#transformer x Cybertronian reader

[tinydefector]

hello, can you do, Yandere Cyclonus x Cybertronian reader x Yandere Tailgate, where the three are conjux endura, and Cyclonus and Tailgate try to get the reader pregnant, Kink breeding

Sparking grounds

Cyclonus x Cybertronian reader x Tailgate

Work count: 1.2k

Warnings: smut, hand jobs, breeding kink, possessive partners

_____________

Soft optics linger on both Tailgate and Cyclonus as the Two Bots block the door. "Hello, sweetsparks, what are you both up to?" They ask while subtly while trying to sneak past them. Red optics narrowed dangerously upon their form. Cyclonus growled low as Tailgate paced the threshold of the room, his own optics lingering on their Conjunx. 

When they try to make a bolt for the door, Cyclonus is the one to grab them by the waist lifting and spinning them to face Tailgate "Escaping our chambers after repeated warnings was poor judgement, Conjunx." Cyclonus grumbles against the back of their helm. He massagea the cabling and joints between their  plating with gentle digits. "You know you shouldn't be up yet," he whispers.

 Tailgate chirped in agreement, servos moving to grip their hip plating as he pressed up against them, pinning the bot between the Seeker and Minibot. "We only you at your best, sweetspark! Your well-being is very important. Carrying will tax your frame, so you must rest. " His visor brightened beseechingly above his faceplate. 

Both bots' servos greedily press against their carrier chamber, pushing and pulling against the framework of their body, earning small whines from them. Cyclonus loomed over their pliant form, scarlet optics afire. "You will return to berth now," he commanded, field surrounding them. Tailgate twittered anxiously as he massaged their frame. "Please, sweetspark. We can have you straining yourself." His field meshed protectively with Cyclonus."The Decepticon rumbled in approval, brushing kisses upon their supple lip plating as he tilted their helm back to meet him. "We can't have you wandering while we wait for your chamber to take." He purrs against their lips. 

They nearly moan out as Tailgate begins grinding against their interface panel. "Boys, as much as I'd love to stay in berth all day, I need to fuel, I also need to stretch, i cant stay in berth all day for days on end" they whine while pressing a soft kiss to Tailgate's helm. They nearly squeal when Cyclonus grabs them. A whine leaves them as Cyclonus nips at their neck cabling. The two mech move to place their Conjunx on the berth. They giggle as the two bots press against their body. A soft moan leaves their lips as Cyclonus and Tailgate lock them between theirs bodies. 

Interface panel snapping open for the two mechs leaking a mix of lubricant and a mix of transfluid from all three. Tailgate's digits delve in quickly running over the nodes of their valve and across their leaking spike. They arch into his touch as moans begin to fall from their lips. A deep Rumble leaves Cyclonus, low in approval, he nipped fierce affection upon supple cabling under plating, grinding his own interface panel against their form. His protocols shrieked triumph as they lay in submission between them. Tailgate nuzzling sweet nothings against feverish armour as his digits sink into the dripping heat of their valve.

 "There there, no more fretful wandering, sweetspark, let us fill you full again," he soothed, tracing delicate seams in soft promise of another session of breeding. Cyclonus rolled his prominent array flush to pulsing panels, talons holding them steady. "We shall fuel and exercise your frame together, as is proper as your Conjunx's," he vowed, thick cable pressurizing to blunt heat against weeping seals. Tailgate hums in agreement, spike surging thick readiness at the addictive scents of his aroused partners.

Cries leave them as bot mechs press their rigid lengths in. Tailgate kissed away the choked cries as the two thrust in slowly, locking their forms together. He peppers kisses across their form, worshipping every paint speck, dint and scratch across their frame. "Will make such a good carrier for us," he calls out. Deep whines leave them as they both sink into their valve, body clenching tightly around their spikes. Their own spike rubs against Tailgate's tanks with each deep thrust from their lover's. Their head leans back into Cyclonus' shoulder plating.

 A shuddering cry spilled from overwhelmed lips from the bot pinned helplessly between Tailgate and Cyclonus' relentless efforts. Cyclonus snarled fierce approval into heaving necklines, increasing merciless tempo, grinding deeply into their valve. His taloned hands massaged rapid nodes of their spike, smeering transfluid across Tailgate's midsection, twisting and tugging against their spike as Tailgate's digits work the nodes of thier valve, dancing across them and playing them like he is the only one who knows how to make them sing.Their twitching spikehead spurts bright pink fluid against clenched abdominal cables in sensual counterpoint swelling rapture beyond bearing. Their valve clenching desperately tried to milk them both for every drop as they rut into them.

"Overload for us, sweet carrier," Cyclonus commanded against kiss-bruised lips, surging rigid pistons to nestle against hidden nodes, their vision fading from pleasure as their visual system shuts down. Tailgate keened agreement, frame cantering needfully into them. "Our carrier, going to swell you with our sparkling, our  Conjunx," he moans out against their lipsWhen shattering ecstasy claimed them with sinful sob, the two mech drank in their shuttering form with violent greed, both picking up their pace, slamming into the bot pinned between them. More moans and whines fall from their lips as they arch into their lovers' touch. They cup Tailgate's helm kissing him deeply. They groan loudly as they grind back into Cyclonus. "Primus, please," they whine out loudly as the two mech continue rutting into them. " Cyclonus,  Tailgate, please." they cry out, face pressing into Tailgate's shoulder, their overload hits hard. 

Transfluid gushes from them as they continue to buck against both seeker and minibot. Cyclonus lets out a snarl as he snaps his hips a few more times before burning himself to the hilt. He eagerly overloads within them, painting their chamber with his release. Tailgate follows quickly, mumbling about how beautiful of a carrier their sweet Conjunx will be. The three bots lay together on the berth, venting heavily as they press closer together. Neither Cyclonus nor Tailgate pull away, keeping their lover plugged and full with their transfluid. "Don't move," Cyclonus growled against their audial processor.

Little whines leave them, but they settle against him as Tailgate peppers kisses across their face. "So good for us, Sweetspark, going to have you sparked soon enough" he coos. "You two aren't planning on letting out of berth, are you?" They whine loudly in playful annoyance. It earns another growl from Cyclonus and a small smack to their backside from Tailgate. "No moving, we have to make sure you're nice and full," he states. They sigh softly but snuggle into their Conjunx's recharge, slowly catching up to them after their third round of interfacing that cycle.

#transformers #transformers x reader #transformer x Cybertronian reader #transformers idw #transformers lost light #valveplug #cyclonus x reader #cyclonus idw #mtmte cyclonus #transformers cyclonus #cyclonus #tailgate #tailgate transformers #mtmte tailgate #idw tailgate #mtmte transformers #mtmte #tf mtmte #transformers mtmte #idw transformers #tf idw

[emelinstriker]

May you share your TFP Decepticon headcanons 👁️👁️

If you want specifics, then their domestic lives? (Or what one can achieve akin to a domestic life in time of war 💀)

I did NOT expect to see any ask regarding TFP- Or at least till I switch fandoms again- So like I can't really think of many X Reader headcanons right now. So I just wrote down like 3 for each. I'm also not quite sure how to condense domestic points, cuz I suck at general fluff when my hyperfixation is elsewhere- So sorry if these don't feel like they're really in the domestic direction fhgnfhg

Only doing some Decepticons though-

☆ ~ Headcanons ~ ☆

☆ Megatron

He do be a busy mech, so he doesn't have too much time on his servos. Therefore he cherishes it whenever he gets to have private moments with just his human and no interruptions.

Likes to carry you around on his shoulder pad- It just generally makes it safer for you, in his opinion, and more comforting for him.

Any that would merely look at you weirdly would face the wrath of Lord Megatron. You can tell him not to punish the other Cybertronian though. He does listen... sometimes.

☆ Starscream

Mans refusing to show affection towards you around other Decepticons, especially Megatron. But he's just melting around you when in private.

He prefers recharging with you lying on him. It's oddly soothing having his human on his chassis.

Tends to look for you as comfort whenever he had a bad day with Megatron.

☆ Soundwave

Despite the amount of work he does and how busy he is, he doesn't really fail at also paying attention to you. He's truly a multi-tasker.

Would let Laserbeak play with you though if his extra appendages and music can't keep you busy.

Very loving towards his human. He may not talk, but he uses emoticons on his visor to display how much he loves you.

☆ Shockwave

Just don't play with whatever materials he needs to conduct his experiments and you're good to go. Play with his antennae and ear fins while on his shoulder pad instead.

He gets easily distracted by his human. He knows it's illogical with the major size difference, and how he should just be able to ignore you. But he can't help it nor explain this phenomenon.

He also also can't explain why he has this urge to gently pat you with a digit.

☆ Knockout

While he does buff himself on his own, or has Breakdown help him, he does enjoy it when you're buffing him instead as well. Especially when he's in his alt mode.

Speaking of which, expect drive-in theater dates. Just don't get his interior dirty with snack crumbs.

Worries a lot about your health. If you're sick, he'll keep you close to him to make sure you're actually alright. But no kisses from him till you're no longer coughing and sneezing. He just buffed himself and doesn't need your sickly fluids on his frame.

☆ Predaking

Tends to pick up you up whenever he wants attention. You were talking to Steve? Nah, now you gotta give you giant mecha dragon pets and kisses.

He also enjoys carrying you around on his frame whenever he can. At least he won't have to look where he goes this way.

While he has to go on missions from time to time, it's not a common thing due to his value, so a lot of his time is spent protectively watching over his human.

#tfp x reader #transformers prime #headcanons #megatron x reader #starscream x reader #soundwave x reader #shockwave x reader #knockout x reader #predaking x reader #cybertronian x human #transformers x human

[cybertronian-reader-imagines]

How about someone who was recently turned into a Cybertronian and Team Prime tended to and comforted them? They have a lot of adjusting to do! 👀

TW: A bit of implied disassociation because, holy shit, suddenly you're a giant metal robot and that's kinda hard to wrap your newly non-organic brain around.

((Knock Out is here because there is not enough Autobot!Knock Out and I love him.))

