#Starscream bath

[lockheed-martin-unofficial]

Starscream is given a bath, Part 6: (FINAL PART)

1038 words, and We! Are! Done! I would like to thank you all for reading along and supporting this, I had never expected it would get as much attention as it did when I decided to do it. Congratulations to you, specifically, for cleaning up Starscream!

Part 5: here

——————————————————————————

“It’s no problem.” The human replied, as if it truly wasn’t. Her clothing was visibly drenched in the water, and he silently cursed himself for being so inconsiderate. He was trying not to owe anything.

He truly didn’t take it for granted, he didn’t. A companion he could tolerate, one who did what he asked for some reason. Dropping her own things for his. Opening her dwelling up to him. He understood why he wasn’t feared, he knew she was aware he’d lose any and all chance to negotiate with the Autobots if one of their human companions died by his hand. But the rest, he just couldn’t figure out. He couldn’t figure out what she wanted, and she wouldn’t tell either.

He wanted to stay. Stay where he knew it was all warm and safe and soothing. But somehow, he couldn’t stand it at the same time. It all felt too much. So much, so quickly, and the reality of his situation was slowly dawning on him. She was far too smart to simply not have any ulterior motive, and he did not want to owe anything more than he had to.

“I’ve disturbed your recharge cycle.” He spoke up, and without letting her protest, picked her up by the back of her shirt. Out of the bathtub, observing thoughtfully as the water dripped from her clothes.

“Your… coverings, however you call them-“

“Clothes?”

“Clothes will need to be dried, yes?” His voice was uncharacteristically soft. It still had that edge to it, but he sounded more confused than anything. He didn’t know what he was doing, did he?

“Uhh…sure.” she shrugged, looking all confused as he lowered her down onto her feet.

Not letting her grab it herself, Starscream handed her the towel hanging behind the door. She gave him a confused smile while drying herself, startled when he left her and stepped out into the hallway.

“Hey- where are you going?”

“I’m getting you dry clothes.” He replied, his tone once more mimicking how she had said it. “And don’t refuse.”

Surprisingly successful in his mission to locate her spare pajamas, he returned with the coverings and poked his servo through the crack of the door to hand them over. She’d closed it behind her when he’d left, and he figured there must have been a reason.

“Thank you, I think.”

“Don’t misunderstand. It makes no odds to me whether you’re dry or not. True, you did something for me, but I don’t want you assuming I’m in your debt, or that we’re allies now.” he explained, a disdain in his voice especially when he said allies.

She opened the door, staring up at him. About to say something.

“Starscream-“

“Whatever you’re intending to get from me, you’ll have to try harder.”

He picked her up again, carrying her through the house to her bedroom. Finding it again with a bit of difficulty.

*Warm and safe and soothing?*

Almost.

Ungraciously dropping her on her bed, he tapped his heel on the floor expectantly and the human took the hint that he wanted her to get under the covers.

“Well?” she asked, as the jet moved closer to sit beside her.

“Your…assistance. I appreciate it.” For a moment, there was sincerity. And then it was gone. The seeker quickly stood up again, walking over to the window. “You should get on with your recharge cycle.” There was a reservation to his tone. Holding back, feeling out of place.

“Yeah, I’ll-“ she was cut off by the sight of Starscream climbing out of the window.

“Goodnight, uh- Starscream!” she waved awkwardly, getting out of bed to run over to the open window just in time to watch as he transformed and flew away into the darkness. So much for keeping a low profile, it was a wonder he hadn’t broken glass and set off car alarms with that sound.

A beautiful sound, a beautiful jet and she could almost make out the starlight shimmering on his newly cleaned finish. Silently hoping he wouldn’t fly into a cloud and get it wet, she returned to her bed and turned off the lights.

Starscream shot up into the sky, climbing into the depth of the night and circling the area until he saw her lights go out. The wind flowing over his wings once more was something he could never take for granted. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought the wind was flowing just a little bit smoother over his skin than it usually did. It was a clear night, making the stars and this planet’s lone moon shine even the more brighter. Reflecting off him. A sudden wave of melancholy hit his spark, traversing these skies alone. And Starscream realised at this moment that he’d been alone, that he’d been alone all this time. Even when he had been part of the Decepticons. Perhaps even more so then, when the bots around him were more akin to liabilities than allies. He hadn’t bothered to befriend them.

Why settle, when he knew would be less than what he’d once had?

How could he have ever made them into his friends when he had already lost the ones closest to his spark?

When he knew no connection he could make again would ever compare?

There was no trine to accompany him anymore, Skywarp and Thundercracker only a leftover memory from the times when he couldn’t have imagined going at it on his own like this for so long. But he had survived without them. Grown stronger, he decided. Yes, that couldn’t be disputed. A consolation prize for his loss. Primus’ joke at his expense. He wondered briefly if getting himself cleaned by this human was an insult to their memory. It had been their job, now done by an organic. The thought didn’t last long as he remembered that they would’ve probably yelled at him for not finding someone to help him preen sooner, and even if just for a moment it brought a smile to his faceplate. Although still unsure how he felt about this human, he knew one thing for certain: He was going to make this up to her, get even.

For one reason or another.

[starscream-is-my-wife]

Redraw of something from an private ask

I think the only popular ship he has where they don’t try to murder each other is probably his trine lol

(although he did kill both of them in the marvel comics I choose to forget that)

[metaknighto]

got into transformers and hyperfixating on this guy in particular. when I went into the comic book store I saw this sparkly little fuck as soon as I went in so now he’s my little emotional support shithead

[ask-a-bot]

I was swatching lipstick to see what would look good and it stained and it looks like a massive bruise any tips on how to get lipstick out of metal?

