To say you intimidate people when they first meet you would be an understatement - after all, not only are you usually looking down at them, but your significant other is one of the most infamous (former) warlords to ever walk the face of Cybertron. Surely, you must also be tough as nails, right?

- You're actually a pretty nice, chill person once someone gets to know you - Megatron admires that about you. You don't let people's quick judgements stop you from being kind, something he is working on within himself. Your personable demeanor balances him.

- This inevitably means you end up being more liked than Megatron aboard the Lost Light... but the first time someone makes a comment about how such a jerk could have such a nice sparkmate, everyone present sees that you are just as capable as Megatron of putting your foot down and speaking your mind, regardless of what others think. If some bot isn't willing to let Megatron have his second chance, you two are not going to get along, period.

- But what ends up surprising people more than how soft YOU are is how soft Megatron can be around you. Primus, it's almost creepy how much his gaze softens when he looks at you. Who is this bot and what did you do to Megs?

- And that's just the public sappiness - half of the Lost Light would probably short circuit if they knew just how often you found love poems you found left on a datapad in your habsuite. 

- (Magnus apparently knows about this, because someone had to beta read the things, but of course he never lets it slip.)

- Megatron writes about you like the softest, most delicate thing.... even though you might be able to judo throw him over your shoulder at all. A few of the poems hint that probably into into that actually.

#megatron x reader #mtmte #lost light #mtmte x reader #cybertronian reader #gender neutral reader #maccadam #transformers #transformers x reader #merry christmas to everyone except people who hate redemption arcs

[veryconnoisseurcherryblossom]

Roddy's Sloppy Toppy

Wrote this as a sort of "apology" for voting Starscream instead of Rodimus in the Robot Husband Poll 2023 ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Still learning Transformers fandom terms and it shows lol

---------

"Mnnnf fuck sweetspark! You're, you're so good- fuck-"

Rodimus was a mess above you. Falling apart, even. Steam was coming off of him in droves. His vents were nearly overclocking with how hard they were working, trying to keep him from overheating. Cleanser fluid threatened to spill from his half lidded, dimmed optics. He had one servo on the desk, his grip denting the metal with the other on your helm, guiding you down his spike.

"Oh- oh Primus, oh sweet mother of- don't stop, please!"

You smiled, humming in satisfaction as your helm bobbed up and down, expertly taking his shaft down your intake pipe. You pushed his twitching leg away and your servo continued to pump into his drenched valve, your thumb languidly rubbing circles on his throbbing, blinking anterior node. 

You kept consistent optic contact with him, loving the way you were able to pull the young prime apart, the way you made the captain beg for release. He looked so gorgeous like this, coming undone from your touch.

"O-oh fuck, I'm- I'm about to-!"

Relaxing your intake as Rodimus shoved your helm down with a loud cry, you moaned as his transfluid poured down your intake pipe, his valve spasming around your digits as pink transfluid coated your servo.

After a moment, he relaxed into his chair, his vents turning back on. You pulled away from him, earning a twitch and crackling moan when you gave a final kiss on the head to his quickly depressurizing spike. Gently pulling your servos out, you licked them clean, sighing happily.

"F-fuck, that's hot…"

Rodimus breathed out, watching you maneuver your glossa to clean every last drop of his transfluid before he made a loud, keening whine as you lightly swiped your glossa over his plump valve, cleaning that too.

Giving his anterior node a soft kiss, you slowly stood up. Rodimus still looked fragged out of his mind, but he gave you a smirk before speaking.

“Your turn, sweetspark.”

#valveplug #Rodimus Prime/Reader #rodimus x reader #rodimusxreader #rodimus/reader #rodimus / reader #rodimus prime x reader #cybertronian reader #gn reader #Rodimus Prime #writing #fanfic

[zeonomicon]

I gotta ask: I've been craving G1 Soundeave having his buttons played with, either SFW or NSFW, I just *shakes fist* I need them to be pressed. Soundwave my beloved <333

Wonderful ask, I see you are a fellow person of culture. Shout out to Soundwave, gotta be one of my favourite stim toys.

Since the pairing wasn't specified, I went with a Cybertronian reader.

Answer under the cut, mostly SFW but suggestive.