Team Prime comforting Reader, who just got turned into a Cybertronian, would include...

Optimus reassures you from the first moment that you have a safe home with Team Prime, should you choose to stay with them. Of course, you do. He makes sure you have the time and space to adjust and be comfortable with your new body before jumping into anything. He's just there if you need him, which some days is more helpful than everyone's else's efforts to offer unsolicited advice right off the bat.

Bumblebee helps you adjust to having wheels by challenging you to races that double as training whenever possible. He is almost certainly going easy on you, but nobody ever tells you as much.

Bulkhead is the first to realize that maybe you just really need a damn hug right now, if only because he's not very good with words. He hugs you and reassured you that it will be okay, and you're amazed how warm and fuzzy you feel afterwards, even though you're fairly sure your new body doesn't actually feel such minute temperature changes.

Ratchet tries to be "comforting" by explaining how your new body works... in detail that goes way, WAY over your head. But eventually, you get him talking about Cybertron's history and culture, and realize that your two species aren't all that different after all, which helps more than an anatomy lesson ever could.

Smokescreen is quick to remind you that you don't have to go back to your boring human school/job/house/whatever. Depending on how much you liked/disliked your old life, this is either incredibly helpful or incredibly irritating. If you get upset with him though, he's quick to apologize, and it's hard not to be comforted by that well-meaning smile and a servo patting your shoulder.

Arcee might somehow be even more protective of you than she is of the humans - she knows what happens when bots overestimate how much they can handle, and she figures that's really easy to do when you go from being a tiny, fragile human to a giant robot. Sometimes it's hard to hear her remind you that you're still mortal, but she means well. "Okay Mom, I get it."

Wheeljack, like Bulkhead, isn't very good with words, but he's also not very good with affection. What he can do, however, is listen. He's there the first time you get frustrated with the rest of the Team - not because they truly did anything wrong, but because being cramped into a tiny base with people you've just met will irritate anyone - and he never breathes a word of what you vented to the others. The Wreckers had their spats too - he knows you'll all be cool at the end of the day.

Oh Primus help Ultra Magnus he doesn't have a comforting servo in his body, but at least he's honest about that. In fact, he's the best bot to go to when you're ready to have things less sugarcoated.

Knock Out doesn't understand what the fuss is about - why would anyone ever want to be a squishy, gross organic when they could be Cybertronian? Humans couldn't turn into cars, for one, and couldn't be polished. He gives you a fresh coat of paint and polish and tells you how much better you look now - it does help, in a way. Being able to pick out new paint makes you feel a little more like your new body is really your body.

But honestly? Your biggest comfort might just be Jack, Miko, and Raf, if only because they will remind you any time you so much as frown just how cool being a giant robot is. And then you remember, yeah, it is pretty cool, actually.

#EVERYONE is here! #platonic #x reader #tfp x reader #transformers x reader #maccadam #optimus #bumblebee #bulkhead #ratchet #smokescreen #arcee #wheeljack #ultra magnus #knock out #jack #miko #raf #cybertronian reader

[sometimes-you-write]

[ Look at my DNI before interacting with my blog, please ]

[ Transformers Animated, cybertronian!reader ]

Reader: How's the most beautiful bot in the universe doing?

Optimus: *smiling* I don't know, how are you?

Reader: *voice glitching* I'm fine.

[Alternate ending]

Reader: How's the most beautiful bot in the universe doing?

Optimus: *smiling* I don't know, how ar-

Bumblebee, from across the room: I'm doing great, thanks.

#my posts #transformers #transformers animated #tfa #transformers x reader #transformers animated x reader #tfa x reader #cybertronian reader #cybertronian!reader #optimus prime #tfa optimus prime #optimus x reader #optimus prime x reader #tfa optimus prime x reader #bumblebee #tfa bumblebee #incorrect quotes

[veryconnoisseurcherryblossom]

Predaking x Reader - Breeding.

(First time writing valveplug ever, please let me know if I got anything wrong/where I can improve. I also cross-posted on Ao3. Thanks!)

--------

“Mnngah… Pr-Predaking…” You moaned helplessly beneath the behemoth that was your Conjunx, your mate. You hear him growl into your audials, but you can barely focus on anything but his large, primary spike thrusting into you, all but piercing your gestational forge. His smaller, secondary spike rubs against your anterior node and belly with each thrust, the combined feeling of both drawing out desperate, whiny gasps.

“M-more, please more…!”

He chuckles above you, a warm ex-vent washing over your back. The room is almost unbearably hot, each vent you take barely doing anything to cool down your frame. In your internal HUD you see a warning about overheating, but you ignore it, turning off the warning system.

“Such a greedy little mate you are… Who am I to deny you?” Predaking begins to pick up speed, his thrusts becoming harder. You gasp and groan into the pillow, your tears soaking the plush cushion. Groans turn into squeals as your royal lover shifts your hips, changing your position ever so slightly, yet the ridges of his spike rub against your valve sensors in such a way that the renewed stimulation brings you closer to crashing, falling into euphoria.

“Predaking! Oh, oh Primus I’m- I’m going to-”

“Overload for me, my queen.”

Your scream reverberates around the cave, your frame shaking as you feel your calipers work feverishly on Predaking’s spike, all but trying to milk him of his transfluid. Not a moment later does he overload, spilling his seed deep inside of you and coating your chassis from his secondary spike. You shake in the berth, tired, sore, but oh so full.

Whimpering as he pulls himself out of you, you hear and feel him hum in approval, satisfied at the sight of your overfilled, puffy valve spilling his transfluid onto your berth. You can feel it leak down your tibulem, burning hot against your overheated frame.

“You will make a fine carrier, my queen.”

You sigh, content as you fall onto your side and roll onto your back. You tiredly bring your arms up, welcoming him for a hug with a near-delirious smile. He obliges without a word, wrapping his monstrously large arms around you and capturing your lips with his own, drawing you into a slow, lazy, loving kiss.

Pulling away, you look at Predaking with a bashful smile.

“One more time…? Just to make sure I’m sparked…” Predaking smirks, a rumbling chuckle emerging from him. His golden optics glow as he lines his spike up against your valve, drawing a mewl out of your vocal components as you feel his claw circle your over-stimmed anterior node.

“What a greedy little mate you are...”

#writing #valveplug #Predaking/Reader #PredakingxReader #Predaking x Reader #tfp predaking #transformers #reader insert #gn reader #cybertronian reader

[toomanybrainrots]

Request Swerve x Cybertronian S/O.

Their dynamic is pretty much Jessica and Roger Rabbit.

Roger Rabbit and Jessica Rabbit !!! Shsinskndknidn I love their dynamic plsss tall beautiful wife with small goofy husband?? Loev it so much and I hope I interpreted it good

Swerve with a Cybertronian S/O with the dynamic of Jessica and Roger Rabbit

Swerve is very smitten with you

Like, very smitten

I mean, have you seen yourself?? Goddamn was he lucky to have you as his conjunx, his CONJUNX

He’s always staring at you with the most heart eyes anyones have ever seen until he realizes you’ve stopped talking and is now staring back

He always looks so bashful whenever he looks away

You find it adorable that he still acts like this even though you’re already his conjunx

Swerve stared with a goofy smile as you talked, occasionally taking sips of your high grade. You always looked so beautiful whenever you talked, but you always looked beautiful.

Before he knew it, you had stopped talking and were now looking directly at him

Swerve quickly turned away to try, and probably fail, at hiding his blush. He had probably looked so ridiculous and goofy…

You were tempted to remind him you were his conjunx, but you decided to simply stay silent and smirk

He’s a bit goofy at times but you love him anyways

#I COULDN’T THINK OF ANYTHING 😭 #I DID NOT DO IT JUSTICE IM SORRY ANON #transformers #maccadam #maccadams #transformers x reader #x reader #x gender neutral reader #x cybertronian reader #swerve #tf swerve #swerve x reader

[i-starcreamed]

Since we all know megatron is ruthless when it comes to fighting, Can I get some HC's for tfp Megatron and what his expectations for his cybertronian child would be like if he had one? Any special treatment? Or expecting more from them than anyone else?

MEGATRON'S CHILD HCS

yayy more HCs

[ cybertronian child!reader familial bond, idk if this counts as x reader but leaving that in anyways.

Definitely feel like it’s a mixture of both

Does not let his child socialize with lower-status decepticons, at least without making sure you're bossing them around and that's it. Also certain specific bots, no

Wanna interact with Starscream? Too bad, they only get to see him if they coincidentally happen to be in the same room. No matter the universe tbh, they're banned from talking to him

Very supportive about teaching them how to fight for the deception cause, despite being insanely protective. Most likely will not just toss them onto the front lines but would like for them to know how to defend themselves and take down an autobot

They also get the best conditions for uhh, everything? Very much a spoiled child

Buut, he also expects more of them. They're the child of MEGATRON, LEADER OF THE DECEPTICONS AND CHAMPION? Of course, he's gonna have high expectations

he teaches them how to fight well but gets cocky with it. Yeah, he wants them to fight as good as him but not better. Will literally point out every little mistake when they're training too

If they're sparring with him i feel like they're still gonna get hurt, he calls it resistance training or something idk...

Expects them to take after the decepticons if he's ever killed btw. Like, starts training them for that as soon as they come into existence.

hits them with the "when im gone.." speech

If they sit on his throne when he's not in the room or away, he most likely knows but will let them get away with it :3

Bonus: When Megatron was high on dark energon you had to calm his delirious ass down like telling an old, confused man to take his meds.

Please take your meds Megatron, don't jump into that volcano

#transformers #transformers x reader #maccadam #megatron #megatron x reader #tfp x reader #tfp megatron #tfp megatron x reader #cybertronian reader #child reader #dad megatron idk

[cyberrose2001]

AYYYYYY! Do you remember that request I sent a while ago of the Ratchet x Fem reader? Ya know where Ratch gets to frag the reader to blow off some steam?

Reader is Cybertrionan btw if that's okay!

