#transformers-x-reader
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the girl (7)
chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6)
I made a post before this on. talking about the discord server that i have made. Since no one seen it or cared enough. I going to talk about it here. I was thinking my character was over powered in this chapter. so I made a post and was saying how I posted chapter 7 there and wanted some feedback. I posted on July 15th. a good 5 days before this one. So I left the chapter the way it is.
So if you want to join the discord comment: the robot you like. I will send you the link for the story
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I went back to my bag and began to dig. After I found my Nokia 1011 phone, a car door open sound filled the car.
“Good hold this.”
I handed him my phone and continued digging. When I felt the plastic case. I yank it out. so, I can grab the leopard glass and a security bandage with the four diamonds likes symbol. The same diamond as my pencil case. I was beginning to put on the glasses
“Sliver what you are doing.”
“don’t worry about it.”
“Why you are complaining, she looks good.”
“I will tell you this since it won’t go against Kris promise. when you see the things, I seen. You learn how to make your paths easier. I can't tell you anymore than that.”
I saw a yellow beam when, we were beginning to drive. it must have been that energy surge. Arcee was talking about. Grabbing my phone from Noah.
“Noah please hold this,” I traded Noah the phone for the badge after I toss my bag in the back.
“I must make a phone call. Mirage, please take control so I can concentrate.”
I quickly dial a number that I know by heart. The ringers didn’t even go to the second ring when he picked up.
“YOU BETTER EXPLAIN WHATS GOING ON!!!”
I pulled the phone away from my ear when he began to screaming. mirage was laughing for some reason and begin to say drama and sing song like voice.
“k plea- “
“NO EXCUSES. WE ARE RECIVCEING A MASSIVE ENERGY NEAR YOUR LOCATION. I KNOW FOR FACT THAT YOU HAVE A HAND IN THIS. SO, YOU BETTER START TALKING.”
I heard another one of mirages smart ass remarks. It was the ‘uh oh someone is in trouble.’
“K I don’t know what’s going myself.” I lied.
“I know your lying.”
“Dam it!” I said in frustration. “I will explain the best I can later. We got at least 15 minutes until I arrive and cause mayhem.”
“Not until I get at least something.” k can be very stubborn when it comes to someone he cares about. There only one sentence I know that can make just go along with whatever I say.
“I am trying to help a family get home.”
“Wait like human home or us home.”
“Us. this is there only way right now.”
“Wait until I get there.”
“There is no time. I need you on that computer that’s 2 ft to your left.” I heard him growl, but he I hear a chair roll.
“Fine. I want a story when its safe.”
“I promise. I need you. get to Ac and Sc files and find anyone that would still be there.”
Are ten minutes from arriving the campus
“You mean the ones still on campus?”
“You got it. get T. and V. to help. I need you to make them leave.”
“All right got all 900 people. Starting to send messages. Hey t and v get to your computers and start typing. Boss says so.”
I heard some shuffling in the back.
“Good, have them say there loved one is in hospital or Their place is on fire. if you need to get someone to pull the fire alarm. Get someone to pull the fire alarm. Anything to get them to leave. Hell, if need used the symbol on anyone who there I don’t care just get them gone.”
“Okay. the messages are starting to send, is there anything else?”
“Is Jason v. Armstrong. working at all tonight?”
“You are right, he should be at the security booth.”
“Call him and get him to let-
I looked at the badge Noah was holding
“Sarah J. Kelly though.”
I leaned back in the driver seat. acting like I was driving once again.
“Okay I will call him after. it won’t be any problem.”
We were down to 5 minutes
“Do you want me to see Cam to hack the security cameras.”
“Good call. Give it an hour before they come back up.”
I hear more shuffling in the back.
“T. said that he can't get a hold of Elena Wallace. She will be in the college. The same place that energy spike is at.”
“Alright If I see, I will do what I can. Keep trying to reach her.”
“k I hear talking in the background. speak to me.”
“Got it I will call after.”
“You better women or so help me, I will drag you back by the skin of my teeth if I must. You will have stuck her until we are old grey.”
“I know you will. Friends forever.”
“We never surrender.”
I hang up and tosses the phone next to my bag.
“You, young lady is amazing.” Said mirage.
“Sliver what was that?”
“My way in making sure no one gets hurt friends.”
No other questions were asked. We began to pull up to the security booth and as soon as I showed him the badge. He didn’t look twice. He opened the gate and began to pack up around his desk. we just roll in like we own the place. Once he stopped in a random parking spot. I jump out began walking to the doors.
“Sliver wait.” He was a good few steps behind me. I pushed the door open and began going up.”
“Sliver, wait I want to talk.” Noah grabs my hand. pulling me to a stop. “Please at least explain how you did all that.”
“I can't tell you that. if I do, you will be drag into something that is far too dangerous even for me. I promised your brother I will keep you safe and keeping my mouth shut is a must, then so be it.”
“Then why help them.”
“I will tell you what, I told Optimus. I know what it’s like trying to get home.”
I began to run up the stair. Just trying to outrun him so he doesn’t go farther down the rabbit hole Like Alice did with the white rabbit. I am trying to my promise. I will not drag you into the life I have. once I saw the door. I busted it open without a second thought.
When I was in the same daydream land again.
I was in a middle of a forest. the same forest that Apeling was in. the same surface of grass and tree like statues around me.
“how did I get here?”
Really how did I go from opening a door inside a building on earth to a planet I only saw once. I heard movement to my right. when looking at the sound there was a dull orange blob coming at me. the closer it came the more it began to take shape. It was a Cheetah, but not the ones on earth. This one was larger than the ones on earth. They had more of an orange coat, then its classic yellow. Also, Its eyes where a very bright green. Aren’t cheetahs supposed to have yellow eyes?
what really caught my attention was where he was heading. Right for me. I went into fetal position. I don’t know why I did that, but I did. I was never flattening like a pancake. I felt a chill in my spine. The feeling I had with Apeling. I became a full human when I saw the cat was becoming a wobbly blob again.
I felt a breeze pass me; a grey rhino was following the cat.its seems like no one is noticing me.i might not be able to get hurt in this dream like land. Wait, am I a ghost. My thoughts where interrupt when the sound of rustling trees filled my ears. I look up and saw Apeling, but it wasn’t really Apeling. The ape looked a lot smaller and more childish. Then a bird was following closely behind the primate. The birdie looked like a raven but completely metal and with a beautiful tint of blue.
A “I can do this.” Sound was coming from where the other animals where coming form
Was coming behind me. a very dark navy-blue blob was coming closer and closer. She had an outline of a wolf. The navy coat had a dot of yellow dots, mad her fur look like a night sky, with little stars at night. there was a fire is in her eyes. Nothing was going to stop her. the more she said the line the faster she was becoming. the walking night sky was passing each animal one by one. the more living beings she passed the more confident she gotten. Before anyone knows it, she was in second place. The dog and cat were neck to neck. Both determine to not let the other pass.
“Come on Midnight. You can't pass me. so, stop while you can.
“I not giving up that easily.” The finished line was feet in front their face was nearby.
While the cheetah kept trying to decrease the dog confidence. Mr. Kitty Cat didn’t notice the little pebble in the path. didn’t notice a little pebble. With him focusing on the wolf. His paw stumble on It. the stumble gave the wolf a better chance to jump ahead. Giving midnight the win. She was holding the stick in her mouth. Once she dropped it.
“Who the fastest now?”
“I let you win.”
“Keep telling yourself that.” While the canine was rubbing the win in the cheetah face. The others came through. Rhino was 3rd. bird was 4th and the ape was 5th.
“See sis, I told you can do it.” said the rhino.
“You were right Rhinox. I had to just believe in myself.”
“I let her win.” Said the cheetah.
“Keep telling yourself that.” said the bird.
“As much as this was fun, me and Star have to go.” said the ape.
While both party wave goodbye to each other. I stayed with the other 3.
“I did let her win; I just didn’t want to see her cry.”
“I appreciate your concern for my sister, but everyone say you stumble.”
“I didn’t stumble.” said the frustrated cheetah. When no one was going to believe his lies. he spit out ‘I going to hang with rattrap.’ Then began to run again.
When the last two left saw the orange furball was far enough. The bird saw her opportunity.
“Rhinox, can I ask you are personal question?”
“Go ahead Air-razor.”
“How do you feel about their feelings for your sister?”
“it’s complicated. As a big brother, they both don’t deserve her. she can do so much better than those two. But as their friend I have seen them grow over the years. They aren’t full mature, but they are better then Tigerhawk and Inferno. I learned I can't choose who she likes but if she is happy. That all that matters.”
After he finished his sentence. Everything was twisted. It twisted into a new scene. I was back with Midnight and the little ape.”
“So, what do you think Apeling wants to tell us.” midnight asked
“Something about a key.”
“Why would we need to know?”
“I don’t know. we might want to know everything we can right now before we become leaders.”
“You mean you will be.”
“We both have the chance.”
“No, you are Optimus Primal. You are the best person to lead. You lead all the group actives.”
“you are right about that, but you are the one that has all the ideas. I do apprentice the confidence boost, but don’t put yourself down.”
“I’m ju- “
Before they could continue their conversation. They walk into a cave. Where the real Apeling was standing. He was staring over the land. Kind of like Simba and Mufasa in lion king. When Mufasa says ‘everything that touches the light is your’ scene.
“Hello young ones.”
“Hello.” The little ones say.
“Today lesson is going to be special one.”
“Is it about the key?” ask Optimus.
“You are right. the key also comes with a legend. That precedes the dawn of our civilization. there is a vile god so large and so powerful, he has to consumed entire planets for fuel. That god is name Unicron.”
“isn’t that myth. We don’t need to worry about this god.” Said the Primal.
“It Could be a myth, but we aren’t for sure. It could be real for all we know.” said the wolf.
“Star is right. if he is real, he will be after this.” Apeling gotten up and walked inside the cave. Around a pedestal with a floating diamond thing. “If Unicron gets his hands on transwarp key. there is no way to stop him. “
“What is a trans-swap key?”
“Transwarp key. have been among our kind for generations. it allows us to go from universe to another.”
“So, if Unicron gets a hold of the key. he could open a portal. To eat other worlds?” Ask Optimus.
“Yes. There will be nothing in his way.”
“But isn’t there a way.”
“What do you mean.”
“In the records before the great war. They were saying something about a sister.”
“You mean brother and yes. Him and his twin brother (Primus) would fight for centuries. Unicron himself wanted to consume the universe. Getting rid of the good. So, there is nothing left but a void of torment. Primus had other ideas; he saw that there was good in freedom. He fought his brother time and time again. trying to keep the balance to the two sides. The legend says that Primus defeated Unicron each time. he was toss in a void to never be seen again. Said Apeling.
“Shouldn’t Primus have this instead of us.”
“That is a mystery that could not be solve.”
“Why is that?” Primal finally spoke up.
“We lost contact with Cybertron eons ago. with time information gets lost. Data pads get lost or destroy. without proof, all we know is that Primus and Unicron are myth.”
“That’s why they are myths? Ask Midnight .
“Yes. That is why if there even is a chance that Unicron is real. We need to guard the key from him and whoever is under his command.” Said Apeling.
“We promise to protect the key with our lives.” Said Both or the younger Maximal.
That when the vision started to change back to the museum room. rubbing my eyes trying to get eye site back. I was facing the window that lead outside for some reason. I heard chatter in the back. a girl voice said something about stealing museum property. I couldn’t fully make out the conversation. Once my vision was clear and I can see everthign like before. I saw three bots. The other 2 where unknown but when my eyes landed on the centered being. was Scrouge. Same one form Apeling vision. Nothing about seeing him said safe. I saw his hand turn into a canon, that’s when I knew we were in trouble. Seeing that it was powering up and aiming at us I turn.
“Elena and Noah get down.”
#tf rotb#tf x reader#transformers#transformers x reader#beast wars#optimus#transformers-x-reader#fanfiction#unicron#mirage rotb#tf mirage#mirage x reader#mirage#optimus x reader#optimus prime#optimus prime x reader#cheetor#rhinox#optimus primal#wheeljack#transformers rise of the beasts#rise of the beasts#autobots#bumblebee
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you wear katsuki’s clothes to bed.
among all your cotton and silk pajamas, you prefer the thinning fabric of his faded tees. there are holes in some of them, just a few more seams away from their undoing as they fit far too large on you—but that’s why you love them.
they’re comfy and worn; lived in with love from the man that you love. when katsuki is gone for days or weeks at a time, you find his warmth intertwined within the threads of his t-shirts. when the fabric presses against your back, the bed doesn’t feel nearly as empty as it is.
(though it can never replace him. nothing can, you fear.)
“hoggin’ all my shirts,” he tuts, but you know it means nothing. the roll of white fabric is neatly folded unto itself, its crisp corners unfurling once handed over.
you giggle, shaking off its folds and fitting the hem right over your head. from the corner of your eye, you see katsuki’s gaze, watching you wrangle the fabric over you as the towel wrapped around your body slowly drops to the floor.
he turns away then, a little too quickly, a little too abruptly. if you look at him now, you’re sure you’ll find flushed cheeks and crimson eyes burning in shame for wanting you so inopportunely.
“guess you’ll just have to take me with it then.”
#bakugo x reader#shotorus.bubble#bakugo katsuki x reader#katsuki x reader#bnha x reader#WAAAHDJENDJDN#i think he gets a lil bit flustered seeing u in his clothes 😋#and he feels so embarrassed just watChing u dress and undress#it eases up over time but his cheeks dont lie!!!!!! they flush red everytime!!!!!!#the look of shame transforms into unabashed want over the years but#the feeling is the same 🥹 bubbles or butterflies or whatever the hell it is swirling in his belly#seeing you in something that’s his#especially smth he’s had for yeaaaars 🥺 clothes that have grown up w him 🥺🥺 it makes him feel a little bit like#youre the gift he gets at the end of it all 🥺#like this is the life he has now even tho he was who he was before#and idk !!! it flips something in him !!!#bc it feels a lot like youre proud of being his 🥺 wearing him all over you and whatnot 🥺 and that you’ve chosen him 🥺#all rough edges and holes 🥺🥺🥺🥺#anyway theres a longer version of this but i might make it into a fic or put into an existing one so i will stop it hErEEEEe 🥹🥹🥹#bnha#katsu
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Girls Remus
🤝
,, it's that time of the month"
#For y'all so confused in the tags he's a werewolf so every month he transforms n shi#dead gay wizards#sirius black#fluff#hp marauders#james potter#remus fluff#regulus black#marauders fanart#marauders#regulus#remus being remus#sirius x reader fluff#remus lupin#Jegulus#wolfstar#the marauders#marauders era#marlily#dorlene#mary macdonald#dorcas meadowes#marlene alraune#mary and marlene#Marauders x reader#sirius black smut#marauders imagine#james potter x reader#james potter smut#sirius x reader
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SINGULARITY
MIRAGE/READER
SUMMARY: You and Mirage have been pining for each other for a while now. A nasty summer storm drives you straight into his arms. Shenanigans ensue.
WORD COUNT: 18k. Sorry I’m insane
WARNINGS: 18+ and I CANNOT STRESS THAT ENOUGH!! Explicit PWP, fingering + oral (fem receiving), penetrative sex, mild spit kink. Reader is fem and uses she/her pronouns but is written fairly androgynous. No descriptors of appearance beyond the basics and no (y/n) used.
Familiar streets flashed by at increasing speeds, traffic and pedestrians flickering by and blurring together into a smorgasbord of color, all gilded by the setting sun. Unconsciously, you dug your fingers into the seams of the leather seat beneath you, worrying the stitches. Out of the corner of your eye, the radio blazed to life with color and that oh-so-familiar symbol.
“Hey, hey, easy on the merchandise, hot stuff,” Mirage crackled out of the speakers lightheartedly, and you immediately yanked your hands into yourself like they’d been burned. In your worrying, you’d seemingly forgotten about what — or rather, who — exactly was your ride.
“Oh— my bad, I wasn’t thinking,” you said, sinking your weight back and down, instead picking at your nails to give your hands something to do. God, you were so nervous, and for what? Mirage knew all these people— these bots, and knew them well. They were all friends! Or amiable towards each other, at the very least. And they were the good guys. Saved the world and all that.
So why were you so anxious?
“You’re good, don’t worry ‘bout it.” He slowed to a stop at a red light. Your leg started to bounce. “Sooo… you wanna tell me what’s on your mind? Save me a trip to Noah’s repair shop? I’d hate for you to start taking your emotions out on me, y’know.”
You scoffed, eyes sliding to the radio. The grin that pulled at the corners of your mouth was one you were helpless to stop. He just had that effect on you, where around him you became a slave to your laughter and, additionally, also became one half of a terrible joke machine that Mirage happily completed.
Leather creaked as you nudged the inside of the door with your boot to chastise him. “You love when I take my emotions out on you, dick. Don’t lie.”
“Only the good ones,” he shot back, and you could hear the grin in his voice. “You nervous about meeting the others?”
His probe was successful; you fought the urge to shrink at your feelings being read so accurately and so immediately. “I— yeah. I am, and I don’t even know why. I’m sure they’re all great, I’m just working myself up over nothing.”
Red faded to green. Carried on the tide of forward-moving traffic, Mirage rolled ahead, eventually slipping over to make a turn. You watched him twist his mirrors to check his blind spot.
“Ah, c’mon. Nobody could blame you, you’re meeting a bunch of aliens for the first time. Pretty trippy for anyone. ‘specially if those aliens are, like, double your size. And robots.” A short chuckle topped off his words.
“Right. I just don’t wanna fuck it up or embarrass myself, you know how it is. I don’t wanna embarrass you, either.”
“Oh, Primus, trust me. You’re not gonna embarrass me. I don’t even think that’s possible. Prime’s seen me in a lot worse shape than bringing you in to meet him.” The world continued to roll by. Brick buildings blotted out the sunshine in intermittent flashes. “You got good marks from your favorite bot, you’ll be fine.” The dismissive tone of his voice was working, in a weird way, to assuage your fears.
“Excuse me,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest pointedly. “My favorite bot?”
“What, am I not?” A downright theatrical gasp hissed out of the speaker. “Have you been cheating on me?”
Cheeks hot with a flush at even the joking insinuation of being together, you glanced away from the impassive Autobot symbol on the radio and out the window. Still, the laugh barked out of you was sudden and sharp, and quickly dissolved into giggles. “Yes. Mirage. I’m sorry. There’s another ten foot tall alien robot in Brooklyn that’s been vying for my attention. We’re done.”
“I should throw you out on the street right now,” Mirage fussed playfully, his evident pout tinging his voice. “For breakin’ my spark. Also I’m taller than that.”
“You wouldn’t dare. I’m fragile.”
“I dunno. Noah gets his ass kicked around pretty good and he’s still kickin’ it.”
“I am not Noah,” came your tongue-in-cheek rebuttal. “And Noah just refuses to give up even when it’s good for him.”
“Thought qualities like determination were supposed to be big things with you guys.”
“In moderation.”
Mirage barked a laugh. “Ha! Should tell that to Prime. He’ll blow a gasket.” You opened your mouth to reply, only to be cut off. “No, seriously, tell it to Prime, we’re here.”
The easy confidence that your playful back-and-forth had teased out instantly chilled into a dense mass in your stomach; Mirage was rolling slowly up to a nondescript warehouse buried deep within the old industrial part of Brooklyn, and the way the worn brick loomed over you even in the car made your heart rate pick up.
Now or never.
Familiar alien whirs and clicks of shifting and setting metal filled your ears as Mirage rose into his bipedal mode, the driver’s seat gently ejecting you onto your own two legs on the pavement. Following the motion, you took a few steps forward, but still balked a little at the half open door. Inside, you heard voices of varying timbre, and you fought the urge to turn tail.
Now. Or. Never. Gritted teeth accompanied the repetition of your thought.
The displacement of air behind you — and the soft, constant mechanical noises emanating from his body — signaled Mirage’s presence before his voice.
He said your name with surprising care, using a tone that only came out when he was really being sincere. You couldn’t help the way your face warmed at it as you turned, craning your neck up to meet his gaze. “Hey, you, uh, you want me to go in ahead of ya? Normally I’d be like ‘ladies first’ and all that, but you said you weren’t feeling too jazzed about going in—“
“Yeah, actually, if you could, that would be… great. That would be great.”
“Gotcha. Let you psych yourself up a little more before you go in, I see how it is. Let me do the talking,” he affirmed with an easy grin and a nod, bouncing on the balls of his pedes a few times before striding forward. His long legs folded easily under him as he ducked under the lowered garage door, and you traipsed after, smoothing your thumb over your knuckles repeatedly.
The warehouse yawned beyond you, orange shafts of light cutting gashes into otherwise brownish darkness. Old graffiti sprayed across the walls told you that Ramona had been there once, then Nick, then Darnell, and a million others. And you were there now, feeling impossibly small, yes, but a little more resilient with the fading sunlight at your back and Mirage, like always, at your side.
He’d become a permanent fixture in your life from the day you’d met him — when you’d strong-armed Noah into giving up his secret about his Porsche, and the mysterious car had ended up being a twelve-foot-tall robot with a literal motormouth that made a playful pass at you within the first hour of your first conversation. You’d been flustered out of your mind, but had just kept coming back out of unfettered curiosity and outright fascination. Aliens were real, and Noah was friends with one, and it— he could turn into a Porsche.
