#transformers imagine

[devilart2199-aibi]

Transformers Valentines! 💝

Free to print out and give to loved one's, friends or people you appreciate! 💞😊 (or as a gift to yourself!) Please do not repost or attempt to sell!

[decepticononline]

Heyy I had a request. What if Optimus Prime is cuddling with a human woman, and he notices that she's ovulating and gets aroused by it? And he kind of inspects her body

Optimus Prime cuddling is not something I knew I would ever need this much, also this is a long one. 5,404 words

Bayverse! Optimus Prime x (Human Female) Reader | 18+ “Something More”

“You’re so tense…” The warmth of his neck cabling felt so alive under the pads of your finger tips. Beneath the soft mesh of the cabling was a rigid mass. Surely this was akin to something like a cramp to humans. As you pressed harder the mech winced beneath you.

You hadn’t meant to make his pain worse at all, prompting a wave of guilt washed over you. You straddled him while sitting, his chassis hot against your bottom. His backstrut tensed against the soft coverings you spread across the floor for him. The feeling of them was unnatural, but they helped ease the strain of his many cycles without a well adjusted recharge.

You turned your attention to the other side of his neck cabling and his optics followed your movements. “Are you still with me, Optimus?” He nodded his helm tiredly in response. The metallic lenses of his optics fluttered and you couldn’t help but be encapsulated by his mannerisms. He was so different, yet so similar. His expressions, gestures and tone all registered to you as if he were human too. You mentally disciplined yourself to focus on helping rather than staring.

As hard as it was to concentrate when he was mass-displaced, you’d have to set that intrigue aside if you wanted to be attentive to his needs. Your little hands could get into places between his armor that he couldn’t with his own servos. That was your expertise to him, able to ease and massage that tense frame of his.

The trust within the bond the two of you shared made this possible. He placed a servo on your back and eased you in closer to his frame, the touch gentle yet firm. “So, how was your day?” That question was something you’d ask him frequently, but today it just felt out of place and even inappropriate to ask.

With how tense his protoform was under the neck cabling, you could take an educated guess on that. “I can’t tell you…” His tone was apologetic and you chose not to grill him for further information. What sucked was you didn’t have that kind of clearance to be able to know about certain things going on and off the base. He’d tell you bits and pieces of what he could, maybe even a little more than he was supposed to…

As one of the very few civilians on base you knew far more than the others but that’s because he trusted you enough to share things with you. Your hand found a particularly tight area right under his chassis and his expression became far more relaxed as your fingers gently massaged it. His free servo positioned itself on your waist and kept you angled as you searched for any sensitive areas between his audial fins.

The tips of his digits massaged into the side of your waist, returning the favor unintentionally. When you glanced back at his faceplate you noticed him staring and looked away, a heat raising within your cheeks. Just friends. Friends that trust each other a lot, that's it.

That was the truth, but when he looked at you there was something else present in his optics, and it wasn’t just trust. He could feel it too. His optics examined you the exact same way you examine him. Different, yet so similar.

A shiver ran over you with his longing stare so you cleared your throat. “Alright you big metal bucket of rust, you’re alright and relaxed.” You tried to sit up but both of his big servos held you in place firmly. Your hips rocked on his chassis as you tried to wiggle out of his grip and there was a glint of humor within his tired blue optics.

Optimus gently lowered your top half down further to him until your face was a mere few inches from his own. You watched as his nasal bridge adjusted as his olfactory receptors took in a scent, maybe two. An optical bridge raised and he allowed you to sit yourself back up. That was a far different scent than he was used to you having. As different as it was, his systems recognized it immediately.

It shouldn’t distract him as much as it did as he has identified the same scent amongst humans before but with you it became disruptive. You were what Ratchet called ‘ovulating’ with something else mixed in this time. “Is there something wrong?” His optics flicked over to meet your eyes and for a moment he felt a hint of shame.

He was far more disciplined than that. As a Prime the mech spent eons of being controlled and methodical, and yet he scents the indication of potential mating along with arousal and almost unravels. “There is nothing wrong.” The rumbles of his deep voice had you adjusting your hips on his chassis. He noticed that.

You didn’t believe him at all but chose to only to avoid the thoughts of having done something to make him this uncomfortable. His servos on your hips continued to keep you in place while you both mentally dwelled on something unsaid between the two of you.

If he wasn’t uncomfortable then what could he possibly be hiding at the moment. The stoic old mech was vulnerable enough around you to show you various sides of him but now he appeared to be hiding all that away. Optimus sat up, sliding you down to his lap and keeping you there. You were now looking up at him instead of looking down at him and further away from his faceplate entirely.

“There’s clearly something wrong.” You folded your arms together glaring up at him and he acknowledged your irritation by moving a servo to the small of your back allowing the warmth to radiate there. “Easy.” Which was both a command and an attempt to deescalate from him. That scent was still there to beguile him while your writhing form stirred something within him.

You wanted off of his lap, immediately. If he was just going to deflect from the situation then he could do that alone in his quarters by himself. The future loud complaints you had in the back of your throat were drowned into silence when he lifted you up to pull you into a kiss. As much as you wanted to be surprised, you couldn’t, there was always something resonating there and unmentioned.

The taste of his mouth against yours was more than just foreign and alien. It was pleasant, so pleasant that it made you feel warmth at your thighs. As his glossa explored the inside of your mouth you realized it was strangely softer than you thought it would be.

Maybe they are just like humans, they just have a rather hard metal exterior compared to soft human skin. Even his lips or dermas as they called them were made of a more pliable metal that the rest of him. It had some give to it, and that excited you. The way his mouth moved against yours was a telltale sign of something else brewing.

Abruptly he pulled away from the kiss, he then stared at you momentarily with turmoil in his optics. Clearly trying to find every possible justification for what he was going to do. All the excuses he’d have to have handy to explain this if the relationship the two of you shared took this route. It would be controversial… to say the least. Yet that didn't seem to deter him from you.