G1 Soundwave x Cybertronian!Reader

It was nice to have moments like this with just the two of you, when Soundwave had a chance to take a break from his multifarious duties keeping the ship running and neither of you were being roped into the latest of Megatron's grand plans to take down the Autobots once and for all. You were reclined on the berth with the TIC in your lap, playing some pre-war song he'd kept in his databanks while you caught up on a holonovel you'd become engrossed in. You hadn't been paying much attention to the lyrics, captivated by the story unfolding in your datapad, but as a few lines caught your attention you decided to play it back to hear the last verse again. You snaked your arm around Soundwave's waist, feeling for the raised surfaces of his buttons, and Soundwave stiffened a bit; you supposed in surprise. You pressed his stop button, then your digits found the narrow-angled edge of his rewind button and you held it down for a few seconds before pressing play. Each button lit up energon magenta when you pressed it. Soundwave's buttons were quite satisfying to press, offering a little resistance and making a pleasing click once activated.

Soundwave's servo had gripped your knee while you fiddled with his buttons, but now he laid himself against you with his backstrut to your chassis and his helm on your shoulder, leaving not much room for you to pick up your datapad and read again. You didn't mind, content to enjoy your lover's music for a little while. You moved your servo, intending to set your datapad aside, but he placed his own servo over it quickly. Curious. Experimentally, you stroked his play button with one digit, feeling the texture of the raised symbol, and then slowly applied pressure, holding it just before its active position. Soundwave's cooling fans clicked on.

Emboldened, you held down the rewind and fast forward buttons at the same time, causing the music to stutter and skip before smoothing back out as Soundwave corrected the contradicting inputs internally. He pushed up into your touch keenly. You pressed all of his buttons at once, then alternated quickly switching between each of them in random order, deriving equal gratification from the sheer fun of playing with him as from the way Soundwave arched and shifted in your hold, vents growing shallow.

You pressed the record button and moved in close to him, winding your arms about his chassis and running your digits up the smooth glass. Soundwave let out a whine filled with static when your digits left his buttons, but then you found the eject button on his shoulder and his visor brightened in anticipation. You splayed your servo over his chest compartment and pushed, the spring mechanism attempting to propel the tape deck open only to be met with resistance. He pressed himself even more firmly back against you to give it room to open, but you pushed it shut with a click, holding the button down. Soundwave's visor flickered. "Release it."

"Or what?" You massaged his compartment, pushing hard with your thumb just above his lower hinge to keep it closed, your digits stretching to mess with the buttons on his abdomen again, playing back Soundwave's melodious sighs and the hum of cooling fans.

"Or Soundwave: Will press your buttons."

#Zeo Writes #Requests #Anon Ask #One Shot #Soundwave x Reader #Cybertronian Reader #Reader Insert #Suggestive #Kibbleplay #Ish #Soundwave #Transformers G1 #G1 Soundwave #Transformers #Don't worry Soundwave is using a special Cybertronian tape that doesn't erase when you record over it #I actually have a whole plethora of headcanons for how Soundwave's buttons work

[stickytrigger69]

Can I ask for idw Optimus finding out that before the war, his Connie (male pronouns if possible) was a… exotic dancer? And ah, much more?

IDW Optimus x Con Reader

Reader is a mech

Readers' frame type, height, paint job, etc, are vague

NSFW minors DNI!

A/N: I've been struggling 😭 I've recently moved states, and it's been interesting to adjust, to say the least. But I should be getting back to it soon. I luv you all, and I really appreciate everyone's patience 😘😘😘

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

He came home angry, and you wondered if it was Prowl again or if someone had stirred up trouble or if he was harassed for conjunxing an ex-decepticon again. Unfortunately, it was none of those things because as soon as the words, 'what's wrong?', came from your vocalizer he glared at you. Suddenly, larger than normal, he stared you down with such fire in his optics it made you want to hide.

"Don't you talk to me, understand. I don't want to hear a peep from you." He pointed accusationally at you before stomping to your shared room. "I need time to think, leave me alone." And that was that. You spent the remainder of the afternoon on the couch, still thinking about what you could have done to make him this angry. Admittedly, he scared you. Past memory has protected you before, and you were ready for it to do so again.

When the time came, you got up to make dinner for you and your lover. You placed his serving on the floor, knocked, then turned around and left back to the living room. If he wants his space fine, but you don't want him to starve, so you listen in, and only when you hear the door open and shut, do you start eating your portion. When you've finished, you set your dishes down and sit there. Sadness had begun to fill your chassis with every bite, guilt settled deep within your tanks.

