#first aid x reader

[fiber-optic-alligator]

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.

[megtrns]

thinking of the little moments between you and the bots experiencing intimacy together for the first time, how foreign yet exciting it must be to explore one another — the rush, the thrill, the quiet, almost hesitant interactions, where every touch and look feels electrifying. (sfw!) (slightly suggestive)

rodimus urgently running his servos down your body: metal fingers grabbing your thighs and squeezing your hips. too impatient to wait and too eager to slow down, he starts fumbling with the hem of your shirt. unsure of how to undress you, the captain glared at the material as if it had personally insulted him, almost tearing the cotton to shreds. and for a brief second, it was just the two of you standing under the half-light, laughing together as you teach him how to pull it over your neck. he tries to be careful, going as slow as he can even when his hands shake in anticipation — cooling fans growing louder with every inch of skin you reveal underneath.

minimus brushing your hair to the side to reveal your nape, the cold air of the room acting as a delicious counterpoint to the sudden press of his warm mouth against the back of your neck, causing you to shiver. the first kiss had been tentative, shy, and barely ghosting over your skin. you understand that the last thing your lover wants to do is to hurt you, but judging from the noises you're making : breathless and begging, minimus has nothing to worry about. and so the point-one-percenter carefully tilts you forward to continue a path down your bare spine, making you sing into the pillows.

skids staring at you from across the table, servos drumming against the chair. even when your eyes were cast down to read the papers in your hand, you could sense him watching—the gears in his processor turning. you knew it was because you had your glasses on, and for some reason, the mech had taken quite the fascination with them. with a call of your name, you looked up, fully expecting him to distract you with one of his usual hypotheticals. instead, he used a single servo to push your glasses up the bridge of your nose. tilting your face upwards, skids continued to shamelessly stare, flashing you a lopsided grin before swooping down to press his mouth against yours.

first aid trying his best to undo the buttons of your shirt, big, blocky servos struggling against the fabric. you didn’t want to intervene, urging him to continue and using this opportunity to steady your breathing. the medbay was void of any sound, save for the incessant whirring of the monitor systems and machinery faintly beeping in the background. once the last button came undone, it was as if every single noise suddenly ceased to exist. all you could focus on was the medic sinking to his knees, resting the side of his helm against your chest—audials trying to pick up the faint beating of your heart. he said this was for research, but even with his visor, you didn’t miss how his optics followed the flush blooming from your face down your neck.

[ppnuggie]

　　　　　　MTMTE x gn reader

　　　　『　rodimus ,, ultra magnus ,, chromedome ,, rewind ,, megatron ,, whirl ,, tailgate ,, swerve ,, cyclonus ,, first aid ,, ratchet ,, drift ,, gender neutral reader 』

　　-> christmas on the lost light

　　— fluff ,, sfw ,, crack

　　— sorry i havent been uploading as much 😭💔 ive been busy with work and school ,, but im on christmas break so hopefully ill be able to get through the few requests i have sitting in my inbox rn and reopen requests :(( ima try to start uploading more now as much as i can ❤️ heres a little something for christmas though ! hope you all enjoy christmas this year <3

• it was natural for the bots aboard to be interested in human customs ,, having lived in a war most their life . death and violence were something they were quite used to experiencing ,, never really having the time to experience anything outside of the horrors of war itself .

• swerve was one of the few main bots that pestered you often about human holidays . cybertronians didn't celebrate much ,, unless they were a group of autobots who just gave some decepticons a what-for .

• then again ,, swerve usually asked many questions regarding things on earth and what humans do . sometimes you humored him ,, sometimes you told little lies ,, like if you clapped three times in a mall it would be a sign that a tiger was loose . it was quite fun to put silly nonsense in that processor of his at times .

• though when it came to christmas he would not leave you alone . whether you celebrated it or not ,, you still explained the custom in general to him . how old saint nicholas would mosey on down the chimney ,, eat the cookies and drink the milk left out for him ,, and leave presents under the tree lit well and adorned with ornaments .

• you even pulled up the santa tracker for swerve ,, showing him where santa would go and be ,, how on christmas eve he would be flying around with his reindeer and leave presents

• hearing all of this intrigued chromedome and rewind ,, as well as tailgate and whirl . cyclonus didn't understand the hype and belief of having an old random man leave gifts in your house and eat your food even if left out specifically him . tailgate was thrilled though ,, a funny little old man leaving him gifts seemed so heavenly to him . chromedome and rewind ,, however ,, had different opinions . rewind was interested in this human holiday ,, whilst chromedome shared the same opinion as cyclonus . how were you sure this 'santa' guy wasnt gonna rob you ? and when you were sleeping nonetheless .

• rodimus already knew of this tradition ,, as did ratchet and ultra magnus . rodimus was quite ecstatic at the idea of having a christmas party ,, watching christmas movies and sipping on energon . maybe he could even have you sit on his lap ,, all cozy in those soft blankets and sippin on your own mug of hot chocolate .

• ratchet couldnt care less ,, grumbling something about how 'you humans and your holidays and customs' . though he definitely didnt deny the offer of going to this christmas party ,, it was nice to spend some time that didn't involve life threatening situations for once .

• ultra magnus ,, on the other hand ,, was quite picky about how the christmas party should be set up . he even tried to ban home alone ,, saying he didnt want rodimus to get any ideas from the traps in the movie . the last thing he needed was to end up in one the next day . though ,, the many outweigh the few ,, and so home alone was allowed in the movie marathon .

• now when you told him about the grinch ,, he wasnt sure if you were mocking him by saying it was an actual movie or if he should be concerned for what this dr.seuss guy was drawing . i mean ,, have you seen how hairy the grinch is ? or how the whos in whoville are shaped ? pointy noses and all ,, it was quite new to magnus .

• megatron ,, who overheard everything ,, already knew he wasnt going to be wanted at the party . it made sense ,, his past and everything he's done to earth and its people . though when you asked him to come ,, that you personally wanted him there ,, he swore he felt his spark stop for a second . he only gave a nod ,, whilst ravage bickered to him that night in his habsuite .

• whirl ,, to say the least ,, was prepared to fight santa . he was watching the santa tracker ,, waiting for the jolly fellow to pop up so whirl could fly down and bring out the big guns ( that brainstorm recently made ,, not yet tested out or put through a test trial so lord knows what may go wrong) . magnus almost had to throw him in the brig if he couldnt contain his sudden rage and fury for the old man .

• first aid was somewhat interested ,, never having celebrated a holiday before . it would be nice ,, getting together and doing nothing but watching movies all day . he hadnt seen movies from earth that much either ,, besides a few fast n furious ones here and there . needless to say ,, he was somewhat concerned for humans need to trash cars . he cringed a little on the inside ,, watching those perfectly good cars blow up . it was like a horror movie but for cybertronians .

• during the movie marathon ,, whirl tried to sneak violent night and black christmas in ,, saying they were also christmas movies and that they should watch them . magnus ended up throwing them out ,, saying no one really felt like seeing dying people during this one time of peace .

• drift enjoyed the nightmare before christmas ,, the claymation alone was enough to captivate him . then the designs of the characters ,, the music and songs ,, even jack's childlike wonder for christmas matched his own (in a few ways) . during that movie you sat with him ,, sharing a few facts about the movie itself . how long it took to make and how hard it is to do claymation movies .