His thumb digit ghosted over your lips, the physical touch reminding him that the kiss you two shared actually happened, and he was responsible. You were so much smaller and softer than him and the thought of him injuring you during such an act kept him at bay for the time being.

You’d be in grave danger if the mech began a much more intimate relationship with you. Keeping this a secret would be difficult and internally you both knew that. The warmth of his servo heated your palm as you placed your hand on top of it. The conflict radiating off of him happened to bother you.

“Optimus, it’s okay I promise. You’re not going to hurt me.” As if you two were already spark bonded, you could tell just what he was thinking. Always knowing just what to say to ease the Prime, it was certainly a talent of yours.

Your mouths connected in a kiss for a brief moment before you felt his servos guiding you onto your back. “This only happens if you want it to. I am not going to be disappointed if you refuse me.” Chivalrous as usual. You flashed Optimus a smile as you guided his servos down to your hips.

How could you refuse him? He’d saved your life more times than you’d even be able to remember, he’s gentle with you, he’s learned to trust you, and if you’re being honest he’s actually really attractive for someone that’s not even human.

“I don’t think I’d ever be able to deny you, Chief.” Chief. The nickname you gave him the day he brought you to the now back in operations N.E.S.T base after an accidental run in. Once on base he was far too busy to even acquaint himself with you, so you called and referred to him as Chief for almost an entire day before he finally introduced himself. To you the nickname just fit, you rarely use it now after he’s told you that you don’t have to formally address him.

After hearing that his optics dimmed slightly. A particularly heavy vent left his intake. Suddenly he likes that nickname. His servo hooked itself underneath your shirt in the process of pulling it off, but then he paused to look at you. In your own alien way he found you beautiful. You resembled a cybertronian femme so much but your uniqueness of your species made you special to him.

The shirt you wore was grabbed and lifted off by your own hands. You sat up just to unhook your bra band’s clasps and free your bare breasts. “Please don’t let me be the only impatient one.” There was humor in your voice, but little did you know his spike ached dreadfully behind his interface panel. He’d give anything to free it but he didn’t want to potentially scare you so early on.

He helped you remove everything else you wore, but you could sense the hesitancy in his actions. As if he was still unsure about all of this. You were so eager before and now you held your exposed legs tightly shut, finally the seriousness of the situation setting in and making you absurdly nervous.

Reality hit you hard when you remembered you’d never done anything like this before. That’s right, there was still the chance you could utterly embarrass yourself in front of the mech from lack of experience. Optimus noticed your shut legs and raised an optic ridge, you were just eager moments ago and now you seemed unwilling.

“If this isn’t something you want then we can just stop.“ You shook your head no as you tried to find the right words to explain to him what had you so shaken up. The expression on his faceplate did little to hide his confusion so you just blurted out your situation.

“So this is going to be my first time.” Saying it out loud didn’t ease you, not even just a little. You expected him to look at you with regret but there was only a countenance of understanding. A servo lifted up your face to his own faceplate and the two of you were close enough to kiss again.

“I will be very gentle with you. We will do this slowly.” He meant every word to you. He was going to try his hardest to control his strength and keep you from being overwhelmed. The fact that you trusted him enough to allow him to be your first made his spark hum within its casing.

After a few deep breaths you were calm enough to allow him to position his helm between your now parted thighs. His gaze lingered upon your sex making you feel rather self conscious, which was short lived once you felt the swipe of his glossa at your core. His ‘saliva’ if it could even be called that slathered along your slit. For him you were far from being anatomically different from a cybertronian femme, even the positioning of it. was the same. Which meant that he thankfully already knew just how to please you.

The next time his glossa came into contact with your cunt, it was to glide across the sensitive bundle of nerves between your folds. That gesture made you gasp and your hips involuntarily buck up into his faceplate. That kind of heat and wetness against it was unlike anything you’ve ever been able to do with your fingers or with a toy. He began circling the tip of his glossa around your clit and that made you writhe and moan loudly. The slowness of it felt like he was teasing but he promised he’d be gentle with you and take this slow.

He got closer to your slit and took your clit into his intake and you immediately tried to shut your legs. A quick servo of his stopped you while keeping one leg parted and letting the other close around his audial fin. His other servo slid up your heaving chest, digits rolling one of your nipples. Clearly he was just as intrigued about your body as you were with his.

His movements became faster and you threw your head back. Your hands became tangled in the plush blankets below you as you felt the hot pressure building within your abdomen. There was no way you were about to finish this fast, it was almost shameful.

A few more circles with his glossa before he closed his dermas around that precious bundle again and you came undone under him. The orgasm was quick but your cunt clenched and spasmed fiercely. Your climax didn’t make him stop pleasuring you, in fact he believed you needed more. That servo of his which fondled your perky nipples descended down, its destination between your legs. His pointer digit gathered some of your wetness on its tip before he gently pushed in inside you.

His finger was of course much larger than your own so the stretch didn’t surprise you. His intake never left your sex as his optics looked up to you to make sure you were handling this okay. When he was sure you weren’t in any pain he pumped his digit inside you while you mewled. The grip you had around his digit worried him, it created some doubt about whether he could actually fit his spike inside of you.

What relieved him was that you could take his digit all the way past the last joint, proving you had far more depth to you than expected. His audio receptors captured every whine, moan and gasp that left your lips. If only he knew he could get you to create sounds like these much sooner.

Your second orgasm was actually tear jerking, just so immensely powerful that your eyes rolled back and stayed there for a moment. The rhythmical circles he worked around the precious bundle with his glossa combined with his digit pumping into you would be the death of you. Even during the high of that climax his motions didn’t cease, he didn’t budge when your thigh pushed firmly against his audial fin.

