Fun fact about my yautja bois, I used various dinosaur crests for inspiration for their head shapes! Except for Chromedome, his head shape is inspired by a horseshoe crab lol
Slight sexual content, please ignore it if you aren't comfortable with this!!!
I'm so glad that you liked my idea on the nesting head canon! I've been thinking more on how Echo can lead Cadet into his nest.
I've just had so many ideas going through my head because I just love world building off a simple head canon. Though, I don't want to bore you with the same ask I sent last time, so I'll add on more to the nesting thing!
I like to think that Echo knows how to get Cadet to visit his room as much as possible. It's mostly just to give them datapads or updates on things that aren't very important. As time goes on and Echoes advances aren't going through Cadets head, he gets more bold.
By bold, I don't mean directly asking them for something he so desperately wants, I mean more like physical contact. Lightly rubbing his knuckles against theirs, asking Cadet to preen his wings because they did such a good job last time (and he definitely does NOT want Cadet to bite his wing again).
So besides getting more handsy with the person a seeker wants to trine with, they also get more vocal. Whistling is one of the more common vocalisations of seekers, chirping too. There's no real meaning behind the sounds besides just saying "Look at me!". Unfortunately, these sounds are also dying out just like nesting, but more because Megatron banned the Vosian language.
The last thing I think untrined seekers do is get more hot and bothered (if ykwm). It's just a thing that ties in with their biology since trine leaders usually deal with their members needs. And because untrined seekers don't have that, they don't have a good way of releasing that energy. I'm not sure if you were going for this implication with Echo when Starscream went to go ask where Cadet is, but that's how I took it. So basically, seekers get down and dirty in their nests when the person they were going after decides to choose them!
This one's a little more Echo focused, but it's because I love him so much! He's such an interesting character, especially since his old trine leaders wings are being worn by Cadet! Anyways, take your time to answer this ask, I just wanted to add onto my head canons a little more and I thought you'd enjoy this one :)
(and sorry if you weren't going for a more sexual tone with Echo when starscream went to go talk with him!)
Mentor Starscream x seeker!reader (53/?)
MORE THOUGHTS!!! I CONSUME
EXCELLENT headcanons and I'm so glad you're enjoying Echo! @foxfireseeker and I have lots of love for the big guy <3 A couple added thoughts here and I very much welcome the NSFW thoughts (any and all thoughts welcome, I absolutely love hearing them!) >:) Echo deserves to fantasize a bit as a treat.
NSFW 🔞🌶️
YES I'm meant to be doing other things but I'm tweaking and so! Echo thoughts for spinal and spiritual health. I'm very pleased to get this out anyway so W for me :,)
Thank you foxfireseeker for chatting the Echo thoughts with me, always sets my brain on fire <3
---
This was the third time this week that Echo had very politely, over comms, requested your presence in his habsuite.
Not that the frequency was strange - it could be considered average, in fact, as busy periods had seen you communicating practically every day to handle the distribution of reports. A lull absolutely did not warrant this many discussions, but you'd come to trust Echo's judgement - if he thought something was urgent enough to keep you in the loop about, you weren't going to discourage his efforts.
You arrive promptly at his habsuite, and the door whooshes open even before you can knock. You stare pointedly at Echo, fist still raised in the air.
The mech at least has the good grace to look abashed.
"I'm guessing this is urgent?"
Echo opens his intake, closes it.
"It's about the upcoming distribution of energon rations. I thought it might be important for you to know."
You nod slowly as he steps aside in invitation for you to enter.
"Rations. Right."
Your duties had never extended to the management of rations. Not that you didn't want to help, but that was something entirely out of the realm of what you did.
"I can listen if you have a new plan for distributions? I'm not sure I'd be able to contribute much, though."
Echo seizes your offer like it's a lifeline.
"That would be wonderful."
You step into his habsuite, still not wholly convinced. Echo had never once tried to push his duties onto you, and you were confident that wasn't what he was trying to do. In addition, he was so competent at what he did that you couldn't help but admire how he worked - which only compounded your confusion as to why he'd want your amateur input at all.
Glancing at his berth is not purposeful, but the nest he'd built had seemingly undergone some luxury upgrades and you simply couldn't help but look.
You whistle.
"Wow, you've really gone all out on that."
The buzz of excitement from Echo's EM field is so potent that you can hear it.
"Do you like it?"
Eager.
As if your opinion, for some reason, mattered.
"Sure," You say carefully. "Looks cozy."
To be honest, you're still not sure why he's built such a thing. Echo didn't get cold easily - in fact, he was practically a walking furnace - you rather feared he'd overheat in the midst of so many blankets. Still, maybe he was trying to make his berth more comfortable, and you couldn't begrudge a mech his comfort.