• during the polar express you stayed with rewind and chromedome ,, snuggling in between the two and sippin on your hot chocolate . rewind enjoyed watching the train on the ice whilst chromedome puffed about how he coulda easily done that himself and saved everyone . you only rolled your eyes ,, muttering out a sure as you fought back a smile .

• during a break in between the movies you noticed megatron ,, standing awkwardly in the corner with his own cube of fools energon in servo . you smiled at the bot ,, walking up to him and having a small conversation with him . you didnt honestly think he’d show up ,, but youre glad he did . he let you sit with him during one of the movies ,, bonding well with the giant bot .

• he was quite warm ,, heat coming from off his body as you huddled close to him . he tucked his servo around you ,, worried you may fall off . for a few moments during the movie you swore you saw him smile at some of the corniest parts ,, or chuckle softly at some of the dumbest jokes .

• you took turns ,, switching between bots during different movies . you would sit in their laps ,, explain little things you liked about the movie playing and share a few things of your own childhood during this time of the year .

• it was nice ,, to say the least . having time to the bots ,, doing things that reminded you of home . it wasnt the same ,, but it was the thought that counted . spending time with them peacefully was more than enough for you ,, and definitely more than you could ask for this christmas .

[toomanybrainrots]

hey homie Can I get a lil First aid x GN!Cybertronian reader? (P.S I hope ur doing ok homie)

I'm doing alright, thank you for asking! Here's some First Aid headcannons for you, my dear anon. If I ever misinterperet his character at all, please let me know cause I suck at writing tbh.

First Aid with a Cybertronian S/O

(This was the only image I could find of him that wasn’t too big. I’ll change it later whenever I get the chance)

First Aid an absolute sweetheart around you

He makes sure to do his duties as your conjunx and makes you’re properly fueled, and gives you all the affection you want

Unfortunately, he isn’t able to visit you much due to his work, which makes him feel a little sad and bad about it but he’s very willing to cuddle with you after work in your shared quarters, or maybe go to swerves as his little treat

You were relaxing on your berth when you heard the door slid open, you didn’t need to look up to know it was First Aid

As the door slid closed with a soft hiss, you outstretch your arms wide and First Aid gladly plops onto the berth into them, holding you close as he wraps his arms around you

He retracts his faceplate and visor as he layed against you, your frames intertwined and in each others embrace. Cuddling you was always the best, especially after work. And he could not ask for anything more.

You’re usually the one that visits whenever you get the chance

You usually just watch as he does his work, or help around by handing him whatever he needs. He’s very grateful for you, his personal assistant

Your presence was always reassuring and comforting to him, but also makes him just a bit nervous a she tries to do his best whenever you’re around. You’re his conjunx after all.

Whenever he’s the one that’s off work early, he always visits you.

Whenever he visits you, he tends to just talk about his day, chatting his helm away as you work. Of course, he helps around if he can, but he’s often chatting with you or just watching you work, admiring how determined you looked

All in all, he’s a very sweet mech and will very much so dote on you given the chance. And of course, you always reciprocate

[skelswritingcorner]

Assistance to Focus (A First Aid x Reader Fic)

With the encouragement of @lovenotcomputed, I wrote this little thingy. If y'all can't tell, I love First Aid a lot.

A/N: This is technically a UA (Universe Alteration), as the characters are written to be closer to G1 heights. Therefore, characters like Ultra Magnus are 20 feet tall instead of 40.

Warnings: Mentions of autistic shutdown, G/T

It was always a struggle to begin tasks, from those that need to be done to those that you wanted to do. That was something you always hated about yourself, even if you knew it was due to your neurodivergent nature. You're sure that the others on the Lost Light noticed this. Unfortunately, you're pretty confident neurodivergence isn't a thing for Cybertronians, so they might not understand.

The only exception was Rung, the psychiatrist of the ship. "Perhaps you need someone to just... push you along to get started." he suggested, "I remember Ultra Magnus told me about that shutdown you had when you couldn't get started on those files, yes? Maybe doing them with someone else at the same time would be beneficial.”

Right. That was certainly a situation that led to several members of the Lost Light panicking because your head was on the desk and you were sobbing and hyperventilating for an hour, tugging at your hair to distract yourself. Ratchet had to make everyone leave the room and have you brought to your habsuite afterwards, and informed Ultra Magnus that you’d be resting for a cycle or two. At least you didn’t hit yourself with a heavy object.

“I understand that, but I don’t know who I’d do that with,” you glanced at the window, “I’m the smallest person on this ship, and I don’t know anyone else other than the ones I interact with the most as the liaison.”

Rung tapped his digits on his chair, “How about First Aid? From what I’ve heard, you two get along quite well.” Oh. Would be a good idea except for the tension you felt around him sometimes, given how your mind goes haywire around him. He is, however, one of the few people that could calm you down from those shutdowns, so it might be your only option.

You sighed in defeat, “If he agrees to it, then yeah.”

Rung nodded thoughtfully, “I’ll ask him if he’ll be alright with that. Is there anything else you want to talk about?” You shook your head. “Well then, until next time.”

You left Rung’s office, walking in the large expanse of hallways to get to your destination. Fortunately, while almost everyone is thrice your height (quite literally, mind you), it’s easy to maneuver around them with a little verbal warning. Because of that, it didn’t take long before you arrived at the medbay.

The doors opened, and you peeked your head before walking inside. There weren’t many people there right now, Ratchet was talking to Drift about… something you didn’t know anything about. First Aid was at the desk, working on medical reports from what you could tell. He shouldn’t be too busy, right?

“Y/N?” Oh, that must be Ratchet. He probably wanted to check on you, given what happened a few days ago.

“Yeah?” you looked up at the red mech.

Ratchet knelt down to address you, “Are you doing alright? I’m sure you’re still stressed from what happened. Are you sure you shouldn’t be resting still?”

You shook your head, “I usually just need a day to recover from a shutdown. I’ll be fine.”

Ratchet squinted, clearly doubting your words. “I doubt that just a day would be sufficient, but alright. Do you need something?”

“Uhh, it’s based on something Rung suggested. He suggested that I have someone else with me to help me get started on the task.” you explained.

“I see,” Ratchet curled his servo, tapping his chin in thought, “Is there someone specific you wanted to assist you?”

You paused, contemplating if you should tell Ratchet. Did he figure out the thoughts you get about First Aid? Ratchet did comment that your face was red the first time you saw him without his mouthpiece at Swerve’s bar, and asked if you were alright. You doubt he realized that the redness was due to you getting flustered. Drift walked up to Ratchet, whispering, “I think Y/N wants First Aid to help her.”

You heard all of it, jumping a little bit. Drift smirked, and Ratchet chuckled, “Don’t worry about it, Y/N. I’ll ask him for you.” Ratchet walked to First Aid, exchanging a few words with him. Unfortunately, it wasn’t one you could hear from where you were.

First Aid walked up to you after grabbing some datapads, “Rung messaged me about it just before Ratchet told me, you want me to help you?” A nod was the only reply you gave. “I’ll bring you to a quiet place. I’ll bring some of the paperwork that I can do.” You nodded again, and First Aid helped set you on his shoulder.

The both of you walked to your habsuite, and you grabbed the datapad with the document you struggled to start reading last time. After grabbing a set of ear pods, you and First Aid went to his habsuite. Fortunately, his habsuite was close to your own, so it didn’t take long.

“Are you sure we should do that in your habsuite?” you asked, “Isn’t this meant to be a place for rest?”

“I-” First Aid stammered, “I didn’t know anywhere else that would be without distractions.”