When he removed his digit from your walls and replaced it with his glossa you saw stars. The size difference between his digit and glossa made you whine. In the Prime’s processors he consistently reminded himself that he needed to be gentle with you but the desire to taste you overpowered all of that. And no it wouldn’t have been enough to taste it from his digit, he needed it straight from your core.

Witnessing the usually very composed mech behave this way was startling to you. All that hard work he’d done to restrain himself, his discipline and morals becoming completely futile in a moment of intimacy. His glossa meticulously roamed your begging walls while you writhed in his grip. To him this moment of risk was well worth its reward, the taste of you within his intake proved to be sweet and palatable.

When his interface panel slid off with a loud hiss his shoulder axles unstiffened, the confinement of his spike a mere memory. The relief he felt was immense. To keep his interface panel sealed while his pressurized spike pulsated against it was borderline torture. Yet he wouldn’t hesitate to do it again to make you feel comfortable and prevent you from being overwhelmed.

He pressed two digits into you this time to collect your slick and applied it to his hardened spike. You caught a glimpse of the slickened metallic shaft standing tall at his hips and your attention focused there. He squeezed himself to show you that it had some give to it and you let out a relieved sigh. Even with that positive factor it still seemed just far too big.

“I’m going to be gentle.” Which came out more like he was reminding himself than easing your worries. That overwhelming feeling of doubt within his processors about whether this will work would stay stagnant until he actually made an attempt. While looking at your dripping slit his hardened spike twitched causing you to shudder.

You even clenched a little seeing its abrupt movement at his hip-struts. He moved to get on top of you, spike accidentally sliding against your slit causing you both let out a small moan. A pronounced moan in that deep voice of his had you clenching around nothing. You were so eager and overly excitable that he probably didn’t even need to touch you to cause a reaction.

While on your back you lifted your head up to look down and see that thick red and blue plated shaft he was angling at your entrance. Before the tip dipped between your thighs it dribbled and left a dense clear fluid trail from your belly button to your sex. Soon you felt the head of it pressing at your dripping hole. ‘Far too big’ you thought as he attempted to press in for the second time after being unsuccessful.

He tried again pressing it at the opening slightly hard that time and the result was the same as last time. “Wait there’s an easier way. I could uh just sit on top of you and gravity will help us?” Your voice became meek the further you explain the suggestion. The explicitly of it sounding completely out of place coming from you, and the notion that he may not even be a mech that would want a ‘femme’ on top of him anyways.

Optimus hesitated for a moment, clearly not as keen about switching positions just as you expected. You were going to tell him nevermind but he rolled over onto his back-strut pulling you on top of him. The movement was quick and swift and yet you still squealed expecting to somehow be crushed in the process. “Sorry.” His tone was apologetic, but you could have swore from the corner of your eye that you saw just the faintest smile just before it vanished.

Ignoring his oddly sly behavior you focused on the thing you’ve been waiting for him to give you this entire time. Your hand reached down between your legs and wrapped around his spike and it felt just as warm as the rest of him. The metal plating of it had just as much squish to it as the metal of his faceplate.

This skin of his never ceased to amaze you, soft pliable metal in some areas and strong hard metal in others. His spike was rather heavy in your hand, the weight of it making it even more imposing. Truthfully you weren’t shocked he was unable to sheath himself without hurting you, your four fingers and thumb couldn’t even connect to wrap fully around his girth.

You could feel his tip begin to dribble fluid again right down the back of your hand. This was good, you sincerely needed any kind of extra lubrication you could get. The weeping tip was guided to your entrance by your hand for you to make your first attempt at sitting yourself down on it. With the first try your walls didn’t budge, not even a little. The disappointment you felt heightened until on the second try you felt a tearing pain while hearing him groan.

That pain left you no longer able to support yourself on top of his chassis so you collapsed on top of him. If you had to guess only an inch slid in, and yet your legs were already trembling. Looking down at you he felt worse than he thought he would. He knew you’d be in pain but not to this level. That vice grip you had around him almost entirely clouding his judgement about whether or not he should stop this. Deciding to make the right decision to protect you he placed his servo on your lower back, coaxing you off of his spike and you of course disobeyed.

Instead you took your chance to sink further down even though it hurt like hell. He tried to help you off once more, and again you ignored him. The lower you sunk down the more your pain had diminished. After those painfully aggravating minutes had passed your body was flush with his own, surprising you both.

None of your toys had ever provided you with feeling this degree of fullness. The kind of fullness that made your head feel heavy and caused your legs to tremble. “You did it.” He praised, while letting a servo cup your delicate face. Yeah, you did it, now just how were you going to manage it. You decided you’d start by letting your hips rock back and forth while around his length.

That was all you could do for the time being as you had not found the strength in your legs yet to fully ride him. The height that you needed to raise your hips just to lower them was just far too much for you to do right now. You were able to grind your clit against the rim of his spike casing leaving you whimpering on top of him. The more firm and smooth metal rubbing against your swollen nub had you reeling.

Optimus had never removed his servo from your back, confident that leaving it there would help keep you stable. Every unsteady movement you made kept his optics in a trance. He watched as you struggled to find your rhythm, rocking against him in shaky motions while searching for a pace that finally felt right. The way your little heart beat far more than it should have during a moment like this meant he needed to assist you and ignore your impending stubbornness.

His servo moved to one of your hips followed by another servo on the other, both latching on adjacent from one another. Both servos gently lifted your lower half up around his spike and then down again, fully sheathing himself once more. “Hey! I can do that myself.” Before you had the chance to writhe in his grip and give him an issue he did the same movement again with your body and you keeled over in his grip. He quickly found a soft rhythm that pleasured the both of you and had you burying your face into his chassis.

The noises your cunt made every time he raised your hips were almost embarrassing, you didn’t know it could get that noisy when you were that wet. Soon you were moving your hips in sync with his servos drag of them. Then not too long after that you were able to raise your hips all on your own, setting a slightly faster pace that caused you both to moan. It sucked being so much shorter in comparison to his mass displaced height. It essentially made the occurrence of you kissing him during this very low.

