He/they pronouns/non-binary trans man/24/DO NOT INTERACT WITH ME IF YOU’RE UNDER 18/I do requests/I reblog dark content so if that makes you uncomfortable please block or DNI
Bout to travel out of state and on a boat for a week for first over decade. Super nervous, but know will have lots of fun. My cat, Kaiju, totally suspects my upcoming long absence. He has stalked, blocked, and laid on me or suitcase all day.
I couldn't help think a lot of mechs in Soft AU would be doing same, if their caretakers went on vacation without them. Ultra Magnus be flipping out being out of routine, Megatron gnawing laundry, Rodimus moping on the lobby's floor. XD
Hope your travels have been fun and silly~☆
Awww! 💕 I’m having fun. Universal apparently has Blokees now, grabbed a Popcorn bucket Oppy. Did not buy the horrifying Oppy mug, though. Poor guy has seen some shit.
Soft AU- Abandonment
Rodimus x Reader
• “Really?” You groan as you drag your cart into the wash stall. Because your grown-ass, assigned alien is just face down on the ground in your stall. Like a giant toddler throwing a tantrum. “I was only gone three days,” you mutter as you let go of the cart and start mixing soap in a bucket. And his head turns to stare at you. Alien robots shouldn’t be able to do puppy dog eyes, but he’s got it down pat. Not that you’re going to let him guilt you about using the vacation time you’d earned.
• “I’d have gone with you. I could have driven you,” he complains. Because while he’s glad you’d gone to do something fun, he is offended that you didn’t tell him. Or invite him. Had walked into his stall and found a very nervous stranger who’d ran away when he’d growled ‘no’ at them for trying to wash him. ‘I flew,’ You mumble and he weaponizes the look you use on him so often. ‘You’re too big to go with me,’ you add, sounding exasperated as you gesture at him. ‘You don’t exactly blend in.’ Frowning at that, he clears his vents and focuses. Attention dividing as his holomatter avatar glitches into existence behind you.
• Turning, you swear and drop your bottle of soap, dancing backwards when it bursts on the concrete. Because there’s some weird looking guy standing behind you, making the same face Rodimus is. Wait, is this him, too? Reaching out, your fingers poke through the thing before it solidifies some to make your skin crawl as you yank your fingers back. “Why do you look like a himbo Marty McFly?” You ask, thoroughly unnerved by whatever this is. ‘You didn’t even ask if I wanted to go with you. I did. I would have,’ he adds as you stare at him.
• “I can look human,” he adds, arms out so you can see his avatar and your brow furrows. ‘It’s-no. Could you turn it off? It’s kind of freaking me out,’ you say, gesturing at his avatar to make him frown. “What’s wrong with it?” And your mouth opens and closes. ‘It’s freaky,’ you mumble and when he reaches for your arm, you back up. “This is an iconic look,” he mutters as you just make a face at him. ‘Is it, though?’ You ask, running your hands over your arms. And you back away when he reaches for you again. Like you seriously think his avatar is creepy.
• “The point is, I can pass for human. You could have taken me with you. Or at least asked,” he insists as you eye the avatar and feel goosebumps lift along your arms. And he holds his arms out like he wants a hug, walking your way as you back away. Because your skin is crawling, some ancient instinct screaming that that’s not human. ‘Yeah, no, that thing isn’t fooling anyone,’ you mumble, trying to avoid giving him a hug. ‘If it touches me, I might scream,’ you warn him.
Contains, fluff, mechs in love, flustered Ultra Magnus
Summary, Asked by my friend @rinkusu-no-joo
I can just imagine Ultra Magnus being completely flustered and malfunctioning because his partner kissed him, especially if it was done in public.
The briefing room had always been a place of order.
Ultra Magnus had made certain of that.
Every datapad was aligned. Every report had been reviewed. Every Autobot present knew their assignment before he finished explaining it because Magnus believed preparation was the difference between survival and loss.
There was comfort in the structure of it all.
There was comfort in knowing that if he followed the correct steps, if he accounted for every possibility, then perhaps nothing would go wrong.
You had always found that amusing.
Not because you thought his dedication was unnecessary. Quite the opposite. You admired it. You knew how much of himself Magnus poured into every responsibility placed on his shoulders.
But you also knew the mech beneath the armor.
The one who stayed awake after everyone else had gone offline because he was still reviewing mission reports.
The one who quietly repaired damaged equipment belonging to others because he noticed when someone needed help before they ever asked.
“.…and with these adjustments, the southern perimeter should remain secure until reinforcements arrive.”
Magnus’ voice carried through the room with its usual authority, steady and precise. His optics moved across the assembled Autobots, making sure everyone understood.
“The patrol rotations will be updated by the end of the cycle. Any concerns should be brought directly to my attention.”
A pause.
“That includes concerns about your own condition. I am aware several of you have been ignoring maintenance schedules.”
A few Autobots suddenly found the walls very interesting.
Magnus continued as if he hadn’t noticed.
Even if you were standing near the edge of the room, you couldn’t hide the small chuckle of endearment that escaped your lips.
Because there he was.
Commander Ultra Magnus.
The mech who could stare down an enemy battalion without hesitation.
The mech who could take command in the middle of chaos and somehow make everyone believe things would be alright.
Completely unaware that you were looking at him like he was something precious.
He noticed eventually.
Of course he did.
Magnus noticed everything.
His optics shifted toward you.
For a moment, his expression softened. It was subtle. So subtle most people would miss it.
But you knew.
You knew the tiny change in his posture. The way his shoulders lowered just slightly. The way the tension he carried like another layer of armor eased when he saw you.
And perhaps that was why you decided to have a little fun with him. You knew Ultra Magnus could handle almost anything.
Almost.
See, the funny thing about Ultra Magnus is that he absolutely adores affection. However only strictly private affection.