Stress Relief

TFP Ratchet x fem! cybertronian! reader

whoaaa you can tell I started this months ago eheh… apologies for the long wait I hope y’all can forgive me 👉🏼👈🏼

Warnings: oral, dom!ratchet

Word count: 517

18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

“I’ve been waiting all day for this,” Ratchet huffs, tossing you off his shoulder and onto the berth, “Too fraggin’ long, if you ask me.”

You refrain from making a smart aft comment about how he had actually been waiting all week, but you’re too preoccupied with how he’s pulling your hips closer to the edge of the berth.

It’s always the same with Ratchet. He would have a busy week (aka working his processor to near power down), barely seeing him all day, then apologise profusely for coming to berth late. And by that time, you’d already be in stasis, waking up to your frame gently tucked into his while he spoons you. It annoyed you, having to wait days; hell, even weeks sometimes before Ratchet had a chance to lay a digit on you.

But you’ve quickly learned throughout your relationship that the longer Ratchet goes without interface, the harder he fucks.

His digits are pressing into the seams of your hip plating, calculated and efficient with aeons of experience against your frame. A low moan escapes your throat as you feel your modesty panel easily click open. You’re already dripping wet at the anticipation, and it hasn’t gone unnoticed by Ratchet.

“Then why don’t you frag me then, hm?”

“Oh, I intend to,” Ratchet kneels on the ground, two servos keeping your thighs spread as his hot breath teases your valve, “Only if you can suppress your smart commentary and let me indulge in you first.”

You crane your neck as you watch his dermas latch onto your exterior node and subsequently throw it back against the berth with a clang as he starts sucking and flicking against your node. It’s electric and oh so sensitive as he scrapes it against his dentae.

“Oh, Ratchet.” A filthy mewl escapes your mouth, bringing a servo to his helm when he starts drawing slow circles with his glossa, “Please, I can’t- I need-“

“You need what, exactly?” Ratchet lifts his helm from your heat, and primus, your fluid already coats the lower half of his face in a pink sheen.

“Need your spike- ahhn.”

“What do you want me to do with my spike?” A harsh kiss to your abused node sends shivers up your back strut, which turns into clamping your thighs around his helm as he plunges his glossa into you.

“F-Frag… do you need to ask… nghh… so many questions?”

“So impatient, aren’t you?” Ratchet rolls his optics with a groan, either out of frustration for your impatience to hasten things or his desperate need to shove you face-first into the berth, “Turn around, let me see that pretty aft of yours, sweetspark.”

You obey his command, pedes firmly planted on the ground as you bend over the berth. A weak whine vibrates the bed as Ratchet presses your helm into the silky sheets, another servo pushing his engorged spike against your cunt.

“Now be a good femme and stay still for me,” He groans, sheathing his entire spike into you before pressing his body weight against your back, “my little stress toy…”

#transformers x reader #transformers prime x reader #tfp x reader #tfp ratchet x reader #cybertronian reader #fem reader #valveplug #cyberrosewrites

[random-fandom1984]

Can I have some g1 soundwave x reader please😅😅😅😅😅

Being the only femme Cybertronian on the Ark can be... something. Especially when some of them try hitting on you without getting to know you; quite annoying really, but you keep it pushed down; but some people can tell because of your alt-mode.

You stayed in the Ark because of your job as a medic. Your alt-mode is a heartbeat monitor, which also corresponds with your sparkbeats, which is how some people, very few, can tell what you're feeling.

You made your own little base of operations under an abandoned amusement park. You'd bring in people who were injured and left behind in the ruckus of the battlefield between the two factions. Human or Decepticon.

Whenever it's a human, you'd ask them to promise to not tell your Autobot friends about your place of escape, and they do. But with Decepticons, you make sure that they are knocked out, and you just give them a few amounts of anesthesia because they would break in, destroy the place, kidnap you and hold you for ransom against your friends.

One day, when looking through one of the many aftermaths of a battle, you found a minicon in the rubble, Soundwave's minicon: Frenzy. When you took him back to your base, you realized you've forgotten to stock up on more anesthesia, so now you have to worry with the fact that he might wake up soon as you did the procedure of fix-and-repair.

As you were putting your tools away, he woke up with a fright, and you quickly explained the situation to him, which slightly calmed him down. Key word: Slightly. He was suspicious of you but is slowly diminished as you continued to work on the minor injuries that just need a new paint job and be buffed. The last bit disappeared in an instant when you gave him an Energon Goodie.

When he came by again, to your surprise that he remembered the way here, you gave a tour of the place above, he somehow managed to get the place up and running again; thank Primus that your location was miles away from the nearest civilization.

As time went by, Rumble found out, then Ravage, then Laserbeak. When they come to visit, it would be like as if there was no war, they're having a good time in the amusement park.

Sooner or later, Soundwave got suspicious. Where were his kids minicons going late at night?

Being the best spy he is, he followed them, and was surprised that they were hanging out with an Autobot, weren't fighting like there was a war, stopping a fight between Rumble and Frenzy as calm as possible- and somehow easily get them to make up?! He couldn't do that without them continuing to squabble with each other.

He used his telepathy powers to look into your thoughts to see if you secretly had ill intentions with his sons minicons, but there wasn't any!

When his minicons return back to base, it's an instant interrogation the moment they step foot back in the habsuite: How long has this been going on? How did this happen in the first place? What do she always do with them? The only questions that were about you were answered back with positivity.

Curious, he decided to look more into your file when the Decepticons fight the Autobots near the Ark. When he does, all he finds is all good things.

When it was the next time they decided to visit, he wanted to meet her in person. And so he did, and by Primus were you nervous. You were worried he might blow your helm up. You, Soundwave, and his minicons walked through the park, watching the minicons play games, ride the rides; he began to trust you.

The more you all hang out in private, at your secret location, the more you begin to bond closer together, mainly you and Soundwave; the minicons noticed it as clear as day.

So, being mischievous little ones they are, Rumble and Frenzy decided to stage a lil' something. In private, the minicons would call Soundwave Sire, or dad in human terms. So, when the next time you and they met up, they would unexpectedly drop Carrier, mom, at random times in the night. When they first did it, they'd put on an act like as if they didn't mean to say it and it just slip. You fell for their act, so did Soundwave because it was unexpected.

They see you? An Autobot medic? As a parental figure? I mean, sure, you heal up their injuries, you give them Energon sweets if they be good and behave, calmly deal with their fights, gives them sweet head pats, have the most caring optics he's seen, the most beautiful smile- Oh, scrap! He's in love.

He would lie awake at night, questioning why he found you attractive. For starters, your gently touch that he felt when you repaired him, your smiles seem to shine brighter than any star, and sound from your vocalizer was like a siren's call and he was the sailor that was lured by its enchanting melody, your optics the prettiest shade of blue that rivals with this hunk of rock's sky, have the spirit of a Carrier with his kids- Primus, he was hooked, lined and had sunk deep.

After he came to terms with his newfound emotions, he started noticing something about you. Every single time he was close to you, he'd see the screen of your alt-mode, on your chassis, start getting taller. One time, he danced with you as music played in the park, and he saw that the big spikes became frequent, and a subtle blush would be on your cheek plates that you try to hide with your servo and turning your helm to the side. He found this adorable, so much that he became addicted to having that cute blush on your face.

When back on the Ark, you would get pings from an unknown comm-link number, only to realize it's Soundwave, and he's sending you something. When you are finally alone in your habsuite, you would take a look to see that they were poems; they were so sweet, you reread them, laying on your berth, kicking your feet as you excitedly giggle from how nice, sweet, and adorable they are that they might as well be invitations for Cupid to continue to shoot arrows into your spark, making you fall harder for the Con.

When they spent the night in your secret base, you all had fun doing any activity that comes to mind: pillow/blanket forts, teaching the little ones the steps on how you make your glorious Energon Goodies, etc. The last activity was a horror movie marathon. Every time a jump scare would pop up on the screen, you would hug the closest bot, and it just so happened to be Soundwave. During the horror movie marathon, you, Soundwave, and his kids ended up in a cuddle pile, scared, all but Soundwave, Ravage, and Laserbeak.

They decided to spend the night here before returning to the Decepticon base at the break of dawn. You decided to put the little ones to sleep. He decided to start cleaning up the mess that was made, and when he finished, he came back to you telling the ending of an old Cybertron bedtime story.

To him, it looked so nice and peaceful, and you looked so motherly that he just wanted to confess right there, right now. What sealed the deal was you placing a goodnight kiss on the top of their helms, tucking them to sleep before leaving the room they were occupying, only to be dragged off to somewhere by Soundwave, into the place you slept in from time-to-time.

You wondered what was happening, until Soundwave got on one knee plate, servos holding your own, visor looking up into your optics, glistening as he let out a very poetic, charming, delightful, exquisite of him telling you about his feelings, everything about you that made his spark soar: your voice, your optics, your touch, everything.

He carefully watched the screen on you chassis to see if there was any indication of making you uncomfortable or not. And by the end of his heartfelt confession, he watched the heart monitor didn't make any giant spikes. Oh, no. It made a heart at the center of the monitor as blush covers your entire faceplate.

Part 2 coming soon!

#transformers #transformers g1 #transformers g1 x reader #g1 x reader #soundwave #soundwave x reader #g1 soundwave x reader #cybertronian reader #frenzy #rumble #laserbeak #ravage

[mskenway97]

Well this scenario is more for self indultent but I wanted to do it. Seeing the problem of the language barrier, I created this which has partly angst and fluff moment….

You were feeling so lost, you have nothing left…. You don't remember the last time you saw your home or the sunlight. For years you have been a simple laboratory guinea pig, a toy for some beings with red optics…

Until now other beings but with blue optics took you elsewhere. They had been taking care of you, healing your wounds, you didn't understand what they were saying, nor why they had been taking care of you.

You were alone in a corner missing everything you lost, you were literally at their mercy, what could you expect?

Until a door opened noisily, a metallic blue optics giant was looking for you to see you were in the corner.

Surely he had already sentenced your fate? The experiments that the red optic beings did to you…

What was going to crush you? Play on your fear until he smiled happily?

