[Read pinned first I'm begging you] Adult 🔞 I WRITE DARK FIC DNI if you can not respect that. I work full time but I'm haunted by fictional character love, I dump self ship/ character x reader type stuff here. Multi fandom but in my robot Fucker phase currently [Transformers]. if you see spelling mistakes in my work no the fuck you don't I'm tired and doing this for free. Minors gtfo of here I'm writing smut.
HI HELLO I bit the bullet and decided to make a self ship/ X Reader blog.
You can call me Rabot! I'm HE/HIM queer. I'm an adult, FYI! I'm from the internet age when giving your info out is bad, so I'll be vague outta habit, but I am an adult. Minors DNI, please. I'll be posting smut occasionally. Also, DNI if you can't handle Dark content (noncon, yandere, other mature/problematic written topics). I write them.
This is a sideblog for me, so if you follow me as another imagine blog, we might be mutuals you just can't see it <3 also I have the social skills of stray ant after covid lockdown so please be aware I'm a bit fucking strange and unusual. It's not usually done maliciously. Please be patient with me to a degree I'm sorry I was born stupid.
1] so I have a place to reblog others x reader content
2] so I can post the little bit of x reader stuff I write for myself.
My blogs specifically for scenarios/Headcanons of the short. The type with bullet points and such from fictional characters. Or the longer run ons, it all depends on how I feel.
I write for Gender neutral Readers and Masc or Male readers! I'll do Fem or girl stuff only when I think a character would specifically act differently in that regard compared to a masc or male reader and It's also done when I want to.
I Sorta do requests! I'm mostly just planning on writing for myself, so to speak. You're more than welcome to send ideas or ramblings about characters in my inbox, but I don't wanna promise I'd be able to fill in any requests. If an idea or thing interests me, I might make a drabble or hcs in response to your ask.
If I don't respond to an ask, it either doesn't strike any inspiration in me, or I'm just saving it for later. (Or I deadass do not know what to say and deleted it.). I'm here for fun and a good time this isn't gonna be a job for me especially when I don't get paid to do it.
• Transformers! <- my thing rn! I'm newer! I watched TFONE and got weird about robots. Talk to me about the G1 cartoon all three seasons, TFO, Beastwars. And Prime
• ONE PIECE <- I like pirates. I tend to get obsessed with one piece in small bursts that come and go. I'm currently up to date on the manga.
Any other fandoms I may write for are more spontaneous things. Since I do not control the inspo and I have no clue what my brain will choose next. You can still talk to me about those fandoms/characters too!
❌Any type of Mess play is a hard no for me (Vomit, Watersports, Scat.)
❌Knife or blade play is a no.
❌Also absolutely no forced pregnancy please thanks. (I don't mind noncon by itself or even preg talk/content just don't mix the two please)
❌ No Forcefem.
❌ I do not consent to AI of my works or my works being trained for AI.
I block people liberally who post in the general "x reader" tag and don't tag properly or warn for she/her and assumed women reader. I'm tired and just not dealing with it at this point. TAG YOUR SHIT CORRECTLY PEOPLE! Do not tag it as "x gn reader" When the character calls reader "pretty girl" be serious right now.
#Rabot writes (My stuff)
#Rabot Requests (Asks I've written for)
#Hop skip (Me yapping about things)
#🥀(Angst)
#🔞 (smut/nsft)
#💛(Platonic)
#💌(Purely Romantic)
#🩹(Comfort)
#🩶 (Yandere) I only really like what's considered "light" Yandere, I like obsessive vibes but don't typically enjoy like the whole "hurting you or your loved ones" type of stuff.
My ao3 is here! where I cross post my stuff in case Tumblr just gets unplugged one day
Previously I wasn’t too big on Ironhide but everything you’ve posted has me SCREECHING the idea of being his one soft spot, constantly joking and teasing this gruff mech just enough until he totally snaps and pins me down ajdfajsgahdj PLEASE
Been thinking about him and Chromia these past few days like AT THE SAME TIME imagine being a fellow high command member with Ironhide for the whole war falling for him and then later realizing he and Chromia have fallen for eachother and THINKING it’s unrequited but it’s really, really not, and then falling for Chromia as well she’s so 🤩🥰
Funnily enough it actually wasn't exactly planned on my end either. I did like Ironhide before but once I started writing older flirty Reader it just sorta happened on it's own lolololol. But here tried to make it fit G1 canon and my own flirty Reader spice.
"Go for it!" GN BOT Reader x Ironhide and Chromia [G1]
⦉Summary ❥ ⦊ Meeting Ironhides courted and settling to dismiss a small crush. While Chromia gets on Ironhides aft for not confessing yet.
⦉Genre/theme 𖥔 ⦊ Romantic yearning/Misunderstandings, It also gets a bit horny at the end
⦉Warnings ✘➥ ⦊ Perceived unrequited feelings (Reader doesn't let 'em get them down though, Ironhide and Chromia squabble a bit
⦉Pronouns ★ ⦊ You, Your, Yours, Them, They
⦉Notes ✚ ⦊ Older Flirty Reader, Reader admits to having a little bit of a crush on Ironhide in their own thoughts, gets a little horny at the end when Chromia says "-inbetween the two of us." To Ironhide.
Y’know getting accidentally booted to cybertron wasn't in any of your guys plans. But whatever- you kicked Shockwave's aft down a ledge and you'd gotten to socialize with the other Autobots. Some you knew personally, others you didn't. One who you didn't know was Chromia.
Before you even knew who she was, you all watched her yank Ironhide into a kiss on the derma. It was the more- intimate kind of kiss.
And you all stood there in sudden stunned silence as she pulled away and introduced herself and said she was courting Ironhide.
Which… was certainly something.
Inferno hurriedly whispered to you asking if you'd known he was courting anybody.
To which you quickly whispered back you had no fragging clue either.
So after that quick excitement you'd all moved to finishing things up here before you all went back to earth.
You'd decided to socialize with some of the femmes since you wouldn't be seeing any of them for a while. You'd gradually floated from femme to femme through the base as the time went on. From Greenlight, To Firestar, To Elita even, to the point the only femme you hadn't managed to track down yet was Chromia. Moonracer had seen you wandering and you'd asked if she'd known where she went because you wanted to be friendly.
Moonracer told you exactly where she was, which was in their newly made canteen area. So you'd found Chromia there drinking alone and after grabbing your own cube you'd slid right into the chair across from her at her table. Which- she seemed tense from the start. That or awkward. Trying to keep up with the light casual talk you'd started up with her. Her expression just slightly forced in a way you could just tell.
And you'd thought it was going rather well- or at least you did until your optics caught the fact Chromia was sneaking something underneath the table.
Something suspiciously detonator shaped.
"Ah, going to create a disaster to get away from me?" She paused immediately; some semblance of surprise in her optics. You tutted and pushed your knuckles up under your chin while worrying your optic ridge dramatically. "And here I thought I was being such a charming guest that I'd at least get through one cube; before any well timed and totally unsuspicious events occurred." You shook your helm slowly. "For shame... Though you must tell me what I'd done wrongly enough for the... rather explosive present" you smiled at her.
But she smirked before pulling what you could now tell was undeniably a detonator out from under the table. "Ah- caught. Didn't think you'd have optics still sharp enough to spot something like that." The lack of blinking on the explosive show'd she had yet to activate the timer to use it.
