#like no thoughts head empty only ultra magnus hours | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

archie-sunshine · 4 months

Text

Survey Says-! (18+ Rodimus/EVERYONE)

Chapter 3: Chatterbox (Rodimus/Swerve)

Rodimus is NOT bitter about the results of the crew satisfaction survey, in fact, he’s fully prepared to change! He’s determined to change his crew’s minds, and what better way to do so than to get to know them- in the carnal sense that is.

There are no problems with this plan in Rodimus’s mind. There are many in Ultra Magnus’s. Magnus engages in some unfortunate(for Rodimus) damage control as head of Cybertronian Resources. Rodimus is not easily deterred.

Read on AO3 here! Other Chapters Here!

FIC TAGS: Rodimus/Everyone(But y’know, not like. EVERYONE. Just a lot of various background characters and also more specifically with some others), Takes place post dark cybertron, but pre the whole ship disappearing thing and the mutiny, smut, Chastity, denial, Rodimus is a slut, Ongoing humiliation, HR Violations as comedy, Ultra Magnus is clueless, sticky sexual interfacing, comedy, sexual comedy, dubious consent (if you squint and tilt your head), contains illustrations

____________________________

Authors notes: Ok so my personal headcanon is that Swerve can absolutely get it, and the whole crew would probably let swerve hit on some capacity, but he never wants to ask so he's very pent up. I think he and rodimus fuck a lot as well, like out of convenience.

CHAPTER TAGS: rodimus/swerve, blowjobs, oral fixation, subspace(I think??? rodimus gets loopy from how horny he is), dirty talk(but like in a swerve will not shut up kind of way)

Rodimus was adjusting to his punishment quicker than Ultra Magnus had expected. He appeared to be more efficient during his shifts, still fidgeting in the captains chair, but now no longer interfering and bothering those others on duty. Magnus was exceptionally pleased with his work in the past 3 cycles. He could practically already hear the joy coming just around the corner for Rodimus, when his efforts to become more professional rewarded him with the praise the prime so desired.

Ultra Magnus remained still by the captain’s side, listening to him confidently delegating, listening to the tone with which Rodimus ordered Mainframe to adjust their trajectory to closer suit their previous path. A more focused, concentrated expression set itself across Rodimus’s faceplate, a contemplative hand resting over his intake and chin. For once, Rodimus was keeping his field close to the chest, which Ultra Magnus decided must have been an intentional choice to maintain a professional face. The larger bot beamed internally, turning his gaze out to the observation window.

Hazarding a moment of praise, Ultra Magnus sent Rodimus a brief ping.

UM: Your professionalism is noted and appreciated, Captain.

Rodimus stiffened further in his chair, optics briefly flicking to Ultra Magnus before refocusing out the window.

After a moment of quiet, Rodimus responded.

R: Thank you, Magnus.

Ultra Magnus’s spark swelled with pride at Rodimus’s progress. If things were going this well after only 5 cycles, Magnus had no doubts that this punishment would be over sooner than either of them had expected.

“This is somehow worse than I ever could have thought.” Rodimus moaned, faceplate flaring purple with energon as his friends gazed piteously at the magnetizer around his panels. He had propped himself up on one of the table booths at Swerve’s, now being treated as a makeshift examination table as Whirl, Skids, Tailgate, and Swerve crowded around. It was off hours, and the bar was empty, save for the group that had gathered around the ailing captain.

“Is it really that awful?” Skids asked, cocking his head. “I mean… It’s not like it’s really constricting anything, yeah?”

“Well no, not NOW, but when I’m- Y’know, when the junk can’t exactly escape the trunk-” Rodimus gestured unhelpfully over his crotch, earning a stifled snicker from Whirl.

“Yeesh, yeah that sounds tough, Rodimus.” Tailgate winced sympathetically.

“Yeah, it is tough.” Rodimus huffed, crossing his arms over his chassis. “And can you believe ratchet didn’t take it off? My health could have been at risk and he didn’t even consider it!”

“Uh, yeah I can absolutely believe that Ratchet did that.” Skids chuckled.

“He could have at least checked!!” Rodimus glared at Skids, earning a slag eating grin. “I thought I was Ratchet’s friend, I can’t believe he’d let this happen to me.”

“Must be slowing ‘The Rodimus Apology Initiative’ down somethin fierce then, eh, Roddy?” Swerve asked, nudging Tenn in a different direction to mop a half dry energon spill off the ground.

“I’m still trying to squeeze as many meetings in as I can, but they take longer to bounce back from now.” Rodimus sighed, sitting up and going to slide off the side of the table.

“Wait! I bet I could get it off!” Whirl piped up. Rodimus turned to him hopefully. “Just lay back down, trust me.” Whirl snickered, clacking his sharp claws together. Rodimus’ tank squeezed uncomfortably at the idea of those things feeling around his junk.

“Ha Ha, I don’t think so.” Rodimus scoffed, shifting up off the table and stretching. He sat back down on the booth’s seat, snatching his engex cube up and taking a long, laboured swig.

“Y’know roddy, you could always just… not torture yourself with the meetings?” Tailgate pointed out.

“And forfeit connecting with my crew? For shame.” Rodimus placed an offended hand on his own chassis, faceplate aghast.

Skids looked as if he was about to say something as Siren’s voice crackled over the speakers.

“Attention Crew! We are currently on course to pass into a minor cosmic storm in 10 kliks. There is nothing to fear, however, we encourage all those not currently on duty in the engines and bridge to take shelter within their personal hab suite, so as to prevent any damage caused to communal areas. Thank you!”

The group took a moment to process, before sighing and beginning to disperse.

“Be seein you.” Skids nodded, stretching a bit before jogging out of the bar.

“Take care fellas!” Tailgate chirped before trotting away.

“Good luck with you spike issues!” Whirl snickered halfway through his transformation.

Rodimus groaned, slowly taking a long sip of engex. He wasn’t exactly feeling hot in the panels, but all that observation had done something to liven him at least a bit. He felt warm, just on the edge of pleasant and uncomfortable, like an itch you can reach but never seem to satisfy.

Swerve gathered up the empty cubes the group had left, wandering to put them away. He noticed Rodimus was lingering and cleared his vocalizer.

“So uh… wanna come back to mine for some holovids?” Swerve asked.

“Frag yes.” Rodimus answered.

(go to my AO3 for the illustrated version)

It wasn’t as if this was the first time he and Swerve had fooled around like this. Far from it in fact. Whenever there was downtime, the two of them always seemed to be in the right place at the right time to blow off some steam.

This was different though.

“Y’know, he actually ad libbed that line, it was like- Ah- s-slower please- it was like a stroke of genius, right?” Swerve babbled, his clumsy digits petting at the side of Rodimus’s helm. The couch was comfortable under Rodimus’s side, giving his knee joints a much needed break as he laid his helm across Swerve’s lap and attended to the minibot’s spike. The captain lazily dragged his glossa around the side of his shaft, mouthing at the tip gently. His optics felt glazed and unfocused, gazing out at the holovid screen and only halfway understanding what was going on.

Apparently it was a human parody of another human movie, something about their approximation of space travel before they’d really achieved anything in that field outside of throwing some of them to their moon. Rodimus swiped his glossa over Swerve’s tip, gathering the prefluid that had beaded there and swallowing it down.

“A-ah-AND! See, there, they’re like, doin kind of a riff on how in the original movies-” Swerve choked as Rodimus sank his helm down on his spike, taking it easily into his mouth. “Ghh-hah- Roddy-”

Rodimus hummed lowly, indicating for him to keep talking. He didn’t really know why he did, Swerve was a thousand times more annoying like this. He was a lot less chatty when Rodimus was spiking him, and the constant trivia about this movie wasn’t exactly a turn on. Under different circumstances, Rodimus might have been inclined to file this night away in his memory banks as yet another sub par interfacing.

Rodimus felt his fans flare a bit as Swerve’s hand absently stroked over his jaw and neck cabling. Rodimus huffed weakly, dragging his glossa gently up the underside of Swerve’s spike.

“I- hah… I really gotta make you watch Star Wars sometime…” He said, digits stroking over the cables at the back of Rodimus’s neck. “Ouh- I think you’d love Han, he’s like T-t-Taa-ahah- t-totally your style-”

“Mhhmm….?” Rodimus hummed out, slowly pulling his helm back up to lay wet kisses against Swerve’s tip. He was really trying to keep this casual, genuinely, he knew this was just some fun like they usually had… but primus… it felt like he was on fire. Heat oozed from his plating, so much so Rodimus was worried he might melt through the couch cushions. His processor was getting those popups again, warning him of his overcharged frame and his closed panels causing him elevated discomfort, as if he couldn’t feel them himself without the warning.

Rodimus’s optics flickered as Swerve’s digits found a sensitive spot just below his audial. He shuddered and let out a long curl of steam against the minibot’s spike.

“Oh totally,” Swerve panted a bit, grateful for the reprieve, “He’s like a smuggler, but he becomes a hero. It’s all super cool.”

“... cool…” Rodimus agreed, tilting his helm into Swerve’s touch.

“Honestly though? You might like Star Trek better, it’s like the human version of whatever we’re doin, y’know? Explorin the universe?” Swerve’s servo gently urged Rodimus back to work. Rodimus gratefully took the spike back into his mouth halfway, bobbing his head. He was lucky for the other mech’s lack of endowment, or his throat would have been shredded by then. He savoured the blocky seams and soft mesh of Swerve’s shaft, greedily laving his glossa against a flickering biolight and shivering at the lick of charge that rippled down his throat.

The lack of attention Rodimus’s array was getting left his whole frame feeling sensitive. Each gush of prefluid Swerve left on his tongue left the bigger mech’s intake tingling pleasantly, like his whole head was filled with comfortable static. His glossa in particular felt afferent, conducting each spark of charge down through Rodimus’s frame and leaving him quivering. Somewhere in his slowed down processor, his mind produced the image of him overloading just from oral sensation alone. Rodimus whimpered and squeezed his legs tighter around his panels.

“You ok, cap?” Swerve asked, finally turning his face to look at him. He went to place a comforting hand on rodimus’s shoulder plating, only to draw it back with a hiss. “Ah- you’re burnin up-!”

Rodimus sluggishly pried himself off Swerve’s spike, licking his own drool from his dermas. Primus, even they felt sensitive. “‘M fine, Swerve.” He said, immediately going back to mouthing at Swerve’s tip.

“H-hah- If you're uh- If you’re sure- just- Ah- Y’know um-” He reset his vocalizer, digits stroking over the backs of his forehelm finials. “It’s cool if you wanna stop- I don’t want you to overheat or anything-”

I don’t want to stop, I want to keep going, I want to keep using my mouth like this, I want to taste your-

Rodimus pulled back again, just briefly. “I can’t leave a bot hurting like this.” He murmured, tucking one of his arms up under Swerve’s leg and gently rubbing an overcharged digit against Swerve’s valve. Swerve made a noise like his engine was stalling, servo suddenly tightly grasping Rodimus’s finial.

“J-just focus on the spike, Roddy-” Swerve gasped out, steam hissing out through his gritted dentas. Rodimus drew his hand back. On another night he might have pouted about it, but the bartender’s digits gripping at his finials made his processor feel even fuzzier than it already was.

“Uhuh…” Rodimus mumbled, swallowing thickly before returning to his task.