You closed your eyes when you saw a giant servo coming towards you, touching its digit to your cheek… It was caressing you?

You moved away instinctively but that giant robot did not move away from you.

It was trying to talk to you, in a… soft and sweet way? But you didn't understand anything, although it was comforting in comparison to what the anothers did to you

He pulled you into his arms close to his chest to feel a buzzing like a heartbeat, giving you the peace you had been looking for for years. You felt partly warmth and snuggled in, you saw a small smile on that giant robot.

He knows what you suffered, what you lost…. You were a victim. You end in his world. Innocent, fragile...

He saw you close your eyes and fall asleep.

He swore he would protect you and give you everything you needed….

Maybe it was what you both needed.

#sam writes #transformers #transformers x reader #maccadam #maccadams #g/t #giant/tiny #transformers g/t #fluff #cybertronian x human #first contact #first contact au #transformers mtmte #transformers prime #transformers first contact

[lunarbreaksblog]

Tfp!Megatron x Reader

Horizon of Memories || Prologue ||

Your name was MD-1TF.

You were built to mine and refine ore that you mined, you were great at your job… till your fellow miners decided to name themselves. You couldn’t imagine having a name, finally one of the bigger miners that you knew, Megatronus, asked you.

“What is your name?” He always spoke of freedom to the rest of the miners and you.

“I don’t think I can have one” You muttered under your breath.

Having a name…having the implications of another life was bizarre to you. 

“Nonsense! You can have one, who is to control us?” He retorted at your answer.

“Give me time then… to pick one” You hastily agreed, wanting to avoid conflict. 

His optics softened at your new tone, he knew that you were rather ‘anxious’ of him and the rest. It wasn’t because you thought you were better. You just wanted to do your own thing. He would give that to you, the freedom of choice. He would give it to everyone!

It had been a while before he came across you again. You and him were paired up to mine some platinum in branch P-14, he got rid of the rock and gave you the ones that held ore for you to process.

Your frame was different to his, Megatronus was built for the tough work while your long digits and built furnace were meant to refine and pickout the precious minerals from the rocks that he gave.

There were few of your frame types, he saw. You were rare, only the high-grade extraction sites could commission a bot like you, but frankly he knew that you were won over from another extraction site through a bet the Head Commander had won.

He saw how you didn’t want a name, he knew why– you’d rather feel like an object than come to terms with the things that you’d face. He could understand it. The feelings of sympathy and sadness were strong whenever he saw you.

That's what drove him to do the things he did. So everyone could have a choice.

So, when one day he was assigned again with you, you didn’t appear for your duties. Instantly worry overcame him, if anyone didn’t appear for their duties they would get a punishment that ranged from an extra shift to straight-up abuse at the hands of their higher-ups.

His friends told him to forget about you. He looked for you for a while, he even went to the Head Commander, who scoffed at him and ordered him back to mining with an angry scowl.

You didn’t even have a name, how would he find you.

Why did he want to find you?

What was important about you?

You were the freedom he fought for.

But now his freedom was gone but not for long

#transformer #transformers x reader #tfp #transformers prime #prime Megatron #megatron x reader #tfp megatron #tfp x reader #imagine #cybertronian reader #tfp megatron imagine #megatron imagine #tfp megatron x reader #x reader

[emelinstriker]

Predaking ♡ Fetch

First TFP X Reader one-shot of the few I've saved up since like 2021. Will be posting the others later, but I gotta go to the dentist in a bit. So have your big mecha dragon boi. c:

[TL;DR] Predaking acts like a wholesome, oversized puppy towards you. And only you.

♡ ~ Fluff ~ ♡

"Alright, go fetch!" You yelled up at him before throwing a softball across the flight deck. You specifically chose this type of ball due to how easily the predacon could see its bright red color, and because it's big enough for the two of you, as well as soft and squishy. It was also cheap, so you could just buy a new one if Predaking ended up destroying it on accident. But he was still using the first ball you gave him, so that in of itself was impressive.

The giant mech dragon wagged his tail a bit with some small side to side jumps, before happily zooming after the ball. Due to your size and lack of strength, the ball didn't land too far, but it began to bounce and roll away really quickly due to the wind. Yet another reason that ball was a good choice.

He gently picked up the ball before practically bouncing back over to you. You beckoned for him to lower his helm. He did as you commanded and you proceeded to take the ball and pet his helm before leaning your upper body against him in an attempted hug. "Good boy! Great job, Predaking! Who's a good boy! Yes you are!" You cooed, gently stroking one of his mandibles while nuzzling his helm with your forehead.

He purred loudly at your praise. His mood would instantly change whenever you were with him. Your mere presence alone made his spark throb with love and joy. Honestly, he didn't mind being treated like a lesser being, even a pet. But only if it was you. He would not allow this sort of belittlement from anyone else. Not from Shockwave, not even from Megatron. And especially not from a piece of scrap like Starscream.

Speaking of the devil, Predaking spotted him behind you near the entrance. He released a dangerously low growl to warn the seeker to stay away. Especially from you, knowing Starscream's distaste towards humans. You thought the growl was aimed towards you, so you backed away from him with an apologetic look, believing you weren't supposed to hug him like that. "Oh- Sorry..."

However, Predaking felt your warmth leave him, and he didn't like it. His aggressively stiff posture turned calm again. He then nudged his helm back towards you with a purr, rubbing his rather flat snout against your tummy, begging you to hang onto him once more.

Your smile returned as you plopped your weight against him once more. Just to make the moment funnier, you even said a little "Boop!" as you landed on him. His tail wagged a little, happy to make you smile. Yet he still kept an optic on the seeker, just in case he tried anything.

Meanwhile, the seeker was not amused as he was on the flight deck for a reason.

"Human! Megatron and Shockwave are awaiting the predacon! Megatron commands you to go back to your habsuite until further notice!" Starscream's voice startled you as you didn't notice him before. So you got off Predaking's maw and looked at the other mech. But one hand was still on the giant predacon as a form of comfort for both of you.

You slightly looked downwards in disappointment. "Oh... Okay then..." You turned back towards the mech dragon giving him a sad smile before leaning down to put a light kiss on his snoot, rubbing the side of it.

"We'll play more later, okay? Be a good boy when you leave. Love you, King!" You said before starting to walk towards the entrance, turning one last time to give him a little wave.

You didn't notice it this time, but the mech dragon's tail swooshed from side to side faster than before. If you had listened closely, you could've also heard his cooling fans turn on when you gave him a kiss. His optics also turned from giving the seeker half the attention to putting his whole attention onto you as your tiny frame walked away.

His gaze on you was soft. There could have possibly been hearts floating around his helm if this were a cartoon. He could've even had hearts in his optics, that's how far gone he was. That's when he heard the seeker approach him with his usual unnerving voice. The predacon's mood instantly changed. His loving gaze towards your direction halted as he turned to face Starscream with a look of pure hatred.

"Well, well, well... You appear to be having fun, being treated like a servant animal by a tiny rat. Doing everything they want. Why can't you simply follow my orders then!?" He yelled out in anger. If he hadn't known about the predacon's transformation, he would've hit the dragon.

Predaking let out a loud screech before standing up and spreading his wings- Towering over the shorter mech. Having his pride take a hit was one thing, having to listen to the SIC call you 'rat' was another. You were so much more than a rat. You were a divine soul. And your tiny frame only made his primal instincts want to protect and love you even more.

"Whatever your relationship with the fleshy may be, it doesn't matter. Now, move to Shockwave's lab." Starscream scoffed. If looks could kill, the seeker may have already died back in the pits of Kaon. It felt like Predaking's hatred for him could time travel.

Suddenly, the mech dragon transformed into his bi-pedal cybertronian form.

"I'll be there for the meeting. However..." The taller mech stomped over to the now intimidated seeker. His shadow was now looming over the SIC. "If you call them a 'rat' one more time, I'll make sure to rip your spark out the 'primal beast way'."

Starscream trembled beneath the predacon's fierce gaze, then the king made his way past the seeker and towards the lab.

The meeting itself was quite uneventful. It was simply seen as a progress report. Predaking was just there for show, in a way. It was mostly Shockwave who talked to Megatron.

After the meeting, the predacon was dismissed. And the first thing he did was visit your bedroom.

Due to your relationship with Predaking, and you being basically the only one able to tame the beast with questionable ease, Megatron assigned Shockwave to be your guardian and for you to stay in a smaller room connected to the lab. However, with how much disinterest the scientist had in you, he basically abandoned you just for you to be taken care of by Predaking. So technically speaking, Predaking was your guardian and you were his charge. The only thing Shockwave did to take care of you was to get Knockout to get you stuff you needed. Because it seemed illogical for him to go get necessities for you himself.

The predacon slowly approached your little home, transforming into the beast on the way. You knew about his bi-pedal form, but you didn't treat him with as much affection as you did when he approached you as a mech dragon. He enjoyed your company regardless, but it was more enjoyable for him personally to see you laugh and smile a lot more when you were simply allowed to pet his helm.

You had fallen asleep in your bed, assuming the meeting would take a while. So when Predaking gazed upon your sleeping body, he couldn't help but purr. And of course, his purring didn't go unnoticed by you as you slowly woke up from your nap. And the first thing you saw right in front of your face was a pair of yellow glowing optics staring right at you in admiration. You weren't startled or anything as this wasn't the first time the predacon (unintentionally) woke you up like this. You yawned as you sat up to look at him with a little smile.

"Hey, King... How did the meeting go?" You asked, still tired. The predacon closed his optics and tilted his head towards the side, ex-venting some warm air like a heater. This movement roughly translated to either "Boring" or "Meh", and it never failed to make you laugh. It simply looked ridiculous to see a giant beast do such a motion.

The predacon then suddenly got an idea. He gently picked you up by the back of your shirt like a kitten and walked off. You two bypassed Shockwave as he just stared at you helplessly dangling from the giant beast's maw.

You didn't say anything, waving at the purple mech. This wasn't the first time Shockwave's creation did this, so neither of you were concerned about being in danger around him. However, you were a little curious as to where he was taking you.