Low but never zero, you learned as he leaned up and you raised up half way on his spike to meet each other’s mouths. The kiss lasted a few moments before you brought yourself down on the rest of his spike. Hips rocking momentarily before you resumed your previous movements.

His servos wrapped around your hips again, but before you could tell him you didn’t need his help anymore he flipped you over onto your back and began thrusting into you. The quickened pace made your bare breasts bounce hard upon your chest. His spike knocking the air from your lungs with every jab of his tip at your cervix.

It was already pleasurable before, but him taking the reins left you making incoherent babbles amongst your slew of moans. Thoughts certainly happened but the words came out jumbled. Your walls spasmed and clenched desperately around him squeezing his spike beyond belief. He already found you tighter than his closed fist so every clench spurred him to thrust harder.

He tried to control himself, contain his desire and his need for you. To listen to your body instead of his, repelling a side of him that wanted to do this to you roughly. A side of him from his younger years before becoming a Prime that wanted to leave you spike drunk. If you told him to stop and that this wasn’t the way you wanted your first time to be, he’d place your needs over his and listen. When you said nothing and wrapped your legs around him he took it as a sign that you needed this too.

The whining of scouts who didn’t want to complete their duties. The incessant fighting in between mechs on base, and all of his stressors from today seemed to release with every quick snap of his hip-struts. Just one more harsh spasm of your walls and you were coming around his spike.

To say that surprised you was an understatement. Neither your hand or his strummed at your clit for that to even happen, causing that orgasm to startle the hell out of you. You didn’t even know you could do that, an orgasm with an untouched clit? And you thought you knew everything there was to know about your own body.

That climax of yours only galvanized him to pound you harder. He minded his own strength and set a limit for how far he’d go but it was getting harder to control that by the minute. The way your heat fisted and constricted itself around the malleable plating of his spike made his processors spin.

Your nails dug into his chassis, causing him to let out a low growl. A noise you’ve never heard him make before, you liked it. And if you didn’t say that then he certainly felt it with the way you clenched in response. Suddenly he stopped thrusting, you whined and bucked your hips practically begging.

The whining pleas you vocalized had not gone unnoticed. He pulled out the entire length of his spike causing you to whine and whimper even more. You were maneuvered off your back and onto your belly, during that you got a view of his erect spike drenched in your slick with a white ring of cream around the base.

While on your knees you pressed your face into the plush blankets beneath you and arched your bottom higher to allow him a better angle. You understood the change of positions at least from what you’ve seen in porn. When the tip of his spike slid against your slit you felt it twitch against your folds. He was ardent on having you like this, the heavy vents from his vocalizer told you that much.

His spike slid in and your breath hitched, the tearing burning stretch you dreaded was felt all over again. It started to fade so much faster than it did the first time. He placed a warm servo on your back once more to soothe you, apologetic for the pain you’re experiencing.

He waited for you to become adjusted to the stretch again even though he badly wanted to continue thrusting. He would never do something that he knew would hurt you and leave you in distress. Once you felt ready you rocked your hips back against his letting him know the pain had subsided.

The first thrust pulled a loud moan from you. The change in angle felt like a different experience entirely. You buried your face in the blankets below you when the thrusts continued and slowly built up pace. This time you felt his servo move to between your legs while the other was on your hip. His digits zeroed in on that tiny bundle of nerves, circling it and causing you to cry out his name.

The loud slap of his metal exterior against your skin became louder than the noises of your slick sex. You could still feel his optics on you, scanning your back, watching your movements for any sign of pain. He was still not too far gone to cease his protectiveness over you.

Soon you felt an orgasm building, and you wouldn’t be caught off guard this time. The growing tightness within your abdomen, that coil of heat there threatening to snap at any moment. You could hear Optimus venting from behind you a lot louder now. Between his thrusts he’d groan and say something in his native language that you couldn’t possibly understand. His frame ran hot as his spike bullied through every tight clench of your walls, tip of it leaking beads of thick pre-transfluid against your cervix indicating his soon coming overload.

Then your legs began to weaken, moans got louder and you finally felt it. That knot within you unraveled causing your hands to tightly grab the blankets below you. Every thrust from him only made each wave of your climax stronger. Your eyes teared up and suddenly you felt his-struts snap harder against you. The walls of your cunt sucking him in with each pulse wanting to desperately milk him.

“You’re mine.” You almost just barely heard it amongst the other noises going on. He said it so calmly amongst his vents causing you to shiver. His spike twitched inside you sporadically then you felt hot thick streams of fluid spilling into you. With his continued thrusts his blue transfluid frothed out from around his spike and trailed down your thighs. He rode out his overload pistoning inside you without any clear rhythm. Following his completion, he stilled inside you. His spike depressurizing with a faint throb.

His servos caressed the sides of your hips, feeling the indentations of his prior grip on them. He looked you over, looking for any signs of damage and injury. A gasp left your mouth when his spike pulled out of you, allowing more fluid to escape. You were gently turned over onto your back, he checked again for any injuries and found none.

“I’m fine, I promise.” Your tone seemed upbeat and normal to his audio receptors. A smile on your face eased his worries. His servo entwined with your hand causing you to smile even harder. All of that tension between the two of you finally had an ending. It was quite a pleasant and unexpected one. Yet the question in your mind became what the two of you were now? Still just friends or something more?

He pulled you onto his chassis, the recent memory replaying in your head of him allowing you to ride him. Your cheeks flushed remembering the expression he made after he bottomed out inside of you. The two of you engaged in another deep kiss, his servo wrapped gently in your hair. His mouth leaving yours to whisper something to you in a language you couldn’t decipher. Whatever he said while cupping your face caused his spike to pressurize again and prod at your thigh.

Oh this was definitely something more.