Swerve’s thumb caressed gently up the backside of his finial, grazing at the tip. A lick of charge fizzled between their contact. “I don’t wanna finish too soon… wanna keep your intake on me-ah- as long as possible…”

Rodimus bit back a needy whine, feeling his fans bursting out another gust of hot steam. He rested his helm against Swerve’s retracted modesty panel and licked slowly at the topside of his spike.

“Y’know, its nice you’re doin’ these apologies, I can’t remember the last time ya sucked my spike… you could work on bein’ more generous.” Swerve chuckled breathlessly, canting his hips up to smear the tip of his spike against Rodimus’s cheek.

I never do this because you never shut up. Rodimus thought to himself dazedly.

“... uhuh?” He mewled out, tilting his helm to lay an apologetic kiss against Swerve’s tip.

“Yeah, with an intake like this? ‘S downright greedy not to share.” He scolded teasingly, his servo wandering off of Rodimus’s helm and over his spoiler. Rodimus shuddered, his optics flickering and resetting without permission as Swerve dragged his digits through the gathering coolant there.

Rodimus stopped trying to form coherent thoughts at that point. He let out a desperate, weak moan, obediently licking and mouthing at Swerve’s spike as the minibot groaned lowly in approval.

The kliks came slower after that. It felt like he’d switched his processor off, his movements sluggish and lingering, desperate to taste and feel every crevice and edge and cable Swerve’s spike had to offer. He could distantly feel his panels were wet and leaking again, but Swerve’s digits were petting his spoiler and back plating and finials so gently, melting every worry away.

He could distantly hear Swerve still talking, mentioning the movie, trivia, calling the actors by name like old friends. Occasionally Swerve would say something nice about Rodimus’s intake, or his frame, sending sparks of charge down his overheated body and making him wriggle.

Rodimus felt Swerve’s servo shift, finally urging him to go faster. He wrapped his dermas tight around Swerve’s shaft and began to rock his head. He let his optics flicker off, a dazed giddiness gathering in his overheated processor as he swallowed more and more of the other bot’s prefluid.

“-Rodimus- oh primus- frag-!” Swerve’s vocalizer was raw and glitchy, his hips no longer able to keep from bucking up into his captain’s intake.

Rodimus hollowed his cheeks and pushed his head down further, greedily swallowing around Swerve’s twitching, straining spike.

“A-ah- Oh- Frag, Roddy, I’m gonna- fuck- Like that-!” Swerve babbled out, digits going taught around Rodimus’s spoiler and finials.

Rodimus’s frame surged with excess charge as Swerve unloaded into him, filling his throat with sticky, hot transfluid as the minibot tensed and gasped out steam. Rodimus’s body was alight with energy, his plating flaring and clamping and shaking with unspent charge. It had nowhere to go but out into heat through his desperate, wheezing fans, unable to vent off the heat fast enough. Rodimus felt like his processor was melting, thick and gooey and slow like blown glass. He moaned dumbly.

Swerve finally went still, chassis heaving as he tried to regain control of his vents. “Primus- haaaaaahh….” He wheezed, shakily letting go of Rodimus’s kibble. “... you ok, cap?”

Rodimus pulled back, clearing his vocalizer. “Nnnhhaaahh….” came his glitchy reply. He reset his vocalizer again, offlining his optics and shaking his helm as he began to finally dismiss the army of popups in his processor. “J-just peachy, bud, don’t you worry.”

Rodimus shifted, beginning to return to a sitting position. He made a point not to acknowledge how drenched his thighs were, or the puddle he’d left on Swerve’s couch, in the hopes that Swerve wouldn’t notice.

“Good god, Roddy, what the frag did I do that made that happen?” Swerve snickered. Rodimus cursed internally.

“Shut up.” He mumbled, embarrassment hot in his tanks.

“I thought you were exaggerating about the whole leaking thing, man, you should get that checked out-”

“I did!!” Rodimus sniped hoarsely, still trying to get his vocalizer under control. “Ratchet graciously told me he wouldn’t take it off and gave me some stuff to keep me from overheating.”

“You could ask First Aid?” Swerve suggested, sliding off the couch and closing his panels.

“... I guess. I doubt he’d do anything about it, he’d just defer to Ratchet.” Rodimus huffed. He was still trying to cycle his fans back down. There was steam hissing from between his plating in embarrassing, non-vent places. He must have looked obscene.

Swerve thought for a long, uncharacteristically quiet moment. He returned to the couch with a towel to begin mopping up Rodimus’s mess. The captain bit down on his lower derma to keep quiet as the soft fabric pressed against his panels and inner thighs. He’d never missed that awful, painful overload Blaster had given him more. “Well if you can’t convince any medical staff to get it off ya, there’s always the scientists?”

Rodimus raised his brow ridges. He hadn’t considered that. He began to do the calculations in his processor. Perceptor might be a hard sell, but Brainstorm might be more inclined. He didn’t know Nautica well enough to judge her thoughts on the matter, but it couldn’t hurt to find out.

“That… Is a very good point, Swerve.” Rodimus mused, a scheming smirk slowly pulling at his dermas.

“As you can see, the damage to the hull is negligible, however, if left, could pose some problems in the future.”

Rodimus nodded sagely at Mainframe’s words. “We’ll slow the engines a bit then, send out some maintenance crew to the hull to patch the worst parts. We can dock somewhere later on to address the more minor stuff when we have the time.”

“Yes, Captain.” Mainframe nodded.

“Blaster, send the maintenance crew my orders, please.” Rodimus called, turning on his heel as Blaster relayed the message. He made his way back to the captain’s seat, about to sit down when the shift change ping appeared in his processor.

Right on time, Megatron entered the bridge, nodding to Ultra Magnus as he passed him. Rodimus bit back a frown and also nodded back at Megatron’s curt greeting.

Rodimus cleared his vocalizer a bit, wandering up to Ultra Magnus. “I’m going to consult with Brainstorm about fixing the ship’s shield generators.” He lied, keeping his tone professional and stiff. It felt more like he was doing an Ultra Magnus impression than anything else.

A little spark of guilt bloomed in his chassis when the larger mech’s dermas quirked up in the smallest of smiles. He could feel the unearned pride in Magnus’s field. “Very good, sir.”

Rodimus offered a halfhearted smile, before turning and strolling off down the hallway. It took about 2 kliks of considering how easily he’d get that magnetizer off before all his guilt melted away into giddy excitement, and his faceplate was set in a smug, impish grin.

There was absolutely no way this could go wrong.

#transformers #valveplug #my fic #my art #rodimus #swerve #rodimus/swerve #rodiswerve #/nsfw #mtmte #transformers mtmte #maccadam

73 notes · View notes

dimorphodon-x · 2 years

Text

Ok so I wrote this thing months ago but at the time I didn’t like it. After rereading it now and only making some minor adjustments, I think it’s not so bad, so here, enjoy.

—

Starhawk had the slight feeling that the friendship he’d developed between himself and Rodimus over the last three years had somewhat changed, but as he took another sip from his drink (how many refills had he gone through? He couldn’t really remember), he struggled to come up with a way to describe it.

He glanced at the red and yellow prime, who was currently conversing with some of the other crew members. The lights of the bar had been dimmed for the end of the cycle, and the bar would be closing in another hour or two. The blue lighting had an interesting effect on the prime’s finish, the biolights at his sides looked more yellow than red, and the glow of his eyes cast his face in a gentle hue. Rodimus was honestly a stunning mech…

Starhawk nearly choked on his drink and quickly averted his gaze to the tabletop before anyone, especially Rodimus, noticed his staring. Sure, just about anyone could agree that he was good looking, but that time there was an odd, almost painful twist in his chest as he thought it.

What could that have possibly been about? Should he get checked out at the medical bay?

He shook his head lightly and finished off his drink with a large gulp.

No, he’s had spark pains before, he knew how those felt. This was entirely different. His head felt a bit lighter and his frame was a bit tingly. Hawk glanced at the empty glass in his hand with a frown.

Maybe he was over indulging on the drinks.

But what if I actually like Rodimus? As in really like him?

Oh, that thought made his energon run cold for a second. Hawk always enjoyed hanging out with the prime, but they were more like drinking buddies than anything else. They hardly spoke outside of the bar, mostly because Rodimus was kept busy by Ultra Magnus and Megs.

But that was it.

But what if-

He shut that thought down immediately. Nope. No way. Not happening. He’s never liked anyone like that before.

A chorus of laughter helped stall his thoughts and he turned his attention to the small crowd next to him.

What exactly changed?

Three years ago he would’ve looked at all of their faces, but now he hadn’t paid the others any attention at all.

How would I describe our relationship now?

Rodimus had his head thrown back, his eyes were closed and his mouth open in a wide smile. Laughter rocked through his frame.

Starhawk felt another weird twist in his spark and quickly got up from his seat. He mumbled a very quiet ‘excuse me’ to no one in particular as he turned and hurried out of the bar. He thought he heard the laughter subside and someone call his name, but ignored it. Clearly he overindulged and needed to sleep off the engex. He would forget about his ridiculous half-drunken thoughts when he wakes up the next cycle.

…

I don’t think this is friendship anymore…

#fanfic #transformers #transformers oc #oc x canon #starhawk #rodimus #rodihawk #maybe I should try to make a version in roddy's perspective?#might be a fun exercise anyway

54 notes · View notes

weenwrites · 2 years

Text

TFP Autobots W/ a Jokester Reader

Pairing - Platonic, Romantic ( Up to reader interpretation) Category - Headcanons, Scenarios Trigger Warnings - None, (Deez nuts)

Optimus

Final exams were never too fun, and the stress that came with them made you all the more miserable. You tapped your pencil against your head as you carefully read through the textbook you’ve been staring at for… Two? Maybe three hours now? While you’ve lost track of time, a certain prime hadn’t.

“Y/N, have you eaten or slept properly as of lately?” Optimus began, drawing your attention to the bot you didn’t know was even there.

“Huh? Oh uh… No, not really.” You reply, taking a moment to close your stinging eyes.

“Why have you neglected your health?” He asks gently, bringing you a small tray of food and water with utmost care.

You presume that the tray was kindly put together by the kids before they left, or perhaps Optimus used a pair of tweezers to fix you a meal. You chuckled slightly at the thought of the big bot using a couple of tools to do such a thing.

“I’ve been working on studying for my…” You pause.

You’ve been nothing but bored, tired, and stressed for the past few hours, you figured that a bit of humor couldn’t hurt and so why not try to pull a joke?

“My E-10 exams.” You continue, setting the pencil down as you open your eyes again, blinking a couple times. “They’re worth half my grade.”

“Hm, you are approaching the end of a school semester, and Raf, Jack, and Miko have expressed the importance of final examinations before.” Optimus thinks aloud. “Although grades are important for your future, please keep in mind that your well being is important as well. I hope that you succeed on your E-10 examinations.”

“… E-10 deez nuts.”

(Encase you don’t get it, say E-10 aloud. It sounds like “eatin’.”)

He finds your jokes strange, but he’s happy that they bring you joy. He doesn’t understand them, though, but he can grasp the concept of the joke if you take the time to explain it to him. Much to everyone’s surprise, Optimus smiled at your jokes once. Once!!! Magnus is in disbelief, he couldn’t and still can’t believe that Optimus smiled at your joke. Your joke. Your profane idea of a joke of all things! On the other hand, you got Optimus to smile, he rarely smiles! That’s pretty awesome!

Ratchet

You strode around the platform, pretending to look for something you never lost just to pull a joke on the resident grumpy medic, who happened to be busy repairing his tools.

