#bulkhead x reader

[moonbugggy]

I gotta admit I'm a fan of pinups

[dragonridernoobie]

(You’re back!! I missed ya <3)

Hm, how about headcanons for tfp Arcee, Ultra Magnus and Bulkhead raising young bots post-war?

Im glad you have returned as well, with this being my first post (after taking a break and working out my life) im gonna try my best and make stories with request long and full of content. I hope you enjoy this.

Pairing: Arcee/Bulkhead/UltraMagnus with young bots.

Warning: N/A

Transformers prime x small bots

It was just a normal day at the base. The bots where either chilling with the kids, taking a nap, or playing some games. When all of a sudden, Ratchet calls out for optimus. Turns out, a escaped pod of some kind is entering earths atmosphere and the crash course is nearby. With that knews, Optimus sent Arcee, Bulkhead, and UltraMagnus to go check it out. They were not expecting what they will field inside of the escape pod.

Arcee

Arcee drives and sees the trail of smoke through the sky and to the escape pod in the distance. Bulkhead and UltraMagnus still a bit away behind her. She speeds up and transform. She pulls her blasters out and cautiously walks to the pod. She opens it and freezes. Inside was 2 sparklings. They look up at her and turn their heads. "Carrier?" Arcee looks down stunned before sighing "scrap."

Arcee sighs and picks up both sparklings.

They coo and look up to her.

When bulkhead and UltraMagnus arrived, they were surpised by what arcee was holding.

On the way back, the sparklings cried when separated feom Arcee.

So, she had to ride in the trailer on UltraMagnus with the sparklings for them to calm down.

When they arrive at base, Ratchet hearing the news, takes the sparklings and checks them over.

While doing so, he realized somthing...they have bonded with arcee.

With the knews, Arcee was less than happy but she accepted them.

Raising 2 sparklings was hard for her, she dodent know what to do or what to do.

With the war going and now her being a carrier, this was alot.

Arcee was sitting on her berth, watching the 2 sparklings play on the ground. While watching, she sighs. Knowing if cliff was here, he would spoil them. Seeing their carrier sad, they crawl over and hugs her legs. Arcee smalls softly and picks them up. "Thank you."

Bulkhead

Bulkhead was sent ahead to check out the pod while arcee and UltraMagnus check around the area. Bulkhead transforms and takes out his wrecking balls. He slowly moves to the pod and rips it open. Inside was a sparkling. They look up at him when he teared the door away and starts to cry. "Oh...oh no.."

Bulkhead was never good with sparklings

Hell, he is not even good with the human kids.

He tries to Shush the crying sparjling and picks them up.

He shushed them and tried to rock them.

That dident work, so he tried other options like sining, that seemed to make them cry more...fair.

He decided to take a large jump and starts to play some heavy metal he likes on low volume and is surpised by the sparkling quitting down and looking up at him.

When arcee and UltraMagnus arrived, they are surpised by what meets them.

They head back to base, Bulkhead driving slow and the most carful he has ever been.

When in base, Ratchet checks them over and finds that they are fine.

They learn, the sparkling always cried when bulkhead left their sight, so, bulkhead became a sire.

Bulkhead was watching his little sparkling laying in his arms, heavy metal music playing softly like a lullaby. He gently rocks them. "You are one wierd kid...but my kid...my sparkling."

UltraMagnus

UltraMagnus heads to the pod while he ordered Arcee and Bulkhead to scout around the area. When close enough, he transforms and heads to the pod. Turning a servo into a plaster, he rips the door open and points the blaster inside. What meets him is somthing he would have never guessed. A little sparkling, looking up at him and his blaster. The sparkling giggles, not realizing how close to death they where. UltraMagnus turns his head to the side. "Strange."

UltraMagnus only watches.

He turns to arcee and bulkhead when they arrive and gasped at seeing the sparkling.

Arcee is first to pick them up and coos at it.

They decided to head back to base.

Once there, Ratchet takes them and checks then over.

Once the clear, they welcome the sparkling.

They noticed, the sparkling never laughed.

No matter how hard the bots or kids try, they never laughed.

Intel one day, UltraMagnus was in the same room with the sparkling, looking down at it.

He turns tk Wheeljack who walks in beaten up.

When UltraMagnus lectures the bot, he hears the sparkling finally laughing.