That’s understandable. This ship is pretty hectic, after all. “Well then, let’s do this.'' The both of you walked to the desk in the habsuite, sitting down on the chair together.

First Aid had you situated in his lap, servo splayed slightly on your own as he prepared his set of datapads. Putting in your headphones on a low volume, you played instrumental music as you looked at the datapad you held in your hand. It’s just documents on Cybertonian anatomy, it should be fine. Not like you don’t know anything about robotics at all, everything’s going to be fine.

It took a bit to start, but after some time you began reading the document. It was a bit intimidating, but that’s what happens when you first learn stuff, it’s always a little scary in the beginning. It helped that First Aid was ghosting circles into your thigh, it was minimal enough that it didn’t hurt or distract.

After some time, you finished reading the document. It took some time, but you knew this was the shorter version. A more simple explanation of Cybertronian anatomy, with comparisons between the anatomy of a Cybertronian and the anatomy of a human.

There were no equivalents for some organs, but what made you curious was that reproductive organs weren’t mentioned. It makes sense, Cybertronians reproduce asexually. It wouldn’t make sense for them to have those parts, right?

“You’re done?” the voice from above asked. It sounded a little… clearer than usual? You looked up, seeing First Aid… without his mouthpiece?

“I was surprised, once you began you quickly got in some kind of zone.” First Aid chuckled, “It was fascinating.”

If it wasn’t obvious enough already, your face was heating up. Did he know how flustered you got that time at Swerve’s? Was he using that to get you worked up?

“I, uh, tend to hyperfocus.” you stammered, unconsciously beginning to bounce your leg.

First Aid let out a chuckle, “I’m just teasing you. At least you were able to read through the document without any signs of stress. I didn’t feel you bouncing your leg until now. The most you did was shake them a little.”

Wait, he noticed that?! Well, you were in his lap the whole time, so he likely noticed you stimming?

“Anyway,” his mouthpiece moved back into place, “you’re likely tired from this, right? I’ll bring you back to your habsuite.”

You nodded quickly, grabbing your things before letting First Aid pick you up. After he confirmed that you were ready, the both of you walked to your habsuite. After exchanging goodbyes, you walked into the habsuite.

First Aid walked away, stumbling into Rodimus. “Hello, Captain.”

“Spendin’ time with the tiny liaison?” Rodimus wiggled his optical ridges, implying a possibility of First Aid and the liaison doing something else.

“We’re literally in front of their room, they’re going to hear you.” First Aid mentioned. He knew that, even though the sound insulation for the organic habsuites are pretty good, Y/N’s hearing is pretty sensitive. They could be listening in.

“It’ll be fine,” Rodimus drawled out, “I made sure the best sound insulation is in those habsuites! When I found out that one of the liaisons has super sensitive audials that can’t be turned down, I made sure that theirs especially got the sound insulation.”

All of that made First Aid squint. “Yeah, right. I’m pretty confident Ultra Magnus was the one who had to do that.”

“Oi!”

“But am I wrong? I remember he’s the one who told us Medics about Y/N’s conditions.” First Aid tilted his helm.

Rodimus grumbled, “Ugh, nevermind! We can discuss what I wanted to tell you about at Swerve’s bar.”

First Aid shook his head, “No need. Liaison Y/N and I did not interface, Rodimus. That wouldn’t be professional. Besides, Y/N just joined last week. I doubt that would be enough time for them to feel comfortable doing that.”

“Right. Anyway, we can talk later at Swerve’s.” Rodimus left, leaving First Aid standing there. Guess he can return to the medbay now.

However, while he wouldn’t say it for now, First Aid is catching feelings for the human liaison. They haven’t been there for long, but Y/N has a fond spot in his spark. It’s simply too early to try flirting or being romantic. Sure, he did mess around a little bit to confirm if his face plate without the mask on made them flustered, and it did, but other than that it’s best to be slow.

[wifetomegatron]

I’m not sure if you’re taking requests or not so feel free to delete but if you are how about some firsts! First date with First Aid in the First Contact!AU?

thank you for requesting anon <3 i hope you enjoy this !

a night full of firsts : what a first date with first aid would be like (sfw!)

i) you weren't his first date ( he had dated a couple of times back in medical school, but that had been ages ago ), but you were his first date on earth. first aid had idled outside the door of the restaurant for about ten minutes, constantly re-checking the screen of his mobile phone — which, in his opinion, was ridiculous to carry around — to double and triple check your picture. he was fidgeting, servos twitchy as he entered the place. the funny bit was you had witnessed the whole thing, the wide, clear window giving you a full view of first aid desperately trying to soothe his nerves ( you tell him this months after and he nearly breaks apart from shame. )

ii) first contact had been established for nearly a decade now, and humans were surprisingly quick to assimilate. if anything, none of the patrons bat an eye at his presence — red and white metal, shining under the golden glow of the lights. there were only five other bots inside the place, including him. and when he was the only one obviously on a date, first aid felt singled out if not scrutinized. with a more integral involvement in the council of worlds, the people of this little green planet had opened themselves slowly to the idea of 'interspecies relationships.' it was only a matter of time before someone created a dating app specialized for that. ( the secondhand embarrassment in asking velocity to help him create his profile pales in comparison to the shame he felt when he saw so many of his friends there.) less than a week of being on there scrolling, the two of you had matched. and the sweet little messages had boiled down to this very moment: you sitting across him, cheeks dusted pink. he averted his optics, suddenly feeling shy for the first time in a long time.

iii) the first hour went smoothly, with a few bumps along the way such as the occasional slip-ups and misunderstanding — you had accidentally asked him if he thinks the carbonara is better than the aglio e olio while he had slipped and accidentally called your eyes 'fascinating' instead of 'beautiful'. those he could laugh off.

until you had wondered aloud at how interesting it was that humans and cybertronians were so similar. and off-handedly, out of instinct, the medic had responded with : more than you think.

you had a playful glint in your eyes when you responded, lifting the wine glass to your lips, ' is that a promise?'

at the innuendo, his already nervous knee had jerked upwards and bumped the underside of the table, knocking the glass of water all over the surface. he immediately stood up, reaching to undo the damage by plucking the glass, only to have one of the table cloths snag in the seam of his knee. in an instant, the plates and cutlery had toppled over, loudly crashing onto the floor. but he didn't even have the time to react, the candle — which in his opinion was an evil, dangerous, thing to have on a dinner table and nowhere romantic — had set several of the napkins on fire. a dozen frightened patrons and one, messy fire extinguisher later, first aid had yanked you out of your seat and away from the chaos. this was the first time, first aid wished — what was the human saying ? for the earth to swallow him up? judging from how your clothes were most likely irreversibly damaged by the wine and pasta, disappearing was the best option.

iv) he knows ratchet was trying not to laugh at the story, failing miserably the moment he excused himself out of the room to ( not so discreetly ) tell his conjunx about the incident. velocity gave him a pitying smile, even if she was hiding her amusement. he told her that he was never going to see you again — that he ruined a beautiful night with a beautiful person over a stupid accident. considering that he was flustered enough to disappear without a word. until you had showed up by the receptionist's desk, worried hands wrung together as you asked one of the nurses for him.

at the sight of him, your eyes lit up. this was the first time first aid found himself at a loss for words, spark racing as you explained to him how you were more worried about how he had deleted the app the morning after and left without a word. determined not to get ghosted by someone who clearly enjoyed the night, you had tracked him down to ask him for another date.

