ℂℍ. 𝕀𝕀𝕀 — 𝕀𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔻𝕖𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕥
𝐂𝐇. 𝐈𝐈𝐈 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄
[𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓽'𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽]
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summary 🗡
⤏ cade yeager’s older sister never knows what she’ll find in their barn upon returning from her routine antiquing trips—the submission box at the driveway is often littered with junk of all kinds that they try to fix for a living.
⤏ you just never would have expected for him to take on the task of repairing a cybertronian.
pairing 🗡 bayverse!optimus prime/yeager!reader
word count 🗡 2.8k
a/n 🗡
⤏ this is a wrap for the semi-completed chapters for this abandoned fic - I hope you enjoy!
⤏ also, please let me know in the comments: would y'all like an additional chapter containing all the snippets in chronological order of when they would have been placed? I'm not going to stress myself out about finishing them, but I'm willing to share them if y'all would be interested. :)
🗡 MASTERPOST 🗡
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Hours after the humans had settled down and the fire began to cool, Optimus found that he still couldn’t find it in himself to recharge. He was too tense after having seen for himself just what Cemetery Wind did to his Autobots. They’d lost their lives for no reason.
They will pay. All of them. That much, he was certain.
So focused was he, optics trained on the horizon for any sign of activity and audials tuned to almost the highest sensitivity, that when he heard the slightest shift of fabric behind him his armor flared defensively and his helm snapped around on reflex.
It took several seconds for him to recognize that you had flipped over onto your other side, facing him but not looking at him. Instead, your eyes were glassy and distant, your face layered with a thin sheen of sweat. He heard the subtle quiver in your breaths filling your lungs and leaving your lips.
He remained still and silent as you sat up slowly and rubbed your face, seeming to shake yourself out of whatever trance you’d been trapped in. He could only describe the look on your face as haunted.
“Are you all right?”
You jumped minutely and he bit his glossa when he realized he’d spoken aloud.
“My apologies,” he rumbled softly, being mindful of your slumbering kinsmen. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
You blinked up at him, still looking a bit sleepy, but you sighed quietly and stood, stepping carefully away from the other humans and pausing by the fire. You pursed your lips and grabbed a few branches of brush that was lying nearby, tossing them into its smoldering depths and stirring it back to life with a long stick nearby. The flames crackled with new vitality, soaking the surrounding area with a warm orange glow. You glanced towards the others, then made your way over to him.
“Trouble sleeping?” you asked, settling near him but still close enough to the fire’s reach that you wouldn’t be caught by the desert night’s chill.
“Remaining on guard,” he said, lifting his optics back up to the horizon. He spied a couple of coyotes near a rock formation far, far away, probably clinging to the shadows on the hunt for less fortunate prey. Nearer the thick line of brush that lined the clearing they’d settled in for the night, he could see a rabbit nibbling on what little greenery had survived the harsh heat and sun the desert provided. “We’re in an open area. It would be easy to find us.”
“We’ve got the cover of night and these mesas,” you told him, somewhat assuringly. “I’m sure we’ll be okay for tonight.” You paused, then he felt your tiny (so tiny) palm touch the back of his comparatively massive servo. “Have you slept at all?”
“I don’t need to, presently,” he told you. “Cybertronians don’t need to recharge as frequently as humans do.”
“But you’re tired.”
Your observation caused him to tear his optics away from his surroundings and refocus on you. You were peering up at him, brows furrowed and eyes troubled. You looked concerned.
“I am,” he admitted, not seeing any reason to deny it.
You studied him a long moment, and he felt your fingers twitch over the cool metal plating covering the sensitive cabling and wires of his servo.
“I had another nightmare,” you said quietly, dropping your gaze to your hand. You traced along the edge of the plate, seeming to take note of the lack of scratches.
“I am sorry,” he responded sincerely.
“It’s okay,” you said, slumping against his wrist and resting your head there. “It happens. I don’t think I’ll get over them for a long time yet.” You drummed your fingertips against his servo and sighed. “But it wasn’t the usual. I dreamed I lost Cade, and Tessa.” You hesitated, then added more softly, “You.”
He blinked slowly, taken aback by the somberness in your voice. “You needn’t worry,” he assured you. “I will defend your family with my life.”
“That’s what I’m worried about.”
His optical ridges rose faintly.
“Cemetery Wind’s dangerous. They don’t have a conscience,” you continued. “They wouldn’t hesitate to kill you on the spot, especially if you’re trying to protect us.”
“I am fully capable of defending myself, Miss Yeager,” he reminded you.
“But you got hurt last time,” you whispered. Your fingers tightened over the edge of the plating.
“Assuming a new altmode repaired what few injuries I acquired,” he reassured you gently. “I am all right.”
You sighed. “But they could hurt you again.”
He ex-vented and shifted back enough that you looked up to him. “That will always be a possibility. I am a warrior.” He paused. “But...I will try my best to stay out of harm’s way.”
This seemed to put you at ease, no matter how little.
Read the rest of the chapter here! :)
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