She subspaced it before her servo reached for her cube again. A new focus now present in her optics. "What did you say your designation was again?"
"I didn't." But you kept friendly and gave her it anyway.
Once your designation left your derma, something perked in her optics.
Recognition.
Ah. How did she know you? Or know of you better.
Her smirk turned into a proper smile and she chuckled. "Oh- Well it's nice to finally meet you properly. Ironhide’s told me about you for the longest time." Ah.
"Only pure riveting and positive things I'm sure." You flashed her smile that you'd tended to give when you couldn't be damned to hide the fact that you might be up to something.
"Oh, surely." Chromia sipped her cube. "Told me all about that one time you'd- oh, so purely- somehow managed to stuff a live petrorabbit into his chassis compartment when he was in recharge."
You chuckled at the slightly older memory of the entire debacle.
Ironhide hadn't realized the mechanimal was even there until you'd both gone to get your rations. The petrorabbit having gotten fussy at that point, and had knocked open Ironhide’s chest compartment from the inside out. You were at least quick enough to catch Ironhide’s cube when he dropped it. While he fumbled to catch the petrorabbit suddenly hanging out of his front. "Oh, an oldie but a goodie." You tilted your glass as the energon swirled around in its cube, following your touch. "It's also good to meet Ironhide’s sparkmate. We hadn't known he managed to actually court somebody till we saw you both kissing each other."
Her smile immediately dropped.
It wasn't into a scowl or such but her derma flattened and the amusement that had been twinkling in her optics all but died. "… You didn't?" Oh dear.
She seemed a bit... perturbed. Ah, a touch annoyed she'd been kept under wraps was she? Ironhide would be in for it later.
"No, kept that one to himself. You know how he is though. Always keeping the softer parts of him to himself." Ironhide, gruffer and not exactly a mech to share the heavier stuff all too often. He'd been that way almost as long as you'd known him. But honestly you were glad Ironhide had a someone like that at all. And the fact it was someone who's great for him made it even easier to accept. Chromia really did just seem to fit right next to Ironhide.
A smile climbed onto her faceplate and it was strained. She laughed but it sounded just a touch devoid of humor. "Oh- don't I certainly." Your own smile curled a touch as you in real time watched Ironhide inadvertently getting himself into hot slag.
Her expression finally slacked when she sighed heavily and brought her servo up to pinch the space between her optics. She pulled away and put her cube down on the table with a touch more force than necessary. Causing some drips to bounce out of the cube and onto the table. "I'll have to- straighten him out… before we ship you guys back to that blue planet of yours."
"Ah, I'd ask you to be gentle with him but I know that approach doesn't exactly tend to work with Ironhide." You nodded before clasping your servos together onto your own cube in front of yourself and half bowed to Chromia. Servos around your cube held up like how humans tended to pray to their gods. "So instead I'll ask that you at least keep him in one piece."
Her actual smile returned- now more reserved but it found itself back on her derma regardless. "No promises. But if I do take any pieces off of him I'll keep them in a box, so your medic will be able to put him back together afterwards." The slight amusement in her optics returned now accompanied by an almost cutthroat glint to it. It coupled together with her faceplate in a complementary way. Making her look like even more of a powerful beauty-
Ah, you shouldn't be entertaining that little thought. Not while you were having the last cube you'd be having with Ironhide's courted for a while. You were all going to be sent back to earth in a few joors.
Exploring that little thought would definitely be saved for a lonely night in your habsuite instead. It can slot together neatly along with your other- innocent daydreams of the other bots you so commonly entertained those sorta thoughts with.
Chromia smiled and you could feel your optics focus on how it framed her face so well. You offered an honest smile back, not letting the lower blues settle into frame. You were genuinely happy for Ironhide and you were genuinely glad for Chromia.
"Cheers to a lovely future." You raised your nearly empty cube casually "One we can hopefully enjoy together and the Decpticons disbanded."
Chromia huffed a laugh and knocked her cube lazily against your own. "Well there's a dream I can get behind. Cheers" You both knocked back the rest of your cubes in one go. Afterwards you made optic contact again and held it for a moment before you both chuckled.
You made sure to keep your energy the same level and mood as you chatted away the rest of your time together. There's no point in moping on the impossible maybes anyhow. You were old enough to know better than that. Getting upset over impossibilities and closed doors- You had plenty more enjoyable things to indulge in than the blues.
So you guess your little crush will just have to stay a maybe in another universe…
One that's not this one anyway.
Ironhide was taking stock of what they'd be taking back with them. A few items only, since Optimus didn't want to be taking resources they'd probably be needing more here than they'd be needin' on earth. But Elita was damn fragging persistent if nothing else. So they compromised and they were taking some tech and other materials they couldn't be getting, or making back on earth.
Or Ironhide was taking stock until Chromia said his designation and made him turn.
"Ironhide."Chromia's voice was clipped, but not mad yet- just yet anyway... Aw, slag.
"Yeah-?" Ironhide knew they'd missed each other but he hadn't exactly done nothing to warrant genuine rage outta his courted.
At least he didn’t fragging think so.
"Ironhide- have you not fragged them yet?" And Ironhide realized it was a look of frustrated disbelief on Chromia’s faceplate.
Ironhide cycled his optics and scrunched his olfactory at the blunt question and also in confusion.
Who the frag-?
Ironhide remembered you’d said ya were gonna be acquainting yourself to the femmes for the next joor.
And Ironhide just knew she was talking about you.
Oh, Primus-
“Ironhide." Chromia stressed his designation rough and her frame stepped closer towards himself. There was a sharpness to her that Ironhide hadn't been on the receiving end in a sparkdamn while.
He snapped his gaze away and glared at the wall. Before gritting out the truth. "No-!"
"Ironhide- Really!?
"Oh, like it's so easy! Why don't you do it then!?"
"I just might if you don't get off your sorry aft and tell them how you feel!" Chromia pinched the area between her optics "I can't believe you- trapped on a distant planet with them for actual centuries-! And you still haven't confessed!"
"Things haven't exactly been some fancy ol' vacation away from the war, Chromia! We've been fighting the cons! We've been busy! And we were in stasis for all those centuries!" Ironhide pointed out. He'd only had a few human years to try and get the point across. Not even a vorn! Let alone a decavorn!
"Oh, don't give me that! You've known them longer than you've known me! And-" Chromia latched onto Ironhides arm making him look back up to catch her gaze. "I know sparkdamn well you've been loving them long before you ever loved me."
Disbelief and a heavy feelin' he didn't enjoy feelin much’ at all knocked him one right in the chassis. "Chromia-!"
"Oh, don't try and give me any slag about that Ironhide." Chromia leveled him with an unimpressed look. "What friend had to listen to your freak out when you first realized you liked them like that?"
Ironhide’s optic ridge creased having to remember the embarrassing fragging event. They weren’t even courting at the time- Ironhide knows they weren’t even flirting with the idea either yet. But he opened his mouth to confirm the fact anyway. "You-"
"Who exactly was it who listened to you bemoan about not knowing what to do about your not so little cyberpuppiod crush?"
Ironhide scowl became a frown "You-"
"And who the frag was it who you looked in the optics before you got on The Ark and who you told you were finally gonna tell them how you felt sooner then later?"