' this time,' you had cleared your throat, ' i can prepare us dinner back at mines and actually make sure there'll be no candles around. if you'd want, that is ?'

he was glad he had his mouth guard up because he could feel himself grinning, velocity in the back already calling swerve to break to him the news.

'yes,' first aid answered, ' i'd like that.'

[anxi-writes]

• ANGST •

Your spark blinked rapidly in your chassis like a single candle light facing the wind or a desperate S.O.S sign. To say you were in pain was an understatement. Your legs burned and ached, you couldn’t even move your pedes. It hurt. Oh Primus, It hurt so bad. Your right leg was bent in an unnatural angle while your left leg was practically melted. The DJD were anything but merciful.

Your single remaining optic gazed through your tears. Everything was clouded, everything was agony. Yet you could still recognise the certain medic that you loved. He rushed around the med bay, probably trying to fix up what little you had left. You hated seeing him panic.

Energon spills and leaks from your wounds. It’s only now that you notice the pool of blood coming from your spot on the medical slab. You feel dizzy just looking at it. Dizzy and tired. Oh so tired.

“Hey hey, you’re gonna be alright,” The voice of First Aid says, using his left servo to put pressure on the large injury on your chassis. You choke out some words in response, saying something along the lines of “I don’t want to die”. You’re unsure if he heard you, if he even understood you through all the blood pouring out of your intake. First Aid caresses the side of your face with his free servo, his soothing gestures easing the tension in your scabbed up face. A darkness creeps in the corner of your vision. And he’s talking again but you can barely keep your helm up. He’s distressed, that much is obvious.

“I love you, First Aid,” you muttered with the last remaining strength you held. Tears began to stream down First Aid’s face. It was often that you saw him cry. He’s cupping your face now but the darkness is too inviting. Maybe letting go isn’t too bad. Maybe-

First Aid tries his best to do what he does best, heal. But there’s too many injuries, too much blood. There’s a reason most bots don’t survive the decepticon justice division. He’s still trying so hard to fix you even when your body goes limp. It doesn’t take long for him to realise that you’re gone. That he’ll never hear that beautiful voice of yours again or your comforting hugs. If only they had rescued you sooner, if he came sooner. It’s all his fault. He failed as a doctor but most importantly, he failed as a lover.

[deliriousbug]

Can I request a MTMTE First Aid x Human female sick reader?

You shooed First Aid away but he didn’t stay gone for long. He’d been smothering you since you woke up with a fever and cold sweats. He refused to leave you for more than five minutes, worried as he was. He returned now with a can of soup (lord knows where he found it). He crouched next to your bed and held out the soup, a hopeful look to his face. 

“Eat, please,” he said. “You need to keep your fuel levels up to fight this infection.”

You eyed the can. “We don’t even have a canopener.”

First Aid hadn’t thought about that. He clenched his fist, frustrated that he couldn’t properly care for you. It seemed like everything he knew to do was wrong in some way, and he couldn’t stand this helplessness.

The can of soup exploded, splattering everywhere. 

First Aid cursed and stuttered through an embarrassed apology as he fumbled for rags in his subspace. You laughed so hard you started coughing, and he started panicking again. This was going to be a long flu season. 

[kazumist]

HANDLE WITH CARE .ᐟ

✩ — in which soshiro hoshina finds himself getting treated by his favorite nurse, you.

✩ — includes: soshiro hoshina x gn!reader. fluff. cw: mentions of blood and injuries, inaccurate use of medical terms ?? sorry i just used google uhm. wc: 990. established (secret !!!) relationship. reblogs and feedback are much appreciated !!

✩ — note: i became obsessed with these two that i might just write a part two of reader treating him after the tachikawa base raid arc actually.

soshiro hoshina does not play favorites.

when it comes to his subordinates, at least.

when it comes to the medical team assigned to the tachikawa base, however, that is when he plays favorites (though you would never see the vice captain of the third division actually admit that; he prefers calling it his “preferences”). whenever he finds himself in the base’s infirmary, he will always look for you. and when he’s lucky, which on most occasions he is, then he’ll have you treat his wounds. it’s just something that hoshina has grown accustomed to whenever he finds himself there. nothing more, nothing less (a lie).

you were a special case for the vice captain. there was just something about the way you handled his wounds compared to others. call it picky, but he just prefers the gentle treatment that you give his wounds. (how come hoshina constantly prefers to be treated by you when others would treat him the same? isn't that part of your job in the first place?)

(the answer is simple—it’s simply an act of soshiro hoshina asking for some quality time, even if he’s all bruised and bloody.)

“i’m almost convinced that you do this on purpose sometimes.”

soshiro simply grins at you. you weren’t entirely wrong—but it’s not like hoshina asks himself to get hurt when he goes out on missions in the first place. he could handle himself pretty well; he has the high position of being the vice captain of the third division, for christ’s sake. but perhaps it is inevitable that even the vice captain would come out of a mission unscathed.

“i like the concern from you.”

you give him a lighthearted eyeroll, to which he only grins even wider. "i'm sure you do," yet that grin slowly dissipated as he winced slightly at the feeling of the alcohol touching the wound near his eyebrow. “sorry, did that hurt too much?” you asked him, worried that it might’ve stung too much for his liking. this type of close proximity was normal for you and him. after all, it’s not like this is the first time your face was this close to his—though those are times when hoshina feels rather affectionate with you rather than in pain due to some wound he got.

“nothing i can’t handle, love.” he says, recovering quite fast from the alcohol sting. he was then met with a gentle tap on the lips—hoshina knows it was a warning from you. “watch your words, vice captain.” you say, applying a small gauze pad to his wound and securing it with paper tape.

“can’t really help it when you look so pretty up close, sweetheart.”

you ignored his remark but soshiro could see the smile that tugged on your lips at the petname. you then moved on to his next wound, which is on his left shoulder. his expression softens as he watches you inspect his wound, a small amount of guilt bubbling up inside of him. “this is gonna need a little stitch,” you sighed, grabbing another cotton ball, pouring the right amount of alcohol on it, and preparing to gently dab it on the wound. “and this might hurt a bit again.” you give him a heads up.

“like i said, it’s nothing that i can’t handle,” he reassured. whether it’s you he’s reassuring or himself to convince himself, neither of you really know. he hissed slightly when the cotton ball came into contact with his skin; it was barely even heard that he hissed in the first place. but you noticed it; you always do. you would notice everything about the man before you and he would do the same.

after cleaning his shoulder wound, you proceeded to prepare to stitch it up. there was no one else in the infirmary at the moment; it was now only you and hoshina there. he silently watched you as you quickly arranged the surgical suture. and even when you started the stitching, the deafening silence was still comfortable. 

soshiro gently raised his right arm since it was uninjured and used his hand to smoothly tuck your other strands of hair behind your ear. you looked at him, raising an eyebrow at his gesture. he smiles at you in return. “your hair might get in the way. we don’t want my stitches to have your hair stuck in them now, don't we?”

you quickly finish up the stitch and put gauze on top as well. “i’m sorry.” soshiro’s apology is as genuine as it always is whenever he gets treated in this same room. “i’m starting to feel quite better now, though. couldn’t do it without my favorite nurse.” he continues, as he grabs ahold of your unoccupied hand.

he hears you chuckle at his words as you interlock your fingers together. “avoid arduous training or activities for a good one week and you’ll be good as new.” you said, sighing as now you’re finally done with treating your boyfriend. “eh? no fair. i have to go help the rookies train the day after tomorrow.”