[yandere-wishes]

hey whenever you can, can you make some yandere d-16

❥༄ؘ I'll do you one better Anon!! How about Yandere D-16 vs Megatron

𝄞 Somebody That I Used To Know (Slowed)

✿˗ˏˋ ✴︎D-16✴︎ ˎˊ˗✿

.☘︎ ݁˖D-16 can't remember when exactly he first noticed the erratic pulsing of his spark straining against his metallic frame when you walked into the room. Just that, after all these cycles, it had remained constant, enrapt. Pulling him to you.

.☘︎ ݁˖D-16 has a tendency to pick at things he likes, things he finds bizarrely blissfulas. He wishes he could leave them alone, leave the questions locked under his tongue and the paint free of servo marks. But he can't, indifference only gets you so far, and while he tries to follow protocol. He can't always let things go. He can't let you go.

.☘︎ ݁˖He watches as you chip away at sedimentary rock, coated in soot as you trek for the liquid lifeline. He can't help but think you look like a princess from those old spark-tales. Circuitella. Dainty and disheveled. He wonders if he should offer to carry your jackhammer on the way back to the barracks. He wonders if his voice box can even form words in your presence. He settles for trailing behind you. Optics darting between the stone walls and the back of your helm. Orian laughs and laughs and laughs. D-16 can't help but see the humor in it all. Irony too early to land.

.☘︎ ݁˖He didn't mean to drag you to the surface. It just so happens that on that exact day, there was a forgotten crate. And in that exact moment, you'd decided to personally deliver it to the surface train. It just so happens he grabs your servo, pulling into the shadow of the crates. Tucked away beneath him. Heading for doom or glory or a grotesque third.

.☘︎ ݁˖D-16 is obsessive, longing for his darling from afar. Desperate for a sliver of your attention, desperate for the shadow of your presence. He can't help but watch you, optics trailing over your gorgeous features. He can't help but dream of the taste of your lips and sturdy touch as he chips away at a vein.

.☘︎ ݁˖He secretly collects little pieces of your essence. Keeping them locked in his chest chamber right above his spark. Chipped paint, a piece of metal from your plating, tiny parts of an old drill you once used. He needs you in ways he can't understand, ways that claw at his processor and spark like the wild beasts Megatrouns used to fight. Needs to hear your voice as you complain about a stiff joint or your breathy giggle as you laugh at him and Orian arguing again.

.☘︎ ݁˖He wishes he could collect stickers of you. Stick them across his frame and watch the iridescent glow under Cybertron's sun. Wishes he could decorate his measly possessions with your radiant smile and sparkling optics.

.☘︎ ݁˖Is it weird that I LOVE the thought of D-16 collecting stickers? Mostly of Megatrous but also of the other primes, famous racers, sentinel prime, etc.

.☘︎ ݁˖The thought of Sentinel Prime having touched you, having stolen a part of you (let alone a part of him) leaves him teetering on lava rage, leaving his spark breaking in ways he didn't know it could.

.☘︎ ݁˖D-16 is still a child, young and new by Cybertronian standards. But age isn't gauged by online cycles now is it? It's measured in accomplishments and opalescent dreams. So maybe the little Sparkling voice screaming in the back of his helm isn't too far off. Crying that by stealing his T-cog, your T-cog. Sentinel screwed up something in your circuitry. Maybe you were always sparkbound. Maybe you were the incarnation of Solus Prime and he, Megatronus. Maybe you where always destined to be together.

.☘︎ ݁˖These thoughts burn his processor during the treacherous trek back home, back to Iacon. Can you even call he even call that cage a home? D-16 hovers closer to you. Growing bolder, even daring to leave his servo on your shoulder pad. Daring to hold your servo and drag you out of danger.

.☘︎ ݁˖"Thanks, D" you chirp cheerfully and he thinks his spark might just erupt. "Yeah it's nothing" he mutters jogging after Orian leaving you behind with a giggling and concerned Elita-one.

.☘︎ ݁˖After "retrieving" Megatronus's T-cog from Sentinel he swears on Primus himself that he shall fuse you with Solus Prime's T-cog solidifying your love. Bounding you to him through every incarnation.

.☘︎ ݁˖D-16 is tragic in every way. His fall makes Cybertron shake, his new scarlet optics send a shiver through the universe. Obsession and subjugation. Anger and Hate. D-16 burns away, you feel it when you kiss him over Sentinel's corpse. The monster in his place bites your lips trying to devour every inch of your. Conquer, Conquer, Conquer

.☘︎ ݁˖Even if Orion Pax/Optimus Prime tries to protect you. Keep you in Iacon safe from the bot he once called brother. There is no way he can stop the newly evolved warlord from hunting you down. D-16 had always been loyal to his obsessions, tearing through everything to feel them under his servos. Although back then -when they'd been happy under a blanket of lies- D-16's obsessions had simply been holographic stickers of tragic heroes. Now it's bloodstained domination. Conformation to a macraber freedom. He's no longer a little minor bot tolling away, he's Megatron now. Hungry monstrous thing raging wars until he has both his darling and Cybertron in his grasp once more. D-16 had always told Orion that he thought you nothing less than a princess. And maybe it has always been true, after all, princesses are a tragedy too.

.☘︎ ݁˖Optimus can't help but shed a tear at the thought as he watches D-16 Megatron roll away...

⋆༺𓆩𓆩Megatron𓆪𓆪༻⋆

✮ Upon your recapture, Megatron isn't too gentle. He's rough and angry. He's betrayed -again- it pricks at his spark like daggers. The first thing Megatron does is force Solus Prime's T-cog into your chassis. He promised you he'd bound you to him, didn't he? Promised you'd be together in every incarnation. And unlike every golden leader before him, Megatron intends to keep every one of his promises.