Thoughts race endlessly through your processor while you sit there in deafening silence. The whoosh of the door opening actually startles you, but you make no effort to look at him. The sink runs, and his dishes clink and clang together before he turns it off. "Why didn't you tell me?" You're caught off gaurd, confused. "Why? Was it because you were scared or disgusted? Why didn't you tell me that you were... that you used to..." He trails off and slowly comes into the living room and looks down at you. "Do you have any clue what I'm talking about?" He pleads with his optics that you will say yes.

"I... I do. I know what you're talking about. And I'm sorry I never said anything." You make room for him and pat the empty seat, wanting him to sit. "I was an exotic dancer at first. It was harmless, I was paid handsomely to dance for grimy mechs and femmes alike from the safety of an impenetrable case, and believe me, many had tried to bust through." He just listens and looks at your face contort with emotion. "Just dancing, they told me, just dance for them, and that's all. You can live your dreams if you just wiggle your aft. I was smaller then; shorter and less clunky." You look down at the added armor. It's made you look more rough around the edges, and it comforts you, "I was also young and naive, and they told me they would protect me, that I could make so much more. Then I started letting them in. They could touch, feel, and taste what they couldn't before. I still danced, but afterward, I would handle them in the back. Or they would handle me, y'know?" You chuckle awkwardly.

"I might take this armor off, show you what my Primus given frame looks like. Megatron had Shockwave fit me this armor, I was uh, distracting the other 'Cons, starting trouble. He understood it wasn't on purpose. Every so often, it would get tight, and I'd have to upgrade, bigger, stronger, better. I think I can..." You tail off and try pulling at your wrist seams until you hear a small pop and hiss. "There it is." You pull it apart, and the seam stretches upwards along the side of your servo like a casing. A smaller servo on the inside, and you smile at the sight of your own servo. "Will you..?" You hold your arm out to him, and he takes it gently. After hours of work, he is finally able to pop the last case around your left tribulen open. Shockwave really didn't want it falling off. Some seams had to be heated and nearly melted to get the welds off.

"I feel so much lighter," you stretch yourself out, "I'll bet I'm faster now, too."

"All of its been a lie?" He asks solemnly, digits trace up and down your arm. Your real arm, he reminds himself.

"No. I never lied. I just..." He is curious, and thus, he pushes you onto the couch. His servos are now even larger, nearly engulfing your waist in just one. His digits start prodding. He loves you so much, thinks you are the most attractive mech he's ever seen, but he didn't know you could become even more attractive and it does something inside of him. No longer angry or betrayed, he feels invigorated instead, wanting to explore the real you and you can tell, teasing his arousal through his field.

"Is your spike still the same size, my dear? I'd like to find out." He stares deeply into your optics as your breath hitches. Your own arousal blooming underneath your panels.

"I was uh, going to tell you, but unff- I ahhh." You grunt and moan with every thrust, now in your berth, lover behind you on his knees.

"Just shut up and take it like a good little mech." Optimus holds your helm up with one servo to speak in your audial. His harsh tone makes you whimper and valve squeeze around him. He then holds your helm down by the back of your neck while the other servo holds your hip tightly. He's so much bigger than you that he easily engulfs your frame with his own, and it thrills you to no end. That, and the rough treatment, do wonders for you. It makes your processor swirl and frame activate every sensory input processor available to overwhelm and stimulate you. Oh, the power of his hips, the grip of his servos, and open vocalizer are enough to make you overload straight into hard reset.

"I had always wondered why, why, after every time we interfaced, you were still so tight? Such a small mech, small valve, should be stretched by my spike." You moan. "I also wondered why or how you had so much stamina. How you were so good at sucking spike. If you were just a natural or if you had practice with past lovers." He slams into you at a fast pace, smirking when you yelp. "But they weren't lovers, were they? No, they were consumers. Investors. Keeping you clean and healthy so they could use you up. As much as I don't like that thought, I can't change it, the past at least. Now, now no one will look at you like that anymore. Only me, no one can have you the way I can, the way I do." Possessiveness takes over him for a moment, and he flips you onto your back. He stares deeply into your optics while inching his spike into your tight, wet valve, and your spike bobs and dribbles prefluid onto your abdomen.