Echo hovers close to you, undeniably hopeful.
"The update on our rations might take a while. Would you like to...?"
You look at his nest, and back to his faceplate. Echo tended to be very hospitable, often spending a good chunk of time ensuring your comfort before he even began his report. It was unnecessary, but sweet all the same. In any case, sitting on his berth felt like too much of an overstep.
"I'm good, thanks. Don't worry about me."
You swear his wings sag a little, but he just nods and launches into his updated plan for the rations.
His voice is soft, but you don't have to strain to hear him. It's not a softness borne of insecurity, but rather of a gentler nature. You can appreciate that. Quiet strength. It only made his modesty all the more admirable, especially when he was so good at what he did.
Echo really is a credit to the Decepticons, you think. You really should listen harder to his plan, and see if you can help where you can. Perhaps that was what he was hoping for - another promotion?
As expected, his plan is simple yet flawless. The distribution system had been optimized, and no additional manpower was needed for its implementation.
"Hey, that's a great idea."
Unexpectedly, Echo lets out a purring trill - the sound rich in his deep voice.
You tilt your helm, confused. At the very least, it seemed like you should respond, and you echo the noise back at him.
Echo's wings perk up instantly, and he makes the sound again, a hypnotic coo that seems to rumble through his entire frame.
So the noise was positive feedback?
You chirp back encouragingly, completely missing the way Echo's optics dilate until his apertures click with strain.
"You'll definitely get Megatron's approval," You say reassuringly.
"... Megatron's approval?"
"Uh-huh. Don't worry. Even to an amateur like me, it makes total sense."
"You're not an amateur," Echo says quietly. "You shouldn't keep putting yourself down like that."
Your browplates furrow.
Not really what you were aiming for. You'd simply been trying for encouragement, but he looks genuinely crestfallen.
"What I meant to say," you continue awkwardly, in an effort to move on from the sudden heaviness in the room, "is that your plan sounds great. Thanks for sharing it with me."
"Anytime."
His voice is soft, and his optics hadn't left yours.
It felt like you should be prolonging the moment, and it seemed that there was something more he wanted to say, but his update was over.
With nothing more to do, you bid him a polite goodbye - the door slides shut, leaving Echo alone in an empty habsuite once more.
---
As of late, you’d received the cryptic hint to ‘follow your instincts’, whatever that meant. Your wild fluctuations in mood had been the only recent thing of note, and they had indeed been accompanied by strange urges. Irritating but acceptable to a mech who knew it was all a part of trining instincts, utterly confusing and frustrating to a mech who thought they were suddenly undergoing a horrific character development arc.
At least your most recent compulsion was relatively harmless.
Relatively being the objective word, because what started out as collecting little trinkets that caught your optic had rapidly become a hoarding problem. Usually, a mech would know to decorate their nest with things they found, thus providing them a more proper place to belong, or be able to select and discard found items according to the preferences of the mech they were trying to court.
However, in your case, the ultimate disassembly of your nest had rendered you unable to connect the dots between it and your trinkets. Starscream had in fact tried to dance around the immediate deconstruction of your freshly built nest, whether by staying out late or ‘falling asleep’ at his desk - but ultimately, the Air Commander needed his beauty sleep and recharging with you in your nest would spell disaster. Thus, your rudimentary nest had been condemned to demolition.
You’d sulked for a few days, but it had overall gone better than Starscream had hoped - you’d quickly moved on to the next thing your instincts were screaming at you to do, perhaps because you’d not quite realized the significance of your deconstructed nest.
And so, with your instincts now purring happily with every trinket you found, your little pile of things had very rapidly grown into a stash. Starscream finally put his foot down when he tripped over your veritable mountain of trinkets upon immediate entrance into the habsuite.
“Disposal,” Starscream splutters, when you finally manage to pull him upright. “Immediately.”
Your face immediately falls, but Starscream, wisely, is quick to suggest choosing items to gift to chosen mechs instead.
“But no one likes shiny things as much as you do,” You say mournfully, and Starscream has to bite his glossa to keep from screaming.
He stubbornly ignores the elephant in the room in favour of delicately picking out a small, ornamental blackbird from the pile. Anything would be easier than acknowledging the enormity of your unspoken feelings. Feelings which apparently, you yourself weren’t even aware of.
“How about this one?”
You peer at it.
“Sure, it’s nice. But I’m not sure who would like it.”
“I'm sure that big mech of yours would appreciate it.”
“Who?”
Screaming was looking like an increasingly attractive option.
“The big one. Black paint. Spines.”
Starscream’s sheer ineptitude with names never failed to amuse you.