“Ratchet, do you know where Grabon is?” You begin, looking toward him. “I misplaced it somewhere around base.”

“No.” Ratchet replies, not even taking his gaze off of his work. “What are you talking about?”

“You know… Grabon.” You reply, still as vague as before. “Have you seen it?”

“Have you tried searching in your bag?” He asks, taking utmost care to weld the tool back together. “I’m a bit busy at the moment—can’t you go ask someone else to help you search for it?”

“Yeah, but it isn’t there and I’ve already asked everyone else. Are you sure you haven’t seen it?”

With a sigh, he replies. “I don’t know what a grabon is—“

“Grabon deez nuts.”

No. NEVER make another joke like that around him AGAIN. He hates your jokes too. He now probably refuses to talk to you if you get him more than once in a single day, unless he has to. He’ll be more mindful of what he says in reply to your question or statement.

Ultra Magnus

The base is completely empty. Optimus and Ratchet happened to be out on a mission together, the kids and their respective guardians are all out on patrol, and Smokescreen and Wheeljack had just left to train in another hangar. You and Ultra Magnus were the only two in the area and for a while you stood in complete silence until you broke it.

“Well… Looks like it’s just you, me, and mifat.” You say with a sigh, planting your hands/servos on your hips as you cast him a glance.

“Mifat?” The officer repeats, his gaze now on you. “Who is mifat?”

“Mifat nuts.” You smirk. “You are so easy to get.”

He hates your jokes. He hates your jokes so very much. Magnus deems your jokes to be highly inappropriate and disrespectful. If he hears you catch Optimus or any other higher rank with a “deez nuts joke,” he’ll give you a 2 hour lecture on why you should NOT do that. He falls for your jokes every single time and Wheeljack never lets him live it down. It’s safe to say he absolutely hates it here. You are ONE more reason he’ll look forward to leaving Earth, if that time ever comes, that is… Or unless you’re Cybertronian, then he hopes to see the day that he does not have to order you around anymore. He most definitely will never talk to you again unless he HAS to.

Bulkhead

“Bulk, you were asking about where I went yesterday, yeah?” You query as you strode alongside him through the dense coniferous forest.

You fold your hands/servos behind your back, walking along rather cheerily as you stick close to him. Miko sits perched like a bird on Bulkhead’s shoulder as he closely monitors a scanner’s readings. The three of you were out on a simple, harmless, recon mission. Bulkhead only brought a scanner in hopes to find an energon signal that’d eventually lead him to a mine.

“Yeah, I haven’t seen you all day.” Bulkhead replies with a nod, his gaze lingering on the scanner for a few seconds before he looks to you. “No one else had either.”

“I was at Y-M-H.” You reply, trying your hardest to suppress your laughter.

“What?” The bot replies, clearly confused. He thinks about every known location he knows of before replying. “Y-M-H?”

“Yo mama’s house.” You retort with a smug smirk, leaving him baffled beyond belief.

Miko’s jaw drops as she whips around to look at you. She exchanges a glance with Bulkhead, a grin slowly spreading across her face as he only grew more and more befuddled as the two of you only laughed.

But… He… Doesn’t have a mom? He isn’t… What?? HUH??? He is nothing but confused until Miko explains the joke. Even then he doesn’t really get your sense of humor at all, but ok! If it makes you happy and does no harm then, he’s fine with it. Whenever you get another bot with a deez nuts joke, he is STILL confused. Like sure, keep doing it if it makes you happy, but do NOT try to get Ultra Magnus, please.

Wheeljack

Humming contentedly to yourself, you lean against the wall at the base as the other bots roll straight into base after a successful mission. However when a certain reckless wrecker comes skidding to a halt within the base and transforming, you quickly jump to your pedes and wave to him.

“Hey! Hey Wheeljack!” You call out.

“Eh? Hey, Y/N!” The wrecker replies, spinning around to look at you.

“Dee wanted me to tell you they said hi!” You explain as he takes a couple of simple and long strides over to you.

“Oh, Dee?” He repeats as you nod. “Is that a friend of your’s or somethin’?”

“Deez nuts!” You retort smugly. “Ha! Gottem.”

What the frag have you done. WHAT HAVE YOU DONE? Great job you’ve taught him about deez nuts jokes. He uses deez nuts jokes on Magnus ALL the time, sometimes on Ratchet, but mostly on Magnus. He also finds them hilarious, mostly whenever someone falls for them. Magnus hates you.

Bumblebee

A massive, bright, swirling portal of ghostly greens and pale neon blues split open in the air. You and Bee stepped out from the portal and examined your surroundings as the portal closed in on itself. You were dropped off in a mountainous region with gray clouds that rolled overhead. The mountains were covered in multiple amber or bright yellow trees, and whenever a gust of wind swept by, you’d notice a multitude of crisp leaves were swept up in the breeze.

“Hey, Bee did you bring the paradee?” You ask, looking to the yellow bot as the two of you began walking, “It’s really important.”

Bumblebee returned a confused glance along with a couple beeps and buzzes. He raises an optical ridge, prompting you to continue.

“Yeah, the paradee.” You nod. “Didn’t Optimus tell you anything about it before we left?”

The scout narrowed his optics, trying to recall if anyone mentioned something called a paradee. Did they mention something, and he just forgot about it? Maybe he wasn’t paying proper attention? But that was unlikely. He always paid attention! You said the paradee was important to the mission, really important. Was he going to jeopardize your mission because he forgot something called a paradee? He let out a couple distressed beeps and buzzes and only watched as you shot him a glance from behind your shoulder.

“Paradeez nuts.” You simply smirked.

You made him panic a bit, there… But he was relieved that it was just a joke in the end. He tries not to fall for your jokes, but he doesn’t really care if he falls for one anyway. Expect to hear a couple giddy beeps that somewhat resemble laughter or giggles whenever he hears someone fall for your jokes.

Arcee

With her optics set on the broad mountain range in front of you two, she hardly notices as you begin to worriedly rummage through your bag. As a result, she nearly walks off without you while you zip your bag shut and slip it back over your shoulders before suddenly speaking up.

“Arcee, wait! Wait! I forgot my fermented succondese back at base!” You exclaim, drawing her gaze toward you.

“Your what?” She questions. “You’ve forgotten your what back at base?”

“Fermented succondese. Didn’t you hear me?

“I did, but what’s fermented succondese—” The motorcycle questions.

“Fermented succondese nuts!” You exclaim.

She stares at you, narrowing her bright blue optics, anything but amusement on her face, all the while you’re smiling smugly, rather proud of yourself for that joke. With a groan, she turns around, back now facing you.

“Har har, very funny.” Arcee replies sarcastically. “Now come on, we have a mission.” She rolls her optics, beginning to walk away while you continue to smile.

She isn’t amused. Not one bit.

Cliffjumper

“So humans really eat those?” Cliffjumper queried.

The two of you were just cruising down a normal patrol route, the dry red desert zooming right by as country music faintly played in the background. You were seated in the front passenger seat, looking toward the radio where his voice emanated from as you nod.

“Yeah, and the worst part is that not many people really know what hotdogs are made of.” You nod in reply, trying not to gag in disgust at how Jack eats those so cluelessly. Human cuisine was truly a mix of wonderful genius and disgusting goop.

“That is naasty.” Cliffjumper cringed.

“Yeah and—“ You pause as a sudden idea hits you.

You just happened to know a joke regarding a certain spaghetti brand. As a sly smile slowly crept up onto your face, you lean back in his seat and look away.

“There’s this one spaghetti brand—it’s pretty good—it’s called Chef Boyardee.” You explain, watching as his rear-view mirrors adjust themselves to look at you.

“Chef Boyardee, huh?” He replies, swerving around the bend in the road.

“Yeah.” You nod. “Chef boy-are-deez nuts tasty!”

He finds it pretty hilarious whenever someone falls for one of your deez nuts jokes, or joe mama jokes. He might’ve memorized a couple of them to use on his fellow teammates, actually. He doesn’t constantly bother the others with jokes like Smokescreen or Wheeljack would, he uses them sparingly and when it’s appropriate to do so. So no one really minds, besides he actually gets a smile or a chuckle out of people rather than a drawn out, tired groan. If you’re human, he’ll teach you the Cybertronian equivalent of a deez nuts joke, or basically just exchange jokes in general. You’ll teach him Earth humor and jokes, and he’ll teach you the Cybertronian equivalent!

Smokescreen

Sure stake-out missions weren’t exactly the “funnest” to be on, but they were necessary in order to properly investigate whatever the Decepticons were doing at some random power plant. In this case you and Smokescreen were teamed together, and for the past few hours you were eying the building, waiting for the Decepticons to make a move.

“What’re you looking at?” Smokescreen pipes up, drawing your attention away from whatever it was you were staring at. “The power plant’s over there, you know.”

“Yeah yeah I do…” You retort with a wave of your servo.

The boredom was eating away at the two of you, and you were just hoping that something interesting would at least lighten the situation. But you’ve been waiting for hours now, and that moment never came, and so why not make something amusing happen yourself? With a devious smirk slightly creeping up on your faceplate, you cast him a brief glance before looking away.

“Have you ever heard of the news in Kenya today?” You ask.

“No? What’s the news in Kenya about?” Smokescreen asks.

Your smirk widens at how easy it was to trick the poor rookie.

“Is it the ‘cons?” The clueless bot continues.

“Oh I’ll tell you all about it… But first, Kenya fit deez nuts in yo mouth?”

Mere seconds after those words left your intake, his doorwings droop as his optics round in shock. Smokescreen very well understand what he’s just fallen for and he feels completely and utterly stupid for falling your joke all the while you’re getting a good laugh out of it.

Well he’s not too happy whenever he falls for your jokes but apart from that… What have you done. You’ve taught him about deez nuts jokes and now he’ll be using them on his team and the cons all the time now. He feels so smug whenever he gets someone with a deez nuts joke. He has the SMUGGEST expression on his faceplate, he feels so proud of himself whenever someone falls for it. He actually got Megatron once, and the warlord wasn’t too happy with it. Smokescreen nearly smiled for a fusion canon blast to the head, but he’d say it was worth it. Why? Why did you do this? Are you proud of yourself?

310 notes · View notes

nonbinarybrainstorm · 4 years

Note

ultra magnus and roddy size kink and lingerie?

Schools back so sorry for the delay but anywho~ Here it is!

Rodimus shifts his position for what must be the twentieth time as he waits for Ultra Magnus to come back to his berthroom, adjusting his corset that’s more lace than cloth that barely hid anything again as well. He tucks his thumbs into his lace panties and resettles them, striking a pose that shows off the best parts of his frame which of course is every part. Five more minutes go by and Magnus still hasn’t come back from his shift even though it had ended more than half an hour ago. Rodimus sighs and considers just leaving, starting to lose confidence in this being a good idea. He didn’t even know if Mags like stuff like this so he really was just taking a gamble on that and what if he wasn’t in the mood after working? What if he had a stressful day and Rodimus was just piling more on top of everything? What if Mags got mad at him? He starts working himself into a frenzy and is about to leap off the berth to race back to his room when the door finally opens to reveal Ultra Magnus. Rodimus freezes as Magnus takes a step or two into the room, optics still locked on a datapad so he hasn’t noticed him yet but now it’s too late for Rodimus to make his escape.