When your frames connect, his optics begin to roam down to your derma and then even further down. "Tell me, sweetspark, how did you get this mod? How much was it? How many 'clients' did you have to take for it, or did one of them gift you with the mod? Did they lavish you with oils and treats? Or were you just a back alley buy mech who got lucky?" He asks crudely while his thumb rubs your anterior node in circles.

"Optimus." You bashfully turn your helm to the side to look away from him. His words are harsh but very much near the truth, and that's what's embarrassing you so.

"Don't you look away from me." He grabs your face and forces you to look at him. "I'm sorry, it got to my head." He leans down and kisses you lovingly, still pumping in and out of you. "There's just something about how dirty you were. So forbidden and delicious." He pulls out suddenly. In one swift motion, he lifts you up and lays down, placing you on top of him. "Show me, do for me what you did for them." He rubs his servos up and down your sides softly. You stare down at him, venting heavily.

"I need access to your valve if that's what you want." He hums curiously but complies, a low 'shhk' sound alerts you of his exposed valve. He waits patiently and watches you slink down. "I'm going to have to dance for you some other time too." You smirk before rubbing your valve against his. Anterior nodes bumping against each other while you take his spike in your servo. Your slick coats his valve opening heavily, making him groan at the feeling your fluids mixing.

"That's nice darling, but..." He goes quiet. His node, it feels. "What is happening?" You chuckle and lean over him, spike still in your servo, but your other travels down between you both.

"Oh my love, there are bits and pieces of me that I've been wanting to share with you." Two of your digits push into his valve. When you pull them out, you put them into yourself to gather more of your own lubricant and push them back into him. "I've also wondered how you would react to this feeling." The feeling on his node travels deep into him. It spreads like wildfire up inside him. It's like a cold wave that makes his servos ball up into fists.

"Not only did certain mechs and femmes get to have me completely, I danced for them. I showed myself off in a glass case. Taunted them with what they couldn't have." You curl your digits inside him and brush against his interior node, making him shiver. And, as if it were a system error, a few seconds after you touched his node, a small burst of electricity pulses from his node in small waves, making him cry out. And without warning, you thrust your spike into his valve and start stroking his roughly.

You pound into his sensitive valve and stroke his spike simultaneously to make him a moaning mess beneath you. "It's not too much, is it my love?" You ask sweetly and he shakes his head.

"More!" He cries, bucking his hips. With a smirk, you thrust harder. Sacrificing speed for force knowing that the effects will last longer and be stronger. He has melted, gone completely limp beneath you. His optics flicker and his field is charged to the brim. You swear you can taste it, the thick nectar of his lust dripping from his core. Suddenly, he takes hold of your shoulders and sits up. He has you confused for a few moments until he starts riding you. Now, on his knees, he bounces in your lap.

You feel your faceplate heat up even more, his actions flattering you, but what makes this moment even sweeter is the way he's looking at you. No one has looked at you this way. You know it's different from the usual looks youd get, but you're not so sure what's different about it.

"Optimus, I still have trouble believing you're actually serious about this relationship of yours. Even after you've learned everything about him and his past. I mean, it was bad enough that he's an ex decepticon, but it's another that he's..." Suddenly, a large servo can be seen over the red and blue mechs shoulder.

"Don't you finish that sentence. I know you don't 'approve' of it, Prowl. But he's my conjunx, and that was his past, not his present, nor his future. And I do believe it has shaped him," Prowl makes a suggestive motion with his servos as Optimus 'monologues' as he likes calling it, "into the mech he is today." Optimus turns around to face the shorter officer who just stares at him.

"Not only personality wise, I'm sure." Prowl rolls his optics. The comment leaves a sour taste in the primes mouth. "But you're right, he's your conjunx, it's really none of my business. I suppose it's just the fact that it's not very professional. For a mech of your status, I'd expect a high-grade conjunx. You've had many suitors, and all of which at least knew what fine arts are. Besides, he's just a trophy wife, as the humans would say." Optimus chuckles and shakes his head. Oh, how wrong is Prowl's statement. You are very intelligent and creative, and you're more than just some trophy wife.