“Echo.”
“Yes, yes. Whatever his designation is. That one.”
“He’s not mine,” You say absently, taking the blackbird from him and turning it over in your servos. “Echo’s his own person. Big guy like himself.”
“So just because he’s big he doesn’t need a firm hand?”
“A firm… what?”
The smile Starscream gives you is salacious. There’s no other way to describe it.
He mercifully lets you get back to your work after making you promise to begin disposing of your massive stash, starting with the blackbird - even if you’re barely taking in the glyphs on your datapad after he’d put those thoughts in your mind.
Absently, you don’t even realize you’re making those whistling noises you’d heard Echo make. They came surprisingly easily to you, and felt good in your intake.
Your whistling lasts about fifteen minutes before Starscream’s irritation cuts through your thoughts.
“Why do you keep screaming for attention? Primus.”
“I’m not doing anything,” You say, confused.
“That sound.”
Starscream repeats the noise, a sharp trill that sounds refreshingly crisp in his vocalizer. You can’t help but lean towards it, the sound echoing wonderfully in your audials.
“See? You’re responding.”
“Huh? It just sounds good…”
Starscream stares at you for a second before rubbing his forehelm in frustration.
“It’s a Vosian call. Not quite a mating call, but -”
“A what?”
“By making that sound, you’re essentially broadcasting to the entirety of Vos that you want attention. Of the specific kind.”
"Of the specific kind?"
"You heard me," Starscream mutters. "Where did you even hear that call?"
"Um. Around."
Telling him you'd heard it from Echo felt, strangely, like an embarrassing course of action. You'd tried a couple of times to tell Starscream about behaviour you couldn't quite make sense of, but as soon as he learned it was Echo who was involved, his frown had simply dissolved into a knowing smirk - and he'd waved away your concerns, reassuring you it was nothing. Knowing that Echo had been making a sound with - implications - would just invite more secrecy, and honestly, you were starting to grow tired of it. It was clear at this point that he knew something you didn't.
Also, having Starscream know that another mech was... making that sound at you... was mortifying, to say the least. Not that you knew Starscream would be immensely, smugly pleased about it.
---
This time, you're the one who seeks Echo out - for a legitimate reason, because data for the upcoming mission had to be disseminated properly. From what you heard, it was going to be a big one.
"-so we should split up, as usual - better to have them out earlier, in fact. Maybe we can ask Soundwave in advance for the second batch of data?"
"Sounds good."
"Okay. So aside from that, the first batch is already ready to go. We'll begin early tomorrow."
"Okay," Echo says, and he can't help but watch fondly as you check and double check minor details. Your work ethic was something to be admired for sure, as much as you kept writing yourself off, as if putting yourself down had been hardwired into your coding.
"Cadet," He finally interrupts, when you're on the edge of talking your perfectly-made plans into oblivion. "The plan is solid. Don't worry."
You wrest your thoughts to a stop, and force yourself to take a deep in-vent.
"... Yeah. You're right."
"Mm. And you know you can rely on me to catch any minor details."
"Yeah."
"So stop worrying. You've already done the work."
"... I know. But sometimes I just need to... I don't know. Prove myself, maybe. I don't really do anything important, so I just... have to get it right, especially because it's so small. I can't mess up something that's so... simple."
"What you do is important," Echo says gently, and the conviction in his voice is almost strong enough for you to believe. "It's always the small things that are overlooked, but ultimately keep everything running smoothly."
You chuckle weakly. He sounds so genuine that you're unsure of what to do.
"You're a good mech, Echo."
His plates lift, then settle in a shudder.
"Seriously, I mean it. Anyone would be lucky to work with you."
“Mmhmm,” Echo murmurs, and it’s the helpless ripple of his EM field which finally has you realizing just how close you are.
When had he taken your servo in his, and had you really been comfortable enough not to notice?
Echo gently rubs the screws of your digits with a careful thumb, and you can't help but shiver.
“I was thinking,” Echo says lowly, “my wings have been awfully stiff lately.”
“Aw," You finally manage to get out. "Do you need to go to Knock Out? Maybe a stiff gear?”
“Nothing serious,” is the reply, “but if you could maybe… help me get at the seams in my wings? The preening you gave me last time really helped the more delicate maneuvers... even my superior noticed.”
Echo was careful not to emphasize the smallness of your servos as the reason he wanted your help. Saying your small servos qualified you as the only one who could help would have you bluntly poking holes in such a statement out of confusion - there were tools that even larger mechs could handle to get at the more delicate aspects of a preening. In addition, you’d take that to mean you’d only been chosen because you could and not because you were wanted, and there was nothing Echo wanted more than to feel the scrape of your claws over his plating again.
