#transformers drift

[mistymoondragon]

Ratchet being the atheist of all time is objectively hilarious considering his immediate circle includes:

-his very devout husband

-his close friend, the demigod robopope

-his other friend/boss/annoyance who is also a demigod robopope (frat boy edition)

-his mild mannered co-worker, who is god

[edd-drawsyo]

Some au Ratchlock for the souls

Deadlock wants to leave the war.. Ratchet doesn’t want to abandon the autobots.

Lowkey this is from september of last year.

[kittycat-228]

[parozi]

more rodimus

and driftrod yearning

[piixieskull]

Free from my shackles..HOORAH!

[owly-lumi]

Part 3 of the AU - How they Met -

There will be more characters ✨🌟🔥

Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt4 - Pt5✨🌟

[itzspringyy]

God he’s just so so so so pretty he gives me gender envy

[quackfallbackhq]

Transformers Autobots Characters Fully Committing To It Now (NSFW DRABBLES?)

Oh, frag.

A whole week—seven nights—of nothing but them pressing you into the berth, their frame caging yours, their voice thick and hungry as they push deep, again and again.

They’re relentless.

Every night, you start off with some strength—but by the end, you’re melting, your body wrecked, your voice nothing but soft, breathless whimpers as they fill you over and over until you can’t hold any more.

And the worst part? You love it.

SMUT - you been warned

The characters are written down below are,, Optimus Prime, Bumblebee, Ratchet, Jazz, Ironhide, Sideswipe, Crosshairs, Drift, Hound and Hotrod.

Optimus Prime

Optimus tells himself he should pace it—but the moment he’s buried deep inside you, the moment he feels you clench so sweetly around him, his restraint snaps.

Every night, he ruins you.

His thrusts are deep, deliberate, his servos pinning your hips as he watches your expression twist with pure, blissful exhaustion.

By the third night, your body practically melts into his, too spent to do anything but take what he gives. And Primus, that just makes him want to keep going.

“You asked for this,” he growls, voice dark, lips tracing your heated skin. “Now, take it.”

Bumblebee

Bee started off teasing—but by night four, it’s no longer a game.

It’s a need.

He worships you, his servos gripping tight, his engine revving as he loses himself in the way your body takes him so perfectly.

Every night, you end up a whimpering mess beneath him, your body trembling, unable to move, too wrecked to do anything but let him fill you up again.

And frag, that only makes him want to keep going.

“You’re so fragging good for me,” he groans, pressing his forehead against yours. “You still got another round in you, sweets?”

You always do.

Ratchet

Ratchet knew this was a bad idea—he knew you wouldn’t last the full week.

But Primus, you insisted.

And now?

Now, you’re spent, your frame wrecked, your voice no longer begging for more, but begging for a break—

But does he stop?

No.

His movements are slow, deliberate, his spark pulsing wildly as he watches you tremble beneath him, taking everything he gives you.

“You wanted this, love,” he rumbles, voice thick with possession. “So now, you’ll take it.”

And oh, you do.

Jazz

Jazz thought he’d be the one to tap out first.

He was wrong.

By the sixth night, you’re melting beneath him, your body weak, your voice a soft, breathless whimper as he fills you up again and again.

And Primus, he loves it.

“Too much, babe?” he teases, his smirk dark as he rolls his hips just right, making your whole frame shudder.

But the second you let out a broken moan—

Oh, frag.

He’s gone.

Ironhide

Ironhide warned you.

He told you a whole week would be too much.

But you insisted.

And now?

Now, you’re spent, your frame trembling, your voice a breathless whimper as he presses into you again, filling you completely.

He should stop. He should.

But frag, you’re so soft beneath him, so weak from taking him night after night—

And Primus, that only makes him want to keep going.

“You said a week,” he growls, voice dark as he thrusts deep. “So I’m gonna give you one.” his servos slide between the crevice behind her knees as he fold her nicely.

folding her knees to touch her shoulder plates as his hips snapped towards her valve.

Sideswipe

Sideswipe laughed when you first suggested it.

A whole week? There was no way you’d last that long.

But now?

Now, you’re melting under him, too wrecked to do anything but cling to his frame, letting him take what he needs.

And oh, he needs it.

“Aw, babe,” he chuckles, voice thick with hunger. “You’re so fragging wrecked, huh?”

And the second you let out a weak little whimper—

Oh, he’s not stopping now.

Crosshairs

Crosshairs should’ve known this would happen.

By the fourth night, you’re already spent, your frame trembling beneath him, your voice breathless as he fills you up again.

“You’re so fraggin’ soft now,” he murmurs, his servo sliding over your trembling frame. “Practically meltin’ for me.”

And frag, if that doesn’t make him want to wreck you all over again.

Drift

Drift had been gentle—at first.

But by night three, something inside him snaps.

You’re so soft beneath him, so pliant, your body trembling as you take everything he gives you—

And Primus, he needs more.

“You will endure,” he murmurs, voice thick with reverence, his movements slow but deep.

And oh, you do.

Each thrust send her though pleasure after pleasure, her whines make him increase each gentle thrust into more needy and hard ones, just by hearing her needy sounds made Drift himself snap.

But he shouldn't, not if they both have all week to continue on

Hound

Hound knew you’d be wrecked before the week was up.

But frag, did you look good like this.

Soft. Weak. Too spent to do anything but let him press you down, keeping you full all fraggin’ night.

And the way you melt for him?

Primus.

“You wanted this, sugar,” he rumbles, pressing a slow, deep thrust into you. “So now, you’re gonna take it.”

And frag, do you ever.

His large size makes her feel many things at once, the tight squeeze he feels when he would grind back in makes him full on shudder.

HotRod

Hot Rod thought he was the one in control.

He was wrong.

Because now, you’re so wrecked, so weak beneath him, your body trembling, your voice a soft, breathless whimper—

And frag, he needs to fill you up again.

He should stop. He should.

But with you this soft, this wrecked, he just can’t help but press a slow, deep thrust into you again.

“… Just one more,” he mutters, knowing damn well it won’t be.

And frag, do you let him.

notes - ahhh.. I suck at drawing transformers bots..