Frag- She remembered that too? Even though it was so much longer ago for her then it was for him?
Ironhide sighed his shoulder struts slacking "You."
"Yeah, that exactly-!" Chromia thunked a digit pad right against his windshield glass. "And I have had to sit and watch you drag your pedes and fumble your way around your feelings for them this entire time! And I'm telling you to finally get off your aft and tell them!"
"I can't Chromia-" she just didn't understand it-!
"Don't start using 'can't' when you mean 'won't' ironhide!"
"I don't wanna ruin it!" Ironhide snapped and when he saw Chromias expression and realized what he just fragging said.
"Ironhide what do you mean?"
His jaw shut closed firm with a click.
He tore his gaze away and glared at the wall.
"Ironhide."
The way it was said made him at least look back at her.
She was calmer and a touch softer but still with an undertone of firmness.
He finally just cursed under his vents before steeling himself. "Fine- fine! I don't wanna ruin... I don't wanna ruin what we've got. There- fragging happy?"
Chromia stared at him for a few moments before she deflated. Her plating fallin’ back down where it had been raised in irritation. Her posture wasn't as invasive either. She stood up straight instead of squaring like she was ripe and ready to grab him and teach him what not. "Ironhide- it's not a friendship ending event. And even if it were the way you talk about them, I know exactly how close the two of you are. Something as benign as you catching feelings shouldn't ruin the literal vorns you've been friends."
Ironhide furrowed his optic ridge at the comment. "That's exactly my sparkdamn problem, Chromia." he sighed heavy before he scrubbed his servo over his faceplate. "We're close- we're so close it just makes it so much fragging harder." If you weren't as close as you were with each other Ironhide woulda confessed nearly as soon as he fragging realized he even felt that way about ya. But- you knowing him so well. And him knowing you so well...
It made it messier.
Chromia shared a stare with him.
Her optics searching through his own frame.
Before she finally sighed, and broke her gaze with him. "Fine. You are actually scared." Ironhide’s plating clamped down on himself.
"I ain't-!"
"Oh- what are you then Ironhide?"
"That..." Ironhide’s engine growled and he grabbed the back of his neck with a palm. "I'm just fragging... cautious."
One of Chromia’s optical ridges arched. "Literal vorns worth cautious?"
Ironhide didn't respond.
"Okay- okay. Look. I'm not gonna say I get it. I don't exactly have experience in this exact sort of situation. But- Ironhide. Don't you think that you should tell them so you don't regret anything?"
....
Would he regret it more then he would if he did end up ruining what you had now?
A servo on his gauntlet made him refocus. Chromia was closer and she moved to grab his servo between both of her own. She squeezed- not painfully tight but grounding. Something warm brushed over his front and Ironhide was laxing when it curled around his frame. Chromia’s em field was touching him light but sure.
"Now you wanna act like a kicked turbofox? I'll let you. But only for a bit." Her digits rubbed over his servo. "Because I know you want to do this and I know sparkdamn well you're strong enough to do it." She leaned up and kissed him one right on the derma. Ironhide’s optic ridge stopped pulling together so tight. When she pulled back she let go of his servo. "Even if I'm gonna have to kick your aft into gear every time you start dawdling again."
Ironhide sighed and let his em field push back against her own. Letting his own field do the talking for him when his glossia wasn't working too well.
Chromia’s own expression soothed in response all before she smiled. "I didn't even know them before. But now that I know how much of a catch they are- You better get your hold on them before someone else does. I've seen just how the other Autobots here have been looking at them- pit Ironhide! some of the femmes have been taken in by them too and they haven't even been here for a full cycle!"
Her slight amusement peaking against him made Ironhide scoff. "They're always like that, Chromia. They ain’t exactly all too shy about being friendly with everyone or making themselves comfortable with almost anyone." You enjoyed being yourself and most things wouldn't ever stop ya from doing that.
Ironhide’s known ya too damn long to assume ya were ever gonna change about that.
"Well..." Chromia moved her servos to her own hips before her smile curled just a bit more at her derma. The sudden brush of heat against his front that came after made Ironhide still. "I think they'd look real nice in between the two of us."
"Huh-?!" Ironhide must have heard her wrong because- because what the frag?! You can't just go and charm Chromia too!
Chromia was only amused when Ironhide’s disgruntled em field pressed back on her own. Her smile curlin’ sultry instead. "What? Not like you're the only one who thinks that old flirt is a bit cute. C'mon at least picture it with me Ironhide. I’ll take their mouth cause out of the two of us you deserve their aft with the way you've been staring at it when you think no one's looking."
Ironhide’s optics brightened and his plating fluffed. He'd only looked once the entire time you'd been here-! And even then he only fragging did it because you were bent over helping Inferno with something! Ironhide didn't just make a fragging habit of- gawking at your behind like some pervert-!
"Chromia-!"
"Ironhide." Her servo reached out before her digits started trailing light against his chassis. "Them gasping and making all sorts of sweet sounds for us." Chromia traced over the edge of his windshield glass. The warmth of Chromia’s own charged interest threatened to run over Ironhide’s own field the longer the conversion continued.
His own processor stuck picturing exactly what she was telling him to.
"That nice shade of paint they've got getting a little bit sullied with a very fine nice shade of... pink?" Her digit caught on his windshield wiper- and she dragged her digit pad over it real slow like, before she started pressing down against it. "And that damn smile of theirs just fragged out of them… Doesn't that sound real nice?" Her em field spiking a bit in warmth when Ironeshide’s own involuntarily popped a bit in activity at the imagery.
Because it sound a bit more than just fragging nice to him.
"You've still got a joor here..." she stepped closer again her frame pressing up against his own now. "Wanna do a quickie and swap thoughts and ideas on what we wanna do to them?" A rush went right down Ironhide’s spinal-strut at the idea.
And Ironhide knew he was gonna be needing to take back his own internal comment about not being a pervert real quick...
imagine a gn bot reader, that isn't of being flirty, flamboyant, and a tease, they were practically the opposite?
kind of like Prowl, I suppose, but less. . . cop. And no tax net.
However, I need to see Decepticons practically drooling over an Autobot who has killed many with a cold look, and a pretty frame.
the Autobots are bewildered (some are into it)
✎"Indulge" GN Autobot Reader x (TFP) Decepticons
⦉Summary ❥ ⦊ You're hot and can and will kill them.
⦉Genre/theme 𖥔 ⦊ Mature but not explicit. Cons being thirsty over Powerhouse Autobot reader
⦉Warnings ✘➥ ⦊ Non con fantasies across the board (sans Star, BD, DW), violence, Cons being cons (evil), Medical/experimentation allusions in Shockwave’s
⦉Notes ✚ ⦊ Autobot Reader is a power house, Reader seems “detached” but does care about their allies a lot, uses of "Pretty", "Handsome" and "Beauty" about reader, Airachnid has thoughts about Arcee too in her fantasizing, Reader can be shockingly stealthy- they don’t know how you “pop out of seemingly nowhere” (Which is a bit funnier if you imagine yourself as a bigger bot like myself did lol)
⦉Pronouns ★ ⦊ You, you’re, yours
If Prime isn’t on the battlefield for any reason Megatron at least knows he’ll get a worthy fight if you're there. It's also tantamount to accepting failure on a mission if he allows you to operate freely on the battlefield unchecked. He knows only Soundwave or himself stands a proper chance of infringing on your objectives in a fight. Simultaneously irksome and exhilarating, the fact that you're such a capable warrior. A mech of few words that knows what they want. And that’s to snuff his spark. He's more than once attempt to play into your good graces- with words and promises. It was always futile. He'd offered to once give you anything you'd wanted if you joined The Decepticons. You'd asked "anything?" To which Megatron assured.