With a flame thrower!

Starscream! No! Why would you...? No!

What do you use?

Warm solvent in my favourite scent. Naturally. Why would you tell someone to use a flamethrower?

To see what they do.

I would take it as a favour if you would refrain.

Am I hurting your brain?

Just stop!

Forwarding my slag to you?

Starscream! Go to your room.

OK.

Stop forwarding your slag to me... stop forwarding your slaaaaaaaaag to me! To me!

What a delightful song. Hhhrrrrrrrrgh! Younglings!

[trashhicon]

Here’s a starscream line conture wip. Posting this in case I fuck it up when I water color 😭

[thescreaminghat]

got some energon

[cosmics-beings]

wrt to humanformers stuff....okay making a decepticon dark skinned when they're a decepticon, but then changing them to be white/light skinned when they're an autobot or in their shattered glass version is racist.

[skettchyartendevours]

Hello, folks! Apologies for my recent inactivity For now, here's a little scribble of Starscream. He's just so happy to be in this situation :]

[yunisketch]

BAHAHAHA THIS IS AMAZING I LOVE IT SO MUCH

go read https://archiveofourown.org/works/22849831/chapters/54611944 it's the good shit

[revelboo]

i need you to know this because i find it hilarious; you update so often that tumblr's notification feature doesnt work for your blog any more xD IT GAVE UP!

Woo! I broke Tumblr AND Megatron 🤣

I’m going to make it worse- I’m sorry 18+ mass displaced mechs 🌶️

Everything Is Alright Pt 91

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• Maybe he’s overreacting. There’s no possible way all of his followers are fragging humans behind his back. Seekers are just a bit weird, nothing new there. Vortex he already knew was a freak, but Soundwave was unexpected. Especially sharing with Starscream. Those two don’t even speak with each other. No, he doesn’t even want to go there or think about that. So there are five deviants among how many Decepticons on earth? A tiny percentage. Nothing to concern himself with. Head lifting at the sound of peds, he stiffens as the Constructicons pass by him, inclining their heads. Scavenger saluting him with the limp form of a human dangling from his servos their legs swinging. “You have one, too?” He growls, turning and stalking away. “Is everyone here fragging humans?”

• “What now with humans?” Mixmaster asks, sounding genuinely surprised. Optics narrowing at the Constructicons, he stalks off, back the way he’d come. Because he’s going to have answers. Even if he has to beat them out of Starscream.

• Shivering with sensitivity as Starscream’s mouth moves against yours, glossa tangling with your tongue, you whimper. Aware of Soundwave still lazily rocking himself against you, his spike stroking inside you as you touch your tongue to Star’s glossa. Of Soundwave’s servos flexing against your hips as he begins to move faster, the wet sound of his spike inside you as he rocks himself urgently against you until he makes a low, humming sound of pleasure and releases again. Of Star growling against your mouth to make you realize you’re making a mess on him.

• Hips rocking in shallow thrusts against you, Soundwave relaxes into the feel of you, your body fisting his spike and the wild, chaos of your mind cradled in his, both so familiar he’s not sure he can live without them. And so much more intense when he’s inside you, that connection liquid fire in his lines. Lighting him up with your thoughts and Starscream’s whether he wants them or not. Making him aware of every other Decepticon in the base and the handful of humans, too. All those minds sparking through him, until it nearly hurts. Lips brushing the back of your neck as he vents against your skin, he wonders if bonding you to him will make it easier to block out the unwanted thoughts or make it worse.

• Optics hooded as you make a soft sound when Soundwave slips free of you, Starscream reaches up to move your hair from your face, servos stroking over the curve of your cheek. Ignoring Soundwave, he frees his spike and croons at you when you reach for him and guide him to you. Hooking an arm around you and rolling you under him, hearing your startled moan. As much as he loves watching you take his spike, he wants control. Wants to pin you and breed you. Claim what’s his so fully you’ll forget all about Soundwave. Won’t need anyone but him.

• Servos trembling as he eases back to sit and watch the Seeker thrusting against you, Soundwave can still feel both of your minds, the effect lingering. Optics shuttering as your pleasure rings through him, becoming his. Intoxicating him as he listens to the sounds you make and Starscream’s low snarls. When Starscream pulls back the panels protecting his spark, claiming you that way while he takes your body, that jolts through him, too. Feeling that lonely ache of longing, even as he tries to disentangle his mind from yours. Because that’s too intimate to intrude on. Wanting it for himself he watches you arch under the Seeker with a ragged cry, bathed in the light of his spark.

• “Starscream-” Ready to seize the Seeker by the wings and shake the answers out of him, he stops short just inside the habsuite. Seeing Soundwave mass displaced still, sitting on the floor, spike slick and shiny against his thigh, his head turning away from watching Starscream rutting against the little human. Most of you hidden by the Seeker as he thrusts urgently against you, the scandalously wet sound mingling with the noises you’re making and the Seeker’s own growling. It’s the faint glow of Starscream’s spark limning your limbs as you writhe under him that shocks him the most. Because this isn’t just interfacing. This is almost taboo, illicit. Realizing his SIC has spark bonded a human, not just fragged one.

