#transformers fanfic

[archie-sunshine]

Peacetime(Hot Rod Gets Slammed Down Bigstyle)(TF: CYBERVERSE)

SYNOPSIS: Hot Rod is bored during the relative peace that the wall has brought. He comms Soundwave for some fun. Soundwave says Hot Rod can't handle more than a quickie with him. Hot Rod makes an ill advised bet about it. (aka Hot Rod Gets Slammed Down Bigstyle)

Word Count: 4,764

TAGS: Soundwave/Hot Rod, overstimulation, humiliation, degradation, frenemies with benefits, rivals with benefits, face fucking, dirty talk, valveplug, denial, teasing

Author's Notes: spiritual successor to the soundrod art I drew earlier this week. please enjoy!

It wasn’t as if peacetime wasn’t needed and loved and wanted on Cybertron. Not at all, really! Who could complain about a world without fighting, who could complain about a world where for the first time in millions of years Hot Rod didn’t really have to watch his back? 

Well… Hot Rod could. Things had slowed down, people were worrying about stuff like infrastructure and public services and reconstruction. Things were going back to normal but it was a hard sell, especially considering the entire populous was comprised of antsy trigger happy veterans who’s ‘normal’ was waiting for the call to arms. The wall certainly didn’t help either. Tensions were cooled between them, especially since the Quinteson incident, but there were still plenty of Autobots who scowled at the concept of just letting the Decepticons be after millions of years of intergalactic war. 

Hot Rod probably should have counted himself in that number, but he had it on good authority that the Decepticons weren’t all the same sharp, frightening cookie cutter shape that some bots painted them as. It still fragged with Hot Rod’s processor that he could be the type to stand up for the honor of a Decepticon, but… not all of his fellow Autobots had the experience that he did. 

All that complex dichotomy aside, the fact was that Hot Rod had gotten a bit fond of some cons. Particularly the inscrutable, obnoxious Soundwave. He didn’t exactly have a name for what he and Soundwave had, but it was fun. It was thrilling.

It was a series of ill advised hookups that technically broke the laws surrounding the ceasefire wall deal, but Hot Rod liked that kind of danger. It was the same reason he kept getting in bed with a bot that could have- and probably should have- killed him a thousand times over: Hot Rod was a thrill seeker. 

And so, as Hot Rod entered his hab unit and the lights flickered on, he was already in the process of comming the other mech. 

HR: Heyyyyyyy

Hot Rod took a seat on his sofa, flicking on his holovid projector and beginning to flick through the channels. He had to have something to keep him occupied while he waited for Soundwave to respond after all.

SW: What do you want.

Curt, annoyed, and curious were all good things for Soundwave to be in Hot Rod’s opinion. They were a good look on him, even over text. 

HR: You free tonite? ;P

He briefly paused his channel surfing on some old rerun of a- now ancient- cybertronian soap opera. 

SW: Maybe. Why?

Hot Rod raised a brow ridge to himself. Maybe? He pondered the best way to continue for a klik. 

HR: Maybe?

SW: I have work to get done.

HR: Sounds boring. You should come visit. 

SW: You gonna make it worth my time?

Hot Rod grinned, reclining into the sofa and kicking his pedes up on the table. Bingo. He fished around for his handheld transponder, fiddling around to get to a camera function. He let his legs fall apart and brushed a tantilizing servo up the edge of his panels as he snapped a picture and sent it off.

HR: I always do ;0

There was a long pause, maybe a few minutes even. Hot Rod kept opening and reopening their comms chat in his processor, willing a new message to appear.

Finally, after what felt like an hour(but was actually 5 kliks), Soundwave responded. 

SW: I’ll be there. 

It was fun to mess around with a partner like Soundwave, usually mechs and femmes alike were falling all over themselves for a piece of his hot speedster frame, but Soundwave played hard to get. It was- again- thrilling. He didn’t get why he was so into it, but he wasn’t about to examine it either. 

*

Hot Rod stared at the door to his unit, attempting to lounge gracefully(and sexily) as he waited for Soundwave to enter. He’d poured two cubes of engex for them to share, the kind that soundwave liked, the really light blue stuff.

The door to the hab slid open. 

“Glad you could make it, how was traffic?” Hot Rod crooned, attempting to look effortlessly relaxed

“You know I always go through the backstreets.” Soundwave said, stepping in and letting the door close behind him. He strolled up to the couch Hot Rod was reclining on and shoved his legs out of his way before sitting down. Hot Rod looked at him indignantly, wrinkling his nose at him. 

Soundwave ignored the look, picking up his cube and turning his faceplate away from Hot Rod to drink. 

“Things all good on your side of the wall, Wavey?” Hot Rod asked, sitting up and trying to recover with a different sexy pose. 

“Don’t act like you care, drink your engex.” He retorted flatly, gesturing at the cube. 

Hot Rod rolled his optics and picked up his own cube. “You’re no fun.”

“That can’t be true, considering you’re the one who keeps bothering me for a quickie.” Soundwave raised a brow ridge at the speedster. 

“Welllllll it doesn’t have to be a quickie, does it?” Hot Rod flirted, starting to sip his engex. “You could have me the whole night.”

Soundwave snorted. “Please. With your stamina? You couldn’t handle more than 2 hours, let alone the whole night.” 

“I could too!” Hot Rod snapped. He took an indignant swig of engex and folded his arms. “I bet I could run circles around you.” 

Soundwave finished his cube, slamming it on the table and finally turning to face Hot Rod. “Bet you can’t.” 

“Well why don’t we find out?” Hot rod sneered, all flirtation melting away in favour of competition. “We’ll make it a real bet. 50 shanix says I can take whatever you throw at me, 4 hours of whatever you can dish out.”

“Whatever I throw at you? You’re playing with fire, Hot Rod.” Soundwave’s voice had lowered a bit, clearly showing his interest. 

“Well thats fine then, I can take the heat.” Hot Rod boasted.

“I don’t want your shanix.” 

“What?” 

“I don’t want shanix.” Soundwave repeated, shifting a bit closer, looming over the other’s frame. “When I prove you wrong, the next 3 times you need a hookup, you’ll drag your sorry aft over the border to my hab unit and beg me to spike you down in person.” 

Hot Rod’s engine flared, heat coming up to his faceplate. “W-Well alright-! And when I run circles around you, uh- um-” Hot Rod wracked his processor for a good enough punishment. “I get to put it in your port next time we do it.” He stuck his servo out with a malicious grin. 

Soundwave shook it, not letting go when Hot Rod tried to pull away. “You’re gonna regret this, Hot Rod.” 

*

Some had called Hot Rod a bit of a nymphomaniac. It was a bit of a harsh word, and not at all true, he thought about and did plenty of things other than interface. Others called him shareware, which was rude, but… not an unfitting title. Everyone knew he got around, which to some more uptight bots would be considered a mark on his character.

Hot Rod just considered it practice. 

He leaned into Soundwave’s servo as it slid down the top of his crest to the back of his helm. Soundwave’s spike was heavy and thick in Hot Rod’s intake, sleek white and smooth on the bottom with blue ridges around the top. He could feel his cheeks distending from the stretch as he bobbed his helm in the larger mech’s lap. His fans had kicked on a few kliks ago, shuddering to life as his frame fought against overheating. He let the tip of his spike rub against the back of his throat, laving his glossa luxuriously against the underside of Soundwave’s shaft. 

He allowed himself a pleased little hip wiggle when the larger bot stifled a moan from the stimulation, which earned him a tighter grip on the helm and an exasperated scoff. “You’re ridiculous.” Soundwave grunted, rocking his pelvis up into Hot Rod’s mouth and making him choke. He just slid his dermas tighter around Soundwave’s spike and pushed himself down harder. He forced back a gag as it passed into his throat, nearly hitting his vocalizer as he began to nestle his nose against the top edge of Soundwave’s lifted modesty panel. He swallowed around him, flicking his optics up to the other mech’s and winking. 

HR: still think you’re gonna win? 

SW: Want me to stop going easy on you?

Their gaze stayed locked on each other, a spark of competitiveness glinting in Hot Rod’s optics. 

HR: Do your worst, big guy.

The comm had barely appeared in their channel before Soundwave shifted his position, rolling Hot Rod over onto his back with his spike still in his mouth and beginning to thrust deep into the autobot’s waiting throat. Hot Rod let out a choked gurgle. His servos flew up to claw at Soundwave’s thighs. 

“Don’t be so dramatic, I know you can take it like a good bot.” He growled out, steadying himself on the arm of the sofa. The rhythmic clank of Soundwave’s hips hitting Hot Rod’s face filled the room. 

Hot Rod’s optics flickered and thinned out as his fans roared. He could feel his frame shuddering. He was so desperately wet and strained behind his panels he thought he might die. He could feel the pings in his processor demanding him to relieve the pressure, demanding he open his panels and let his array breathe. 

Soundwave slammed in particularly hard, hitting the back of his throat. Hot Rod let out a muffled whine,  his thighs quivering as he fought to keep his throat from spasming. He began to open his panels, hoping to give himself just the barest amount of relief.

A servo jammed down between the gaps between Hot Rod’s panel and abdominal plating, holding his modesty panel shut. Hot Rod’s back arched. A gurgling wail escaped his vocalizer, drowned in intake lubricant. “Ah- Don’t think so~...” Soundwave chuckled, keeping his spike hilted in the speedster’s throat. “You wanna last, don’t you?” 

“Mm-Mghhf!” Hot Rod growled, squirming under the bigger bot. He went to bite down, finding Soundwave’s other servo coming down to jam a thumb between his jaws to keep him open. 

“If I knew you were gonna be this much of a mess,  I’d have asked for more from you.” He taunted, beginning to grind his hips into his throat again. “Keep those panels shut, got it?” 

“Mhhn…!” Hot Rod whimpered, offlining his optics as he willed his modesty panel shut. 

“Good bot… see thats the nice thing about you autobots.” Soundwave grunted, once again beginning to jackhammer into Hot Rod’s throat. “You always do what you’re told.” 

Hot Rod growled indignantly, hoping to sound intimidating and angry. It came out more like a gurgle, spittle bubbling around the edges of his intake. 

“You can’t help it, can you? It’s in your programing, any big bad mech could walk up to you and if he told you to jump you’d ask how high.” He laughed raspily, pulling out almost all the way. 

He watched Hot Rod’s chassis heave and quiver for a moment, trying to get his frame under control. He watched the speedster take a long, heavy in vent, waited until it was about to leave him, then jammed his spike back home. 

Soundwave savoured the desperate choking noise that eked out of Hot Rod’s throat. 

Hot Rod wheezed. His frame felt taught and overheated, processor fuzzy with pings warning him of the stress on his throat and jaw, the strain of his fans, and again, begging, PLEADING for him to open his panels. His digits weakly gripped at Soundwave’s plating one last time before limply petting at the metal there. His frame went pliant and limp underneath him. 

Soundwave laughed to himself breathily, slowing to a halt and carefully drawing his spike out of Hot Rod’s intake. A gush of prefluid and saliva splattered across Hot Rod’s chest. The autobot coughed weakly, glaring ineffectually up at Soundwave. 

“Want me to go back to being easy on you, Roddy?” He taunted, bringing a servo down to stroke slowly at his own spike. 

“N-No chance…” Hot Rod growled hoarsely, sitting up and wiping at his face with the back of his servo. 

“Good bot. Let’s get you to the berth then.” Hot Rod couldn’t get a word in edgewise before he was being lifted bodily off the sofa and flung over Soundwave’s shoulder. 

Hot Rod cycled his vocalizer, coughing again and continuing to wipe his dermas. Embarrassment nibbled at the back of his mind at his messiness. He wanted to flip the positions, try pistoning into Soundwave’s- well if he had an intake he’d frag it silly, see how he liked it. Hot Rod was broken out of his stewing anger by the sound of Soundwave snickering to himself. 

“What-!” Hot Rod snapped, the question cut off as Soundwave drew a digit up the edge of his panels. Oh no. 

“You’re leaking, Hot Rod.” Soundwave sing-songed. He gathered the prefluid up between his digits and rubbed them together absently as he unceremoniously dumped Hot Rod onto his berth. 

The speedster quickly squeezed his legs together around his panels, trying to hide his eagerness. He winced at the feeling, rivulets of slick prefluid smearing against his plating. Soundwave looked down at him, amusement clear across his borderline unreadable faceplate. 

“Shut up…” Hot Rod muttered. 

“You shouldn’t have made the bet.” He chuckled, reaching forwards and effortlessly knocking Hot Rod’s legs apart. He stood between his knees, slowly smoothing his servos over Hot Rod’s armour. “Nice paint job, you buff it before I got here?”

“Pfft… no, you’re not worth the trouble..” Hot Rod rolled his optics. For the record he had shined his armour a bit before Soundwave got there, but that wasn’t even for him! It was… y’know, for someone else.

“Oh I’m not worth the trouble?” Soundwave arced a brow ridge. “So who were you thinking about that made this happen, huh?” Hot Rod hissed as Soundwave knocked two of his knuckles on his panels, optics fizzing and fritzing as his processor produced yet another urgent pressure warning for his array. It was starting to hurt, he could feel his array hot with energon, mashed against the back of the panel. 