You'd then proceeded to ask him to die for you before rushing him yet again. He can't help but admire the pragmatism.
It reminds him of the arena- the pit. But more akin to his earlier years. When he was still finding his strive. Having to stay on guard, lest he be killed by one misjudgment on an attack aimed right for him. The brutality of your strikes. The way you come after him with the sole intention of killing him. It's not one he faces very often with Prime. No... you're a warrior through and through. You're ruthless. Especially so for an Autobot. But the ruthless core of your actions is simply a by product of your cold disposition. A detached indifference to the energon you spill, and the damage you deem necessary to inflict on another mech. Truly, a one mech army. A commendable opponent and one well deserving of his time.
Your looks are simply another discrepancy to your lethality. Most bots who are that up on their own up keep, tended to be vain. Not willing to risk serious damage to their frame (like Knock-out). But instead they simply sat as an accessory to your status as a fighter. He'd taken note of it the first time you'd fought- it had lead to his downfall when he'd made the very lethal mistake of underestimating you. Megatron has entertained the thought of his victory over you. Of beating you truly and claiming you utterly and thoroughly. Occasionally envisioning Prime there having to watch what he does to one of his mechs. Or even desecrating you as completely as possible. Breaking your modesty panel off of you, leaving his trace on every plate of yours, and discarding your battered and used frame for Prime to find.
There were certainly a prime number of choices- ones Megatron had zero qualms in indulging. And none he wouldn't hesitate to put into practice when he finally bests you.
Call Starscream every name In the book! He knows not to take chances with you around. And he doesn’t feel bad about being insulted over his rightful caution. Especially not when Decepticons that didn’t take the same cautions, were woefully unprepared for the damn force of nature you were on the battlefield. Most either being injured badly enough to know to never make the same mistake again. Or they certainly never would, because you’d deactivated them and didn’t allow them the second chance to begin with. He will retreat as quickly as possible considering whatever circumstances he finds himself in with you in proximity to him. No! He does not squeal when you show up out of seemingly nowhere- Knock-out! He's simply- surprised you are as well- covert as you were. That's all!
He'll fight you if he has to of course. (When turning his back on you was much more dangerous than facing you helm on.) He feels like he's been forced into a spar with Megatron! He's on his heels and doing his damnedest just to survive. You don't even dignify him with hello- or "stop right there con-!" No, nothing! He can't fluster you into giving him even a micro fraction of leeway. You still have that cold detached expression on your faceplate regardless of what he says. The only thing he has if you pin him, is utterly and completely groveling and begging. Pleading for mercy is the only thing that gives you slight hesitancy in just outright killing him. And it is groveling on a level that Starscream barely ever even employs with Megatron. His optics might be leaking coolant. Though you always leave him alive when he refuses to fight you back- you also always brutalize him. You without fail sever his connection to his own wings. A fate he's had to multiple times suffer the long repair of. (The fragging agony of-!). A servo full of times was more than enough for an entire function for Starscream!
And yes there is some rather telling... discrepancy between your looks and your lethality. But attractive faceplate and frame aside- any mech has the capability of being lethal. He's attempted to praise you for said looks to appease you (to no avail). And perhaps- perhaps mind you, Starscream occasionally... reflects in a more perverse manner. His thoughts tend to drift towards servitude. Not to you! No- no-! Of you to him. Of you seeing the error of your Autobot thinking and simply- pledging your loyalty to him. Swearing servitude to him. On your knees and servos willing to do anything to please him. Having a mech such as yourself to his beck and call, only concerned with anything you could do to satisfy his ideals, his plans, his needs. To have such a powerful bot readily following his every command. It is quite the... thrilling fantasy to indulge in.
It's not something Starscream ever entertains seriously- only on very lonely charge heavy nights. Because surly there was no chance you'd never have an epiphany of such a drastic sort. But there's no harm in a mech having ideals... now is there?
He sees you sometimes before he even hears you. Which is a fact in it of itself to how dangerous you were. Soundwave didn't know how you did it. You were just as cybertronian as the rest of them. Yet it was hard to hear your mass- even the ever light sound of your plating shifting. Even after this long at war he still has trouble pin pointing your exact location, before you deliberately make yourself known. Full sneak attacks are only something he ever has to worry about because of your existence. The reason he'll stay on his pedes outside of The Nemesis when you could be anywhere. There aren't many who can match him on the field. There were even less who could actively make Soundwave work as physically hard as you do.
There's a bit of a thrill to it all, having a competent opponent. It is a minuscule amount of enjoyment mind you. The only reason he leaves The Nemesis is when he has a mission. Mission that you have no problem or hesitancy in blocking or even destroying his progress on. You are the biggest problem above Optimus Prime himself. Simply because Optimus Prime will focus on Megatron if he has to choose between him or Soundwave. While you will make the effort to fight both of them simultaneously to keep either one of them from leaving your focus. It's the closest he's come to seeing you fighting up hill. But you still never allow either of them to inflict lethal damage onto you. A small part of himself has vowed to beat you. He does note he has the least amount of audio recordings of your vocalizor saved out of any of the Autobots. Even less than your medic. He doesn’t know why that very fact irks him.
The fact that you're a rather attractive bot hasn't been one he's paid too much attention to. For the first couple of decades you've been an enemy to The Decepticons anyway. The longer you proven yourself a problem- the longer you prove yourself a major player in the war; the more noticeable the fact becomes. At this stage of the war on earth, Soundwave has more than once (on his down time and privacy), envisioned a proper victory over you. Since it's fantasy and no more he let's himself indulge on not immediately killing you. Instead holding you down with his servos and body weight, before using his prehensile cables to explore over your frame. Explore your array too. Making a point to use the recordings of your own allies voices to splice some choice mockery; Over the state you've become.
Fantasy is fantasy. Soundwave knows and he knows he wouldn't hesitate to properly take care of you if he ever had the opportunity to deactivate you... surely he would.
There's bots she knows she should be wary of and bots Airachnid knows she needs to be very prepared for if she's going to cross them. You fit slotted perfectly in the latter category. You were merciless, unforgiving, and determined... A mech after her own spark. Troublesome that you were cross faction from one another. She finds she'd more than likely enjoy your interactions if you'd both bore the same badge- at a point in time anyway. What with her solo work. But wistful and rather pointless daydreaming aside- she has a strut to pick with you. As do you her, though you seem to treat any enemy with the exact level of violence you deem necessary. Oh, it is a marvel to watch you work through mechs. Less so being the one on the receiving end of your icy glare. But she was a hard bot to pin down.
She rather finds herself growing frustrated when you utterly and truly do not seem too emotional invested in much of anything. Though the ferocity in which you attack shows anything but. Which in turn only annoys her further, the longer she begins to even consider the very notion that you'd find her not worth your emotions. But you care. Oh, you care. About your team mates. She's seen the look in your optics when you'd last rescued Arcee right before Airachnid could sink her claws into her spark chamber. Your expression much the same as always, but the look in your optics was ferocious. Like a beast more than a mech staring her down and daring her to run so you can give chase. She finds herself having to make solutions on the very spot lest she actually be captured and slaughtered for sport. It's a touch exhilarating- a pain absolutely. But the rush she gets when she realizes she'd gotten away from you. Oh, it is delicious.