Holding hands when no one’s looking.
Quiet resonance.
A forehead touch after a difficult mission.
Being told he’s appreciated.
He’s incredibly devoted to your relationship.
But public displays?
His processors never quite adapted, even to this day.
“.…The perimeter will be reinforced at 0600. Medical personnel will remain-”
You place a gentle hand on his arm.
He pauses almost immediately to look down at you.
You simply smile up at him like you aren’t about to destroy him.
Magnus tilted his helm slightly. “Is something required?”
“Not exactly.”
That answer alone made several nearby Autobots glance over because you had just interrupted an official briefing with absolutely no explanation to be had so far.
Magnus just looked mildly confused.
Then concerned.
Then cautiously curious.
“Then may I ask-?”
You don’t answer.
Instead, your hand lifts ever so slowly. Your fingers brush against the side of his faceplate, a gentle touch that makes his entire frame go still.
Not because he dislikes it but ecause he doesn’t know what to do with tenderness when there are witnesses.
His voice drops slightly, “What are you doing?”
And before he can question your intentions further, you kiss him.
It isn’t completely teasing. It’s a warm kiss. Your lips move with intention against his. You trail your hand up the side of his face to find purchase at the back of his helm. Encouraging him closer.
For a few seconds, Ultra Magnus forgets the command room exists.
His systems go quiet. The tactical calculations vanish from his mind. The mission reports disappear.
All he can process is the warmth of you against him and the fact that someone is choosing him without asking him to prove anything. Not that you have ever asked him to prove anything. It still always makes his systems hitch when you show him such affection.
His hand, which had been holding the datapad, lowers slightly.
Almost instinctively, his other hand moves, skimming up your side as his fingertips brush higher.
He catches himself before he can pull you closer, suddenly pulled back out of this moment by a single cough from someone in the room.
He remembers everyone is watching. And he has to do the respectable thing and stop because he is Ultra Magnus.
Because there are protocols.
Rules.
Professional expectations.
But Maybe….just maybe….
So instead of stepping away, his hand gently settles against your waist.
Careful. Almost hesitant.
Like he is afraid that if he moves too quickly, the moment will disappear.
When you finally pull back, his optics open.
And the expression on his face is priceless.
Ultra Magnus is not embarrassed easily.
But right now?
He is absolutely caught off guard.
His voice comes out quieter than usual.
“I was under the impression….” he says very carefully, “.…that such displays of affection were generally considered private.”
His processor tries to reconcile ‘Professional military commander’ with ‘My sparkmate just publicly claimed me out of pure affection.’
It cannot.
His vents puff little bursts of steam and the seams around his optics glow a very obvious blue.
Someone coughs.
Someone else snorts.
Because everyone had seen Ultra Magnus fight. Everyone had seen him take command under impossible circumstances. Everyone had seen him remain calm when things were falling apart.
But nobody had ever seen him look like his own systems had betrayed him.
You lower your hand, watching him with obvious amusement. “Magnus?”
He opens his mouth. Closes it.
His expression remains perfectly serious, which somehow makes it worse.
“I….”
A pause.
“.…was not anticipating that.”
The room immediately becomes a battlefield of suppressed reactions.
Sideswipe turned away so quickly it was almost suspicious.
Bumblebee made a sound that was definitely a laugh disguised as a cough.
Ratchet, standing near the back, simply stared. Not because he was surprised. But Because he was absolutely not surprised.
“Seriously?” Ratchet muttered.
Magnus’ helm turned slightly.
“Doctor.”
“Don’t ‘Doctor’ me. You’ve survived war zones but one kiss and suddenly your processor needs a restart?”
“I do not require….that.”
A beat.
“Probably.”
That did it.
A few Autobots actually laughed.
And Magnus looked horrified.
Not angry.
Not offended.
Just genuinely bewildered that everyone is reacting this way.
You, meanwhile, look entirely pleased.
Because beneath all the armor, beneath the commander’s uniform and the responsibility and the impossible expectations he placed on himself, there was still a mech who could be made speechless by being loved.
Magnus remains completely motionless for approximately six seconds before saying, in the most carefully controlled voice imaginable, “.…Dismissed.”
Nobody moves.
“I said dismissed.”
The room empties at record speed because everyone knows the poor commander is experiencing the equivalent of a blue screen.
Would you be able to write part 3 for wheeljack soft au-date?❤️🤧
Sure!
Soft AU- Date Pt 3
Wheeljack x Reader
• “Oh, yeah,” he says with a grimace. Because incorporating sensory nets into the avatar so that he could feel had seemed like a good idea at the time and you frown slightly, brow furrowing. ‘Why do you look like if you and the Mythbusters dudes had a baby?’ Shrugging slightly, he relaxes now that he’s certain you’re not about to knee him again. “I needed to model the avatar on a human. For realism,” he answers and your lips thin as you study him. Had picked two of the most exemplary humans he could think of. Though, it doesn’t hurt that he’s been fascinated with their show. And that everyone loved them for blowing things up even though it’s a whole thing when he does it accidentally.
• So he what, blended his own face with theirs? Because now that you’ve noticed it, there’s no unseeing it. Hadn’t pictured him for a fanboy and it’s kind of cute, though. “I thought that we could try this the human way? Go on a date?” He asks, holding out a hand as you study the avatar and you reach out to grab his hand, nose wrinkling at the fact that it’s warm. Feels like actual skin. ‘So this is like a hologram?’ Leaning to poke him in the cheek, his skin has give to it. Like human skin should even as your brain is going all jittery and uneasy if you look at his face too long.