Turns out he was taking you back to his kennel. You still didn't understand why, however. Maybe he wanted to play more?

Your questions quickly were answered however, when he gently lowered you into the middle of his nest and started to circle around you before eventually dropping down, having you sitting against his body. One wing was spread out a bit to give you a roof and contain more of the warmth Predaking's frame produced.

He let out a whirring noise that seemed to resemble a yawn as he tried to comfortably cuddle up closer against you. He curled his body around you more and you couldn't help but coo at how adorable he was acting. Like an overgrown puppy wanting love and attention. And if you couldn't give it to him all the time, he would simply not let you leave. But to be honest, you didn't want to leave him at the moment anyway.

So you simply let yourself fall back asleep, this time in your king's embrace.

[ Masterlist ]

#transformers prime #tfp x reader #predaking x reader #cybertronian x human #transformers x reader #transformers x human #tfp predaking #tfp predaking x reader #tfp starscream #fluff

[cybertronian-reader-imagines]

Hillowhillow may I make a request? How about relationship headcanons for MTMTE Megatron with a s/o who is taller than him? Many thanks and take your time!

((As a Tall Girl™ this speaks to me.))

Being Megatron's EVEN TALLER sparkmate would include...

- To say you intimidate people when they first meet you would be an understatement - after all, not only are you usually looking down at them, but your significant other is one of the most infamous (former) warlords to ever walk the face of Cybertron. Surely, you must also be tough as nails, right?

- You're actually a pretty nice, chill person once someone gets to know you - Megatron admires that about you. You don't let people's quick judgements stop you from being kind, something he is working on within himself. Your personable demeanor balances him.

- This inevitably means you end up being more liked than Megatron aboard the Lost Light... but the first time someone makes a comment about how such a jerk could have such a nice sparkmate, everyone present sees that you are just as capable as Megatron of putting your foot down and speaking your mind, regardless of what others think. If some bot isn't willing to let Megatron have his second chance, you two are not going to get along, period.

- But what ends up surprising people more than how soft YOU are is how soft Megatron can be around you. Primus, it's almost creepy how much his gaze softens when he looks at you. Who is this bot and what did you do to Megs?

- And that's just the public sappiness - half of the Lost Light would probably short circuit if they knew just how often you found love poems you found left on a datapad in your habsuite. 

- (Magnus apparently knows about this, because someone had to beta read the things, but of course he never lets it slip.)

- Megatron writes about you like the softest, most delicate thing.... even though you might be able to judo throw him over your shoulder at all. A few of the poems hint that probably into into that actually.

#megatron x reader #mtmte #lost light #mtmte x reader #cybertronian reader #gender neutral reader #maccadam #transformers #transformers x reader #merry christmas to everyone except people who hate redemption arcs

[porkcracker]

hello everything is fine? If requests are still open, I would like to know if you can do the reaction of the Decepticons (Megatron, Tarn, Overlord and Soundwave) with a Cybertronian s/o who is a cannibal and uses a fucinheira? Is she a powerful and insane warrior? If you don't want to write, ignore it, thank you.

Hi, thanks for asking, I'm haunted by chronic pain, but my life has had a rather positive turn the last months that had me really busy. Also why this ask is answered so late. Delightful selection of bots you got there, since it isn't really clarified, I went with separated headcanons and different scenarios for each character, so I hope you enjoy this.

Decepticons x Cannibal!Fem!Cyb!Reader

Megatron

Megatron has seen his fair share of cannibalism even before the war, so the action itself isn't anything new to him

It's during the war that he sees it used as a freely chosen way to fight, instead of an act used by desperate bots

He, himself, has not done it and will probably not do it unless necessary

That you indulge in cannibalism discourages him little to pursue you

There are enough equally insane bots in his faction as that he doesn't really care any more in the later parts of war

If you wear the muzzle from your own freewill, he will get a rush of power every time he is reminded that you are his, and he has the control to take it off you and send you after his enemies

During the time of your relationship, he gets use to tasting raw Energon due to you often tasting like it

You're a terrifying power couple, Emperor and Empress

Tarn

Being a cannibal in the DJD is nothing special

You start of as normal teammates, really if anyone had expected a relationship than not between the two of you

But still it happens, and it's an awful thing for any traitor

While Tarn likes to keep a somewhat cultured appearance on the average, and doesn't like you eating in your shared quarters

When it comes to punishing traitors, he greatly enjoys talking in his voice about his beautiful and vicious girlfriend and complimenting your appearance while feeding you the matching parts of the traitor

It's a very sweet bonding activity in your optics

During your time together, you start and stop wearing muzzles again and again, purely for the effect it has on the traitors you hunt

Still, you can never fully decide to stick to wearing one or not

Overlord

As a Gladiator you earned a terrifying reputation of eating your defeated opponents, something that lead to you wearing a muzzle whenever not in the ring fighting

As you continue to win and get stronger, the ring overseer formed a plan to get rid of you, to stop the loss of more fighters and set you up in a match against the at that point, unbeaten fighter, Overlord

You did not beat him either, however, the overseer miscalculated in the way that Overlord and you knew each other, and he let you life in your defeat

When the war started, you followed Overlord, a deranged type of partnership having formed between the two of you

Becoming a Deception had nothing to do with ideology for you, rather you only joined because your partner did

You two gained a reputation quickly as you not only killed happily anything that moved, but also had the favour of Overlord eating his defeated enemies, often even while they were still half alive

Soundwave

Soundwave meets you long before the war starts

On the streets are many desperate bots that will do anything and everything to survive, including eating others

You kept to already offlined bots whenever you could, but there were a few times you ended someone weak

Anyway, you meet Soundwave as another bot on the streets

His companions are wary of you as he is too, but over time and reoccurring run-ins with each other you get closer

When Soundwave suddenly vanishes, you assume he offlined

Life gets even tougher, and you end up with a few more crimes under your belt ending with you in a cell, muzzled for your tendency to get fuel through offlined bots

You only get free once the war breaks out and join the Decepticons, learning only then that Soundwave is still online

As old friends you hit it off and some time into the war even become a couple

Soundwave is also the one to free you of your muzzle, if the enforcers weren't already offlined he would have killed them for this

#request #transformers #maccadam #megatron #tarn #overlord #soundwave #reader #female reader #cybertronian reader #megatron x reader #tarn x reader #overlord x reader #soundwave x reader #tw cannibalism

[orion-nottson]

devil’s in the details | tfp!megatron x reader

A/N: i have tfp megatron brain rot. like i know he’s cray cray and deluded, but literally so am i we’re made for each other he’s mine

also this obvi deviates from canon, bc there is no way on god’s green earth that dreadwing and starscream could coexist semi-peacefully.

also, please be warned that i haven’t written transformers fanfic since i was like 14 💀💀 fought for my LIFE with the terminology (had to check my old WATTPAD stories to find some vocab 💀)

summary: lord megatron propositions you. it’s a rather bold request.

content: SMUT, 18+ ONLY, minors DNI, femme!cybertronian!reader, seeker!reader, sticky sexual interfacing, breeding kink, wee lil bit of choking, technically boss/employee relationship, power dynamic (it gets semi-resolved), implied past relationship/thought unrequited love, average decepticon emotional constipation, business arrangement procreation

word count: 6,367

~ * ~ * ~

The Decepticon warship lingers somewhere over the southern pole of Earth, resulting in a dramatic decrease in temperature, even with the efficiency of Cybertronian technology. You shift your wings for the umpteenth time, armor plates releasing air to alleviate the discomforting chill that’s started to bother you. Of course, it was far from being so cold that you needed to worry about your core temperature, but you are a Seeker from Vos, and Vos was always warm.

The thought makes your wings tremble again, so you hurry yourself to your quarters with a bit more haste.

It wouldn’t suddenly be warm and tropical, but at least you’d be able to curl up and shiver in privacy. Recharge sounds particularly nice too, considering you’ve been up for several cycles trying to appease Lord Megatron’s endless demands. Inwardly, you roll your optics— There seems to be nothing you can do that would satisfy him.

The corridor finally breaks into the wing that houses Decepticon high command, where yours and your fellow officers reside. Your room is down almost the entire expanse of the hall, the turn right before where Megatron’s personal habsuite lies. From where you’re walking, you can spot the sleek, black metal door. A chill runs up your back struts, and your processor convinces you it’s from the icy cold that’s overtaken the Nemesis.

“Curse this inhospitable, organic planet.” Muttering to yourself dissuades you from also blaming your Master, who was no help either, if you were to be honest. He could shove his “not wanting to expend precious Energon on unnecessary heating” decree up his tail pipe.

You resign yourself to some rather cold nights for the foreseeable future. Perhaps... If you played your cards right, as the humans say, you could convince Soundwave to pilot the ship north. Maybe somewhere near Hawaii...

A sharp, gravelly voice from behind you calls your name, and you spin around to see your Lord and Master a ways down the corridor from you. Immediately bringing yourself to attention, you straighten your back struts and bow politely.

“My liege.” You say, thanking Primus you’ve become so accustomed to Megatron’s thunderous shouts that you no longer jump, let alone flinch, when they occur. The silver mech strides up to you easily, displaying all the strength of a warrior in the confidence of his steps.

“Retiring to your quarters?” He asks austerely, as if he’s ever concerned himself with your whereabouts, let alone personal routine. Unease creeps up on you, so you shift on the thrusters of your peds and cross your servos over your chassis. Wings fluttering, you reply slowly, “Well, yes.”

“Allow me to accompany you there.” The silver mech says brightly, and it’s such an absurdly peculiar request for both the mech saying it and the situation at hand. You instinctively snort a laugh.

“I do believe I know the way to my own habsuite, my Lord.” You say before you can stop the words from coming out, and immediately regret them once they do. You meet Megatron’s hard stare sheepishly, wings dropping timorously. Forgetting your place in the grand scheme of things is not wise amongst the Decepticon ranks.

To your utter shock, you’re not met with a vicious reprimand and instead Megatron grins— this wickedly suave thing— and purrs, “Humor me.”