• Toes curling at the intensity of losing yourself in him, in the bond and the feel of his spike thrusting relentlessly inside you. Pinning you under him, hips snapping against you as you feel him venting against you. Surrounded by him and safety. Home. Feel something shift between you, almost a question as the warmth that’s him wraps more firmly around you. Coaxing and you’re not sure what he’s asking, there’s no words, but you still surrender willingly. His thrusts becoming rougher, more erratic and urgent. Mouth brushing your throat and denta sinking into your shoulder, that unexpected lick of pain tripping you over the edge. Hands clinging to him as he drives deep, shuddering against you as he finishes.

• Sliding an arm under the back of your head, wings trembling, his glossa slides against your shoulder. Hadn’t meant to bite hard enough to draw blood, but hadn’t been able to help himself. It had felt too good, too intense mixing interfacing and spark play. Just wants to linger in this moment. Enjoy the feel of you as your warm fingers slide against the mesh of his neck, down to dabble in his spark. The feel of you stroking through him triggering another release, his entire frame shuddering. “Lord Megatron,” Soundwave says, those words shattering his peace as his head lifts, denta bared and wings flaring out. Aware of you so vulnerable under him, stringing him tight and pushing him closer to losing control. Because right now, he’ll kill to keep what he has.

Previous

Next

You can order individual Blokees off of EBay. Folks buy entire cases hunting the rare figures then sell off the rest there. My one Constructicon and Nemesis Prime were blind boxes, the rest I bought as singles that way.

[lockheed-martin-unofficial]

Starscream is given a bath, Part 4:

Bet y’all thought I was done with this. I’m not done, I was just stuck on this part for a really long time. It wasn’t going the way I wanted it to, but then again, I always have doubts when it comes to Starscream’s characterization.

Anyway, it ended up being pretty long. 1298 words. I’m not all too satisfied with it, but I gotta just post it and move on.

Part 3: here

Part 5: here

——————————————————————————

“Starscream.”

He opened his optics once more, taking a few seconds to recalibrate. It appeared that he had actually fallen into a recharge without noticing. He looked down at himself, seeing that his arms and chest were looking…shinier than usual. He flexed his digits, touching the tip of every talon to his thumb. She’d done a good job, for a human. Collecting himself but still feeling a little drowsy, Starscream looked down at her.

“Yes? What is it?”

“I need to clean your vents.”

He bristled at that statement, his expression quickly turning sour. “You don’t need to do that.” He waved a servo, wings flattening behind his back.

“Come on, would you rather be breathing dirty air for the rest of your life?”

“My cooling system cleans itself.” He huffed. “I thought you knew that by now.”

“Your air filtration and internal components do. The vents don’t. They’re external.” Damnit, why did she have to know so much about cybertronian biology? The human reached up, her hands grabbing onto the vents on both sides of his face and tugging on them. He grumbled at that, still wanting to avoid this wretched fate. Nevertheless, he allowed her to pull him down. He knew by now that arguing would be pointless.

“I won’t get any water in, I’m just gonna run a towel over them.” She let go of him, stepping out of the bathtub. She quietly walked to a cabinet, opening it and grabbing a soft little towel. The human ran some warm water over it, before squeezing out the excess and returning to him.

“Lean on the side of the tub, please?”

He didn’t say anything, but did as told. His wings were hanging low, as flat as they possibly could be. Seriously? Did he hate vent cleaning that much?

“This won’t hurt a bit, I promise.”

He only grumbled in response.

The human brought the towel up to him, first rubbing it over his faceplate to wipe off anything that wasn’t cleaned by the initial run of water. She cleaned him with the soft cloth using one hand, the other holding onto the side of his vent intake to keep him still. Starscream had shut his optics as tightly as possible, not moving an inch during this part of the cleanup.

“That’s nice, isn’t it?” She asked, her voice gentle as if talking to a child. “Doesn’t that warmth feel so soothing, Starscream?”

“Don’t patronize me.” He replied, his voice muffled from the towel she kept rubbing on his face. The human just chuckled at the sight.

“Now if you just tilt your head back, I can move on to the vents.”

He did as instructed, but she could easily see how tense he was. Starscream’s servos gripped the sides of the bathtub, holding himself still. She tilted his chin up ever so slightly, noting that the seeker still refused to open his optics. Slowly and being as gentle as possible, she pressed the towel into his vents, using her fingers to assist in cleaning any grime off the grilles. The process went smoothly for the most part, Starscream obviously uncomfortable but managing to keep himself still. All the way until-

He yelled and kicked up the water when she touched a bad spot, his servos finding and gripping her wrists as he pulled her away from himself.

“That’s enough touching, thank you very much.” Starscream scrambled away to the other corner of the tub, a flash of irritation on his faceplate and a defensiveness to his mannerisms.

“Hang on, I think I saw something in there.”

The seeker wrapped his arms around his frame, pulling his knees all the way up to his chest. The human let out a soft sigh, sitting on the side of the tub and trying to sound as gentle as possible.

“Do you want me to get it?”

He met her gaze and the look on his faceplate momentarily shifted as though she’d just offered to rip his spark out. Then, his expression changed again to one of contemplation. He knew this was going to hurt. But he also knew that he was going to feel much worse over the long run if she didn’t get it out. Could she really, though? Get it out?

Starscream could tolerate pain, best to just get it over with. Better her than asking the Autobots for help. Fine, he’d trust her to get it out.

“Fine. Just… be quick about it?” He asked, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his voice.