• “It’s holomatter,” he corrects as you circle him and lift the hem of his shirt to press your fingers against his side. What are you doing? Some sort of human courting ritual? Inspecting him to decide if he’s worth claiming as yours? ‘No ribs,’ you mutter, pressing against his illusory skin. And you catch his hand again, pressing against his wrist. ‘I guess it makes sense that there aren’t bones,’ you mumble, letting go and he catches your wrist, your startled eyes lifting to his when he smoothes his avatar’s thumbs against the inside of your wrist. “I can augment the mesh to give the illusion of bones under the muscle and skin if you’d prefer that.”
• He’s running big warm hands over your fingers and palm as your heart goes racing. Would there be a heartbeat if you reached out to touch him? How detailed is this thing? Maybe it’s like a Ken doll. And your mind refuses to think of the avatar as anything but a thing. “I prefer you,” you answer honestly and he looks surprised. His face actually darkening to make your breath catch. Like he’s blushing. Like when his vocal indicators goes pink. ‘Really?’ He asks and your eyes drop to your hand in his. “Yeah, the avatar is kind of creepy,” you mumble, flustered. ‘Oh.’ That’s not what you meant to say, but admitting that you like him is intimidating. Though he did this for you. Wanted to spend time with you. So he must like you, too.
• “Can you get rid of the avatar so we can go somewhere? Together?” You ask, eyes flicking up to his and away to stare at Hound and Mirage still watching. Like you’re embarrassed. And you flinch when he drops the avatar to disappear completely. Striding over, he mass shifts and hesitates. ‘Did you mean now? Or should I leave and come back?’ Feels like he’s messing up. Has no idea what he’s doing. How to be charming like Mirage or sure of himself like Hound. But you’re reaching for his hand anyway, interlacing your fingers with his servos. “Now is good,” you tell him as his vocal indicators flicker pink.
You wouldnt know perchance where one could aquire the Comic to "more than meets the eye"?
Cause i looked on Amazon and
300€? Im going crazy, for a book??? The 4th Volume was over 1k? My local bookstore sadly doesnt have them, Nor can they Order them, but im Not rich enough to pay that much for a Comic book.
Oh, yikes! I’d try a local comic book store or a local comic con in your area. As for the collected volumes, you might luck out on eBay or Mercari used, but that price is just ridiculous
Soft AU Date Pt 2
Wheeljack x Reader
• Groaning and unable to let go of himself, he lets Mirage and Hound both grab the avatar by an arm and lift him to his feet. And he nearly crumples again as soon as they let go. Leaning heavily on Hound as he cups himself, he tries to figure out why you’d done that. Wasn’t that a bit of an overreaction? Maybe humans are territorial? You’ve been courting him in his bot form and hadn’t recognized him in this form, so maybe you were warning him off that you were taken. Aggressively. Violently.
• ‘So what did we learn?’ Mirage asks as Wheeljack shudders. Hadn’t imagined humans could lash out like that when you’re normally so sweet and soft. Also hadn’t imagined it could be a turn on. Flustered as his vocal indicators flash pink, he rumbles. ‘For Primus’s sake,’ Mirage grumbles, throwing up his hands and Wheeljack looks away, a shoulder lifting in a shrug before he’s struggling out of Hound’s grip and heading after you.
• Striding through the base, you’re not surprised that there’s never a guard around when you need one. Maybe you can just find and hide near one of the aliens? Whoever that guy was, he’s not supposed to be here and some of the Cybertronians are a bit protective of caretakers. And you risk a glance over your shoulder. Only to see the creep limping after you. Had thought you’d punted his balls into the back of his throat, but maybe this guy has a thing for pain? Or he’s stupid.
• “Back off,” you snarl as he follows you and that raw aggression in your tone’s doing things to him. Things he really doesn’t want to examine too closely. ‘It’s me. Wheeljack? It’s an avatar, okay?’ He calls out and you hesitate, eyes narrowing. ‘I thought maybe we could explore? As humans?’ Spend some time together. “What?” You demand, brow furrowing. Approaching warily, he lifts his hands palms out. Would rather you didn’t knee him again. ‘It’s Wheeljack?’ He repeats hopefully.
• Staring at him, your mouth opens and closes. Registering his hesitant, sheepish smile. The shape of his face. Recognition sparking through you as you flush. “Why are you- why do you look like that?” You mumble, realizing you kneed him. Hard. And you just want to turn and stride away. Pretend this isn’t happening. ‘I wanted to surprise you?’ Looking past him, you spot two other Autobots watching curiously. His actual body leaning around the wall with them as he and the avatar both lift a hand in the same goofy wave. “Are you okay?” You ask, embarrassedly pointing down and his smile becomes even more strained.
Awwww! Jackie’s so excited and impulsive, I’m sure that won’t backfire
Soft AU- Date
Wheeljack x Reader
• ‘I don’t know about the lab coat,’ Mirage mutters, flicking his servos at him and Wheeljack smoothes down the collar of the coat and the avatar’s fingers linger. Registering the illusion of sensation, that he can feel the material. “What’s wrong with it? I’m a scientist,” he says, frowning at the other mech and Mirage just levels a long suffering look at Hound. “Humans dress like this,” he adds defensively, because it’s apparent from their expressions they’re about to gang up on him. What’s wrong with looking professional? Personally he thinks his avatar looks distinguished.
• ‘In movies, they do,’ Mirage grumbles, eyeing him until he fidgets. ‘But you’re taking your human on a date. Don’t you want to look nice for them?’ Yes? At a loss, he looks over at Hound and the other mech grimaces. Avatar’s shoulders slumping, he sighs. “Alright,” he says, reluctantly letting the other two make adjustments to his avatar, because he definitely wants this to go well. To not embarrass you. What would it be like to walk down a human street with you without other humans recoiling? To pretend.