Magnus finally looks up and the datapad falls from his hand with loud “crack” as it hits the ground but he can’t seem to find it in himself to care as he devours the sight before him with wide optics. Rodimus feels his frame heat with a rapid flush that blooms from his spark up to his faceplate and down through his core all the way down to his pedes. He suddenly can’t meet Magnus’ optics and looks away to a far point of the wall, words stuck in his intake as he feels strangely exposed in front of Magnus. Shifting his legs in a vain attempt to conceal his array, he can hear the stutter of a low growling engine and looks over from the corner of his optic to see Magnus completely enraptured by him. Only when Magnus doesn’t notice he’s stepped on his datapad, ruining it further, does Rodimus begin to worry that he’s gone and broken the poor mech. He forgets that train of thought, however, as soon as Magnus hooks one digit under the lace, tugging it up ever so slightly and brushing against Rodimus’ plating.

With a suppressed shudder, Rodimus speaks softly, optics burning into those hands Magnus knew how to use so expertly, “So, I’m guessing you like it?”

Magnus lifts Rodimus’ face up gently, cupping his face in one hand and kisses him tenderly, his lips pressing slowly with Rodimus’ as if he were drinking him in. Rodimus’ processor goes fuzzy and any nervousness he felt before melts away as Magnus pushes him into the berth, pressing Rodimus down as his hands roam the lace-covered plating that’s quickly heating under his touch. Pausing for just a moment, Magnus presses his face into Rodimus’s neck to breathe him in.

“I’m going to show you just how much I like it,” Magnus promises oh so sweetly in a low tone that has Rodimus choking back a moan.

He leans up off of Rodimus with a lingering touch, teasing the plating under the delicate lace as he goes.

“Pink…” Magnus hums appreciatively, “Quite the salacious color…”

Rodimus chuckles between soft gasps, genuinely elated at Magnus’ approval, “You know me… go big or go home.”

“Yes,” Magnus’s voice takes a darker turn as his optics dim, a tone that gets Rodimus to bite his lip, “I know that very well.”

Magnus leans on one hand as he brings his other to Rodimus’s panel and rubs into the sensitive plating, the delicate lace and silk tickling Rodimus’s sensors so he squirms and twitches under Magnus’ touch. Rodimus’s hands dig into Magnus’s plating as his panels snap open letting Magnus push against his folds so the panties rub against his node. Lubricant forms at Magnus’s touch, the contrast of the soft fabric against his node and the rough press of Magnus’s fingers is pushing Rodimus up a wall, heat and charge licking his lines. Rodimus jolts with surprise as Magnus tugs the panties up to push against his node and between his folds and grinds against the pressure, needing more friction.

“You’re getting so wet,” Magnus kisses the side of Rodimus’s helm and smiles as he listens to the little noises Rodimus is making, “You’ve already soaked through your panties… Do you think I can get you to the point where you’re dripping?”

Rodimus keens and gasps, “Stop teasing me, Mags. I need more, please.”

Magnus nips Rodimus’s neck cables as he slides the crotch of the panties aside and pushes one finger into Rodimus as he whispers, “You’re so lovely like this.”

Rodimus wraps his arms around Magnus’s neck and rides his finger as best as he can, his hips jerking against the touch as Magnus pushes deeper into him. Bringing one arm up behind Rodimus, Magnus cradles him as he begins to thrust his digit in and out of Rodimus. As Rodimus begins to pant, Magnus works him faster, drinking in every sound Rodimus makes. Gradually, Magnus adds a second finger, pushing into Rodimus as his valve gives way, loosening at the shallow thrusts as Magnus kisses against Rodimus’s neck. He begins to work Rodimus, this time a bit faster, making Rodimus moan and softly cry out.

“Yes, just like that, Rodimus,” Magnus encourages, watching Rodimus’s face as he comes undone, optics flickering and mouth hung open beautifully in gasps and pants, “You’re gorgeous like this… Thank you for wearing this for me, I love it.”

Rodimus whimpers and clings harder to Magnus as his valve tightens on Magnus’s fingers, the heat nearly overwhelming his systems.

Magnus ducks down and presses his helm against Rodimus’ and whispers, “I want to watch you overload just like this.”

As if on command, Rodimus is tossing his helm back with a shout as his hips twitch erratically and his valve gushes lubricant over Magnus’s fingers, his entire frame roaring with heat. Then he’s coming down and Magnus is slipping his digits from Rodimus’s valve, leaving him almost painfully empty. He didn’t want this to be over, he needed more. As if hearing his thoughts, Magnus shifts and Rodimus has to bite a finger to contain his eagerness as Magnus’s thick spike rests against his valve, rubbing languidly between his valve lips. Rodimus can already feel his charge building back up again as the head of Magnus’ spike and ridges rub against his node and tease his entrance.

“Are you ready?” Magnus asks with dimmed optics and a soft pant while looking far more composed than he had any right to be.

“Yeah,” Rodimus leans back and lets his legs fall wider, beckoning Magnus to enter him.

It’s a slow process as Magnus’s spike pushes into him, the head of his spike spreading Rodimus’ valve wide in order to accommodate the sheer size of his spike. Rodimus moans at the pleasurable ache building in his valve as ridge after ridge push into him until Magnus is all the way hilted into him. Looking down at his frame, Rodimus can’t help the needy groan that escapes him as his optics scan over his extended plating and his valve lips stretched wide, squeezing down on Magnus’s spike. Magnus starts moving and it takes all Rodimus’s willpower to not overload then and there. Always gentle and so tender, Magnus takes it slow, enjoying how Rodimus can barely contain himself at even the slightest movement as lubricant pushes past his spike and onto the berth. Rodimus’s valve is tight and hot around his spike, making it hard to maintain control as he pushes deep into Rodimus. A hand falls on his wrist and Magnus stops for a moment, feeling how overwhelmingly hot his frame has become as he pants, staring down at Rodimus.

“I can take it,” Rodimus gasps and swallows thickly.

With a low groan, Magnus adjusts his grip onto Rodimus’s hips and thrusts faster than before, becoming faster and faster and more erratic as he loses himself. Rodimus digs into the berth as Magnus pounds into him, stretching him almost unbearably wide and slamming home with every thrust, rocking him to his very core. Unable to take much more, Rodimus cries out Magnus’s name and feels his valve try to clench further around Magnus’s spike. Then hot transfluid is spilling into Rodimus as Magnus digs his fingers into Rodimus’ hips, sending pinpricks of pain and pleasure through Rodimus and pushing him even further over the edge so his whole body quakes from the force of his overload. He’s still experiencing aftershocks as Magnus pulls out of him and transfluid spills from his valve, making him shiver. Magnus kisses away the last of the tension in Rodimus’s frame and he immediately feels tired, more than gladly collapsing into Magnus’s embrace.

“I think you should wear this more often,” Magnus whispers and Rodimus just giggles as he falls into deep recharge.

#valveplug #rodimags #rodimus #ultra magnus #nubbs writes #Anonymous

171 notes · View notes

writeyouin · 4 years

Note

It says asks are closed, but your recent post said they're open? If they are closed, that's fine, sorry to bother. Love your stuff btw! What if LL crew were temporarily turned human. The human liason helps them adjust (even if this is just for a while-they hope) and since it's Christmas, they decide to make everyone a traditional Christmas dinner (or as close to it as they can...) Who actually helps in the kitchen, who's more of a hindrance, and who sneaks food when they think no one's looking?

Transformers MTMTE/LL Reader Insert – For Just One Day

A/N – This one was tricky, trying to fit everyone in.

Warnings – Very Mild NSFW

Rating – T

It started with a stupid bet that the crew wouldn’t last a day as humans. To be honest, you forgot even making the bet with Brainstorm, but apparently those were your exact words, and now he hadn’t just turned himself human, but the entirety of the Lost Light. Fortunately, the effects of Brainstorm’s device were only going to last a day. Unfortunately, the day it took place was Christmas. Now, you not only had a million questions to answer about being human, but you also had to cook a Christmas dinner for everyone because Swerve had given the idea to Rodimus and it had spread like wildfire.

“Okay,” You said, tying back your hair and putting on an apron, mildly anxious now that everyone was looking to you for a Christmas feast. “I’m going to need help in the kitchen, if anyone will volunteer.”

Ultra Magnus nodded. He had just finished making a pamphlet for the bots who were struggling with their humanity. “I shall organise a cooking party,” he said, and with that, he was organising groups of bots who had volunteered into those willing to cook meat and those who weren’t.

Soon, you were left with a group of around thirty volunteers, looking to you for instructions. Among them were Rung, Ten, Swerve, Nautica and Cyclonus. You started by showing the group how to prepare the vegetables, setting off a production line. Rung was very attentive to his carrots, though having more experience on model ships, he was paying far too much attention to detail and was very slow with his work. Upon watching Ten, who was much faster, you decided to partner the two up to make up for Rung’s lack of speed.

Whilst trying to give instructions to some other bots, you found Swerve watching you dreamily, rather than preparing his items. When you went over to him, he blushed and started talking a million miles an hour, soon becoming more of a hindrance than a help, though you humoured him, since it came from a good place.

“You can keep yapping, as long as you get back to work, instead of staring at me,” You winked.

Swerve, feeling suddenly very nervous looked around for something to distract you, although it was too late for you not to have noticed his blatant ogling. “Ugh, I- I- I- FLOUR FIGHT!”

He threw a fistful of flour at your face. You coughed and spluttered, raising a bemused eyebrow once you were okay.

“I-Uh-I-” Swerve babbled, wondering why he hadn’t just got back to work when you had called him out.

“I’ll let that one go, but I’m gonna get you back later,” You deadpanned, smiling only when your back was turned and he couldn’t see you; it would be fun to watch him panic for a while.

You walked on, stopping when you found Nautica stirring an empty pot, whilst watching Brainstorm and Perceptor dreamily. You had a feeling that she had volunteered for the cooking before she realised that they were going to be running various experiments on the now-human crew. You stopped to look at the pair of arguing scientists.

“It is not a contest,” Perceptor sniffed drily.

Brainstorm wrapped an arm around him, “Everything is a contest, Percy. If it wasn’t, existence would be futile. So, you in or not?”

“Most definitely not. I am here to research the human mechanics that you have so hastily created, not compete over who can do the most experiments before the day is up.”

“Ah, classic Percy, that’s the fighting talk I love. We’ll tally the scores at sundown.”

Turning your attention back to Nautica, you knew she wouldn’t abandon the work she had promised to do, even if she didn’t realise that she wasn’t actually doing it.

“You should go with them,” You told her.

“Hm? Me? Oh, no, I couldn’t. I’m supposed to be here,” Nautica smiled bashfully when she realised that she had been stirring the wrong pot and the cocktail sauce was still just a batch of raw ingredients.

“Nautica, you’re supposed to be having a good time. Go nuts, run some experiments. Christmas is all about having fun, after all.”

Nautica chewed her lip, considering it.

You pushed her towards the exit, “Go!”

With that, Nautica gave you a quick hug and ran excitedly out, leaving you to get back to checking on everybody else. On her way out, you saw Megatron standing awkwardly in the doorway. From the disturbed look on his face, it occurred to you that nobody had told him what was going on and he had only just figured it out upon seeing everyone else.

You approached him, “Hey Megatron… It was Brainstorm-”

“So I gathered,” He replied gruffly. “Please can you inform me how long this is to last.”

“Around twenty-four hours.”

“I see. Then I shall remain in my hab-suite until it is over.”