She's used to being the hunter, not the hunted. Oh, but you? You're no prey. You're a predator. She might even say apex if she was feeling so generous. Something she laments when you've clearly got such a lovely "coat". The things she could do to you. The things she would do to you given the proper chance. She'd play with you. And she would thoroughly enjoy her time pulling you apart plate- by plate. How you'd squirm. How you'd gasp. How you'd groan. How you'd beg. She would indulge but she wouldn't kill you however. No, you were a prize fair enough and a tribulation great enough- she'd keep you. As her personal pet. You should feel honored, truly. A title in her vorns of function she's only ever entertained bestowing Arcee. She'd keep both of you as her lap cyberhounds if she was ever given the opportunity to do so. Airachnid has-… practice breaking new projects in. She would just positively adore breaking her two personal pet projects in.
Details- and options. So so many options on how she could play with you if you did end up in her claws. Till then she can make note of her ideals as a diligent reminder.
Knock Out utterly despises you. Yes, dangerous, a menace in a fight. With a cold calculated nature that’s much more in tune with a hardened Con than any soft sparked Autobot. (And soft sparked you were anything but.) And most of all Knock out cannot forgive the outrageous fact that you look that good while doing all of it. Knock out likes to play with his food but you tend not to dally in any way. Strikes and coming after them (himself included) as soon as you’d gotten the opportunity to make yourself a problem for them. Cold and to the point, no affection for talking or some good fashioned banter. Gaze sharp and not even dignifying any of them with a proper emotional reaction. As if Knock out wasn’t worth the effort to give him anything other than that cold calculated gaze of yours.
It infuriated Knock out more than he’d let anyone know.
But petty spite and hang ups aside Knock out was still a medic. One of the best The Decepticons had to offer, clearly. And certainly no slouch in a fight or with his energon prod. But a medic none the less. He was far from a push over in a fight. But Knock out wasn’t delusional enough to think he’d be able to take you down with anything other than luck and a very good shot. He’s seen you get into it with Megatron himself. Megatron actually gets excited when he sees you in a fight. That is an automatic "No thank you" from him. So he delegates himself to not sticking around when and if you make yourself known in a fight. Because you weren’t worth the helm ache and the utterly egregious amount of damage you can and will deliver upon him given the opportunity.
Though Knock out was an opportunist. And even he couldn't deny exactly how fetching your frame and chassis were, aesthetically anyway. He's not exactly shy in his admiring. You don't exactly seem to mind, and if you did you haven't made a point to say anything about it. (Or increase the already present brutality in your actions.) He does fantasize about getting a hold of you. Maybe after Megatron got a lucky shot. Or some other extremity that allowed your capture. Regardless, you end up in Knock out’s grasp either way. And he would thoroughly take his up most care in positively ruining your paint job. Both in salacious ways and also maybe in more sadistic methods of indulgence. Finishing his work off with carving "Knock out was here" with a claw either on your inner thigh or directly above your modesty panel.
Knock-out positively adored breaking things up and taking them apart. Even more so when he breaks something pretty and handsome all at the same time. How invigorating it is to watch premium bots fall oh so very low...
It’s the drum of the fight that keeps Breakdown going when the energon starts spilling like a broken undercarriage, more often than not. He keeps going, he keeps fighting, he survives. And he counts his deeds and his damages after every fight. To keep himself ready for the inevitable next. But all the prep in the sparkdamn world, still wouldn’t make him feel like he’s ever actually ready to go pede to pede with you on the battlefield. But slag rarely ever cared if you actually were ready or not to fight for your fragging survival in war. So Breakdown grits his denta and does his damnedest to not get turned into scrap, when you decide to clash with him. Breakdown wasn’t a rookie, he was a wrecker for frags sake. He's been a front liner long after that. So he knew a thing or two about fighting and his way around a war zone.
And despite that all Breakdown still feels like he’s treading water to stay functional whenever your cold optics lock onto him. Your demeanor compared to your frame might be jarring to some- well, he knows better. Especially when he’s worked with Knock out for however many vorns and seen how sadistic the medic can be when he wants to. That an attractive frame didn’t mean slag about the bot actually strutting around in it- Airachnid is another example of the same fragging thing. Sure, it’s a bit of a trip up seeing how good you can look practically slathered in energon. And your weapon still brandished promising to add to the amount you were already drenched in. But Breakdown isn’t dumb enough to let it distract him when those optics of yours are trained right on him.
In terms of fantasy- okay maybe maybe Breakdown lets himself indulge in a little bit of his imagination when he actually has the time to treat himself. How that frame of yours might look even better underneath his own. Him actually managing to break that cold expression always on your faceplate with how he uses you. He thinks you'd look sweet with that cold look fragged out of you. Or maybe your weapon underneath his own chin. And you ordering him on his knees in the middle of a battlefield with only the two of you left on it. But again Breakdown isn’t fragging stupid enough to let them be anything other than late night fantasies. You’ll just be his... dirty little self service secret. It's also why he keeps his mouth shut when he hears Knock out growl "Oh, the things I would do to them-!" Under his vents after a class with you.
Breakdown can deal with his attraction to Airachnid or any other con just fine. But… you were the sinfully sweet thing caught underneath his armor he didn't have a problem keeping hidden (for himself only anyway.)
There are many opponents Dreadwing has heard the tale of through the Decepticon ranks. The Prime himself the most exalted and hated- scorned. For what he is. For what he represents. For what he is not. But you? You were spoken of with fear. Tales from bots seemingly haunted by the mere encounter. Tales from those bragging about having simply survived crossing paths with you. The ones most taken by fear would speak quickly and in a panic, hushed words. As if you were some fictional pit spawn. (And not a real tangible enemy, any of them may face.) As if somehow you would hear the words your enemies spoke of you. As if you would hear the hearsay spoke within the ranks from wherever you presently were; and hunt them down yourself for the mere transgression of slander. He always scoffed at the notion- tales were tales for a reason. They were built on speculation and emotion- and in this case gossip.
Though be that as it may, Dreadwing would have done well to heed the many warnings told to him time and time again. He may have been at least a fraction more prepared. When he had learned that monsters from tales are typically inspired by the horrors of reality. You'd almost killed him- he was woefully unprepared and had even underestimated you; when he had seen with his own optics that you were a real mech. Not a ounce of pity or even scorn on your faceplate when your were halfway through ripping his spark out. Covered in his and other troops energon. He was only saved when your attention was driven elsewhere- when Megatron had gotten a hold of your ally. You abandoned him immediately to rescue them. Dreadwing learned well enough never to allow his guard to drop around you, lest he be killed on the spot. A frightful opponent and one well deserving of the tales spun of them.