• Grabbing a cart from the supply room, you tug it over to the locked cabinet of prepped energon and unlock the gate. Stepping up on the platform they’re stored on, you inhale slowly and work to shimmy one over onto your cart without tipping it over. Your arms and back are aching by the time you get it to the edge of the platform and someone touches you in the middle of your back to startle you. Reeling away, eyes wide, you stare at some guy you’ve never seen before and he’s grabbing you around the middle to keep you from pitching off the platform.
• “There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you,” he says as you go rigid. “Here, let me help you down.” And you’re so soft. It’s not like he hadn’t known that already, but it hits different with the avatar. Lifting you, your eyes go wide and you suck in a sharp breath. Little hands grabbing his. Before you dig your blunt little nails into him, the pain a surprise as the avatar’s sensory nets register it. ‘Let go of me,’ you snarl and his mouth opens, realizing you don’t know him like this. That’s right, hadn’t Thundercracker’s human panicked, too? “No, see it’s okay. You know me.” Grip tightening so he doesn’t accidentally drop you when you start squirming, he’s not sure what he’s doing wrong. He’s not hurting you. You’re hurting him though, clawing at his hands before you knee him.
• “How do you think it’s going?” Hound asks and they both wince at a human screaming ‘help’ right before they see you running out of the supply room. ‘Yeah, that’s about what I expected,’ Mirage mutters as they watch Wheeljack stumble out and fall to his knees, cupping himself. “Come on,” Hound says, venting tiredly as he walks over to the avatar. “Did you even tell them who you were?” The other Autobot only whines softly, slowly falling over and curling into a ball. ‘Maybe we should dull the pain receptors,’ Mirage suggests as Wheeljack wheezes.
Thinking of MTMTE Megatron learning about the purrito and trying to wrap his human in a blanket to calm them down.. but who wouldn't relax when wrapped around a toasty blanket?
🤣 he would
Float
MTMTE Megatron x Reader
• Flailing and only managing to spin yourself sickeningly end over end, you’re hyperventilating. Because in movies, zero gravity looks fun. The reality? You’re panicking and absolutely terrified that you’re going to throw up and just end up floating in your own sick. Or drowning in it. And you yelp when a blanket gets thrown on you like a net and big hands roll you up in the material. Tucking you against a warm chassis. Squirming as your heart races, a big servo shifts a fold in the blanket away from your face and you stare wide eyed at Megatron.
• Relaxing as you tremble in his grip, bundling you up so you didn’t hurt yourself thrashing around had been the best he could come up with. Can feel your heart racing against boos servos through the blanket, hear your ragged breathing as he draws his legs up, drifting. “The others are already working to get the gravity back, but they need to locate and secure the other humans first, little one,” he says, trying to reassure you. And your eyes dart around behind him. Noticing that you’re both currently upside down as you make a soft sound of distress.
• “Eyes on me. Just me,” he growls seriously, a servo pressing against your cheek to turn your face more toward him and you smile weakly. “I’ve got you.” Swallowing, you focus on his red optics as your heart pounds. “Breathe.” Exhaling shakily, you smile weakly, letting the deep rumble of his voice spill into you. ‘Did you know rich people pay crazy amounts of money to experience zero g for a few seconds?’ You manage and he reaches back almost absently with a free hand to catch at a door to anchor himself. Still upside down and apparently unbothered by that fact.
• “Personally, I’m not loving it,” you say with a little laugh that makes him smile. ‘Not a thrill seeker?’ He asks and you huff out a laugh. “Not by choice.” Venting softly as guilt whispers through him, he wonders if a part of you is still homesick. You hadn’t chosen to come here. To live in space on a ship with aliens. But you’d adapted quickly. Chose to smile and make the best of it. This is the first time he’s seen you really panicking, though. Making him wonder if it’s been there just under the surface this whole time.
• He’s silent and you realize how he took your words. Wiggling in the blanket burrito he’s cocooned you in, he’s got it so snug you can’t get your arm free to reach for him. So you just awkwardly lean your forehead against his chassis. “I don’t regret meeting you or loving you,” you tell him and his rumbling deepens to drain away the last of your tension. “If I could go back and actually choose, I’d choose to end up here with you every time.” Wouldn’t hesitate. Because this warmth between you and him, this relationship? It feels more like home than Earth ever did.
Shockwave: Beloved I'm holding your bush as I say this, you need to stop crawling so far into the vents. It's not safe
S/O: I know, I know, I hear- you're holding my what
Shockwave would be very adamant on not letting you shave your bush bare. Trimming is fine and sometimes necessary (if you’ve ever gotten a pube stuck in the elastic of your underwear you know) but he would not be okay with you shaving yourself bare. Pubic hair is there to keep your genitals safe and protect the sensitive skin. You can argue all you want but Shockwave is not going to let you go bare.
Shockwave has read up on proper human care. You live such a luxurious life under him because him lacking in any part of your care would be illogical. He tracks all of your vitals, moods, and medicines to make sure you are at your utmost health.
Hi Revel! I don’t know if anyone’s requested this yet but I could not stop thing abt it lol. For the soft au, and for any character, could you write the caretaker dressing up in a similar style (like wearing their bots colors) to their assigned cybertronian/transformer? I think that’d be so cute! (And chaotic lol)
This would probably start a trend amongst both factions and trying to get their humans to dress up, either by persuasion or force teehee-
Please don’t feel rushed to get to this one, and I hope you have a lovely rest of your day!
Oh, I love this!
Soft AU- Colors
Wheeljack x Reader
• Looking up from scribbling notes for an idea at the sound of your cart, he stares as his vocal indicators flicker. Because that’s not your normal coverings. Doesn’t know what to say as you meet his optics and flush. Those are his colors. Not just his colors, his patterns emblazoned on your coverings. Like you’re declaring your claim on him. Want everyone to see you and know you’re his.