#transformers #tf #transformers idw #idw tf #transformers optimus #idw optimus prime #tf optimus prime #optimus prime #maccadam #macaddam #macadam #cybertronian reader #cybertonian reader #cybertronian male reader #male reader #male reader insert #male reader x male character #male reader x optimus prime #optimus prime x reader #optimus prime x you #optimus prime x male reader #sticky interfacing

[i-starcreamed]

Hi hi friend I have a request for you :)

can you do a bumblebee x reader where the reader was like his partner back on cybertron and they like bumblebee thinks their dead until like their pod shows up on earth

can be any pronouns please and thank you

idk if this is in character and perhaps this is mostly angst but...partners reuniting. i hope this is what u meant!!

TFP Bumblebee x Cybertronian!Reader

The Groundbridge swirled with a green color as it opened in a deserted area. The bot's surroundings were covered by trees and Earth's greenery, despite being beautiful it was not the type of terrain that was easy to travel in. Ratchet had caught a new energon signal on their scanner, it was no deception signal or raw energon, but it was rather a sign of another cybertronian.

It was a mystery as to why they landed now if most of them had landed years ago, but the entire team went to investigate the mystery pod nonetheless.

There buried in the ground, was the escape pod. Optimus Prime was in front as the team had his back, all held their blasters and aimed it at the pod in case danger was near. As they neared, they could almost let out a sigh of relief to see that it wasn't a deception pod, but they still didn't know who exactly was inside. The team slowly dropped their blasters as they neared the pod.

"Who could it be?" Arcee crossed her arms as she tried peering inside the fogged-up glass. Optimus still held his blaster as Bulkhead neared the pod, using his strength to open the latch.

"I am not sure yet, Arcee. But everyone, stay alert." He took a step closer to the pod, and everyone cautiously followed suit. The latch was lifted off it's hinges to reveal a [color] bot, a couple scratches, and dents littered their frame as they lay unconscious. While the rest of the team wasn't phased, Bumblebee nearly malfunctioned right on the spot. It couldn't be...could it? He thought it was impossible, that he would never see you again. The last time he saw you, your hideout on Cybertron was raided by Decepticons and you had stayed behind. The amount of guilt that troubled him even on Earth was unbearable, he thought you had offlined. He thought he had lost you.

"Bumblebee?"

Optimus' voice snapped him out of his thoughts, he didn't realize he was still staring at you as his servos slightly shook. Optimus looked at him expectedly with a concerned look across his faceplates. He faced the Autobot leader and responded with a series of beeps.

"I know them! They're Y/N, m-my partner. I thought they were dead, I thought I got them killed, I thought-" Bleeps and beeps came out jumbled and were barely discernible by even those who understood him. His servos gestures all around before he looked at you again. He tried to reach for your body before Optimus placed a firm servo on his shoulder.

"We should get them to base first, Bumblebee. It is not safe out here for them, the two of you will have your chance to talk once Ratchet tends to them." He sent him a hint of a sympathetic look, he knew how much Bee wanted to hold you and speak to you again right now, but Decepticons could be near. In the end, Bumblebee nodded and carefully took your body from the pod, carrying you all the way back.

Bumblebee fussed about you all while Ratchet took care of your minor injuries and as you were waking up. In a room full of bots you didn't recognize, a bright yellow mech caught your optics as soon as you onlined. Even you couldn't believe it, your optics locked and you swore you felt so young again, if only just for a split second. Suddenly you were staring at the same Bumblebee you thought you lost, the one who you thought you would never see again. Also the same bot who you had fallen in love with when everything was okay on Cybertron. You were both different now, having plenty of experience in a war that was ongoing and uncompromising. That seemed to not matter as you both embraced each other, your grip tight as you wrapped your arms around him. You expected to hear his voice greeting you, but instead, bleeps and fragments of cybertronian came out of his vocalizer.

"Oh, Bee..what happened?" You gently asked as you still held onto him, it still felt impossible for you to be reunited with him again, and yet he felt the same way. He shook his helm and held your servos in his.

"You have no idea how much I've missed you, Y/N." The beeps whined as he gazed at you with his bright blue optics. Despite all the years he'd gone without you, you were the only bot that he held dear to his spark. It would be a tough adjustment, getting used to Earth and having to know about the still ongoing war; but being with Bee would make it better. A lot better.