“i’m sure captain ashiro would let you off the hook in the meantime, soshiro.”

“oh, we’re on a first name basis now?” he asks, and this time it was his turn to raise an eyebrow. you bring your other hand up to his cheek, caressing it as your thumb grazes his cheek bone. he leans into your palm as if it were a reflex. “we’ve always been on a first name basis, dummy.” you say.

“maybe all of my pain could go away if you just gave me a little kiss, you know, as your vice captain.”

“now that’s just abuse of authority. do you ask other nurses for a kiss too?” you pouted.

“that’s why your my favorite nurse.” he replies, clearly emphasizing the word “favorite” as he steals a kiss from you.

yeah, vice captain soshiro hoshina definitely does not play favorites.

[hanibalistic]

faint idea dump. alternative universe where both wukong and the destined one exist at the same time.

since destined one doesn't talk nearly as much, modern!reader during their journey to do something decided to start teaching him sign language to communicate if he doesn't feel like talking, and wukong doesn't enjoy it too much because it gives reader a reason to touch the destined one a lot

[pinkanonwrites]

FIRST AID SIZE KINK YESSSSSS OGUGH OK LIKE- maybe you're tryna monkey bars your way up somewhere and he picks you up with one hand and pops you down where you were trying to go and is haunted by the comfortable weight of you in his hand for like a week. how easily one hand could wrap around you and how his fingers circled your middle enough that the tips of his forefinger and thumb could touch. hell, even pulling the 'hey lets compare hand sizes, like for science.' card on him and he locks himself in his habsuite for a good minute after. i want him on me so fuckgin bad

OKAY OKAY OKAY SO HERE'S MY THOUGHTS

I think, when you first meet, First Aid is very, very aware of how small you are by comparison. And at first he thinks it's because he's worried for your safety. You're surrounded by aliens twice, three times, five times your size, there's no ending to the number of things that could go wrong!

So, for a while at least, he's incredibly aware and respectful of you. Unlike some of the other bots aboard the Lost Light he would never grab you and pick you up, especially without permission! You're a sentient being with thoughts and needs, and said boundaries deserve to be respected.

And then he catches you. Just once, when you stumble off the edge of a table after Whirl gets a bit too rowdy. And you're so delicate in his servo, so soft. He can wrap his entire servo around your middle. And you look up at him with those soft, glossy, achingly organic eyes.

"Thanks! Great catch!"

And oh. Oh, he's just ruined. He tries to ignore the feelings, the aching desire to hold, to touch. And on the surface it seems like he's doing relatively well! You don't seem to notice, at the very least. But when he's back in his habsuite, when he's supposed to be resting, there's this unavoidable stab of guilt as his servo slides down to grip his spike or cup his valve. The twist in his tank when he realizes he wants to hold you, to feel your soft little hands upon his array, to hear you shiver and gasp and whimper at the impossible stretch offered by his spike...

First Aid is not very good about letting himself have the things he wants. When not pertaining to his work in the medical field he's very used to letting other people's needs come before his own. So it's very unlikely that he's going to be making any sorts of moves on you, no matter how much he desires it. Still, he can't help but fantasize.

[ppnuggie]

May we have dating headcanons with First Aid and GN reader? I love him he's so blorbo and silly shaped 🥺🥺😭 little patootie, thank you :D!!

　　　　　　FIRST AID x gn reader

　　　　『　first aid ,, gender neutral reader 』

　　-> dating hcs

　　— fluff ,, sfw ,, crack

　　— tysm for requesting this 😭 i love first aid sm hes such a babe ,, heres some hcs :3 theyre kinda long 🫡

| • aid is new to dating someone that isnt cybertronian ,, so there may be a few bumps at first but you both learn to talk about it and what to do to improve

| • hes quite fascinated with the human body in general ,, and may ask some silly or crazy questions about it

| • if hes not too busy ,, he'll ask to study your body in general to see how it works as it is a little hard to learn how to treat organics when theres not any research on the ship in general

| • he could ask brainstorm but then it'd dissolve into something else and worse ,, and he may learn a few things he may not need to know or want to know

| • when first aid isnt asking about your bodily functions ,, hes quite a sweetheart

| • he's quite careful when he's handling you ,, making sure you're comfortable up on his shoulder ,, keeping his servo on your back so you dont fall off or hurt yourself

| • hes also quite generous ,, helping you with some of your work as the liason of earth ,, or offering to ease some of your stress or tension

| • though since he is a doctor ,, he may or may not scold you when you eat a few junk items

| • or he'll be on your case if you havent drank enough water for the day ,, he worries about you :(

| • though due to his work he isnt always free ,, most the time you visit him in the medlab and help him with whatever he lets you

| • usually its sorting some items that arent too heavy for you to move ,, or just sitting on the counter and doing nothing

| • he does feel bad about it :( he does want to spend time with you which is why after hes done he takes you straight to swerves for a little catching up and bonding time

| • at night he joins you to sleep even if he doesnt need it ,, that doesnt stop him as he still snuggles into your bed and wraps his arms around you

| • if you wake up a lot in the night he'll give you some medicine to help with it and coo you back to sleep

| • hes just a nice guy to date in general <3

[toomanybrainrots]

hey my guy I hope it’s ok to request a First aid x injured GN!cybertronian reader? (Oneshot)

(P.S I rlly like ur writing my guy 🔥)

Thank you, I try my best. Here is your requested one shot, anon!

Warning(s(?)): mention of injuries, mention of blood(energon), this was not proof read or beta read whatsoever, nor was this edited or looked over again

Reckless

(I couldn’t find a better one)

“Be careful next time!” First Aid gently chided you as he knelt down, moving to the injury on your pedes “This is your 5th visit this orn!” He said as he started to weld your leg injury shut, making you wince in stinging pain.

“Yeah, I will, don’t worry.” You waved your servo in the air dismissively, trying to reassure him that you’ll be fine. It wasn’t a big deal, just some injuries. Instead of taking your word, he gave you look - a look that you felt even behind his visor. “Hey, don’t look at me like that!” You said

“That’s what you said last cycle, and the cycle before that, and the cycle before that, and the cycle before that–“ “Yeah, I get it, I get it!” You let out a huff, crossing your arms. First Aid let out a sigh, rising to his pedes, meeting your optics.

“Sweetspark, you can’t keep getting injured like this. At this point, I might get a spark attack.” He said, his voice gentle. Your wellbeing was very important to him, so seeing you in his medbay so often…

“I’ll be fine. It’s gonna take a lot more than that to get rid of me!” You puffed out your chassis playfully, an arrogantly confident grin on your face. He couldn’t help but chuckle and shake his helm. Oh, what was he going to do with a reckless bot like you…

[skelswritingcorner]

A Vessel, A Stranger, An Experiment

A/N: This took half a week to write, and is significantly longer. Also, the reader character's canon name is Ailith, but I use Y/N since this is the reader character. She behaves like a stray cat. I mostly consulted tvtropes because the wikis aren't exactly helpful with getting a nail on the bots' personalities. Also, the translator is an idea I took from @tripleglitchwriting's Ignition fics,

This is a partial rewrite of An Unfamiliar Place.

Part 2 can be read here!

Word Count: 3K

Reader character is written with gender-neutral pronouns. POV changes and timeskips are designated with three stars.