✮ He loves the sight of you writhing in pain beneath him. Runs his clawed servos over the the raw wires fusing and the circuits crunching into each other. The look of utter pain in your optics has his spark racing like the first time he saw you in the mines. He can't help but kiss you deeply, greedily swallowing your essence.

✮ You can taste his anger on your tongue. You roll the pulp of rage around your mouth swallowing the sadness, the desperation. Letting the taste burn the roof of your mouth. He calls you traitor and darling between each breath. And you can't tell if he wants to kiss your spark or decollate your helm and mount it on the wall of his new ship.

✮ Megatron suffers in shades and flavors that haven't been invented yet, you feel them swatch against your lips in every single one of his raging kisses. He isn't above leaving marks and dents across your armor. He likes you better this way broken and beautiful. Tragedy in every way

✮ He used to hate seeing you scared and defenseless. Now such a precious sight leaves him intoxicated, spark buzzing with overt excitment. He likes this power, feeling you tremble each time he raises his servo. Your life is laced between his digits, he loves tugging it harshly showing you how he controls you in every way imaginable. He likes being the monster that princesses fear. "Circuitella" he whispers under his breath, he knows you don't get the joke.

✮ Megatron likes to kill through you. Intwined digits holding a blaser, his claws on your digits pushing until the trigger releases and the bullets impale the target. He trails open-mouthed kisses across your back afterward. Sharp teeth sinking into the metal of your neck. He pulls you closer locked between his arms. When did he get so big? You remember when he'd been so utterly small. Little minor bot, where is he? Megatron never notices your melancholy optics or the whirl of your processor as it tries to distance itself from the physical world. All he cares about is your body wrapped within his. About the sweet taste of your metal and paint on his tongue.

✮ Megatron's love is lave upon open wounds, painful in every way. Where D-16's love had once been saccharine energon goodies and shy iridescent kisses. But D-16 is dead, he died with Orion all those centuries ago. Only Megatron remains. Lord Megatron, the one who keeps you caged, overpowers you with rough kisses and says "I love you" while pointing a blaser to your spark.

✮ I guess it's worth mentioning that D-16 would never harm his darling in any way but would absolutely avenge her if someone so much as left a scratch on her. Megtran punishes his darling for amusement and also because he loves her submission and fear. But I guess a little D-16 still lives inside him cause he will rip apart anyone who so much as touches his darling.

✮ Sometimes, when the lights are low and darkness begins to play it's ploys. You swear you see D-16 looking at you. Easy smile and bright sunny eyes. Body still tiny, with no pain engraved upon it. But illusions are always so quick to shatter, their precious shards melting under reality's brutal wight. D-16 withers away and in his place Lord Megatron stands. Piercing Claws and teeth gleaming under the dim light. He's gentle when he touches you laying something on your armour. Thin smile as he admires you, ethereal little you before leaving. You always check to see what he's left. It's always an iridescent sticker from his old collection...

[yes-i-write-fanfiction]

WaveWave fic idea: There are actual historical records and statistics proving that the level of Shockwave's atrocities is negatively correlated with Soundwave's proximity to Shockwave. Post war and cybertronians reunite under on banner, it is written in their new constitution that WaveWave cannot be apart for more than 24 hours lest Shockwave start getting ideas again and Soundwave isn't around to stop him

Shockwave, exactly 24 hours and 32 seconds after last seeing Soundwave: Hmm, what if I drained all the Suns in the galaxy to create one super-sun to fuel a dimensional overlapper to merge our reality with an alternative one where everything is exactly the same except dark matter replaces regular matter?

His parole officer: I don't care that he's in a meeting, get Soundwave on the phone right now!

[hoiststowline]

_jetfire x reader

neutral party Jetfire hasn't gathered the courage to approach Autobot territory, but has finally accepted that returning to the Decepticons is no longer an option. he spends a lot of time in solitude, a sense of being tugged in two separate directions overwhelming him to the point of supposing that it may be best to remain impartial. it would be an outright lie to say he enjoyed the isolation, but as many things do, his desertion came with a price. it's hard to decipher what one truly wants when faced with an ultimatum, yet somewhere deep in his chassis, he knew what he truly desired when he parted ways so tersely ago.

it's all but confirmed when you enter his desolate picture. terrified at first, rightfully so, and after a first interaction Jetfire would rather forget, you don't return to his company for a good week. his voice box had been hitched from disuse, a garbled mess in the beginning that horrified you even more alongside his pleas that he wouldn't hurt you. for some reason he hasn't been able to inquire you of yet, you come back, a second, and then a third time- enough that he finds himself in a struggle to get through hours alone when he had been so accustomed to it prior. you arrive with a smile, always asking him how his day was first, even if you're the one who interacted the outside world today, not him. your morale and compassion is admirable, enough that it's become futile to try and disregard the overprotectiveness Jetfire possess when it comes to you.

perhaps the first time it caught him off guard was when you had tripped over something he had left lying around, a bout of fear rising well beyond his chassis and upward into his throat. immediately, albeit fully aware of his ungracefulness and looming shadow, he comes to his knees to ask if you were alright. a servo had met you halfway, still scared to touch you, but it was a natural reaction to offer you assistance. you're downright embarrassed, trying to fight the redness that coats the tips of your ears and the apples of your cheeks, yet Jetfire thinks you're truly hurt. his servo falters, dropping a few more inches in the air, and without thinking you place your palm atop one of his digits, coming to your feet on wobbly knees. eventually, you regain your balance, entirely unharmed.

unbeknownst to you, Jetfire is frozen in place, mesmerized and simultaneously panicked at how small your hand is. organics are delicate but incredibly resilient in general, and he's seen your hands about a hundred times by this point in time. however, it's the first instance where your warm palm has made contact with his chilly plating, touch hardly detectable to his sensitive sensors. it's rendered him not only speechless, but frightened to even move an centimeter, not wanting to hurt you further, but feeling that he doesn't deserve this gentleness from you.

you had thanked him, as kindly and genuinely as your usual self, and carefully pulled your hand away from his. it wasn't a quick motion, slow and purposeful as if you were hesitant to remove it in the first place. it crosses your mind briefly if Jetfire realizes how overly cautious and empathetic he is, but it also persists that this was the first time the both of you made physical contact. perchance he wasn't offering his assistance to help you up, so instead, you freeze, tilting your head back with a embarrassed look on your face, stumbling over once easy words, an apology heavy on your tongue.

quietly, he lowers the same servo even more, this time, making it fully obvious he was extending his hand to you. "What are you apologizing for? No need." he hums, delighted to find that you understand his silent request. delicately, a single digit hooks under your hand, your palm curving over the angle of his touch. his thumb then ghosts over your fingers, not quite courageous enough to hold your hand in it's entirety, but settling nearby with distracted hopes that you would discern his double meaning.