“H-hhn- S-soundwave-” He gritted out, clenching his fists. 

Soundwave leaned down to whisper in his audial. “I dunno, Hot Rod, I think this was all me right here…” Hot Rod’s invent punched out of him in a surprised moan when Soundwave ground the heel of his palm against his panels. He dimly felt his processor ping another warning. His engine revved loudly as he arched his back, helm clanging against the berth. 

“But if you’re so sure it wasn’t we can call off this bet right now, call it a draw, let you get your valve pounded out by some other mech, huh?” Soundwave crooned. Steam poured out of Hot Rod’s dermas. 

“N-No-!” He whined out too quickly, his face suddenly even hotter with shame. He went to dismiss his needy beg,“I- hhahhh-” The words fell apart in his vocalizer. His jaw dropped open and his optics went lidded. He ground his hips up, his array burning as Soundwave pressed his modesty panel down against the soft protoform with two digits, slowly moving the panel in little circles. “Ggghh- P-please- Primus- frag- j-ju-just lemme open- S-Soundwave-!” He babbled, gripping at the bigger mech’s sides desperately. 

“Aw… Hot Rod, are you saying… you can’t… take it…” Soundwave drew his words out slowly, venting steam into Hot Rod’s audial. 

“N-no- I can- ah- I’m- Hhuaahh- I’m f-fine- I haven’t evennNnnNn gotten ss-st-started!” He tried to boast, even through the embarrassing moans that he was letting out. Finally Soundwave let up, and Hot Rod went limp against the berth, fans stuttering to vent off excess heat. 

Soundwave leaned back and folded his arms, looking down at the autobot as he shuddered and whined. Hot Rod tried to look aloof and fine, even with the coolant already beading on his brow and the way his frame was quivering like a leaf. 

“S-...See? I’m just fine… completely normal.” Hot Rod panted out, giving Soundwave a shaky smirk. 

“Alright. Open up.” Soundwave ordered, flicking his panels one last time as Hot Rod jolted and glared at him. Hot Rod offlined his optics, body shuddering as he finally opened his panels. He felt embarrassment, hot and thick, gathering in his tanks. His spike shot out of it’s casing like a rocket, already pulsing and drenched in prefluid. His valve was no different, puffy and needy, his anterior node peeking between the plush lips. He was completely soaked, so much so that a puddle of the stuff splattered out onto his berth as his panels tucked away. 

Hot Rod bit his glossa to keep from howling as Soundwave drew a digit up through his lips, over his node, and up the underside of his twitching spike. “Primus you’re easy. Can’t believe you got off this much on me fragging your throat. Maybe I should do it more.” 

“Not on your life- n-not after I win-” Hot Rod taunted feebly. “You won’t be able to walk right for a week when I get done with you-O-OUH-” 

“You’re cuter when you stop talking so much.” Soundwave sighed, rocking his fingers up to rub at the front two calipers of Hot Rod’s valve. He drew his fingers apart, mapping the edges of his yielding hole as he brought them down and together along the edges. 

He pulled his servo back, lifting them to Hot Rod’s waiting intake and jamming the two slick digits in. Hot Rod wined, saliva dripping from his dermas as Soundwave mashed the flavour of his own prefluid into his glossa.

“That’s enough foreplay, don’t you think?” Soundwave teased, cocking his head playfully. 

*

Hot Rod could feel his legs quaking. He felt like he was going to break his dentas from how hard he was gritting them. His fans felt like they were on the verge of melting under their own heat. 

Soundwave stroked his servo up Hot Rod’s spike again, squeezing just enough to milk out another dribble of prefluid. He could feel every burst of steam that escaped the bigger mech’s vents, condensation gathering against the side of the speedster’s helm. He could feel how stretched he was around the decepticon’s spike, but Soundwave refused to move, leaving him impaled on it to suffer as he gritted back his moans. 

“You know, I’m not on this side of the wall often, but don’t worry, I know all about the kind of reputation you have… I hear you pick up so many mechs you might as well be a taxi service..” Soundwave murmured in his audial, spreading his digits over the head of Hot Rod’s spike and teasing the edges. “How many of them treat you like this, huh?” 

“Nnn-N…None-!” Hot Rod gritted out, offlining his optics to focus on venting the heat and not immediately crumbling to a pleading mess. “T-they’re all act-tually NICE to mm-mme!” His voice stuttered as Soundwave drew his digits up again, teasing his slit and massaging the shaft lightly. 

“Thats funny, I didn’t think anyone had the time to be nice to a nasty little piece of shareware like you…” Soundwave growled, slowly grinding his hips up to push against Hot Rod’s soft protoform. Hot Rod bit his derma tightly, clenching his digits around Soundwave’s thighs. That taunt made his processor spin. “They usually use their pretty little valves and toss them aside. Only difference between you and some street walking whore is that you're persistent.” 

Hot Rod let out a moan, finally opening his mouth with a burst of steam. He grit his dentas back together, rolling his hips into Soundwave’s palm as he began to stroke his shaft again. 

“I thought you’d move on after our little hookup but you're obsessed… they say not to humour animals like you so they don’t follow you home.” Soundwave growled, bringing his free hand up to grip possessively at his chassis. Hot Rod keened weakly at the insult, his faceplate flushed bright pink and hot with energon. “But you can’t help it can you? You love it, you love this spike, don’t you?” 

Hot Rod mewled as Soundwave pinched at the base of his spike, rubbing his thumb across his anterior node. “S.. suh- Soundwave-” He gasped, optics sparking. 

“Go on, say it…” Soundwave prompted, stroking his hand up his chassis and taking hold of Hot Rod’s chin. “Tell me how you love it, Roddy…” 

“I- hhhnm..” He moaned. His optics flickered. He was just being unfair now, rubbing at his node like that while he began to gently thrust up into his valve. “I- l–love it-” He huffed out under his breath.

“What was that? Come on, you can do better than that…” Soundwave teased, rubbing his middle two digits against his anterior node while his thumb came around to stroke the base of his spike. He drew his own spike back, slamming it back into Hot Rod’s valve. 

It was like he’d broken something. “I-I LOVE IT!! F-frag! I love your s-spike Soundwave!!” He wailed out, spittle flying from his dermas and across Soundwave’s hand. “I love it- I-I love it ff-fraaaag, primus- please- I- Ohhh s-slaaaggg…!!” His voice bounced pathetically as Soundwave began to thrust up into him. He could feel his spike bobbing in Soundwave’s grip, now squeezed tight at the base. “I’m aa-aallyours, nnhh- nomore- ah- no more s-shareware- f-frag- I’m all yours-!” Hot Rod babbled deliriously. 

Soundwave chuckled in his audial, before speeding up his servo, his spike suddenly beginning to vibrate. To say Hot Rod screamed was an understatement. It sounded like his vocalizer was being shredded, glitching and fritzing and leaping in tone as overload washed through his frame. He thought he might die, his body shaking as he rode out the sensations that refused to let up. Every bit of his wiring tingled with lightning, every ounce of his frame wracked with pleasure. He felt another burst of steam flush over his audial.

“Loser.” Soundwave whispered.

And that was it. Hot rod arched his back, clanking his helm hard against Soundwave’s shoulder as his transfluid splattered across the floor and Soundwave’s hand. His valve cycled down tightly around Soundwave’s spike, pulsing and throbbing. He was distantly aware he was making some pretty unflattering noises, but more than that he couldn’t even see past the cloud of white that overtook his optics. He jerked and crackled, steaming with spent charge as he finished and went limp against the larger mech’s chassis. 

He was ebbing into an early recharge when he felt Soundwave’s servos close around his hips. He snapped back to full consciousness as he felt him swing his frame around until Hot Rod was face down on the berth. 

“Bwuh-?” Hot Rod moaned intelligently. 

“Oh, I thought you could take a full four hours, Roddy!” Soundwave feigned surprise, pulling his spike back until he was teasing the oversensitive node with his tip. “And besides, you still owe me at least one overload.” 

Hot Rod keened as Soundwave slid back in and began hammering into his valve. “Nnnhh-! Oooohhhh Primussss…” He whined, vocalizer shot and hoarse. “I- ah- s-Soundwave I caaan’t!”

“Oh you can’t?” He felt a servo slide from his hips up to his spoiler. Soundwave gripped the delicate bit of metal tightly, using it as leverage to slam Hot Rod’s hips against his. “I thought you said-” there was a quiet fizzle before Hot Rod’s own voice repeated back from Soundwave’s speaker. “I could run circles around you- Didn’t you say that Roddy?” 

Hot Rod let his jaw hang open, processor filled with warnings and popups as overstimulation forced his spike to stiffen. “Nn- Nuh uhh..” He moaned. 

“Doesn’t ring a bell? How about this one?” Soundwave adjusted his grip, hooking an arm under Hot Rod’s chin and pulling him up into a headlock. All the while his hips jackhammered away. He could already feel the blue paint transfers forming on his aft. “-ag! I love your s-spike Soundwave!!” Hot Rod keened in humiliation at his own voice. “That sounds more like you, doesn’t it, shareware?”

“S-soundwaaave- PLEASE-!” Hot Rod wailed. “I C-CAN’T!” 

“I need one last thing from you, Roddy…” Soundwave crooned. Hot Rod could feel his spike twitching inside him, nearing overload. 

“U-uhuhh??” Hot Rod whimpered, clawing weakly at Soundwave’s arms. 

“Admit you’re a big stupid loser.” Soundwave snickered, snapping his hips forwards and making Hot Rod’s optics fizzle. 

A lance of heat shot through Hot Rod’s already overheated form, his body suddenly tense, strung tight with need. Why was all of this doing this to him? He was being… so cruel… “Nn-gguhh-! C-Come onn-!” He whined out. 

“Say it, tell me what a big stupid loser you are!” Soundwave cackled, reaching a servo down to begin jerking Hot Rod’s spent spike. 

“Oh-OH-OH PRIMUS-” Hot Rod wailed. “I’M A BIG S-STUPID LOSER!! FRAGG-F-FRAG- I’M AN IDIOT FOR T-TUH-TAKING THAT BETTT!!” 

Soundwave growled in his audial, pounding his spike in one last time before Hot Rod could feel a gush of transfluid hit his ceiling node. 

He felt his vision white out again as his frame rocked through a second, more painful overload. He felt his processor short and then empty, his optics forcibly offlined again. 

His frame jerked and spasmed weakly until finally Soundwave mercifully pulled out. To say the gush of transfluid that coated Hot Rod’s thighs was embarrassing was an understatement. It was like a fragging waterfall. 

And to make it worse, Soundwave just unceremoniously dropped him on the berth, only adjusting him long enough to make sure he didn’t fall off before beginning to pace around the room. He was making haughty flexing gestures, playing his own personal victory music as he gloated. 

“C-c’mon I didn’t do that bad-!” Hot rod panted, lifting his quivering legs up onto the recharge slab. Without even looking at him, Soundwave flexed over his shoulder, conveniently pointing at the clock on Hot Rod’s berthroom wall. 

Hot Rod paled. “N-no, that can’t be right.”

“Not even an hour and a half, barely an hour and fifteen.” Soundwave confirmed. He did a nasty little turn, waggling his shoulders as he remixed Hot Rod’s words back at him. “C-c-c-c-could run circles arou-ou-OHH PRIMUS!”

“QUIT IT!” Hot Rod shouted, faceplate flaring with embarrassment. 

“-BIG STUPID L-L-L-LOSER!” Soundwave parroted at him, continuing his victory dance. Hot Rod buried his face in his servos, shouting in agony at the embarrassment. 

He felt Soundwave eventually sit on the edge of the berth, shoving him a bit out of his way as he climbed up to relax. He let his victory music die down as he folded his servos behind his helm. 

There was a long klik of quiet between them.

“... you don’t really think of me like that, yeah?” Hot Rod asked meekly. Soundwave raised a brow ridge. Hot Rod Cycled his vocalizer. “Like an annoying animal that followed you home.” He clarified. 

Soundwave glanced away. “... No. You’re not like that.” He muttered. 

“So what am I like?” Hot Rod probed. 

“Tight, wet, and easy.” Soundwave said matter of factly. Hot Rod punched his arm, scoffing and rolling his optics. 

“You’re the worst.” Hot rod grumbled. “I don’t even know why I invite you over.”

“Invite is putting a bit of a slant on it.” Soundwave mused. “I didn’t know begging for spike was an invitation.”

“Ha Ha.” Hot Rod said flatly, shifting into a more comfortable position. “Now shut up I’m trying to recharge.” 

“Oh yeah? I’ll join you then.” Soundwave said. 

“What- No you’ve gotta go-” Hot Rod started, before Soundwave reached over with one harm and pulled him up tight against his frame. He rolled over and squeezed, holding him like a teddy bear. Hot Rod went pink, optics wide and blinking in confusion. 

“Night Roddy.” Soundwave said nonchalantly. 

“Yeah.. uh… Night Wavey.” Hot Rod mumbled. 

Hot Rod offlined his optics, trying to sink into recharge without thinking about how tightly he was pressed against the ‘con. If he wanted he could easily kill him right now, he was already pinned. 

Hot Rod let out a long, quiet sigh, leaning into Soundwave’s embrace. 

Primus, he was glad it was peacetime. 