Mind-shattering observations on the surface, yes. Mirage tended to deflate the grandeur, though, because he never acted like aliens did in the movies or in books. There was no ‘We come in peace!’ bullshit. He was so easy. Everything with him was so easy. He was loudmouthed and extroverted and genuinely hilarious; you spent hours in Noah’s garage trading terrible jokes — mostly bad sexual innuendos — or buckled to Mirage’s driver’s seat as he flew down Central Avenue on the wrong side of the limit and blasted Haddaway so loud it nearly busted your eardrums.
Weird to say an alien robot was your friend, but he was. He gave you rides to work, to your lectures, to your labs, wherever; in fact, he got petulant when you dared to take the bus one day to give him a break, and made it a point to pry your routine out of you so that he could take you wherever you wanted, no fares needed.
So infuriating. You loved it.
You loved… maybe more than just the back-and-forth. Maybe more than the bad jokes. Maybe more than the late-night drives. You were starting to think— starting to realize you loved big blue optics, and the rumble of a 260 horsepower engine when you made just the right innuendo, and broad, incredibly intricate servos that dwarfed yours in size but were so, so careful…
Man. You tried not to think about it too much. It as a concept made you laugh with its own absurdity. Poor human chick fell in love with the giant alien robot that made her laugh. It wasn’t… debilitating. You still functioned like a normal adult. Mostly. Except for that one night like two weeks ago where you’d been arguing with him about some stupid shit and he’d scooped you up, right off the ground, in both servos and held you there, digits interlaced against your back and thumbs on your front.
It wasn’t the first time he’d ever held you like that — he’d done it a few times — but something was different that night… even if he’d only done it to gain an upper hand in your bickering. The air crackled with latent electricity, made your skin buzz in all the right places, especially when Mirage had gone quiet for once in his life as he stared at you in his grasp. When you’d prompted him with his name, he’d only responded by gently stroking a thumb over the swell of your chest, which had made you gasp air in so sharply that it burned in your throat. The metal left a tingling path on your skin under your shirt in its wake and immediately sent your heart rate skyrocketing past whatever the fuck was a normal BPM.
He’d snapped back to reality at the sudden expansion of your lungs and had attempted to play it all off as a joke. You remembered how you’d still stumbled when your shoes touched the ground, an absolutely insane feeling of genuine heat rocking you as your brain seized the feeling of his touch while it still sparked against your nerve endings and helpfully replayed it over and over and over again. Sure, the rhythm of banter came back after a stuttering beat, but you never really cooled the warmth on your face for the rest of that night — and when Mirage had dropped you off at your apartment, your door was shut and locked for about five minutes before your shaking hand was frantically worked beneath the waistband of your pants.
…Whew. Definitely something a little more than friendly there. Maybe even more than pure love, something a little slicker and deeper that buzzed against your bones and coiled low in your stomach. It made you feel a little weird — just objectively, because of what Mirage was — but damn if it didn’t feel good to indulge.
God, fuck, why were you thinking about that now, of all times? Escapist fantasies be damned, you were going to meet Mirage’s comrades-friends-coworkers and leave a good impression. Not drool over the worn-out memory replaying in your head for the thousandth time this week.
Out of the darkness and around corners, they emerged. The stealth wasn’t on purpose; you didn’t even think they could be stealthy. Oh, one was coming right for you now — tall was the only word your brain could muster. Tall and red and square were added to the list of adjectives as the stately bot approached, servos collected into fists at his sides and shoulders thrown back.
“Priiiime,” Mirage greeted warmly, throwing his arms out at his sides in his favorite pose. “Look, hey, I know what you said about bringing more people around, but I swear— Hey!”
Completely ignoring your friend’s (status pending) greeting, the bot— Prime, holy shit, this is THE Prime, was kneeling down, leaning forward, and he was right in your face. You fought the very biological urge to flinch. Blue optics considered you for a moment before narrowing and flicking to your right from his lowered position.
“Mirage,” Optimus started with a gravelly tone from behind his faceguard that communicated exasperation above all else. “I explicitly stated that for our safety — and yours — that we were to come in contact with no more humans.”
“Sir, I gotta be honest with you. Kinda hard on a planet that’s got, what, five billion of ‘em? Six?” Mirage glanced at you for backup. You stared back flatly, refusing to say anything that might put you on the business end of a laser cannon.
“You were told to remain incognito so you could recover.” Optimus continued, his gaze returning to you. With a shunk of shifting metal, his faceplate slid away. His faceplates were weathered; the chipped metal around his optics gave the illusion of wrinkles and eyebags. Tired. He seemed tired. “This is not incognito. What is your name?”
You gave it after taking a beat to steady yourself. He repeated it back to you. “How did you come in contact with Mirage?”
“I, uh— Noah, Noah Diaz, he’s my friend. I basically pried it out of him,” you said with a nervous laugh. “So it’s not Mirage’s fault. I’m just nosy.”
At the mention of Noah, Optimus seemed to visibly relax; he moved back slightly, though he remained kneeling, and the narrowed, suspicious squint of his optics rounded out into something much softer.
“…I see. Then I assume you understand the… precarious nature of our existence on your planet.” he said, his tone grave and his optics searching your face.
You nodded, pressing the flesh of the inside of your cheek between your teeth for a moment as you came up with a suitably diplomatic response that still conveyed your friendliness. “I do, yeah. Noah told me most of it. What he could, anyway. I just wanted to make it clear that I’m not— I’m not a threat here. Like I don’t work with the, uh, the government or anything. Whatever you guys need help with, I’m available, even if that just means keeping my mouth shut.”
Christ, you were glad this wasn’t your day job. You’d be such a shit ambassador. I’m available. What the hell did that even mean? Fuck yes, you were available, your brain guffawed, thinking of broad metal thumbs brushing over your chest.
You blinked hard, squeezing your eyelids together until the world came back in a photo negative, to scold yourself.
Although you’d stumbled through your reply, Optimus seemed to approve. He rose with a great creak of metal off of his knee and backed up to give you space, though he still regarded you with those sharp blue optics that felt as though they pinned you to the concrete below. “I see Noah chooses his company well. I should have assumed his sentiments would extend to his companions.” He shut his optics for a moment and dipped his head, as if considering deeply what to say next. “I am not sure how much Mirage — or Noah — divulged to you.”
“A fair amount— well. Any amount that won’t get them in trouble,” you called up, taking in deeper breaths to project your voice up the two stories of height to his head. To your side, Mirage snorted. “I know your name— Optimus, I know that, and I know about the Autobots. A little bit about the— fuck, what were they called—“
“Terrorcons?” Mirage supplied, and you were impressed at how quiet he’d been otherwise.
“Terrorcons, thank you. Other than that, not much. How much should I know?”
“Your knowledge is sufficient. All we fear — and all we risk—“ Optimus added with a pointed look at Mirage, who looked incredibly sheepish. “—at the moment is discovery. So long as you maintain secrecy, no harm shall come to us… or you, for that matter.”
It almost sounded like a threat, but Prime worded it very much like a warning. You decided it was best to heed his word — not that you really had another option.
“Right. Okay. Well— I mean, it was nice to meet you. People — humanity, I guess — aren’t bad. Most of us aren’t, anyway. Just, uh, let me know if there’s something Noah and I can get or do for you.”
Prime’s gaze shifted away from you. In fact, it seemed to shift away from the warehouse in general, looking somewhere far beyond the now-shut garage door. “Your generosity is admirable, but it is not humans primarily that we are concerned with.”
Brows furrowed at his vague answer, you thought it over for a second — and then decided not to push it. He probably knew best when it came to whatever foreboding nebulous space threat loomed over your collective heads; you would leave it up to the experts.
“Oh, well, golden rule and all that,” you still offered in terms of a response. That got his attention. His massive head tilted downwards to look at you once more with curiosity. “If I crash landed on someone else’s planet, I’d want them to be hospitable, y’know? Just trying to make the best of a shitty situation.”
Like he couldn’t handle the terrible punishment of silence anymore, Mirage butted in. “See, Prime? I told you she was cool.”
A short jolt shook the broad, boxy line of his shoulders, and at first you had thought he’d coughed, and then you realized he laughed. It was barely anything, a huff of a chuckle, but you glowed with the indirect affirmation. Just made Optimus Prime laugh. Maybe you weren’t such a terrible diplomat.
He wasn’t looking at you, though, rather at Mirage, and you swore from your low vantage point you could see a barely-there smile on Prime’s faceplates communicating…was that smug amusement? As the tall bot carefully made his way past you, he stopped in front of your companion, and let a heavy servo land on the headlight adorning his shoulder.
“No matter what you may feel, you chose well, Mirage.” Optimus rumbled out, before removing his servo and traipsing off into a darker section of the sprawling warehouse, ducking through a much-too-small cutout and speaking to Arcee about something indistinguishable. However, you couldn’t care less about whatever her and Prime were discussing — what the hell did he mean by Mirage choosing well?
You turned your head towards said bot, mouth open for inquiry and one brow raised. Mirage looked mortified, in every sense of the word; he stood shell-shocked, lips slightly parted and servos up and open as if to defend himself. His head was whipped around to follow Prime’s departure from the room. A whir started, bouncing off the walls — Mirage’s fans came on and off intermittently to keep his ambient internal temperature at safe levels, but the steady hum of this fan let you infer that he was flushing something fierce.
“Mirage? What—“
Interrupting you by breaking, nearly jumping, out of his trance, he clapped his servos together and started talking at a million miles a minute. “Well, damn, look at that, haha, it’s late, ain’t it? You got work in the morning, right? C’mon, hop in, I’ll drive you home—“
“No, Mirage, hold on, what was he talking about—“
“Seriously, c’mon, he was just messing around—“
“You’re telling me Optimus Prime was joking? Is he even capable of that?”
He said your name with a finality that nearly made you flinch. “Look, I can’t really— Just drop it, please?” It wasn’t angry, nor was it even commanding; in fact, his eyes were wide and pleading with you out of embarrassment. You knew the feeling all too well, and in the interest of sparing his feelings, decided to let it go, despite your intense curiosity.
You put your hands up in surrender. “Okay. Dropped.” A few beats of silence passed while Mirage was still tamping down his fluster. “You wanna take me home now or are we waiting for Prime to come embarrass you more?”
“Please, let’s get outta here,” he affirmed, dropping into his alt-mode and popping the driver door for you. As you slid in, you couldn’t help the little mischievous smile that grew on your face as your brain cooked up some other joke to take the edge off.
The garage door opened on its own. Mirage rolled into the noticeably darker alleyway. The burnt umber glow of the sunset-stained sky was only visible overhead; otherwise you were boxed in on the sides by blacked-out buildings.
Stifling silence was broken by a joke. Your joke, actually. “…Can’t believe your dad made fun of you in front of me.”
The noise Mirage made was only comparable to a squawk. But obviously much more masculine, clearly. Still, his tires jerked on the road, betraying his surprise. “Hey— Prime is not my sire— or dad, or whatever you wanna call ‘em. He wishes.”
“I dunno,” you mused, arms crossed over your chest and back sunk deep into the seat. Brooklyn in transition blurred by in messy constellations of lit windows. “He got you pretty good there. Pretty standard dad behavior.”
“Hey, I don’t know what suddenly inspired him to go for comedy, but I do not appreciate it. That’s my thing. He’s stealin’ my thunder!”
“Maybe you’re just rubbing off on him.”
Silence.
The radio crackled. “Ew.”
Accompanied by the loudest eyeroll you could muster, you whacked the dashboard with an open palm, though you couldn’t stop your bubbling laughter. “Oh my god, you are so gross, Mirage! I hate you!”
“Ahh, don’t say that, c’mon! You love it here!”
“You wish.”
The rest of the ride home was spent that way, bickering like normal, and although you couldn’t let go of what Prime had said, nor his knowing look while he said it, you appreciated the return to baseline. When you got home, Mirage parked directly in front of your apartment building, and you lingered on the sidewalk for several minutes after you got out of the car. With the passenger door opened so it looked like you were talking to the ‘driver’ and not completely insane, you leaned on the doorframe and traded jabs with your ride until the humidity of the night air got a little too persistent to ignore. Damn you, Brooklyn.
“See you tomorrow?” Mirage never said goodnight. He only ever asked when he could see you again, corny bastard.
“Tomorrow. My roommate’ll take me to work, don’t worry about it. I’ll just stick my head in the garage when I get home.”
“I thought we had a thing goin’, man!” His faux petulance returned. “You movin’ on already? You just met my folks!”
Your jaw dropped for a second at the fact he’d turned the damn bit around on you. “I met one folk, and you literally said he wasn’t your dad.”
“Maybe I was warmin’ up to the idea!”
Another lethal eyeroll. Your smile still remained locked on your face. “Whatever. Get the hell out of here, asshole,” you said, playfully shutting the door just a little harder than you needed to and slapping the roof like a horse you were trying to send off into the desert.
Even as you turned to walk into your building, you could hear the way his window shot down, far faster than a normal roll. “Ay! Merchandise!”
You stuck a middle finger over your shoulder, thumb out and all, to give him an idea of what he could do with his merchandise. Tires peeled against pavement as he screeched out of his spot and down the otherwise quiet street, letting you know in return how he felt about that.
Smiling like an idiot as you climbed the stairs to your apartment, you felt… airy. You were always smiling after hanging around Mirage, you couldn’t help it — especially as of late. But still, you were dying to know what Prime was talking about when he was messing with Mirage earlier. You chose well. Chose what? Your brain briefly entertained the thought of Mirage returning what you felt, and it made blood rush to your face.
It couldn’t really… work. You had made peace with your physical differences weeks ago. The both of you got along just fine despite the size difference, and it never impeded your normal interactions. But you doubted Mirage felt the same; no matter how familiar, how friendly you were with him, you could never shake the feeling of being just a little too alien. Your greatest similarities were in personality. The closest resemblance you held physically was the fact you were both humanoid in shape.
That didn’t stop you. No, not at all. It didn’t stop you from dropping into bed after a quick shower with a heavy sigh, your hand inevitably sinking beneath the covers as you thought of digits — Mirage’s digits, so well articulated for their size and so careful — playing with the hem of your underwear instead of your own fingers, pushing the fabric aside just a little roughly to explore your alien anatomy. It took very little time for you to grind yourself to climax; in fact, it was embarrassingly quick, and it left your face hot with some special kind of shame as you slunk out of bed to wash your hands. The entire time, you avoided your reflection in the mirror.
Even with the ancient AC cranked on and chugging away, it took you a long while to fall asleep.
Off in the industrial district of Brooklyn, meanwhile, Mirage was burning rubber as he took ninety-degree turns at sixty miles per hour. His processor was thrumming at max capacity, and his engine felt like it was about to either stall or explode.
Primus, it was all too much. Your teasing always got him some kind of hot and bothered, tight under his interface paneling, but the acidic rush of embarrassment still prickled at his cabling. Prime, come on, man. Mirage was still floored at the fact that Prime of all bots had embarrassed him like that, in front of you, no less!
He had it bad for you, and he knew it, but apparently every other bot in that warehouse knew it too. Ever since he’d met you, you’d stuck in his processor, the way the light glinted off your eyes and your all-teeth smile and the way he could get you to laugh. Sure, his flirts were only playful at first — and he only did them to mess with Noah, who’d harbored an on-and-off crush on you for a while — but the more he did them and the more you returned them, the more he started really… considering it.
It was so shameful. Primus, it was shameful. He’d barely ever interfaced in his life — there was just no time, especially not on Cybertron — and never with organics. After that one night where he’d hefted you up with ease in both servos and completely blanked when confronted with your soft, warm weight in his hold, he’d been on a spiral. It wasn’t just enough to be friendly with you; he was plenty friendly with Noah (though with the amount of stupid passes Mirage made at him, Noah would probably say too friendly) and he wanted something more with you.
He’d lost count of how many times he’d rolled into some long-abandoned warehouse or pitch-black deserted alley and scrabbled at his interface panel to pressurize his spike before he feverishly, frantically humped his fisted servo for relief, mental processors supplying increasingly filthy fantasies of your soft skin against his chassis and your mouth, Primus, your mouth on his own, on his spike, wherever, he didn’t care. Every single time, though, after coming down from his high with steam pouring off his lax frame, he felt just a little more discouraged than the last — because he knew that his fantasies would have to stay that way. Fantasies. Your friendship was enough, had to be, no matter how bad he wanted you, because he’d be damned to the Pit before he scared you off by being stupid and admitting his feelings.
Ugh. Ugh. He took another corner too hard and felt his tires shriek, let the burn travel upward and reverberate in his frame. The chaos in his mental processors quieted as he neared HQ. All he knew was that it was late, and he couldn’t be too loud or Prime would get on his ass for interrupting his stasis.
Can’t believe your dad made fun of you in front of me. Your voice played, unbidden, from some file that popped open in his memory bank. He willed it away with a vengeance as he rolled into the warehouse-turned-headquarters as quietly as he could, transforming as soon as the door was shut and stretching out his back. Clicking echoed off the walls as his spinal struts reset, and the residual burn in his scraped tires tingled.
Mirage turned, and—
Yelped. Bumblebee was standing right there, shoulder against the wall and fiddling with some holographic projection from his forearm. Mirage coughed into his clenched servo to preserve what was left of his dignity.
“‘Sup,” he greeted through gritted denta. “I, uh, didn’t see you there, man. How’s it hangin’?”
Bee gave him a flatly unamused look that communicated ‘No shit, you didn’t see me.’ very well. The projection phased out of existence and left the two of them in the dimmed space in some kind of standoff.
“Well, y’know, beauty stasis and everything, I’m just gonna—“
“I wanna know, what you’re feeling! Tell me what’s your mind!” burbled Bee’s radio in place of his voice. Mirage jerked back for a second, not expecting Information Society at whatever unholy hour of the morning it was.
“Look, man, I don’t really wanna talk about—“
“There are some things you can’t hide!” insisted the same song. Bee gestured for Mirage to talk. Clearly he wanted to know.
This was as good a time as ever to spill, he guessed.
Mirage groaned and clasped both of his servos over his face after explaining the bones of it, his head tilted upwards, optics fruitlessly searching the water-stained warehouse ceiling for a solution to his problem. His… very human, very embarrassing problem.
Not that he thought you were embarrassing— not at all, never. But Prime would have his head over falling for a human. Okay, well, maybe not his head; it was more like Mirage would be in for a lengthy disapproving speech about responsibilities and goals and distractions, and Primus, just thinking about it made the former option of decapitation the preferable one. Even though he seemed to approve of his choice, considering what he’d said earlier, the ‘Bots were still at war, and there wasn’t time for human distractions. Literal human distractions.
It wasn’t like he could help it. You were funny, okay? And smart. And you teased him in just the right way that made his cooling fans sputter, and you were so curious about… everything about him, he thought, remembering your impromptu Cybertronian anatomy lesson with a hot flash in his processor. He couldn’t help but be flattered by your attention.
“Ugh, Bee, I don’t know what to do, man,” he said despairingly after a moment, pacing in circles in front of said squat yellow bot leaned against the nearby concrete wall. “I mean, look at this, she’d be missin’ out if she said no,” he added, arrogance staining his words in an attempt to console himself. It didn’t work; insecurity eviscerated his bravado moments after he said it. “Or… I guess we’d both be, huh.” A short, self-deprecating laugh left him.
Mirage wasn’t entirely sure why he’d come to Bee of all bots for advice, but he was sure as shit not going to Optimus after today, and Arcee would have just told him anyway. Plus, considering that Wheeljack wasn’t even in the country at the moment, his options were slim. Besides, Bee had… experience with this sort of thing. Dealing with humans and all. Just… not in this way. But it was close enough, and Mirage was totally lost; if he thought about it by himself for any longer, his processors were going to fry.
Speaking of, Bee tittered through his gutted voice synthesizer to get Mirage’s attention. Expression drawn into a very human grimace, Mirage turned to face his friend, servos planted firmly on his hips.
“Well, you gotta tell her— wanna know what love is— want you to show me,” Bee’s radio clipped, first from a talk show, then from a nearby station, and Mirage felt energon surge to his face in a hot rush at a very personal song being blared back at him.
He had the words memorized at this point. The shape of them was practically burned into his memory files, considering how much he played it for you. It was reserved for days on both ends of the spectrum, bad and good; Mirage would pick you up in his alt-mode and take you for joyrides across the city, flying over the Brooklyn Bridge at daredevil speeds, all the while blaring music loud enough to make your head pound.
The two of you had discovered a few favorites, but the Foreigner song was at the top of the list, right next to Careless Whisper, of course. The sound of your voice belting at the top of your lungs, softened with that specific human accent, thrumming and reverberating through your chest— you sounded so alive, but so different from what he was accustomed to.
“Dude—” Mirage nearly barked, voice up a full octave before clearing his synthesizer into his fist and repeating himself. “Dude. I can’t just do that. Aliens— we’re aliens. Well. She’s an alien, too, I guess, but we,” he paused to gesture frantically between himself and Bee, “are the aliens here. I don’t really think humans are into the whole giant robot thing.”
“Noah?” Bee played a clip of Mirage’s own voice back at him questioningly.
“Yeah, well, Noah’s a different story.”