• Embarrassed as he just stares, you spread your arms and do an awkward, little shuffling spin like you’re showing off your new coveralls. Because this is a new level of embarrassment they’ve visited on you. Making you twinsies with your assigned bot. And you can’t tell what he’s thinking as his vocal indicators slowly flash pink. “This okay? It won’t embarrass you, right?” You ask, wanting him to say something.
• “Er, no,” he manages, plating lifting and settling slightly. “It won’t embarrass me.” Honestly, he’s not sure what to make of it. Of you wearing his colors like a declaration. It’s kind of adorable, really. Flustered as he watches you smooth your palms down your coverings, he wonders if this is like claiming to your people. A way of showing others that you’re his. That you want only him.
• “Really?” You blurt, surprised and he fidgets slightly, vocal indicators get slightly redder. Wait. Is he embarrassed? He just said he wasn’t, but now he’s refusing to meet your eyes. “You’re okay with me wearing your colors?” You ask moving closer and he looks away, his mask hiding most of his face, but those vocal indicators panels? They’re glowing red.
• “Why wouldn’t I be? You can wear my colors if you want to,” he mutters, aware that you’re grinning at him. Can’t really just say that you wearing his colors is a turn on. That he likes it. Makes him feel possessive in a way that’s almost uncomfortable. That feels dangerous. Looking away, he fidgets with his stylus, nervously tapping at his datapad screen as you set up for his bath. Keeps glancing at you, unable to stop himself as his instincts scream that you’re his. That you want to be his.
• “Well?” You ask, arms slightly out as you do a little turn for him and the low, rumbling purr of engine noise that escapes him is so satisfying. Apparently he likes you in his colors. His visor brightening as his head tilts. Flushing, you step closer. “Oh? So you approve?” You tease and he reaches for you, rumbling in question when you dance out of reach of the mass displaced mech. And that rumbling shifts to an almost aggressive growl as he follows you.
• “Playing?” He asks as you grin mischievously and keep backing away when you both know he’s much faster than you are. That he’s letting you evade him. Wants to see what you do. Slowly stalking you as you grin, you back yourself into a wall and he braces a hand beside you, leaning down. “Caught,” he growls as you reach up and he bends down to obligingly let you loop your arms around his neck.
• “You really think I want to get away?” You laugh as he leans his head down to rest his helm against your forehead. Nudging you as you smile. ‘Do you?’ He growls, mask retracting. Feel the warm air wash across your face when he vents softly against you. “You know I don’t.” Not since that first day. His arms come around you and your feet leave the ground as he tugs you more firmly against him.
• “Mine?” He asks even though he knows the answer. Needs to hear it, though. For you to tell him. ‘Always,’ you whisper and his head lowers, mouth sliding against yours. Hadn’t expected this. Expected you, but he’d felt your thoughts washing into him, your field needling him and he’d been lost. Bonding you almost immediately. Claiming what was offered. A chance for home. For a future.
• Wrapping your legs around his waist, he growls and cups your butt. Know the new coveralls probably aren’t going to last long. That he tends to rip things when he gets too excited. You’ve gone through so many outfits that way, but you can’t really be too mad at him. Because honestly? Watching the reserved mech lose control is just delicious.
Do you think any of the bots in the Soft AU would accidentally get their spikes pressurized before confessing to their caretaker? Like these poor guys are holding onto dear life, they'd be so embarrassed to pop a boner the size of a human. 😭
🤣 I can see a few of them having that sort of issue 🔞 🌶️
TFP Soft
Shockwave x Reader
• There’s something he’s missing. Already tested several samples of the energon the humans are providing them to check for chemical agents. And it’s untampered with, so maybe it’s the organics themselves? Some sort of pheromone? Mind control? There has to be a logical reason why so many rational mechs have succumbed and become infatuated with the humans. So he’d demanded his own potential conjunx, needing to get to the bottom of this. To get first hand experience with the phenomena.
• Entering your assigned mech’s stall, you stare up at the giant, that single baleful optic focusing on you as you force a smile. “Good afternoon, sir. I’m here to care for you.” And he just stares to make you slightly nervous as you wrestle his energon barrel down from your cart and risk a glance to confirm there’s no mouth on that weird looking head. How does he drink this stuff without a mouth. Does he have a fuel tank like a car somewhere? Maybe you should have brought a funnel? Startling when he kneels, his one big hand planted far too close, he leans over you and vents slowly. “Do you want your bath first?” You ask nervously. Is he sniffing you?
• Rumbling as you dart to the other side of your cart, he considers your alien scent. Doesn’t feel any overwhelming need to declare you his conjunx, so maybe it isn’t pheromones? Mind control, then? Watching you dump soap into a bucket, he pulls a scanner from subspace and runs it over you. Antenna flicking when you flinch as soon as you notice the scanner, he uses his cannon to block you from running away. “Um, sir?” Such a skittish thing. Could it just be some sort of mass delusion? Something unique about this world that alters their processors? Makes them believe crazy things?
• What’s he doing? Grimacing, you add water to your bucket and try to ignore whatever he’s doing. Why’d you have to get a weird one? Dipping a sponge in your soapy water, you just want to get this over with. “Ready for your bath?” You ask, voice strained and he just sits on the concrete floor instead of on his bench, his antenna flicking back. Inhaling, you walk over and start scrubbing his hip and waist, trying to pretend he’s a weird looking car, not a giant alien.
• Watching you move to stand between his thighs to scrub him, he rumbles. Your hands do feel nice, the act of bathing him coinciding with normal behavior between bonded conjunxes. It can’t be that simple, can it? Surely not. It’s illogical to respond to organic aliens like a potential conjunx just because you’re doing things a conjunx would. No mech would respond so readily to something so simple or fixate like the affected mechs have no matter how good it feels. Grunting in surprise when you get at the seams of his inner thigh, you flinch back when his spike releases and pressurizes. “Fascinating,” he growls as you make a funny, strangled sound.
