#first aid x reader

[love-and-war-on-cybertron]

Hi! Can I request a First Aid x sick (like the flu) human reader please? Thank you :D

I wish I had First Aid when I was sick. Have some light fluff~

Coughing, sneezing, groaning. None of it bothered the medic. First Aid had seen many things, fascinating and disgusting from his own kind. Many Cybertronians were disgusted by human bodily functions. Not him. He took every blow of your nose with grace, ensuring you had plenty of tissues near by. And a puke bucket. After that last little incident, he wanted to be sure.

"How is my patient today?" First Aid brings in your breakfast. Plain foods, like Ratchet recommended. The older Mech had been to earth and thus had some information.

You take one look at the food and turn over with a groan. First Aid vents.

"Come on, I need you to eat. You couldn't keep it down last night and need to stay fueled to get better." He sets the tray beside your human sized berth and leans close, nudging you. "Come on. I'll adjust the bed." The shifts it carefully to put you in a sitting position. He wouldn't lie to himself, you looked awful. Tired and exhausted. A little pale. He would have the drones help you with your hair later.

"Y/n," A digit presses to your forehead, taking your temp. Still pretty high, but better than yesterday, "Please eat, you can't take your medicine on an empty stomach.

"I'm cold." you mumble, shifting as he put an extra pillow behind you.

"I can adjust the heat of the berth for you. We don't have many blankets on board." He made a mental note to request a few things next time the ship stops planet-side.

"Thanks." You start eating, tiny little bites. First Aid stays near by, writing into his data pad. Leaned against the main berth yours is placed on. Like a Doll on a bed. "I'm bored."

The red and white Bot glances down, "Yeah, healing can be pretty boring." You give him the most pathetic expression he had ever seen. Poor thing, "Tell you what-" Metal digit scoots the bowl you pushed away a bit closer to you, "-finish up, take your meds, and I'll set up a data pad with some holo-vids. Deal?"

You groan and sigh, giving him another look. He taps the top of your head, "And drink your water too. You REALLY need that." Ratchet had made it very clear how much humans needed water, especially when sick.

A sigh, and you pick up your utensils. First Aid's mask shifts as he smiles, sending a request to rewind for something to entertain you.

"I'll be back to check on you. The drone will bring your meds when you're done." He pats your head and heads off to disinfect before checking his other patients. He had to seal with a broken digit, a missing arm, and Whirl barreling in with a pipe through his socket. How the frag he got to the med bay without a guide, he couldn't say, but First Aid would bet they could follow a trail of chaos to the origin.

Half a cycle passes before the Medic can check on you. It's calm, so he figures he can sit and talk with you for the rest of his shift. Ease some of the boredom. He grabs your chart, looking it over while he heads your way. Drones had checked your vitals through the day and he compared them to Ratchet's list of acceptable numbers.

"Well Y/n, it looks like-" He stops at the sight of you. On your tiny berth, was a pile of blankets. He almost panics before realizing the rhythmic, barely perceptible movement. First Aid steps closer, carefully, nudging and moving the blankets until he can see your face. Sleeping peacefully. His spark pulses at the sight. You still looked drained and sick, but peaceful. A murmur and you grab blinding for the blanket to recover yourself. Instead your hand lands on his digit and stays put.

Ambulon comes in to relieve his fellow Medic a mega cycle later, but First Aid remains where he is a little while longer, with you holding onto him.

[hoiststowline]

would you be willing to write something cute with first aid? thanks!

first aid x reader

[a/n: yeah! thank you!]

Upon several glances, some way too ambitious and not inconspicuous enough, it’s realized that First Aid moves with resolve. Almost as if he put in every ounce he had with no guaranteed successful output- even against menial tasks. Handfuls of words come to mind, mostly determined and committed to seeing things through and then some, but it was never in a distorted light. Ones some describe as admirable traits, and others argue are taken to a fault, it seems to never bother the medical officer.

He’s doing an inventory of all things, moving languidly around the room and paying you no mind. Not exactly ignoring, as you had nothing substantial to bring up in conversation, yet seeking his company. First Aid could never be that harsh, yet the amount of sanitized jumper cables momentarily ranks a little higher than wondering what you were up to.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to be disappointed regarding it, you’re the one who took it upon yourself to sit on the counter whilst he was busy. It’s the same song and dance; he always comes to you once he’s finished his responsibilities, and it's a respectable notion.

In this instance, you’re not preoccupied by something else, a book or a slew of missed messages or emails. You take it upon yourself to survey him, observing the way his left hip extends just a bit out to the left as he counts salient things within the cabinet, well beyond your line of sight.