The human nodded, and Starscream shuffled back to his previous spot, unusually timid. He was partially acting, pretending to be more scared than he actually was with the hope that it’d earn him a gentler touch.

“Try not to make any sudden moves, alright? I won’t lose a finger if you flinch, not there, but please… be mindful of your strength.”

“Right. The usual.” He replied with a tiny chuckle and a subtle crack of his voice.

Evidently, it had worked. She held his faceplate between her hands, positioning it just right so she could see inside the grilles- which he had feathered to a 90-degree angle for better access.

“Thank you.”

She leaned forward, peering inside. Once she had a good look at the piece of debris, she spoke up.

“Okay, I’m gonna start now. Don’t panic.”

Starscream didn’t resist, just kept his optics shut hoping that this would all be done soon. Carefully, the human reached her fingers inside- this felt weird. This felt so weird. Cooling vents were not supposed to have anything solid entering them. Not so deep. Even though he knew the human’s hand was there to help him, that she was not a threat, he had to clench his servos in order to ignore every coded instinct telling him to keep his vents clear, to remove the obstruction that was her hand immediately.

He was so focused on keeping still that he didn’t even realised she was done until his temperature regulation system suddenly stopped yelling at him. Hesitantly opening his optics once more, he was met with the sight of the human looking down at him, a shard of metal in her hand covered in dried energon.

The first thing he felt was relief, as he took in a strong intake of air and a slight smile found its way to his faceplate.

That hadn’t hurt all that much.

“See? Got it out. didn’t hurt too much, I hope.”

Seeing as he didn’t reply, she continued.

“But I think it left behind a cut, do you need me t-“

Oh no. He knew exactly what she was going to ask, and he wouldn’t allow it.

“No, no need!” he suddenly cut her off, and grabbed the piece of shrapnel from her hand, examining it. “If this is all that was in there… my frame will be able to repair any leftover damage on its own now.”

He turned his gaze back down to her.

“As helpful as you have been, I’d rather not have you rooting through my internals any longer than you absolutely have to. Especially there.” he explained, an aversion of his optics accompanying that last word. He didn’t want to seem rude, especially after all this human had done.

“Hmm, that’s fair. I guess I see why it’d be uncomfortable if our roles were reversed.”

He was relieved at her understanding. Well, his problem was solved. He should probably thank her for that. Starscream scoffed. He was doing too much thanking today.

“I’m…grateful. For the help.”

She smiled. Huh. There she went again. He could really get used to that.

“Don’t mention it. Must’ve been painful. And besides, it’s not time to thank me yet. We’ve still gotta do your wings.”

[saritamanyalu]

Starscream and Sentinel bonding moment where they help them clean each other's wings and Starscream is like "damn, bitch, you live like this?" When he sees how much dirt is stuck in the small crevices.

Two birds taking bath

[radioactiverats]

Mentor Starscream x reader!seeker (9/?)

Starscream has somehow… gotten you a new set of wings (don’t question it don’t question it). Your suffering at the hands of Megatron is the last straw, acting as the trigger point for Starscream’s first attempt to assassinate Megatron. It goes as well as you’d think. There is a cave involved.

It is 3am BUT one more ramble before my week of holidays end (sob sob)!!

—

The feeling that something is wrong stirs you back to the land of the living.

Your frame feels... off.

For some reason, you feel heavier than usual, and you struggle to make sense of the freshly pinging sensors in your... new set of wings.

You have a new set of wings.

You hear a voice - Knockout? - shouting in alarm as you scramble up with a clatter to inspect a set of wings that aren't yours. Not your paint. Not in a shape you recognised. Not yours, not yours, not yours - it feels so wrong to be bolted to someone else, someone you don’t know - where did these come from? The thought slams with dizzying force into your processor and you fall still, suddenly icy with terror. You're wearing a dead bot's wings. The realisation launches you into a blind panic. “Get them off!” You screech, vocaliser glitching. Any way you move, you can see them, feel them - had wings always been so heavy? Knockout’s servos on your freshly repaired, overly sensitive frame only drive you even further into a frenzy even as he’s trying to stop you from tearing at your wings - shouting into his comm over the cacophony of terror that rings through your processor. Just as you think you’re really going to lose it, you’re all at once bathed in the reassurance of a familiar EM field, which douses the worst of your panic. You slowly become aware of thrumming warmth around you, red and blue paint, a neon orange cockpit. Arms cradling you tightly, as if afraid you were going to fall apart, and the low croon of Vosian in your audials. Starscream.

You immediately latch onto him, greedily soaking in the comfort of his EM field. There’s no doubt you’re making a mess of his frame with coolant and energon but Starscream pays it no mind. He pulls you onto his lap, a large servo cupping the back of your helm to securely tuck your faceplate into his neck as you shudder against him, frame wracked with sobs.

“No more pain,” Starscream murmurs, and you allow yourself to be soothed by the high trills and clicks of your native tongue. Comfort doesn’t last long, though - you involuntarily press closer to Starscream, and that tiny movement sends a sense of wrongness shooting through your frame, clumsy with a heaviness you’re not used to - reminding you all over again that you have someone else’s wings.

“It feels wrong,” You hiccup, “My wings - what happened to my wings-?”

Starscream’s arms tighten around you.

“I promised you would fly again,” He murmurs. “These are your wings now.”

“B-but how?”

You go still in his grasp, stiff as a board. “Who?”

The servo stroking your helm stills.

The few nanokliks where you hold your breath, awaiting his answer, are tortuous.