He never understood what this little sparkling deal. He laughed at him being a leader? Plus, now he is tasked with raising this sparkling. He dident like it, he was a general, not a baby sitter. He looks down at the sparkling in his arms and they look at him back. He feels his wall softing and sighs. This sparkling will break his walls.

[imagine-darksiders]

Y/n: I’m going swimming. Can anyone give me a ride to the-

Bulkhead:

[tom-foolery-incorporated]

Bulkhead x Reader angst

A sort of vent fic where Bulkhead comforts reader.

Mentions of previous trauma, mentions of emotional abuse by a father, mentions of suicidal ideation, reader has PTSD around male anger

“I hate men.”

Bulkhead turned his helm to you confused but slightly amused at your tiny scowl. “What’s all this about, sweetie?” He heavy voice rumbled as he put his servo out for you to climb on. You seemed to hesitate standing there staring at his palm before shakily climbing into his grip. Bulkhead gently brought you to his chasis to stabilize and protect you as he made his way to his berth. Battle worn joints creaked as he got comfy on his recharging slab.

“Now what’s got you all worked up?”

“I hate men. I fucking hate men,” you could feel the tears start to sting the back of your throat. “All they do is yell and get angry and throw stuff.”

Bulkhead listened with his brow ridge furrowed.

“I hate men,” you choke with a sniffle.

“You’re being a little vague there, shortie,” Bulkhead said gently. “Tell me what happened.”

You grabbed your forehead fingers digging into your hairline. You were there again, a child, being screamed at by your father that you’ll never be good enough. All men start to sound the same when they’re angry. All men start to look the same when they’re angry. All your failings and faults bubble to the surface like a billboard for ridicule.

“Hey,” Bulkhead said softly trying to pry your hands off your face with his large digit. “Hey don’t go doin’ that now.”

You gnashed your teeth as everything surfaced. Dumbest fucking failure to have the misfortune to spawn on this earth. You wanted to dig your nails into your hairline and pull down ripping away that stupid face you’re forced to wear.

Bulkhead finally was able to nudge your hands away from your face and pin them between his digits. You froze the tears streaming down your face as the day kept playing in your head. Dumbest fucking failure alive.

“C’mon,” Bulkhead nudged trying to get your attention back on him. “What happened?”

You sniffed as the tears strangled you. You throat was like a vice trying to close in and grip itself. “My boss,” you choked. “I did something wrong but he didn’t know it was me but he knew someone did something wrong and he got angry and yelled and threw stuff.” You jerked a little trying to thrash out of Bulkhead’s grip so you could hit and scratch at your face.

“I hate men!” You sobbed. “I wish they were all gone! I wish I was gone.”

You were jerked out of your sobbing as Bulkhead scrambled to bring you close to his faceplate. “Don’t say that!” You wanted to hurt yourself for causing the panic in his voice. “Your human lives are already so short don’t make it even shorter.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled as you wrung your now freed hands. “I’m sorry.”

Bulkhead let out a deep exvent. You felt the air from his frame brush over you like wind. “Hey,” he started rumbling voice filled with concern and affection. “I’m not real good with words and all but it sounds like your boss is kind of an aft.”

You chuckled a little between sobs.

“I don’t think bosses should go around throwing stuff,” Bulkhead said. “Even if you did mess up that’s not really a good way to act.”

You clung to Bulkhead’s servo like a baby koala trying to keep his giant form as close to you as possible. You smushed your tear stained face into the metal of his servo trying to both hide from the world and crawl inside of Bulkhead’s frame.

“I got you, little thing,” Bulkhead comforted. “You’re okay.”

[revelboo]

I'm loving everything about the Clingly series especially the last one.

And honestly, I also would roll up in mine blanket and scream if that were to happen. Regardless which bot they were.

If you have the time, I'd love to see a Clingly tfa among them.

Pretty, pretty, pretty please???

Hope you have nice day (　＾▽＾)

Sure! I probably would burrito and hide, too honestly. Clingy will likely get its own Masterlist as some point, I just have to motivate myself to work on the lists and try to organize them better

Clingy

TFA Bulkhead x Reader

• Hears laughter and Bulkhead’s head turns from where he’d been tinkering with a paint set Sari had brought him. Unable not to look when he hears voice, your laughter. And he glances back at his canvas, shifting slightly to hide it with his frame. Still feels weird to be allowed to create, to not have anyone laughing at him or saying that mechs like him aren’t allowed to pursue things like this. To be artists. But here on earth, he feels like he can dream. Though having you see his work is a whole new source of anxiety. But he can want more than to just be a space bridge mechanic here with you. “Hey, Bulk,” you say, lifting a hand.

