#secretly married idiots but eveyone doesnt know and just thinks thwyre pining for each other | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ikkosu · 2 months

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idk if I should make this au a series but here you go <3 (au explanation in the tags bc I don't want to spoil)

mouse-verse IMPASSIVITY is at an all time high. Prowl struggles to ignore the nudge against his ribs. A locked jaw, optics for slits are the best he's got under pressure. Even, better — bared dentas to deter trouble.

But there's something about Bumblebee — that punk is trying his patience, unfazed by the enforcer's abrasive demeanor. He's pushing it. Pushing it hard. Without even a glance, he's sure as Primus's aft a chesire grin is leeching from that face.

"And, what's the status?" His audials picked up on Optimus's voice, a blur of red and blue not too far in the laboratory from where he stood. Prowl straightens. Ah, professional. Be professional. He can't be seen behaving inappropriately.

Then, he hears your voice and loosens visibly.

"Neutral, sir. For now, at least. It'll come round eventually. But I'll try to stabilize it."

Prowl shifts, almost imperceptibly, on his pedes. The scout is now focused on a bubbling flask. A digit out, prodding the capped casing. Phosphorus, Prowl recognizes. Vanilla crystals blossomed at the bottom and explosively so. But he bites back a chastise — if the yellow bug is broken out of his curious stance, Prowl might not be able to grasp this chance to, well, have a look.

So, he tilts his helm and lets his optics skim, much the same as he does when he's scheming — a search for your figure amidst all the beams and laboratory apparatus of the room is discreet.

It was organized, clean. You fixed your workspace often. Adored organizing your paperwork in neat little bundles. He discerned some stacks under your desk with those pastel straps you always hoard from the nearest stationary shops.

That is the decorum, the attitude of a proper soldier. It is what he'd like to see in everyone's workstation. Clean and logically organized.

Once his optics caught your eyes, he swivels away. His doorwings piked up, much to his chagrin. A side periphery of a smile curling your mouth didn't help the flare of warmth prickling the back of his neck , running all the way up to his forehead. His frown becomes all the more apparent.

And, of course bumblebee notices.

"Can it." He grits out before he could say anything else.

Bumblebee just shrugs but the slag-eating grin is still there. "Didn't say I warned ya, buddy."

"Don't call me buddy." He says coldly. " I am not your buddy. I am your commanding officer and you will refer to me properly as such."

"Eugh, leave it for Ironhide to decide. I'm not here on a debate for ranks."He elbows his rib plates with a wag of his brows. "What I'm here for, though...." He trails off, and shimmies a crab dance to block his view.

Prowl grimaces and retaliates by looking above the horns of his head. "Enough. You're making a fool out of yourself." He bares out.

"Oooh. Someone's quite the looker, huh."

"And, you're about to gain a look of a lifetime, through physical means."

"Prowl suggested I seek your advice."

Both bots stiffen at the sound of pedes approaching. The Prime has his servos folded behind his back, hunching, and tilting his helm so he could regard your face. You trotted beside him, a hand shoved into the pocket of your labcoat and the other swiveling a pen.

"Oh, did he?" You stop before the enforcer.

The fat of your cheeks pulled into a smile.

"I did." Prowl clips. "You specialise in force fields — an expertise greatly suitable for that area of predicament."

Bumblebee adds "A great suitor for the other— hrrk!"

Prowl shoves an elbow against his ribs. The yellow bugs keels over, wheezing. Optimus raises an eyebrow. What he thinks of it is left unsaid as he turns to you.

"This won't be too demanding of me?"

"No, not at all." You wave placatingly. "I'm busy but this isn't' something of a problem I can't handle. I'll have the blueprints by dawn."

The Prime pats your shoulder, optics gentle as he heads for the sliding doors. "Have a good evening, mouse."

"You too, sir."

"And, you t—"

Prowl shoves the yellow bug outside, locking the laboratory pad with a few quick punch of his digits for good measure. When he's sure the two silhouettes are gone, he vents through clenched teeth and tries to conceal his irritation. Though, proven futile with how his doorwings twitch.

He's had enough, for today.

"Bothersome?" You mused.

"A work in paradise."

He swivels around and despite the smooth mask he's locked in, almost jumps at your close proximity.You're standing there, chin tilted up — he's already faltering, surprise shown through a quick flick of his doorwings.

"And, you say I'm not so discreet." You make a show of teetering on your toes.

He rolls his optics but complies nonetheless, lowering his helm but not his shoulders. He won't make it easy. No, not too low or you'll get a pass — he wants you to beg for it.

"Terrible." He chuffs. "Of all the soldiers I've assessed, you mouse, are the worst at discretion. Impulsivity seems to be a close friend, for you."

"But what does that make you, then?" Your lips, soft and pliable, are inches away from his chin.

He resist lowering his helm any further. But much to his dismay, Prowl slants his helm, counteracting his locked coding of not caving in.

"Reckless." He breathes out. "Worse than when Smokescreen toddled away with illicit high-grade."

A loose giggle bubbles from your lips, a sweet sound he shamelessly saved in his processors. Though, iritation paints his features when he recognizes the signs. You're deliberately stalling. Deliberately ignoring his advances. He bares his teeth, exasperated at the fact he has to spell it out.

"Kiss me."

"Oh?" You tilt away, a coy playful grin. "Why would I do that, officer when discretion is at play here?"

"Because we're behind closed doors. Because if you dont, you're disobeying a direct command from your superior. And because —" Agitation pulls at his face and digits pinched your chin, pulling you close."— i've missed you."

It's not often he's affectionate. You're always the one pulling the trigger first — but when he does it, you find it oddly endearing of how desperately he wants it.

"Kiss me." He says again.

And, that was enough for you to close the distance. Hands on his shoulder plates as you lean up to catch his lips. Instantly, he melts into your touch, servos gripping your waist.

#secretly married idiots but eveyone doesnt know and just thinks thwyre pining for each other #and every argument is everyone thinking theyre having an enemies to lovers kind of shtick but theyre actually already married #arguing about domestic shit #transformers #maccadam #transformers x reader #transformers idw #prowl x reader #idw prowl #prowl keeping it secret bc he knows everyone will go WHY HIM when its out #prowl #prowl idw #prowl transformers

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