Your... appearance he will admit rather shamefully was a part of the reason he had underestimated you as much as he had. Yes, you were clearly capable- with the energon you had spilled and the weapon you brandished unflinching at him. But there was a particular... credence to a way warriors had a tendency to look. A mold you did not entirely fit- a bot he would believe he would have seen on an advertisement when Cybertron was still populated and functional to a degree. Maybe a film. Not one he would be actively struggling not to perish to. With a faceplate that is something even he would- in the privacy of his thoughts- admit to finding... attractive. The ferocity and danger of your being only seemed to accentuate your beauty. A plague on his thoughts off the battlefield. And on it when he has a particularly close encounter with you. He does not indulge too much- (you were a filthy Autobot after all!) But even Dreadwing can't help his thoughts wandering when he self services to take the edge off. Your derma, the shape of your frame, that sharp cutting gaze of yours. Your very being a bewitching, perilous, and handsome call.
The very fatal attraction that Dreadwing simply cannot seem to shake in his more heated lunar cycles of privacy. It threatens to haunt him and cause his own demise.
There are a multitude of bots who need to be kept on high surveillance on the battlefield and off the battlefield. Powerful figures who can turn the tides of battle, and who are to be treated with caution. Mechs who are of high interest and high resource deficit to handle. Optimus Prime was the second Autobot on Shockwave's priority list. The first Autobot on his priority list would be you. You were a stalwart in the Autobot faction and had been for the entirety of your enlisting. Cunning, efficient, and hazardous to any Decepticon you deemed your opponent. A helmache to him when you would turn your attention onto him. Or his projects, if Shockwave happened to be your objective. A mech he will not hesitate to shoot first if he registers you in his peripheral. His chances of survival drastically decrease if he would entertain anything less.
Your pragmatism is something that- bothers his allies to a... substantial degree. In Shockwave’s case he recognizes the mutual comprehension, you seem to wordlessly share with one another. Even as enemies. You are going to strive to kill him. He is going to fight while simultaneously attempting to do the same to you. There is nothing less or more to bother with. Unless you are aiming to destroy his progress or projects. In which case he will need to be twice as proactive to prevent total destruction of his works. Something you have... no grievances in partaking in. The efficiency in which you are capable of operating that particular endeavor leaves Shockwave a touch... irritated. He can't recall any other bot who's made him squeeze his own fist harsh enough he’s popped a digit joint lose.
Neither can he recall himself even- entertaining more then necessary procedures. He's well aware it would be a waste of time. He would kill you first and foremost if he had the opportunity. However, rather perplexingly, Shockwave finds himself becoming- fixated. On particular opportunities he could partake in if Lord Megatron left you as his responsibility after you'd been subdued. Perhaps Shockwave would be- given the order by Lord Megatron to... Indulge. Something Shockwave has found Lord Megatron had a frequency of doing- employing acts for seemingly nothing more than… his own sadism. The possibility was quite high considering Lord Megatron’s pension for such decisions. Logically Shockwave had taken it on himself to then find what would account as “Indulgence” under such a hypothetical order. Opening you up and mapping out your internals would be a possible conclusion. To find out the logistics of what made you such a competent soldier. What he could not see on the surface with only his base optical output. What made you, you.
What made you whole.
… Shockwave believes he may be able to fulfill such an order to Indulge when he imagines your faceplate overwhelmed and your optics brightened. Responding to his touch and his experimental- maintenance.
I think it’s incredibly under utilized that seekers (or any mech with doorwings or wings in general) have sensitive wings.
This is entirely my wing play kink showing, but it’s been shown at least in some shows that their wings are delicate, meaning clusters of sensitive wires are there, and can be used to inflect pain as they are made of thinner metal and can ground fliers making them weaker.
But also meaning imagine walking up behind Astrotrain and gently gliding your servo across his wing and watching him jump out of his metal, all flustered and huffy like his spike didn’t slam into his modesty panel.
Or Starscream being in a mood, yet so easy to bring him down as you start dragging your digits down his wing to the base, massaging them until he’s creaming behind his modesty panel.
On the flip side, while Prowl doesn’t show much behind his resting bitch face, it’s noticeable to you as he’s leaning into your touch so lightly, like he doesn’t want to give away his enjoyment.
While Bluestreak is GONE, you touch his doorwings he’s already putty in your servos and transfluid leaking down his legs.
Hi! Can I get an Earthspark Megatron and a Bot!Reader who’s a bit of a cryptid to cybertronians. Like the Maltos and Terrans see no difference with her but to other cybertronians she’s off and unsettling. She’s very kind and friendly though. Thank you!✨
Uncanny
I love writing the Terrans so much. I get to draw a lot of inspiration from my own siblings growing up.
Warnings: None
Word Count: 300+
“Why don’t people like you?”
“Hashtag! You can’t just say something like that,” Robby chastised.
“What? I wanna know. Best to go straight to the source, right?” Hashtag smiled.
“It’s fine, Robby,” you laughed, “I get asked about it often. Truthfully, I’m surprised it took you all so long to ask.”
“We were trying to be polite,” Twitch said.
“Yeah, but we were starting to get a little worried,” Thrash added.
“Is everything alright?” Nightshade inquired, “Others tend to avert their gaze in your presence.”
“I know,” you smiled, “I’m used to it. Besides, they can’t help it. I know it doesn’t affect you guys, but to other cybertronians I’m a bit of an oddity.”
“Really?” Jawbreaker asked.
“Mm-hm. I was just forged this way. Something about my appearance is barely strange enough to unsettle others, so they tend to look away. It makes eye contact with me very uncomfortable for most bots.”
“Aw, but your eyes are so pretty,” Mo said.
“Thank you Mo, that’s very sweet,” you smiled back at her.
“Wait, so it's like the uncanny valley? I know about that, but I didn’t think it happened to cybertronians too,” Hashtag said.
“How do you know what that means?” Robby asked, furrowing his brow.
“Top ten creepiest animatronic videos, duh,” Hashtag replied smugly.
“Would your mother want you watching those?” you all heard a deep voice inquire.
“Megs,” you smiled as he came to rest a servo on your shoulder.
“Aw, let her have fun,” you teased, “If she wants to scare herself awake at night, she can,” you winked at Hashtag. “She’ll just have to pay for it when she’s exhausted at training the next morning.”
“Yeah!” Hashtag nodded.
“Bumblebee won’t be very happy about that,” Megatron said.
“Well then don’t tell Bee either!” Hashtag replied.
Neither you nor Megatron would tell. It was her siblings she’d have to watch out for.
Warning/tw; dubcon(?), gender neutral reader (spike and valve), technically public, Motormaster is implied to be decently bigger than reader, Motormaster is still Motormaster, implied multiple rounds
Note; My first shot at writing smut, go easy on me T-T, NOT PROOFREAD EITHER!
Oneshot
You could see him in the corner of your optics. Leaned against a wall and helm titled down; something Motormaster had been doing a lot as of late. Linger around you, yet never said anything to you. Wanted to ask, but what would you even say? It's not like he has done anything either; just... chill there. As odd as that sounds for the Stunticon leader. That's what he was doing.
"Motormaster," he immediately lifted his helm the moment you said his designation.
Watched your plating clamp down as his engine revved. Tried to stop it, but frag, he had barely a hold on his thoughts about you! Hated it, hated how his spark spun whenever you even just glanced at him. The heat spread across his frame in a way he only felt when in battle. The urge to win, the urge to conquer... to conquer you. He needed that. More than he was willing to admit.