Jetfire is awarded graciously when your free hand then comes to rest atop the other, solidifying that you had zero intentions of reeling back any time soon. he knows that he hasn't earned this, but he's certain that your impossibly tiny touch was satisfying years of seclusion and indecision, confirming that he truly had made the right choice.

[bobashorriblechildhood]

Can I have headcanons for the TFA bots + Elite guard bots with a cybertronian reader (who came to life by an allspark fragment) who's very Bob Ross-esque I feel like if they got pissed off enough they would yell but it happens very rarely, they also either have an RPG Cannon or a sword and shield as a weapon.

I feel like they would see beauty and everything, nature especially, so they just paint it a lot. I also feel like they would sell their paintings for free, sell it to auctions and they also get commissions from people as well.

TFA! Bots + Elite Guards X Artist!Cybertronian!Reader

You had never known Cybertron or space, the beautiful ethereal vastness of space. It wanted to lead you to every galaxy, show you everything and share its knowledge with you.

But you were never born in the stars, you were born on a organic planet that seemed to welcome you however, it had moments where it resented you. With moments of harsh rain rusting your body and lighting nearly making you offline at times.

Yet, you found beauty in it, the way plants seem to grow, the way the air seemed to shimmer with heat on hot days and how the inhabitants of the planet. Humans, seemed memorised and busy with a life span shorter than yours.

You think you've been on this plant since 1890 or somewhere around there, when humans were just figuring out electricity.

A fallen star had clashed with a steam train and thus you were created.

You never knew Cybertron or any of it inhabitants but still you painted it somehow and created vast illustrations of space.

So, when it become the 21st century you were surprised with the arrival of the Autobots, they were highly suspicious and cautious of you however you were a curious oddity to them.

Optimus prime:

He had never seen a cybertronian as big and lanky as you. Never seen an autobot that big, only Decepticons. But, he was sure you weren't one.

You were too nice and helpful.

Also you painted, which Optimus highly doubts Decepticons would take the time to paint.

Bumblebee:

He's a bit cheeky with you, likes to annoy you to get a rise out of you but you generally couldn't hurt a fly so you just stood there and took it

Eventually Ratchet scolds bumblebee out about being mean to you and saying that you don't know everything and to leave you alone

Ratchet:

He is quite annoyed at you naive nature however, he likes that you come to him to learn more about your home planet that technically wasn't your home but was in a way.

Loves that you paint, you draw Cybertron so well even if you haven't seen it. You also draw earthy nature so beautifully.

Bulkhead:

Loves that you paint as well! He asks if he and you can have paint dates, as friends of course (Bulkhead might have a crush on you)

He loves learning earthian art techniques from you and he teaches you cybertronian techniques in return.

Let's just say you and Bulkhead can talk hours about artwork.

Prowl:

Similar with Bulkhead, you can also talk hours about artwork and now nature! You tell him about your journey through the Americas and how nature and humankind has reshaped the world you first knew.

He just listens to you silently as you ramble on about animals, plants and even rocks.

He enjoys it.

Jazz:

When the elite guards visits, Jazz is immediately taken back by your presence around prowl, he can immediately pick up that you've become prowls new favorite mystery.

Even though you've told everyone your story with a smile, he can still see the tiredness and heaviness of the world in your optics.

But you somehow manage to make it through

He and Prowl help you with your art donations and auctions to humans and even the occasional cybertronian when Jazz takes some of your work back to teh planet.

Sentinel prime:

Is absolutely repulsed by you.

He doesn't wanna go near you and your weird rust and your whole weird body. Likes your paintings tho, just won't admit it and when questioned he says that Cybertron isn't your home and you shouldn't pretend to be something youre not.

The glare everyone gives him makes him regret his words alot.

Ultra Magnus:

You are a little bit taller than him, much more lean and lanky than him as well. He thought you were an enemy at first but after Optimus had spoken to him about you. He just felt pity for you.

Another allspark fragment coming to life in the wrong environment. You even drew Cyberton even though it wasn't your actual home.

He won't admit it but youre life just makes him sad.

Never really talks to you, just nods and walks away.

[robot-horde]

Bayverse Optimus x human afab reader. Cuddles. I want to read about cuddles please. Reader asking for cuddles and/or Optimus asking for them.

I think Bayverse Optimus is the softest of softies actually and would adore quiet, sweet moments like that 100%. I mean, look at that gif, he's so cuddle shaped.

Safe & Sound

Optimus x Reader

Warnings: None it’s just cute fluff

Word Count: 700+

You grabbed the edge of Optimus’ birth with both hands and peered over the top.

“Psst” you whispered. When he didn’t stir, you tried again. “Pssssst-” you hissed, louder this time.

Optimus slowly opened one optic in response and couldn’t help but softly smile at you, seeing only the top half of your face from your position. You stared at him with hopeful eyes and jumped up, trying to show enough of your face to give him an eager smile.

“Yes, sweet one?” his voice was hoarse from sleep.

You took his acknowledgment as permission to get closer, and threw a pillow and blanket up there before starting to hoist yourself onto the berth. 