And all you can say is, “Of course.”

Megatron hums appreciatively, brushing past you as he takes the lead, like he always does. You step in time behind him, nearly colliding into his back struts when he suddenly halts, and you stumble backwards a few steps. The looming mech pivots, glancing down at you with a quizzical expression in his glowing optics.

“Seekers are a rare breed, yes?” Lord Megatron asks, and whatever game he’s begun to play with you genuinely stumps any reasoning you attempt. Opening your mouth, your optics dart over his face, trying to decode whatever message your Master is sending and coming up empty. 

“Er... Yes, my liege? Even before the war, Vos was not a populous city-state. There are probably... even less now.” You reply cautiously, becoming very put off as Megatron takes a step towards you. He looks as impassive as ever, though you’re beginning to see a very curious appraising expression overtaking his faceplates. It begins with the upcurve of his mouth, derma pulled into the most wolfish grin you’ve ever seen on the mech.

Utterly bizarre. Your processors want to reset because this Megatron is starting to look like the studly gladiator of Kaon you’d hear be lasciviously giggled about, not the ruthless, merciless tyrant he’s supposed to be.

“I have a rather... avant-garde proposition for you, my most loyal Seeker.” Megatron purrs, his servos clasped easily behind him as you’ve seen him too many times before, often when he schemes. He’s also talking to you as if this is casual, expected business of him; matter-of-fact and cordial, with his usual cool drawl.

Before you can reply, Megatron turns sharply once more and begins walking down the corridor, stopping after a few steps when he realizes you hadn’t started with him. He turns his helm to look back at you, this time there’s this strangely unreadable expression on his faceplates.

“Follow me.” He says simply, and without a second thought, you do.

Even though you’re a Seeker with naturally long legs, his pedsteps are even longer strides, so you have to exert some effort in keeping up with Megatron. It adds to the growing franticness that’s begun to bubble up inside your chassis. 

While not exactly fear, though that’s certainly part of it, you’ve been a Decepticon and aboard the Nemesis under Megatron’s direct command long enough to know that when he becomes cryptic, it means trouble. Or at least a command that you’d rather not be the one to deal with. Bluntly asking what the frag he’s on about wouldn’t be the best course of action, but you know that he likes you enough not to offline you immediately if you did.

So you do.

“My Lord, what exactly are you asking of me?” You inquire, noting with slight abject horror as Megatron approaches the door to your quarters and types in your lock code with ease. Of course, he is the leader after all. Instead of answering your question, he makes you feel even more uneasy by throwing you a mysteriously sultry look and quipping, “Let me have you if only for a breem. Or longer should I entertain you.”

You catch the flash of his ruby optics, their intentions indiscernible, and then he disappears into your habsuite like it’s his own.

There’s something to it, an itch of a thought that’s begun to decipher the puzzle and put together the pieces. Lately, Megatron has been far more... involved with you, more eager at your presence, and it was blatantly obvious that he grew quite miffed when others got too close. It was no secret to anyone— From Soundwave and Starscream to a lowly technician— that Megatron had an optic for you (many did, frankly) and thus he was quite possessive of your wiles and charms as well.

This line of thought leads you to step into your room, slowly and evenly as if it’s unmarked territory and not the quarters that were assigned to you millennia ago.

“Lord Megatron...” You trail off, catching his stare just as he sets your old null ray back on your weapons rack, where most of your old, dismantled, and prized tools are located. Your null ray had been a favorite, until some blasted Autobot blew out the important bits that kept it working. That had stung, and even eons later you still curse that specific Autobot to the Pits.

Megatron flexes his claws, and with a flourish he clasps his servos behind him once again. His red optics scan the entirety of your quarters, lingering on your berth until they come back to rest on you. His gaze is equal parts unnerving and fascinating, as if he’s deconstructing you armor by armor, stripping you down until he’s watched your spark pulse.

His optics, like twin red suns, center you at their universes, and you feel oddly... flattered at their amorous disposition.

“It is no secret that I have watched you for some time.” Megatron starts, tilting his helm as he becomes pensive. You nod dumbly, hardly processing a word he’s saying. Megatron takes a single step towards you, looming like a shadow. In the dim lighting of your room, his silver armor catches all the chiaroscuro, his violet accents hued to black. Only his glowing, fiery optics remain bright. He continues.

“I admit,—” Megatron drawls your name deliciously, “— That I have found myself... captivated by your beauty. Entranced by your prowess, both in battle and mind.”

“I...” Your vents hitch, wings shivering at the praise. Blinking rapidly to ensure this isn’t some monumentally vivid dream, you clear your intake and say, “I don’t know what to say. Thank you, my Lord.”

Megatron laughs, that slight chuckle that sounds halfway between his engines roaring and something genuine that comes from the spark. The silver mech’s rolls his shoulders, armor hissing as it releases air. Wildly, he confesses something you never would have expected from him, “I believe myself bewitched.”

His servos have clasped themselves into fists at his sides, and briefly you wonder if he’s angry with you, then his entire frame relaxes like he’s decompressing after a long spar with Dreadwing.

“Tell me, my little Seeker, why have you denied yourself of me for so long?” Megatron asks it like a tease, like he’s some boon to be revered or a sacred sword to be wielded. Heat rises beneath your armor plating, and your processors race kilometers a nanosecond to find a suitable answer. Or at least one that doesn’t make you sound like some lovesick femmeling.

You couldn’t lie and say you had no... feelings for your Master, who was as handsome and dark as he was powerful and cunning. Megatron was once a gladiator of Kaon, and gladiators on Cybertron were what you had often admired, marveling at their strength, drive, and raw spark. Megatron had been no different, though you also found his commanding presence and impressive intellect to be even more attractive.

That was really why you’d joined the Decepticon cause all those millennia ago; Drawn to your Master’s fight to bring equality to the rigid castes and to seize control of the Energon supply to better disperse it by his charismatic allure.

And somehow, Megatron knew all of this.

“It would have been insubordination if I acted upon my... desires.” You reply, crossing your arms over your ample chassis with a shrug. Megatron matches your collected temperament with a hum, staring down at you with unreadable red optics.

“Indeed. Though I wish you’d had disobeyed, my little Seeker.” Megatron purrs, taking a step towards you that closes the space between your frames and boxes you in. His EM field magnifies the atmosphere around you, tingling at the periphery of yours.

“M-My liege?” You gape, faceplates feeling hot as metal left in direct sunlight. He chuckles, and sinfully the tip of his glossa runs over his pointed denta. Your spark skips a beat, owlishly watching 

“If I had known sooner that you wanted me as direly as I did you, then this song and dance would have concluded vorns ago.” Megatron growls, optics flashing with not anger, but lust. He takes another step, and you’re speechless.

“That being said, I am patient. I have no qualms with how long we have waited, nor will I if you choose to wait longer.” One of the tyrant’s long, clawed digits clicks at the bottom of your chin, tilting your face upwards. His touch is delicate, like you’d break if he pushed too hard. Honestly, you probably would if he did. Part of you wants to see him try.

“What did you want to ask of me?” You whisper, optics fluttering until they stay half-lidded and dewy under the carnal scrutiny of your Lord. Megatron grins, a sliver of sharp denta flashing in the lowlights of your habsuite. He takes a final step towards you, a half-shuffle that does well to close the gap between your frames, the air warming from the work of your combined engines. You hope he feels the way your spark races, hope he feels the heat emanating from your core.

“Give me an heir, carry a sparkling of my code and stand beside me as my queen.” With each word, laden with desire until it shows in his optics that drip with lust, Megatron has you against the wall of your habsuite, one servo tracing the sleek edge of your wing.

It’s entirely intoxicating, and against your better judgment and all remaining reason— and mostly because you haven’t had a good, hard frag in ages— you moan.

It’s a soft, angelic sound that barely catches on the audials, but it makes Megatron grin like a shark. You gasp, affronted, optics flickering, “My liege!”

“Have I offended you?” He breathes, and suddenly his mouth is against your neck cables, each word leaving the softest of kisses on your Energon lines. Your resolve nearly crumbles entirely, each brush of his dermas like a shot of high grade to the systems. You sigh, vents hissing, and place one servo on his chassis. Beneath the broad expanse of silver armor, his engines rumble like thunder on the horizon. It makes you pulse with need.

“No.” You whisper, wanting to sing as Megatron kisses the slope of your jaw, then pecks the side of your mouth, agape with shock. He pulls back, the heat of him evaporating as soon as he’s once again standing at his full height. You tremble, not from the cold, but from his absence. 

It’s not something you’d ever given much thought about, your feelings towards your Lord and Master, but it’s something that’s come rushing back. All the suppressed thoughts, the dashed dreams, the impossible futures... They come back to you and leave you weak in the knee joints, cooling fans whirring from the memories of the fantasies you’d entertained when you’d had long midnights alone.

“What say you then?” Megatron’s stare is hard, unshaking and fully serious. He wants to have a sparkling with you, wants you to bear him an heir— He wants you as his queen and equal, to stand beside him and lead the Decepticon cause. The expression on his face is a cross between a wild animal, wanting to ravage you the nanosecond you say Yes, and the warlord with enough resolve and self-restraint to accept if you say No.

It’s all so much at once. Eons of time made up in just a single question. Details and technicalities will have to be conferred over later, as for now you’re content with the conditions as-is.

“Well... You are a handsome mech, my liege.” You reply, teasing him by placing a chaste kiss directly on the Decepticon insignia on his chassis. He doesn’t say anything, only his engine rumbles more audibly. You look up at him and salaciously imply with a coy smirk, “I do believe we’d make a fine clutch of sparklings.”

And then you find yourself swept up into his arms, back struts and wings pressed against the wall, your Lord’s hips slotted perfectly against yours. The more base urges inside you squeal, your Seeker coding nearly overtaking you and having you present to him like a turbofox in heat.

Not one to be outdone, Megatron quips, “And you are quite the striking femme— Shall I ravage you against the wall or your berth?”