With a whir of his actuators, Bee shook his head and looked away for a moment, big blue optics considering the floor. With a soft clunk, he crossed his arms over his chassis.
“Come on, man, you gotta give me something,” Mirage urged, tilting his head to follow the other bot’s motions. “Should I just leave it? I mean, I don’t want it to be weird, I just—“
Bee straightened up off the wall, clearly done thinking. His arms opened out in a shrug and his optics squinted, communicating I don’t know what you want me to say, dude, far better than his vocal synthesizer ever could have.
His radio clipped again, this time a few seconds of a Beatles song and then Noah’s voice. “She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah— right?”
“I don’t know, that’s the problem,” Mirage groaned, rolling his head back with a pained expression and letting his body follow the motion as he paced another tight circle. His faceplates felt hot at the insinuation. “And if I ask, it’s gonna be weird. And if I make it weird, I’m never gonna—“
He stopped rambling when a four-digit servo thumped on the headlight atop his shoulder, rooting him to the spot. Bee’s optics stared him down, wide and bright blue, and it made Mirage press his lips together firmly as he awaited whatever sage advice he was about to impart.
ABBA filtered through the radio first. “Should walk right up to her and say—“ What came next made Mirage’s brow ridges shoot up so high he thought they were going to fly off his helmet. “—when I get that feeling, I want sexual healin’!”
Mirage’s jaw dropped. Immensely flustered and ten times more frustrated at his friend’s useless advice, he shoved the other bot off. “Are you serious, dude? Primus, I never shoulda asked you. Thanks, I’ll go walk right up to her and ask to interface on the warehouse floor, that’ll go super well.”
Bee nodded quickly and gave him a double thumbs up with a series of approving beeps and chirps, the bottoms of his optics flattening into an amused look. Mirage dragged his servo down his faceplates in mortification, although his cooling fans kicked on a click higher than normal.
Sometimes he wished he’d been left on Cybertron with Soundwave and all his other goons. This was one of those times. As he dropped back into his alt-mode with an embarrassed mumble about ‘going on patrol,’ Bee whooped behind him, and the last thing Mirage heard before peeling out of the warehouse was “There’s nothin’ wrong with me lovin’ you, baby, no, no!”
Whoever gave Bee access to Marvin Gaye needed to be whacked upside the helm.
Knowing Mirage’s luck, it was probably you.
He stayed out for the rest of the night in his alt-mode, wandering the streets and staying away from your apartment, no matter how bad he wanted to go. The pool of people with any useful advice to offer for his predicament was steadily shrinking; after the disaster with Bee, Mirage just needed to stay away from that warehouse and let his processors cool.
Sometime in the morning he returned, though not to the warehouse. He almost immediately crashed into stasis as soon as he rolled into Noah’s garage, his simultaneously pent-up and exhausted processors eager for a chance to refresh themselves and defrag.
Ha, he thought blearily as he sank into stasis. Defrag.
You were waking as he was crashing, though you weren’t happy about it. The eight hour shift that loomed ahead of you on top of the bullshit from last night was a pretty potent combination for a headache of a day, especially when you couldn’t have your morning jam sesh with Mirage on your way to work. Thankfully, though, your roommate was a kind soul, and there was an extra cup of coffee waiting for you on the counter when you stumbled out of your bedroom.
As you sipped it, you wondered just how long you could keep the front up. By some small grace of God, your roommate’s schedule didn’t align very well with yours; you barely saw them in your daily life even before you met Mirage. It wasn’t on purpose, of course. It just happened that way. But on a few occasions, they’d been home when Mirage had dropped you off, and you’d been just calling him a ‘friend with places to be’ to excuse the fact that he never walked you to your door. Being somewhat prescient, they’d nudged you a couple times about this ‘friend’ turning into a boyfriend, but had never pushed it.
You just hoped it stayed that way.
Breakfast was a quick and quiet affair, though you traded a few jokes back and forth that had the both of you giggling into your food. The ride to your job was similar, and your roommate wished you a good shift before driving off leisurely — such a stark difference compared to Mirage’s affinity for peeling off into the street at Mach-fucking-10. Thinking of him made your face burn and your mind race. You tried not to.
Time was an especially cruel mistress today, though. You swore that people were actively winding the clocks back every time you looked up at them, and your shift felt like a thick slog, knee-deep, that you had no choice but to wade through. The worst part about slow shifts was that your mind wandered with nothing else to do, and like a moth to a flame— or rather, like metal to a magnet, your brain circled around to Mirage again and again and again.
Damn that bot. Damn it all. Every time you thought of him, it was some stupid joke he’d cracked or silly offhand comment he’d made or ridiculous flirt he’d lobbed your way — always accompanied by memories of his body, surprisingly lithe considering what he was made of, all legs and a dramatic waist topped with wide shoulders that made your own engine purr.
“Mirage, did you go upstate or something? You’re disgusting,” you’d laughed as you raked your gaze over his pecs, pretending to eye the dirt smeared there and not something else.
“Disgusting?! You gotta be kidding me, I’m not half as bad as the rest of ‘em. You should see Bee, dude!” He’d gestured out the door of the warehouse, where you assumed the other bot was lurking in dirt-covered shame.
“What the hell were you two even doing?”
“Pfft. Practicin’.”
“Practicing body-slamming each other?”
“Yeah, want me to show you?”
“Mirage,” you’d groaned, laughing despite yourself.
“C’mon, I know a few good ways to pin a bot down,” he grinned, winking at you. You fixed him with the most dead stare you could muster before breaking into a half-smile of your own.
“I’ll pass on the whole getting crushed thing, but I could be persuaded to spray you down by hand,” you flirted back, just for fun.
No, not for fun. Real flirt. It was real, all of it was, and you couldn’t shake the memory of his optics widening, brightening, with eagerness and the way he’d pleaded. Playfully. Playfully?
“Please,” he begged dramatically, clasping his servos together, optics enormous. “I’ll be good! Maybe even stay still!”
You pinched your nose bridge between your fingers and tried to think about something else, because you were starting to press your thighs together a little and you were still at work, damn it. Professionalism was something you were aiming to maintain.
Hot. It was hot. That’s what you were thinking about. You’d glanced at the weather report earlier in the morning, and seeing a row of little sun icons clued you in on an insufferable heatwave that didn’t have any intention of breaking any time soon. Even now you felt sweat collect under your shirt and dot your hairline; all you could do was wipe your face with the back of your hand and keep working.
And working.
And working.
And. Working.
And then, eventually, you watched the clock tick over the last minute of your shift, and you heard angels sing a holy choir as you all but slammed your things down and sprinted to clock out. Well. You didn’t sprint, but you did speed walk, which counted for something.
Such was your haste to leave your workplace and talk to Mirage that you speed-walked headfirst into the lashing rain outside without a second thought. Genuinely caught by surprise, you stumbled back into the safety of the entryway, eyes wide as you watched the storm front swallow the last dregs of the golden evening sky and pour rain on the streets outside. Ink blots bleeding across paper. Rorschach tests. Some other poetic fluff came to mind over the supremely annoying realization that you were going to have to walk to the garage in wet clothes.
At least it was a quick walk.
Patience waning, you nearly considered calling Mirage — or even Noah — to come get you, but at the last second your roommate swooped in, pulling up outside and honking the horn a few times to let you know your knight in shining Prius was here to rescue you.
They cracked a few jokes at your expense when they saw your wet clothes, but it was nothing you couldn’t handle. Not after the trials and tribulations of Mirage. With a few clicks, the rest of your ride home was filled with Boyz II Men and intermittent conversation as you watched raindrops race each other down the window and considered what the hell you were going to say to Mirage tonight.
Mostly, you were dying of curiosity to know what Prime had meant to get him so flustered. Thinking about that, though, just made you go down a spiral of what-ifs… especially considering that one of them was ‘What if he feels the same way?’
You could handle rejection. You were an adult who paid taxes. But just this one time, you weren’t sure if you could handle reciprocation. Especially full reciprocation.
Mirage’s friendship was something you felt privileged to have. You were just quite scared to fuck it all up and lose out on all the things that made being his friend worth it — including him. Jaw tightening, you blinked and looked away from the window. No use stewing in it.
At home, your dinner was quick and light — something in a Tupperware that you didn’t look at too hard after microwaving. When your roommate asked about your rush, you came up with some lame excuse about hanging out with Noah, waving your hand dismissively.
Don’t worry about me. I’m going to go break Hynek’s scale of close encounters. Don’t worry about it though.
“In this weather? You’ll be soaked thirty seconds out the door. You were soaked thirty seconds out the door.”
“I’ll bring an umbrella,” you said, barely listening to them over the cacophony of your own thoughts. Mirage. Mirage. Mirage. I’m seeing him tonight. I’m talking to him tonight. I’m not going to pussy out of anything tonight. Now or never. “The place is like two blocks up the street, I’ll live.”
“If you’re so inclined to catch a cold, I’m not gonna stop you. Not making you chicken soup, though.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you snarked affectionately, and the last thing you heard before exiting your apartment was their familiar laughter. That bolstered you somewhat.
Even if the rain whipping at your face made you reconsider your stupid horny stubbornness.
Only two blocks felt more like two dozen as you tucked your chin to your chest and gripped your hood to keep the wind from snatching it off your head; in your other hand you white-knuckled your umbrella to keep it from tilting the wrong angle and washing water down your back. Thunder rattled your bones more than once and made you think offhandedly of Kris, the poor kid. He hated storms but refused to admit it out of pride; he was probably curled up in a ball under his covers right now trying to block out the worst of the noise. And you thought of Noah alongside him just out of pure association, and you weren’t sure what made your stomach turn, but it did.
God, you hoped Noah wasn’t with Mirage right now. You didn’t want to slam the door open to the garage soaking wet and wrestle Mirage’s true feelings out of him while Noah spectated. Wrestle. Soaking wet.
Fuck my life.
The side door to the garage was jammed like it always was, even after you unlocked it, and you huddled against it to stay under the mediocre cover of the awning as you shoved your shoulder into it to force it open. Old metal hinges wailed as you ground them open, and the blessed dry warmth of the garage — the temperature always heightened with Mirage’s presence — sighed against your freezing skin as you wormed your way inside.
“Mirage?” you called tentatively as you leaned back against the door to get it to shut and latch. A beat passed before your senses came to you and your hand fumbled behind you to lock it. Not for sordid reasons, honestly. You just didn’t want anyone to even have the chance of walking in on Mirage when he wasn’t folded into a Porsche.
Speaking of, you saw him then, pacing around the garage and seemingly very involved in a conversation with himself. Although the rain outside provided a dull roar of background noise, the whirs and clicks of his actuators and soft whooms of his pedes against the concrete filled your ears with their familiarity. It was Mirage, and you knew Mirage, and it helped dull the edge of abject nervousness in your gut.
He cut a sharp figure under the hanging ceiling lights, making sure to duck and avoid smacking his helm on them. When those bright blue optics registered your existence, you swore they flared with delight; he said your name with such enthusiasm it almost made you excited. For what, exactly, you didn’t know. “Hey, sugar, what’s k— Primus, you, uh, swim on your way here? Or do I just make you that wet? Cuz I appreciate the compliment.” He grinned wolfishly at you. Sparks flew off your rubbed-raw nerves.
The unimpressed stare you gave him was lethal. “That is not how that works,” you said, shaking your umbrella off on the floor and setting it against the wall to drip dry. “All the wetness is— would be in one place, dumbass.”
“Sorry. Wasn’t paying attention during my anatomy lessons. Wanna reteach ‘em to me? I’ll behave, swear on my spark.”
A scoff. “When have you ever behaved in your life?”
“When it counts! C’mon, you know you like it,” he said, gesturing down the length of his body with a flourish of his servo. “I mean, what isn’t there to like?”
“If I answer that question, I’ll hurt your feelings.” Excess rainwater dripped off your jacket as you peeled it off. Mirage’s optics followed the motion intently.
Amber lighting nearly glowed against the sleek metal of his torso. So what if your own eyes had wandered down it at his emphasis? He’d invited it. Expressly. He loved your attention, loved flaunting everything about himself just for a glance his way from you, for anything you’d give him.
It took him a second to register your words. He gasped and clasped a servo over his chassis— his spark, you remembered that from your own anatomy lesson a few weeks ago. “Gonna break my spark talkin’ like that. I hurt your feelings or something, sugar? What’s got you so bent?” With his question, he sank into a deep squat, draping his forearm over his thigh and leaning close to you.
A deep exhale left you. Your shoulders deflated. “It’s not you. Just the weather.” A short huff of a laugh, barely humorous, left you. “I mean, look at me.” You held your arms out and spun in a slow circle, errant droplets flying in every direction. “I look like a drowned rat.”
The lightbulb over his head was nearly visible. “You, uh, want a hand drying off?”
You stopped dead in your tracks. Your hands fell to your sides. Something akin to lightning danced up your spine.
“What?”
“Hold on, hold on, I got an idea,” he said, holding his hand out at you to tell you to wait, excitement ramping up in his voice. What the hell was he planning? Nothing good, you figured. Or hoped.
Otherwise harsh sounds of metal against metal were softened by the alien chirrs and trills of the mechanical viscera working in his chassis as he settled on the ground in a sitting position. His back was leaned against the wall, carefully adjusted so his darling paint job was away from the rough concrete. To keep his balance, he rested against his tires and scooched his hips away from the wall, kicking his long legs out with a flourish and gesturing at his lap.
Although he was shorter this way, it was still a climb you didn't want to make while you were damp and the general slip hazard was high. “Can you give me a lift so I can see whatever shit you’re planning?”
“I got you, sugar, don’t even worry about it. Just hang on,” came the reply, and your brain blanked just a little at the feeling of his servos on you again, picking you up just like they had done on that night two weeks ago. With zero effort — seriously, you didn’t even hear any mechanical creaking — you were scooped upwards.
Your damp clothes clung to your body, a fact both you and Mirage were painfully aware of; the chill of the soaked fabric contrasted against that fascinating living heat of your skin nearly made the sensors in his servos short-circuit. He’d thought about this, exactly this, so much that it had probably worn a path into his neural processors. So soft. You were so soft.
A shudder ran up his spinal strut and he prayed you didn’t notice.
You were set down with your feet firmly on the flat tops of his thighs, ignoring the slight wobble in your knees. Arms raised a bit for balance, you looked down at the living machinery beneath you. The flight paths of the butterflies in your stomach grew more frantic. Broad servos released you from their hold, but they didn’t leave; no, they skated down, down, down until they settled on the flare of your hips and stayed. They were so heavy.
A breath caught in your throat like a wild animal in a trap. “If I fall, I’m gonna be so pissed off. You know that, right?” Anything to make this more normal. You had no idea how you kept the shake out of your voice.
“Relaaax, hot stuff, I’m on it. I got it, I got it,” he replied, his voice a full octave lower than what you were used to. “‘sides, I’m Mirage, remember? Protecting humans is kinda my thing.”
You scoffed. “Not with the way you drive.”
“Hey, I drive perfectly fine! You’re the one who’s scared of fun.” His servos left your hips to brace themselves on the floor. “Mirage, don’t drive so fast! Mirage, that’s a red light! Mirage, there are cops behind us!” His voice pitched up into something high and nasally to poorly, poorly mimic yours.
It was your turn to be affronted, though your mouth was open in a disbelieving sort of smile. “I don’t even sound like that, you fucker! And sorry for trying to keep us from getting arrested!”
“I dunno, you all sorta sound the same to our audio processors.” He was lying, and blatantly so. He had the distinct tone and pitch of your voice memorized down to the wavelength. “And besides, we wouldn’t get arrested.” His own voice took on a smug, self-satisfied edge, accompanied by the raise of his brow ridges.
“Oh, really? Why’s that? Please, enlighten me,” you snarked, crossing your arms over your chest and staring him down. In response, he leaned his head in, closer to you, closer than you expected, and an insufferable smirk crawled across his faceplates.
“Cuz cop cars can’t drive that fast,” he whispered conspiratorially, like it was a clever response.
What should have been a minute movement — just a shift of the head — actually became very noticeable on a twelve-foot-frame; his hips repositioned of their own accord to account for the redistribution of weight, and the change was enough to trip you up. Especially when you had been leaning in already to match his movement.
The world tilted as you started to fall forward; fearing injury or worse by tumbling off your semi-precarious perch, you jammed your hands out in front of you—
And slammed your palms directly on his chassis. It was all very fast after that. Mortified, you stared down at the planes of metal beneath you, feeling heat creep up, up, up your neck and seep into your face. Mirage had cursed above you out of surprise, and you felt the displacement of air as his servo shot up behind your back and hovered. Right there. He was right there, and he always would be.
You raised your head and made eye contact, and you knew it was over. His optics were wide with surprise, and they searched your face for any expression of pain or discontent. They cycled once, seeing none, and then flickered down to your lips.
He was so done for. Something in his expression sagged at your proximity; in his field of view, he saw an alert stating that his internal temperature was rising beyond ideal levels, and he would have laughed if not for you. Finally. Finally. Finally. He was half-expecting this to be a dream, something cooked up by his fried processors that he would wake up from any minute now.
His servo was still hovering over your back.
“Can I—“
“Yes,” you said immediately in a sharp exhale — before he could even get the question out — and there it all went.
He surged forward like a flood from a dam, closing the distance between the both of you with a hungry rev of his engine. Explaining the logistics of it would sound silly; all you could do was go with the flow, just like every other time you’d ever kissed someone. All you knew was that it was satisfying, supremely so, and completely encompassing. Every sense was filled by him, and you realized with a kick of your heart that you never wanted it any other way.
Though your hand shook, you shoved past the fear and indulged in everything you had wanted for weeks, let yourself sink deep into that pit of want and refused to come up for air. Your fingers skated his curves and edges; you brought your palm up to the sharp angles of his jaw and smoothed it upward until it ran over the curve of his cheek.
He reacted to your touch like it was a live wire. Minute jerks of excitement ran through his frame, and when your hand rested on the side of his face, he tilted his helm into the kiss with barely restrained excitement. He was so careful, it made something inside you purr. That kind of caution was only reserved for something precious. You were precious. He couldn’t ever risk hurting you. Especially not by his own hand.
First impression was that his lips were far softer than you’d ever assumed. Pliable, hot metal pressed greedily against your mouth — more, more, more was a mantra echoed wordlessly between the both of you. The hovering servo came to rest on your back, pushing your front against his chassis as you shifted up on your toes to keep the angle of the kiss correct. Digits splayed against the planes of skin they found there, pressing down to feel your warmth — your heart slammed against your ribs so hard that Mirage could probably feel it against his palm.
With a hot flash, you wondered if the metal of his lips would bear the dent of your teeth from a bite. So you bit. It was more of a playful nip than anything, but the reaction you got was so instantaneous it was like Mirage had been waiting for it. Again, his engine throttled, the powerful rumble surging through you as his servo pinned you to his chassis. Against your mouth, his lips ticked up into a smile.
Air. You needed air. He let you pull away with no resistance, though his head did trail after your mouth for a moment.
You let your forehead sink down and rest against the top of his chassis for a moment; the condensation from your breath fogged the metal. Out of nowhere, manic giggles erupted from you. They shook your body incessantly as you rose and fell in time with Mirage’s heavy vents, your knees feeling weak and mind frazzled. From one kiss. One.
Laughter rocked his frame too, short chuckles of disbelief as his thumb rubbed circles into your back.
“Oh my god,” you murmured into the warm metal beneath you through shocks of giggles.
“Not exactly, but, eh, I’ll take it,” Mirage replied above you, and while he laughed at his own joke, you groaned and whacked him lightly with a palm. It wasn’t like he was unaffected though — far from it, in fact, judging from the steadily heating chassis beneath you and the tinge of static fringing his words.
“Bring me up,” you said hoarsely, twisting an arm behind you to paw at the servo on your back.
Without question, his other servo came up and curled under your thighs, hoisting you up so that his face was easier to reach. With most of your body now resting on his chassis and very much secured in his grip, you grasped his face in both your palms; he leaned so far into your touch with a shaky ex-vent that your noses almost brushed.
“Again?”
“Yeah, again,” he agreed, and this time you pulled him in, fingers hooking in some unseen seam behind his jaw as you crushed your mouth against his. Hunger, latent and now finally triggered, drove you closer, as close as you physically could, until your skin was starting to hurt from the random edges being pressed into it.
Curious above all else, you licked your tongue into the front of his mouth. The searing heat inside surprised you; it teetered on the edge of uncomfortable and reminded you very much of your computer at home when it ran for too long, with that special kind of mechanical stress and burning warmth that only came with overworked processors.
“‘S like that, is it?” he murmured into your mouth with a grin, his engine kicking up a notch and the vibration of his chassis hitting you very nicely right where you needed it most. You made some soft noise, half-gasp, half-groan, and hiked one of your legs up so it was bent at the knee, flattening your hips against his chest and fuck, there it was. The consistent rumble of his motor pressed a steady vibration right into your cunt over the seam of your jeans; a particular grind made you gasp and falter as you rolled your clit against the line of denim and held it there.
“Whoa-ho-ho! Heyyy, hot stuff, something feel good down there?” His voice was bursting at the seams with some rich kind of excitement; you breathed into his neck cabling as your hips jerked a little against his chassis. One servo pawed at your ass, clumsy with its eagerness, gripping and massaging the soft flesh it found there with intent.
Experimentally, his servo pressed down, pushing your pelvis down with it, and the pressure on your clit pulled a groan of satisfaction out of you that had his cooling fans sputter.
“Fuck,” you hissed through gritted teeth, and before he could say something stupid, you leaned your head down and pressed kisses to the delicate cabling of his neck.
A delighted noise rattled out of him, and his helm rolled back against the wall to allow you more access. Impatient, your kisses soon turned to bites, playful nips that tugged at the sensitive wiring and made his body jolt beneath yours like he’d been shocked. To your utter delight, you found that Mirage’s proclivity for talking extended to situations like these, too — noises streamed from his mouth as your curious teeth and hands worked over such a fragile part of his anatomy in ways that only a human could.
“Oh, Primus, babe, babe—“ he stammered out, and you lifted your head for just long enough of a window to allow him to swoop down and kiss you again, feverishly now.
Something thick and wet prodded past your teeth experimentally. For just a second you balked— and then remembered it was his glossa. His tongue. Yeah, you remembered that from your anatomy lesson; he’d stuck it out and pointed at it in a dumb way then, but fuck if it didn’t have your thighs tightening now. The hot biomesh probed your mouth, and it was so big you inadvertently drooled around it — but Mirage didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, you were pretty sure the spit dripping from your mouth around him was getting him even more worked up, judged by the way his digits tightened their grip on your ass.
You had been cold when you’d walked in that garage. Keyword there was had. Now your skin seared with a deep flush and steadily increasing heat; mindlessly, your hips started a slow, staccato rhythm that kept your breathing heavy. The servo on your back slid upwards to the point where it encompassed the back of both your neck and head. He could not get enough of your taste. He wanted it burned into the sensors on his glossa, for all he cared. Spit and lubricant swapped between the both of your mouths — you found that the metallic taste that seeped into your tongue did nothing but turn you on further.
Pulling away again for a deep inhale of air, you propped yourself semi-awkwardly on an elbow to look at him. Open adoration was written across his faceplates, along with blatant want that made his optics cycle frantically.
“I thought you were— fuck, I thought you were supposed to be drying me off,” you said, breaking in the middle of your sentence as his servo carefully started to move you. Just barely — just enough pressure to keep your hips working against him and chasing your pleasure.
“You really wanna?” He grinned at you, spit shiny on his chin. “I dunno about you, but I think I’m likin’ you being wet more.”
“You’re awful. That was terrible,” you laughed, brain foggy with arousal and general swelling affection for the bot underneath you.
“How many more of those you got left in you before you start admitting the truth that I’m the funniest bot you’ll ever meet?”
“I mean, you don’t exactly have stiff competition.”
“Aaand the best-looking.”
“I dunno… Optimus is kind of—“
“Hey!” he interrupted, bringing you up for another kiss to silence your thought before you could finish it. You happily complied, laughing into the heat of his mouth and then moaning in the same breath as his servo ground you down against his rumbling chassis again.
Hot. You were getting really hot. The damp clothes sticking to your skin were not helping; in fact, they felt as though they were going to start steaming being pressed against your skin like this. Against your wishes, you pulled backwards again, bracing yourself against the warm vents that substituted for his collarbones. They cycled hot, dry air against your fingertips, though it didn’t burn. Not yet, at least.
“Mirage,” you breathed, and that got his attention immediately. “…Are we fucking?”
“Please,” he instantly replied, so eager that it made your cunt throb. His enormous blue optics watched you with such intent that it almost made you want to shrink away from the scrutiny — but you steeled your resolve. You had him, and you had him right where you wanted. Opportunity of a fucking lifetime. You were not about to waste it.
You glanced down for a reprieve from the eye contact. “Fuck,” you swore softly, staring at the metalwork beneath you for a few heartbeats before shaking your head and glancing back upwards at him. “Okay, well— I— Okay. Let me just— do this—“
Hands shaking slightly, you balled your fists in the hem of your work shirt and wrestled it up and off you; the damp fabric lingered and peeled off of you, which made Mirage’s motor throttle powerfully underneath you. Other than that, though, you got no reaction, which made all that heat in your abdomen cool rapidly into a dense ball of abject horror.
Oh, you made a mistake. This was too much, you were too alien, too different—
The servo not supporting you against his chassis slid around from the planes of your back to your front, and you gasped sharply as he did the same fucking thing that drove you insane the first time, however many days ago. His thumb, warm on the palm-side, gently passed over the peak of your chest. His optics narrowed in on the indent in your soft flesh his digit created. Nerve endings in the trail it left behind sparked.
“Oh, you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” he said reverently, voice steeped in a combination of awe and victory.
Oh-kay! You sucked a deep breath in, a litany of responses running through your head. The boost to your ego was very much appreciated, and it helped lighten the sinking mass of worry that had formed in the pit of your stomach.
Mirage nearly groaned when you placed your soft palm atop the junction of his digit and the heel of his servo. “Do it again,” you decided on, and that worked damn well.
As his servo groped at your chest, he leaned in, tucking his face under your jaw. To accommodate, you tilted your head up and away—
Only to swear into negative space as he very much returned the favor from earlier and began carefully sucking the world’s biggest hickeys into the skin of your neck. Breaths came harsh and choppy as the expanse of his glossa, hot and spit-slick, laved over the gentle bites he worried into your skin with his denta.
“Ah, Mirage, Mirage,” you breathed; every mention of his name spilling from your bruised lips made his circuitry heat just a little more. It was so much all at once — his servos were so broad that their expanse covered huge swaths of skin at once, and his mouth on such a sensitive part of your anatomy wasn’t helping either. Your hands clawed for purchase against his helm and the back of his neck. One palm flattened as much as it could on the back of his head, trying with all of your laughable human strength to bring him as close as possible. The other ended up cradling the side of his head, your thumb brushing over the audial disk there. With no small amount of wonder, you watched the plates of his back ruffle at your touch.
Mirage wasn’t trying to be weird, but he could die happy so long as he had the taste of your skin still registering on his glossa. It was more addictive than any high-grade he’d had back home by leagues. That human flavor of salt and skin and some kind of sweetness had his processors thrumming at maximum capacity; you made his mouth flood with lubricant, a fact you could corroborate by the amount that spilled over your bare sternum. The feeling of his own spit sliding down your front between your bruised breasts made the muscles of your abdomen twitch. Fingers shaped like claws now, you pressed weak kisses against the smooth curves of his helm wherever you could reach.
Your jeans were just getting in the way at this point. The minute shocks of pleasure you derived from grinding your clit against the inseam were just that — minute. You needed something more now or you were going to get frustrated, and you’d dealt with enough sexual frustration over the past weeks to be very sick of that feeling.
“Oh, fuck, okay— Mirage,” you said breathlessly, giving him a light tap on the side of his helm to get his attention. Reluctantly, he pulled away from your chest, optics dimmed with pleasure. They cycled once and returned to their full brightness as he cleared the fog of arousal — barely — away from his processors.
“All systems go, sugar?” Static hissed underneath his words.
You tried and failed to stifle a snort of a laugh. “Corny ass,” you mumbled, although you were absolutely close enough for his audial sensors to pick up on it. He made a sound of indignation, but you pushed forward regardless. “I, um, I need to get these off.” Hooking your thumbs in the waistband of your jeans to emphasize your point, you glanced up at his optics again.
Blankness for a second. Then it registered. “Oh, right, right, of course, haha! You, uh, want help? Or you got it?”
“I think I can manage taking my pants off,” you laughed. “Just— let me sit on like— the top of your chest, there we go,” you instructed, and the hand under your ass pushed you up until you were turned around and seated on the lip of the top of his chassis. For a second, you wrestled with the denim — still not fully dried — but you managed to kick both your jeans and your shoes off. They were thrown somewhere in the direction of the door. God, you were so glad you locked it.
Underwear went next. There was a beat of hesitation — for what, you weren’t sure — but like you’d done so often as of late, you just ignored your trepidation and worked the elastic down your legs. A laugh barked out of you when you lifted the fabric up and saw the downright ridiculous wet spot that stained the gusset.
“Jesus Christ, look what you did to me,” you said with a faux accusatory tone, holding your panties out for Mirage to inspect. Two digits delicately took them from you; he held them up to his face, so close that it made you blush from sheer embarrassment.
“Wow. You weren’t kiddin’ ‘bout all the wet being in one spot, huh?” He examined them with no small amount of fascination, much to your mortification.
“Mirage! Put those down, oh my god,” you said, covering your mouth with a choked noise.
“What, I can’t admire my work?”
“No you can not.”
Mirage pouted at your denial, and mumbled something about you being no fun, but he still lifted you off his chassis regardless. Like he was helpless to your draw, he pulled you in for another kiss, though he couldn’t stop his mouth from wandering. Down, down, down, until his nose was nestled in your chest and he spoke into the soft flesh of your stomach. Shaky ex-vents tickled the damp skin there.
“Shit, baby, tastes so good,” he mumbled, and you were impressed by his ability to sound completely sex-drunk without even having done anything yet.
Your hips rolled against nothing; they bumped into his neck cabling and the top of his chassis fruitlessly, and a noise of frustration eked out of you. Mirage seemed to get the memo and pulled you away. Your body was brought down until your ass was sat firmly on his hips — his interface panel nestled right in front of your dripping cunt — and your back was leaned up against the flat support of his thighs; his knees were tucked up and his pedes placed firm and flat on the floor to give you the most stability. Fumbling for a second before you found somewhere to place your own feet, the enormity and absurdity of the situation brought more of those breathless giggles to your mouth that seized your chest and shook your shoulders.
Toootally breaking Hynek’s scale here. So beyond abduction. Way beyond abduction.
A few careful digits slipped around your knee, wormed their way between your legs. “Can I—“
Your thighs fell open without a word.
What had made you fall for Mirage the hardest was his motormouth. He never stopped talking; he always had something stupid to add, something to pitch in with, some silly joke to crack. There was a lightness he teased out of you that even you didn’t expect. But now? Now, for once, he was speechless. It made uncharacteristic shyness flare in your gut and heat your face as he studied your very bare, very human form with slightly parted lips and enormous optics.
His body caught up before his mouth did. The servo on your knee slid over it until it gripped your bare thigh; he watched the flesh shift back and forth under his touch with no small amount of fascination.
“Is it— it’s okay?” Your voice sounded very small. It was a special kind of insecurity to be faced with.
“Oh, yeah, it’s okay. It’s cool, you’re just— just different. A lot different.” He jiggled your thigh again playfully.
“Good kind of different though, right?”
“Very good.” To punctuate it, his engine snarled again, seemingly in response to the drool of your cunt on the hot metal of his interface panel. “Primus, you look good, babe. Shit.”
Ego boost! You smiled. Any other partner — any person — and this would be too much, this position too unflattering, your everything too open… With Mirage, though, it just felt like it always did. Easy.
One of your hands rested atop the servo still holding onto the meat of your thigh. The other slid down over your shining chest, passed over your stomach and pubic mound, and brushed past wiry hair, shiny with slick, in order to slide a finger up your folds. A whine ripped its way out of you at direct contact with your clit after mere heavy petting, and you couldn’t stop yourself from drawing tight circles with your fingers and twitching your hips forward to eke out more of that delicious pressure.
The servo on your thigh dug into your skin. Mirage’s vents became far heavier at the open display of your arousal; it has always been him vying for your attention. Now that it was the other way around, he wasn’t sure if he could handle it. Transfluid was seeping between the seams of his interface panel, joining your own fluids in a shiny pool that sent sparks up his struts. He made you like this, made you so wet you dripped, made your clit swollen enough to be visible, made your cunt tight with heat and Primus, he needed you on his spike so bad, he thought he might die without it.
He verbalized these thoughts with an unintelligible noise of adoration.
It was enough encouragement for you to slide down from your clit and venture two fingers into yourself. Zero friction. They glided. Christ, when was the last time you were this wet? You’d slept with a handful of people, especially in your first couple years of college, but you’d never been soaked like this. Mirage’s cooling fans choked at the sight of your fingers vanishing into you. His thumb dug into the crease of your thigh and hip as he leaned just a little closer to watch.
Very little time passed before it devolved into your fingers working inside your walls, crooking against that one spot that made your breath hitch and hips jump. Mindlessly, you ground against your palm, catching your clit on the heel of your hand with a sweet moan that nearly shorted out his processors. He had to hear that again. Without thinking, he moved his servo over, resting the digits on your lower stomach and gently, gently nudging the heel of your hand out of the way to replace it with his thumb.
“Ah!” spilled from your lips at the insistent, broad pressure of his thumb, and your hips jerked against it, working your fingers that much deeper. Tears pricked at your eyes from pure sensation. “Mirage, mmm, just— just rub, up and down— or circles, just move, I don’t ca—are,” you floundered, the last word breaking as he did as he was told, carefully sliding his thumb up and down on the bead of your clit and sending twinges of searing pleasure up your spine.
You found quickly that just your fingers weren’t enough. Not when the reminder of his servo lay heavily on your lower stomach, tips of his digits digging into the soft fat there insistently. Although you were loath to part with your hand, you pulled your fingers out with a sigh. Mirage froze, optics flicking to your shiny hand as you spread your fingers, examining the strings of fluid that connected them with a far-off feeling of pride.
“Sugar, you’re killin’ me here,” he groaned, and you saw, for one endearing second, a puff of actual steam rise from the vents near his shoulders as he ex-vented harshly.
“Okay, well, here,” you said, unable to come up with anything clever with the purr of arousal in your cunt fanned by the heat of his interface plate and consistent, maddening rumble of his engine. Your hand, still shiny and wet with your fluids, grasped the top of his servo and gently pushed it downwards, until the tips of his digits rested against your drooling entrance. To fight the whimper that threatened to claw its way out of your throat, you nearly chewed a gash into the inside of your cheek. A gasp of an in-vent jolted his frame in awe.
“You sure? I mean— it’s cool?” His flustered stammering was so damn endearing; supreme affection for him swelled in your chest.
“I’m sure. Just— just go slow.” His adoration was fueling your bravery. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you; if he did, it would never be intentional, and it would never be something he couldn’t fix.
He paused for a second before remembering the position of your own hand and flipping his servo so it was palm side up; you dragged a large enough breath in to balloon your lungs fully at the sight. Anticipation danced in the burn of your spread thighs. For a few seconds, it was just exploration; his digits slid over your silky folds, collecting the gathered slick with minute trembles. One delicious slide all the way up from entrance to clit had you gasping. Mirage silently thanked Primus above that your whole set-up was similar enough to his valve to know at least some of his way around it. It was just hotter. Wetter. Softer. So much softer.
“‘Raj, just— fuuuck,” you groaned out, your head rolling back as the tip of one digit sank into you, soon followed by the rest as it slid all the way to the base. Stars flickered behind your eyelids. The width matched the two fingers put together you’d just pulled out of yourself, though the texture was so wildly different to anything you’d ever put up there that it made your brain stutter for several moments as your nerve endings processed the feeling. The individual ridges and articulations of his knuckles dragged against the silk of your walls in a way that pulled the breath right out of you; your chest rose and fell rapidly with shallow breaths as your thighs twitched.
You were a mess. Mirage was in love. “Holy shit, baby, I get you this bad?” It was only partly teasing. “l— fuck, a second one good?”
“Good, yes, please.”
All thoughts were wiped clean from the forefront of your brain with the addition of a second digit. Slick noises and the sound of dripping fluids landing on metal and concrete filled your ears over the steadily climbing racket that Mirage’s entire body was making — his cooling fans competed with his engine to make the most noise, over top of the typical whirs and clicks that came with his motion. You couldn’t look, could only feel with your eyes squeezed shut as Mirage pumped both digits in and out, in and out, in and out. One arm was thrown up behind you, hooking loosely around his knee to ground you somewhere. The other was occupied: your hand clutched his wrist like a lifeline, white-knuckling it even as your sweaty palm slipped over the metal cuff. When his thumb returned to your clit, swirling clumsy but eager circles on top of it, that only contributed to the tight, hot coil building in your gut.
Mirage had half a mind to pop his interface panel right then and service himself, because the sight of you, shining with sweat and slick with his spit as you rode his digits, was almost too much to bear. The plush folds of your cunt, tight with arousal, were so soft against the hard planes of metal that comprised his servos; the contrast was short-circuiting him. Under his paneling, his spike was already pressurized. Had been for what felt like hours. Your ass was beginning to slide back and forth just a little due to the transfluid collecting underneath you; the rippling motion of your flesh was driving him insane. As were your walls, Primus, your walls that sucked greedily around his digits as they glided in and out of the tight ring of muscle that made up your entrance.
Your name left his lips in a groan that was an octave too high to be suave. The thought of your cunt clamping down on his spike — so soft, so hot, so wet — like it was doing on his digit had his hips rolling against nothing, working fruitlessly for friction they weren’t getting.
Sweat collected wherever skin touched skin. Condensation fogged wherever skin touched metal. The combination of his digits stretching you, curling in you when he realized what a dramatic reaction it incurred, and his thumb working your clit was getting to be too much. Heartbeat roaring in your ears like the rain outside, you clawed a grip into a seam in his leg and jerked your hips against his servo with breathy noises and gasps that you certainly wouldn’t be proud of later. For now, though, all it did was fuel Mirage’s ego and go straight to his spike.
Almost there. You were almost there, grinding your way towards it, sweat beading on your hot skin—
He pulled out. He pulled his digits out. A keen tore out of you at the loss of feeling, tears springing to your eyes as the hot edge you were so fucking close to fell away, your hips working unconsciously against a servo no longer there. With a gasp of a breath, you wrenched your eyes open, blinking away the collected tears and nearly baring your teeth at the bot beneath you — until you saw what he was doing.
In utter astonishment, you watched as the digits that were just inside you slid into his mouth, peeks of his glossa flashing as it worked them clean.
“Oh fuck,” you said before you could stop yourself. One of your hands slapped over your mouth; you tasted sweat and metal. His optics slid to you, lidded and cycling frantically as he processed your taste. A harsh ex-vent slumped his shoulders — the servo not preoccupied with his mouth clutched your hip like you were something precious.
“Sugar,” he breathed, static grating on the word. “Fuck, c’mere.”
Servos hefted you up, and you clutched onto them out of instinct as he helped you up to his face. Without thinking, you lunged forward to kiss, your tongue seeking out his glossa and tasting yourself with a resurging thrum of arousal. He cut it short, though, ignoring your protests as he cupped your ass in one servo and held you aloft.
For a second, you stared at him in confusion. “What are you—“ Then it hit you. “Oh.” Your heart rate skyrocketed.
The grin stretching his faceplates was downright devious. “Hang onto something, wouldja? Not that you’re gonna fall. Just want you to enjoy the ride.” A short, heady chuckle rounded out his words.
“You’re insane— oh!” Your lighthearted scold was immediately interrupted by the press of your hips against his face and the slide of his slick glossa over the entirety of your sex. “Oh my fuck!” sobbed out of you as your upper body jackknifed over his helm. One arm curled around it with clawing fingers; the other slammed, palm flat, against the concrete wall.
A groan of satisfaction rumbled into your cunt as the taste of salt and sweat and girl bloomed on his glossa — just like earlier but so much stronger now. The proud line of his nose bumped your clit for a second before his glossa followed, narrowing so he could flick at it experimentally. Lubricant spilling from his mouth mixed with your own slick and ran down his chin; his cooling fans sputtered and spun weakly for a second as he pushed up further against your hips, malleable mesh drawing shapes between your clit and your hole.
Your fingernails scraped against the wall as your hips jerked of their own accord; the edge stolen from you earlier had very much returned, and the feeling of his faceplates sliding over the plush, soft skin of your inner thighs was doing something terrible to you.
“Mirage, ah, ah— I’m— fuck, fuck!” Broken syllables and curses streamed from your lips as a substitute for real words. When he closed his lips around your clit and sucked, it was over. It was so quick, embarrassingly quick. The orgasm that had been building suddenly snapped free and tore through you like a fucking hurricane, leaving spasming muscles and a wonderful endorphin afterglow in its wake. As you sobbed out his name, he slid two digits of his free servo back into you just to give you something to clamp down on, and it made tears spill down your burning cheeks from pure stimulus. Mirage drank you; he wanted nothing more than this, to swallow you down and leave your taste buzzing on his glossa like high-grade. Several thundering heartbeats later found you hunched over his helm as his glossa continued to work lazily against you, forcing twitches out of your thighs from pure overstimulation.
“Okay, okay,” you managed to croak, voice hoarse from weeping moans and boneless from what was probably one of the most insane finishes of your life. You tapped out weakly on the side of his helmet. Reluctantly, he pulled your pussy away from his face and cradled you in both servos, one noticeably damper than the other, in front of him.
His chin was shiny with you, his grin wide and completely self satisfied, and his optics dimmed with pleasure. If you were being honest, he’d never looked better, but in your frazzled state you weren’t sure if you had the capacity to string together enough words to form a compliment.
“I gotta say, compliments to the chef,” he hummed, and you stared at him, words not processing.
“Did you seriously— you just gave me head and that’s what you’re gonna say?”
“Uhh, yeah, babe. And I meant it.”
A genuine laugh shook you. “Oh my god. Ohhh my god. Okay. Well, put me back down there, you corny fuck,” you said with a gesture back at his hips.
“Oooh, keep sayin’ that. I’ll start thinkin’ you mean it.” Your body, errant trembles still running through it, was set carefully down back near its original position. This time, you sat in something closer to a straddle, back straight instead of leaning.
The garage air had gone from temperate and warm to fucking scorching. Outside, the rain droned on, occasional rumbles of thunder sounding so far away that they may as well have not been real. Your entire world had been compressed down to one point — a gravitational singularity in this garage, crushing space and time down until only bricks and concrete stood between you and the oblivion outside. All you knew was living metal and Mirage’s voice, trembling with excitement and fuzzy with static, and that was all you wanted to know. His chassis was making so much noise that you probably, under any other circumstance, would have been concerned; if he blew a gasket fucking you, though, you would wear that with pride.
Pure adoration reflected right back at you from his optics as his servos settled on your hips, his thumbs stroking your slick skin. Any concerns he had about Prime’s reaction to you, or to this — well, maybe not to this specifically, but to the both of you being together — were completely null and void in your presence; the reality of your soft weight in his lap was enough to short out his circuits.
Your hands slid down from the cooling fan in his abdomen spinning at maximum speed towards his soaked interface panel; glancing up at him demurely through your lashes, you spoke.
“You gonna let me return the favor?”
“Huh?” He broke out of his reverie. “Oh, right, um— yeah. Yeah, please.”
A smile crawled over your face at the reminder that despite all the poetic words you could come up with in your head, Mirage was still, and always would be, Mirage. Dazed already, he ran the subroutines to open his interface panel. Machinery shifted with a few clicks, and there was a hiss and an outpour of steam as his spike swung up before you, clearly aching for some kind of touch.
You heard more plates shifting lower, too, and out of curiosity peeked downward; something slick glowed lower down, but the nervous shifting of Mirage’s hips and his closed thighs obscured it from view.
Probably better to just focus on what’s in front of you. Your eyes roamed the length of his array first, your mouth going dry just at the size of it. It was bigger than any toy you owned, anyone you’d slept with, and bigger than his digits, too. Still, though… what were humans if not persevering?
And flexible?
You wrapped a hand around it right below the tip, and a full shudder lanced up Mirage’s frame; it was so thick that there was still space between your fingers and thumb left over. Transfluid, milky in consistency but pearlescent pink in color, spilled from the flared head. Curiosity overtook you, and you swiped a thumb up to catch an errant bead of it as it trailed down the side. The fluid was semi-oily, and smelled… fairly innocuous. Metallic, sure, but that came with the territory.
The array itself was as impressive as it was pretty. Like everything else about Mirage, it was fancy, mostly chrome with blue striping up the sides that led to a fully blue head. The biomesh it was made of — similar to his glossa — gently throbbed with alien pulses as you stared at it. Oh, that was hot. Why was that so hot?
Exploration in full was rewarded with soft noises spilling unbidden from Mirage’s lips, his hips twitching uncontrollably as you carefully slid your hand down from the tip to the base in one fluid motion, feeling the transfluid slick under your fingers. “Mmph, I— ah,” he choked out through gritted denta as you observed him.
Oh. Oh. The realization of the power you held over the big mech made a special kind of arousal thrum through you. Another slow pump had his hips jerk up once and a servo clamp over his mouth.
“This was not included in your anatomy lesson,” you said pointedly, a cheshire grin on your face as you hovered dangerously close to his spike. It throbbed in your grip, working another bead of transfluid out of the tip.
“Oh shit, babe,” he groaned, rolling his helm back against the wall. “Uh— hands— hands-on learning?” he offered weakly, unable to focus on anything other than the soft, damp skin of your palm around his spike.
He made the mistake of looking down as you let spit drool out of your bruised lips and spill over his spike for additional lube, and he snapped his optics shut to avoid from a spontaneous overload right there. The noises he made as you slid your tongue over the head were pitiful.
“Fuck, baby, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he hissed, spinal struts clicking as they arched. Primus, was he seriously about to overload in your mouth? Your lips closed around the head and sucked lightly, and he yelped. A servo shot out and carefully grabbed your shoulder, though the tremors running through his digits told you of the restraint he was barely employing. A string of spit and transfluid connected your mouth to his spike as you lifted your head, and he had to force himself to look away for a second with that same servo clutched over his mouth to keep steady. “‘m not gonna last like that, you— can we just—“
“Fuck?”
“Primus, yes.”
“Yeah, we can. I guess.” Despite the leap of excitement in your stomach, you rolled your eyes.
“Don’t even start with that, c’mon,” he said fondly, one servo supporting you as you lifted yourself above his spike and stared down at it with no small amount of trepidation.
It looked a little more manageable from above, but working with something the size of your forearm would cool anyone’s heels, even if there was slick drooling down your inner thighs. Mirage’s servos settled heavy on your hips and you braced yourself on first his knees behind you, then his wrists as you tilted your pelvis to align your entrance as best you could. You sank. The head pressed insistently against your hole. Relax. Relax. Relax.
A deep breath filled your lungs, then whooshed out, deflating your shoulders. Unable to help himself, Mirage inched one of his servos over and ran his thumb through your folds, rolling over your clit and jolting your hips enough to slip the head inside. A long sigh of “Fuuuuck.” was all that managed to come out of your mouth, your toes curling at the stretch and then the pop of the flared head sliding past your entrance.
Mirage’s entire frame trembled. His vents became shallow and sharp, and the tips of his digits clamped onto the soft meat of your hips desperately as the sensors on his spike reckoned with the realization of just how wet and warm humans really were. “Babe, babe, babe, shit,” he stammered out. “That’s— um, fuck, that’s good!” A weak laugh escaped him as his chin sank down to his chassis, cooling fans hiccuping from stress.
“Hold on, just hold on, I can… shit.” Sweat-dampened palms slid off his wrists for a second before you resituated yourself and leaned back a little, letting your upper back rest against his tucked up thighs. Whatever you were doing worked, because you sank further, and you thanked whatever god was listening that you’d already finished once, making your body quite boneless and that much easier to maneuver.
Mirage, on the other hand, was as taut as a fucking bowstring, made helpless to his own pleasure and completely powerless to you. His optics first scrunched shut, unable to look at you for fear of overloading at the sight of you finally on his spike; then they flew open at the realization that he wanted this burned into his visual processors forever.
Your skin shone with sweat and lubricant; rivulets trailed down your body like a visual pointer to your slick sex, nestled within wiry hair and stretching so beautifully around his spike that it tore an honest-to-Primus whimper out of his vocal synthesizer.
“Mirage, I need you to— mmnh, fuck, I need you to just touch— please,” you gasped, his spike punching the air right out of your lungs. Although your words were broken, he seemed to get the memo, and despite his minute tremors, brought his thumb back to your clit and pressed down. Just the surface area alone made you sigh and roll your head back in pleasure, and it loosened you enough to take him right up until the head nestled against your cervix and your ass brushed his hip plating. There was maybe an inch or two left, but you felt immense pride at managing to work most of his spike in — and immense pleasure, too. If he moved his thumb at all, you were done; you were so fucking full you could barely breathe, and you felt the slow, rhythmic pulses of his biomesh throb through you.
Mirage had never been one for restraint. He did things all-in, one-hundred-and-ten percent, all with a flourish to top it off; the feeling of the hot silk of your walls flexing around his spike just sitting there was enough to quite literally kill his cooling fans via a micro-short in an attempt to divert more power towards keeping his hips still. Senseless praises streamed from his lips, voice whining and roughened by static fuzz. “Yes, yes, yes, sugar, Primus, that’s good— feels so good, please, can I move, please,” he fumbled, jaw slack and optics flickering with the power surges cascading throughout his frame.
“Just— let me start,” was your response, tears pricking at your eyes, and although Mirage groaned pitifully underneath you, he listened.
You had a fair amount of experience with riding toys, and you knew what felt good; the lightbulb above your head became apparent. A shift in your position pushed further weight to the back so that the ridges and nodes of his spike pressed insistently toward the front — though, to be fair, it pressed everywhere — and oh, fuck, right there. Now shoved against that sweet spot inside you, the pleasure teetered on the edge of pain, and you dragged yourself up with a vicious grip on the seams of his thighs behind you. Mirage whined and shifted his hips just slightly; it was enough to pull a moan from your lips as you slid upward. Thick, sluggish droplets of slick swirled with transfluid oozed down his spike. He watched — it was all he could do — with an open mouth and rapidly cycling optics.
The flared head caught against your entrance; a spike (ha!) of pleasure lanced through you. “Okay, now, you can— help me, please,” you stammered out, dizzy with pleasure already and feeling a loopy kind of open-mouthed grin situate itself on your face.
Your words were all he needed. Although he desperately, desperately wanted to snap his hips up and chase the vice-grip of your slick walls, he’d rather take on Megatron alone with his servos tied behind his back than risk hurting you. Especially while interfacing. He did not want to have to explain that to anyone.
Thumb slowly working your clit, his servos gripped your hips just a little too tight and assisted; you could feel the tremors lancing up and down his arms as he helped you establish a rhythm. At a word, the dam would break, but for now, you maintained tenuous control over the mech and over yourself as you rode him with his help.
Well. Rode was a strong word for it; he all but dragged you up and down the length of his spike, earning each of you luxurious groans from the other, but your quivering thigh muscles assisted as best they could. Heat surged through your body at the drag of his nodes against your walls, and you realized with a hot flash that Mirage was going to fucking ruin you for anybody else, and you liked that. Which was good, because he could have stayed buried in your cunt for the rest of his life and offlined happily just like that.
It was good. It was really good. But even the overwhelming stretch wasn’t enough. Just like earlier — it seemed like light years away now — when you’d still had pants on and hadn’t been completely lost to metal-on-skin debauchery, the grind of your clit on the seam of your jeans had been good, but not enough. Your fingers clawed at his wrists. The burn of your thighs from exertion seared through you, mixing with the jolts of pleasure from your clit to create some new, terrible monster that had you twitching with shameless ecstasy.
“Mirage, Mirage,” you croaked, as he slid you down his spike again and pushed it into your lungs, “I’m— fuck, please, faster, please, please.” In any other scenario, your begging would have immensely embarrassed you; now, though, it seemed like the only viable option to get him to fuck you like you needed him to.
“Shit, baby,” he hissed, and you gasped as he kept moving you, legs jerking uselessly. “You— fuck, you sure?”
“Yes, please, just— oh, fuck!” The cry — and the air in your lungs — was knocked right out of you by a single desperate snap of his hips upward, his spike driven straight home. Your entire upper body crumpled forward, kept upright only by a tenuous grip on his wrists, and then he really started fucking you, and you were gone.
His cooling fans surged back to life as he slammed into you, power no longer diverted towards holding the actuators of his hips back. No, now he was fucking jackhammering into you, and you were barely moving as his spike pistoned in and out of you, slick drooling from your cunt. Like he remembered himself, his thumb began to work furiously against your clit, and you rewarded him with a gasp and more than a few uncontrollable moans of his name, which only served to fuel him more.
Not like he was being quiet, either. You were glad that the building was solid brick and the rain continued to pour outside, because the amount of noise coming from his chassis and spilling from his lips was worrying. Praises and broken mentions of your name streamed from him; he tossed his helm back against the wall with his optics squeezed shut to keep from overloading prematurely. It was too much— it was way too fucking much. Your poor overworked cunt was nearly bruised with sensitivity, barely able to keep up with the stretch of his spike as the nodes pulsing along it raked that sweet spot inside of you mercilessly. Neither of you were going to last long; not your fragile human body nor his torqued-up frame could handle much more of this.
Every sharp thrust paired with the frantic, messy circles he pressed into your clit brought you viciously closer and spilled tears from your eyes. All you could really do was hold on as Mirage wrung pleasure from both your body and his. Impossibly, his thumb worked faster, his pace got even more brutal, and you were almost seizing from pleasure as your nerve endings were frayed raw. That peak was building in your gut, that familiar tight coil of heat, for the second time that night, and you knew it was going to completely destroy you, and you wanted it to.
Without warning, Mirage spread his knees apart, slammed his pedes flat on the floor, and thrusted up. His spinal struts arched again to get his spike that much further inside of your yielding body, his overload imminent and warning signs flashing in his optics’ periphery. “Fuck, yes— yes, baby, yes, yes, ah, shit!” His frenzied whine rang in your ears as steam from his vents heated the air around you; the only thing that rang in your ears besides your thunderous heartbeat was the heady slap of skin against metal, everything slick with your combined fluids.
You responded in kind at the new angle with a cry of his name and some noises that resembled words, but the way he sheathed his spike inside you — fuck, was it all the way in? — and ground his thumb against your clit was too much— too much— you couldn’t—
You shattered. Doubling over from pleasure, you sobbed incoherently as your climax slammed into you. Pleasure crackled through your veins like lightning; a fog of pleasure dulled your senses until the only thing you could focus on was his spike pulsing in your cunt and his thumb still grinding against your clit. Tears pricked at your eyes, joining the ones already wetting your cheeks, as jolts of pleasure lanced up your spine. Maybe you moaned his name, maybe you didn’t. You couldn’t tell.
Mirage went soon after you, because the feeling of your walls clamping around his spike as if trying to suck him in impossibly further did him in instantly. His optics snapped open wide before slamming shut and he cried your name as the best overload of his life wracked his frame; the actuators of his hips trembled violently, along with his servos, as transfluid gushed into you and was immediately forced out by the pure lack of room inside your cunt. Engine snarling, cooling fans nearly spinning off their axles, he held your hips as flush to his as possible while the both of you rode out your respective climaxes, twitching around each other violently. Minute jerks of his hips attempted to work more transfluid inside of you. Brain still wiped blank with pleasure, all you could do was make soft noises and let the aftershocks spasm through you.
Consciousness eventually came back to you in gritty waves. Mirage had set your body down, leaned back against his thighs, his spike still seated within you but depressurizing slowly. Transfluid seeped out of your puffy folds, and you lifted a shaking hand to collect some of it and taste it. Metallic. Like you’d expected.
Enormous vents whooshed through his frame as he attempted to cool his chassis; coolant dripped from him, some of it turned to steam by the pure heat of his internal mechanisms. Body shaking and feeling very small and human, you stroked a thumb over his wrist where you held it, feeling both its ambient warmth and a surge of affection. And satisfaction.
You were absolutely going to feel this in the morning, holy shit. Thank God you didn’t have work tomorrow.
Mirage eventually came back down to earth, his optics cracking open and cycling a few times before they flared to their usual brightness. Lids heavy and a dopey grin on his face, he carefully lifted you off his spike — it slid out of you with a slick noise that made you flush — and brought you up to face-level. With one servo, he held you tight against his torso; he planted the other flat on the floor and resituated his hips so he could slump down further against the wall, his entire frame lax.
Self-satisfaction beamed at you from his faceplates. “Oh, that was good, huh?”
You scoffed, too tired to get riled up at his teasing; you knew he was feeling the same as you. “Yeah, pretty good. I don’t know if I’ll be able to walk tomorrow, to be totally honest.” An exhausted laugh left you.
“Gonna count that as a win.”
“You… do whatever you want.” You waved a limp hand at him dismissively, letting the rise and fall of his chassis with his vents rock you.
“Well, then, I wanna do this,” he purred, and brought you in for a kiss that communicated all his smug affection without any of his stupid jokes. You returned it gratefully, a smile on each of your mouths as you basked in that pleasant post-sex glow.
The rain still droned outside. A boom of thunder rolled through the building; the lights flickered. Both you and Mirage glanced upward. His optics slid back down to you first.
“You thinkin’ about going anywhere in this weather?” he asked, raising a brow ridge.
“I dunno, do I have a ride?”
“Nah,” he replied playfully, kissing you again, and you found that it could storm for the rest of your life, and you wouldn’t really care. So long as you had your favorite — yes, your favorite, not that you could ever admit around him — to keep you company.
#mirage rotb#mirage x reader#transformers rotb#transformers x reader#mirage x you#valveplug#tf mirage#maccadam#nsfw////#transformers#rise of the beasts#i wrote this entire thing on my phone in like 4 days so excuse any spelling mistakes LMFAO#doq.fic
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"Oh! That's What That Does?!"
All art by @archie-sunshine
G1 Rumble/ Mechanic Reader - 2400+ Words
NSFW, Valveplug, Plug 'N Play, Mild Sparkplay, Accidental Stimulation, Edging, Human Reader, GN Pronouns
Ahh, the inherent eroticism of repairing your machine.~ I've had this one cooking for a while, so I hope you all enjoy! I've also gotten pretty attached to this mechanic Reader, so they'll likely pop up again with other cassettes (and maybe even some other Decepticons!)
NSFW WRITING AND IMAGERY BELOW THE CUT!
“Ey… EY! Careful wit’ dat! It’s touchy!”
“Rumble,” You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You're making this way more difficult than it needs to be.”
“I wouldn't be complainin’ if you'd stop touchin’ all up on bits that don't gotta be touched! Rootin’ around in there like I'm one’a your crappy organic machines!”
Removing your hands from Rumble’s open chest, you tossed them roughly into the air. “Y'know what? Fine. Do it yourself. Better yet, get Frenzy to pull the shrapnel out of your chest. That'll go great.”
You would have slid off of Rumble’s lap and stormed off, if not for his massive servos closing around your wrists with an unexpected delicacy. Your efforts to remove your hands only reinforced his grip, using just enough force to keep you from leaving without crushing your wrists entirely.
“H-Hey, no need ta be so hasty! Look, I’m just steamed cause'a the battle, dat’s all. Frenz’ can't do dis, it's gotta be someone more… dainty. Y’know. Little human hands and all dat.” The harsh glow of his visor had dulled slightly as his gaze cast down to your hands. You rolled your eyes, wrists finally slipping from his grip as you settled back in.
Dangling wires and sparking shrapnel dotted his open chest cavity, illuminated by the light of his spark chamber. Rumble had staggered off-balance into your workshop whining about the prodding pieces of broken metal keeping him from transforming properly, yet you’d barely managed to get two wires back in place before he started squirming and whingeing and slinging verbal abuse at you.
Not that you weren't used to it, any interactions with Rumble and Frenzy usually involved some level of bullying. Fortunately, the two cassettes are also incredibly predictable. As soon as you would threaten to take away or withhold what they're asking for, they’d start falling all over themselves with apologies and placations. After all, you may not have been the only mechanic in the area, but you were certainly their favorite.
“Are you going to actually let me work? Or are you going to start yelling at me again?”
“Yellin’? Who's yellin’? Yer the mechanic here, my spark is in your squishy little hands. Do your magic, doc.” He sat back again, servos clutching the edges of your workbench in a show of effort, a genuine attempt to keep them still (or however genuine any show of rule-following from Rumble could be.)
“That's what I thought. Now let me actually fix a few things before you start whining again.” Your gloved hands dipped back into his chest cavity, skirting the edges of his spark chamber to pick away at the bits of loose shrapnel stuck in some of the wires. His frame shuddered, a hiss of steam escaping through his dentae as your knuckles brushed the underside of the spark casing.
“C-Careful,” He said again, with significantly less bite to his tone.
“Does it hurt?”
“Somethin’ like dat.”
“I'll be careful, so let me know if it gets to be too much.” You smoothed a palm down the armor covering his stomach, flinching back when you heard another sharp hiss of steam.
“I’m fine! It's fine! Just… do ya gotta be all on top’a me like dis?”
“I can't reach properly if you're laying down. If you're standing you might keel over on me, and I really don't feel like being squished to death today.” He let out a low grumble as you jacked another cable back into its proper port. “I'll try to be quick, that way you won't have to worry about my ‘human germs’ and you can get outta here. Deal?”
“Yeah, yeah. Just-”
“Be careful. I know.”
And with that you went to work, separating and organizing cables, taping off leaky tubing and removing pieces of scrap metal as gently as you could. Every once in a while Rumble would jerk or twitch beneath your touch, letting out a muffled curse or huff but sparing you from his usual complaints. It was… uncharacteristically quiet, for sure. This was the most extensive repair you'd ever done on him, though, so maybe he was just having surgery jitters.
“Okay, I've gotten most of the shrapnel out. But there's a piece right behind your spark casing.”
“Well? Get it outta there!”
“I'm going to, but I need to get my whole hand in there. I'm warning you now because it's going to be bumping up against your spark casing a lot. I'm going to do my best but you have to tell me if it hurts too much.”
Rumble let out a long, pathetic groan. “Actually doc, maybe you can just leave dat one in there? F-For funsies?”
“Eh?! Rumble, I’m not gonna just ‘leave it in there’! It's gotta come out.”
“Something's gonna come out if you keep proddin’ around in there like dat…”
“What was that?”
“Gh! Nothin’! Don't worry ‘bout it!”
“...Okay. I’m gonna start now. Are you ready?” Rumble only responded with gritted dentae and a tense nod. Working your gloved hand under his spark chamber, you could feel the ambient energy making the hairs on your arm stand on end as you felt for the jagged edge of broken metal. Your glove blocked your view entirely, so you were left blindly groping your way up the metal surface, feeling for anything bent or out of place. When your fingers could no longer reach any further while still avoiding the casing, you slid forward and ducked slightly into Rumble’s open chest, the back of your hand pressing up against the underside of his spark chamber.
CLANG!
You jumped, and if it weren't for Rumble’s arm wrapping around you and almost crushing you into his open chest you may have jostled the sensitive chamber even further. You slid your hand back again, easing off of the reinforced glass, and his grip receded.
“What the hell was that? And what was that clang?”
“I said don't worry ‘bout it!” He hissed, voice glitchy with static. “Everythin’s totally normal, I dunno why you're getting all jumpy ‘bout- MMNGH?!” You moved your hand up again into the same position, and Rumble let out an embarrassingly high whimper. You glanced up at his face, a flush of pink behind the usual grey and beading with coolant… and something clicked.
“Oh my God are you getting off on this?”
“N-No!”
Behind you you heard a sharp snikt, and the sound of pressurizing hydraulics.
“...Maybe?”
“Jesus fucking Christ.”
“H-Hey, don't go gettin’ a big head or nothin’! A bot’s spark chamber is sensitive! Don't go thinkin’ this is cause of your squishy frame or your soft little digits or nothin’!” He seemed to almost shrink in on himself, face plate practically glowing as his shoulders pulled up around his helm. You'd never say it to his face, but he looked surprisingly… small, at this moment. You heaved an exhausted sigh.
“Okay. Okay. I'm going to get this last piece out, alright? It's the last one. And whatever happens while I'm doing that..? It just happens. We won't bring it up again, no need to be embarrassed. Deal?”
“‘Deal?!?’” He squawked, positively scandalized. “How do I know yer not gonna gossip with Frenz’ the next time he's in for a tune-up?”
“Well Frenzy usually never lets me get a word in edgewise, first of all.” You huffed. This was way more than you'd signed up for. “I'm not going to make fun of you, Rumble. Let’s just get you patched up, then you can head home. Okay?”
His mouth was pulled into a tight, wobbly frown as he glanced down at you, choking out a single word. “...Promise?”
“I promise.”
“...Slag. alright, let's get dis over with.” He lolled his head back against the table with a clank, resigning himself to his fate. This time, when your knuckles brushed his spark casing, he couldn’t stifle his soft moan. Your fingers felt further and further up, until almost your entire hand was behind the glass bubble containing his pulsing spark. Finally, you could feel the jagged piece of metal. You wrapped your fingers around it and gave it an experimental tug. It stuck fast, and your hand bumping against Rumble's spark only pulled another surprised moan from him.
“W-Watch it!” He yelped, sounding too fucked-out to come across as actually threatening.
“It's really stuck in there. I'm going to start working it out, so let me know if you need me to stop.”
“Wh… workin’ it out? Whadda ya- ohhh…~”
With your thumb and forefinger gripping the edge of the broken metal, you began to wiggle it gently back and forth to ease it from the plating and wires around it. Each time you moved the back of your hand rubbed up against the far side of his spark chamber, warmth radiating through your glove as Rumble started to vent more harshly.
“Slag… slag! Don't think it's ever been touched back there before. Feels… feels crazy.” He moaned. The metal of your work table shrieked and crumpled like cardboard under his iron grip, desperate to keep his servos off of himself or, Primus forbid, you. The piece stuck firm, and as you braced your other hand against the outside paneling of his chest to readjust your balance he let out a sharp, staticky yelp. “S-STOP!”
You froze immediately. “Are you okay? What's wrong?”
A few shuddering vents were your only response for a moment, Rumble’s visor lights flickering frantically as he tried to steady himself. “Whooo… Almost blew my top for a second there.”
“Seriously?”
“Hey! Yer the one that told me to tell ya if I need ya to stop! I'll be slagged to the Pit before I let some ‘squishy’ run my charge like dat.”
“...Can I start again? I’m making some progress here.”
“...Y-Yeah. Yeah. Yer good.”
You let out another soft sigh, trying to focus on the rhythmic sktch sktch sktch of metal on metal rather than Rumble’s shivering whines. His vocalizer pitched and warbled with static, attempts to stifle his own words slowly giving way to a deluge of fucked-out babbles.
“Ah! Gh! Ohh, mmnh, stupid little hands feelin’ all- nnh!~ Jus’ get it outta there! Please?”
I’m working on it. You’re doing good, just hang in there.” Your placations only resulted in another desperate moan. After what couldn’t have been more than another thirty seconds or so, he blurted out again.
“Ah! Stop!”
You retracted your hand for a moment, letting Rumble gasp for breath above you in a futile attempt to cool his core. You rubbed at his chest paneling as he shivered beneath you hard enough that you thought bolts were going to start coming undone. Even the paneling you were seated upon was burning up, heat seeping through the fabric of your coveralls. His glowing face plate was slick with coolant. Without thinking, you reached up and swept away a bead of it with your thumb, making him jump.
“H-Hey, quit dat…” He groaned, all bite lost from his tone.
“Rumble… The more you keep stopping me the longer this is going to take.”
“You think I don’t know dat?!” One of his arms draped dramatically over his face. “I’m tryin’! But you just keep pokin’ around in there and it’s all touchy and it’s makin’ me feel like my spike’s gonna burst and I can’t take it anymore!” He sniffled. Could Cybertronians even sniffle? You weren’t sure, but he sounded close to tears.
“Rumble… Have you ever actually edged yourself before?”
“Whu- Whuh? How’s dat any of yer business?”
“I’m just thinking…” You ran a placating hand down his shivering plating. “If you haven’t it can be really overwhelming, and-”
“I can handle it! I-I can!”
“Let me finish. It can be really overwhelming, and I don’t want you to hurt yourself further. Just… take a deep breath for me, okay?” You took a slow, steadying breath, and after a second he mimicked it. “Good. Just think about letting go, okay? I’m not going to judge you. Just think about it.”
He let out a low, pitying grumble, peeking at you from behind his arm plating. “...You can start again.”
Once again, your hands dipped into his chest cavity. Only this time you slid both hands up behind his spark casing, gripping as much of the broken metal as you could reach. As you rocked it back and forth Rumble’s moans returned with a fervor, one servo finally flying to cup your lower back.
“Ah! Ah! Slag, oh slag please! Please don’t stop I’m so fraggin’ close.” He fisted the back of your uniform, crumpling the cheap fabric between his digits. “C’mon, c’mon c’mon c’mon I need it!”
“Shh, I’ve got you baby. Just let it happen.”
With a metallic shriek and a gush of brackish oil the shrapnel popped free, the force enough to send you sprawling if not for Rumble’s servo in the small of your back. Of course, said unexpected force also slammed the backs of both your hands right into the underside of his spark chamber, and Rumble’s voice box screeched into a wail of radio static. Something hot and sticky splattered up the back of your coveralls; said something you decidedly were not going to look at until later. His frame rattled and shivered beneath you, steam venting and joints glitching and spark pulsating a near-blinding glow. Finally, after a burst of noise and sparks and twitching, he went slack beneath you, helm clanking against the workbench as his optics flickered.
As delicately as you could, you removed the oil-slick shrapnel and let it clatter onto the floor before shedding your gloves and dabbing at his face plate with the cuff of your sleeve. With the whir of an old monitor blipping back to life, his visor blinked back up to its standard brightness.
“Whuh… Wheh?” He garbled.
“How you feeling, hun?”
“Like I got struck by lightnin’... but in like a nasty way.”
You choked back a snort. “Well, I’ve got all the worst of it over with. Feel free to rest for a while if you need it. I’m gonna go change my jumpsuit.”
He let you slide off his lap without a fight, not even commenting until you’d turned around to make your way over to your office. Only then did he let out a low, salacious whistle when he’d finally caught sight of the back of your uniform.
“Comm me next time yer free, doc. Then I can repay da favor.”
#transformers#valveplug#transformers x reader#rumble#transformers rumble#rumble x reader#transformers imagines#g1 transformers#my writing#long post
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My most recent chapt of my fic went up a couple weeks ago and @themaskismyface commented an idea that induced this bought of ‘no thoughts only draw’ lol.
Quoting from comment:
…I can imagine him (Megatron) struggling to understand all the online recipes and simply just kidnap Gordon Ramsay, either to teach him how to cook or to be a temporary chef in the Nemesis.
Ramsay's gonna be terrified for the first few hours but I imagine they'll end up in a screaming match over what and what not to put in your food…
#transformers#tfp transformers prime#tfp#transformers x reader#megatron x reader#thank you#i was possessed with a need to draw this#i have no explanation#scarlet ties#nothing like this remotely happened in the chapter#but wouldn’t that be a fun sidequest#tfp megatron#megatron
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Like and reblog if you agree with this:
#genshin impact x male reader#genshin impact x gender neutral reader#genshin x male reader#genshin x gender neutral reader#my hero academia x male reader#my hero academia x gender neutral reader#mha x male reader#mha x gender neutral reader#demon slayer x male reader#resident evil x male reader#resident evil x gn reader#transformers x male reader#Transformers X GN Reader#x male reader#male reader insert#male reader#x gn reader#gn reader#gn reader memes#male reader memes#x trans male reader#trans male reader#x transmasc reader
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First Contact brainrot😭❤️ ft. Rodimus since i see him very often in this au.
(another self-insert <3)
#transformers#transformers headcanons#transformers x reader#digital art#small artist#art#mtmte#transformers mtmte#rodimus#mtmte rodimus#yandere transformers#procreate app#tailgate#michaela o writings
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#I haven't updated all the transformers 2021~23's yet but i couldn't help posting this#cod#call of duty#call of duty imagine#cod imagine#mw2#mw2 imagine#König#könig imagine#cod könig#könig x oc#im into cod recently#könig x y/n#könig x reader#2023's
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Hello! I’ve always been curious about the “human in a space shuttle somehow ends up on a cybertronian ship and all the bots are trying to figure out what this random metal this is while the human is terrified” plot.
It would be interesting to see it played out with any character, but for the sake of direction, I’d like to request this with the Lost Light Crew?
It could be vore if that’s what you feel like wrong at the time, but I’d also go for some good ‘ol fearplay.
I apologize if this is too vague, have a good day/night and I love your writing!
Thank you for the request Glitch! I hope this is up to your expectations! I hope you don't mind that I picked specific members of the Lost Light crew to include in this story. Feedback is always appreciated! Have a great day/night as well! :D
Doctor’s (And Scientist’s) Orders
Pairing: IDW Ratchet, IDW Perceptor, and IDW First Aid x Human Reader
Word Count: 3115
Summary: You are a teacher who is being sent from Earth to a colony on Mars. A new life as an educator for the red planet’s children is on your horizon…until you are thrown terribly off course and end up in the bowels of the Lost Light. All seems lost for you when you find yourself injured and cut off from human society, at the mercy of the three Cybertronians who end up finding you and taking you in, whether you want them to or not.
The first thing you hear when you come to is the horrid screeching of your ship's alarms.
You groan and sit up. Smoke and flickering emergency lights greet you when you open your eyes. Electricity sparks from the stasis tank you were asleep in. Gas spurts from the ceiling, and everything is strewn about with the chaotic air of a tornado that just tore through an entire town.
“Warning,” your ship’s AI urgently alerts. “Breach detected. Damage is collateral. Warning-warning-” It sputters and fizzles out.
You rub the back of your head and feel something warm and sticky coat your palm. When you pull your hand back to take a closer look, you see blood.
Shit. That’s not good.
Standing up makes you feel like you are going to puke. Your head throbs and every breath you take sends piercing pain through your chest. Dragging yourself out of the stasis pod takes longer than it should while black spots dot your vision as you stumble to the dashboard and press your hands against it. “Run ship diagnostics,” you manage to rasp. The voice that struggles to exit your mouth is one you hardly recognize. It is thin and strewn with violent coughs. A metallic taste coats your tongue. More blood.
The AI glitches as it attempts to answer you. “Severe damage to hull. Severe damage to engines. Severe damage to thrusters. Life support online, but rapidly depleting. Escape pod offline.”
“Shit,” you breathe. “Try contacting Earth control.”
“Communications systems offline. Attempting self-repairs. Current status…5%.”
“How long until repairs are complete?”
“Estimations indicate repairs will be completed in…5 days.”
Not good. Not good at all. You push yourself away from the dashboard and take in all that has happened. This was not how the mission was supposed to go. When you were chosen to be sent to Earth’s Mars colony as a teacher for the young children growing up on the red planet, you thought it would be a smooth seven month trip with you peacefully slumbering away in stasis. You were supposed to be woken up by fellow human beings, not a devastating crash resulting in your ship being decimated. Something must have thrown you off course. A freak asteroid strike probably. Which begs the question…where exactly are you?
Ignoring how much pain you are in, you hobble through the remains of the vessel and head for the airlock doors. They remain tightly shut when you make it to them, hiding the knowledge of where you are from view. “Open the doors,” you call out to the ship.
“Warning. Remaining onboard is strongly recommended. Current exterior environment is unknown.”
“Override. Open the doors.”
The doors whoosh apart. You know there’s oxygen outside. If there hadn’t been, the ship would have prevented you from even entering the airlock chamber in the first place. Stepping off, you expect to see the barren landscape of Mars, or the alien environment of some other planet you might have ended up on. Part of you thinks you might still be on Earth; perhaps something went wrong with the ship before you could even break the Troposphere.
What you see surprises you. You are in some sort of…massive cargo hold.
Gigantic metal crates surround you, most of them exuding a pinkish glow. There are lights on the ceiling far above you, but they are dim, and serve little aid in giving you an estimate of just how large this place is. Turning in a circle, you feel awe fill you. “Yeah,” you murmur to yourself. “The ship definitely didn’t crash on Mars.”
Speaking of your ship…you take in the damage. It's an absolute mess of warped, crippled metal doomed to remain collapsed on its side until self-repairs are complete. It would take days, maybe even weeks, for damage of this caliber to be fixed beyond the communications systems. With no way to contact Earth or Mars, you truly are stuck.
You close your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose. Calm. You are calm. There is absolutely nothing to worry about. Yes, your ship is destroyed. Yes, you are suffering from critical wounds. Yes, you are in an unknown place with seemingly no way out. But you're alive. That’s what matters. And now you just have to survive for five more days.
You hear thumping in the distance.
It takes you a moment to register the pattern of heavy steps that are coming towards you. It’s something alive, you realize with dawning horror. Wherever you are, you have obviously made quite a racket, and now this planet’s local faunal residents are going to seek you out. There’s no way for you to know exactly what sorts of animals live here; any technology you might have used to your advantage is directly connected to the ship. With the ship offline, thus go the tools as well. You are completely in the dark, relying only on the little information about alien lifeforms you have to keep you safe.
You don’t need that information to know you have to hide right now.
You scurry back into the ship, biting back a shout of pain. God, there’s pain everywhere. How have you not passed out yet? Adrenaline does wonders for the human body, you sourly think to yourself when you have to lean against the wall to catch your breath. A hacking cough swells within your chest. When you cover your mouth with your elbow and release it, blood is splattered over your suit sleeve.
That’s when you hear the growling.
It’s unlike anything you have ever heard before. You’ve studied a multitude of animals. You’ve heard big cats roar, wolves howl, hyenas cackle, and birds screech. This is not a growl you can associate with any of those. It…holds similar qualities. But there’s something about it that remains blatantly off.
It sounds strangely like the growl of a machine.
You look outside of the airlock doors, and something huge lumbers out from behind a stack of crates. The first things your brain registers are its red and white armor platings, its bright blue eyes, and the horn-like finials extending from its forehead. It’s humanoid, yet possesses qualities that remove it from any such grouping. This thing is definitely not like you in any sort of way beyond having a face and walking on two legs.
“It’s…a robot,” you whisper. It’s a giant fucking robot moving all on its own, and looking none too happy to be here.
The mechanical creature snarls, lips upturning to reveal sharp canines that are probably longer than your arms. It hasn’t noticed you yet. Its focus is trained on the datapad it holds in its hands. Your mind is blown. This is obviously a member of a clearly intelligent race. Have you just discovered a new extraterrestrial species?
The robot looks up. At first, its eyes scan the crates around you, and it doesn't seem to notice the little ship nestled between them. You remain still, prey instinct taking its course and demanding you freeze where you are. Hopefully it will just move on…
It backtracks, and to your utter horror, it makes direct eye contact with you.
Fucking shit, you think.
The robot stares at you with an expression of pure shock. You stare right back with an equal amount of terror.
It steps towards you. That’s all it takes for you to scream at the ship. “Close the airlock doors! Close them now!”
The doors slam shut. You hear a shout from the robot, and everything shakes as it thunders forward. You stumble and fall with agony ripping through your poor body when you make contact with the floor. The cry that leaves you is riddled with pain.
“A-Activate self-defense protocol!” you order the ship.
“Self-defense protocols offline,” it says back.
“Well, how long until they are online?!”
“Estimated time equals…ten hours.”
“That’s not enough!” you scream rawly.
A gentle tapping echos from the other side of the doors.
You push yourself back, heart pounding as you listen to the robot move all around you. It’s growling softly to itself, and you can hear it touching the ship, running massive mechanical fingers across the walls that act as the only barrier between you and potential doom.
You don’t know what to do. Panic makes you frantic and you desperately try to think of how you can get yourself away from the monster outside. You have no way to defend yourself. You can’t even run. This thing wants you out, and you know it has the power to rip your ship apart in order to get to you if it wishes for it.
Suddenly, everything rocks. Your stomach drops when the entire ship shakes and you feel it being lifted into the air. Realization of what is happening hits you: it’s picking it up. If it can’t get you, it’ll just have to take everything.
“Nononono!” you cry out. The ship tips a little, and you slam into a wall with a grunt. “Stop!” You bang your fists against the metal. “Put it down! Put it down now!”
The robot simply growls in reply. You don’t even know if it hears you. There’s nothing you can do to stop this. You slump back and cover your face as hot, helpless tears finally begin running down your cheeks.
“What exactly is it?” First Aid asks as he peers down at the mangled hunk of metal sitting before them on the medibay berth.
“It’s a ship,” Perceptor flatly replies with a silent “What else would it be?” evident in his tone.
“This is a ship?” First Aid looks horrified. “But it's completely destroyed! How could it have gotten here?”
“It must have crashed during our last refueling.” Perceptor lays his servos over the top of the ship, examining it closely. He huffs and straightens, looking at Ratchet. “Where did you find it?”
“The cargo hold,” the medic replies. “I was down there searching for some extra medical supplies I know we have stored. I wouldn’t have seen it if it hadn’t been for what’s inside.”
“There’s something alive in there?” First Aid gasps.
“A human,” Ratchet replies. “It locked itself inside when it saw me.”
“Impossible.” Perceptor shakes his helm. “Humans are an endangered species that only occupy a small sector of a primitive solar system. They don’t have the technology to make it this far out in space.”
“Well, clearly they do. I know what I saw. These old optics aren’t that far gone.” Ratchet raps his knuckles gently against the ship. All three mechs have to lean in close so they can hear the soft squeak from inside.
“How do we get it out?” First Aid asks. “It could be hurt!”
“It is hurt,” Ratchet answers. “I saw it before it hid itself away. I don’t know how severe the injuries are, but I know it's in pain.”
“Then what are we waiting for? We need to help it!” First Aid presses his forehelm against the ship and whispers softly. “Hello, little human? Please don’t be afraid! We aren’t going to hurt you!”
A whimper is all he gains in reply.
Perceptor crosses his arms. “I can force it out, but you won’t like how I do it.”
“You can’t hurt it,” Ratchet sharply snaps. “That would be cruel.”
“I’m not going to hurt it,” the scientist bites back. “I’m simply going to pump a nontoxic gas into the ship that will cause it to eventually lose consciousness. It will have no choice but to come out, and then we can go on from there.”
“Are…are you sure?” First Aid wrings his servos nervously. “I don’t want it to be scared of us.”
“Whether it’s scared of us or not doesn’t matter,” Ratchet says. “It’s injured, and if we don’t do something, it’ll succumb to those injuries. It’ll understand we don’t want to hurt it after we patch it up.” He nods to Perceptor. “Go ahead, smoke it out.”
The scientist’s right servo transforms into a syringe. Ratchet watches with anxiousness churning in his tank as Perceptor presses his left index digit against the side of the ship and presses a small hole straight through with little resistance to stop him. A terrified shout from the human within causes First Aid to whimper.
Perceptor sticks the upper part of the syringe into the hole, pumping gas into the ship and pulling it back out after a moment, wisps of vapor trailing from the tip. A few seconds later Ratchet hears a string of weak coughs from inside. There is a tense moment where all three of them stand there, and then the doors open and you stumble out with a cloud of gas nearly enveloping your tiny form. You wheeze into your servos, then notice the mechs staring at you and try sprinting right back into the ship. Perceptor cuts you off, slamming his servo down and pinning you under his digits before dragging you back even though you yelp and thrash. You squirm one last time in his grip before suddenly going limp.
Perceptor gently shifts you to lie in the center of his palm. For a terrifying moment, Ratchet thinks you are offline when he sees how still you are with your optics closed. But then his sensors pick up on the rapid beating of your organic spark, and he relaxes. Not dead. Just simply unconscious.
“Give it here.” He holds out a waiting servo. Perceptor hands you over; you are given a quick look-over as Ratchet scans your body. There is a nasty cut on the back of your helm, and your vents are gravely bruised with terrible red marks. “Internal bleeding,” he mutters. “As well as external wounds. The crash really messed it up.” He curls his digits lightly over you and brushes his thumb over your forehead. “Doesn’t have a fever though, which is good. Damage is minimal, nothing life threatening. I can have it fixed in a few hours.”
“You know how to heal organics?” First Aid questions.
“I’ve been around for a long time. War changes you. I’ve had my equal share of saving Decepticon-ravaged planets inhabited by organics as well as machines.” Ratchet walks over to another berth, being careful not to jostle you too much. “First Aid, go grab the restrainers. We’ll have to keep it still so it doesn’t accidentally hurt itself when it wakes up.”
“You’ll have to keep it sedated too,” Perceptor says. “I can help with that. Just a little puff of the gas will keep it asleep.”
“Thank you,” Ratchet says, then pauses. “Listen. Don’t tell anyone about this yet. I don’t want everyone flocking into the medibay and stressing it out. We could accidentally scare this thing to death if we aren’t careful.”
“I won’t.” Perceptor nods. “Just…make sure it heals properly. I don’t doubt your expertise, but…” He looks down at you, and his optics soften. “It hurts my spark to see something so small in so much pain.”
First Aid returns with the restrainer. It’s a small mechanism that runs on magnetic power, created by the Lost Light’s resident mad scientist, Brainstorm himself. Ratchet places it directly over your lax form. With a quiet beep, it presses lightly over your midsection, and magnetic bindings weigh down your ankles and wrists. Seeing you trapped like this makes him feel guilty. This obviously isn’t going to be something you will like when you wake up. But there’s no other way for this to go. You won’t understand his good intentions until he heals you. Until then, he has to keep you still.
He grabs a small serum of glowing blue liquid and bends over you, gently pinching your little fleshy cheeks and working your intake open. “C’mon little one, drink up,” he whispers when he carefully forces the liquid down your throat. He sees your faceplate tighten with discomfort, but your throat pulses as you subconsciously swallow. “There you go. Good human, good human.”
“What are you giving it?” First Aid asks.
“Something I learned to make back in my early days,” he replies. “It heals from the inside. Works on both organics and machines.” He pats your cheeks praisingly and draws away. “There. That should help with the bleeding. It’ll be fine now. I’ll continue to monitor it over the next few days.”
First Aid exhales a relieved sigh. Perceptor reaches out a tentative hand and brushes your hair away from your closed optics. “It’s so small…so soft…”
“We have to be careful with it,” First Aid frets. “We don’t want it to break.”
“Listen.” Ratchet’s tone hardens authoritatively. “I said this before, but I’ll say it again. We have to keep this between the three of us. Don’t tell anyone about a human being in here.”
“But what about the captain?” First Aid asks. “Shouldn’t he know?”
“The captain can’t know. If he finds out there's a human on the ship, he’ll go nuts with excitement and probably end up accidentally crushing the poor thing. Until I confirm it’s not going to drop dead at any moment, we keep it a secret. Got it?”
Both bots nod. Ratchet nods with them. “Alright. I’m going to stay here and make sure it’s condition remains stable. You can come back tomorrow to check in on it and see how it’s doing.”
Perceptor dips his head and leaves without another word. First Aid lingers, optics never leaving you.
“It’ll be fine,” Ratchet reassures him. “I’ll take care of it. Go recharge.”
It takes a lot for the other medic to step back and exit the medibay. Ratchet watches him go, then sighs and drags a servo over his faceplate. Becoming the caretaker of an injured organic lifeform was not something he had planned for today. Primus, how the hell am I going to tell Rodimus?
A soft noise drags his attention away from the alarming thought of what might happen if the extroverted captain learns about his new “crewmate.” He looks down at you and startles a bit. Your eyes, foggy and unfocused, are staring right at him. There’s a fatigued expression of utter terror on your face that once again has his spark feeling like it's been ripped from his chassis and stomped on.
“You’ll be okay,” he whispers to you. “I promise.”
You close your eyes and let your helm loll to the side. Ratchet watches the soft rise and fall of your chassis for a few moments longer, then dims the medibay lights and returns to his previous work on the other side of the room.
Never do you stray far from his mind.
#gator writes#gator requests#transformers#transformers idw#ratchet x reader#perceptor x reader#first aid x reader#transformers ratchet#transformers perceptor#transformers first aid#idw ratchet#idw perceptor#idw first aid#transformers x reader#reader insert#mtmte#more than meets the eye#lost light#lost light x reader#mtmte x reader#maccadam#transformers g/t#first contact au#transformers first contact
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the girl (6)
okay her is 6 I know its longer but I a struggling on remembering how the movie went. if you find any clips from the movie that would be great. I am also struggling on keeping this story simple but complitacted as well.
chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5)
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I went from left to right. up and down. I haven’t felt this free in a long time. I landed on a random roof. I don’t know how but I found reek car. I can spot that vehicle thing from anywhere. My green bag on the grounded. Digging though, it contents I found my walkie talkie. When it gotten in my hands, I put my green bag on my back. I twist though the channels until I heard reek
“There you go. let that breathe fill you up.”
I kind of blur out the conversations. When you are here a door and a groan. I knew he was in. now how do I get it.
I pull out my binoculars and look that building up and down. I saw that there was a car garage. There were gabs for between each level. I can go through them. on the 3rd floor there was a person that was staring at me. I would of ignore them. I if I didn’t see a hint of yellow. I twisted so I can zoom in more. It was her again. the lady from the clinic. it may have been dark, but her eyes I would never forget. They were literal stars. she pointed southeast form where she was standing. Looking at where she was pointing, it was a building that was a row under here. I would like to do a Mario super jump across, but this is real like not Super Mario world.
“We are in the mix.” said Noah.
Well looks like I am taking that route. Looking back, she wasn’t there. I jump across and donkey Kong barrel roll on to the small platform know as a roof. I saw exactly where she was. I am going to have to super jump across. Walking all the way back. I tug at my straps. Just to make sure that they were tight.
“You can do this sliver.” Said Apeling.
I closed my eyes. Trying to tune out all the doubts. Once I open my eyes and began to run across, I knew there was no turning back. as soon my foot left the ground. I just jump. I was going up for a moment my panic didn’t start setting in until I started falling.
“Push your foot down.” said a voice that was 100% not Apeling.
My body reacted on its own. foot pushing down I was going up again. my hands landed on the concrete. Breathing in and out calming my nerves. Looking at my hands and realized I was hanging on to the right floor. Pulling myself up was all I had to do. I pulled myself over and lay on my left side because of the backpack.
Once my whole body felt the cold ground. I want finally calming down.
“Apeling who was that?”
Apeling stayed silent. I want to find answers but it’s going to have to wait. I saw Noah on the other side of the room. He was getting in a sliver Porsche. I need to get to him quickly and save him from make a mistake. I speed walk across. Pulling my green bag putting it in front of me. I put my hand on the door handle. It began to glow green like they did with Apeling, door was open and my bag in my lap.
“Sliver what are you doing here” he whispered still trying to jump start the car.
��Saving you form going to jail.”
Before that argument can continue. A spark came from the radio and It began to chant.
“Calling all autoboots.”
Noah was tapping the radio trying to get the radio to go silent. Once he sat in the silence. Gears are turning in his head.it was my turn.
“Noah you are no thief. I know you are desperate for money, but this is not the way.”
After his breathing calmed down. “What am I doing?”
I heard reek talking in his ear.
“I can't.”
I heard more mumbling. The only clear word I got from that conversation was stick.
“I ain’t no thief.”
That right Noah. Don’t do the wrong thing for the right reason. Then the radio came back on.
“This is an emergency can you hear me mirage?”
He sounds so familiar. Made me go somewhere
I can't tell what was happening it was like my dreaming with Apeling and Scourge. But the land looks different. This place I was at was completely metal. No grass, no trees, not even a flake of dirt. Just solid metal. Then there were these beings that look like scourge but way friendlier. they had different colors and shapes and sizes. It’s a whole race. I saw this bot that was I guessing a 10-year-old with how she was drawing it was good but kid, like. She had a yellow skin (That the best way to explain her outer shell.) she had a splash of black. Her and there. hear eyes were the color of Periwinkle. Not too blue and not to purple just perfectly in the middle. I see her jolt up looking at something. closing her journal and walking away. when I followed her. there 3 taller bots were playing monkey in the middle. Keeping something from a smaller kid.
“Leave him alone.”
the game was stop.
“Well look who we have here. Another thing to play with.”
As the taller bot came closer. Two of them were left in the back. still holding the thing in the air.
“Please give it back to him.”
“What are you going to do cry to your carrier? Oh, wait you don’t have one.”
“You don’t want to find out.”
This kid was pushing my patience.
“Like what.”
He pinches her check like a grandma dose to their grandchild. She grabs that knock him off his feet then bend the arm behind his back and her foot was on the center of his back.
“So, you didn’t have to get taking down by girl. that is also smaller here side.”
“Breakdown and knock out get here.” The other bullies. We’re doing what their leader wanted to do.
I have a few surprises for them to find out. the blue bucker one came to me. when he was close enough, she kicked a pencil under his foot. Made him fall forward. I was lucky enough to move out of the way. Just enough for the blue one to land on his buddy. red one was standing with his fist up.
I stared at him. waiting for this noob to do something. knock out was throwing punches but he misses her each time. I twisted my feet under him when he looks like he had enough. He flops on the floor next to his pals. Walking away like a cool chick. She grabs the object started all of this. Bringing it over to the monkey. That stood in middle of room.
Handing it back, “I think this is yours,” He took it from my hands.
“T-T-thank you.”
“No problem. Let’s get you out of here.”
“okay.” dude was differently shy. They were walking away. the victim had his box, the yellow girl held drawing. They both were going their separate way.
“w-wait.” They began to look at each other but this time in the eyes. Bright blue eyes looking at these violet blue eyes.
“what’s your name?”
“Shooting Star. yours?”
“Mirage.”
The scene that was in front of my eyes twisted. Like water landing on a picture. Them having the swirls
“Mirage.” I whisper softly.
“Sliver lets go.”
Noah went to open the door. but the locks when down.
The security guard spot us. Noah went down and I pulled the lever to lean back a bit.
Noah was yelling back at the security guard. I look at the radio. Knowing there was more than meet the eye with this car.
“Mirage please do what you need to do.”
I saw the stick shift move and the car was staring to move.
“Buckle up Noah.”
Once. I readjust my seat and the buckle clicked.
“What you are doing.” Knowing he was asking the car more than me.
“He is taking us away.”
“how do you know?”
“I’m Sliver, I just know.”
Noah was freaking out and calling for reek.
“Reek can't save you now.” I said and rolled down the window enough to feel the wind on my face.
“How do I make it stop. This thing is possessed or something.”
then the lights came. Reek was saying something about how, he can't hear Noah.
I grab the mic. “You’re a coward reek.” I scream in the mic. I toss the mic in the back.
Now reek lost most of my respect. Noah was freaking out left and right screaming like a little baby. then trying those breathing techniques. For as much comfort as I can I grab his hand and held. Come on mirage lets go.
“How you not freaking out woman?”
“I trust this car.”
“How?”
“Would you believe me, if I said my gut said so.”
When we look away when the car was drive up a tower car ram. And the way Noah is screaming I am differently losing my hearing aid. When mirage step on his breaks. To do a sideways stop. The cop car on its side. a semi-truck mashed into the police car. Noah kept start to calm down.
Looking at the car radio. “Nice idea with the ramp but can't say I liked what happen to the cop.”
I look out the window. is that a beam of light? Did E.T. land?
I heard Noah repeat the word drive on repeat when more cops began to come.
“Please drive Mirage.”
That started the car. Now here we go again another police chase scene.
“The bridge.” I saw his brain working.
“Take us to Williamsburg.” We both said together.
This car thing drove to the bridge. Only one cop was on use now. He kept bagging his bumper. The car turned and we began Driving backwards. We were staring at the cop.
“Turn on you lights and flash him.” I yell.
“Now that you are flashing him. you can do whatever you have to turn around.”
Like on command. He began twisting parts. And the cars got turn around to the front. He transforms.
Why does this feel so normal and how am I okay with this.
“Come in. Come in. Can you hear me mirage.”
“Optimus prime.” I whispered.”
“Who that?” said Noah.
Looking back at him I thought I said low enough that he couldn’t hear.
“I will explain later.”
Looking up. I saw the White semi-truck. An idea. Came in my head.
“Go in front of the semi-truck and do what every trick you are thinking.”
It listens to my commands. When he was in his spot. He duplicated himself with me and Noah in the fronts.
Our Noah and sliver on the left flip off the cops. The Noah on the right was smileing like crazy while me in the car was freaking out. the opposite of what we been doing this whole time.
“Mirage.” We both said.
The police officer pasted the taxi and saw 5 mirages. We heard a loud crash and turning around we saw the cop.
“I love this car.” I screamed.
“Looking up ahead if you go up 5 blocks then turn a right there will be an abandon warehouse.”
“How do you know?”
“When I am not hanging around you guys, I am here.”
“This is the worst place to hang out. “
“I know.”
Before this conversation could go any further. Mirage Releash Noah seat belt and literally toss him out. I unbuckle and jump out, but I had a softer landing.
The metal car was changing wheels. Turned into arms. While metal man dabbled on about how to follow orders and how he can't do anything fun. The last line about him never able to be a real boy. Made me giggled.
I quietly made my way to Noah. trying to get him off the ground. Noah kept his eyes eye on mirage.
“That was fun guys, you guys are fun.”
I looked back when I felt eyes on me, and they were not Noah’s. I wrap my hand around my purse strap. When I meet his artic blue eyes. Time slowed down. like it was only the two of us. This was an older version of the mirage in my flashback. Older mirage looks better than the child version. He kneels. Closer to our height.
“This probably a lot for you.”
Mirage said without taking his eyes off me. not even one second. I hear metal scraping across the ground. pushing mw behind him.
“Back up.”
I can't blame the kid for being scared, hell I’m scared, but I know being emotional would get you to think with fear, not rational wise. Being clam and asking questions would be the best route to getting answers. With out any violence.
“Easy now, I thought after the car chase, we were boys.” He began backing up.
“Are you going to hit me?”
“Maybe.”
After that response. Mirage changed his hand into a circle with a with a blue color. Kanda like a blaster. When Noah didn’t budge an inch. I back up a bit.
“Tough guy, I like it.”
He took his canon and changing it back to his hand.
“What are you?”
“The name is mirage.”
He put his hand in a fist pump.
“Come on little tap.”
after Noah did his awkward fist pump. mirage move his hand towards me. you bet I did a better job than Noah.
“See like that.”
We all turn around when we heard more vehicles.
“Oh, great the gang is here.” He said sounded bum.
When we heard other car engines. A yellow muscle car and a pink motorcycle. They began to change like mirage did a few minutes ago.
“Noah you might want to put toss that pipe, they might take it as a threat.”
He tosses the metal pipe when blue and red robot came through the garage doors.
The yellow one was using the radio. I think his name was bumblebee because the black and yellow.
“Well, well look who we have here.”
The pink motorcycle. Was doing somersaults. Then began to ask mirage what he has done.
“You brought humans here?”
“Optimus, hey looking good man.”
“You were told to stay hidden.”
Mirage was trying to explain that we were in the car with him when Optimus called.
for some reason dream land was pulling me in again it was the same metal world place as before. The same yellow robot was walking around like she was looking for something. Shooting Star was a lot older. She was in a golden building. she was holding a metal box thing. She was differently looking for something or someone. There was a random dull golden door. bolting it open without a second thought, she ran inside. The room had many racks of square devices on each row. They are the same size as the one in Star hand.
The racks reach the celling. This was a massive room too. The area around use was blurry again so it was hard to tell what was on the shelves. A red and blue bot was nearby. With other colored being. I saw Star face brighten up. she ran up and hug the red guy.
“Hey.”
“Hello little Star.”
It was Optimus the one that mirage was talking with earlier. He looked a lot younger then the moment
beforehand.
“Star I want you to meet two of my work friends. This is Arcee and Bumblebee.”
With them saying their hellos another robot came slowly into view.
“Hello to you all.”
“What makes you come here little Star?” ask the bot that just came in.
Now this one had a purple and red color scheme. I was getting a feeling that his name was Alpha Trion.
“I got an assignment and need to do some research; thought I can come and say hi before I start.”
“I can help you look for items to help your research. So, Optimus can finish helping these two.”
“Thank Alpha Trion. bye guys.”
While Star and Alpha left, I didn’t follow I was stuck with the other 3 for some reason.
“She doesn’t know about the war dose she?” ask Arcee
“No, she doesn’t.”
“She needs to know there is a war going on.” said arcee.
“Her carrier asked me in her final moments to let her live like a child, not solider.”
“it’s not just that is it?” ask Bee. This bee wasn’t using the radio. He was using his actual voice.
Prime stayed silent. If that didn’t give an answer, then I don’t know what dose.
“You might want to tell her the truth before it’s too late.”
“I will when she is ready.”
The scene was distorted like before and I was forced back to reality. When Prime pick us up, ‘saying not cool.’ he doesn’t look like the one in the flash back. he looks more mature. The other two look like they grown a bit as well.
“Who are you humans.”
“We are no body. We didn’t see anything I not see anything right now.”
Prime looked at me.
“Call me sliver.”
When he was not happy with either answer.
“Arcee.”
when the white and pink female came to us and scan Noah face.
“Private Noah Diaz, multiple accommodations, wizard with Technology. he’s solider.”
“He doesn’t look like a solider.”
“You are looking rough as well.”
We heard a laugh form mirage and after words a quick sorry. Then he held me up. arcee scan my face.
“that’s weird. There nothing about you.”
“Nothing?” prime asked arcee.
“Not even a photo.”
“Just call me Sliver like I said.”
“I will deal with your mistake later.”
He put me and noah on top of a rack.
“Okay the energy surge was in a 4,000s range. Its undetectable to humans. I reconstructed the energy from there echoes.
“I cannot believe it existed and its here.”
“What the hell am I looking at?” Said bee.
“The Trans wrap key. it was thought ….”
Noah tapped on my shoulder and nodded his head. he saw a way down. just to humor him. I followed him. ignoring the conversation until they said Ellis Island. Noah was began to climb down the mess up latter. While waiting for him to go completely down. I tune into the conversation again. when they gotten to the part about humans there. I felt a shove on my shoulder.
“What about me, I can help.”
“How so.” Optimums began to walk towards me. acting all high and mighty
“I have a way to get all of use in a doubt.”
“Would you help us go home.” the arcee asks.
“Yes.”
“Why help us? we are completely different then you let alone trust you.”
“Because I know what is like trying to get home. you have a chance to go home. if the roles were reverse, I hope someone would help me.”
There was a massive pause. No one said a word.
“We don’t have a better plan and we are running out of time.”
“what’s your plan human.”
Completing ignoring him I look at mirage.
“Mirage, do you still have my bag?
“You mean this.” He opens his chest panel. pulling out a green bag with black strips.
“My equipment it in there. keep me in the driver seat and just drive behind us. I will take care of the rest.
Prime knowing, he was out of time had to have faith in me. We heard a clunk. Looks like Noah escape plan failed. I snorted laugh.
“Mirage takes these humans. Rest of you transform and roll out.”
I began walking towards Noah escape attempt. I leaned over. looking at a Noah that was sadly defeated.
“It was a good try, Noah.” I said with my arms cross.
“How about I help you down. “Said mirage.
Held his hand out.
“Thank you.” he had my bag in his hand. picking it up and he began transforming. I was the driver this time. I saw Noah on the outside next to the passage window. pressing the window controls.
“This is the time you make a choice. You can either walk away and go back to your normal or join us and have a story to tell.”
#fanfiction#tf rotb#tf x reader#transformers#transformers x reader#beast wars#optimus#transformers-x-reader#unicron#mirage rotb#optimus prime#optimus x reader#Optimus prime x reader#mirage x reader#prime x reader#transformers rise of the beasts#rise of the beasts
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Some Decepticon Valentines I never got around to finishing 💔
#transformers#transformers fanart#tf knockout#knockout#soundwave#swindle#shockwave#transformers x reader#tagging this bc i feel you guys would appreciate them haha#made my some of my favorite silly guys#maccadam#maccadams
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Being able to reach where the bots can't
The men on base couldn't pull something out of Optimus's engine block. It was deep inside, wedged in the cables and framework. Without thinking, you offered to try removing it. They stepped aside, and you slipped underneath Optimus's bumper. The men watched incredulously as your body disappeared inside the engine space. You wriggled between the frame and the giant engine with a small light clenched in your teeth.
Your body pressed into the warm metal around you as you searched. When you spotted the offending piece of debris. You ever so gently twisted and coaxed it out of where it had been wedged. You felt him shake around you when it popped free. Dropping it to the concrete below with a clang, you wriggled your way out. Your clothes and hands had stripes of smudged grease and other remnants of vehicle fluids all over.
You popped your back after you slid out from under him and patted his hood. "Good to go, Optimus."
He'd never admit it, but having you pressed against the inside of his engine space felt... well, it made him feel things, to say the least. He thanked you, of course. It was the gentlemanly thing to do, but the thoughts running through his processor would've made him blush if he were able to.
-------
Crosshairs could feel that something was off as he moved. Almost like when humans get a stitch or muscle cramp. You noticed him moving to try and free whatever may be stuck or out of place. "Hey, Cross you, alright?" He looked up as he was feeling under his chest panels. "Something feels off, but I can't tell what or where it is."