#transformers fanfic #transformers cyberverse #tf cyberverse #soundrod #soundwave #hot rod #cyberverse soundwave #cyberverse hotrod #transformers #my art #my fic #smut #valveplug

[acoffeemug]

Megs at Swerve's

*CLANG* Headshot

Hehehe my mind goes brrrrrr

The bringer of blessing is

@whatwooshkai

Nah, for real imah sleep... ×͜×

#transformers fanfic #tf second chances blue #tf earthspark #HAHAman #tf megop #tf Megatron #macaddam #NowICanRestInPieces #maybe #transformers #acoffeemug art

[botboots]

Hey! I'm probably SOOO late to transformers fanfics and one shots but I've come with this prompt,( I hope you like it enough to write it!) could you write Ratchet x injured reader, g/n or female. Injured shoulder, and maybe trying to hide it from him? Also in Tfp? If all this isnt too much to ask? Thank you for considering! Have a good day/ night

a/n: heehee this one was fun. the dialogue is kinda splotchy because theres a lot going on in my brain rn but!! hope you like it <3 also reader is cybertronian bc there are NOT enough cybertronian!reader fics out there and theyre very fun to write tbh. hope thats okay!!

ALSO! guidelines have been updated so before anyone submits a new req please read it! and please please request mirage/rotb fics oh my god im obsessed with it ROTB WAS SO GOOD </33

warnings: very minor injuries, pining <3 word count: 1059 (GN, cybertronian!reader) continued under the cut

-----------------

The purple and green swirl of the ground-bridge closed behind you as you followed your team back into base, the lingering energy buzzing under your plating.

Glancing at Bumblebee, a small twinge of pity struck you as he made his way over to the medical bay. The scout had taken a few nasty punches from Breakdown and clearly wasn’t feeling too hot; dents littering his armor.

“We showed ‘em, huh?” your focus was snatched when Bulkhead caught you off guard with his usual celebratory elbow-bump, sending you stumbling a little from the force. A sharp pain ran up your arm to your shoulder and you winced.

“Yea- totally.” sending the wrecker a strained smile, you gave him a half-hearted push back. He tilted his head, about to open his mouth to ask you something when Miko booked it over to the two of you, questions spilling out of her mouth at a mile a minute. All of them were something gore or violence related, asking Bulkhead if he got any pictures of some “hardcore massacre-ing”. The girl's interests were a little concerning, but endearing. Nonetheless, you took the opportunity to slink away and avoid any more attention. Angling your helm, your face scrunched up at the sight - and feeling - of the wound on your shoulder.

Too focused on the fight in front of you, a stray Vehicon had been able to sneak up behind you and catch you by surprise. Fortunately for you, Vehicons were mass trained for quantity over quality and didn’t have the best shots. The blast grazed your shoulder, tearing between some of your paneling to the barely exposed wires. It hurt like a bitch at first, but adrenaline buried it enough that it wouldn’t distract you - plus it was small enough that none of your team noticed. Now that you were back at base, though, the piercing sting prodded at your processor incessantly. You did want to go and see Ratchet about it - always finding some kind of excuse to be around the mech - but he was dealing with Bumblebee right now, and you didn’t want to add to his plate. Not like it was anything life-threatening, anyway. You could just try and patch it up yourself - you’ve spent enough time with Ratchet to pick up a few things yourself.

You stole a glance at said medic, who you only just noticed was looking right at you. Immediately you realized from the questioning look on his face, raised brow and all, he had probably caught both your reaction to Bulkhead bumping into you and the grimace you had made at your shoulder. Optimistic, you shook your head at him, giving the mech a meager thumbs-up and a “I'm-actually-totally-fine” smile. He gave you a hard stare, and your spark sank when he motioned you over with a flick of his digits. You begrudgingly made your way over to the medical bay. As you neared, Ratchet had already cleared Bumblebee and was shooing him out. The scout passed you, and your attention was focused on Ratchet waiting with a cocked helm and his ever-present RBF. Standing awkwardly under his gaze, almost scrutinizing, you huffed. Without a word, the red and white medic picked up his scanner, turning it on with a loud click and running the green laser over your frame.

“Really, doc - I’m fine. It’s nothing.” you tried, and failed, as he kept the device lingering at your shoulder. With a deadpan look covering his faceplate, he put the scanner down and placed his servos over your shoulder plating. You grit your denta to keep a pained hiss from leaving you, wincing when he felt around the frayed wiring.

“Nothing, huh?” you pouted at his scoff, his metal brows knitted together as he examined the shot that had barely missed doing any serious damage. “Sit.” he ordered, gesturing to the medical berth while he moved to grab some tools from a nearby counter. Embarrassment was settling in your chassis, but you did as you were told.

It technically didn’t take long to patch you up, but the old mech made it seem like eons to you with the way he was muttering about “some of the team having egos too big for their own good.” It only made the burn of embarrassment grow, and you ducked your head when he gave you a pointed look. Ratchet was nothing if not thorough in ensuring you knew when he disapproved of something.

Soon enough he finished up, giving the patched wound a once-over.

“Anything else you’re not telling me?” he questioned, the familiar lilt of sarcasm back in his tone. That at least steadied your nerves a little.

“No, sir.” you mocked, raising one of your servos in a half-assed salute.

He scowled, crossing his arms, “I’ll have Optimus enforce mandatory health checks every time you come back to base.”

Frantically shaking your helm, you raised both servos defensively, “Okay, okay!” you sputtered, “Won’t happen again.” His optics narrowed, giving you a hard stare, and you released a heavy sigh. “Promise.”

Ratchet debated it for a moment, still having half a mind to just assign the checks anyway, but as you kept your optics trained on his, the mech’s will buckled and he huffed a quick, “Good.”

You both were staring at each other for just a moment too long before Ratchet gave a quick cough. “Come back if the pain flares up again.” he waved you off as he made his way back to his usual spot at the terminal. You blinked, watching him walk off with a slightly heated face. Awkward. Hopping off the medical berth, you were careful not to irritate your shoulder and mess it up more than it already was. As you walked past Bumblebee he whirred to grab your attention. You paused, turning your head to him with a raised metal brow.

The scout chirped at you teasingly from where he sat, nodding his head way too obviously towards you and then Ratchet, who was already burying himself back in his work. Your optics widened, immediately narrowing into an offended glare as you jabbed a digit towards him.

“Don't. Even.” you grumbled, folding your arms and walking briskly away from Bumblebee’s poorly stifled, chittering laugh that echoed behind you. Your previous pity for the mech quickly dissipated as your faceplate burned. Primus.

#transformers #transformers x reader #transformers fanfiction #tf x reader #tfp x reader #transformers prime #transformers ratchet x reader #tfp ratchet x reader #ratcher x reader #transformers fanfic #tfp fanfic

[lets-try-some-writing]

Heavy is the Head that Wears the Crown

Based off this post. Enjoy this short little thing.

Many times the Matrix was given, and many times its bearers writhed in agony at its touch. The priests told them they were worthy.

But Optimus knows he is not.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━

The priests always said that he was worthy. Like every Prime before him, Optimus's frame forever ached with the weight of the holy relic he bore. Fire leapt in his fuel lines. His hydraulics burned with exertion that he had done nothing to earn. Every waking moment was a form of torture as the relic within him made its opinion quite clear.

He was not worthy.

━━━━━━

"Your station is the most holy on all of Cybertron. Bear this weight with pride." The priests smiled as he passed, gilded in gold and draped in fine cloths. The people cheered as they saw him step out of the Citadel. He despised it.

They did not know the pain that came from carrying the relic within him. They did not know that just like every single Prime who came before him, he was not intended for this station.

"Rise, Optimus Prime." The head priest blessed him as he stood before the masses. The Matrix burned within his spark chamber, reminding him that he did not belong.

"Glory to the Empire!" The people shouted in joy. Optimus remained still, his battlemask ever present as he watched the celebration. Whispers spoke in the back of his mind, murmurs offering wisdom even as his spark flared in quiet agony.

The price he paid for divine knowledge was high. Such was the consequence of imposing on Primus's most holy.

━━━━━━

"You make an excellent Prime." Ratchet smiled as Optimus passed by. The doctor affixed his brooch to his cape, and while the act was tender, the Matrix thrummed in warning. If his corrupted form was to taint the divinity of the Primes, he was to have no joy.

"Now we can make some real change!" Ironhide exclaimed with glee as he patted Optimus on the back. Optimus nodded, but he did not smile. He was not allowed to smile. The Matrix was clear.

Every decision he made was done with agony clouding his thoughts. He learned to stop twitching when the Matrix caused his nerves to shoot with pain. He quickly silenced his instinctual cries when his plating felt so tight around him that he might suffocate.

"You alright Prime?" Jazz asked after one long cycle of legislation discussion. Optimus said nothing. Voicing his pain would bring only suffering to those around him.

"Of course." He answered simply. Jazz didn't believe him. No one did.

━━━━━━

"The Decepticons have turned Kaon into a fortress. It won't be long until they march on Tarn too." Prowl frowned as he hunched over a map. Optimus stood still, his vision hazy as ghostly forms surrounded him. Their glares were so intense that he couldn't help the way his plating flared.

"You are not worthy." They whispered as Optimus pointed out a location on the map, the knowledge of his unworthy predecessors guiding his thoughts.

The forms of the old gods pressed up against him, their ghostly frames burning everywhere they touched. The only ones who did not harm him where those who shared his fate. Countless presences wrapping around him and shielding him from the wrath of the ancient horrors that denied him the holy rank he had been forced to bear.

"Send our forces to the northern border and prepare for war. Cybertron will not fall." The ghostly optics never left him as he made his declaration. They held no love for him.

━━━━━━

"Sir, we need you." Ultra Magnus reached out, touching Optimus's shoulder as he looked out over the remains of the burning city of Rodion. It had all happened so fast. The flames of war engulfed their world before he had the chance to react.

"Please Prime, guide us." His Council begged, pleading with what they saw as the most holy for salvation. Optimus had nothing to give. The Matrix denied him. He could give no blessings or assurances.

"Optimus, what are we going to do?" One by one his companions came to him for comfort. Optimus's spark burned with righteous fury every time he offered another battle plan instead of some sort of prophecy, a promise of peace.

His frame forever burned. The Matrix cursed him, but the people needed him.

He would make himself worthy, if only to give his people something to cling to.

━━━━━━

"Energon shortages are increasing. This war is devastating the planet." Perceptor noted clinically. The rest of the war council grew grim. They knew how far their people had fallen. Centuries of war were killing their world and they all knew it.

"If a true Prime had been chosen, this would have never come to pass." The old gods whispered, their digits digging under his plating and setting his circuits alight with agony. Optimus did not react. He had long learned to remain silent when the Matrix saw fit to punish him for his hubris.

How a mortal could have ever dreamed of carrying the Matrix was beyond him. And yet, he had to be worthy. Whatever the Matrix said, his people needed him. Perhaps he was not a proper Prime, but he was all that remained.

He would tear himself apart to be worthy of the mantle he bore.

━━━━━━

"Optimus, your frame is falling to pieces! You need to rest!" Ratchet demanded as Optimus stood watch. His digits were shaky, as was now his regular state of being. His plating was cracked, his hydraulics were weakened, his optics strained more with every passing cycle. Already he had been forced to permanently wear his mask just to hide his eternal frown. It hurt too much to pretend anymore. Such was the curse of his station.

The longer he stood in the place of a divine, the more he deteriorated. All those who came before him fell this way. Optimus merely endured because he had to.

"Pride shall be your downfall oh foolish mortal." Their whispers forever haunted his audials. He could hardly recharge anymore. And yet, while Megatron still reigned, he could not falter.

"Orion, please, this has got to stop." Jazz pleaded with him as they prepared to leave Cybertron. He wasn't sure if Jazz meant the war or his increasing distance from his troops. Optimus wasn't sure he wanted to know.

He had to be worthy... there was no other choice.

━━━━━━

"Prime." Megatron met his gaze, and Optimus returned it. What was the use in fighting anymore? After so very long, they had new concerns. Cybertron needed to be restored. Their war was irrelevant.

"Let us get this over with." Optimus murmured as the words of the Matrix drowned out all else. He wished it could all end.

His frame was battered and he had not recharged properly in millennia. His life was one of pain. The Matrix never allowed him a moment's rest, not while he defiled it with his very existence. Over and over it murmured-

"You are not worthy."

He knew it, and he believed it.

━━━━━━

"Sup OP!" Hot Rod held out his first, an Earth custom that he had picked up from Primus knows where. Optimus stalled as the eternal whispers quieted. Hot Rod tilted his helm in confusion as Optimus reached up with shaky digits to wipe at his face.

It didn't hurt anymore.

"You are worthy." His voice was breathless as his knees felt weak. Megatron came to support him as Optimus struggled to stand upright. The pain had begun to fade. The Matrix sang with joy as he set his gaze upon the warrior before him.

"Prime, you alright?" Hot Rod nervously came forward, unsure how to act. Optimus retracted his mask. Those gathered gasped as Optimus dropped to a knee, a smile on his face.

"You are worthy." He repeated, echoing the words of the gods within him.