• Aware of Optimus and several others at the table staring at him, he keeps sliding two servos up and down your back as you sprawl across the forearm plating of his other arm. Smiling faintly when you make a noise and shudder when he finds a spot you apparently like. Can understand why so many of the others are enamored with humans. You’re adorable. Rumbling as his head lifts, his smile dares them to say he can’t have you here. And the fact that Prowl looks like he might literally blow a gasket just makes it even better. “Problem?” He asks innocently.
• Probably should be doing your job and at least trying to pay attention to what the aliens are talking about, but it’s hard to focus on anything beyond those big servos methodically finding and working every knot out. Resting your cheek on his arm and feeling his internal systems humming through you, you’re only dimly aware of one of the others delicately questioning why you’re here. And Roller’s laugh sinks into you as those servos edge higher between your shoulder blades and you groan.
• Trying to not lose it at the look on Prowl’s face and Ratchet’s resigned exhaustion, he nudges one of your arms and you just let it dangle and swing. Hadn’t realized humans could go so boneless, but it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen. And they’d asked him here needing his skills and opinion, so they’re going to have to deal with him bringing you along. It’s just a bonus to antagonize Prowl. Though, Kup looks like he might lose it laughing before Prowl starts snarling. Ultra Magnus just looks like he’s in physical pain.
• Not that surprised when the Cybertronians swap to their language, you wiggle slightly into a more comfortable position, letting the big mech mess with you like you’re his own personal stress toy. Can get on board with alien world domination if it means playing pampered pet and getting massages any time you want. Doubt that’s what they’re talking about, but who knows. And you’re almost zoned out and asleep when he abruptly stops. Head lifting as you blink owlishly up at him, you watch him grab his weird, alien juice box and drink, his optics amused.
• Primus, you look so indignant that he stopped and his spark aches with it. Yeah, he’s getting why so many Cybertronians are going all in on human conjunxes. You’re soft, warm, and like to cuddle. Setting his drink down, he very carefully bops you on the nose with a servo and you lean away, sliding off his arm with a startled noise and he has to catch you. Cradling your little form against his chassis in a hand, he leans back in his chair as Prowl vents angrily. Staring the other mech down, he slides a servo against your back and you relax against him again, hiding your face against the mesh of his neck.
I got a new friend to give me moral support whenever I stream. I thought you'd appreciate him hehe. 🫶
His color palette is so gorgeous but he was painful to transform. I wonder if a reader that saw these colors on him would drool too haha.
Cute! 💕 Emo Roddy! (And yes, I do know this isn’t how Roddy’s colors changed in canon and that he chose his new colors as a symbol, but shh. I just wanted to write some drama and this was my first thought about what might have happened before I read the issue with his color change)
Soft AU- What if- Colors
Rodimus x Reader
• You’re running before you can stop and think better of it, just worried that someone might have been hurt in the blast. At least, you think it was an explosion anyway. You’d seen the fireball, heard the whoosh of it as klaxons went off everywhere. Just a huge flash of heat and light and then gone. Slowing as Inferno tears by, siren going as he swings his boom around and starts putting out fires, you stare at the epicenter of the blast. At your assigned mech, his plating raised slightly and those big hands in fists at his sides. Completely different from the laid back mech you’re used to. Even his paint is different.
• Venting raggedly as he waits for the aftermath, for Optimus’s disappointment. Or worse, Kup’s. Because he’d lost it. Standing in the center of the circle of scorched concrete, his hands flex. And he’s afraid to look up. Doesn’t want to see the damage done. To see if Skywarp managed to teleport away fast enough. Feels like a sparkling again, out of control and scared. Angry. “Roddy?” Head lifting at the sound of your voice, he stares. At you wearing his colors. Except those aren’t his colors anymore, are they?
• That is him. You’re sure of it. Just different, his reds and yellows gone. Replaced by somber purples and blues. Colors that look more like what the Decepticons sport than his faction, but you can see flashes of sunset paint left in places. And familiar optics meet your eyes, erasing the last of your doubts. Moving closer, you can feel the heat radiating off of him like you’re standing too close to a fire and he retreats a step, expression guarded. “Roddy?” Where’s your roguish smile? Your just kidding laugh you’re so used to? What happened?
• “Don’t,” he growls, staring at you in his colors. His right colors instead of this. Ugly, dark Decepticon colors. Colors he’d covered up and hid. And you stop short, little face upturned. Making it so much worse that you finally decided. That you chose him, because why else would you be wearing his colors and patterns? Spark aching as you inhale slowly, part of him wants to snarl at you. Drive you away. Doesn’t want you to see this him. To see his truth. ‘Okay. I won’t come any closer if you don’t want me to, but can we talk?’
• Head lifting, he sees the crowd that’s gathering. Can hear the whispering as his spark constricts. Knows what they’re thinking. That he’s dangerous. Out of control. Can’t answer you, staring at those optics watching him. Judging. At friends that don’t look so friendly anymore as his plating lifts slightly. “Roddy, talk to me,” you say and your voice is soft, familiar. Pulls his attention your way. Why aren’t you abandoning him? But maybe his colors don’t matter to you? Maybe there’s no stigma to his paint in your eyes and that’s a shockingly freeing thought that helps rein him in. That you don’t care what color his paint is.
Ooh miss Revel ma'am, if you knew how much your stories mean to me. It's my way of unwinding before bed after a long day, skin care may be damned but sleepy transformers time is sacred. I'm sure others feel the same 🧡✨
Awww! Thank you! I’m glad you guys like my silly stories! Guess who just realized Metal Cardbot has its own mini model kits ala Blokees?