You laugh, cut off only when Megatron captures your dermas in his, drowning you in the roughness of a mech starved of Energon. He kisses like he owns the practice and has made it an artform; Dragging your dermas with his, glossa invading your mouth, denta nipping dangerously close to sensitive nodes and wiring. You moan and gasp, coming to the realization that one of your servos grips his wrist and the other is flat against his chassis.

You shutter your optics, reveling in Megatron’s power and dominance, wanting so desperately for him to devour you. The warmth blossoms, spreading throughout your core until you feel charges pulse at your interface panels that have you whimpering.

After what feels like vorns, Megatron parts and your dermas unlock with a metallic pop. Megatron’s mouth ghosts over yours, and he hums as he repeats himself, “Berth or wall, little Seeker?”

“The berth, my liege.” You urge breathlessly, a delighted sound escaping you as Megatron heaves you from the wall and carries you to your desired destination. He isn’t gentle when he deposits you on your berth, doesn’t mind the wings, so you hiss when your back struts connect with the metal beneath you. Megatron manages to keep himself between the smooth metal of your thighs as he hitches one knee up onto the berth.

“I wonder,” Megatron stops to kiss you deeply once more, making your processors spin, “If this is an auspicious position for conception.”

A bite to the dermas stifles your wanton moan. Your Lord may not be fully aware of it yet, but each mention of being sparked, of bearing his heirs, has your more base urges spiraling out of control. While Vos was not populated by many Seekers, the need to breed is more hardwired into the programming than most other frame types. His words act like fuel to the fire.

“O-Oh— I can only hope.” You gasp, your whimpering cries smothered by Megatron’s dermas in yet another bruising, brusque kiss. This time, he lingers, slows down as if he savors the taste of you on his glossa. Your servos grip his shoulders, smoothing along his breadth before your pointed digits grip at the armor panels high on his back. Megatron responds most enjoyably, using one servo to anchor himself above you and the other to caress down your body.

His servo travels from the curve of your waist, talons scratching at your paint, down to the slope of your hip where it rests heavy and warm on the junction of your thigh. He teases the sharp point of his thumb digit on the transformation seam nearest your interface panels, causing you to arch your back struts like a cat. Megatron uses this opportunity to settle a servo on the low of your back struts, where he pinches at the sensitive nodes at the bases of your wings. That makes you cry out, your cooling fans whirring loudly as a charge builds up deep inside you. 

You’ve never been this close to an overload so quickly before, though you’ve had many sleepless nights built up to bring you to this moment. And Megatron proves his expertise in the berth, past rumors and gossip proven to hold more truth than you once thought. 

Your entire frame feels electrified, your lower body feels like it’s on fire, the heat centered gloriously on your interfacing parts. Particularly your valve and anterior node, which feel wet and pulse beneath the panel with each of your sparkbeats.

“You react so gratifyingly.” Megatron purrs, his gravelly drawl like fine high grade on the audials, uncharacteristically sweet and sensual. He glances down at your interface panels, where your glowing transfluid is beginning to seep out along the seams. With a devious grin, Megatron meets your gaze just as he presses his thumb digit to your overheated panel.

“Megatron!” You cry his name, forsaking honorifics, and nearly overloading on the spot. Almost unconsciously, you send a command and your valve panel slides open, revealing your weeping slit and throbbing anterior node. You cry out again when Megatron wastes no time and starts tight, small circles on the sensitive bundle of mesh wire and circuitry.

“Beautiful.” He hums, quickening his pace on your anterior node as he notices sparks fly as your charge builds. You grip his back, claws digging at his silver armor and leaving scratches in his already worn paint. Megatron leans in, steals your dermas in a kiss, keeps circling your wet node, and just as you see warnings for an imminent overload— He stops.

The charge doesn’t die, but it decreases to a staticky tingle, and you part from the kiss, scandalized that he’s prevented your overload. You gape at Megatron, giving him a glare that could rival the World Destroyer’s himself. He only offers you a sly look.

“My liege.” This time you growl the title past grit denta, bucking your hips against your Master’s still servo. He hums, your anger meaning nothing to him, though indulging you by brushing two digits along the transfluid-soaked mesh of your valve. You gasp, optics blowing wide as he pushes them in, mindful of his sharp claws, stretching you wonderfully.

There’s a slight burn at first, pain sensors sending alerts, alleviated as your frame adjusts to accommodate his thick talons. Megatron eases his digits back until they are almost out completely, then sinks them back in. Your knees come up, peds shaking as you hook them behind his back struts.

“Patience, my dear,” Megatron kisses your neck cables, “Is a virtue.”

And like he had your anterior node, he works your valve slowly, steadily building the charge that buzzes all the pleasure centers in your frame. Warnings for an overload screen your vision again, this time your optics flicker as it grows closer. Staccato vents escape your intake, fans skipping cycles and hitching, encouraging Megatron to go faster, digits plunging in and out of your valve with sopping, moist noises. The room smells like interface; the tinny tang of transfluid, the almost-burnt smell of metal-on-metal friction.

You moan, this time a long keen that crackles in your audials, and Megatron responds with the first pleasured sound you’ve heard from him: A low, throaty groan that he practically strangles in his intake like he doesn’t want it to escape.

“M-My liege, plea-please.” You whine, writhing, bucking your hips even as Megatron’s servo relinquishes your wings in order to still them. You sob, systems on the fritz as the charge crackles, your overload closing in due to Megatron’s working servo and digits. He laughs again, the breathy one that you adore, and surprisingly heeds your plea.

“I want you like this when you take my spike.” Megatron hisses, doubling his pace and making you scream. The wet squelch of your mesh grows louder, and with each thrust of his servo, his knuckle joint brushes your throbbing anterior node, whiting out your optics.

“I want you disheveled.” The tyrant presses close to you, tightening the cyclic thrusts of his digits, biting at the base of your neck cables. Your helm lolls to the side, voice crackling in constant whines as you squeeze your optics shut. He growls, sharp denta piercing an Energon line close to your shoulder armor, the pain mixing with pleasure and having you singing.

“I want you desperate.” Megatron snarls like an Earthen beast, the gruffness of his voice matching the hot stretch of your valve. Transfluid soaks the inner seams and mechanisms of your thighs, spilling onto your berth below. Megatron drags his dermas to yours, his glossa hot and heady as he shoves it in your mouth and dominates the kiss. You moan against him, gripping him tight and hearing the sound of metal screech as its torn.

The silver mech groans, low and rough, breaking the kiss and allowing his helm to fall besides yours. To the cables and wires of your neck, he leaves open-mouth kisses, condensation hot from his vents, then pulls himself up to your audials and whispers harshly:

“I want you as mine.”

The last word is punctuated by a hard push of his digits and his thumb squashing your anterior node, and your overload hits you like a system crash. You wail, wings fluttering and hitting the berth with metallic clangs as your body seizes, the charge overtaking your processors. Pleasure like molten lava consumes your frame, transfluid squirting out onto Megatron’s forearm like paint.

The overload lasts eons, like some supernova of a dying star. Your legs lock, armor plating shivering, wings hitched high and scraping against your berth.  Maybe this is what death is, you think illogically, Maybe I’ve joined with the Allspark.

“Beautiful.” Megatron breathes again, his optics glowing in awe, “Positively beautiful.”

It takes a click for your processor to compute what he said, then another for your optics to blink back on. Coolant tears leak out the corners, blurring your vision. Your mouth gapes, dermas damp with condensation, your cooling fans whirring in loud in your audials. The grip you have on Megatron loosens, servos slipping until they fall upon his shoulders.

The charge in your valve mesh and anterior node quivers and bounces, and you realize with a pleasant tremble that Megatron’s digits are still firmly inside you.

“Megatron.” You coo his name, “Megatron.”

He says yours back, like all you’ve done and are doing is exchanging designations in a routine meeting and it reminds you of a time when things were simpler between the two of you. It’s been eons since Megatron’s seen you the way his ruby red optics gaze upon you now, eons more since you’ve felt seen.

War has made you both volatile, too tough and too angry to do anything else but fight, and fight some more. But here, in the privacy of your berth, blanketed by the secrecy of darkness: War can’t touch you. Nothing can.

“How I have yearned for you...” Megatron cups your faceplates, his servo cool against your overheated frame. You smile, still hazy from your overload and the lingering sensation of his other servo very much connected carnally to you, feeling like you’ve overdone yourself on too much high grade. 

A switch flips inside you, the one that reminds you’re no fainting femme, but one that asks and will take regardless. You are a Seeker, after all— It’s in your code to want offspring.

“Give me a sparkling, my Lord.” Even though your voice wavers, it still sounds like an immutable command. The contemplative look on Megatron’s face morphs into the devilish one, and he snarls, removing his digits from your core. A thin line of gooey transfluid stretches between you and his servo, until Megatron brings it to his mouth and his glossa licks along the length of his digits. His optics narrow in as he hums.

“You presume you can command me.” And yet he obeys again, his interface panel unlatching with a hiss. His spike emerges, a long, thick one that fills in sections, ribbed along its length. Glowing transfluid oozes in droplets from its tip, rolling down the underside of his spike. Your jaw drops, both in want and slight alarm— Megatron is a large mech, you should have better anticipated a large spike.

“Know this, dearest: I will take you, ruin you, fill you up until my code takes.” Megatron promises, lining his bobbing spike up with your throbbing valve. He then grabs your hips, propping them up for a better angle. You quiver, writhing on your berth and bracing your servos on his forearms. His armor is hot under your touch, and your claws dig into the smooth of his paint. Then you match his stare, licking your dermas.

“Frag me like you mean it.”

Megatron suddenly thrusts his spike into you and you wail, unforgiving of your smaller stature. The delicate mesh and sensitive wires give and mold around the hot rod of his pulsing length, forming a slick suction around your lover. He groans, easing back then thrusting in with earnest. Your thighs tremble as you take him, each rimmed circlet of his spike passing into you, dragging deliciously on your valve’s walls.

It’s a tight fight, even with being loosened by Megatron’s thick digits. The transformation seams on your hips and thighs stretch, soft whirs and clicks as your frame adjusts to take him. He’s the biggest you’ve ever had, and the strongest too. The power in his hips drives you up the berth, and he pulls you back down.