"What? I don't get it? What's going on?" Optimus continued to smile as the Matrix pulsed within him. He knew what it desired and he had no interest in denying it. Soon, very soon.

Soon he would not need to be worthy.

━━━━━━

Vorns came and went. Optimus endured the pain. Hot Rod needed more time. He was not prepared for his station, not yet. The Matrix flared every time he approached the warrior, prodding but not demanding, not yet.

But finally, after what felt like an eternity, the time had come.

"Hot Rod, will you accept this station?" Optimus asked, and the warrior before him paused. The mecha gathered around paused in their steps, dropping whatever they were doing to stare. Optimus had come from nowhere. He could see why they were concerned.

However, he could not wait any longer. Not when salvation stood before him.

"I don't understand." Hot Rod stared in confusion. Optimus smiled.

"You will. For unlike me... you are worthy." His chest plating parted, the Matrix shone. For one in his functioning, Optimus felt its approval. This was the correct choice.

The relic tore away from him, and Optimus fell to a knee as he caught it and held it out to the mech before him. The Matrix burned his servos as he touched it, but the holy fire merely served to have him shake. His freedom stood before him.

Hot Rod reached out, his hesitation obvious up until he touched the relic. A smile spread across his face. He looked as though he had found a piece of himself long lost. Optimus smiled alongside him as the Matrix finally found its Prime.

"Rise, Rodimus Prime." A new Prime stood before him, holy flame his to command. Optimus relished in the flames that whipped across his plating. They burned, but not as the Matrix had tormented him for so long.

He was free.

He was not worthy.

But he did not need to be.

#transformers #maccadam #optimus prime #hot rod #rodimus prime #the matrix of leadership #transformers fanfic #the matrix is an absolute glitch #religious symbolism #transformers idw

[veryconnoisseurcherryblossom]

Edging

Summary: You've been teasing Rodimus for 2 hours now, he deserves some release.

Pairing: Rodimus/Reader

Fandom: IDW Transformers

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No warnings

Tags: Edging, Overload Denial, Light BDSM Themes, Rodimus goes into Subspace

"B-babe, please, l-let me- please-"

Rodimus begged. He wasn't quite sobbing, but the fluid in his optics let you know that you needed to wrap up the scene soon. You hummed with false sincerity, carefully moving your hips around and causing Rodimus's vents to shudder, the tip of his spike grinding against the entrance of your valve.

"Alright, you've been a good boy- 10 seconds. Go."

The chronometer was set, and Rodimus immediately slammed his hips against yours, frantically thrusting into you with desperation. Biting your lip to keep you moans at bay, you silently counted down, each thrust hitting you right in the ceiling node with a delicious slap. Until...

"Time's up, Roddy."

The whine, Primus, the whine Rodimus emitted as he quickly stopped halfway thrusting was so satisfying. He looked at you with wide, wet, pleading optics. His voice was heavy with static as he began to beg.

"Please, pl-please, just- just 5 more seconds, I'm so-"

"You know the rules. Pull out, tip only."

This time, Rodimus did sob as he slowly, tortuously pulled out till only the tip remained inside. He shuttered his optics close, coolant tears now freely falling. You could smell the faint wisp of smoke that was beginning to emanate from his engine, a clear sign that Rodimus had been played with enough.

“You’re such a good boy, Roddy. Aren’t you?”

“Y-yes, yes, I-I am, I just-”

“And I think you deserve to be… rewarded for your behaviour.”

The near puppy dog pleading optics Rodimus gave you could shatter the strongest of wills, not helping the big, fat tears sliding down his cheek plates. It had taken you two hours to get to this point, a new record.

“Go on, then. Go.”

If not giving him a time limit hadn’t clued him in, you wrapping your legs around his hips told him something clear- he was allowed to finally, finally overload. His face broke into an excited smile, his bright blue optics shining brilliantly.

He clung onto you, holding you close as he cried for joy. Each thrust was short and quick, he didn’t want to draw this out any longer. He had one, singular goal in his processor- overload. Each thrust was accompanied with a metallic clang and wet slapping noise that echoed around the room. You were most definitely going to have to buff out some lovely paint transfers.

“F-fuck! Oh fuck, you feel so good!”

Rodimus groaned out, almost deliriously. His exhaust pipes on his arms were beginning to splutter more smoke, loud revving noises coming from his engine. Your calipers clenched tightly on his spike, drawing out a loud, throaty shout.

“Fuck!”

With a final cry, Rodimus slammed his hips against yours, flames bursting from his exhaust pipes. A whimper leaving his lips as warmth bloomed into your gestational tank. Rodimus all but collapsed on top of you, exventing deeply. Tears streaked down his faceplate, his optics looked dazed, far off. In subspace.

“You were such a good boy, Roddy- so splendid, you did so well.”

You softly cooed into his audials, bringing your servo to his face to gently wipe his tears away. After a scene or any extreme interface session really, Rodimus’ aftercare involved a lot of gentle affirmation, telling him he did wonderful. He nodded, a small smile tugging at his lip. His voice was filled with static again, but softer.

“Y-yeah?”

“You were so good.”

Leaning in, you gave him a kiss on his opticbrow. He looked at you with a distant look, his processor would be barely running and it’d be hard for him to think, to vocalise his thoughts. You knew from experience. His optic brow furrowed, his smile dipping into a small frown.

“You- you didn’t-”

Smiling, you cupped his cheek with your servo gently to stop him from finishing. He blinked, staring at you with dazed optics.

“It’s fine. I wanted to get you off. This was all about you.”

You spoke with a soft voice, comforting, easing his worries. Kissing his cheek softly, you pulled away, gasping at the feeling of Rodimus’ spike being pulled out of you and blushing as his transfluid slowly seeped out.

“Let me look after you, Roddy. You deserve it.”

#transformers fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #transformers valveplug fanfic #valveplug #rodimus/reader #rodimusxreader #rodimus x reader #writing

[daddy-issues-99]

Scourge x Reader

Gender neutral reader, suggestive but nothing happens, Sub Dom esc relationship Stockholm syndrome.

350 words

The hideout was cold, empty, silent.  The only thing in the room was you, inside a prison, or more like a cage waiting for your new found master to return. You shouldn't be in this situation. Locked away as some twisted version of entertainment.

You would never admit it but, you loved it. 

~

Scourge found you while searching for the Transwarp Key. You stumbled across him on a camping trip you were taking in remote Peru. You watched him slowly and tried to figure out how to escape unharmed. When you finally turned away to run you slipped and tumbled down the path. 

You looked back to see Scourge walking over to you and before you could get back up, you were in his grasp. “An organic, how pleasant.” 

“Please don't hurt me!” “That's the fun of it. You are no different from the others.” He said tightening his grip. “Please, Ill do anything! I’ll do anything! I’ll worship you, I’ll be your slave! Just please let me live!” 

“So pathetic. Lets see how long you last” 

It had been months since then. Stuck in a cage waiting for your master to return hoping for some form of affection. In the time you had spent there you had developed a ‘relationship’ with the robot. You were no longer his prisoner, you were his pet. It was purely sadistic, and you loved it. 

Heavy footsteps could be heard from down the large hallway as Scourge made his way down to his room. You jumped up and stumbled to the front of the cage waiting to see your Master. 

Scourge turned into the room to be greeted with you pressed up against the bars of the cage. “Eager today aren't we.” He said with a smirk. “Can I be let out please Master?” You said holding onto the bars. 

“So needy. Why should I let you out? Why do you deserve that?” He said looking down at you “I don't deserve anything Master.” He smirked, slowly unlocking the cage. 

“And that's why you deserve everything.” 

#transformers scourge #scourge #transformers rotb #transformers x reader #scourge x reader #scourge transformers x reader #transformers rise of the beasts #I could take him #transformers fanfic #tw monsterfucking #rilf #robots are hot

[puppet-boys-writing]

hii wally!!! 🐈can I request some fluff with baby boy thunderhoof and fem reader (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧. she lives in this cabin in a field and he just so happens to see her everyday (while on his patrol for energon) until he musters enough courage to talk (with a tough ol demeanor) but turns into a hot mess

hope this isn't too complicated 😭

The Cabin In A Field

➵Author: HI!! I hope you enjoy!! I liked writing this, even if my brain kinda fuzzed out towards the end!

➵Character(s): Thunderhoof

➵Type: fluff

➵Relationship: platonic. Thunderhoof got a crush

➵Reader Type: she/her, human

➵Summary: Thunderhoof passes (Y/N) everyday on his patrols, never stopping to talk to her. He finally gets the courage and tries to keep his cool

~✿✿✿~

Everyday Thunderhoof passes by the quaint little cabin, out in the open field, with the human femme at the same time each day. She’s always sitting there on the porch swing outside. The human always waves at him as he passes the cabin, zero fear evident on her face. He never returns the wave, just huffs and continues on his way, deciding the patrol was far more important. He doesn’t want Steeljaw on his aft about this.

Today was seemingly no different. As he nears the cabin he sees her there, swinging absentmindedly on the porch swing. She seemed bored as she was swinging, but upon spotting the giant mech, she visibly brightened and waves to Thunderhoof. However, instead of just continuing on with his patrol as usual, he stops and stares at the human.

The mech grumbles to himself for a moment before deciding he has nothing to lose and heads over to where the human sits. Her eyes widen in surprise for a moment before she waves, with much more excitement this time. Thunderhoof rolls his optics but crouches in front of the human.

“Wow!” the human gasps, staring at Thunderhoof in awe. “You’re much bigger up close!” She stands up from the porch swing, holding her hand out to touch the giant but stops when his optics narrow at her.

“Ayo, show a little respect here, squishy.” Thunderhoof almost feels bad with the way she drops her arm and pouts. He makes a motion towards himself, “I’m Thunderhoof, see? I ain’t somebody y’should be messin’ with, y’hear?”

“Well, Thunderhoof, I’m (Y/N)!” She holds her hand up once more, this time for a handshake. “I’m real excited to finally meet you! It’s not everyday you get to meet a giant robot!”

Thunderhoof considers, before pushing her hand down with a digit. She’s soft, he thinks. But he pushes that thought aside with a huff, “Cybertronian.”

“Pardon?” (Y/N) gives a polite smile, albeit looking a bit confused.

“Cybertronian. ‘S what I am.” He averts his gaze, trying to keep his cool and tough demeanor. “I ain’t a ‘giant robot’, I’m Cybertronian.”

“Oh! Okay. Okay, got it!” She moves forward and gives the giant mech a pat on his knee. “Thank you for informing me. I’d rather not offend you!” Thunderhoof turns a glare at her but it falters at her smile and her soft touch on him. He can practically feel his spark trying to beat its way out of its chamber. How dare a human make him feel this way. 

(Y/N) keeps her hand on his knee, but her head tilts at the obvious battle going on inside the mech’s processor. “Thunderhoof?” she speaks so softly, worried. “Did I say something wrong?”

Thunderhoof grumbles and gives a halfhearted glare to the human. “Y’better take yer hand off me, squishy, before I squish you. It’s what you humans are good for, afterall.” The mech huffs

(Y/N) takes her hand off Thunderhoof, raising both in defense. “Alright, alright! Boundaries, I get it.” She smiles softly at him, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay!”

The large mech stares at her, processor racing, before he stands up and crosses his arms. “Why aren’t’cha scared, human? I could easily squish you under pede.” He growls at her, trying to appear threatening. 

She shrugs, “There’s not much excitement out here. Besides, if you wanted to squish me, I’m sure you would’ve done it already!” She grins up at him, hands on her hips now.

Thunderhoof scoffs, trying to find a comeback, before simply grumbling as he can’t find one. He drops to sitting, causing (Y/N) to wobble from the rumble of him landing on the ground. Once she stabilizes, she has a cheshire grin, “I’m right, huh? You don’t have the heart to squish me!”

He glares at her, his faceplates flushing a light blue. “You better keep yer trap shut before I change my mind.” She shrugs, moving back to sit on the porch swing once more.

She seems more than content to sit in silence with Thunderhoof, using her foot to make the porch swing rock. Thunderhoof watches her as she picks up the book that was sitting next to her to read. His glare softens just a bit, faceplates still flushed.

Perhaps he can sit here for a while longer. Steeljaw can wait.

#Wally writes #requests.txt #Transformers #Transformers fanfic #Transformers x reader #tf x reader #Transformers Thunderhoof #Thunderhoof x reader #RiD Thunderhoof #rid15 Thunderhoof #idk #I am so nervous #but I just gotta remind myself I'll get better as I go!! #slowly I will write longer stories. hopefully

[xxladyballadxx]

Date Night

TF: ROTB Mirage X (human) reader

☁️ ✨Fluff✨☁️

A very special day has arrived where you go on a lovely date with your awesome goofy alien robot boyfriend Mirage. Planning to watch the gleaming stars of wonders up in the dark sky is going to be such a wonderful time for you and . Once you threw on your (f/c) mini dress and a bit of makeup, you slipped your flats on and stepped outside your home where Mirage awaits you. His blue energetic eyes widened when he held his head down to look at you. “Wow, (Y/n), you look…” Mirage motioned his eyes upwards and downwards, gazing upon you admiringly, “You look beautiful.” 

Your cheeks swirled into a warm heated red colour, “Thank you, Mirage.” 