Soft AU-Colors
Fort Max x Reader
• It’s a shock, seeing you wearing coverings in his colors, his patterns. That you’ve decided. Chosen him. Spark thrumming in his chassis, he slowly pushes up from the bench he’d been sitting on while waiting for you. And you smile up at him, arms slightly out from your body like you want him to notice. Servos flexing, he needs to pick you up. Hold your little frame in his hands. “What do you think?” You ask and he wonders if you decided he was taking too long to commit. If you wanted him to mark you, to give you a conjunx gift. If this is a bold hint.
• “You’re as radiant as ever,” he rumbles seriously, staring at you and you wonder if it’s weird seeing you in his colors. Your best guess is that the new coveralls are an attempt to keep caretakers already assigned to Cybertronians from being grabbed by aliens without humans caring for them. Because people do get yoinked. Often. Know one of the HR people and a guard had been grabbed by different mechs that decided they didn’t want to wait for a caretaker to be assigned to them.
• “It’s not weird, right?” You ask as you start prepping soap for his bath and the urge to scoop up your little form is nearly overwhelming. To feel the soft warmth of you, the quick beat of your heart. The illicit hum of your unguarded field. ‘No,’ he makes himself say. If anything, it’s an honor he’s not sure he’s worthy of. Hears his fans cycle on as he heats and he rumbles awkwardly. Unsure what to say or do. What it is you want him to do.
• “After, maybe we could share a meal. Talk,” he finally says and you look over your shoulder at him. Realizing the big mech might be lonely as you grab your bucket of soapy water. “I know so little about you.” Ah. Yeah, you suppose it must be a bit awkward to have a stranger giving him a sponge bath and detailing him daily while knowing nothing about them. ‘Sure. I’d like that,’ you reply with a shrug, arms straining as you lift the bucket and walk it closer while trying to not soak your boots and coverall legs.
• Feeling guilty because you’ve been courting him, trying to win him over, to get to know him as a potential conjunx and he’s given you nothing in return. Offered you little in the way of real conversation because he didn’t want to encourage you. Didn’t want you to get your hopes up. Felt that this wasn’t something meant for him. That anything beyond his duties, a real life, wasn’t something he was allowed. Still isn’t sure, but you make him want more.
Living in a tropical country sounds great until summer rolls in and suddenly you're relocated in the pits of hell... this heat is killing me and our ac decides to break down and now my dog is also going thru it... her cooling mat got less cool in under an hour then she pushed it aside to lie on the floor instead 😅
The bots always run hot so I'm just imagining a lot of peeps running from their bots attempt to snuggle cause its hot asf (Roddy especially would be the least popular mech during Summer.. its a curse he has to accept considering he's the most popular during winter)
Aww poor little pupper!
Soft AU- Heat
Rodimus x Reader
• “I think I hate them both,” Whirl growls, pincers opening and closing, and Rodimus clenches his jaw, forcing a smile and refusing to give into the urge to agree. Because those two are the only Cybertronians the humans aren’t actively avoiding with the temperatures outside so high. Namely Heatwave and Inferno, the two playing at being living sprinklers for the humans and filling the little plastic “kiddie” pools as you’d called them that several of the caretakers had purchased and spread out on the dorm lawn.
• It’s not exactly dignified, knees up to your chest sitting in a tiny plastic pool only deep enough that your butt and feet are wet, but it’s better than nothing. Much better than the dorms since the unit is out right now and it’s stuffy and hot inside. Sighing as one of the mechs swings slightly to make it rain over you and several other caretakers, you lazily salute him with your drink and try to remember which one’s which. The fact that they’re both red and transform into firetrucks isn’t helping. And wiggling slightly to try to get another inch of you in the water, you notice the mournful looking crowd of mechs lingering at the edge of the low wall marking the end of the dorm lawn.
• Meeting your optics, he waits for you to gesture for him to come over. And you lift a hand to cheerfully wave instead. Like you have no idea what you’re doing to him right now. What you’re wearing certainly isn’t helping. You and the rest of the caretakers showing a lot more skin than normal as you lounge in the sun. “Do you think maybe they can’t regulate their own body temperatures?” Misfire asks and Rodimus grimaces, noticing a couple of Decepticons have wandered over to watch. ‘They’re not cold blooded,’ First Aid mutters and Rodimus nods like he knew that.
• Yeah, that’s a lot of really forlorn looking aliens. You’re honestly just surprised none of them have decided to crash the pool party. Because you’re pretty sure as soon as one does, they all will. Making the fact that they’re somewhat behaving even more unusual. And it’s a good thing none of them have figured out the art of puppy eyes or it would be over. Meeting Rodimus’s optics, he smiles hopefully and you can feel your resolve wavering.
• You smile quickly hiding it, but he still saw it. And that’s his in he was waiting for. Stepping over the wall, he’s striding across the lawn, hearing another Autobot hissing his name. Sure a few of the humans are warily sitting up, but he ignores them heading straight for you. Sitting down on the grass beside your little pool, he flashes his most charming smile. “Think I could fit in there if I mass shift? Might have to get creative, but I think I could make it work,” he says right before Heatwave growls and hoses him in the face.
Do you think Cybertronians are magnetic? Or are only some magnetic, like fridges. Imagine the different humans experimenting with their assigned cybertronian with different fridge magnets, floating when it sticks. How do the cubertronians feel about it? For the ones who didn’t stick, would they consent to a sticker instead, or is that too permanent?
I imagine this with soft AU Bumblebee, but would also love to see where your head goes with it !