Warnings: SFW, mentions of blood and injuries, communication problems, G/T (giant/tiny), mentions of unethical experiments

You knew about your injuries before going on the little ship you called home. It’ll be fine, you remember assuring your most recent client after you got your payment, I know how to mend myself.

Clearly, based on the spike that impaled your torso, you were indeed not. Your client didn’t need to know, you had the money to pay someone to fix you up if you can’t do it yourself. Perks of being a bodyguard for hire; the money makes up for any injuries sustained. At least the cloak hid that from the client; you knew they’d prevent you from leaving the planet if they saw.

You removed your mask and cloak, peeling your gloves off your hands as well as removing your grappling hook, and limped toward the mirror. Shit, you thought to yourself, the injuries are more severe than what you assumed. The spike in your torso was the one you knew about, but there were also bullet holes in your left calf. You checked your sleeves, mostly just small scratches and scrapes. Nothing you couldn’t fix.

Grabbing the medical kit, you went to work. Cleaning the wounds of blood and possible grime, then applying the bandages and wraps. The spike would have to be removed by someone more professional, you need to navigate to the nearest space clinic. Plopping onto the chair, you set the ship to go to the nearest clinic. However, as a precaution, you turned on the emergency signal in case a larger ship with someone more skilled in medicine could help. Hopefully the trip will be quick, and smooth-sailing.

Oh, how much of a fool you were. Oh-so foolish of you. You thought this was going to be anything but a disaster? You fool, you absolute buffoon.

There was a massive ship, you knew it was for something gigantic. How and why did you end up in this situation?! You weren’t sure what to do, so you kept the ship where it was. The ship you were facing was ten miles wide at least, and you might be its target.

Something grabbed the ship. It pulled you closer and closer to the gigantic vessel, until you knew you were inside it. Launching yourself off the chair as fast as you could, you hurriedly fastened your magnetic grappling hook on your right arm and grabbed the smallest weapons you had. No time to grab anything else, you needed to run as soon as you could. You held the handle of one of your smaller blades between your teeth.

Clearly, what was holding you was massive, footsteps jostling both you and your vessel, but eventually the ship you were in was put down somewhere. Once everything went silent, you cautiously opened the front hatch.

The vessel you were in was truly massive. Whatever crew is inside this thing must be members of species ten times larger than you at least. No time to dawdle, though. You needed a place to hide, and with haste.

Using your grappling hook, you descended down to the floor. It gave out midway, however, and you unceremoniously fell. Waves of intense pain overwhelmed you, fortunately the knife in your mouth prevented you from shouting out in pain. You’d check what happened later, though. You needed to find a hiding spot some distance away from your ship.

Holding onto your bloodied side, you scurried to a wall and started searching. Fortunately for you, there were some boxes that were open on its side after a few minutes of sprinting. You used your grappling hook to get to them, and entered one of the boxes. Now all you needed to do was wait. See if the crew is friendly, or if they’re going to kill you. Or if you end up dying from blood loss, which is the most likely option.

✩✩✩

It was Ultra Magnus out of anyone who noticed the object at first, and the blood trails coming outside of it. It’s an organic, and an injured one at that, he thought. Using his comm link, he informed all upon the Lost Light of the injured “intruder.” As they were minibots, Tailgate and Rewind were delegated the responsibility of investigating the interior of said object; see what it was for and if anything about what was inside could be discovered. Fortress Maximus chose himself not to look for the organic, for his size made it difficult for him to detect the source of the blood trails. That, and he didn’t want to squash them, so he checked all the cameras in the ship. Ratchet and First Aid were to prepare a berth, as the blood implied potentially life-threatening injuries. Brainstorm and Perceptor were to prepare some restraints and trapping items, in case said organic was being difficult. Now, to figure out who to find the organic…

Much to his dismay, however, Rodimus declared to find the organic himself. “I’m the captain of this ship,” he argued, “I’m going to search for them!”

Magnus pinched his enstril, a deep sigh coming from his intake. Rodimus has always been stubborn, refusing to heed anyone’s advice and acting without plans. Which, given the potential gravity of this current situation, could be disastrous. “I’d suggest not running off by yourself, Captain. At least bring one other Autobot, two pairs of optics are better than one.”

He could feel Rodimus roll his optics.

“I’ll go with the Captain.” Drift sighed. “I know you don’t trust me, but I’ll do the best that I can.”

Magnus grumbled, “Fine. You go with the Captain. I’ll remain by the object the organic came out of. Based on the size, they shouldn’t be too far off. Follow the red trail, and once you get them, bring them to the medbay.”

���✩✩

POV: Tailgate and Rewind

When Tailgate and Rewind entered the ship, it was relatively empty, yet had signs of life. The blood on the floor made Tailgate panic a bit, but he carried on with reassurance from Rewind.

There were a few items of note, mostly the mask and cloak on the floor. The mask was birdlike in appearance; midnight blue in color with signs of wear. Mostly scratches. The cloak was a similar shade of blue, and rather bulky. There was a cut on the back of it, with blood around where the cut was.

Tailgate turned on his communicator. “Oh, this is bad.”

“What is it, Tailgate?” Magnus questioned.

“There’s an item on the floor, there’s a deep cut on it and… and I think the organic’s injuries might be way more severe than we think!”

“Ten four. I’ll inform Ratchet and First Aid of this.”

Rewind noticed a container, opening it up to see several weapons. Most of said weapons were blades. “We’re not dealing with just any organic,” he muttered, “this is one that knows how to fight. They could be armed as well.”

Rewind opened his comm link to Rodimus.

Tailgate investigated thoroughly, there could be a bomb on the ship. Every container he opened lacked bombs, however. Replacement parts, some stuff written in an unfamiliar language, and… diagrams?

Tailgate looked at the diagrams more closely. Based on the shape, the form was of a human. There were peculiar additions on the chassis, left bitarlueus, and right side of the midsection. Likely something Perceptor and Brainstorm could figure out.

“I found what looks like a recording device! It seems rather old, but I think it might work.” Rewind’s words broke Tailgate out of his trance, “We should activate our translator modules so we can figure out what it’s saying. Once everyone’s translators are online, I’ll play the recording.”

Once everyone confirmed that their translators were online, Rewind pressed the play button on the device. The words that came out were steel cold.

“If you’re listening to this, you’re on my ship. You’re a sneaky one, ain’t cha? I’ve been given many names; The Masked Merc, The Bodyguard Who Shot That One Guy’s Eye Out, and many other names. You’ll be getting my real identity from my cold, dead corpse. If you’re expectin’ me to cooperate with you if I’m alive, you better be polite about that. I’m willing to throw hands if you try to force anything out of me. I might be a mercenary, but I’m not one to throw hands just for the sake of it.”

The recorded message on the old device ended. The two bots looked at each other, and back at the device.

“Wait, there’s another button next to it.” Rewind pressed the button, and another recording played. The voice this time was much softer, and younger. Likely their first recording.

“Hello. I am Y/N. I’m not sure what I really am in this world, this is my first time experiencing many things. Heh, the consequences of living your first decade of life in a lab, I guess. I doubt I can find my ‘real family’ at this rate, if they even miss me at all. I’m a bodyguard for hire. Rarely need to use my weapons, guess some people find me too scary. Goodbye for now. If you see me, you see me. If you don’t, you don’t.”

Silence.

“So the organic’s a bodyguard. Y/N, huh? Must be a pacifist, from the sounds of it.” Tailgate pondered.

“Or is powerful enough that most don’t even try to challenge them since it means swift deactivation.” Perceptor rebutted through the comm link.