Mirage smiled as he transformed into a Porsche 911 car, he flipped open the car door wide for you, “Shall we go, my lady?” 

“Let’s go.” you entered inside the car form of Mirage, seating at the front where the wheel is. Mirage closed the front door afterwards and drove off down the road while you settled down to relax, letting your alien robot do the driving as always. 

The two of you finally arrived at the destination. An edge of the cliff, a great spot to watch the stars. As soon as you exited the car, Mirage transformed back to his robotic form. “Amazing view..” you set your (e/c) eyes on the  stratosphere that is filled with stars sparkling out of it. 

Mirage sat onto the rocky ground, carefully not to sit too close towards the edge of the cliff otherwise he would end up falling down. You climbed on top of him to sit yourself down onto his lap. 

“Oh how I love to watch stars at night..” You spoke in a soft manner, your eyes being shone on by the stars of heavens. It begins to get cold as the beautiful night goes on, Mirage cuddles you with his gigantic robotic hands around you, being extra careful not to crush you to death. 

“A beautiful night, isn’t it?” Mirage set his glowing blue eyes on the dark sky, watching the stars shooting in different directions. Those stars somehow reminded him of his home planet Cybertron. He wishes to take you one day but would be too risky and Optimus would never allow it. 

“Yeah it is, our own heaven of dreams.” your voice dropped in a soft, soothing manner. You leaned your head back to Mirage’s chest while holding his big hand with your small adorable hand. 

 “A happy place where we can just be ourselves.” Mirage added, shining a smile of joy across his face. You carefully climbed up to his charming face to peck a kiss to his silver lips. “I love you so much, Mirage.” you warmed his machine heart with your loving words. You couldn’t tell if he was blushing or not. Robots can hardly blush since they’re alien robots from outer space. “I love you too, my little spark.” Mirage replied, stroking your hair softly with his robotic finger. 

You cuddled his face with your arms planted on it, feeling the heat of warmth floating over you and your whole body is no longer feeling shivery. You swept back down to sit on his lap once again after cuddling his adorable face for a bit. 

A goofy robotic alien and a sweet human girl spend the rest of the evening watching the stars together. Talking, flirting, complimenting each other and making out a drawing from the gorgeous midnight sky, connecting each little sparkle to see what they came up with. 

You wish this beautiful moment with Mirage would never end…

(A/n) - Damn, I never knew I would write this and I am shockingly in love with an alien robot. Mirage is such a goofball and I love that guy sm! :'') I've watched the new Tranformers movie on Friday with a good friend of mine and it turned out to be quite good. Some people may disagree with me on this but it is surprisingly much better then the previous Transformers movies. Just saying. Anyway, this may look shite but I hope you all like it.

UNTIL NEXT TIME ^_^

#transformers rise of the beasts #tf rotb #mirage #tf rotb x reader #x reader #transformers x reader #fluff #transformers fanfic #transformers fanfiction #rise of the beasts #rotb x reader #rotb mirage x reader #tf rotb mirage x reader

[sparrowsworkshop]

"Screened" by OneWingedSparrow

Main Tags: TFP, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, During Canon, Major Character Death (referenced), Megatron & Soundwave Summary: A tribute to Frank Welker for providing the iconic voices of Megatron and Soundwave—among many other characters across animation—over the years. Told from the perspectives of both TFP Megatron and TFP Soundwave, during and after the events of the episode "Crossfire." Part of the "Peace Through Tyranny Zine" hosted by @allsparkzines ! Please check out everyone's artwork and stories! They're amazing! Read on AO3; paired artwork here Reblogs are appreciated! ~ The bridge of the Nemesis revved with unchecked tension, like a jet engine that grumbled and screamed and refused to leave the ground despite the time for liftoff.

“The reason for our inability to locate Breakdown’s signal is all too clear...but how is it that you were unable to recover his remains?” Lord Megatron snapped.

Dreadwing avoided his gaze, fixating his attention on the floor instead.

An incoming message set the computer trilling with urgent beeps. Soundwave turned to open the notification.

“What is it?” Lord Megatron barked, just as the call connected.

A saccharine voice sent a teasing greeting echoing around the room. “Heard from Breakdown lately?”

Laserbeak twitched against Soundwave’s spark chamber. Silently, Soundwave looked to his lord.

“Trace the communication,” Megatron snarled. With practiced grace, Soundwave’s fingers flew over the keys. The onscreen cursor ricocheted around a virtual globe as frequencies were examined and swiftly eliminated, one after another.

“Megatron, truly,” Airachnid said through the speakers, as merrily as if she offered advice to an old friend, “you sent simple henchmen to terminate a high-ranking officer. I thought you reserved that honor for yourself.”

Soundwave’s fingers hovered in place.

Megatron stomped towards the dashboard, words aflame with vitriol. “Is that a challenge?”

“An invitation,” Airachnid corrected, mildly. “And, since Soundwave is, no doubt, tracing this signal, you know where to find me.”

Right then, the monitor flashed with the coordinates.

Megatron stared at the screen. Soundwave watched a thousand emotions smolder in his optics before he spoke with an air of finality.

“I’ll be back.”

“Allow me to accompany you,” Dreadwing proposed. “You already had your chance,” Megatron snapped. He stormed from the bridge.

Dreadwing hung his head, thoroughly chastised. Soundwave almost pitied the failure.

~

Cracks of lightning split the sky around Megatron as he flew—verily, the fury inside him come to life. As he glided into the cavern where Airachnid surely lurked, Megatron growled to himself. If you desire proper execution of a task, by the Antispark, you need do it yourself!

“I place too much faith in those who follow me,” he muttered. “The war has despoiled my troops of competence. I imagined my expectations lowered enough, and yet…!”

The mouth of the cave swallowed him. Megatron vanished into darkness.

~

Soundwave knew Lord Megatron was a fierce combatant, fully capable of handling his own. However, he also knew Airachnid. Airachnid was not your typical opponent. Even among Decepticons, she was diabolically cunning, darkly creative, and downright ruthless. Moreover, as an uncommon eight-legger, she wielded a fighting style that sharply disadvantaged Megatron’s. Whereas Megatron exuded might and force, Airachnid thrived in speed and guile. She was a trickster, an ambusher, and above all, a predator.

If Airachnid had the gall to consume Breakdown’s husk, Soundwave did not doubt her readiness to dismantle his lord as well. Airachnid was surely weaving trickery between her needling fingers, a net with which to snag Megatron in his anger. No matter his proven battle prowess, Lord Megatron would not be returning unscathed.

Against his spark, Laserbeak hummed in agreement.

Soundwave commanded the computer to sleep and drifted from his post.

~

When the Insecticon tackled him, Megatron had been thrown backwards.

Airachnid’s secret champion had slammed his neck at an awkward angle, setting it aching. Now, the Insecticon whinnied inches away from his face, mandibles waggling. Breathing heavily, Megatron seized all his strength, and thrust the creature far enough away to fire his fusion cannon.

Before he could shoot again, a web blast from Airachnid’s perch rendered his cannon useless. Utilizing the diversion, the Insecticon transformed into beetle mode, zipped forward, and tossed him into the air. A stab near the spark chamber left Megatron gasping. He hit the ground, showered by his own energon.

Instinct ignited as pain kicked in, accompanied by sheer adrenaline. When the Insecticon charged for another blow, Megatron timed its attack, and smacked the beast away with one fell swoop of his arm.

Airachnid hissed in displeasure. He cast a smirk towards her distant platform.

“You and your beast would do well to remember,” Megatron yelled, “I honed my skills in the Pits of Kaon!”

Furious as he was at Airachnid’s scheme, part of him thrilled in the unexpected matchup. Many of his memories of the Pits had been blocked out; but there was still much that he recalled. ~

Rather than stride the halls, Soundwave opened a ground bridge and teleported himself directly into his private quarters, while Laserbeak sequestered himself in the rafters outside to alert him to approaching vehicons.

Soundwave’s tentacles easily found the package, stacked in the corner among dozens of decoys. To the unsuspecting optic, the package appeared to be an ordinary Energon Cube. Courtesy of his visor, however, Soundwave could clearly identify the invisible symbols stamped all over the container, backlit by the artificial glow. A simple deception, engineered by Shockwave, meant for his sight alone.

He tapped the symbols in their proper order, unlocking the seal. The item inside snapped neatly into Laserbeak’s rest. The Minicon would fit right over it; no one would notice the extra mass on his frame.

At that moment, Laserbeak trilled on a frequency only Soundwave could hear. He tilted his head at the news.

So the failure does have some brass in his bearings.

~

“Rescue” was not a word Megatron regarded fondly; but, he decided he could live with an assisted tactical retreat.

“You disobeyed my orders in following me here,” Megatron growled.

He waited just long enough for worry to overtake Dreadwing; then, Megatron transformed his tone, almost sounding…jovial.

“You will make a fine first lieutenant,” he said through a wide, concealed grin.

~

Lord Megatron returned limping.

The average Decepticon would never have detected this; yet, Soundwave had spent enough time with him to identify when something was off. A miniscule change in his gait was all the proof Soundwave needed.

Megatron straightened his back as a group of Eradicons passed by, saluting him. As soon as they left, he grumbled and pulled a strand of web from his fusion cannon.

Knock Out welcomed Lord Megatron into the med bay. A few wayward drops of energon trailed behind him, at Soundwave’s feet.

A single tentacle unfurled, claws sweeping over the floor to wipe the energon away—out of sight.

At Knock Out’s beckoning, Lord Megatron sank onto the examination berth. Soundwave noticed how his knees quavered under him, but chose not to say anything.

~

Knock Out’s examination was prompt, as Megatron demanded. No Decepticon should ever know all his wounds or weaknesses...even his medic.

Once Knock Out was dismissed, Megatron narrowed his optics at Soundwave. “Did you send Dreadwing after me?”

“It was his own stupid idea!” Knock Out’s voice protested from Soundwave’s speakers. A favorite recording, from yet another occasion of Starscream’s troublemaking.

Megatron laughed, hoarsely. “So there is hope for Decepticon competency, yet.”

Yes, Soundwave thought, at last we have found someone faithful to your cause.

Towards his lord, he nodded, signaling Laserbeak to deploy.

Into Megatron’s open palm, a tentacle placed the item that Soundwave had guarded since their time in the Pits.

His lord’s knee brace. ~

#thanks for reading! #sparrow fics #screened #salt and light #megatron #soundwave #tfp megatron #tfp soundwave #during canon #canon compliant #transformers prime #tfp #transformers fanfic #maccadam

[kingrayii]

-: As good as this one :-

Keep reading for a small fic

You can also find the fic from AO3!

Please check it out and leave kudos and feedback! As good as this one is 1st part of a TFE fanfic series I have, called -: family :-

“Hey, Optimus! Happy Father's day!” Bumblebee’s voice rang to Megatron’s audio receptors. Optimus had received a video over to his communicator, and it was from Bumblebee. 

“Happy Father’s day!” Arcee greeted on the video as well, she made a brief appearance behind Bee. 

“I’m sorry for a late greeting, I’ve been stuck at Malto’s the whole day. The Maltobots needed my help to make the day perfect, so I stayed to help. But I will never forget to remember you on this day! See you tomorrow, Prime sir!”

Before the video reached to end, the voices of the Terrans and their human family shouted and greeted Optimus happy father’s day. Bee knelt down to Mo, who was apparently signing him to kneel down for her. Mo appeared on the video.

“Mom said we can say that, even if you’re not our dad, but you are still a dad! At least to Bee!” Mo said with a wide smile.

“Bye, Mr Optimus!” with that, the video ended.

Optimus chuckled to himself. He replied to Bumblebee’s video with a brief text message, thanking him, Arcee and the whole Malto family. Megatron walked over to Optimus’ right side; “Cutting it quite close this year. The day is almost over.” 

Optimus sent his reply and facing Megatron he said: “It doesn’t matter. These things are something you know, even if no one says anything.” 

“Actually, I, too.. received a greeting today”, Megatron mumbled, trying to appear cool about it, but Prime saw the glimmer in his optics. 

“Oh?” Optimus asked, tell me more, and Megatron answered; “Young Twitch called me earlier today. She… told me, happy father’s day, even if I am far from being one to her.”

“You may not be a father to her the same way Alex Malto is, or even as far-fetched as Wheeljack. But those bonds also prove to us that being family doesn’t mean biological connection”, Optimus explained, and Megatron hummed thoughtfully. 

“Yes, I understand that. I guess… I never expected to mean this way to anyone”, Megatron confessed. 

Optimus smiled for him. Megatron had come a long way from when he was still a Decepticon leader; back in those days, he would’ve never thought the way he did now, never admitted those kinds of feelings out loud. Optimus felt joy in his spark. 

Megatron and Optimus both turned to look at the beautiful scenery that opened in front of them. Witwicky was a beautiful place, and the sun setting painted the world purple and pink. Both of them took a deep breath and let their optics rest on that beautiful view. 

“I also consider you family, Megatron, and I-”

“Don’t say it, Prime, or you might grow on me.” 

Prime chuckled; “I already have, old friend. I just wish to remind you of how much I cherish you, and what we have.” 

Megatron averted Prime’s gaze for a moment before he looked at him from the corner of his eyes. Megatron was struggling with words, he still wasn’t used to being treated like Optimus spoke and thought of him. 