“…Long gone.”

You pull back to look at him properly. Worry twists his sharp features, but his optics hold yours steadily.

Your servos dig into his arms. “Promise?”

Behind you, you don’t see Knockout turn away to hide the expression on his faceplate. One of you is accustomed to lying, and it’s not Knockout.

Starscream’s answering rasp is gentle as it is hypnotic.

“…Promise.”

You have no reason not to trust him.

——

Everything after you leave Knockout’s med bay feels strangely normal. There is no ‘aftermath’, no dramatic change to the status quo. You are merely another statistic in Megatron’s ever-growing list of cruel deeds.

The only difference is that Starscream is strangely jumpy. He’s constantly tense, on high alert every time you hear pedesteps outside your shared habsuite - deliberately evasive, and somehow, you see even less of him than you usually do.

No one gives you a hard time, either. It’s all so weirdly normal that you’re more or less prepared to shrug it off, pass it off as another busy period - perhaps Megatron is planning another offensive. The ghostly pains that flash through your frame aren’t that bad, and it wouldn’t be the first time you barely get to see Starscream, anyway.

That is, until you’re circling the grassy plain in your altmode one evening, prepared to finish your training for the day. You’d been spending more time trying to get used to your new wings - broader wingspan, greater speed - flying feels better than ever, but from high above the ground, you spot him next to your landing pad. Waiting for you.

You land, precisely, perfectly, the way he taught you. You hope he’s pleased - but instead of the approval you hoped for, there’s something strange in his expression as he watches you.

“Listen carefully,” Starscream rasps. His frame is still, even as a gust of wind ruffles the Terran grass around you. “Go to these coordinates. Do not let yourself be found at any cost.”

You hadn’t wanted to admit it for a while, but he’s frightening you.

“Sir?”

Starscream’s optics are strangely bright, glittering with an unsettling sheen.

“Now.”

You want to argue. Want to insist he tell you what’s been eating away at him for countless solar cycles. But the way he looks at you is almost pleading. Needing you to play your part in whatever he’s planned. Even as you take to the air, his optics never leave yours. His severe posture, his unreadable expression, are burned into your processor as you speed to the coordinates he’s given you, even as you can’t shake the unsettling feeling.

The coordinates he’s given you lead to energon mine, a cave system so far off the grid for both Terrans and Cybertronians alike that you actually feel relatively secure being here. How had Starscream even known about this location? Another thought springs unbidden to your processor.

Had he been keeping this location from Megatron?

A prickling feeling of unease crawls up your spinal strut. I mean, you know this is not normal. None of this has ever been normal. But a cave? Which was starting to feel more and more like a hideout?

Solar cycles pass. You desperately try to keep yourself from succumbing to panic by tasking yourself to dig raw energon from the rocky walls of the cave, a repetitive activity that keeps you just the least bit grounded. You should never have left Starscream alone. Surely he would come for you. Surely he was okay.

You get your answer a few joors later in the form of an explosive comm. Knockout’s voice blasts tersely into your audials.

“-treason. Failed attempt to assassinate Megatron. Stand by.”

Suddenly, the abundance of energon you’d dug out seemed lacking for the imminent disaster.

Treason?

There was no way. There was no way Starscream would go to such lengths - their was no way he had tried to -

Had he?

The acrid smell of spilt energon and the screaming roar of engines on full speed give you your answer.

Knockout staggers into view as he more or less drags Starscream’s limp frame into the cave. You can barely recognise your commander with the amount of energon that coats his battered frame, and you choke back a sob as you stumble forwards to meet them.

“Megatron knew,” Knockout says through gritted denta, as he lowers Starscream to the ground. “Starscream tried to - he wanted to take over. But Soundwave found out.”

Knockout’s yanking an assortment of medical tools from his subspace, tools clattering across the cold floor.

“His null ray may as well have been useless because Megatron saw it coming. But he decided to repay Starscream in kind.” The smoking hole in Starscream’s chassis tells you all you need to know.

“These are all the tools I can spare without drawing suspicion. As of now, Megatron thinks that Starscream managed to get away from base, but has sustained life-threatening injuries in the process and therefore… will succumb sooner or later.”

The look he gives you is apologetic, knowing, and regretful all at once. “My intake is sealed, cadet,” He says.

“I hope we meet again, if Primus wills it.”

With a squeal of tires, Knockout is gone.

That leaves only you and Starscream. Starscream, who has a gaping hole in his chassis and is losing energon fast.

“Oh, frag,” You chant, throwing yourself at Knockout’s medical supplies, “Frag, frag, frag - ”

Starscream twitches, a pained frown on his faceplate - had he heard that?

“Stay with me,” You mutter, as you finally find the tool you’re looking for. Thank Primus for Ratchet. Factions be damned, you’ll send him a fragging gift basket if Starscream pulls through. Knockout had left you a jar of nanites - you frantically dump all of them into the jagged hole that mars Starscream’s chassis, so dangerously close to his spark - and pray that his self-repairing mechanisms kick into gear as you get to work.

By some miracle, his frame doesn’t reject your attempts to fix him - but it’s only joors later that you dare to hope that he’ll make it, after all. The gaping hole left by Megatron’s cannon looks better, if you can call it that - no longer as devastating now that you’ve soldered wires and fuel lines back together, waiting for mesh to knit itself together again. Now, you just need him to wake up because the rapidly growing pool of energon beneath him isn’t doing your nerves any favours and he had to be online to ingest the energon you’d dug out, replenish his drained systems.