“WE FOUND ‘EM!”

✩✩✩

POV: Rodimus, Drift, and Reader

Once the two reached Ultra Magnus, Tailgate, and Rewind, Drift began checking the blood. “There’s a splatter on the floor here,” he mentioned, “must’ve had a nasty fall before they started finding somewhere to hide.”

Rodimus winced trying to imagine the pain. Why couldn’t the organic stay put until they got help? Weren’t they the one sending out the emergency signal?

“Let’s go find that organic!” Rodimus started walking while looking down at the blood trails, Drift swiftly following.

The two walked slowly, optics scanning for where the blood led towards and listening to their comm links. They heard Tailgate and Rewind’s notes about the organic’s possible injuries, the weapons, and the recordings.

Rodimus noticed a slightly open crate, where the blood trail ended. A squeak from inside was all he needed to justify putting a servos on the crate’s side, and opening it up.

“WE FOUND ‘EM!”

Well, you got caught. Took what you believe is half an hour, but better than dying. You weren’t going to hop onto them instantly though, they might try to kill you. More likely than not, they might not be super cautious. Especially the orange one, they seem like they’ll accidentally manhandle you and make your injuries significantly worse.

Wait, how can you understand them? Are they using a common tongue? You have some handle on certain languages from your years as a mercenary, but you weren’t sure how they knew any of the languages you knew. Nobody mentioned giant sentient robots when talking to you. Actually, they probably did it in whispers since most people are scared of you. Dammit.

The white one tilted their head, “You’re clutching your midsection with your servo. Are you hurt there?”

Well, shit.

You slowly removed your hand from where you were covering your injury. The spike got pushed when you fell, and is currently jutting out from your stomach. Fortunately, or unfortunately, it didn’t end up on the side of the subspace pocket the scientists installed on you, so you can hide that for a little while longer. Your hand, however, was covered in blood.

The orange one held out their hand, or what they called a servo. You did not trust him to handle you gently, and walked further into the crate. They grumbled, something about you being difficult.

“Let me, Rodimus.” The white one held his servo out, “I think they don’t trust you with holding them.”

You approached the servo with caution, touching a digit with your not-super-bloody hand. When they didn’t try to grab you, you slowly crawled onto their open palm. Another squeak of pain came from your lips when your injured leg touched the hand, though.

The servo slowly brought you close to their body, and the one you assume is Rodimus put a servo on the side of their helmet. “Drift’s holding the organic, I’ll go with him to the medbay and have Ratchet look at ‘em.”

“Percy and I will be there too,” another, more younger-sounding voice said, “I think I found something of note.”

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. What did they find? The medical kit that’s pretty low on supply right now, your sewing kit, or…

They found the files you took with you when you escaped, didn’t they? All those diagrams and logs about your conditions and states, and how your body responded to the implementations. You should’ve kept that in the subspaces, in hindsight.

“Don’t worry,” the one holding you, Drift, comforted, “Ratchet’s a bit grumpy, but he’s one of the best doctors here.”

He’s gonna struggle with the spike since it’s so tiny compared to them. Unless he has some sort of assistant closer to your size, you’re probably gonna be the one to remove it for the doctor.

They started walking, Drift making sure that you were safe, and that you wouldn’t be jostled too much.

You heard a door open, and heard another approach.

“This is the injured organic? The berth is ready, First Aid and I will take care of them.” you assume that was Ratchet.

Drift walked closer to a large metal slab, gently lowering you onto it. A pair of smaller servos held you, lowering you so that you laid supine.

“What’s the thing they’re holding in between their dentas?” the voice from who you infer as being First Aid asked. You removed the switchblade from your mouth without saying a word. With a flick of the wrist, the blade went out, but you then put it back in its original position.

A red servo took the knife away. You wouldn’t need it right now anyway, but they better give it back once they’re done fixing you.

“We should take care of what’s poking out of them first. It’s incredibly tiny though, I doubt my servos can even grab onto it without slipping.” Ratchet prodded around the injury, making you wince.

You sighed, grabbing onto the spike. A growly voice came from your mouth, “I can remove it for you.”

First Aid grabbed onto your bloody hand, “You’re injured! We should be the ones removing it!”

“And you’re literally twice my size,” you rebutted, “I’ve had worse done to me. This is nothing.” You weren’t bluffing either. Those researchers have done worse things to you with their twisted experiments.

Ratched sighed, ��They’re probably right. I know it hurts your spark to have a patient removing something that you can, but it seems that they have… experience with removing things from themselves. Clean the wound and stitch it up once they remove the object.”

First Aid looked into your eyes. Despite the plate on their face and visor preventing you from reading his expression, you knew from his tone of voice and body language that he was worried. He reminded you of yourself, in a way. That hyper-empathy that frequently decides to say hello when you least expect it.

“Ready?”

You nodded, slowly pulling the spike out. First Aid held your hand during this, not caring about the blood staining his servos. Comes with the job, you suppose. Once it was removed, a cloth was put over the gaping, bloody hole.

It took a decent amount of time before all injuries were cleaned and stitched up. They also made you digest some kind of liquid that Ratchet claimed to help speed up the healing process. Throughout, you were as obedient as a dog.

During the time the procedure was happening, Drift left. In his place, two other robots were there. First Aid was lifting your upper body so you could sit.

“The patient was rather pleasant, didn’t try fighting me or anything.” Ratchet reported to the red and blue one.

“Eh,” you shrugged, “You spend half your life as a lab rat, you get used to followin’ orders and getting weird things injected into your body.”

Everyone went silent and stared. Some looked confused, others horrified. First Aid stopped.

“Y’all’re lookin at me funny.”

The white and blue bot, who was likely the one who went into your ship, said those six words you remember hearing years ago, “What did they do to you?!”

Not this again.

“Based on those documents,” the red and blue one spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, “many things. I translated all of them. It appears that the patient,” he gestured to you, “was used in experiments to see if subspace entrances could be added to organic bodies for purposes of smuggling items. Clearly, they were successful.”

Welp, cat’s out the bag.

“Do these documents have any information other than that?” First Aid asked, “Where they’re from? Their name? If they have a family?”

You scoffed, “I was taken when I was a baby, as far as I’m concerned I’m an orphan. And I’m confident it’s too late to try and find my biological relatives, if they’re even alive.”

The white and blue bot covered where their mouth would be, “But do you know what planet you’re from? We can start there.”

“The documents say they’re from Earth, and therefore a human. From that recording Tailgate and Rewind found, their name is Y/N.” The taller bot said.

“Thank you, Perceptor. I’ll look over the documents once we clean and sanitize the berth.” Ratchet nodded.

You were exhausted from the chaos of today. Closing your eyes, you quickly fell asleep.

✩✩✩

Ratchet carried the sleeping human to the scanner, looking at the screen as it was scanning.

“There appears to be multiple points of trauma, both new and old. Along with those, signs of experimentation are shown especially on the upper chassis, left bitarlueus, and midsection. The peculiar crescent scar below their tank shall be noted for later questioning.” He noted on his datapad. “For now, it’s best that they rest.”

After the scans finished, he brought the human to a berth meant for the minibots, and sat on a chair nearby to monitor them.