“I… can’t say it back yet”, Megatron admitted, defeated, and looked down at his feet. Optimus smiled dearly to him; “I know. It is okay.” 

“But-” Megatron added, lifting a hand on Prime’s shoulder.

“I… you know.”

“I know”, Optimus hummed. 

Megatron didn’t need to say it back. Actions spoke volumes, and Megatron was shouting to Optimus the same words he just said to him. Optimus and Megatron shared eye contact, and both of them smiled. There was still much healing to do, and not only for Megatron. Optimus would wait for him for all of eternity, and even longer.

“Megatron? I often find myself thinking of how wrong we could’ve gone, had we not stopped the war.”

“Why waste time on something like that?”

“I can’t say. Maybe it is the fact of how good things are, and how bad they could be. Maybe the idea that in the countless other universes, things are far, far worse. Do you think that, maybe, there are more universes like ours? Where we do not have to fight? Where we are brothers and sisters, not divided by factions or anything else?” 

“Like you said, Prime… There are countless universes. Some ought to be as good as this one.” 

Optimus smiled and sighed contently. He narrowed his optics and hummed; “Yes. Some ought to be.” 

#tfe #transformers earthspark #megaop #tfe megatron #tfe optimus prime #tfe twitch #maltobots #tfe terrans #fanfic #transformers fanfic #tfe fanfic #tfe megop #megop

[nepetacataria-art]

Hi hi! I posted my first Transformers fic! I had this idea on my mind for a while and finally got the time to write it down! i hope you all enjoy it!

#transformers bw #transforners #beast wars #transformers beast wars #dinobot #beast wars dinobot #rattrap #beast wars rattrap #dinotrap #rattrap x dinobot #dinotrap fanfic #transformers fanfic #beast wars fanfic #I love them so so much

[archie-sunshine]

So, What Now?(Rehabili/Cohabi-Tation)

Chapter 3: In Which the Robots are Fucking Ballin’

FIC TAGS: Eventual Whirl/Cyclonus/Tailgate, Cyclonus/Tailgate, polyamory, slowburn romance, mutual pining, slice of life, fluff, comedy, eventual smut(planned for later chapters), sappy mushy lovey stuff, polycue, May eventually have illustrations

The Lost Light has a brand new universe to explore! But everyone's still tired from the old one! In the interim between wacky hijinks, a solution is offered to those bored to death by peacetime- Why form a club about it or renovate your hab suite of course!

Whirl doesn't know how he feels about all the pep. And even worse, he doesn't know how to feel about Cyclonus and Tailgate wanting him to join in on their clean slate. 

Chapter 1 Here! Chapter 2 Here!

_________________________

Author's Notes: I think that all robots should get to play basketball as a treat. I also think they should be objectively bad at basketball to keep them humble.

CHAPTER TAGS: Humour, fluff, robots playing sports, robots being bad at sports, background Rewind/Chromedome(as god intended), banter, rivalries flaring up but in a fun way.

“And that, in its simplest form, is how you play ‘Baskets Ball’!” 

Whirl squinted at Rodimus, peeking over Nautica’s shoulder where the would-be sports team stood to get a better look at him. He was holding a kind of flimsy looking rubber ball, occasionally bouncing it against the newly fitted gymnasium floor with a satisfying ‘Phoonk!’. 

“Any questions?” Rodimus posed to the group, glancing around the crowd. 

Whirl raised a claw. “Considering that some bots here can turn into aircrafts, what’s the rules about alt modes?” 

Rodimus set his intake in an unamused line for a second, before venting and smiling big. “No transforming, no alt modes, just some friendly sport between bots!” He said, bouncing- or he thought he called it dribbling- the ball again. “Let’s pick teams shall we? Five to a team!” 

Rodimus stepped back to let the group disperse and talk amongst themselves. Immediately, Whirl shuffled up beside Cyclonus, who in turn was shuffled beside Tailgate. Whirl waved a bit at Chromedome, who nodded in acknowledgement. Whirl looked around for a second, trying to spot Rewind.

Chromedome chuckled and pointed at a set of bleachers behind him. “Not his bag. He’s just here to record, he’s doing it for all the clubs.” 

Rewind waved at him from his spot in the wings, sitting comfortably next to Swerve- the team’s referee, a wise choice considering he was the only one who had ever actually watched a game of ‘baskets ball’. 

Whirl waved back. “He’s gonna have a lot to record then, there’s gonna be loads of these.” 

Whirl turned back around as Chromedome chuckled in agreement, facing the other couple as they welcomed one of those lousy ex-cons onto the team. Lousy as in bad at being a ‘con, of course. Fuelpump? Was his name fuelpump?

“Welcome to the team Fulcrum.” Cyclonus said in that weirdly formal kind of way, pinning Fulcrum (OH! Yeah Fulcrum) with that intense stare. 

Fulcrum cycled his optics, glancing around and offering a kind of weak smile. “Yeah man- thanks-” 

Cyclonus then turned to Whirl, who fell in beside him quietly. He nodded curtly at him, turning his red optics on the competing team with a firm edge to his brow. 

“Sizing up the competition, Teeeeeammmate~?” Whirl sing-songed, leaning his helm down until he was nearly touching cheeks with him. 

“Mm.” Cyclonus grunted. 

Whirl flicked his gaze over to the other five bots. Nautica, Skids, Velocity, First Aid, and Blaster. He glanced back at Cyclonus, who was now rubbing a contemplative digit against his chin. Whirl copied him with a claw and a high pitched scratching noise against his own helm. 

“The odds are even here… We should consider their collective and individual strengths before we proceed.” He mused. Whirl nodded slowly, considering the easiest route to swinging First Aid by the pede joint directly into Blaster’s knees. 

“Aren’t you taking it a bit seriously?” Chromedome pointed out. 

Tailgate hopped from pede to pede, optics big. “We’re going to mop the floor with them, they’ll never play baskets ball again.” He muttered to himself. 

“Alright big guy, take a vent-” Chromedome started, cut off by the sudden sound of a whistle being blown. The groups turned to face the source of the sound, a very amused Rodimus with a silver whistle between his dentas. 

“Arright teamsh!” He called, before spitting out the whistle. “To your positions, who wants to do the tip off?” Wordlessly, Cyclonus walked to the middle of the court, facing down against Nautica as they both took an athletic stance. Whirl glanced at Tailgate, expecting some swooning, only to find the little bot vibrating in anticipation completely devoid of any affection. Had there been an ounce of love on the court, it had been traded out in favour of pure, athletic focus. Snickering, he glanced back at cyclonus, appreciating the couple’s mirrored intensity and taking up a stance along with them. Rodimus held the ball up high with one servo, replacing the whistle between his teeth. Whirl watched him countdown his digits on his free hand with straining anticipation.

Fweeeeeeet~!!

In a flash of indigo and magenta, Nautica snapped up the ball out of the air, ducking under Cyclonus’s arm and rushing for the opposing team’s net. She grinned broadly, ducking another swipe from Cyclonus’s servo attempting another grasp for the ball. 

From the bleachers, Swerve shouted, “DRIBBLE! Ya can’t just carry the ball!!!” Nautica’s helm twisted briefly to look at him.

“Oh-! Sorry-” she started, clumsily spiking the ball against the ground, and directly into Tailgate’s chassis.

“I GOT IT!” He shrieked, awkwardly beginning to dribble the ball forwards across the court. Whirl took up his flank, looming a bit over him and glancing over his own shoulders. 

It was in the instant that he had taken to peek at what Cyclonus was doing that he crashed directly into Skids’ chest, the two of them stumbling backwards as Tailgate made a break for it between the taller mech’s legs. 

“Oi- sneaky fragger-!!” Skids shouted stiltedly, just as Whirl jogged after the minibot. 

He was making considerable progress considering his size and inefficient dribbling. The ball would bounce a couple times away from Tailgate as he stumbled forwards to nab it back in his servos. He caught it back, letting out an almost involuntary cackle as he mirrored the stance Rodimus had taken and popped up on his pedes for a shot at the net.

The ball thunked against Velocity’s chassis, quickly cradled in her servos as she fumbled to begin dribbling. 

Whirl spun around to follow after her, catching up and passing her but giving a wide berth as Chromedome flanked her other side. 

“Er- Over to you!” She chirped out, bouncing the ball down to First Aid, who had slinked his way over to their half of the court. Just as the ball hit the ground, Whirl jerked a servo out, widening his pincers to welcome the ball home-

*BANG!*

The sound of squeaking rubber and grinding metal pedes on the concrete floor of the gymnasium game to a sudden halt. Whirl stared long and hard at the burst rubber now hanging from his claws. He picked it slowly off one of his digits. 

Tailgate jogged up to him, peering up at the spent ball in his hands. “Uhm, Rodimus?” He called, turning to glance around for their ‘coach’. 

Rodimus glanced up from his conversation with Rewind, finally noting the presence of the popped ball. “Oh- Sorry Whirl-” 

“Ball’s kinda flimsy.” Whirl said, jokingly attempting to dribble it, letting it hit the floor with a pathetic smack. “Want me to sit this one out, coach?” 

“Maybe it would be for the-” Rodimus started.

Cyclonus cleared his vocalizer. “Perhaps Whirl would be best suited to a defensive position.” he boomed, raising his voice just under a shout with a formality that was kind of weird. 

Whirl squinted a little bit at Cyclonus. “Aw- and miss all the fun on the front lines, you wound me, ‘clonus, you wound me bad.” He gave cyclonus one big puppydog optic. 

“We could fit some rubber tips over your claws, if you want.” Chromedome offered, reaching a servo towards his talons. Whirl snatched his servos back to his chassis, squinting at the broader bot for a second before rolling his optic. 

“Yeesh- fine I’ll play defense or whatever.” He grumbled. 

“Alright! Let’s start over, then.” Rodimus barked, wandering over to a metal cage full of auxiliary baskets balls. Whirl fell back towards the underside of the hanging net. After a few kliks of reset, Cyclonus returned by his side as Fulcrum reached the center of the court for the tip off. 

“Thanks for gettin me stuck with you.” Whirl whispered at Cyclonus, raising his servos and dropping into a slightly lower stance. “I thought you’d be chasing TG around the court, not me.” 

“I know when to pick my battles.” Cyclonus said dryly, mirroring his stance. Whirl could almost see his servo instinctively twitch towards a sword at his back, before coming to rest held around his abdomen. 

Whirl rolled his optic. “I know when to pick my battles!” He mocked under his vent, wagging his helm back and forth a little before focusing up.

Fweeeeee-!

The whistle blew, cut off this time as Fulcrum lunged for the ball, half knocking over First Aid with a hipcheck. 

“Hey-!” The medic started, cut off by Fulcrum’s even louder exclamation of “ACCIDENT!” The scavenger zig zagged down the court, skidding to a stop in his tracks facing down against Blaster, arms outstretched to guard either side of him. 

Whirl’s optic twitched a bit, glancing at Cyclonus for a prompt. Cyclonus didn’t budge. Whirl swallowed a frustrated groan and hopped from foot to foot in anticipation. 

“I’m open!” Chromedome shouted over the clanking metal din. Fulcrum tossed the ball over Blaster’s shoulder, landing it in the mnemosurgeon’s waiting servos. 

Whirl fidgetted, clicking his talons together as Skids shuffled backwards towards their side of the court in anticipation of a lob his way. Defense was BORING. Whirl’s pedes clacked against the floor impatiently, his frame practically vibrating with pent up energy. 

There was a loud, rattling ‘DONK’ as the ball bounced off the corner of the backboard, falling into Nautica’s servos. She wasted no time in dribbling her way over towards their half of the court, bounce-passing the ball over to Skids, who quickly flipped around with the ball in hand, prepared to make his shot. 

Whirl’s optic shrunk to a point, all harnessed energy releasing in one sharp movement. “GYAHH!” Whirl cried, slamming his elbow joint up between skids servos and sending the ball flying straight up. It pinged off the ceiling, slamming down directly into the floor in front of Tailgate. The minibot swung his arms out immediately, almost by instinct grasping hold of the ball as it drove up into his chassis. 

“IGOTIT!!” He shouted, hugging the ball to his chassis as he absorbed the excess kinetic energy skidding him backwards towards the opposing teams net. 

The little bot clumsily dribbled closer to the net, crouching down tight. There was a flash of glowing energy from his visor, before Tailgate leapt upwards with a force so great it left cracks in the gymnasium floor. Two hearty white servos dunked the baskets ball directly through the hoop. 

Tailgate whooped and hollered, swinging on the rim of the net as the sparsely gathered crowd joined tailgate and his team in cheering. 

Fweee- 

Again, the whistle was cut off, this time by Rewind smacking at Rodimus’s arms with a free servo- the other occupied in trying to cover his audials. 

“NIIIICE PLAY!” Rodimus called, giving a big stupid thumbs up and a polite round of applause. “Take a second and we’ll contin-”

“I’d like to come down now!” Tailgate interrupted. The bot still hung from the hoop, kicking his pedes lightly as he swung gently back and forth. 

Cyclonus jogged across the court, hopping up and gathering his conjunx in his arms to carry him back. 

Whirl side opticed them, catching their hushed little exchange.