"I want to get the datapads out as quickly as possible, just as much as you do - so maybe you could just... give my wings a once-over? Just to make sure I'm functioning at optimum capacity."
His calculations pay off - you get to work with an intense, single-minded focus without much of an acknowledgement.
Perhaps it was how you bought his lie without question, the belief that your work would support him into a better position with his superior - that made Echo fall all the more in love with you. Perhaps there was a part of him which felt an iota of guilt at manipulating you - he was, after all, superior enough in his field to issue commands - but he wasn’t really taking advantage of your good nature. It would all work out, in the end. You just needed a little push, sometimes, and as long as you appeared happy enough with the situation, Echo could justify his… not manipulations, but careful arrangements, guilt-free.
“You can use your denta, if you want,” Echo says softly.
You pause at the undercurrent of electricity that accompanies his words - for a moment like the impact of flint against iron, sending sparks flying between you.
Deep, dormant coding screams at you to bite. But truth be told, you're still embarrassed from the last time - when Starscream had caught you, mid-bite into Echo’s wing, your spike pressurized but thankfully hidden behind your panels. You'd followed your instincts, then. But what you'd ended up with was no small amount of lingering confusion and shame at the fact that you'd lost control like that - even if Echo's EM field had practically been singing for more.
Echo’s wings seemed to have a mind of their own - fluttering ever closer towards you, buzzing warmly in your servos - as if it were your touch that they welcomed.
"... I don't want to interfere with your functionality," You finally say, and are surprised to find yourself reluctant to hold back.
Echo considers telling you that bites wouldn't damage the wing at all - far from it - but it felt like pushing for too much, too soon.
In spite of the flicker of disappointment he feels, Echo could wait. He was more than happy to play the long game as long as it brought you closer to him, bit by bit.
---
Still, Echo can feel himself growing greedier by the day for your presence, for your touch.
Every meeting, built on the flimsiest of excuses, had not sated his desires but rather fanned the flames of them.
How Echo longed to devote himself to a leader. He'd chosen this time, entirely of his own volition - nothing like the circumstances that had brought his old trine together. He'd made his choice - he wanted you as his leader, and if you'd only accept him as a trinemate... he knew he'd be content. It was evident in your dealings with other mechs that you appreciated every little effort they made, and did your best to ensure their efforts were noticed and acknowledged. How Echo craved that validation from you. The praise that you'd give him, your words sweet in his audials.
His panels hiss open involuntarily, but Echo’s too far gone to care about decorum. The emptiness of his habsuite only compounds his longing for your presence to fill it.
Echo's frame wants what it wants, and he can’t help but surrender when it’s to thoughts of you.
His vents stutter, a ragged moan scraping roughly from his vocalizer as he wraps a servo around his spike.
The mechs he’d been with in the past always wanted his spike - big, thick, modded - using Echo as he allowed them to use him, as a vehicle for their pleasure alone. Echo was a big mech, not so easily wrung out - but he couldn’t quite dispel the thought that his partners would have no issue with using him until he was utterly drained and afterwards, discarding him until he was desired again - his frame, that was.
A low moan echoes in the emptiness of his habsuite as he strokes his spike slowly - wanting to savour every memory of you stored carefully in his databanks. Sure, servicing his spike felt good - especially with the magnet mods at the crown of his spike - but Echo, deep down, craved attention to his valve.
It wasn’t just that he enjoyed both and wanted something else for a change. A mech who would bother with pleasing his valve at this point suggested deliberate care and desire for his pleasure, which wasn't something he could say he'd experienced before.
Perhaps you’d play with his valve. He wouldn’t even mind if you didn’t do so voluntarily, but you’d be kind enough to acquiesce if he only dared to request such a thing - he knew you would. Your servos were small, but Echo didn’t care. That was what the internal mods were for - you could reach them no problem, he’d made sure of that. Maybe you’d even be impressed with the careful installation of his mods - and would you…? With your glossa?
Echo tentatively reaches down, past his spike, to his pulsing node. The sharp spines on his back drag against the fabrics of his nest as his digits circle gently - air coming in long, heavy gusts from his vents.
He supposed he also had a hand in the neglected state of his valve - for a while, he’d been a bit too ashamed to even please himself there, sternly trying to tell himself that it was his spike that brought pleasure to others, surely he should be enjoying that as well?
He did enjoy it, which made him feel all the more ashamed at the fact that he wanted more. However, in the loneliness of his empty habsuite, Echo could throw all sense of shame to the wind.
Echo overloads on his own digits, biting his lip so hard that energon wells up - to the memory of your brilliant smile.