Exhausted, you desperately wave a chunk of raw energon in front of his faceplate.

“Sir. Sir, it’s me. Wake up!”

You put it down to the chunk of energon, but by some divine intervention, Starscream’s systems do sputter to life immediately after - he immediately groans when the pain inevitably hits, but it’s much more manageable compared to the last memory stored in his processor. Megatron raising his cannon, optics cold. Searing heat in his chassis before the explosion of agony, crumpling to the ground, energon pouring over his servos, restraints, unforgiving blows, pain, pain, pain - “Sir!”

His optics snap open.

Your faceplate above his, frantic. It’s you. You’re safe. He’s not there anymore.

“Where - ?”

“The coordinates you gave me.” Starscream can see that you’re trying incredibly hard to keep it together, plates drawn tight and frame quivering. There’s a streak of energon on your faceplate - his? Before he can think, he’s reaching a trembling servo up to cup your faceplate, thumb stroking over your cheek. “It’s been a few solar cycles.”

Coolant - is that coolant dripping down your faceplate? You lean into his servo, unable to hold back an ex-vent of relief at the warmth of his frame - proof that he’s still alive.

“I’m here,” He rumbles, as if you’re the one who needs reassuring, as if he’s not the one with a smoking hole in his chassis. “Told you I wouldn’t be so easy to get rid of, didn’t I?”

A lame attempt at normalcy, but it seems to work - you huff out a weak laugh, shaking your helm as you reach for a roll of bandages.

“I just welded these,” You say. “We don’t have Knockout anymore, so it’s probably better to keep your welds bandaged while they’re fresh.”

Ah. That was another question that had been brewing in Starscream’s processor as he slowly came back online. Knockout had fixed the hole in his chassis, right? He was the only one who had the knowledge to do so - and yet, glancing around the cave, bandages and medical tools were strewn haphazardly around, as if they’d been left in a hurry. Knockout’s perfectionist streak would never have allowed that. There’s something he’s missing here. His optics slide to you, your glossa poking out and faceplate furrowed in concentration as you wrap his arm.

With a critical eye, Starscream watches you work for a few kliks. “When did your bandaging get to be passably neat?”

You freeze, mid-wrap.

Well. He’s in no condition to whoop your aft. You might as well come clean, since you’re more or less on your own side right now.

“I asked Ratchet to teach me,” You mutter.

Starscream stiffens.

“…The Autobot medic?”

Oh boy.

“The one and only.”

“How-? You can’t have - oh.”

Abruptly, Starscream falls silent. Rendering him speechless is no easy task, but you’re not sure whether this is the right time for celebration.

“That was what you were doing.”

You resolutely do not meet his optics, stubbornly continuing to bandage his welds.

Too weak to hide it, his EM field tells you all you need to know, anyway.

Static distorts his vocaliser as his voice rises in a screech. “How could you be so reckless?”

Even while prone and severely injured, it seems that the idea of you in danger is enough to spur him back to life. Maybe you should have recounted your misadventures to him earlier.

“And for what?” Starscream continues to rant. “What if they’d kept you captive? What if they tortured you? Did you even think about what happens to prisoners of war - ”

“It worth it,” You interrupt, “because it was for you.”

Silence descends abruptly upon you both.

You chance a look at Starscream - his intake is hanging open, optics wide. It would be funny, if it weren’t for the severe injuries and the whole cave and treason situation.

…Okay, so maybe it is a little bit funny. Meanwhile, Starscream’s systems have more or less gone haywire - you hear the telltale sound of a reboot.

Him?

You -

You got yourself captured -

For him.

For - had you been anticipating this?

He’d never questioned how you managed to repair him every time, when all the puzzle pieces were right in front of him.

Yet another thing he had failed to factor in.

…Did you really care that much? Was he really worth so much to you?

He’s definitely spiralling. Worriedly, you wave a servo in front of his faceplate.

“Hello? Earth to Commander Starscream.”

Starscream’s optics cycle and narrow in, razor-sharp, onto your faceplate.

You brace yourself for another scolding - but unexpectedly, just when you think he’s about to bust a fuel line, a tired ex-vent is all that leaves him.

“I told you I’d find out eventually.”

You remain silent, unsure what he wants to hear from you.

“The truth, cadet,” Starscream says, optics narrowed. Almost as if he could hear your thoughts - then again, he’d always been able to read you easily.

“You did the repairs? All by yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Because Ratchet taught you?”

“…Yes.”

“Because you snuck off to learn how to do so.”

The last one sounds more like a statement than a question, but you defiantly lift your chin, meeting his optics to answer anyway.

“Yes.”

Come what may, you need him to know you don’t regret your decision. Today has simply proved to you that your gamble had paid off.

After a moment, Starscream ex-vents, but reaches a servo out to you - you help him sit up, leaning against a rock, and his servos gently curl around your wrist to pull you into a delicate embrace.

“One day I’m going to have a spark attack if you keep worrying me like that,” He scolds, but it’s gentle. Even now, worrying about you, as if he’s not the one who’s grievously injured right now.

You mash your faceplate against his good shoulder. Silence is the best option right now, you think. The second-best option is to make sure Starscream fuels up on enough energon to finish self-repairs, and you are a mech of many talents, so you grope blindly around for a chunk of raw energon and shove it in the general direction of Starscream’s intake.