With a clear of his vents, he pushed himself off the wall and walked over to you. His optics focused on you, and only you. How many times had he studied your faceplate now. How many times had he wanted to kiss you, and have you beg for more. Could feel the worry in your EM field, hated it! Needed you to want him, as much as he wanted you, if not more!
Couldn't stop himself. Motormaster moved to pin you against a nearby wall, and smashed his lips onto yours. A muffled surprise noise left your vocalizer as he did so. The shudder that went through his frame as you melted into the kiss, made his engine purr loud. He shoved in his glossa, needing more of you. Couldn't decide if he hated the fact you tasted good or not.
Servos began to wander your frame. Found sensitive seams, slipped his digits in and pressed; the noise that left you in response made his engine growl with delight. Oh, he needed more of that from you! The charge that built in his array grew as he kept pulling those noises out of you. This wasn't enough, needed to spike you! Especially with your field starting to mix with his in such a warm and pleasant manner.
Motormaster broke the kiss; your oral lubricants stringed between your glossas. Quickly, he moved to find the manual release to your modesty panel, and released it. You barely had time to protest, when he hoisted you up by your thighs and slipped in his spike. A throaty whine echoed out of you. Motormaster wasn't a patient mech when he wanted something, so he didn't let you adjust to his size, before he started rutting into you. Watched your spike twitch as your valve clenched tight around him.
He Needed you; needed you in ways that made his battle protocols near fully activate.
Bottomed out as he shoved in his spike as much as he could, frag. You felt so good! Better than he had imagined, hated that. Your digit pads dug into his paldroun, leaving your mark on him; to be fair, he was definitely gripping your thigh amor hard enough to leave his own dents on you.
Pulled out just enough that his spike head was just in you, before he slammed himself in again. You cried out and threw your helm back. Your back struts arched away from the wall, Motormaster held you against. He didn't let up, not one bit. Slowly your whines become moans and mewls. Words, begs, all of it fumbled out without cohesion as he fragged you. Your optics the brightness he'd ever seen them, and all because of him? Heh, pathetic.
His engine revved as he got his faceplate into yours, could feel the hot vents as you panted. Putting his lips to yours again, he bit you hard enough to draw energon. His whole frame shuddered when his engine growled loud to fill both your audios. Knew you couldn't hold on much longer, and he enjoyed that idea. The idea he could get multiple rounds out of you before he overloaded once! Primus, he might offline if he got any more excited.
His thrusts, no longer had rhythm. The clanks that echoed and your muffled noises as Motormaster just went crazy on your valve. You broke the kiss and cried out once more as your overload racked across your frame. He didn't slow, no, he just kept rutting. Even as your transfluid covered both your chassis's.
Unable to get your vocalizer to actually cooperate with you now, you wanted to beg for him to overload. The way his lips twitched into a smirk. Oh, he loved the state you were in, that was obvious. You didn't even know if you even can stand on your own pedes once he was done! To say he was fragging you senseless was an understatement! Though after a few more thrusts deep into you, a low groan echoed from Motormaster and he filled your valve. Pushed himself in as far as he could, and stared into your optics. Your gaze felt to where you two were met, and whimpered softly.
"Oh, shut it." Motormaster growled, and then bumped your helm with his. "I'm not done. You've made me wait long enough."
I do not have a way to defend myself. I like some of the ES designs?
Angling his helm back with gentle digits along his chin, absently wiping away the drool pouring from his intake as he pants hot air. Nothing more than a mess of breathy pleas and whines and blurry optics.
The servo he isn’t using for stability below himself desperately grabs for yours in a request to slow down. You’re working his spike too quickly, too roughly, and yet he can’t get enough of it as you lay over his back whispering sweet praises into his audials.
The aching coil hurts in his core as it builds higher and higher, right up to that very peak before you let go of him fully. Digits scramble to grab yours, to please put them back on him. He's so close- he’s right there. His processor hazy as his vents start to hurt his vocalizer.
You kiss the side of his helm, working over his neck to his shoulder. Wishes he could get anything out but whimpers to respond to you – to tell you to take mercy on him because his processor is lacking far behind.
Offlining his optics while attempting to regain his bearings. And right then you wipe the palm of your hand up the underside of his spike, and he all but yelps. Hips twitching, bucking to meet your servo no matter how little he wants this to continue. Either leave him alone or get it over with will you!
But he loves the way you speak to him. The way your gentle digits run along his frame and call him so many things. The way you caress his cables and know just how to wring him out fully.
Bee’s groans are barely groans anymore, higher in pitch than they have ever reached before as you decide he has had enough. Speeding up the rhythm of your hand, squeezing and revelling in feeling his frame grow tense and trembling. Voicebox able to produce nothing but pure shuddering static - almost bucking you fully off him with the momentum of the build-up.
He finally, finally, gets over that painful edge with a loud and exhausted moan, transfluid covering your hand in masses as his upper body all but collapses.
I honestly completely forgot about your pinned as I’m like.. half asleep 🥲
But do not fret for I may have another (wonky) idea
Ratchet overworking himself into a shutdown (doesn’t matter what media as he would probably do the same in all of them LMAO) and his dear conjunx looks after him.
Lowk.. if you don’t feel like doing this feel free to ignore lolsies.. HOPE YOUR DOING OKAY 🤍🤍
- 🫧
He's so dumb!!!! AHHHH (*´Д`)ﾊｧﾊｧ
✎"TLC" GN BOT Reader x [TFP] Ratchet
⦉Summary ❥ ⦊ Ratchet has to face the consequences of his actions and be faced by his S/o
⦉Genre/theme 𖥔 ⦊ Romantic/comforting character
⦉Warnings ✘➥ ⦊ Ratchets canon self restricting on energon, and his canon self worth issues in earlier prime.
⦉Pronouns ★ ⦊ you, you're, yours
⦉Notes ✚ ⦊ Reader calls Ratchet "Love"
It's late and his helm is pounding.
Bulkhead was injured and Ratchet had to rush overtime just to make sure he hadn't entered stasis lock from energon loss.
Ratchet sighed and scrubbed his servo over his optics when his vision feed blurred momentarily.
Once the moment passed he continued to type glyphs across the board.
He had work to get done. He couldn't stop just because his frame was having second thoughts on getting through the entire cycle after the excitement calmed down.
That's exactly why when another moment of vertigo hit him, he shook his helm side to side and squeezed at his own temples.
The moment eventually passed and he waited for his wits to fully return, before he continued on typing out the recoding for the system after Bulkhead's impromptu surgery.
He'd had to start working immediately. Cutting corners cruelly. Not being able to even take a moments time to reroute Bulkhead's pain receptors. Bulkhead had assured him he could take it and to just make sure “he didn't meet Primus, when they still had a war to win.”
Ratchet loathed the fact of the matter that he wasn't fast enough to do something so- simple before struggling to get Bulkhead stable.
There was a lot of that recently... Not being skilled enough to meet the needed assistance the others required while risking their lives every confrontation.
Bulkhead's gritted noises of pain replayed in the back of his audials.
...
Ratchet sighed so deeply his plating slacked and his pauldrons slouched.
His HUD that he'd already dismissed more times than he could count pinged once again. Except rather bizarrely when his focus flicked from his HUD from his workspace, his visual feed glitched. Slowing and chopping up the actual happenings in front of himself.
Instinctively his servo reached for his optics. He somehow failed to calibrate the distance correctly and ended up touching his own chevron instead.