• Smiling as he lifts his own big hand in greeting, a ridiculously, tiny paintbrush pinched between his big servos, you remember stretching out against him watching a movie last night as Ratchet had complained about humans not being able to do any of what the action flick was trying to make them believe was possible. Bulkhead had kept brushing the back of a servo against your pinky finger, avoiding your eyes as he’d done it, but you’re pretty sure he’d wanted to hold your hand and you have no idea what to make of that. But he’s definitely a lot sweeter than anyone you’ve dated in a long time. Like the big mech, but you’re not sure that it can really go anywhere no matter the turn some of your daydreams have started taking lately.

• “Have a good time?” He asks and you dig a little box out of a bag, opening it with a grin and he leans to looks. Are those cookies? Weird looking, decadently decorative cookies? You have to know Sari is going to eat most of them as soon as she finds them. Venting to pull in the sweet scent, he fumbles and nearly drops his paintbrush when the smell of you fills his head with the cookies. Knees feel weak as that shift in your scent spills into him and it’s so much sweeter than the smell of the cookies. So much more enticing.

• Watching his plating flare slightly as his mouth hangs open, you smile faintly. “You okay, big guy? Hello? Earth to Bulkhead.” And he makes a funny noise you’ve never heard from him before. Is something actually wrong with him? ‘Hi,’ he manages, mouth still slightly open as he stares at you and drops his brush to splatter paint everywhere. When he makes no move to grab or even seem to notice, you move closer and bend to pick it up.

• Lowering his head to vent against your hair, you startle and he flinches guiltily. Even as he pulls air in through his vents again, that scent almost maddening. Unable to resist. And it makes it hard to focus on anything else as you frown up at him. “You’re not getting sick or something are you?” You ask and he almost groans when Ratchet laughs. Hadn’t even realized the older mech had wandered into the room. ‘He’s definitely sick, alright,’ Ratchet mutters and his plating flares higher, shoulders hunching. Staring a hole in the medic and pleading with his optics for him to shut up.

[orangelemoncandies]

(Transformers) Bulkhead Masterlist (All posts x Reader)

Nothing yet!

[revelboo]

your writing is so delicious I'd sell my soul for a little tfp bulkhead or thundercracker spice,,,

Sure! 🔞 Mass displaced mech 🌶️

Needy

TFP Bulkhead x Reader

• Hand shifting against your hip as your own palms slide against his chassis, it’s a struggle to stay in the moment. To focus on the feel of your soft body against his, your mouth on his and not on how clumsy his servos feel, how painfully aware of how fragile you are he is. A hand cups his face, little tongue tracing the seam of his lips and he lets you in, wondering if you wish he had a mouth like Optimus, like Wheeljack. A body meant for fragging, instead of demolition. And you’re pulling away, brow furrowed. “Where are you?” You ask to make him even more ashamed, because now you probably think he doesn’t want you, when he does. More than anything.

• “I’m here. With you,” he says and the words are too quick. Sliding down his body to straddle his thighs, you pointedly look down to where his spike has slightly depressurized, slipping back into its sheath so only the thick head is peeking out. “It’s not you. Really,” he adds, sounding mortified. “I just, I don’t know. I can’t get out of my head.” This again? Worried that he’s going to hurt you by accident even though he treats you like you’re made of glass. Would love to see him get a tiny bit aggressive with you. A little rough.

• “I like this big frame, the way it feels against me, the way you cover me. These hands, too. You can pick me up, move me where you want me,” you say and his fans kick on. Watching you suck on your fingers, tongue sliding against them before you lean back and he shudders when you dip your fingers into his sheath, stroking his spike as his hips tilt on a groan, whole frame straining. “You’re not going to hurt me.” Rumbling as you coax his spike to pressurize for you, those soft fingers slide over him, tracing seams and biolights. “I want you. Just you.”

• Shifting up onto your knees, you guide his spike to yourself, aware of his chin tucked to watch you, big hands hovering near your sides. And you grab one, guiding it to you, feel those blunt servos grip your waist as you press down. The familiar burn of his spike stretching you making you tremble and his rumbling roughens, becomes a growl. Hips rolling as you fumble to find his other hand and press it against yourself, you meet his luminous optics and take him deep. “I’m yours. And you’re mine,” you moan, feeling his servos tighten on you.