Muffled sounds of indignant outrage tell you you’ve probably hit your mark. Whether out of necessity or to humour you, Starscream accepts it anyway.

The colour of his frame is looking much better, but he’ll need a few solar cycles at least to regain full functionality.

When you meet Starscream’s optics again, you know that you’re both thinking the same thing - you’ve bought yourselves precious time to consider your next steps.

Previous / Previous bonus / Next

[techhiz]

G1 starscream with femme autobot reader who’s like the only nice one to him pls! And when they secretly meet up she gives him kisses hehe

Winds of Affection.

The war between Autobots and Decepticons painted the galaxy in endless conflict, where camaraderie was rare and alliances tenuous. Yet, even amidst the chaos, some bonds flourished in the shadows.

Starscream, the cunning and ambitious second-in-command of the Decepticons, found himself drawn to an unlikely figure: you, a kind and compassionate femme Autobot. You were the only one who treated him with genuine kindness, a stark contrast to the scorn and ridicule he often endured from both sides.

It had been during a standoff on a distant planet when you first showed Starscream kindness. He had been injured, his wing scorched from a failed maneuver, and while others would have taken the opportunity to eliminate him, you hesitated.

“Hold still,” you’d said softly, offering him a small dose of Energon.

Starscream had stared at you in disbelief. “You… you’re helping me? Why?”

You’d simply shrugged. “You looked like you needed it.”

That moment had lingered in his mind, the memory of your warm optics and gentle touch etched into his spark.

Since then, you and Starscream had found ways to meet in secret. It wasn’t easy; the risk of discovery loomed over both of you like a shadow. But the fleeting moments you shared were worth the danger.

One night, the two of you met in a secluded valley, far from the prying optics of your factions. The moonlight bathed the landscape in a soft glow, and the air hummed with a rare sense of peace.

“You’re late,” Starscream said as you approached, though his tone was more teasing than accusatory.

You chuckled. “Blame the Decepticon patrols. They’re getting better at their job.”

“Unlikely,” he scoffed, though a smirk tugged at his lips.

You stepped closer, your servos brushing against his as you leaned in. “I missed you.”

Starscream’s optics softened, a vulnerability in them he showed only to you. “I… missed you too,” he admitted, his voice quieter.

Leaning up, you pressed a kiss to his cheek plating. His optics widened briefly before he closed them, leaning into the affection like a starved mech savoring the warmth.

“Why are you so good to me?” he murmured.

“Because you deserve it,” you replied, pressing another kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Despite the joy your meetings brought, the weight of keeping your relationship secret was heavy. Both Autobots and Decepticons would view your bond as a betrayal.

“You know we can’t keep this up forever,” Starscream said one night, his tone unusually somber.

“I know,” you said, resting your helm against his chest. “But I’m not ready to let go. Are you?”

Starscream hesitated before wrapping his arms around you. “Never.”

The sound of his spark pulsing beneath his armor was soothing, a reminder of the connection you shared.

One evening, as you parted ways, Starscream surprised you by pulling you into a deep kiss. His lips met yours with a mix of desperation and longing, as though he feared it might be the last time.

When you pulled back, you were breathless, your optics wide.

“What was that for?” you asked, a soft laugh escaping you.

Starscream smirked, though his optics betrayed his nervousness. “Consider it… a promise. That no matter what happens, you’ll always have me.”

You smiled, your spark swelling with affection. “I’ll hold you to that.”

As the two of you went your separate ways once more, you couldn’t help but feel that, despite the war raging around you, you’d found something worth fighting for.

And Starscream, for all his bravado and ambition, knew he’d found the one being who truly saw him—not as a power-hungry Decepticon, but as a mech capable of love.

[megtrns]

thinking about the different kind of lovers megatron would be across timelines (nsfw!) (mdni!) (tfp, mtmte & transformers one) tw : rough sex, voyeurism, megatron being megatron

01. TFP Megatron is a callous warlord, if not a little cruel. And even if it was never in his intention to hurt his little human (because he's grown too attached to go through the trouble of replacing you), his roughness still bleeds into the bedroom. Sharp dentas, long claws: they were bound to leave marks on your body. But while they were never enough to injure, they were always enough to remind you that he placed them there on purpose. Megatron doesn't make mistakes ; every move is calculated and deliberate. Because whenever he runs his servos down the hickeys along the column of your throat, you can tell from the look in his optics that the sight gave him a special kind of high that not even dark energon can replicate.

He moves like he's been starved, bending you over tables and thrones, and sometimes, Megatron doesn't care for interruption. Once (without his mass displaced) as he was occupied with you in his throne room, a single talon circling your entrance as you sat across his lap, he had summoned a meeting — your back arched and eyes shut, legs spread open for his scientists and second-in-command to see. (It's safe to say that you and Starscream couldn't look at each other in the eye for weeks).

He doesn't make love. But on the days when he has the patience for it, and there is no urgency above the nemesis, Megatron moves with deep, shallow thrusts that leaves you on the edge of sobbing. With both wrists pinned above your head, he wants you to look — to watch as he slowly pushes into you. He wants you to feel every stretch, every delicious burn, unable to decide if he enjoys the sound of you begging more than the feel of your wet, human valve. And even when his mass is displaced, it still takes you some time to get used to him. Always, the pain was fleeting and barely there, quickly replaced by a growing heat that unfurls from your abdomen throughout your body. He treats you like a stretch of land for him to conquer and take  — who are you to deny him? Under his commands, your body does nothing but surrender to the raw pleasure each time. 02. MTMTE Megatron would be hesitant , apprehensive about this new relationship between you and him. He would initially withhold himself, only going as far as peppering kisses down your chest before retreating in guilt. On the days where he feels too undeserving, he'll act withdrawn and even cold, leaving you to wake up alone — the imprint of his body against the sheets the only thing convincing you that you hadn't dreamt him up. You tell him you're sick of it : of the push and pull and the slow, dull ache that rises to your chest whenever he refuses to look at you in the eyes.