“You came prepared,” he teased while watching you try to hop up a few times. On your third attempt, Optimus took pity and lent a servo to help you scramble up.

“I can’t sleep,” you said as you adjusted to sit on your knees near his helm, “and I know you don’t like me sleeping in the berth with you ‘cus you don’t wanna accidentally squish me,” you turned your face away from him, “and because I move too much,” you quickly added.

You were going to say more to plead your case, but to your delight, Optimus moved to give you better access to him.

“Yes,” you quietly hissed, victorious. You crawled over to snuggle into his chassis and hummed in satisfaction as you got settled. “I promise I’ll move out of the way when I get too sleepy.”

“No you won’t,” Optimus whispered and you looked up to see his optics were closed again, but he still had a small smile on his face. “You say that every time, but you fall asleep before you can move, sweetspark.”

“Nuh-uh,” you huffed, “I always wake up right by your helm, safe and sound and out of the way.”

“That is because I put you there after you fall asleep,” he chuckled.

“Oh,” you frowned, “I guess that’s why I never remember it then.”

“Yes, that would be why.”

“Sorry,” you whispered.

“No need, darling,” he pulled you closer against him, “I don’t mind.”

Of course he didn’t. He never minded when it came to you. In fact, he enjoyed this little workaround you’d found. It pained him to refuse your presence at night, even if it was out of concern for your wellbeing, so even though he often feigned frustration at your insistence to join him, he nearly always caved.

You tried to stay still, but it was just so difficult when he was so big, and there were so many different places to cuddle up to. You slowly moved across his chassis to get up to his shoulder. You didn’t need to sneak around like that, Optimus absolutely felt you moving, but it made you feel better pretending like he couldn’t if you were careful enough.

“Hey,” you tapped on his cheek, “I forgot the blanket.” you pointed in its direction.

Optimus opened his tired optics to gaze down at you and your guilty smile before picking up the blanket and pillow for you.

“Thank you,” you said sweetly before giving his cheek a quick kiss.

“Mm-hmm,” he mumbled, but it was nearly drowned out by the sound of you shuffling around to perfect the little nest you were making against his neck and shoulder.

Once you were situated, satisfied you’d be able to fall asleep in that spot, you curled up against him and sighed in contentment. Optimus brought a servo up to cradle you for a moment and you nuzzled against his neck cables in response.

“Goodnight,” you cooed.

“Goodnight, sweet one. Rest well,” Optimus closed his optics to relax, but was careful not to fall into recharge before you were asleep. When your breath became slow and even, and you let out a few soft snores, the Prime finally moved you and your little blanket cocoon to lay next to his helm. Close enough for comfort, but far enough he felt you were safe. 

Besides, sometimes you kicked in your sleep, and as much as he loved you, you were stronger than you looked and he didn’t appreciate being woken up so violently. Optimus chuckled to himself at the thought of your little foot against his helm and how silly it must look. Though he knew the two of you must look silly often, simply by being together. Still, he wouldn’t want it any other way.

[miss-nandini]

hey, can you make me a Mirage x fluff reader please mostly cuddling minor cussing please

A/N: I love Mirage. Hope you like it! It got a bit sad in the middle.

Little Things (Mirage x Reader)

It was one of those rides with him where he would be having the time of his life and your head would be spinning.

"Mirage, please stop! I think I'm going to throw up!"

"Hey! Don't you dare throw up inside me!"

Whether out of fear or sheer annoyance, he finds a spot soon enough and lets you stumble out of his alt mode. 

"Sometimes you are no fun, you know that?"

You look around, rolling your eyes as he accuses you of being boring. "It's not my fault that you decide to be a little shit."

You look around again. It seemed like he had brought you far away from the town area. You couldn't see anything other than grassy fields that seemed to stretch on forever.

"Mirage, where are we?"

"How would I know, (Y/N)?"

"Excuse me? Do you even know the way back?" You huffed. He really was something, wasn't he?

"Hey! Don't you trust me? I'm so hurt."

You heard him changing back to his original form behind you. 

"No need to be so dramatic."

"You are soooo mean, (Y/N)"

You could almost feel his pout even though you weren't looking at him. "Well, guess it wouldn't hurt to just sit around for a while."

You found a spot and sat down. Soon, you could hear him walking towards you to join you. You looked up at the sky. The night was still young and there were stars so bright that you couldn't help but admire them. 

"They are so beautiful."

"Yeah..."

You looked at Mirage. He was looking at the sky. But, for some reason, he looked... sad. It worried you. He usually looked  so happy-go-lucky. The sudden change in his demeanor was... startling.

"Mirage?"

"You know... the stars looked just as beautiful from Cybertron... The sky in Cybertron was... stunning."

The tender look in his eyes took your breath away. Sometimes you forget that he has lost his home. It is only natural that little things remind him of the home he was forced to leave.

"Hey, Mirage...? I know this is not Cybertron and I can not give you what you lost. But... you can think of Earth as another home, yeah? Things will never be the same again, but I promise that you will always have a home to return to. You have the others and of course... you have me..."

"Y/N..."

He picked you up in his servos and cradled you to his chassis. "Thank you..."

You placed your palms on top of his servos, your warmth bringing a smile to his face. "You are not so bad for a human, you know?"

"And you are absolutely annoying for a bot." 

"I will get back at you for that."

You yelped as he lay himself down on the grass with you on his chassis. "Hey! Don't do that!"

"Nopeee, I will keep doing this." He tried to ruffle your hair.

"Mirage!"

"Right, sorry sorry. But seriously, thank you for everything, (Y/N)"

"You are welcome buddy, you are welcome."

As you stayed curled up on his chassis, the night out with him didn't feel too bad anymore. It made you realize how much you still didn't know about Mirage. You have grown attached to him. Maybe, the next ride with him wouldn't be so bad after all.