“…really red, are you alright?”

Something within you dies at that, blinking thrice before recognizing he’s no longer across from you in the room. It’s even more jarring to find that he’s long since moved, standing just to your right in front of the counter, waving a hand slowly in front of your face.

He asked you a question, and you’d been too occupied to even comprehend he was inquiring one.

Hesitantly, you shake your head, appallingly feigning nonchalance. “I’m sorry, run that by me one more time?” Spoken poorly, as do most who’ve been caught in a miserable situation.

First Aid pauses, his hand dropping unceremoniously back to its rightful spot, at his side. “Hm. I said your face looks really red. Are you okay?”

Immediately, unsteady hands come to your cheeks, feeling the twinges of warmth that have settled just beneath the skin there. It’s like a double whammy-you’d been caught staring and the most unfavorable color had strongly adhered to your face.

“I’m fine,” You insist, palms sliding the remaining length of your face to drop rather dramatically into your lap. “S’just hot in here.”

"Is it?" He casts a glance over his shoulder, eyeing the thermostat, finding that it is of normal temperature within the office. "No, it's not. I'd say it's cold, if anything,"

Peering around him, your stomach twists to find it really was only about sixty degrees, yet every exposed square inch of skin burned hot. "Huh. Weird,"

"Are you unwell?" He tries again, taking a step closer, shortly followed by another. Several red flags were arising within his processor, concerns brewing at the situation, and your responses did not make well enough sense.

"What? No." You insist, fingers dropping from your face to settle behind you on the counter, leaning your weight backward.

"Humor me," A digit comes to your forehead, then effortlessly slides down to the apple of your cheek as if checking your temperature. As if you would squirm or move away, the unoccupied hand cups your jaw, thumb pressing gently against your chin.

You have nothing to say, a stuttering mess beneath his shadow. He's so close, yet disquiet was the root of his gesture, inching so near that you have to draw your knees up to your chest to allow him to move flush to the counter.

"You are really warm," First Aid concludes, touch lingering a moment too long before dropping altogether, though he never takes a step backward. "Are you sure you feel up to par?"

"Positive," You squeak, fingers squeezing your kneecaps so tightly your joints are screaming for mercy. "Totally fine."

He eyes you curiously as if he doesn't quite believe you but relents, taking one step rearward that alleviates some of your lovesick nausea. "Let me know if it gets worse, okay?"

"Huh?" Not doing yourself any favors, your eyes meet his in a stern stare-down.

"Your temperature?" Proposed sincerely, though you weren't lessening his fretting. "Let me know."

"Right," You nod, shrugging off such a warped idea, fearful you were just digging yourself deeper into the same rut. "Yeah. I will."

[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]

A Body So Stubborn (Mercenary! Reader fic Pt. 3)

Barely winning against making the TFP bots learn about the horrors of endometriosis, it's the 3rd part to my First Contact AU fic (though it barely feels like one anymore). I ended up splitting this into two parts because this is like 5 pages in the Google Doc.

Warnings/Tags: Injuries, blood, hospitals, mentions of unethical experiments, Megatron experiencing remorse for something he had no actual involvement in, mentions of dead parental figures, Prowl shows up I guess

Word Count: 2050

The third part is finally here! I was going to draw something for it, but I'm currently working on my 2.0 model (Vtubing stuff) so I pushed that off to the side.

“So,” the Cybertronian on the screen tilted his head, “you found a human in a solar system that, as far as our knowledge, has no humans on it?”

“Until now,” Ultra Magnus replied, “according to the files, she was brought to this place at eighteen months old, therefore her connection to her species is nonexistent. She appears to be the only human who’s lived here for any large period of time.”

“There are, however, a group of humans currently on the local planet right now. According to Skids, they’re here to help establish an interspecies alliance. Along with that,” Ultra Magnus showed his datapad; two similar human women on the screen were shown in separate images, “one of the humans of the group appears to have a strong physical resemblance to the one we found. Not only that, she claims that her sister was abducted at eighteen months old twenty years ago.”

“Interesting,” his blue optics flickered, “it’s too similar a connection to be a coincidence. Is Ailith on the Lost Light? I’d like to see her condition for myself.”

“First Aid brought her to the clinic her ship’s coordinates were originally at, Prowl. Once she’s back, I’ll contact you again.”

“Very well. Goodbye for now.” The video feed of the officer ended, and Ultra Magnus sighed. Did he expect to have a human on board the Lost Light? Not at all. However, this is an injured human, and as he was the one who realized that there was an injured organic on board, he felt the slightest feeling of responsibility over her despite never actually seeing her in person.