Ooh! I can honestly see a few Cybertronians sporting those family decals after sparking their partner with the misguided assumption that those things are like tattooing a loved one’s name on yourself. None of the humans can bring themselves to point out how cheesy they are. Especially when you’ve got a bigger mech with a reputation like Motormaster with a robot decal, an adult human decal, and then little bot decals in a row. No one’s going to dare snicker. Magnets, though. I image that those affect fields. That they can feel the disruption. It’s acute and straddles the line between unpleasant and delicious- think playing with hot wax or an ice cube on a partner’s body
Soft AU- Field
Bumblebee x Reader
• “Wait, wait,” he groans, head thumping back against the berth and you go still as his fans cycle higher. ‘Do you want me to stop?’ You ask and he shakes his head. “Just, just give me a klik.” Had slapped a magnetic bumpersticker on his thigh as a joke, but you’d been the one flustered when he’d groaned and his knee almost buckled. Because apparently the sensation of it muddying his field isn’t quite unpleasant to him. So you’d gotten a small, slightly stronger magnet to experiment with.
• “Okay,” he growls, venting raggedly as you straddle him. And he shudders when you skate the magnet over him, not letting it actually touch his plating. But he can feel the whorls of the magnetic field rippling over him, not enough to be painful, but enough to feel strange as it interacts with his field. Feels almost illicit. ‘Are you sure it doesn’t hurt?’ You ask and his jaw clenches. Unsure how to explain that it doesn’t exactly hurt, but it’s close to being uncomfortable. “Feels kind of good,” he mumbles, embarrassed as he rests a hand on your hip.
• Aware that you probably shouldn’t be doing this with him, you still don’t stop. Teasing him as you scoot down on his thighs and run the magnet lower. Listening to his engine growl and rumble under you. “There. Right there,” he grunts, hips lifting slightly and sink your teeth into your bottom lip, running the magnet against his hip near his modesty plating. It had been innocent when you’d just been running it over his arms and chassis, watching in fascination as his plating shifted in response, but this is different. Know exactly what you’re doing.
• Venting loudly as his frame strains and trembles, he should stop you. Put an end to this no matter how good it feels. Doubts you have any real clue what you’re doing to him right now. The things he’d like to do to you. Draping an arm across his face as he barely resists the urge to sink his denta into his fist, he knows the others would probably be horrified with him right now. Or disappointed. Aching as you shift on him and start to run the magnet back up, his servos trace up your side, feeling the rough material of your coveralls.
• You’re playing with fire wanting to get burned and you know it. Embarrassed even as you want to push for more. To see how far you can go before you get a rise out of him. Making yourself slide the magnet up instead of playing it over his modesty plating, you wonder what he’d do if you did go lower. You’ve heard about a few caretakers being intimate with their assigned mechs. Know it’s possible, but what if he just wants to stay friends? He is letting you do this, though. So maybe he’s not happy in the friend zone, either. It’s that uncertainty and fear of rejection that keeps you from trying, though.
Edit: was informed that isn’t feasible, but baking soda ice cubes or old fashioned lye soap would work on them
Hey Revel!!!!
Could you write some fluffy friends to lovers with Rodimus??? I feel like the world is having a Rodimus drought, but I'm the only one suffering from it.
Ignore this if you're busy or if you just don't feel up to it! Ilysm!!!!!! 🧡
Sure! Got a proof pic of a test Crybaby pin. Still waiting on the other three designs to ship as well.
Soft AU- Home
Rodimus x Reader
• Laughing as his hands steady you, the tips of his servos brush your hips and back. “You didn’t say that,” you insist, standing on his thigh to wash his chassis. “There’s no way.” And he grins crookedly as you work the wash cloth into a seam. “You did! What did Mags say?” You demand, smacking a palm against him in delight as you start to grin back. One of his servos slides over the curve of your butt and lingers against your lower back. Steadying you since his thigh is wet and soapy. That’s all.
• “I thought he was going to short out something in his processor,” he admits, leaning back slightly with an overly dramatic gasp, his servos pressed to his chassis as he mimes righteous indignation. And your shoulders shake with laughter as his other hand lingers against your back. ‘I wish I could have seen his face,’ you say, using the heel of your palm to wipe at your eyes. “He just makes it so easy.” Loves the sound of your laughter, that you’re not so uptight that you can’t laugh. Find a little joy in silly things with him. How long has it been since he’d had a friend to joke with? Someone who didn’t take everything so seriously? Knows they were at war, but he needs to smile, to laugh or it feels like the stress will break him.
• “You should lay off the poor mech,” you say and his servos shift against you again. Wish he wouldn’t do that. Know he doesn’t realize how it aches through you when he touches you like a lover. When you want more than to just be his friend, but he seems perfectly happy with the status quo. What if you push for more and it ruins what you already have? Don’t want to lose a friend, so you’re resigned to wanting something you can’t have. Feeling the crush you have on your best friend growing every day. Becoming awkward and painful.
• “Hey, if I didn’t knock him down a peg every so often by being me, just think of how unbearable he’d get,” he protests trying to look innocent, though he’s pretty sure he ruins it when you start laughing all over again. ‘You’re awful,’ you breathe, still smiling. “I’m a delight.” What would you say if he kissed you? Would you laugh it off. Think it’s only him being him? Would you kiss him back? Would it be weird? Venting deeply, his head lowers and bumps yours. Feels you lay a hand on his face, pushing. ‘Roddy, get off. You’re too heavy,’ you say, backing up and he cups his hand around you when your boot slides. Catching you before you can fall so you sprawl in his palm, your eyes wide.
• He’s just staring down at you as you look up at him, heart racing. That awkward longing lifts through you until you feel breathless with it. Imagining him mass shifting, your hand in his. Innocent, normal things. Couple things. Ones you desperately want. And it feels like he must know. That you’re so obviously in love with him that everyone must know. Embarrassed because he’s not smiling now, you push up to sit in his hand, flustered. Falling on your elbow when he lifts you and presses you against his face, his lips brushing your belly and thighs as your heart hammers in your chest, feeling everything shift when he makes a low noise against you.
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