“Wait,” You grabbed his arm. “We’re um, celebrating a human holiday, if you want to join us.”

“Please (Y/N), do not pity me. You know I have no place among my peers during celebrations.”

“Megatron, I will only pity you if you leave. Come on, you should be among your friends, and don’t say you don’t have any ‘cos that is utter rubbish. So, as your friend, I am ordering you to get over to your other friend, Rung and help him with those potatoes.”

Megatron stared at you, dumbfounded. If he didn’t have so much respect for you, he would have left to hide away until this was all over. As it was, he simply nodded and joined Rung, who immediately struck up a friendly conversation.

‘Right,’ You thought to yourself, ready to get back to work until you saw Tailgate hanging out near Cyclonus, about to pop some raw bacon in his mouth.

“NO,” You ran over picking him up. “PUT THE BACON DOWN.”

“WHAT? WHY?” Tailgate whined. “You didn’t yell at Ravage when he stole the eggnog.”

“He did what?” Sure enough, when you looked around, the eggnog was gone without a trace; how Tailgate had seen him take it was beyond you.

“(Y/N), I just wanna taste Cyclonus’ cooking. Pleeeeeease.”

“Tailgate, I get that you’re excited, but Cyclonus is on meat duty, ‘kay. Meat can make humans really, really sick if we eat it raw. I’m just doing this so you don’t get ill. So, I’ll say it again. Put the bacon down.”

“Do as (s)he says,” Cyclonus added, without even looking up from his cooking station.

Huffily, Tailgate put the bacon back onto the counter and you let him go. “If you want everything so perfect, you better check the dessert station,” he huffed.

You were puzzled for a moment, but you decided to do what he said, heading over to the dessert section.

“Oh, come on,” You groaned, upon seeing Rodimus remoulding all the gingerbread men into gingerbread Rodimus stars.

“Hey (Y/N)!” Rodimus grinned, trying to hide his artwork behind his back. You had been far too occupied to notice, but Rodimus had already been kicked out of the kitchen by various other members of the crew no less than seven times for causing havoc wherever he went. Quite frankly, he didn’t want to be kicked out again; it was getting harder and harder to sneak back in.

“Really? You couldn’t leave the gingerbread men alone?”

“(Y/N),” Rodimus put a hand over his heart. “I, for one, am disgusted that you would allow us to take part in an act that encourages cannibalism. I mean, eating fake humans is the first step towards eating real humans, and I will not stand for it.”

“Ugh, where the hell is the dessert team?” You asked frustratedly, looking around for any sane bot.

“Oh, them? Well, they chased after Riptide who stole all those little pastry things to eat. Then when they came back, Rewind and Chromedome had stolen all the chocolate.”

“Why would they do that?”

“They heard something about chocolate being an aphrodisiac, so they took it and went away to canoodle.”

“Then what happened?”

“Then Drift came to try some stuff.”

“Drift, really?” You said, surprise colouring your tone.

“Yeah, don’t tell him I told you, but he has kind of a thing about watching organics eat, so he stole some food to get into his kink state. Anyway, that was when the dessert team abandoned base and went to play twister. By the way, super-fun game. Anyway, that brings us to this point, when I’m your only hope for saving dessert, thus saving Christmas.”

You rubbed the back of your neck tiredly, “Fine… Do whatever the hell you want to the gingerbread. Just make sure to cook it afterwards. I left the instructions on the datapad there.”

“You got it,” Rodimus winked. “This is gonna be the best dessert ever.”

Finally, you were free to get back to work, and with only a few more problems, dinner was served. You and a few others volunteered to take food to those who had decided to quarantine themselves. Your first stop was Whirl’s hab-suite. Quite frankly, you were surprised that Whirl hadn’t come out to make mischief when everything started.

You knocked on his door, “Whirl, sweetie, you in there?”

“GO AWAY, MEATBAG!” He roared from inside.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“I SAID GET LOST. I DON’T WANT TO SEE YOU OR ANYBODY ELSE WHILE I’M LIKE THIS.”

You didn’t really understand what Whirl’s problem was, so you just left the food outside his door, telling him what you had done before leaving. Whirl didn’t go to collect the food. How could he, when he had a problem of this nature? As it turned out, something had gone wrong with Whirl’s transformation, so instead of his usual holoform, he looked entirely different. He was a grown man in a leather jacket, with fairly good looks. The problem was that without his interface panel or his usual feminine form, he couldn’t hide his arousal for you. As such, he had vowed not to come out until everything was back to normal.

Where others were saying Merry Christmas, all Whirl could think was ‘Bah, humbug.’

Like my work? Buy me a coffee and earn preview of the next fic, or commission me on the commissions page.

173 notes · View notes

scintillating-galaxias · 4 years

Text

Love Notes

my first chapter of my fic for thunderrod week! i cant wait to see everyone’s works! :D

Rodimus starts finding a series of love notes outside the door to his hab suite. He's determined to find out who is leaving them behind. (read it here on ao3!)

“And stay off of level seven tonight! Magnus is on duty there, and he’s not gonna be as nice about it if you run into him.”

“Yes, sir! Thanks for the heads up!”

Rodimus huffed fondly as Tailgate sped by him with a cheery wave, the hum of his hoverboard rising and falling as he zoomed around the corner. He made a note to ask Tailgate about where to get his servos on one of those sometime. High speeds, slight peril, and the constant possibility of giving Ultra Magnus a spark attack? What wasn’t to love? It could never replace meteor surfing, but it’d be a suitable substitute until they came across another shower.

He turned to his hab suite door to tap in the passcode when a flash of red caught his eye. The crest of his helm twitched slightly as he plucked it off the frame of his door. It was a note—a real, paper note. It felt strange to have something so flimsy in his servos. He gingerly wiggled a digit underneath the shiny red seal that was keeping the paper folded shut. It popped off smoothly, revealing a single sentence written in offensively neat, bold, black penmanship:

You put the brightest of stars to shame.

Rodimus shuttered his optics once, and then twice, and then a third time for good measure. He brought the note closer to his face, flipped it over a few times, even held it up to the light, before jerking it away to snap his helm up and down the hallway. It was, obviously, completely empty. No one was there shyly peeking around the corner. No one dropped out of the vent to shout ‘surprise!’ at him. He looked back to the note.

“Jeez,” he said. He finished typing in the rest of his passcode and hurried inside his hab suite without looking away. He deftly navigated the drawing irons on the ground he kept vowing to pick up and sat down behind his desk.

You put the brightest of stars to shame.

Rodimus smothered a silly grin and tried to focus. There were so few reasons to write anything when datapads existed, hardly anyone ever actually wrote things down. So unless he wanted to go make over two hundred mechs write down the message until he found a match, guessing on penmanship alone wouldn’t be possible.

There were a dozen other ways he could figure it out—requesting security footage, setting up a twenty-four-hour watch out in the hallway, Pit, just asking around would probably yield some answers. Yet he felt oddly reluctant to do so. True, he was insanely curious about who the sender could be, and it took everything in him not to call Nightbeat right away to tell him about another case. But he also wanted to see things play out on their own. It could be… exciting. Fun, even. The kind of fun he hadn’t had in a long, long time.

(And he wouldn’t complain if he got a few more notes like this.)

He decisively planted his chin on the tops of his servos. If the notes suddenly turned creepy or threatening, then he’d act accordingly. But for now…

.:drift:.

.:driiiiiift:.

.:Yes?:.

.:can you come to my hab suite? there’s something weird i wanna show you:.

.: I’m feeling oddly disinclined given the last ‘weird’ thing you wanted to show me involved your exhaust pipes exploding in my face.:.

.: it’s way weirder:.

.: I’ll there soon.:.

Sure enough, a few faithful moments later, a polite knock sounded at the door. It slid open a second later, and Drift strode in with a curious tilt to his finials.

“What is it?” he asked as he came to a stop before Rodimus’ desk.

Rodimus handed him the note. “Someone left this outside my door,” he said as Drift took the paper from his servos. “I wanna know what you think of it.”

Drift sat down on the edge of his desk as he read the note over. His optics crinkled slightly in an amused smile. “I think someone’s very interested in you,” he said.

“Yeah, no slag, but I wanna figure out who. But like, the old fashioned way.”

“Hmm.” Drift gave the note back to Rodimus. “I can’t think of anyone off of the top of my head.”

“I’m guessing whoever put it there must have gone out of their way to get paper,” Rodimus mused. It made sense. Everything aboard the Lost Light was tech and metal. Any organic materials would likely only be found in the labs for whatever reason the science folks needed them.

“And there’s even a wax seal,” Drift pointed out. “I think it’s a human tradition to seal letters with a wax stamp, but I could be wrong. Either way, whoever it is clearly cares a lot about you.”

“So it’s probably from someone who I’ve already got some kind relationship with. Someone who’s been with me since the beginning of the quest.” Rodimus drummed the tips of his digits across his desk. Then he pulled a datapad from a drawer and pulled up a roster of the mechs on board. After a few swipes, the roster shrank from two-hundred to around forty mechs. “Not Magnus,” Rodimus said after a moment, crossing his name from the list. Drift snorted.

“Definitely not. Besides, I don’t see him being so indirect about it.”

“Or poetic.” The energon drained from Rodimus’ face. “Oh, Primus, you don’t think—?”

“I sincerely doubt Megatron is even persuing a romantic relationship of any kind,” Drift quickly assured. “Even if he were, I don’t think he’d be using love notes to tell you.”

Love notes. Now that was a phrase Rodimus hadn’t heard since he’d graduated from the Academy. It made him feel eons older and younger simultaneously. He grinned. “He’d probably see it as a waste of time. Sucks to be him, love notes are great.”

“How would you know?”

“This isn’t about me.”

“You know, you never did finish telling me that story about you, Two-Step, and the scented—”

“Not about me!” Rodimus hissed as Drift chuckled. He shot him an ineffective glare before swiping another line across the datapad. Then he glanced over at the note again. “Actually, hold on, look. It’s got the Nyon dialect, look, there are the weird swirlies on everything…”

“Oh, you’re right. So they could either be from Nyon—”

“Or they’re trying to impress me.”

“I was going to say they could simply also be very thoughtful, but that’s an option too. I guess.”

Rodimus hummed. “Not Mags, not Megs… Someone who’s been with me since the beginning... Is it you?”

“I’m a married mech, Rodimus.”

Rodimus curled his free servo and swung his forearm in a small damn motion. “Had to try.” Drift rolled his optics and shook his helm as Rodimus crossed his name off with a small tsk.

They continued back and forth like that for a while, slowly whittling down the list from forty to thirty to twenty potential mechs. Even then, barely any of them particularly leaped out at Rodimus as the potential note-sender. The only one that really seemed to match in terms of thoughtfulness and care was Thunderclash. Which had to be wrong, because one, there was no way a mech like him was still single, and two, they barely knew each other. Well. He knew some stuff about Thunderclash, like his favorite drink, and how his laugh filled up a whole room, but that didn’t count.

“It’s getting late,” Drift eventually said. His optics were beginning to dim with exhaustion. “We should pick this up in the morning, though.”

Rodimus glanced down at the time on his datapad in surprise. “Scrap. I have a morning shift tomorrow too. Ugh.”

“Have fun with that.” Drift gracefully pushed himself up and off the desk and made for the door. “Maybe whoever sent it will come forward soon. We’ll just have to wait, I suppose.”