[wifetomegatron]

here's to peace ( and those who get in the way of it ) ( first aid / reader )

summary : first aid has dinner with your family for the first time. first contact au pairing : first aid (idw) / gn! reader fandom : transformers idw continuity, more than meets the eye rating : m for mature due to mentions of blood and cursing, generally safe for work (sfw!) warnings : human ignorance. mentions of blood. tags : rewatched the awkward family dinner scene in fleabag and i didn't realise how much i loved it. deeply inspired by that scene, if you're it familiar with it, go have a good laugh and see it. i tried to be funny. idk if it works though.

There's a moment when you were sure that the sinking, churning feeling in your stomach would actually rise and push bile out of your mouth. That the sudden awkwardness in the air, pulled taut by the prolonged silence, will snap and cause your eyes to roll back — fainting would be a great distraction to get you and your boyfriend out of this agonizing position: a formal dinner with your family. 

You've been putting it off for weeks, declining their calls and sneakily texting your sibling back with the brightness of the screen down to zero while First Aid dozes off next to you. Eventually, he confronted you about it —  of course , he would find out. Attentive, doting, First Aid, who would scrub the apartment spotless every Sunday until no speck of dust survived, would find out. The grenade was already in your hands, the pin in your mouth like an apricot seed — and nearly sparked an argument about how you were ashamed of him. You had to calm him down and explain that it wasn't him you were ashamed of. It was the fact that your family told everyone that you were  dating a car . ( " Unfortunately, I can't turn into anything at the moment.") And to think that it's been nearly a decade since first contact, and they still couldn't find anything wrong with calling him an android. To make matters worse, they were referring to the Samsung  tablet —

" Ahem."

You were pulled out of your thoughts, and he gave you a reassuring squeeze, trying to level his vocalizer even if he was sitting as stiff as a rock next to your father. 

" Thank you, for having me here."

And like a kid who threw a rock at a sleeping hive of bees, the table buzzed to life, unapologetic to the fact that they've been staring in stunned, shameless, silence ever since you both arrived in the restaurant — which was, you glanced at your watch, fifteen minutes ago.

" Are you sick, love?" Your stepmother asked him. First Aid looked in your direction, confused until she gestured ( fingers a little too close ) to his mask.

" Oh no... this is just how I...look like."

" Well you're not at the hospital anymore," She chuckled through her teeth, smile stiff and voice so chirpy they grate your ears, " You can, you know, take it off."

" No, it's fine" You interrupted, " It's not a big deal." 

The rest of the people were looking at the menu, brow knitted and deep in thought as if they weren't just choosing whether to get the lamb shank or the vegetarian option for the starters. Cowards.

" It's a bit rude to have the shades and the mask when you're inside." She insisted.

" It's ruder to impose stupid, ignorant customs onto others."

You had to grit your teeth to get the words out. There was a brief pause, and you had to trace the seams on First Aid's arm to calm yourself, focusing on how the light bounced off his armor. And as if slinking back into her cave, retracting her claws, she swallowed the sour look on her face as it flickered back to a faux grin — nose scrunched and teeth bared.

 " Oh silly me. I do apologize."

First Aid let out a shy chuckle, " It's fine I understand —"

" I didn't mean to assume you had a mouth or eyes for that matter. Biology under all that...must be different."

Your stomach dropped. You could have sworn something lagged inside First Aid.   

" It's so lovely to have you here, darling! " Your sibling pans in your direction and smiles, trying to salvage the shattered pieces of the atmosphere, considering that your stepmom had  brutally  whacked a sledgehammer through it. The night is young. You were hopeful. You can count on them to say something reasonable —

" Considering your dating history, I just want to say that it's so refreshing to see you dating someone who's...not human! Diversity in relationships, after all, is the spice of life. Love wins."

Nevermind.

Your father cleared his throat — choked on his wine was more like it. Your sibling's partner talked over them before you could interfere: " Hear, hear! Humans are more compatible with your kind anyway. We're too emotional and fickle-minded. Dating metal must be a real upgrade from your previous relationships. They don't come with the messy, human baggage."

" That's a stereotype," You snapped, lowering your voice once a few heads turned to look, " So you're saying he's incapable of expressing his emotions? Because he's not human?" 

" Now you're just putting words into my mouth. I never said —"

" Do you need anything ?" The needy waitress interrupted, hovering around your table every ten minutes. You wiped your face with both hands. A cluster of arms flew to order drinks. The cutlery was noisy against the table. A headache formed in the back of your skull, and all you could do was anchor yourself to First Aid's palm as they massaged the small of your back. It was too much. The waitress called you twice and you lifted your head to order vodka, and then she gives you a pretty smile and accidentally asks First Aid wine or champagne.

Fuck. It was too late.

When he said no, your sibling-in-law and his disgusting, lazy excuse of a mouth were quick to joke, " What, you're not gonna offer the guy some oil?"

Immediately, at the same time, your father and First Aid placed a hand on your shoulder. Fingers and servos brushed against one another to calm you down, but it turned awkward, and your father pulled back a little too quickly, looking at the ceiling while First Aid crumbled like a wounded puppy. You want to reassure him that your old man's just socially constipated, but you feel the air rush past your lungs. The room felt hot. If there was an invisible camera, tucked away into the corner of the room, you would've stared at it for the crew to stop rolling. It's a shame that life isn't as simple. Or cheesy. And there wasn't a laughing track to wash away the discomfort suffocating everyone like waves bubbling into foam against the shore.

And that was how you ended up in the washroom scrubbing the bloodstain off your clothes. Water splashed all over the sink and onto the floors as you wiped the red pouring down your mouth, your chin, and even your neck. There was talking outside, and you held back tears, remembering the nervous phone call First Aid had with Ratchet in the evening before you had left the house. He told everyone. Your sweet, sweet boy had asked his CMO a week before about getting off early on Friday to meet your family. He told Velocity. He told Ambulon. Hell, Rodimus knew. And whether out of formality for being his previous captain or out of a severe case of 'never knowing when to mind his business', he had phoned your place and wished him luck. 

There was a knock.

" Can I come in? "

You slowly turn to your lover, nodding and finally bursting into tears. He hugged you tight, and you clenched your eyes shut, too ashamed to look at him. He was so gentle it was almost painful. Blood stained his shoulders. You know he's itching to wipe it off. Yet he stood still, steadying your shoulders with both hands. If he understood you less, you would've apologisedBut it was a wordless exchange between the two of you. Always. Only when you've stopped withering did First Aid speak.

" That went well."

You scoffed, " They're idiots."

" But you love them. And you should continue to have dinner with them. Meet them. Talk to them."

You frowned. You don't even know what's going on out there. But from the marks on First Aid's servo, he must have patched up the bleeding, bruised (hopefully not broken ) nose you had given your sibling-in-law. And knowing him, probably also helped ease your father back on his feet after you had accidentally knocked him down amid your little scuffle.

" I'll even go with."

You shook your head incredulously, " Why would you ever want to repeat this?"

" Because they apologized." His tone was soft, quiet almost as he stroked your hair, " And I'm sure, this won't happen again."

" Be realistic."

" At least it won't at least end like this. I know it."

Sometimes loving First Aid was like looking directly into the sun. You can't help but look away, eyes sore and heart bloated with hope. He pulled his mask down and kissed the discomfort away, and for a brief moment, you almost forgot that you still had people outside.

" If it makes you feel better, your stepmom apologized first."

" Really?" You pulled away from him to search his expression, mildly impressed, " And she didn't follow it up with anything?"

" Well, she did say life in the berth — erm, bed room, must be so interesting when you've got so many cables to choose from. She said it must've been a letdown for me to find out you've only got one port."

" Oh, fuck me."