“You would have been fine just letting go.” 

“And miss out on being carried?” 

That remark made cyclonus crack a quiet smile, his chassis rumbling with a chuckle as the two of them bumped their fore-helms together. 

Whirl rolled his optic, turning away from the two of them. Sickening, truly, they just let them get away with that in public? He felt a pang of something in his tanks, watching them canoodle like that. It was probably annoyance, definitely not anything deeper… or uglier than that. 

Cyclonus set Tailgate down with a little squeeze on his shoulder pad. He then shifted back to his position defending the net beside Whirl, nodding at him quietly. 

“... Good play.” Cyclonus murmured, clipped like he had tried to hold it in as he sank back into a defensive stance.

“Don’t hurt yourself biting back that compliment.” Whirl scoffed back. 

“Bet there could have been a better one.” Cyclonus added, turning a blazing optic to Whirl. 

Whirl felt a little flare in his spark, that familiar urge to compete blooming in his tanks in that way only Cyclonus’s stupid challenging could draw out of him. 

“I’d like to see you try and top it.” Whirl hissed, craning his neck to get his optic right in Cyclonus’s personal space again. 

FWWEEEEE-*smack* “Ow-! fine! God-!”

***

It had been a while since something had gotten Whirl to break a coolant. Baskets ball certainly did it though. 

“Wheeeeeew, that was a workout, huh?” Tailgate huffed, vents going wild as he exited the gymnasium. He bounded cheerily down the hall, flanked by Cyclonus and whirl, both of whom were producing coolant considerably more than their Outlier companion. 

“It was fun, but I dunno if I’m gonna be so cool playing babysitter for the net…” Whirl grumbled a bit, enviously eyeing Tailgate. He’d gotten to bound around the court the whole game while Whirl had been practically exploding with potential energy. Not fair at all.

“You made a fine defense.” Cyclonus observed. Whirl met his optics. Cyclonus’s dermas imperceptibly quirked up at the corner. “Just a fine one though.” 

Whirl’s engine flared, his propellers taking a few indignant cycles as he pinned the mech with his optic. “I made the best defense, nobody’s ever defended like me even a little bit, nobody’s ever DREAMED-”

“Ahhh, hab at last!” Tailgate sighed, trotting up to the familiar purple door and tapping at the access pad. The door slid open and Cyclonus sauntered inside past Tailgate. 

Whirl went to follow him but paused for a moment. 

Tailgate walked into the suite, no goodbye, no ‘see you later’. Whirl cautiously plodded forwards. 

“You coming?” Tailgate asked, as if it was obvious. 

Whirl cycled his vocalizer a bit, searching for something to say. 

“This doesn’t look like my hab suite.” He retorted sarcastically. 

“Yeah, but it’s late anyway, come on, we can talk shop about our baskets ball game over some engex.” Tailgate said, all matter of fact like it was something they’d all agreed on. 

Whirl glanced around, catching a peek of the window on the back wall of their new communal space. It was hard to tell, but he supposed it was a little late. 

“... alright, but just for a little while, huh?” Whirl begrudgingly agreed, stepping in through the open door. It closed with a soft hiss behind him.

#maccadam #transformers #my fic #tailgate mtmte #whirl mtmte #cyclonus mtmte #whirl #cyclonus #tailgate #whirlgate #cygate #cywhirl #cywhirlgate #lost light #mtmte #transformers fanfic #transformers fanfiction #chromedome #fluff #slice of life

[sinspark4]

Here is a really (I mean really, talk about rushed lol) quick sketch of Blurr wearing edible glitter from my Fanfic "How to Tame Your Seeker". Fic can be found on AO3 under the same title. :) As you can tell, anatomy was not at all referenced. We just went for it with eyes half open folks.

#transformers fanfic #transformers art #maccadam #transformers fandom #ao3 #starblurr #transformers fanfiction #transformers fanart #transformers g1 #blurr #maccadams #starscream #Anatomy what anatomy

[shroombell]

its really funny that my friend posted their first ao3 fanfic like yesterday cos GUESS WHO ELSE BECAME AN AO3 AUTHOR AT LITERALLY THE EXACT SAME TIME AJKSHFJDFJSDF

Fic for my Binary Stars AU starring Sunstreaker and Sideswipe exploring an apocalyptic Cybertron :3

#transformers #transformers idw #transformers fanfiction #transformers fanfic #sideswipe #sunstreaker #shroombell binary stars au #shroombell writing #transformers au #maccadam

[lets-try-some-writing]

@turbofox-zines

Here's a preview of my contribution to the rescue bots zine! There are a ton of super talented artists and writers involved in this project and I'm super excited to be a part of this whole thing :)

#rescuebotszine #rescuebotsacademyzine #transformers #maccadam #transformers zine #transformers fanfic #fanfic snippet

[veryconnoisseurcherryblossom]

Punishment

Summary: Starscream had caught you having a look at his aft, and as Second in Command, decided to punish you. But is it really a punishment when you're getting off to it?

Pairing: Starscream/Reader

Fandom: Transformers Prime

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Dubious Consent, Lack of Aftercare, also it's long- 4300 words long

Tags: Dubious Consent, heel kink, cum eating, cock stepping, under negotiated kink, oral sex, domination, voice kink, degradation, humiliation, kink realisation, subspace

Ao3 link here! Leave a comment if you enjoyed!

The Decepticon’s Second in Command was, in all honesty, a massive aft hole.

Oh, sure- Starscream was the second highest ranking Decepticon. He was really good at his job, when he wasn’t scheming against Megatron or literally anyone else for that matter… Mostly Megatron.

But yeah, no- he was an aft.

He also had a nice aft, one that you admired when you could get away with it. You rationalised it, it really wasn't creepy of you, you were just… looking out for him, making sure he didn't trip on his heels. That you knew for a fact he had custom designed, because there's just no way-

Ahem. Getting a bit side tracked.

Look, the point is- you weren't a pervert. You weren't a peeping tom. A voyeur. You were just- just having a teeny, tiny look. Just a nanoklik of a look.

So when Starscream caught you having a look… Well. You thought you were a dead mech walking. Yes, he was the often treacherous Second in Command…. But that still meant that he was the SiC of the Decepticons. He could do damn near anything to you in retaliation.

And you knew that there wasn't much of anything you could do against this fact.

---

“Is that the best you can do? How disappointing.”

Starscream's voice was its usual slimy, smug smoothness. Usually, you would be annoyed, maybe even disgusted at how he spoke to you. But with the way your valve pulsed and your spike throbbed behind your panel and how Starscream had you on your knees, grinding his wet, hot valve on your face… It sent a shiver down your spinal strut, settling on your valve. Painfully- the panel kept forcefully shut by the device Starscream all but slammed on you just before shoving you into his own personal habsuite.

“Little pervert, sneaking looks at your superior. The very least you could do is use your glossa properly!”

You whined in response, looking up at Starscream with hazy optics. Your glossa felt fat and slow against his valve, barely doing what you wanted. Primus, you wanted to shove your glossa into his valve, suck on his bright, blinking anterior node- make Starscream cry out in pleasure.

You wanted the stassis cuffs on your wrists to frag off, to let you grope and rub Starscream's aft. To bring him impossibly closer to you, to bury your face further into his valve. To have both his legs wrapped around your helm, all but you keeping you there, forcing you to pleasure him.

The one leg that he had put over your shoulder had dug into your lower spinal strut, the pointed heel strut causing you to whimper pitifully against his valve.

“Ooh, I do like that sound. Mm, yes, just like that- Oh~”

You latched onto his anterior node with your derma and sucked on it hard, causing Starscream to throw his helm back and moan.

“You're a quick learner…”

Starscream murmured, looking back down at you. HIs optics were warm, glowing in the barely lit room. Were it not for the fact that you were buried in his valve, you would feel uneasy with how his optics glowed in the darkness, seemingly looking through your spark. The way he smirked down at you caused your spike to throb even more painfully, pulling another whine from your vocalizer.

Starscream raised a brow at you before his smirk turned predatory.

“Make me overload and I'll reward you.”

He dug his heel into your back, urging you on. And you happily complied- ravenously, you licked his sopping valve, your glossa finally feeling like it was lithe and willing to listen to your commands. Your reward was immediate, Starscream's moans were higher in pitch and more frequent, his servo now gripping your helm with force.

You swirled your glossa over his anterior node before sucking harshly on it, making Starscream cry out keenly.

“Fr-frag…! Slag, you-”

Starscream dug his claws into your helm, leaving scratches in your paint. You left his anterior node alone to return to his valve, licking and slurping away at the transfluid dripping from him. Pushing your glossa in, you played with his fluttering calipers, pushing against them.

His moans were becoming loudly, more frantic. His hip struts bucked against your face, grinding against your mouth. You could hear his fans on full blast, desperately trying to keep him from overheating. All signs were pointing to a loud and glorious overload, all thanks to you. 

“Yes- yes, l-like that, oh slag-”

Starscream's voice was hoarse, breathless as he gripped your helm harder and pushed you deeper into him. His fluids dripped down your chin and down your chassis, leaving a mess in its wake. You ignored it all and pushed your glossa into his wet heat once more, drawing out more keening noises from him.

“Slag- SLAG-!”

His overload was sudden and caught you off guard. Fluorescent pink transfluid, tasting of oil and antifreeze, rushed into your mouth and you happily and greedily swallowed, moaning. The taste left you dizzy.

Starscream panted and shakily pushed you away from his sodden valve, a trail of transfluid following you. You stared up at Starscream with half-lidded optics, glossa hanging out of your mouth lazily. Starscream smirked down at you, but it wasn't his usual one. This one didn't quite seem so cocky, predatory.

Then he let go of you, his leg that was pressed against your spinal strut now pushing you down on the ground. He looked down at your modesty panel and scoffed.

“What a mess you've made of yourself. Leaking through your panel seams, dirtying my habsuite floor.”

“I'm- I'm sorry…”

Looking down, you blushed. Seeping through your panels like a shy bot about to lose their seal was embarrassing- having not felt the slickness between your tibulem dripping onto the floor caused you to nearly choke on ex-vents. Without warning, the stassis cuffs had powered off, falling to the ground with a soft clank.

“Clean it up.”

Your helm snapped up Starscream’s sudden demand and you met his gaze. Ah, the way he looked at you, like an insignificant bug, like something he could step on and not think about you ever again… it made your valve throb.

“I-I, I don't have a cleaning cloth-”

“Are you dense? Use your glossa.”

The snarl he had on his face, the way he spoke to you with disdain- this really shouldn't be getting you off. You shouldn't be getting off to this. You were a proud Decepticon warrior, you met your foes head on and never backed down. You- you weren't the kind of bot to get off by having someone stomp all over you and order you around-

“Did you hear me? Lick. It. Up.”

And yet, you practically jumped to obey his command. You shuffled- moving onto your servos and knees and pushing the stasis cuffs away, you looked down at the pink puddle of transfluid. Your transfluid. Without hesitation, you leaned down and using the tip of your glossa, began to lick.

“Hoh… Even willing to lick your own transfluid? My my, what else can I make you do? Make you endure?”

You suppress a whimper as you continue licking, still with only the tip of your glossa. Starscream clicked his glossa and made a sound of disapproval. Suddenly, you felt a pressure on the back of your helm- Starscream’s heel thrust.

“When I say lick it up, I mean it.”

Starscream pressed down, forcing your helm closer to the ground. Grunting, you obeyed and gave a longer, larger lick. The transfluid was cold but still tasted sweet with a slight tang. Whimpering, you continued to lick the puddle while above you, you could hear the grey mech chuckle darkly.

“Make sure there's not a single drop left- I don't like mess in my habsuite.”

Primus, his voice is so smooth…!

You could feel the shame spread through your tank, but it did nothing to quell the growing lust. If anything, it enhanced it- making you quiver in delight. Something which did not escape Starscream's notice.

“You're getting off of this… My, what a masochistic little slut you are.”

A furious warmth spread across your cheek plates, the shame-lust combination growing stronger and causing your modesty plate to heat up to an uncontrollable level. You didn't think you were like this, that you were into someone making you do things like this. Maybe it was a Starscream only thing. He was an attractive mech, with a voice that was clearly making you melt.

Finally, the floor was clean. The taste of transfluid was heavy on your glossa. Looking up, you met Starscream's optics and wondered what was next. What the next depraved act you were going to succumb to was going to be. Starscream hummed, his wings flicking slightly.

“Hmm, that's good enough, I suppose.”

Tilting his head, Starscream regarded you with a look you couldn't quite discern. Suddenly, he gave you a wicked smile- it seemed he had decided on what to do.

“I believe I should reward you. You've been a good little slut to your lord and master.” He waved his servo lazily, his smile becoming somewhat crooked. “Sit down and spread your legs.”

Shuffling yourself, you quickly sat up from the floor and spread your legs. Looking down, you could see that the device on your modesty panel held fast and was still keeping your code from automatically opening it. Primus, you needed relief…

“Good to see the panel closer is still overriding your code. How does it feel? Does it make you feel desperate for relief?”

Whining, you nodded your head. Unsatisfied with your response, Starscream scoffed.