#tfp #tfp x reader #tfp bumblebee x reader #bumblebee x reader #transformers prime #transformers prime x reader #maccadam #cybertronian reader x transformers #cybertronian reader #headcanon

[image-thot]

All For What? Pt.1 - ES Shockwave x Cybertronian Reader

So this was technically only going to be a one-part thing but now... Well, now it's two. Anyway finally got some more mean Es Shockwave out here, I hope you all enjoy part 1 :D Summary: Onlining next to Shockwave is one of the most fighting things to happen to you until Shockwave reveals that he hasn't entirely moved on. Still thinking the Terrans are abominations and still despising Autobots. Thankfully he does admit that the answer to the war is new cybertronians, obviously only created from him. Notes: Reader is written gender neutral Warnings: None For this part however that changes in part 2

Word Count: 796

Your processor was cloudy as you came to, barely remembering what had happened before Mandriod had drained your energon.

You remembered helping the Terrans escape Ghost, trying to stop Shockwave from killing them and subsequently helping free him from the mind control chip. Then Ghost soldiers… no… droids… had attacked. Fighting erupted and then everything went dark.

You had felt cold and a sense of impending doom spread over your frame.

Then a bright light engulfed your processors, and warmth spread through your frame as your systems returned online.

"I'm… I'm alive." Your venting is shaking as your optics scan the farm, taking in the damage from the battle and the noticeable lack of your Terrans and the humans.

When you spot Shockwave you visually flinch. Not seeming to notice you, he watched curiously as Fluffy Ears licked at his astromag cannon. You were ready to defend her if Shockwave made a move to hurt the small calf. Attempting to stand, you are overwhelmed by the vertigo your systems face. You almost crash back to the ground, your servos catching you before you fully come tumbling down.

"The aftermath of any form of stasis isn't pleasant is it?" Shockwave's snide voice snaps your optics up, looking over at him once again.

He's staring at you, antenna pulled slightly back as his optic glows in what you assume is amusement. Slowly pushing yourself to your knees you glare at him.

"You could have warned me.." Huffing out as your optics leave him to scan the nearby debris. "The children… are they...?"

Your voice trails off as you look, you don't spot them nor any remnants of them. Shockwaves scoff brings your attention back to him, watching as he shoos Fluffy Ears away before shakily standing to his peds.

"Dead? No, those abominations live to fight another day it would seem." His words fill you with both relief and anger. The Terrans were alive somewhere and they were hopefully safe. Your anger rose from Shockwave's bigotry. Even after they had helped him he still views them in such low regard.

Watching as he moves towards the barn you growl, digits digging into the dirt you slowly push yourself up and stand on shaky peds. Giving yourself several moments before slowly following after the mad Con.

"Why do you deem them abominations when they are far from it?! Because you didn't create them and therefore you deem them so?!" Shouting as you attempt to follow him down, your pace much slower but not quieting your voice. "No! They are our future! They are-"

As you round the corner into the dugout your chassis collides with Shockwaves astromag cannon. Optics narrowing, you quieten yourself. Listening to the humming of his weapon as he stares you down, antenna twitching as he seems to decide on what to do with you. 

"Our Future?" The words are said with venom and the pressure on your chassis grows firmer pushing you back until you hit a wall. You grunt in discomfort and your servos shoot up to stop its advance less it pierces through to your spark.

"Earth’s perhaps, but not mine… Not Cybertron’s. No. Our Future won't be decided by a new species, one not even created by Cybertronians." Shoving your servos off his cannon as he moves it across your neck, his helm tilting to the side makes him seem amused but the tone in his words are anything but.

"They were created by the Emberstone. It makes them as Cybertronian as either of us." Choking back a pained cry as he pushes harder into your neck cabling, his other servo digs into your abdominal plating helm moving closer to yours as you fight back any signs of weakness.

"Stupid Autobot. The ember stone aided in their creation with the help of those flesh bags. Nothing more than failed experiments" He's playing with you now, perhaps his processor has finally succumbed to the damage taken over the years. 

Perhaps he really is just mad.

"You’d know all about failed experiments, so many Cybertronians that you’ve twisted into monsters." Your words spat out as you try and twist in his grasp, servos dropping to his trying to pull it off your abdominal plating.

“You’ve never created a real new life.”

Only drawing more pain from your abdomen as you struggle against the larger mechs hold. This was how you're gonna die, after the war ended to a Decepticon still living in the past.

“Of course, an Autobot would think that.” Scoffing as he softens his hold on your neck cabling, his helm drawing back from you as he studies you.

"Perhaps it's time for a new creation.." 

The words confuse you, has he actually changed his mind? No… that would be too simple.

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