“Guess so.” Rodimus stretched, groaning as struts in his back tensed and released. “Thanks for helping me out.”

“Anytime.” Drift smiled. “Good night.”

“‘Night.”

As the near-silent sound of Drift’s pedes faded away, Rodimus shut off the datapad and picked up the note once again. The berth sank slightly beneath his weight as he sat down on the edge of it, still reading the note.

You put the brightest of stars to shame.

Feeling warm, he placed the note on his nightstand before he reached over and turned out the lights. A pleased smile spread across his face, and did not entirely disappear as he finally slipped into sleep.

#thunderrodweek #thunderrod #rodiclash #fluff #love notes #my writing #maccadam

28 notes · View notes

primergon · 4 years

Text

let me be the portable heater that you'll get cold without, Ratchet / fem!reader

Summary : It was winter, and even without the snow, Jasper has managed to make the nights colder than it should be. You cling onto your second cup of hot chocolate tonight, relinquishing in its warmth. In the midst of Smokescreen's cheering and Arcee's laughter, you shouldn't have noticed Ratchet staring at your arms shivering against the porcelain.

But you did.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning : No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: F/M

Fandoms: Transformers - All Media Types , Transformers: Prime

Relationship: Ratchet (Transformers)/You

IT was Christmas eve. Mariah Carey and Michael Buble have been fighting over the radio station for nearly two hours now, droning out into a series of cheery jingles and tunes that could hardly be heard under all the noise.

Smokescreen was running from Ultra Magnus, who doesn't appreciate the mistletoe the young mech had set up for him. Albeit, when the time came, he had been in deep conversation with Optimus. The Autobot leader was diplomatic as always, urging his second in command to partake in Earth's festivities and out of respect,and had kissed him in the forehead.

You had never seen the stoic mech so speechless, it was only when he came to his sense did he march towards Smokescreen, who had nearly sent himself into stasis out of laughter.

His laughter faded in the distance, replaced by light bickering coming from Arcee and Jack, who couldn't seem to decide on the location of the ornaments. Miko and Bulkhead were both wrapping gifts, although it could hardly be called wrapping from the way they were just sticking tape everywhere.

You smiled at the warmth, telling Raf to be careful as Bumblebee lifted him to the top of the tree. The young boy struggled to put the star in place and you didn't miss the way Ratchet was staring too, eyes wary as his student wobbled above Bumblebee's palms.

" Yip yip yip !" He gruntled, getting up from his place before scooping Raf up for himself. " You must be more careful! You humans seem to forget just how fragile you are."

You let out a good-natured laugh, sipping your chocolate beverage. He gave you a side-glance, before focusing back on the child.

You have to admit, you wished you were on the receiving end of his nagging.

As annoying Ratchet's over-protective nature may seem, you find it lovable. His sarcastic quips and disgruntled complaints were just genuine concerns covertly hidden to avoid any suspicions that he's gone soft.

Therefore, every time he would scold you, you can't help but soak it in. It feels nice to see that he actually cares, in his own unorthodox way.

Ratchet gave you a questioning brow, reminding you that you've been staring.

Shit.

You averted your gaze, cursing to yourself. The last thing you want the medic to know is that you've been catching yourself caring for him - no, it was more than that. You were visibly attracted to the ‘silver fox’ aura he carries with him, his controlling nature just makes you wonder if he was the same day and night.

You nearly choke on the marshmallows, your face burning under the night's chill.

The sweater June had gotten you as a gift wasn't enough to keep the cold out of your skin, although you must admit, it is cute. You had a sinking feeling June had purposely purchased one that matches Ratchet's color scheme, after you let slip that you find his bad-tempered nature endearing - " didn't know you had a thing for grumpy men."

As you leaned against the railing, you fail to notice that Smokescreen was walking towards you. He tapped you lightly on the shoulder, a shrewd grin plastered across his face. He pointed you to look up and when you did, you felt a little dumbfounded, until you saw this little plant hanging between the two of you.

Oh.

You let out a chortle, hiding it behind your sleeves. The rookie was practically bouncing, if he had a tail, it would be wagging. He leaned politely, not enough to be invading your personal space but just enough to tell you what he wants.

You shook your head, Smokescreen had always been drawn to you. His free spirit, courage, and cheerful personality didn't go unnoticed. Yet, if anything you loved the mech like a friend. But, Smokescreen seemed to admire you, in a way you can only call puppy love.

Fitting, you smiled. It was Christmas, Ultra Magnus was slumping behind him in defeat ( a victim of Smokescreen's youthfulness ), the music was obnoxiously cheery and it was the most beautiful time of the year.

So you decided to indulge him, leaning to kiss the mech on the cheek. His door wings fluttered and you couldn't help back a guffaw, the whole team erupting into a chorus of teasing. You patted him on the head, turning back to the Christmas tree.

Ratchet paid the scene no mind, holding Raf as still as he could. The mech simply looked at you, rolling his eyes at your antics.

That tugged a string and your heart tightened, for a fraction of a second you had hoped he would notice. You wondered what he might think, but it seemed you had hoped too soon - Ratchet wouldn't concern himself on who you are, moreover on who you kiss.

Although it is true, that he seems to have enjoyed your company ( you knew when to talk and when to not ) and the way you never seem to get tired of explaining to him all about Earth's customs. ( He even seems to enjoy your little arguments, knowing that they never mean anything but good-natured teasing.)

The idea of him liking you was good as finally convincing Arcee to reverse her colors to pink.

You sighed into your empty cup, refilling it.

It was winter, and even without the snow, Jasper has managed to make the nights colder than it should be. You cling onto your second cup of hot chocolate tonight, relinquishing in its warmth. In the midst of Smokescreen's cheering and Arcee's laughter, you shouldn't have noticed Ratchet staring at your arms shivering against the porcelain.

But you did.

It was late. The radio was now playing in its lowest volume. Optimus, Smokescreen, and Ultra Magnus have gone to investigate a Decepticon signal while the others went to take the children home.

You decided to stay behind, volunteering to clean up the plastic cups and left-over food. Although Optimus had encouraged everyone to clean up after themselves, Christmas is never really Christmas without a little bit of mess.

You were more than happy to help, considering that you had all the time in the world - and you intend to share it with the medic, even if it was in individual silence.

He was busy monitoring the Ground Bridge, leaving you to sweep the floor.

The radio was announcing its last song for the evening, taking their time to chat about the festivities beforehand. All the while the trio reported back to base.

" We've tracked down the signal and secured a few Energon, Ratchet," The chirpy voice called out, " Don't worry about the Ground Bridge, we're going to take the scenic route. Optimus wants to show us more of human Christmas customs, so we're heading to town."

" Copy that," If anything Ratchet seemed - annoyed ? He was muttering incoherently to himself, "Anything else you'd like to report, Smokescreen?"

" Say hi to her for me !" He pipped up and you laughed at Ratchet when he turns to you sharply.

" There's no need, she heard you loud and clear!" He ended the line, his grumbling growing louder as he tapped on the keypads. You frowned at him. It was hard to see him distressed, it was harder to see something bothering him during Christmas!

A familiar tune filled the air, carried by the wind filtering through the open doors. They howled in the distance, the cold seemingly far away from where they stood. You huffed as Ratchet's typing turned more forceful, walking over to the radio. You turned the volume up, letting the static clear before the singer's voice begin to flood the room.

Ratchet looked at you, " What are you doing?"

You were beginning to sway gently, moving across the floor with as much grace as you can muster. You tried to match your pace to the tune, pretending to use the end of the broom as a mic.

Ratchet's confusion began to thaw, leaving way for curiosity. There it is, you grinned, the telltale trait of a medic. He watched you move your shoulders, the swing of your hips, and the tapping of your feet.

" I'm dancing," You gestured, " And I don't want to do it alone."

The Ratchet everyone knew would have rejected the prospect of dancing, with you, out of all people. The old medic should have dismissed you, going back to his work. Yet, there was no work to be done, everyone else was busy except for him.

For the first time in a while, he finds himself devoid of any reason to not dance with you.

He could have made one up, that is, if he didn't want to. But the way his apprehensive look faded to one of interest didn't go unchecked and the way his legs carried him to where you stand seemed to claim otherwise.

You expected him to pick you up, but much to your surprise - and delight, he had utilized his mass displacement. In an instant, he was your size, albeit you only reached his chest, but what matters is that you were able to look at him properly.

" I thought you were against using mass displacement for recreational purposes?" You asked, smugly smiling at him.

He scoffed, " That was when we were low on Energon, Smokescreen, however - has managed to get us some. Unless of course, you'd rather wait for him to come back."

You reached out to him as he pulled away, " What? No ! Ratchet what are you talking about, I asked you didn't I?"

He avoided your gaze, but you weren't having any of it, so you continued to move to the rhythm - letting the slow tune carry you. The music twirled like thread around them, coaxing Ratchet to move in sync.

He gave in, wobbling, " I haven't danced since- " he snorted, " since I was a young mech."

" What better way to improve than to practice?" His eyes widened at the implication that you were open to the idea that this isn't a one-time thing, he seemed to be pleased by it, taking your waist.

You rest your hands loosely around his shoulders, " See, it's not so-"

He stepped on your foot, causing you to yelp.

" Frag !" He muttered, " I'm sorry-"

" That's okay," You reassured, pulling yourself closer, " It's okay."

The music carried a mellow tune, singing a song about confessions, and you feel one coming up right now. The two of you have started to blend with the song, and without noticing you've rested your cheek against his chest.

He didn't push you away.

" I don't-" He started, " I shouldn't be doing this."

" Why not?" You stayed in place, not wanting to raise your head to see his expression. Your heart pounded fiercely against your chest and you hope he couldn't feel it.

" Smokescreen."

That was enough to make you look at him. He had this forlorn look in his face, one of defeat. You pieced the puzzle, watching as his expression shifted from helplessness to hurt.

" Ratchet I don't like Smokescreen," You laughed, leaning closer, " I like you."

His eyes widened for a fraction of a second, but he stepped back in denial. Your name, nothing short of a gasp, as it fell from his lips, " I - I can't. Don't you think you deserve better? Smokescreen is young, bright - surely he complements you better."

His voice sounded so fragile, so unlike the doctor you know - but here, with you in his arms, he was anything but an Autobot at war. They're nothing when you're here, anchoring him to the present.

You shook your head, leaning your forehead against his helm, " No. I know what I want."

He inhaled. You allow him his silence, knowing that he was arguing with his conscience. This won't be easy - you chuckled, is anything ever even easy when it comes to metal titans from outer space?

" Are you sure?"

The music was nearly coming to end, it was pulling its last verse, dragging the tune into a crescendo. You didn't want this moment to end, so you reach out to hover your lips above his, in permission.

When he nodded mutely, you kissed him.

He was warm against you, gentle yet passionate as the grip around your waist tightened. You were now flushed against the mech, with metal hands cupping your cheeks and tugging your hair. It escalated from chaste to somewhere akin to electric, innocence washing away with each tug of his denta.

You, however, needed to breathe. When you pulled away to gasp for a lungful of air, Ratchet had to hide his embarrassment. He supported you as your legs tried to regain some sense of balance, blood rushing past your ears.

" The flushing around your facial area could only mean that both vasoconstriction and thermogenesis have been successfully activated within your system, increasing your capacity to generate warmth."

You furrowed your brows, " Are you saying you knew this would warm me up?"

" You were cold." He stated, glancing at your hands. The gesture touched you, sending another wave of fuzzy warmth throughout your body.

" You noticed." You kissed his cheek, " But don't worry, I don't need that."

You dove back into his chest, nuzzling his neck as you waltz through the final notes.

" Oh? Why is that?" His voice above the shell of your ears was intoxicating enough to send shivers down your spine, they sounded rough - laced with the kind of satisfaction and content only cats have once they've had their cream.

" Because I have you."

That fished a laugh out of him.

The radio crew bid their farewells, wishing everyone a goodnight's sleep to prepare for tomorrow. Their hefty laughter and chatter bounced against the walls, accompanying the pair who continued to dance - even after the music ended.

Bonus :

Ultra Magnus : should we stop them commander? Optimus : No, we should let them. Ultra Magnus : With all due respect sir, we've been waiting by the entrance for two hours now.

A/N : I hope this doesn't seem too OOC, I love Ratchet and his grumpiness, he deserves more love ! <3 Tell me what you guys think below, I take criticism ( just be nice lol im baby)

And yes, this work is inspired by I Wanna be Yours by the Arctic Monkeys

You can find more of my work in AO3 under sirensangel !

AO3 link : let me be the portable heater that you'll get cold without

45 notes · View notes

novaimpactgenerator-blog · 5 years

Text

NSFW Fem!Human Headcanons Request

For ASimpleArchivist on AO3

Request: General NSFW headcanons with Ratchet, Rodimus, Drift, Megatron and Minimus for a fem!human SO pretty please? Maybe with a list of their kinks, too? I love what you have so far and I can't wait to see what you add next!

Before we start I would like to point out that since it was not stated otherwise, the reader and bots below were already in relationships when this stuff happened.

Ratchet:

-The first time he ever saw you naked was for a physical in his hab suite. And boy did he get physical. That was also your first sexual experience with him. Though, there was no penetration due to size difference. That didn't stop you two from having a great time. And Ratchet learned that he really, really likes boobs.

-He implanted a mass displacement generator just to frag you. Though he still likes to be a little bigger than you when you two have sex. He's fascinated by the way your body can stretch to fit around him.

-Would rather overload inside of you so he can see you stretch and overflow with his transfluid.

-Can and will hold off overload for a long time just to watch you writhe under him or struggle when you try to ride him to overload. Doesn't really like to go through more than two overloads himself.

-Loves to fuck your boobs. Would be perfectly fine with you only allowing him to shove his spike between your tits for the rest of his life. "Cybertronians have nothing close to it, so they're new. Not to mention soft like the rest of you."

-Has fucked you in the medibay exactly twice. The first time wasn't planned, but so much fun you two decided to try again. The second time First Aid walked in, screamed, and immediately ran out. (No one has ever brought it up and no one ever will.) You two refused to do that again (much to First Aid's relief).

-(Poor traumatized First Aid)

-He loves to explore your body for new, sensitive places to play with while he thrusts into you or you ride him. If he can't find any after a while he defaults to assaulting your clit and nipples.

-If he's in a patient mood he will stimulate you for close to an hour to see just how wet you can get. If you are a virgin this is how he was for your actual first time. He literally made you cum so many times you cried and begged for his spike.

-Teases you with both his hands and mouth, but his hands are more precise so he uses them the most. Though he was very reluctant to even touch you after the whole Pharma incident.

-You dressed up as a slutty nurse once on a dare. "I'm not sure I got the right injection, Doctor." At first, you thought he was upset because of how quiet and still he was. Then a dark and sexy smirk spread across his faceplates. "Well, we can't have that, now can we?" (That was the first time he fucked you in the medibay.) It's a miracle no one came in or heard that. (And if someone did they spoke of it to no one.)

-He doesn't really like to leave marks on you. The fact that he can't just fix you makes him distraught and nervous. He was taught that most organics were fragile. ESPECIALLY humans.

-Will sometimes use his holomatter form to fuck you. Not very often though.

-He's very quiet but pretty expressive.

-Slow and hard.

-KINKS:

-Size difference

-Slight sadism

-Overstimulation

-Inflation? Inflation.

-Body worship

-Tit fucking

-Exploration??? (Is that a thing)

-Roleplay

-Public sex (for a whole 5 seconds) (thanks a lot First Aid)

Rodimus:

-His first time seeing you naked was because he didn't knock before he let himself into your hab suite. Was frozen on the spot. RODDY.EXE has stopped working. His first time ever seeing a human naked and he wasn't expecting it to be so... fucking hot. "Um... Can you leave?" "Uh huh..." "Now?" "Right."

-Went straight to First Aid after that to get a mass displacement generator. "Mass displacement generator. Now." "Why do you want one so suddenl-" "Won't fit." "... Won't... fit... where???" Rodimus was clearly still out of it.

-He's too impatient for foreplay that lasts longer than ten minutes. But if you're a virgin he tries his best to last as long as he can.

-Can hold off overload for a long time, but chooses not to. (Impatient remember?) Will instantly be hard again after overloading. Could literally fuck for hours. His frame was made for stamina and he doesn't exactly overheat. Has fucked you so many times you cried. Has fucked you so many time you passed out.

-Loves to leave marks. You're his woman, damn it! Everyone needs to know that. He's very possessive. Loves to bite the most. Everywhere. His favorite places to bite are shoulders, neck, hips, and thighs. Has accidentally left scars on your neck and thighs. He felt really bad about that. But he made up for it in kisses.

-Prefers overloading on you rather than in you. Mainly on your face. He really likes to make a mess out of you with his transfluid.

-LOVES to tease you. Mostly with his mouth. Could eat you out all day while self-servicing. You passed out the first day he learned how. Really loves it when you tease him too. His favorite thing is for you to suck his spike while you finger his valve. Drives him insane. Also loves when you trace his transformation seams and use your small hands to find hidden sensitive wires.

-THIGHS! If he isn't fucking your mouth or your pussy, then he's fucking your thighs.

-Has a thing for interfacing with you in places he can get caught. Like his office. Or an empty hallway. Minimus Ambus caught you two doing the latter. Rodimus overloaded instantly. Ultra Magnus arrested the two of you later for public indecency. He didn't learn his lesson. (Megatron walked into Rodimus' office while he was driving you into the desk from behind and quietly walked out. To this day neither of you know that.)

-(Poor traumatized Minimus)

-Will overload twice as fast when you give him compliments. He is a slut for verbal praise. Has begged for it before.

-Enjoys pet play. Both ways. But he prefers to be Master. (It makes him feel like he's in charge of something.) Also loves bondage and pain play. But only if he's receiving. He's too worried he'll hurt you to enjoy it.

-Will fuck you with his holomatter regularly but says it feels better with his real body.

-He is VERY loud (unless his mouth is preoccupied) and VERY expressive.

-Fast and hard.

-KINKS:

-Biting

-Thigh fucking

-Praise

-Overstimulation (Kinda. He just keeps going.)

-Public sex/Exhibitionism

-Marking

-Pet play

-Bondage

-Slight Dom/sub

-Masochism/Pain play

Drift:

-The first time he saw you naked was because he asked if he could touch you without your clothes on. All you two did that night was explore each other's bodies.

-Had a mass displacement generator installed before that. He knew that because of the difference in sizes that any kind of physical intimacy would be difficult without it. He went to Ratchet and explained. "Because I want to be able to be intimate with her, which is kinda hard when I'm three times her size." "I suppose it's better safe than sorry. Lay down."

-The first time you two fucked was VERY passionate. He lost all control. Went at you very fast and very rough with his head thrown back, optics rolled, and glossa out. "H-How could any-y one want hum-mans dead!? Frag! FragfragfragfrAGFRAG!!!" If you were a virgin, don't worry there was lots of foreplay before that so you were more than ready.

-Does enjoy biting you, but usually not very hard. Will occasionally leaving marks if he goes wild. Prefers to keep biting sensual rather than sexual.

-Would rather overload inside of you so he can watch his transfluid spill out of you, but he will often overload on you. If he does overload on you, then it's mainly on your stomach or tits.

-Loves to fondle you. In every sense of the word. Your boobs are the easiest target, (and he really enjoys that) but he will also grope your ass, your thighs, and your hips. The last three he'll subtly do in public if he's bored or just wants to tease you. Though this is the most he'll do in public.

-Is into knife play. But only running it along your skin and never breaking it. He cut you ONCE. He kept all sharp objects away from you for a whole month. The most pressure he'll put on the blade is just enough to leave a red line. His favorite places to tease you with a blade are your boobs, shoulders, hips, and thighs. If he really gets into it, he'll go over your neck, forearms, stomach, and the front of your groin.

-Is super into foreplay. Could go at you slowly for hours. His favorite kind of foreplay is just kissing, groping, and rubbing himself on you slowly. He will not allow you to cum until the main event though.

-Actually fucking you is MUCH different. He wants there to be satisfaction. Unbelievable amounts of satisfaction. And he wants it now.

-Is very careful when fraging you. He killed organics when he was Deadlock and knows how easy it would be to hurt you.

-You got angry with him once and insulted him (you can't remember what you said, but you do know it was something small). You thought it was odd that his face went from mad to nervous as it turned pink. As it turns out, he likes to be called names. Especially being called a slut while you tease his valve.

-Loves eating you out. Mainly when he's full size. He likes stretching you out with his tongue. You make the cutest faces and sounds.

-Doesn't like to interface with his holomatter. Says that it doesn't feel real. Something about his aura.

-He's not quiet, but he's not loud either. Very Expressive.

-Fast and soft

-KINKS:

-Knife play

-Masochism/Negging

-Orgasm denial

-Oral

-Body worship

-Teasing/Foreplay

-Biting

-Marking

Megatron:

-The first time he saw you naked was after you two talked about it for a while (two whole months). "You're... beautiful... I can't believe I ever wanted to eradicate organics."

-He already had a mass displacement generator, but even with it he's still a pretty big boy.

-Found out that he does, in fact, like the difference in size. You're so wet after foreplay that you stretch so nicely around his spike. He secretly loves that clearly see the outline of his spike while he's buried deep inside of you.

-Boobs are nice. Very nice. He can do so many things with boobs. Though he wasn't exactly sure what they were at first or what to do with them. But don't worry he's a fast learner. Very fast.

-He is very careful when interfacing with you. He's destroyed and helped destroy entire civilizations of organics. He wants to leave that life behind and would rather die before harming you. If you were a virgin he was extra careful and extra touchy.

-Could kiss you all night long. He has. You both intended to have sex but just fell asleep cuddling after making out for an hour.

-The most he'll do in public is frag you in his office. Mainly because he knows that no one besides Minimus/Magnus, Rodimus, or Ravage would come in unless the ship was on fire and he was the last one they could go to for help. But he always locks the doors so there no chance of being walked in on.

-On that note! Ravage. He was peacefully sleeping in Megatron's office with his stealth protocols on when you two casually walked in and started going at it. 'I don't wanna see this. I don't want to see thi-!' LOCKED. "Let me oooOOOOUUUUUT!!!"

-(Poor traumatized Ravage.)

-Likes to be restrained in the berth. It reassures him that he can't hurt you and it's kinda exciting. He was never been okay with being the one bound up before. Will occasionally like to try new things like this, but he still thinks he's too old to do some of the things he's heard Rodimus likes.

-Loves to be praised. His favorite is when you call him a good person. He also likes your more teasing and dominant side when you praise him. "You're such a good Autobot, Megs."