“Don't skimp on the details now- tell me how it feels, or this ends right here, right now- with the override still in place and you all charged up. Maybe if you're lucky, the Vehicons will take pity on you but I wouldn't bet on it.”

“It- it's so- It hurts, I want- I-I need my p-panel open! M-my valve- it feels so, so hot, it's p-pushing against the panel, m-my node, oh Primus, I-I can feel my spike pressing a-against the p-panel- leaking, it's all so wet and- pl-please, please take it off!”

You were rambling, begging and all the while, Starscream didn't say anything- he only smiled. A beeping noise was heard, and then the panel overrider suddenly fell off your panels to the ground, useless. It was quickly followed by a hydraulic hiss and clicking of your panel opening.

The relief was immediate. You spike instantly pressurised fully and stood tall, transfluid weeping from the slit. Your valve was a mess- lubricant was all but gushing from your heat, the bio-lights and anterior node blinking fast. You had never been so charged before in your life

“My, what a lovely spike. What a pretty valve. Perhaps you are wasted as a Decepticon soldier.”

While your mind was hazy with arousal, you weren't so lost that the implication for what Starscream was saying flew over your helm. You glared at Starscream, your derma pulled back into a snarl.

“How- I'm a Decepticon! I'm a warrior, damn it! I'm not some- some doe-eyed buy mech that you can jus- Ah-ahhnn~!”

Your angry words were cut off by Starscream suddenly bringing his foot up and stepping on your engorged anterior node, a lewd moan ripping through your vocaliser. 

“My, what a proud warrior you are. Howling like a turbo fox in heat when you're stepped on by your betters.”

Starscream grinded the ball of his pede into your aching node, drawing out gasps and moans from you. Your vents hitched, the friction feeling like heaven after your panel was forcibly kept shut for so long. Mewling, your optics were closed shut as your frame shook and heaved.

“Wh-what- what are you-?”

“You really are a filthy slut, aren't you? And making me do all the work…”

Suddenly, he stopped grinding his foot into you. You gasped, optics snapping open and looking at Starscream. He smirked down at you, his back straightened as his servos clasped behind his back.

“Grind.”

The one word command sent shame through your frame. But you obeyed, grinding your anterior node against the ball of his pede. You choked out a moan, desperately chasing the overload that was just there, just in front of you-

“Look at you. Grinding yourself against my thruster heel, chasing after an overload while laying on the ground like an animal. Pitiful.”

You whined, nearly crying when he lifted his heel away from your desperate node. He smirked down at you- this one was much more like his usual ones, predatory and cocky.

“Your bio lights are blinking so brightly and rapidly, you were about to overload, weren't you? Oh, look at your face- it's plain as day. I'm sorry, am I depriving you?”

Bottom derma quivering, you stared at Starscream with a searing hatred. Your hips jerked up when his pede moved closer to your dripping heat, only barely touching the soft protoform mesh but he quickly moved it away, smirking at your apparent desperation.

“Pl-please…” You bit your derma, tears pricking at the corner of your optics. You were willing to beg, plead for relief. You were willing to do just about anything to get your overload. You were willing to call Starscream by his preferred, delusional title. “Please, L-Lord Starscream.”

Starscream visibly perked up, his wings fluttered. He smiled, almost fondly. The illusion of friendliness ended when he chuckled darkly, his smile was quickly replaced with a much more starscream-y smirk.

“How can I refuse my little slut when you're begging like that?”

His pede returned and this time he put greater pressure on your node, making you hiss. He gave you one word, a command.

“Grind.”

With no hesitation, you rolled your hips and groaned at the wave of pleasure that washed over your frame. Frantically, you chased that feeling- rubbing and grinding your anterior node on his heel. Your vents hitched and stuttered and your hip struts were beginning to burn.

“Look at you- so desperate for release that you're sitting on the floor and grinding against my pede.”

All you could do was whimper in response and grind even harder and faster, you were close, so so close…!

“I can see it on your face- you're close. You're about to overload. You're even drooling.”

You hoped that Starscream wouldn't shut his mouth for once- his voice, his demeaning words, were edging you closer to climax. Your optics were blurring with fuzz, glitching out with coolant tears freely falling down your cheeks. So close, so close…!

“Go on, then- overload for me.”

That was all you needed- it was almost like you needed permission to overload. You cried out, your charge blitzing with an electric buzz as you came undone. Your valve clenched as a wave over pleasure crashed through you- your optics finally gave out and offlined- needing a hard reboot to online them. You choked out a sob, a spray of transfluid coating Starscream's pede. You had finally found release, and by Primus, it had felt so damn good.

You collapsed on the ground, your vents shuddering. So many of your systems needed to be rebooted, soft and hard alike. Your spinal strut was sore, slightly throbbing and your processor was slowing down to a crawl from all the system reboots you were undergoing.

For a nanoklik, you laid there, revelling in your post-overload bliss- so much so you had completely forgotten Starscream's presence. Naturally, he didn't like not being the center of attention.

“I see you're enjoying yourself.”

All you could do was hum in response. You onlined your optics- they were still fuzzy and lines of code were running over your vision. Very roughly, you could see Starscream through it all. His smarmy face told you everything you needed to know.

Starscream looked down and his smug face very quickly switched to surprise- only to just as quickly return to his usual haughty face. At first, you didn't know why… until you jolted at the feel of his pede tapping the base of your spike.

“My oh my, still hard even after such an overwhelming overload? Impressive.”

Shuddering at Starscream's words, you felt the tip of his pede trace the underside of your spike. The gasp you took was stuttered, your optics weren't still fully rebooted when they started to glitch again from the light tap Starscream gave the head of your spike. 

“You're a filthy bot, aren't you? Getting off on your better stepping on you…”

You whined in response as Starscream ground on the tip of your spike, more transfluid leaking from the slit. It was all you could do, your face burned from embarrassment, coolant tears slowly falling from your optics.

“Pl-please, Starscream-”

“Lord Starscream.”

“L-Lord Starscream, I-I-”

“How pitiful. Such a strong warrior on the battlefield, so fierce against the Autobots… And here you are, whining and stuttering beneath my heel. Blushing and babbling. Tell me, is this what you envisioned when you looked at me?”

He applied more pressure, making you cry out- pain and pleasure combining to leave you breathless, dizzy.

“Leaking transfluid all over my pede? Filthy bot.”

Primus, that voice of his- it should not sound so attractive when he’s berating you, stepping on your spike.

“Perhaps a new position is in order for you- clearly, your talents are wasted on the battlefield. Perhaps you’re better suited being my little pet and being teased by your better, instead of being punched in the face plate. Or maybe you’re into that too…?”

You shook your head rapidly, gasping for air when he gently tapped the head of your spike with his toe pede.

“Nnngh! Lord Starscream~!”

The moan you gave was wanton, shockwaves shot up your spinal strut. Your vents were stuttering, faltering as they struggled to keep your frame from overheating. They were loud, so loud…

Compared to Starscream’s, they might as well be a truck's engine. His fans were on a low setting, barely making more than a slight noise. While Starscream was calm, keeping his emotions in check, you were a mess, barely able to keep yourself from moaning and whimpering.

This feeling, it was somehow more intense than when you were grinding your anterior node against him- this felt overpowering, almost overwhelming.

You were afraid, deathly afraid that he'd put too much pressure on your spike. That something might go pop. But, by Primus, that fear… it somehow morphed into a twisted form of pleasure, heightened even. It was… almost terrifying, how much the idea that he might just add a bit too much weight on such a vulnerable part of you turned you on.

“You'er close, I can tell. I wonder- will this be a shallow overload? Or will you fall into a hard reboot?”

Again, you couldn't give Starscream a coherent response- only more moaning. Starscream smirked.

“Too blissed out to even respond properly.”

There was steam billowing from your frame- you were overheating, your fans couldn't vent the heat quick enough. You whimpered.

“Pl-please…”

“Please what?”

You took a shuddering breath, your ventilation system no longer doing enough to keep your frame from overheating.

“M-more, please- please, make me o-overload.”

“My my, making demands, are we?”

Starscream's smirk was wicked and cruel, but in his optics, there was something softer. Finally, he responded.

“Well, if you insist.”

He pede momentarily left your spike, giving you both respite and despair but just ask quickly as his pede left, it came back with force. You moaned in pain as you felt him dig his heel strut into the soft protoform flesh.

You squirmed under him, your hip struts thrusting into his heel as you looked up at him, at his face. Starscream had a gorgeous, gorgeous face. One that you often wished you could punch, for one reason or the other. Now, you just wanted to kiss him endlessly. Or, at least, for him to keep looking down at you like you were nothing but a speck of trash in his way. If you were being completely honest, he probably did see you as that.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Overload already!”

Who were you to refuse? With a screech that was scrambled with static, you overloaded. You felt your transfluid splattered onto your chassis and some of it caught on Starscream pede, staining it fluorescent pink. You frame heaved with each wave, silent sobs wracking through your offlined vocaliser. Your processor went blank- so overcome by your climax you didn't notice Starscream smile like a turbofox that had caught it's prey

You finally felt yourself begin to calm down. You had to manually pant, your ventilation system was still struggling to come online after two consecutive overloads. You felt yourself relax on the floor, if only a little bit.

It couldn't last.

“You not only dirtied my habsuit floor, but now you've gone and made a mess of my heel thruster.”

You were still panting, a fresh stream of tears now falling down your cheek plates. You were a mess- a shaking, sticky mess. You stared up at Starscream with wet, pleading optics. Pleading for some mercy, for a small break.

Starscream was not a merciful mech, however.

He raised his pede and brought it to your mouth, his toe pede lightly tapping on your chin. It left a wet mark, the smell of transfluid flooding your olfactory.

“Go on- clean up your mess.”

Shakily, you open your mouth and swipe your glossa against the bottom of his toe pede, licking your transfluid away. Sweet and tangy like last time, only warmer.

“That's it- lick it all up. You really are a masochistic slut, aren't you?”

You shivered- his words went straight down to your valve, your callipers clenching on nothing but his words. Primus above, you could potentially overload on his words alone with how charged up you still were despite the overload you just had.

“You like it when I call you that, hmm? My, you certainly are a treasure…”

Starscream chuckled lightly, his red optics shone with amusement. His smirk was condescending,, and you could tell he felt victorious as he… played with you. You certainly felt like you were being played with… But you were ok with that. Primus, you couldn't believe you were ok with admitting this- you were ok with being treated like this. You were ok with licking your fluids off of Starscream's heel.

The realisation made you dizzy, your valve once more clenching and leaking more lubricant. You moaned as you licked, swallowing your transfluid and making sure not to miss a single drop. You lovingly licked Starscream's heel, all the while making sure you kept near constant optic contact with him. He gave you a smirk, clearly pleased with your performance.

“Keep going- don't half aft your job.”

And kept going you did. You kept your licks clean and firm, swallowing each time not wanting to slobber all over his heel. You wanted to clean, not make things dirtier.

Finally, you were done. His pede was clean of your transfluid. Starscream scrutinised your work, looking for any trace that you might have mistakenly left behind. Finally, he made a noise of approval.

“You've done well enough. Now, Make sure to kiss my heel and thank me for this.”

You were tired, too tired to really understand his request and the meaning behind it- what he was telling you to thank him for. With a tenderness you didn't know you had in you, you kissed his heel in an almost loving manner.

“Th-thank you, Lord Starscream.”

“For- for your hospitality and, and kindness.”

“For?”

You weren't sure if that was the correct thing to say until he smiled- seemingly preening himself at how subservient you were towards him.

“I was kind and hospitable, wasn't I? Instead of punishing you for your voyeurism, I rewarded you. Almost unfairly so… It's going to be a one time thing. I catch you looking at me like that again, there will be consequences. Understand?”

Weakly, you nodded.

“Good. Good. I like you. Maybe, I'll reward you again. Wouldn't you like that? Wouldn't you like my touch?”

His voice was almost a coo, it was so soft and cloying. Were your processor not in a haze, were you not overstimulated and in a weird… numb state, alarm bells would ringing loudly. Starscream being so soft and kind was… dangerous.

“Y-yes. Yes, Lord Starscream.”

And yet, you still agreed, enthusiastically. You wanted him to touch you again, to demean and degrade you, to treat you as less than a bug. To look at you with disdain from above, with his heel thrusters digging into the soft protoform flesh of your spike and to make you clean his heel thruster when you inevitably dirty it.

“Please.”

It was a one word beg, but it said everything. And you knew Starscream understood what you meant by it by his victorious smirk.

“Good, very good. My personal washracks are just over there. Clean up after yourself before you leave. Until next time… pet.”

With that, he turned away from you and swiftly walked out of his habsuite without sparing a glance your way, the only noise being your vents, the habsuite door closing and the click-clack noise of Starscream's heel thrusters. He left you on the floor in a wet spot, frame numb and processor slow. 

It was confusing and yet it made total sense. You think it did, anyways. 

Really, all you knew is that despite all of your overloads you really wanted your valve filled. Maybe, if you asked Starscream kindly enough, he might entertain indulging you. With that encouraging thought, you slowly got up from the floor and trudged over to the washracks he had graciously (and thankfully) allowed you to use.

#transformers #starscream #valveplug #transformers prime #tfp #tfp starscream #starscream/reader #starscream x reader #transformers fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction