#Fort Max

[ihatebrainstorm]

New years! My Secret Solenoid gift to @ prwlabout on insta! (A Prowl for Prowl?)

[neonre86]

This panel of Rung comforting a PTSD ridden Fort Max always makes me cry. Rung is too good for the world.

[sweetcrescent]

[revelboo]

Hey Revel, would it be okay to request an one shot fluff of Fort Max comforting reader after a really bad night?

Sure! He’s on my request list, just haven’t gotten to him yet

Fort Max Scenario- Nightmares

Fortress Maximus x Reader

• Again. Can hear you tossing and turning in your little nest. Spark constricting when you make a soft, pained sound. Hurting and this isn’t an enemy he can fend off. And it’s almost every night now, your sleep haunted by something you refuse to share with him. Running a hand over his face, he slides off his berth and crosses the room. You’re curled into a tight little ball, trembling and you gasp when he carefully picks you up blankets and all. “It’s me. Max, remember?” He soothes when you thrash in his grip, his voice making you settle even though he can still feel your heart racing against his servos.

• Shivering, you can’t look him in his red optics as he carries you back to his berth and lays down, settling you and your blankets on his chassis. “I woke you again.” Embarrassed, you curl on your side so your back is to him, because you can’t meet those worried optics right now. “Sorry.” Can still feel the vestiges of the nightmare, the fear so visceral you can’t breathe even now. Wanting to curl up and just cry, but knowing that will upset him more. The urge only increasing when he cautiously runs a servo over your head. The big guy trying so hard to take care of you. To fix what was already broken.

• Uncomfortable with handling you, afraid you might think that he thinks you’re a pet, not a person, it’s the only way either of you will get any rest. Any time you have those dreams, you’ll just toss and whimper all night long unless he intervenes. “My friend, Red, has trouble recharging,” he murmurs. Red Alert’s paranoia disturbs his recharge. He has no idea what bothers yours. You refuse to tell him. “Told me he has this little ambient noise loop going and it calms him right down.” Tiredly telling you stories about Red Alert and rubbing his servo between your shoulder blades until your heart calms. Until you relax against him.

• “Thank you,” you mumble, cheek on your arm as you listen to his deep voice and the hum of his spark. Letting your big protector banish the fear. Because nothing can touch you while he has you, even if there’s guilt for accidentally waking him. For not being strong enough to lie to him that you’re fine. Not that he ever complains about you annoying him, just patiently dealing with your issues without prying. Without telling you that you’re the problem.

• “Of course.” Rumbling softly to you when you yawn and close your eyes. Knows you’ll sleep peacefully now. You always do. Hadn’t wanted to presume or pressure you, but maybe you should just sleep on him from now on if it calms you. Doubts you’d ever ask him to let you, but you might feel better about it if he asks you. Besides, he’s getting used to your warmth, the feel of your heartbeat and the sound of your breathing. “I have you.” Misses them when you try to sleep alone. Getting to where he needs to be able to feel you there to rest just like you need him.

[megtrns]

not to sound insane but i'm bedridden at the thought of being intimate with these giant bots — no, not interfacing (although that's also great), but rather the nervous brushing of fingers against servos, the firm press of skin against metal, the bend and curve of muscle to cradle the shape of their armors. 

fort max, who came to life in the crux of war and violence, wiping a stray eyelash from the corner of your eye, servos faintly trembling as they tentatively cross the space between your bodies. unsure and afraid of hurting you, he tries not to exert too much effort, constantly reminding himself that just because his mass was displaced doesn't mean he didn't have the strength to tear mechs apart with his bare hands. his optics, garnet red under the distant starlight, soften the moment you lean your cheek against his open palm; the skin under his touch, smooth and organic and alive with a warmth he didn't know existed. 

brainstorm running his digits playfully over your face — tickling your nose, your chin, your ear — causing you to giggle against the pillows as he conducts a thorough examination for the purpose of 'science', using it as an excuse to 'stimulate your nerves' and make you smile. here, face to face with him above the mattress, with laughter embracing your bodies like a weighted blanket, you let him gently trace his servos across your lips. the scientist, drunk on studying you. 

swerve letting you throw your arms around his neck — body melting against his chest plates, nose already buried at the crook of his neck cables to express your sympathies. you were one of the few people who see through the chink in his optimistic armor, always trying to cheer him up even before he even realized he needs the comfort. and how can he not feel better already, when you were looking up at him like he hung the stars for you? 

perceptor catching himself in awe of human irises and the myriad of colors they take after. he thinks it's beyond fascinating that, for some, the eyes reflect the color of their seas, cerulean blue dissolving against white foam. and other times even the forest, their strange and halcyon woodlands dense with emerald trees that sway with the wind. but most curious of all, he thinks, is the color of the earth : darker than rust yet radiant like the sun — a shade that doesn't naturally occur on his planet, swimming like liquid gold behind your eyes.

megatron, elusive and distant, anchored by the delicate weight of your fingers above his servos. when he saw your hand sliding across your lap from under the metal table — using the distraction caused by whirl in the middle of a crowded night at swerves — to move closer to his, megatron had thought about stopping you. he thought about retracting his hand to excuse himself back to his hab-suite. but the ex-warlord is tired and worn, powerless against the sight of your affections. so he let it happen — and it was fleeting, only a brush and barely a touch. yet it went straight to his spark like a jolt of electricity. just like that, under your fragile, tiny hands, the mighty has fallen. 

[sprinklor]

More than meets the eye issue 46

[brolly03]

I came across this gem on Pinterest and my imagination is going wild for it!!!

[archie-sunshine]

pls fort-max-ussy sir..... im starving and need him to (REDACTED BY THE US GOVERNMENT)

i got so distracted looking for this ask, anyways uhhm

used to never draw fort max bc he was annoying to draw, now i am really really good at drawing robots and hes much easier actually.

[harveydont]

i dont normally go here because straight lines hate me. but max is good.

[star-gxze]

Pet names they call you (MOST lost light crew)

Mtmte edition heh…😈 prolly ooc but heh…who really cares

Rodimus: This guy…he’s probably call you something dumb like my silly dilly gumdrop, baby cakes, Pookie Wookie Dookie Sugar Prince(ss) Boo Boo Bear Snuggle Waggo Baby Bunny or my lovable Pookie dookie gumdrop😭 (jk) but srsly id feel like he’d call you babe most of the time and if he’s feeling a bit romantical it would fo sho be sweet spark :)

swerve: he is such a sweetie pie, he’d probably call you love, sweet spark, amore, Mo gohrádh (my dear in Scottish Gaelic) pudding and cutie pie :3

ultra magnus: my beautiful 12th wife would call you princess/prince/princex/princette, darling, dear, sweetie, Pumpkin

Drift: Mr. thickums would probably call you cherry blossom, my beautiful girl/boy/s/o, my dove, my flower (any kind of flower) Little dumpling

Ratchet: dearest, dear, my star, my light, honey, Ma'am/Sir/Mx(?)

whirl: sweet thang, sugar tits (goes for all genders he doesn't care),hot stuff, sweets, sugar, ship mate, Shnookums, toots

Rung: darling, my love, my fawn, dawn, my dearest, my love, my amazing s/o, little one (for human/minibot! cybertronin [NAME])

Megatron: my dear, my love, lovely, darling, my sweet (gender)

skids: hon, dove, my spark, cloud, sweet pea, bubbles

Getaway: ah you thought. I'll never write for him unless their are guns and missiles to my head and I'm hanging upside down above a tank full of eels and sharks [Angry face]

Fort max: buddy, sunshine, love

Riptide: bubbles, coral cutie...yes coral cutie...anyways, starfish, fish(he's trying really hard), cuddle bug

A/N: (this is one of two of my drafts hope you enjoy :D)

zzz

ik i said human reader only but this is an exception because uh...I said so hehe

sorry most of the nicknames are repeated lolz

(please don't steal, watermark, plagiarize, or run my writings through AI :) )

[thegoldenshi-shi]

I learned a new super bright coloring style~

Sunny will not cooperate for this style yet

[ihatebrainstorm]

Fort Max at a petting zoo + Fort Max being a ref at the puppy bowl bc I think he'd be a good ref

also this was meant to be an ask doodle but I think I accidentally deleted it??? That or I completely imagined someone asking for him...