Ultra Magnus walked out of the communication room, seeing the Co-Captains talking amongst themselves. Once they noticed the officer, they turned to him.

“What did Prowl say?” Megatron asked.

“He’s not sure about how and why a human would be here prior to any intergalactic relations being established. He also wanted to see her for himself, but she’s at the clinic right now. That, and I don’t know how she’d feel around him of all ‘Bots.”

Rodimus laughed. “I’m sure she’ll be fine, as long as we tell her first. It’s not like Ailith can fight in her current state.”

“I doubt that, Captain.” Magnus rebutted, “She’s adapted quickly to her current situation. Too quickly, if you ask me. Along with that, the planet she lives on has weapons designed to defeat Cybertronians. I’m confident that she has at least one weapon in her arsenal that she can use to defeat us if she truly wants to.”

“I know about those weapons.” Megatron said, Rodimus slowly turning with a horrified look. “I remember sending a team to this planet some thirty years prior because of potential energon deposits. The people used the remains of one of the ‘Cons I sent to reverse engineer weapons and other equipment that gave them an advantage. In fact, this might be the cause of Ailith’s subspaces as well. They could’ve tried creating subspaces, and tried to implement them on organic creatures. Including those from Earth.”

“Are you implying that it might be your fault for what happened to Ailith?” Rodimus asked.

“Who else could be to blame?”

“Let’s not dwell on that for too long, Captains.” Ultra Magnus looked at the datapad, “You didn’t know about the experiments until now, correct? Then it’s likely she doesn’t know either. First Aid said that Ailith’s been cleared to return to the Lost Light for recovery, so when she comes back you can ask her.”

“Do we have instructions on what to do?” Megatron asked.

“According to First Aid, it’s best to keep her from doing anything too strenuous. This includes training and combat. Along with that, she can only walk short distances. Her stitches are to remain for fourteen cycles total. Two cycles have passed, so that makes it twelve. As long as she doesn’t strain herself too much, she’ll be alright.” Magnus informed them.

“But who should she be with while she’s recovering? She’s smaller than Tailgate, literally half his height!” Rodimus asked.

“First Aid’s been taking care of her all this time, correct? Why not make a temporary space in his habsuite for her so he can make sure she’s recovering without complications?” Megatron suggested.

“That makes sense. As he’s one of the medics, he can treat her quickly if she gets injured.” Ultra Magnus agreed. “According to Drift and Ratchet, he’s been non-stop worrying over Ailith. It should be reassuring to him if she’s nearby.”

“Hmm…” Rodimus frowned, “Fine. Tell First Aid, and ask Skids and Velocity to get some stuff for her before we get back, I doubt we have anything right now to make sure she can have a smooth recovery.”

“I already asked them, Rodimus. They should be gathering some items right now with the help of someone that might be Ailith’s twin sister.”

“Great! I’m going to talk to Ratchet now. We’ll talk again later.” Rodimus turned on his heel and left the other two mechs standing there.

✩✩✩

The cycle in the hospital came and went. And now, you need to return to the Lost Light for the rest of your recovery. You would’ve protested if it wasn’t Aunt Daule who said that. Instead, you just sighed.

“So, I'm going to spend twenty or more days with them as I recover?” you asked.

Aunt Daule nodded. You understood that the clinic was pretty busy, so if they could they would have anyone who can recover outside the clinic so they can have space for those whose conditions are more severe, they would.

“Welp,” you slapped your knees, “I guess I’ll be stuck with that lot for a while. I’m fine with that though, I need to learn more about them in case I need to defeat a Cybertronian.”

Daule chuckled. “You talk just like your guardian. I remember hearing her many exploits back when they tried to take over our planet and failed, mostly when she charged in without hesitation. She’d use her magnetic grappling hook and a blade, get close to an exposed cable and slice it open. I’m glad to see you’ve inherited her fighting spirit.”

Both faces went solemn. Such goes the usual conversations whenever anyone brings up your first guardian. “It’s been almost five years, hasn’t it? Thirty-five more days until the anniversary.”

“Do you plan on going to her memorial?” you asked.

“Of course. I am, after all, Salva’s sister. It wouldn’t make sense for me to not visit the grave of a family member once in a while.” Aunt Daule answered.

“But that’s in more than a month. For now,” Aunt Daule patted your head, “make sure to focus on recovering. No straining yourself, alright?”

You nodded, and with your aunt’s arms as support you walked to the waiting room. You made sure to hold onto the box Makayla gifted you.

First Aid was already there, along with Tailgate. You walked to them, albeit with a slight limp.

“What are you holding?” Tailgate asked.

“It’s something from her sister.” First Aid answered for you.