• Slowly helping you move, lifting and dropping on his spike as you ride him, he can’t look away. Watching his spike disappear inside you and reappear slick. Your hips roll every time you take him deep and you’re so tight. Feel like you’re made just to take him. “Mine,” he echoes, the words more growl than anything else as he shifts, easing you down among your blankets, a hand braced over you as his other hand grips you, hips pumping. Probably being too rough, but you toss your head back on a breathless moan, a leg hooking against his hip, whimpering for more. For harder. For him. And he doesn’t feel clumsy or too big, too awkward when he’s inside you. Feels like he’s enough.

• There he is, that strength still tightly leashed, but he’s in the moment with you. Not overthinking this. Because it scares you when he does that, hurts you. How long can he doubt himself before he starts doubting you? Questioning this relationship? Clinging to his arm as he thrusts inside you, feeling heat coil through you, you come apart with a cry. His snarl rumbling through you as his hips pump, before he’s driving deep, shuddering against you and you feel the heat of his release filling you in excess. The servos on your waist gripping you so hard it almost hurts and you know there’ll be bruises. That you’ll have to soothe him because he’ll hate himself for that later even if you never complain about the marks he leaves on you. Feel his spike slip free as he eases you down, mouth brushing your jaw and neck. And you kiss him before he can start worrying, before he can ask if he was too rough.

[revelboo]

Hi! I hope you're having a good day today! I really like your writing and I especially love your Soft Au series. I was wondering if you could possibly write one of finding out that their human is a single parent. Someone who got the job because they needed the money to take care of their kid. I think i'd be pretty interesting to see. And once again I really like your writing and hope you're day is good!

Sure!

Soft

TFP Bulkhead x Reader

• Jogging through the base, cart rattling behind you, you’re already sweating. Stressed as you rush to your assigned stall and hope the big guy is still there. Can’t get wrote up again. And you’re stumbling to a stop, heart racing and so relieved he’s still waiting that you want to cry. “Sir, I’m so sorry I’m late,” you manage, knowing your face is flushed and that you’re out of breath. Unprofessional. Feeling even more anxious when he just slowly gets to his peds, your shoulders slump. Is he going to tell you off? Decide he’s done dealing with you? This is the second time you’ve been late just this week. “I’m sorry.”

• Wincing because you look like you’re about to start leaking, he kneels. Can’t understand why you’re apologizing, why you’re so upset with being late when it’s an honor to have someone trying to court him. Knows his size intimidates humans and some Cybertronians, but you’ve never seemed bothered by it. “Hey, it’s okay. Everything good?” He asks, servos hovering near you, but not touching. Not wanting to cross a boundary. You touch him when you wash him, but he’s never been sure if he’s allowed to do the same even if he’s wanted to. Curious about how soft you are.

• Slowly relaxing when he doesn’t get angry, you shoot him a hopeful look. “My daughter was sick again and I didn’t want to leave her until I was sure she was okay,” you explain and his optics widen slightly. “I left her with a sitter, not alone,” you add since he looks alarmed. Reminding you that you’ve never seen an alien kid. Not that you’re surprised, they’re at war. Who’d willingly bring their kid into a war zone? ‘You have a sparkling?’ He asks and you offer him an uncertain smile. Maybe? “If that means kid, then, yeah.” Need this job, the money to keep you both afloat. To put food on the table and pay the bills.

• Staring at you, he can’t help but wonder what happened to your previous conjunx. How you survived without them. Do humans not bond like Cybertronians do? What keeps partners together? It must be harder to understand each other when you don’t know each other intimately like a spark mate would. Is that why you sought him out? Seeking a protector for you and your sparkling? Are you both alone? You must be. Reaching out, he cups his hands around you and you make a startled noise when he lifts you in his palms. “I’ll be your shield if you want me. Protect you and your sparkling.”

• Okay? “Thank you?” You say, smiling warily. As long as the big guy’s not upset and you’re not getting written up, you’re not questioning the oddity of how formal his words were. Like a pledge almost. “I really need this.” The money and security of the job welcome after your last jobs and you startle when he cups you against his chassis. ‘I know I’m not the sire, but it’d be an honor to look after you and your sparkling,’ he says. Does he mean you can bring her along if you don’t have a sitter? Or just in general? Because that would save you so much money. He’s probably never seen a human kid before and he’s curious.