[showstopper35]

Bodyguard! Fortress Maximus

a/n- possibly the most self-indulgent thing I’ve written

-He needs a job, and he needs one that won’t leave him traumatised for life. His days of being a prison warden are over. The war is over. But he can’t shake the feeling that he needs to be doing more. He still wants to fight—but this time he wants to do it to maintain peace. -Enter you: a returning “nail” from a wealthy merchant family who unfortunately sold weapons to both sides during the war. Needless to say, you’ve got a lot of enemies. People who want to manipulate you, who want to take your family down. -Money solves problems, and Fort Max is your solution.

-His towering form sits outside your door, follows behind you in crowds, his optics always travelling to your frame. His gaze is gentle, but nervous. -If there’s ever a need to touch you, he is so careful. So afraid of breaking you. -Privately considers you a princess, and he your knight. -If anything should ever happen to you, he would blame himself for the rest of his life. -You once took his hand to thank him and he swears he could feel the warmth from your fingers for days afterwards. -Each time you thank him, he falls a little bit more in love with you. -At night, he buries his face in his hands when he finds himself thinking too much about you. What it would be like to hold your hand…hold you in his arms…keep you safe forever.

-Once you smiled at him and he was all ready to run away with you at that very moment. -He would genuinely do anything for you.

[sweetcrescent]

I’m a lawyer, and fell in love with this two law enforcers, coincidence?

[welcometothesewers]

I love you Fort Max, Fort Max I LOVE YOUUUUUUU

[megtrns]

drabbles. snippets of life with the mtmte crew. first contact au. ft. swerve, prowl, fortress maximus, whirl. (nsfw!) (mdni!) gender neutral but dresses are mentioned.

It's so hard not to romanticise living together with these bots. The thought of humans and cybertronian co-existing peacefully is not enough, I need them to indulge in one another's company.

Going to a jazz bar with Swerve where the lights are colourful and alive, with an ocean of people conversing the night away underneath a backdrop of live music. You were struggling to hear one another past the noise, but none of you were complaining, just laughing and sitting by the bar shoulder-to-shoulder. You didn't miss the way his optics dart around nervously when you adjust the thin strap slipping down your shoulder, knees dangerously close as they peek out of the slit of your dress.

Stepping out of the taxi to escape traffic and make it to work on time, only to end up getting nearly run over by a cop car in the process. You had cussed at the tinted windows before narrowly escaping the morning chaos that always unfurls downtown during Mondays. Only to arrive on your first day on the job, sweaty and late anyway, to your cybertronian boss who coincidentally has the same plate number as the mustang that you had yelled at this morning. Let's just say you were on toilet duty for months, and even after, Prowl never let you live that one down.

Being neighbors with the quiet and somewhat intimidating autobot that just moved in next door and feeling excited to introduce yourself. From the bits and pieces of conversations you've caught in the hallway (and not because you've been eavesdropping), you've deducted that Fortress Maximus works with the police precinct. Wanting to make a first good impression, you knocked at his door with a bouquet of flowers and an invitation for dinner — obviously because you wanted to be friendly and not because you found him a teensy bit attractive. It's too bad that you're never showing your face to him again after he gave you the heads up that the walls are very thin and that he could hear you sing in the shower every morning. (You missed the part where he meant it as a compliment).

Telling your best friends that you may have had a little bit too much to drink at your annual corporate party and might have slept with someone from the firm you work in. All you knew was that it was the first time you'd indulged in a one-night stand, and not only was it the best sex you've ever had, but it was also definitely with one of your cybertronian colleagues. Too bad the broom closet was dark and you were so thoroughly fucked (in the best way, or rather, every way) that you didn't remember to ask for their name. When none of your co-workers wanted to fess up, you were starting to get worried that you'd dreamt the whole thing up — Oh no, the best sex in your life thus far and you've dreamt it all up! The good news is that it was real, you did sleep with a cybertronian. The bad news is that you had slept with Whirl, the mech you regularly get into arguments with because of his despicable attitude. Now you can't even look at him in the optics while he's practially preening and ready to gloat. At least now you know his shameless bragging about finding humans repulsive is nothing but lies ( you have the lovemarks on your hips to prove it.)