“Did you meet her?” he asked again.

“She only came to drop off an injured friend the cycle before First Aid brought Ailith here.” Aunt Daule replied, “We did genetic testing, and they’re almost completely identical. After the testing she gave me the box Ailith is holding right now.”

Tailgate seemed fascinated. Do cybertronians have siblings, or is that an unfamiliar concept to them?

“Regardless of that, here,” Daule gave First Aid a document, “these are the instructions that should help with assisting Ailith in her recovery. She has a copy too, stored in her subspace.”

You nodded at what Aunt Daule said.

“We’ll return in twelve cycles, Dr. Daule!” First Aid said, picking you up. At this point, you’re used to being held by him. Aunt Daule waved, and the three of you departed.

Entering the pod, First Aid set you in a place that was relatively stable for you to sit down. While he piloted the pod back, Tailgate looked over at you.

“What’s in that box? You’ve been holding onto it this whole time.” he asked.

“Stuff from my twin that she asked Aunt Daule to give me. There’s a few pictures, including one of my niece who I just found out exists.” you replied, “Other than that, there’s some clothes.”

Tailgate tilted his head. “A niece?”

“The daughter of a sibling. In my case, my niece is the daughter of my older sister, Chloe MacArthur. I’m not sure if Cybertronians know about the concept of siblings, though.”

“Ooooooh,” Tailgate nodded, “sometimes sparks split in two. That’s the closest we have to siblings. Those are almost identical though.”

So, they sometimes have twins. Identical twins, just like you and Makayla.

“When we get back, I’ll show you the pictures.” you promised.

The pod slowed to a stop, and the door opened. Ratchet and… a cyan Cybertronian? He had red eyes and accents. His helmet was black, with two horn-adjacent finials extending out from the sides.

“Fortress Maximus,” First Aid exclaimed, “I’m surprised that you’re here!” He picked you up as well, placing you on the Cybertronian equivalent of his right shoulder blade before walking up to the two larger mechs.

“You must be Ailith,” the cyan mech put a hand over his chest, “I’m Fortress Maximus. The others informed me of your condition. I’m surprised you even survived the injuries Ratchet informed me that you have.”

You shrugged, “Eh. I’ve been operated on without painkillers and fully conscious. A few slashes and bullets aren’t that bad.”

Oops, you overshared. Fortress Maximus AND Ratchet are looking at you in horror. First Aid tensed up.

“Out of all things you could’ve said… Wait, you were fully conscious? Wouldn’t that hurt?”

Fuck it. You did this to yourself, nothing to hide now. “No shit it hurt! I still have the memory of seeing my intestines on hooks while they put that thing inside me, and when they put the subspaces on my body. As they did for all the other experiments.”

“That’s horrible!” If Cybertronians could cry, Tailgate would be doing that right now. “I can’t believe that anyone would do that, especially to a child!”

“Anyway,” Ratchet spoke before anyone could say anything, “First Aid, the captains assigned her to your habsuite so her recovery can be monitored closely. Skids and Velocity acquired some items to make sure Ailith’s comfortable.”

First Aid nodded, “I’ll bring her to my habsuite, then.” And so, he walked past the two taller mechs.

He’s been holding you for a while now, should you say something? It’s probably better to say something.

“You know you don’t have to carry me everywhere, right?” you asked him.

First Aid’s vocalizer choked, “I- You’re just small, that’s all! Most of the ‘Bots might not realize you’re there since you’re so tiny! Also, you’re still recovering from your wounds. Dr. Daule said that you shouldn’t walk too much as the leg wound recovers, right?”

“Touche.” You felt his grip on your thigh tighten slightly, as if he’s doubling down on keeping you right where you were. It’s understandable though, organic species compared to hulking machines are so delicate, especially those with injuries or preexisting medical conditions.

The rest of the walk was done in silence, which was fine with you. Talking isn’t exactly your best skill, after all. After First Aid went to his habsuite, he placed you on the desk that didn’t have much on it, but that’s something that you didn’t really care about. There were a few soft blankets and a few pillows, likely things the two others Ratchet mentioned. What were their names again? Velocity and… Skids?

Why is that name familiar? You swear that you knew someone who was called Skids. Your caretaker mentioned a large mechanical being with that name who helped save you from that facility, transporting you both to Aunt Daule so you could get treated. You’re pretty sure you bled on him, is he mad about it?

Oh well, it can’t be helped. You’ll find out after you sleep. Cautiously crawling into the blanket pile, you wrapped one of them around you before laying down. “I’m going to bed, see you later.”

First Aid nodded, “Please rest well.”

[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…