But Megatron was always somewhat obsessive. He used to want a lot of things : the war, the fighting, the victories. But you made him feel like that was another life altogether. These days, all he could want was you spread out underneath him : chest to chassis, heartbeat singing along to the thrum of his spark. The image of your spine, bathed under the faint starlight creeping past the windows, running amok within his processors.

So somewhere along the way, he gives in. For the first time in millennia, he let's himself want — the taste of your mouth against his was the closest thing to benediction he'd ever received. Like a sinner sinking into his knees, Megatron seeks atonement with his helm between your legs, glossa slow and careful as both servos knead the curve of your waist. He says he likes giving more than receiving, eager to please, the mech's always been a little poetic (you don't expect less from him.) But you knew his guilty pleasure was losing himself to the feel of your mouth against his spike, soft and wet, so foreign to his sharp and unyielding world.

03. TF ONE D-16 is curious, all wide-optics and eager to learn. He doesn't think too much about the consequences of misusing his newly found T-cog to displace his mass so that he can see optic to eye with the little alien who had escaped a Quintesson ship. As much as he tries to act as the more responsible one between him and Orion, D-16 is still young. And like all young and healthy mechs (yet to be scarred by war), he has the usual appetite for visual contraband that had been smuggled and circulated into the mining sectors. He has never been the one to indulge in...strange preferences, but he’s heard about them before.

Of wealthy mechs and their voyages off worlds, where they'd suffocate themselves in exotic luxuries and mingle with all sorts of alien species — organics, particularly, were always tucked away somewhere in the furthest most empty corners of the galaxies. They are as rare as they come, only growing to become a popular genre of fantasy for Cybetron in the past decade. So, realising that he had one currently sitting across him, so squishy and gentle, D-16 had to swallow his shame when the request to pressurise his spike pinged to life within his internal processor.

Somewhere along the way, as you two were being held in a windowless prison by the High Guard, you’ve end up like this : with your shirt hiked up and his servos impatiently circling your back to pull you close. While you both couldn't understand one another, there is a universal kind of language in wanting. And you could see a kind of appetite in his electric, yellow eyes — as if he wanted to eat you. From the staring whenever you're bending over or fixing your clothes to the sudden surge of possessiveness whenever the other red and blue bot tried to hold you. Now, the second you are alone, he shrinks himself down to your size. There was a silent question in the air waiting to come to life, and as he waited, the air had grown taut and thin with tension. It was a good thing you had nothing to lose, choosing to answer his question by taking big, bold strides across the room and crashing your lips against his.

At first, you struggled to slot yourself against his armor: the hard surface and edges just wouldn't weld with your limbs. But he was persistent, and so you tried your best to breach the language barrier and teach him, satisfied that he's already learning not to bite you too hard. It was rough and fast and sloppy : a lot of fumbling and bumping into one another. And by the time you both got the hang of it, you were sticky and sweaty everywhere, the surface of his metal armor heating up against your skin. He had you pressed down against the floor, ass up in the air as he finally succeeds in pushing the head of his dick past your soaking, aching cunt. You both moaned in relief, his voice a broken jumble of foreign whirs and clicks. He paws experimentally at your chest, the noise between your bodies wet and obscene. You two must've looked like rabbits, and you were too far gone to care, letting him have his way with you if it meant you were going out with a good time.

[zeropro]

I love your Thundercracker design so much. I've always been a big fan of the guy. What's your opinion of him if you don’t mind me asking?

I like him! he’s more difficult for me to draw because of his helm design but he completes the trio and I like that he’s here. just a solid, dependable, responsible older brother type who’s also kinda conservative.

LET ME EXPLAIN

thundercracker has morals, but they’re like “don’t do genocide” type morals, he only gets brownie points for having them because he’s with the decepticons, and even then he’ll like justify to himself why it’s probably fine most of the time because the movement he’s a part of tells him it’s fine.

it’s giving: good boy drafted into war and wants to believe it was meaningful but becomes disillusioned with his political party later in life.

his compassion and willingness to help someone in trouble extends to his inner circle and those directly in his line of sight, otherwise he puts his head down and just wants to be left alone, which is honestly a mood.

he’s also a little bit racist, based on his original toy description

all in all I think he’s neat! I don’t think ive encountered a take on thundercracker I didnt like. I like that he’s a bit of a brute in the original cartoons. I like that he’s got a dog and writes screenplays that arent very good in idw. i like that him and skywarp got to take a bath together in dreamwave, but in seperate oil vats five feet apart because they’re not gay (but also they’re giant robots so five feet is still close enough to touch shoulders because they’re still kinda gay <3). and I like that fan fics like to write him as really fed up with starscream but still cant help but care because they’re trine. and if any media has the three of them standing next to each other I will point and shout (until they inevitably start shooting each other because boys will be boys and we cant have nice things in canon ever!)

in summery, starscream and skywarp are my blorbos. thundercracker isnt a blorbo, because he’s my dad. 

Or maybe he’s me.