You can’t meet his thrusts, but you try and buck your hips in time with him, erratic at first. Megatron’s servos are locked on you, guiding you when your movements skip or miss. All the pleasure centers in your frame are alight, charges sparking and fritzing along your circuitry. Another overload builds, a hot, deep bubbling in your core.

With each thrust of his spike, your valve squelches, the mesh slick and hot with transfluid. More drips down your legs, your aft, onto the berth, leaving everything tacky. Megatron hits a particularly sensitive node deep inside you, one you didn’t even know was there, and you keen. Coolant tears prick at your vision again, escaping the corners and rolling off your faceplates. 

“How badly do you want it?” Megatron seethes, and you could mistake his lust for anger. He seizes your neck cables, dangerous talons threatening Energon lines, as he demands, “How badly do you want me?”

“Desperately.” You wheeze, optics whiting out as Megatron squeezes your neck cables just so as he gives you a series of particularly rough thrusts. Your peds tighten on his back, urging him deeper. Your Master vents, harsh and hot, his engine rumbling loud in his chassis.

“You will look...” Megatron chokes on a groan,”... Excellent with a trine at your hip.”

That makes you whine, Seeker coding squealing and preening at the thought. A trine. Three little sparklings just like their carrier. You’d delight in carrying them in your gestation chamber, wanting to see yourself change and swell to accommodate them.

“I want... I want,” Your voice cuts out, broken by a sob, and you can only manage a tight, “I want that!”

“Good.” Megatron pistons his hips like a jackhammer, his rhythm not breaking once. Powerful thrusts meet the wet heat of your core, the tops of his thigh armor clanking loudly against your legs. The overload warnings start appearing once again. Megatron hisses when your valve tightens around his length, and it prompts him to pick up the pace.

“You are so pretty.” He growls, leaning in to recapture your dermas with his. As he kisses, he doubles his speed and the strength behind it. You moan and sob into his mouth, servos gripping him by the back of the helm. His glossa battles with yours, his sharp denta nicking you more than once. Then he switches to kissing you deeply, soulfully, like he’s found salvation in your dermas.

It’s as you’re so viscerally connected to Megatron that the heat in your core reaches a boiling point, the slow-building electricity coming to its peak. Your valve walls spasm, the giving mesh convulsing in the telltale sign of your overload on the horizon.

Somehow accomplishing it, Megatron kisses you deeper, his faceplates flush and hot against yours. A particularly hard grind of his spike on the sensitive nodes of your valve has you gasping into the silver mech’s mouth. Your optics squeeze shut, you feel like your core is about to explode with heat—

Your second overload hits, just as spectacular and wonderful as the first. Electrified charges bounce between the mesh of your valve and Megatron’s throbbing spike, transfluid soaking him and yourself once again. It’s only after your audials tingle that you realize you’ve screamed loudly enough to reset them. Your systems crash, processors overheated and cooling fans hitching and trembling. With a hiss and a long grunt, Megatron follows you over the edge as well.

Warmth blooms in your core, pleasure nodes and receptors picking up the hot liquid feel of Megatron’s transfluid deep inside you. It comes out in spurts, and he rides his overload by continuing to push into you. As your optics come back online, you catch him hunching over you, ceasing his thrusts in favor of pressing as close as he can, spike still weeping transfluid and coating your inside walls.

Megatron hisses and groans, his frame shivering just once as he finishes, lazily bucking his hips thrice to empty himself completely. He doesn’t disengage his spike, leaving it to soften in your overworked valve. You can’t feel your peds, not after the overload you just experienced, and your entire frame shudders when he nips at your neck cables once again.

For a while, he hovers above you, his EM field embracing your frame. Softly, your servos caress his upper back struts, the tips of your digits dancing along his seams. His servos finally release your hips, revealing he’s left shallow dents in your armor. No matter, you’d wear them proudly. 

“Do you have fiber cloths in your refresher?” Megatron asks, breaking the comfortable silence, his vocal processor crackling only slightly. A twitch of the helm is the best “Yes” you can offer, and brutally Megatron parts from you, drawing a soft whimper as his spike and warmth leave you. The thought of sliding your interface panel back on crosses your mind, but your anterior node and valve are still throbbing so tenderly you can’t will yourself to do it.

You hadn’t realized you closed your optics until Megatron’s approaching pedsteps makes you open them again. He stands before your sprawled, ruined frame, a sheer fiber cloth in his servo, reaching to clean you. Silently, he wipes up the glowing transfluid that’s stained your berth, then moves to clean what’s left on your body.

For a long few moments, the sounds of your cooling fans cycling down, wings softly scraping on your berth, and Megatron’s movements fill your habsuite. At some point, you hear the distinct click of Megatron’s interface panel closing and you tilt your helm up to see him putting his spike away. Also distinctly, the slight burn of soreness as Megatron wipes your exposed valve of excess transfluid.

You’d need to wash regardless, but it’s the thought that counts.

“That was...” And you have no words. Your voice sounds distant and far away, like you’re listening to yourself whisper from miles away. Megatron hums to fill your silence, then you hear the muffled sound of the cloth being discarded somewhere in your room.

“May I join you for the night?” Your Lord’s question is far more polite than it needs to be, considering the circumstances, but it’s 

“Of course.” Your answer is quick and sure, marked by the tremendous effort you put in to roll onto your side, even though you still can’t quite feel your legs. You watch Megatron around your berth and sit at your side. He stretches, silver armor plates shifting and whirring back into place, the length of his back struts revealing his hidden Energon lines.

Then he swings his peds up and lays beside you like it’s the most normal action he’s ever done. Though you do have to scoot over until your wings stick out past the edge.

“I would like for this to be a repeated venture,” Megatron teases after he settles himself, “And if you will accept, for this to be continued past a successful newspark creation.”

He glances at you out the corner of his optic, its glow dimmed. You smile.

He’s never been one for grand romantic gestures, never one to speak about softer, kinder things like “love” or “sparkbonding”. It’s unbecoming of him, the Leader of the Decepticons, former gladiator of Kaon, dark Lord and powerful Master. You don’t know if he’d ever pose the actual question, or if it will remain as nebulous, vague riddles and coded phrases for you to decipher and analyze. It isn’t in Lord Megatron’s making to be tender— At least not in the explicit regards.

“I want nothing less for the sire of my offspring.” You reply, your frame curling around the curve of his chassis, servo finding the same spot it always had: Right above his insignia, above his spark. His engine rumbles evenly, the steady drumming could bring you to power down, though you’re kept awake by the pleasant ache between your legs, the chill of the Nemesis, and the pride in bearing your Lord an heir. 

~ * ~ * ~

epilogue

Your berth is too small, much too small, for two Cybertronians attempting to recharge upon it. Megatron keeps an arm wrapped under and around you to prevent you from falling off, your frame halfway atop his. One of your servos rests under your helm, the other lazily traces invisible shapes on his broad chassis. Both of your EM fields mingle, the waves pulsing to each other in rhythm.

Earthen hours have passed since your coupling, and though you’re tired, you find yourself unable to slip into recharge.

“My Lord?” You catch his attention, Megatron optics flickering back as he pulls himself from the onset of recharge. Part of you regrets keeping him awake— Primus only knows how many sleepless nights your leader subjects himself to— and the other part of you quietly marvels at how he was nearly dozing in your arms. What show of trust is as great as that?

“If I am to carry, this means the Decepticon cause loses one of its strongest warriors—” You sigh happily as the warlord shifts so that his servo rubs your wings, tenderly caressing sensitive transformation seams and Energon lines. What more you wanted to say dies on your glossa, too caught up in the tender display of affection your Lord gives you.

“A temporary hindrance.” Megatron rumbles, shuttering his optics once again and stating, “The Decepticons will prevail.”

It falls quiet, fully so for a handful of clicks until you pipe up again.

“... And, we will need protoforms. And transitionary metals and alloys. And start the process of distilling Energon into low-grade, sparkling-safe—”

Megatron silences you with a deep kiss, one that has you purring in delight and cupping his faceplates. He lingers on your dermas for a few beats, his EM field heavy and warm on yours, lulling you closer to recharge. Megatron parts, settling down on his back struts, his frame creaking and hissing air as he relaxes. Then he sighs:

“We will discuss technicalities in the morning.”

#transformers #transformers prime #tfp #tfp megatron #megatron #megatron x reader #megatron x you #megatron x femme #megatron x cybertronian reader #cybertronian reader #femme reader

[toomanybrainrots]

I really liked your fic with Jessica rabbit reader and swerve can you do something like that but with whirl?

I’m glad you like that one! I hope that doing this with Whirl is easier cause he’s equally as goofy and silly but also very unhinged.

Whirl with a Cybertronian S/O with the dynamic of Jessica and Roger Rabbit

Whirl eternally smitten with you

Any chance he gets, he will gush over you and/or praise you, he sometimes does it on purpose to be annoying and fuck with people

Honestly, he’s both in disbelief and pride at how he pulled someone as fucking beautiful and amazing as you as his conjunx but he is not complaining one bit

He is an unhinged bot and he will do anything for a little smooch from you

Sometimes you have to be his self control before he does something too stupid

Whenever he does get a smooch however, he always melts and gets all giddy

He’s so smug about it too

You find it adorable at how terribly he flirts and his terrible pick up lines

“Quick, we have to save my conjunx!” You said. Whirl had gotten kidnapped by some alien race because - primus knows why - he had angered them.

“What do you even see in him?” Rodimus asked, sounding genuinely curious. Whirl was a…unique individual, an individual no one would even imagine getting a conjunx like you.

“He makes me laugh”

Whenever Whirl gets drunk at Swerve’s, he sometimes mistakes you for someone else when you drag him to your shared quarters

You appreciate his loyalty, and love him…even if he doesn’t realize you were his conjunx.

#transformers #maccadam #maccadams #transformers x reader #x reader #x gender neutral reader #x cybertronian reader #whirl x reader #whirl x cybertronian reader