"Can you transform? Maybe I can find it." He did as asked, transforming. "Where can you feel it in this form?"
"My engine space as far as I can tell." He pops his hood, and with a small flashlight, you look over parts of his engine block that are visible but can't see anything out of place. You lean over the side, looking between the frame and block. Something blue catches your eye, and you bend over, slipping your hand into the small gap. You feel Something wet and remove your arm to look at your fingers. Drops of blue enerjon color your skin and you hiss. "Looks like something cut one of your cables. Not all the way through, but you are leaking some enerjon. I can help stop the bleeding with some electrical tape if you want?"
"Please do. It can take a while for cables to seal on their own." You grabbed the electrical tape and practically climbed into his engine to reach the cable deep inside. Your chest and face were pressed into his engine so you could reach. As gently as you could, you wrapped up the leaking cable. Pushing up into a sitting position on your knees, you breathed a sigh of relief. "Just come get me when it feels like it's sealed up."
You closed his hood and walked back to do whatever you'd been doing beforehand. He watched your hips sway as you left. The feeling of your hands on his cables and block lingered long after you left, and he couldn't help the shiver that ran down his back strut.
-------
Bumblebee could've sworn he felt something in his undercarriage as he was driving with you to run an errand. When he ran over a bump, it stuck him like a thorn. He spoke his concerns over the radio, and you offered to take a look when you got back to base.
Later, you had him drive up onto a pair of car ramps. With his undercarriage exposed, you slid underneath him to search for anything that could be problematic. Nothing in his front half stuck out to you, so you slid further back, and almost at his rear axel, you spotted something shiny and out of place. It was lodged in the crack around his gas tank. "Bee, I found it! I'll try to pull it free, but you can't move, ok?" A beep and wirr was all you got in response, so you took it as an ok.
Lightly, you touch the underside of his tank, and he shakes at the contact. Your other hand grips the edge of the metal object and gives it a light tug. It shifts a bit but doesn't pop free. With more force, you tug and wiggle the piece, and it pops free. Bee jumps an inch but stays on the ramps, and you slide out from under him. A deep male voice from an old show speaks over his radio. "Thank you, love, you're a life saver!"
You give him a pat on the hood and examine the metal in your hand. "Looks like a piece of tin roofing. Good thing it didn't cut any cables or your tires."
The feeling of your hands on his undercarriage stayed for a while after you left. He wondered what it would be like to have you wash him by hand rather than going through the wash station at the base.
-------
Ratchet lost an important piece of the machine he was working on in a crack just small enough that his didgets couldn't slip through. He would've had Arcee help him, but she was still out on patrol. He looked over to you, sleeping on the couch. You were the only human on base at the moment, and he really needed that piece. Reluctantly, he walked over to the raised platform and called your name a few times.
You stirred and turned over to sleepily look at him. "Mmh, I'm up. What is it?" You stretch and yawn while still laying down. "I apologize for waking you, but I need your assistance with something." Standing you rub your eyes to clear them. He takes you in his servos and places you on the floor before the gap in the wall. Looking up at him questioningly, he finally tells you what's going on.
With him shining a light into the gap, you slip through all the way till your wide hips stop you from going further. The piece is thankfully within reach, and you just have to angle yourself to grab it. Your rear stuck out in full view, and he tried looking away, but his gaze kept slipping back to you as you reached for the object.
When you stood up holding the object in hand, he picked you up and placed you on the platform again. He thanked you but couldn't look you in the eye. You smiled up at him, none the wiser of the thoughts running through his processor.
#fanfic#transformers x reader#transformers fanfiction#imagine#optimus x reader#bumblebee x reader#crosshairs x reader#ratchet x reader
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❤️🔥10
Sorry if this is a bit long, but maybe it could start something like this?
Y/N visits Sam at college with Optimus, who might've came with to harass Sam about helping like an alternative to the scene where they meet at the graveyard. Leo follows Sam out, probably harassing him about the website or whatnot, and basically just kinda stops like "You didn't tell me your sister was hot!" before running up ahead to hit on her, with Sam having his fifth mental breakdown of the day. Optimus isn't happy with Sam's dormmate, to say the least.
First request for the 1000+ follower event!!! Yippie!!!
Bayverse! Optimus Prime x fem!AFAB!human! Reader
OP in love with Sam's friend who is like an older sister of Sam is my favorite trope 😌💅🏻
Smut smut smut!!!
Warnings: size-difference! tried to keep this realistic so no penetrative sex. cock humping, clit stimulation. messy cum 🥴 Also cheesy flirtations from Leo
You were sitting inside Optimus who was in his semi-trailer form as you both waited for Sam to come out of his dorm building so you could surprise him. “You think he’ll be excited to see me, Optimus?” you ask softly, “I know it’s only been one day since he’s been here, but I was so upset I couldn’t help him move in,” you say with a small hint of guilt in your voice.
“My dear sweet spark, Sam would be happy to see you,” Optimus said in his soothing deep voice in reassurance through his radio. You smile before affectionately rubbing your hand over his steering wheel. You open your mouth to say something when you see Sam walking out of the building with his roommate in tow. “Oh, look! He’s coming out!” you say happily as you scramble out of Optimus.
“Sam!” You call out to him, effectively grabbing his attention. “Y/N?” Sam says happily as he sees you waving over to him with Optimus chilling behind you with his engine revving. Sam rushes over to pull you into a big hug as he lifts you slightly in his tight embrace. You can't help but giggle brightly as you wrap my arms around his neck tightly. “God, I’m the worst big sister ever-,” you start before you get rudely interrupted by Leo’s low wolf whistle making you pull back from the hug and look at him with a raised brow. “Damn, Sam! You didn’t tell me your sister was a babe,” Leo says as he pushes Sam to the side a bit as Leo grabs your hand to kiss your knuckles, “I’m Leo, Sam’s roommate, and hopefully your future husband,” Leo winks. Sam watches the scene unfold as he tries not to burst out laughing at the clear disgust on your face. Optimus is fuming at the scene knowing you're not exactly enjoying the flirt. Your brows raise in shock as you pull your hand away from him. “Charmed,” you say sarcastically as you wipe your knuckles on Sam’s shirt. You turn back to Sam, “Anyways, hon. My husband,” you pause to look at Leo as you lift your hand with your wedding band on it that you wear to fend off creepy men then look back at Sam, “wanted to talk to you. He said it was urgent. So, go get Bee and meet up with us,” you say in a more relaxed tone as you look at Sam. Sam can't help but chuckle lightly before realizing you're talking about Optimus and he let out a sigh. “Really? I can’t have one day?” Sam asks exasperated. “Nope!” you say as you pop the ‘p’, “And you know you can’t really say no to me and I’m not exactly asking,” you finish with a cheeky smile before walking over to Optimus and getting inside. “See you soon!” you say sweetly.
“Wait! Here’s my number in case your husband doesn’t work out or if you want some spice in your life,” Leo says as he hands you a folded-up piece of paper and he blows you a kiss. Optimus’ engine revs loudly in annoyance at Leo’s insistence. You look at him incredulously and can’t help the laugh that comes out of you, “I genuinely don’t know where you get this confidence to go after a married woman, but I’m very much not interested, kid,” you scoff. “Leo, buddy. Trust me. Her husband is a god compared to you,” Sam adds as his hand pats Leo’s back as he guides him away from you.
You crumple up the number and toss it aside as Optimus peels out of the parking lot. After a few minutes of driving at a fast speed and Optimus being oddly quiet, you decide to speak up. “My love?” you ask softly only to hear nothing but silence. You sigh softly, “You know you’re the best thing to happen to me right? That I’ll never get tired of you and that it’s always you on my mind right? The only one who gets me all hot and bothered,” you say reassuringly with a small giggle at your last statement as your hand caresses the dashboard in a soothing manner. “I know that. I’m not upset with you. Never with you, my sweet spark,” Optimus says with a soft sigh before pulling off to the side of the road and into a small forested area as he transformed into his humanoid form with you in his servos.
He finds a tree and sits down with his back against it as he lifts you up to his face and carefully places kisses on your face and lips. “No one else could ever have you,” Optimus says as his spike is released and his other hand reaches under your dress to take off your panties only to realize you weren’t wearing any and he lets out a low rumbling growl. You smirk slightly, “I have to keep things interesting, Optimus,” you say teasingly. “My wife,” he says possessively and places you against his warmed-up spike making a shiver run down your spine. His voice and possessiveness were something you’d never dealt with before with him. Optimus was always so gentle and loving, but this… this was primal and rough. You begin to rock your hips lightly as your slick covers his spike making it easy for you to feel the ridges of his spike against your clit making you let out breathy moans. His servo wraps around your torso in a firm grip. “Primus, you’re mine,” Optimus groans out as he gently rocks his hips lightly to create more friction as you grind against his large spike. Your hands grip his spike as you let out a whine at the feeling of him, “I’m yours. N-no one else’s. I love you, I love you,” you whimper out desperately as your orgasm approaches. Transfluids start to leak from his tip and he pushes your hips down as he starts to apply more pressure to his length as he let out a deep moan from the feeling. Your juices have coated his spike as your thighs tighten and they become lubed up from your essence dripping down the sides of his spike. “‘M close, my love,” you gasp out as you continue to moan and whimper from the pleasure. “Optimus!” you cry out as your orgasm wracks through your body and your thighs squeeze around him. Optimus hasn’t stopped moving you against his spike as his hand moves down to hold your lower back and ass to continue the grinding. “Y-Y/N,” he groans loudly as he twitches and the transfluids shoot out from his spike in large spurts against his abdomen and breastplates.
You watch the liquid shine against him and you bite your lip softly. “I… don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing that,” you say lovingly before looking into his blue optics. “Jealousy seems to be a great motivator for you… it’s quite sexy seeing you so- what’s the word,” you pause, “so deliciously possessive,” you finish with a smile and a small giggle. Optimus lets out a small chuckle as he raises his other servo to caress your cheek with the back of his finger. “I wasn’t too rough?” he asks softly with slight concern. “Your grip may have been too tight, but would I change that? Absolutely not. In fact, I like this rough side a bit,” you smile cutely, “it’s kinda, super, mega sexy,” you giggle brightly making Optimus laugh softly with you. “I love you with all of my spark and every inch of my being, Y/N,” Optimus says lovingly as he leans down a bit to rest his forehead against yours gently. Your hands go on either side of his face as you place soft kisses on his lips, nose, and forehead before resting your forehead back against his as you both close your eyes to breathe in the moment. “I adore you and every bit of me forever belongs to you. Mind, body, and soul. I love you,” you say in a soft whisper.
Bonus:
Sam turns to Bee at the place they were supposed to meet you and Optimus at. "Where are they?" Sam asks confused. Bee shrugs his shoulders and lifts his servos slightly, "Hell if I know," he says through multiple channel changes through his radio.
A/N: lmk what y'all thought about it!! comments appreciated 🫶🏻 tips are also appreciated, no matter how small 💞 much love and kisses to you all
#transformers x reader#transformers bayverse x reader#optimus x reader#optimus prime x reader#transformers smut
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someone in the server gave the idea, and i live to serve so fdghfdkjh
#maccadam#transformers#optimus prime#optimus#transformers x reader#optimus prime x reader#cant believe im writing those tags#who am i becoming#i actually have a version with me but 🤫#porque esta chichón? 😭
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How would tfp cons react to their human female s/o got captured by Airachnid?
Sorry for typos or any kind of mistakes 😭 I lose my darn concentration while writing this long
Hope you like it! 💜
STICKY SITUATION
✦ TFP Decepticons x reader ✦
2nd person
female reader
AU where the reader has joined the Decepticons and mostly works in the lab or helps with repairing
reader is captured by Airachnid mostly because of her envy
kidnapping, possessiveness, threats, heated arguments/fight (physical)
injuries, blood, rescue, comfort
MEGATRON
Airachnid would hunt you down, wrap you in that sticky web-like substance of hers and bring you to lord Megatron with an excuse that you sabotaged a project and set the whole lab on fire while in fact it was her doing
Accusing you of unloyalty while standing before Megatron's feet, you'd scream and beg him to listen to you, claiming Airachnid is lying
Airachnid: SILENCE, YOU TRAITOROUS RODENT!
She would shout as she'd seal your mouth with the sticky substance
Your lord would observe, doubting you'd do anything like that. As he'd look into your pleading, innocent, tormented eyes, his spark would ache. Not that he expressed it. He'd rather perish than express his vulnerability for you
Then he'd look into Airachnid's eyes full of hope that he’d tear you into tiny pieces of young flesh as he’d get struck by her tiny, devilish grin
Airachnid: my lord. Your wish is my command. I can inflict indescribable pain on her if you let me. She deserves it.
Megatron: no. She does not.
Would be all he'd say before he'd walk to you and free you. You'd start desperately trying to explain yourself but he'd nonchalantly interrupt you:
Megatron: accidents happen. You shall proceed. Shockwave awaits your assistance back in the lab.
He'd give an order and wait for you to leave. Then he'd walk back to Airachnid who'd be in pure shock
Megatron: if you want to terminate her, lying to your leader would be the unwisest way to do it.
Airachnid: my liege-
Megatron: SILENCE! Do such thing again and you shall be the one torn to pieces by my own bare hands. DO YOU UNDERSTAND!?
Airachnid: yes, my liege... *as she'd reluctantly bow*
Megatron: and stay away from her. She is far more useful than you are, Airachnid.
Naughty you would stay close to the door and listen. You'd giggle to yourself as you'd hear your master play favorites
Airachnid is not oblivious though. She noticed he cares for you which she'll use against him. She would already start making new plans on how to get rid of you, lord Megatron's pet.
💜
STARSCREAM
He’d be in shock when he’d get a report from the vehicons that you’ve been attacked by Airachnid
He’d order his soldiers to show him where you are as he’d call for backup
When he’d find you wrapped in a cocoon upside down in a storage room, being threatened by Airachnid, he’d order her to stay down as he’d aim his rockets at her
Airachnid: oh please, Starscream. Like a couple of your cloned servants could stop me.
Starscream: you fool! Free her this instant or perish.
Airachnid: so it is true~ commander Starscream has a new pet human~
Starscream: I do not care for… a human! I am simply fulfilling my duty! We need her for the project!
Airachnid would hiss and threaten to slice your throat
Airachnid: and why would that stop me from getting rid of this infestation!
Starscream: Megatron will have your head! And so will I.
An evil smirk would grow on Screamer’s face plate as they’d charged their weapons at her. She’d reluctantly and angrily release you, making you painfully drop on the floor and yelp
Airacnid: until next time, rodent.
She’d say as she’d crawl her way out of the storage room, disappointed that her plan of getting rid of you had failed
Starscream would slice the cocoon open and free you as he’d emotionlessly tell you to get up.
You’d thank him as he’d walk you out and say:
Starscream: not a word to anyone about this, got it?
Totally into you but his dignity and ego can’t allow him to admit he fell in love with one from the species he hates the most
💜
KNOCKOUT
Knockout: YOU WHAT!?
Airachnid: relax, Knockout~ No one will even notice she’s gone~ and we both know everyone dislikes her-
Knockout: I DON’T- I mean- WE DON’T! Lord Megatron needs her to complete this project! She became one of the key members of the lab, I-
Airachnid: indeed. Indeed she did. She’s taking your position. Soon, lord Megatron will replace you with her.
Her cunning aft would try to manipulate him
Knockout: the only one who can be replaced on this ship is you! You’re afraid of her. Now tell me where she is before I cut you into pieces!
He’d say as he’d get his saw out and aggressively rev it at her to which she wouldn’t even flinch, bluffing
Airachnid: calm down, doctor, it isn’t a big deal. Just a little game I like playing with her. And my my~ so it is true~ doctor does have his favorite assistant after all~
Knockout would groan and go look for your. He’d turn the whole ship upside down until he’d find you somewhere well hidden with tied limbs
He’s dramatically scream and free you carefully as he’d baby talk to you
Knockout: look what that wretched femme did to you! Nt nt nt… Don’t worry, little one, I won’t let that creepy spider lady get near you ever again, no no~ Doctor’s promise~
Y/N: don’t say that ever again-
Knockout: what I thought it’s cute-
As he’d carry you back to the lab and shower you with kisses
💜
BREAKDOWN
She knows how much he cares for you and how easily distracted he gets which she’d cunningly use against him in battle
She’d capture you and make you hang upside down a thick tree branch the moment he’d attack her
Airachnid: are you sure you want to play this game again, Breakdown? Because we have a new contestant~
Breakdown would freeze as he’d see you desperately trying to scream with your mouth sealed
Airachnid: I think she wants to say hello to her precious boyfriend~
She’d say as she’d free your mouth and let you scream for Breakdown. But instead you’d encourage him:
Y/N: BEAT HER ASS, BREAKDOWN!!!
To which he’d frown and power up, get his hammer out and roar like an animal as he’d charge at her
You’d watch the epic boss battle and keep encouraging him until all of your blood would flow down to your head and make you feel unwell
Airachnid: hurry up, boyfriend~ You chose a very delicate being for your lover~ She will die if you don’t get her down in time~
Breakdown: YOU TALK TOO MUCH!
She tried distracting him more but instead she only made his anger grow. His helm boiled as he kept mercilessly hammering her
The moment he knocked her out and yeeted her somewhere, he rushed to get you down. He panicked a little but managed to rescue you on time
Breakdown: you’re the best life coach even when you’re dying~
He had to pull a cheesy joke
💜
DREADWING
She’d pull the same trick on him like on Breakdown
She’d use you as his biggest weakness - fear of losing his closest ones just like he lost his brother…
Both of you would have your limbs tied as she’d make you face each other
Airachnid: now that we have the whole scene set~
Dreadwing: Airachnid, do not be a fool. You are playing with fire. Release her this instant!
Airachnid: or what!?
She’d say as she’d give you a big, deep scratch across the back and make you yelp
Dreadwing: NO!
Airachnid: watch her suffer.
In a blink of an eye she’d stab your torso by the side with one of her eight unsettlingly long legs and make you bleed badly
Dreadwing would scream as he’d desperately try to free himself. Filled with fury, he’d manage to rip the sticky substance that was tied around his wrists
Dreadwing: YOU WILL NOT TAKE THE ONLY THING THAT I CARE FOR IN MY LIFE!
He’d jump her and obliterate her, making her run away with deadly wounds
As he’d kneel next to your wounded body, he’d free you and gently pick you up and request an immediate ground bridge.
He’d watch your fragile, almost lifeless body curling in his servos…
Dreadwing: do not fear, my love. I shall take care of you. You will not leave this world. Not while I stand…
💜
SOUNDWAVE
She thought she could just snatch you from the lab while you were alone and get rid of you that easily
She forgot Soundwave, that has developed strong feelings for you, is the eyes and ears of the ship
He’d cut her off in one of the hallways and have a stare down
You’d scream for help
Airachnid: silence! And stand down, Soundwave. Her playtime with big robots has officially come to an end.
He’d launch his tentacles at her and try to zap her which she’d avoid while running towards him
He would maneuver wisely and swiftly while trying to snatch you from her servos
You’d get slightly injured due to their “doll snatching” game
The moment he’d managed to get his servos on you, he’d create a ground bridge right underneath her
As she was about to fall into it, he’d grab one of her creepy legs and speak:
Soundwave: Soundwave superior. Airachnid inferior.
Before he’d let her fall into the portal and teleport somewhere, precisely above the ocean
Y/N: you… you can speak?
To which he’d just look at you and put his index finger across the lower part of his face plate, gesturing this shall stay a secret
💜
SHOCKWAVE
Shockwave: I find your behavior… illogical.
He’d say in his usual monotone voice, trying to calm the situation down as he’d catch her wanting to preform torturing experiments on you in the lab
Airachnid: don’t be naive, Shockwave~ You and I both know she’s nothing but an infestation on this ship!
Shockwave: that statement is illogical as well, Airachnid. She is my assistant.
Airachnid: oh curse your assistant!
Y/N: Shockwave! Please!
The moment he’d hear his secret lover plead, he’d charge his blaster at her
Shockwave: do not test me, Airachnid. You clearly are not aware of my abilities.
He’d say as he’d start slowly approaching the berth she held you captive on
Airachnid: oh no, dearest Shockwave. Clearly it is you who isn’t aware of our common enemies!
And there comes another epic boss fight. To your surprise it was quite short
Shockwave broke two of her spider legs with ease as he’d throw her around the lab
He did completely or mildly damage some of his equipment but at that point he couldn’t care less. All he cared about is your well being
Shockwave: take advantage of this situation and leave with dignity before I call reinforcements and inform Megatron of your disgraceful act.
Sometimes words can hurt more than actions. She hissed at him and crawled out of the lab
He released you and earned heartwarming gratitude from you
Shockwave: I have always found her way of perception… illogical.
Dividers belong to @kiwicidios , @firefly-graphics and @kimjiho1 💜
#transformers#transformers x reader#tfp#transformers prime#decepticons#tfp decepticons#tfp megatron#tfp starscream#tfp knockout#tfp breakdown#tfp dreadwing#tfp soundwave#tfp shockwave#megatron x reader#starscream x reader#knockout x reader#breakdown x reader#dreadwing x reader#soundwave x reader#shockwave x reader
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