He cycled his optics rapidly, hoping it would force them to adjust and stop their current glitch in progress.
Ratchet glanced down at his servos, and the action suddenly had his balance deciding it was going to malfunction as well. He stepped backwards once, then twice, to catch himself before he would fall.
His equilibrium suddenly spun inside his frame and he felt as if his pede slipped out from underneath himself.
"Ratchet-!?"
Ratchet registered his back thudding against the ground before everything cut out.
His HUD booted up slowly. Very slowly. Having to undertake the very long cycling of multiple issues.
But eventually his systems started functioning at operative levels and his senses began to gradually return to him the longer time passed.
Ratchet sighed when his motion returned before onlining his optics. His vision flickered for a moment before it corrected.
When he had a clear view, Ratchet’s optics cycled as he stared up at you.
You were leaning over him and when you realized he'd gotten his wits about him, your optic ridge raised. "Hello, my stupid stupid Conjunx. How are you?"
Your words made his faceplate crease as his processor gradually caught up to the rest of himself.
Only to jerk upwards remembering exactly what had happened. You pulled back before he almost slammed his helm into yours. He swung his legs over the edge of his berth but thought better then to attempt to stand when his world of reference lurched.
His servos flew up to his faceplate to steady himself some. You simply sat down next to him.
His helm fogged and his HUD warned him his fuel tank was close to empty. He dismissed the warning and slowly vented.
The spinning slowed and his senses re calibrated.
Realizing he still needed to answer you, he forced himself to focus. "Functional." Ratchet settled on an answer that didn't both sound terrible and simultaneously like a complete lie.
You hummed "That so? Cause me and Optimus were freaking out trying to figure out what was wrong. Before we scanned you and realized you blew a fuse working yourself down to your struts."
Some form of guilt gnawed against his processor at the image of both you and Optimus panicking over his unresponsive self. Only to discover stress of all things was what took him down. He was trying to do more for the team- not hinder you all further.
You sighed deeply and cursed underneath your vents before reshuffling your own plating to something more casual. The frustration that had ruffled it up in the first place had it twitching here and there since he'd onlined.
Your optics found his again and he looked away.
"Ratchet. You can't be doing this."
"I... have to." Was what he allowed himself to admit.
"No. You don't. And don't try running your mouth on and on like you do when you get upset-!" You injected before he could do exactly that. His jaw shutting closed with a soft clink. You'd leaned into his space your digit pointed at him. "Okay, it may come as a shock to you! But I like my Conjunx not collapsing on the ground due to stress, overworking, and low energon levels.”
Ratchet froze at your words, something cold settling in his frame when you reveled what you knew.
While you just raised an optical ridge. "What? Yeah, I know about your habit. So-" You slid closer to his side and threw your arm over his pauldron and pulled him close towards you.
Ratchet’s optics cycled when you shoved a half full energon cube up against his chassis. "Refuel."
"That's-"
"Half of my ration from today." You pulled it back from being right up against his chassis so you could gently swirl it in the cube. "I'd have saved you a full one, but I just know you'd have used it as an excuse not to take it from me."
Ratchet’s optics darted from you to the cube pressing against his front again.
Apparently he'd taken too long doing that and your expression worried some.
It made the cold settled in his frame sink it's claws in even deeper than before.
"Love, take it before I sit on you and force it down your intake like a bitlet throwing a tantrum."
Ratchet's optic ridge twitched. "You wouldn't."
"Respectfully I think I can in fact overpower and hold down our energon deprived medic very easily, thank you very much. And-" you glanced at the entrance of his habsuite before looking back at him "If you want I can call Bumblebee and Arcee and have them help me hold you down while I manually pour this down your intake."
Ratchet scoffed at the idea, he couldn't help it. "Like they'd agree to that."
"Ah, I think they'd be plenty willing to help me if I tell them exactly what you've been doing in regards to your rations, love." You were smiling. Smiling while you were threatening him. And you were very serious about said threat. "Now... easy way or hard way, Ratch?"
His frown deepened as he stared down at the energon. He could see it reflecting his own faceplate back up at him. His optics were dim and all the general scuffs and nicks he'd acquired sat on his plating.
...
Ratchet finally sighed- his plating slacking before he got himself to take the cube you were pressing against him. He watched it slosh inside the cube before he managed to raise it to his derma and swallow a bit of it. "Good bot." Your em field which had been kept to your side flexed over his frame with warmth. He almost choked on the energon when you did it.
You leaned closer against him when he pulled the cube away from his derma. A quarter remained inside the cube.
Your servo slid off his pauldrons to instead slink down to where you were pressing against his side. Your servo found his and you linked your digits together before settling more relaxed this time.
"You scared me."
Ratchet paused when he was in the middle of glancing back at his cube. "You can't be doing that to me, love." Your servo squeezed his tighter. Your other servo reaching across your own frame to grab his arm too. "Especially not like that." The back of his throat cables caught a line of emotion and they felt tight suddenly.
The cold in his system was the only thing he felt for a moment.
But your em field rolled back over his frame again. Secure. Tight. Warm. The heat of it slipping underneath the gaps of his plating and settling in deeper too. Crawling through his fuel lines till it was what he couldn't not focus on. His plating slid open a touch which had your em field spill into those gaps as well.
The tension of the guilt and shame bled out of him slowly. Not disappearing no. But fading into the background instead. More focused on you pressing against his side and worrying the back of his knuckles with your digit pads.
Ratchet looked back down at his reflection in the energon.
His optics were a slightly more acceptable level of brightness already. His derma set flat and his optical ridge no longer pressing against his expression. The scratches and nicks still remained exactly where they'd been a moment ago.
He still looked utterly terrible.
The weight of your frame reminded him you were there settled next to him. He glanced from his reflection to down where your servos were intertwined.
Ratchet slowly curled his and your arm upwards before he brought your servo up to his derma.
Before he kissed the back of yours.
Your servos fell back down to rest between you both. He sighed, his em field slowly and gently curling up against your own frame. Ratchet couldn't find the strength to apologize and also mean it as much as he should. So he settled for his field to do the work for him. Pulsing back a remorseful mood and squeezing your servo back. The warmth swimming in his frame and dragging along his own plating.
Ratchet’s spark twinged something warm back to you when you moved and kissed him on the cheek.
"Thief" He steals your cleaning cloth and finds himself unable to resist the perverted thought that immediately pops into his helm. [Smut, Yandere/Obsessed]
oooo🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀 you want to post more art so bad ooooo🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀 i love your artstyle and i wanna see more oooooo🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀post art🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀 draw please🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀
i'mmmmm not good at art much. I'm much better writing,, but have a thing I made about my kitty starscream and megatron plushies with out of frame bot reader's chassis. They do actually poof up a noticeable amount when they're fresh outta the dyer
Sometimes I fantasize about Astrotrain coming home drunk and beating me until I feel numb. He kicks me in the ribs until I can hardly breathe. Then he starts to cry and apologizes, begging me to forgive him. He holds me all night as I gently cry into his armor. Please help is there any hope for me
Sorry for the late reply aaa
I love Astrotrain as much as you do. While I thought about a more dramatic, bittersweet doodle, It came out sweeter than expected. He really wants you to forgive him uh
Hope you're doing well, Anon!
If yall saw the version with the hand on the wrong direction, no you didn't