-Loves overloading inside of you. Seeing you swell and stretch with his transfluid is the best. Though he's careful not to hurt you.

-Doesn't like to mark you. While it would please his possessive side immensely, it just reminds him how fragile you are.

-Does NOT like to use his holomatter form. It's so unnatural and unusual to him that he can't enjoy it at all.

-Mostly quiet and moderately expressive

-Slow and soft

-KINKS:

-Size difference

-Inflation

-Bondage

-Oral/Kissing

-Office sex

-Praise

-Mock praise

Minimus:

-The first time he saw you naked was because you got tired of waiting for him to ask, so you changed in front of him. "W-Wait! What a-are yo-... Primus..." "Something the matter, Minimus?" "No... Not at all." He really likes your body but is shy about touching you most of the time.

-He doesn't need a mass displacement generator because in his true form he's only a few feet taller than you.

-Prefers to be sensual over sexual. Would be fine with just lovingly caressing each other all night. Though he is nowhere near with being against more.

-He hadn't exactly interfaced very many times before he met you, (you were actually his first, but his seals were medically removed for the Magnus armor and he's been alive for over 5 million years. There's no way in hell he's telling anyone that he was a virgin all this time. The crew barely respects him as it is) so your first time together was slow and you rode him. Perfect for if you were a virgin (too).

-He does like the fact that he's taller than you given how rare that is for him. He also likes that he can see the outline of his spike when he thrusts into you. He sometimes puts his hand over your abdomen so he can fell it slide in and out of you. It makes him overload a lot quicker.

-He isn't used to interface and rarely self-serviced so he's EXTREMELY sensitive. It doesn't take very much at all to pleasure him. And he can't exactly hold back his sounds or expressions. Not to mention having sex with him is more like instinctual humping than actual thrusting. Almost 95% of the time when you aren't riding him he'll just wrap his arm around your waist and go to town on you while burying his faceplates in your boobs.

-Primus, your mouth. It feels almost as good as your pussy to him. Almost overloaded instantly when first you wrapped your lips around his spike and sucked. That was one of the best overloads of his entire life.

-He will sometimes tie your hands behind your back, but overall nothing too kinky.

-The most public thing he's ever done was when you blew him in his office. He didn't understand why you were crawling under his desk until you started licking at his interface panels. "What are you doing down thER-!? W-Wait! Not h-hERE!" At first, he tried to pull back, but when you grabbed his thighs and started tracing his interface seams his panels popped open on their own. When you instantly latched onto him all he could process was the pleasure. That was the most embarrassing overload of his life.

-Likes it when you play with his valve, but will instantly overload if you even touch his spike while you're doing that. It's too much stimulating for him.

-Loves loves LOVES praise. He's hardly gotten any in his life so it feels great when he hears it from you in that loving and sincere voice.

-Can't physically hold out and can't go for more than two rounds. (Forgive him, he's trying his best.)

-He has zero experience with interface so he can't pull out at all. Besides, it feels more natural to overload inside of you, and he doesn't see the appeal of making a mess of you.

-Using his holomatter is just... No. That was his friend. A really good friend too. No.

-Surprisingly loud and expressive

-Fast and soft

-KINKS:

-Size difference

-PRAISE

-Oral

-Slight bondage

-(He's a simple mech.)

#xreader #fem!reader #humanreader #mtmte ratchet #ratchet #mtmte rodimus #rodimus #mtmte drift #drift #mtmte megatron #megatron #mtmte minimus ambus #minimus ambus #valveplug

178 notes · View notes

insecwrites · 6 years

Text

TFP Knock Out/ TFP Ultra Magnus Part 3

Fandom: Transformers Prime Pairing: Ultra Magnus/ Knock Out Tags: nsfw-ish, discussion of interface, perceived abuse of power, misunderstandings, post-war, sexual favors Summary: Knock Out does not feel safe. Vehicons and Autobots alike view him as a traitor or an untrustworthy mech, and there is nobody that Knock Out can go to for protection. The Autobots don’t work with favors and bribes after all.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Ultra Magnus, apparently, was even more difficult to read than Knock Out had expected.

For what felt like the thousandth time he stared at the file that Ultra Magnus had sent him during their second lunch. Just as asked, Magnus had provided an in-depth list on his expectations and his absolute no-no’s. That was within expectations. The things ON the list, however, were not at all what Knock Out had been expecting. From the way Ultra Magnus had reacted to the word ‘date’, he had assumed that the mech had been in it for the interface alone. And he mayyy have thought that that enthusiasm to invite him had stemmed from some… ahem. Unconventional tastes.

Instead, Ultra Magnus was almost shockingly uninteresting. The first thing he had listed as a ‘like’ was ‘prolonged post-interface contact if at all possible’. Cuddling, in other words. The second and third had been much the same, along the lines of wanting foreplay and the use of exclusively encouraging and kind words. In all honesty, it read like world’s most bland and bizarrely written romance. There was an entire section on potential massages, together with little boxes of Knock Out to tick if he wanted to receive and give, and if he did which places were off limits.

He had created a whole new section called ‘miscellaneous questions’, which looked more like an in-depth interrogation written by a mech who was planning a romantic outing for a formal acquaintance.

Under ‘favourite poses’, Magnus had tentatively notted down the descriptions of a few. Not their names, just dry, awkward descriptions – Knock Out was starting to doubt if the mech even knew that there were names for interface positions. They weren’t particularly interesting positions either. No precarious balancing, no cables stretched to their limit, no binds or cuffs. Just… lying on top of one another with some hip movement. The kind of stuff you could just get from any random mech in a bar. …Then again, Magnus would probably not enter a bar unless the law demanded it of him.

Knock Out frowned at the list and tapped his fingers on his thigh. There was a trap in here somewhere. Something he wasn’t seeing. It couldn’t be this easy, could it? Magnus was a control freak and a dominant mech that wanted things done his way, and to only propose soft uninteresting stuff like this was just downright suspicious. Even for a mech with as much power as him, he wouldn’t go this far just for some cuddles and slow ‘facing… Right?

Knock Out dropped the datapad on the table in front of him and let himself fall back into his seat. Magnus just didn’t seem like the kind of mech that would jeapordize his standing and credibility for something this simple. Of course, Knock Out had nothing to gain by blabbing, but it was still such a risk to take! Why not ask for something a little more complex or rare?

Knock Out rolled his head back and stared up at the ceiling of his habsuite.

Could it be that Ultra Magnus was just that lonely? That he was that averse to socialising and putting in the effort of getting to know someone? Even at his most relaxed, he had been acting like a soldier under the watchful eye of his commander, so it wasn’t a stretch to think that he was just incapable of normal social interaction and wanted to get his frags through less complicated means. … Then again, if he was not interested in anything but the ‘facing, then why had he enthusiastically engaged Knock Out in a conversation about poetry? Why was his list full of fluffy soft stuff!?

He sighed and checked his chronometer. It was well beyond his usual recharge time He was not going to be able to figure out Magnus’ motive by thinking about it all night cycle, and he wasn’t going to ask the mech about it either, but it was just so hard to let the subject rest! He turned the datapad face down and dropped a polishing cloth on top of it. He had to stop thinking about this. If the answer was going to drop out of the sky it would have done so already.

He walked over to his berth, offlined the lights, got comfortable, closed his optics, and waited for his recharge procotols to get going. Tomorrow in the night cycle would be their first ‘date’. Knock Out had filed for a few hours off duty to polish up and prepare himself for Magnus. It felt odd to think about their impending interface. Knock Out had never been shy of sharing himself with the world and enjoying all that it had to offer him, but that had been before Breakdown. He’d seen and touched every shade of paintjob out there – but he only remembered blue. He’d thought that he might run out of new interesting spicy things to try in berth, only to find that anything was good as long as he did it with Breakdown.

…Had he really not interfaced with anyone but Breakdown since he’d met him?

Knock Out wasn’t sure how interface would feel now that Breakdown wasn’t going to be his partner. It should matter too much - he wasn’t in Magnus’ berth for fun after all – but he needed to be at least riled up enough to go at it. Well, if the worst came to the worst… Ultra Magnus was blue and Knock Out was good at pretending. It would work out. He’d make sure of it.

Ultra Magnus had been doing well. In between the drafting of the contract between him and Knock Out, and the endless heaps of paperwork that always ended up on his desk, he hadn’t had the time to get worried or anxious. Now that their first true evening date was approaching, Magnus found that his mind was making time for worrying and anxiety, no matter how much he tried to lose himself in paperwork and routine check-ups.

From what he had been able to gather about successful relationships, mutual attraction was important – and interface was closely tied to that. Many of the booklets and pre-war articles he’d been able to find had called it the ‘glue’ of a relationship, implying that it was the only thing that held all of it together. Ultra Magnus did not exactly agree, but he knew his views were unconventional. The mecha that had proposed a relationship with him had certainly acted along the lines of these articles – when Magnus had said no to physical attraction and interfacing, they had quietly pulled out of his life.

He hadn’t suspected this would be a problem with Knock Out. With the clear and direct manner in which they had been interacting until now, it hadn’t crossed his mind that Knock Out could find his preferences… well. Boring.

Ultra Magnus had always had a low interface drive. The flames of passion that could sometimes consume mecha near completely, were more like cinders to him. On occasion they would burn red and orange as his optics caught a beautiful frame or as his olfactory sensors scented them on a breeze. More often than not, the coals would lose their colour near immediately and fall back into slumber. He was sure that he would be capable of pleasing his partner – but not if it required him to dip deeper into the world of … what was it called. Kink?

The things Knock Out had listed as no-go’s were things that Ultra Magnus had barely even known existed – let alone try them out for himself. He had had to look up what ‘Axlegrinding’ was, only to then lose a significant amount of time trying to understand why anyone would engage in that activity. That Knock Out knew of them spoke of far more experience in the way of interfacing, and Ultra Magnus had simply not considered that such experience might make common interface practises bland or uninteresting.

He had only really begun to consider that when he had given Knock Out his side of the contract. Knock Out’s reaction had been nothing short of bizarre – he had gone from calm and smooth to a more distracted state, and while Magnus had asked if anything was wrong, he had given a negatory answer.

Now, Ultra Magnus was forced to confront the fact that he was in fact more engaged in the success of this date than he had thought. The thought of failing Knock Out badly enough that the mech would put an end to their mutual courtship was unpleasant.

Knock Out had diverse opinions on a variety of topics which could fill at least a vorn’s worth of lunchtimes with engaging discussions, and he was more than fine with silence as well. Or, well, if silence fell for too long, Knock Out would simply fill the empty space with idle obervations and a recollection of that day’s duties. Especially the recollections of his day were much like reading reports, and without the task of spell checking and filing it was incredibly relaxing to listen to. In short; Knock Out was great company, and Ultra Magnus feared to lose him as he had his previous friends.

He would simply have to do his best to make their first night-date a good one.

Determinedly Ultra Magnus accessed his schedule and began replanning his next workcycle. He had saved up many free hours during his service and he was going to use them as effectively as he could; making sure that his date with Knock Out would go off without a hitch.

This chapter is a little shorter than the others, I feel, and also maybe a little less fun. Then again, some things needed to be said - or in this case, they needed to be thought ;) For anyone who is interested - I run a small tf discord. Maybe I’ll see you there? https://discord.gg/gRJw2wJ

#insecwrites #transformers fanfic #knock out/ultra magnus #tfp ultra magnus #maccadam #nsfw-ish #fic

30 notes · View notes