#tf idw hound x reader

[drabbletron]

Hound NSFW HCs

|| I have some smutty HCs for my newest blorbo, Hound. He is legit the world's most perfect man and is so sweet. I want to chew on him. I blame someone in particular for this brainrot (affectionate). They know who they are. ||

🔞 MINORS DNI 🔞

- so delicate and careful because he knows his size would literally crush you - likes to use everything but his spike because he is terrified of hurting you. It’s not that he doesn’t trust you, but accidents do happen - “I just want to be careful ‘s all.” - because of this he is so terribly pent up and the moment the two of you do have regular penetrative sex he is almost overloading the moment he enters you. - the first time the two of you have sex he insists on you using his valve under the guise of it being more sensitive. It is, but not by much. He just doesn’t want his spike to hurt you. - the moment he gets a mass displacement generator installed, you are trying to take advantage of it. He thought about it himself, but he is still hesitant. - he does go through with penetrative sex at that point though because he's been thinking about it for so long and you’ve managed to convince him that it’ll be ok and you won’t break - the fact that it’s a tight fit gets him going and he never thought he’d be one with a size kink, but here we are (wait until he finds out about his other kinks specific to human culture). You’re just so delicate and he needs to be present in every moment with you or you’re both in trouble. - Definitely pays very close attention to everything about you because of this - he knows things about your body that you may not even know yourself, and is also guilty of a romantic streak. Combining those two things makes for a very attentive lover by default. - goes down on you on the reg as his preferred nondisplaced mode of sex. He can be up close and personal with you and he can watch you come apart so much better from this angle. That and mutual masturbation or him giving head while he pleasures himself. - he is also a fan of talking you through your orgasms and caressing you ever so softly when you come undone. “That’s it, ah’ve got you.” - will always put your pleasure before his own to help you relax. Everything he does is about you as much as he can make it

[hoiststowline]

heyo! do you have any headcanons as to how cybertronians would kiss a human? I know it's canon in the comics, but what about a first time kiss for someone not of their species?? Maybe with hound and ultra magnus??

a/n: hi! of course, anything with Hound and Ultra Magnus is an immediate yeah!!

ultra magnus

probably the most standoffish to it and voices that pretty early on in the relationship. mostly because he can't quite navigate it as effortlessly as some may be able to, afraid of doing it wrong or ungentle.

to compromise, he finds himself drawn to kissing the top of your head or your temple. he can do it easily, always in private, but he supposes he prefers it this way. no, intense locking lips is not on the table currently. because he's an old bot, it comes with the territory.

the drastic size difference is the most obvious concern if he were to impart honestly. he is so afraid of hurting his s/o legitimately that he's good with the softer touches and sometimes heavy-handed forbearance. as long as his partner is alright with it, so is he.

he's also one to kiss his s/o's hand or knuckles, just because it's a simple gesture but means everything. he demonstrates his respect and admiration with a singular action, making a straightforward junction with his s/o's skin in seconds, his warmth and touch abiding ever-so-faintly.

hound

while definitely highly affectionate, I think Hound's a little more reserved when it comes to kissing. he's the kinda guy who likes positioning his nose on his s/o's shoulder and kissing between shoulder blades. somewhat sloppy but meaningful, more so in lazy moments.

if there is a kiss to be shared, it's his s/o calling the shots first. wherever it lands, on the cheek, lips, forehead- he returns it in the same spot, touch featherlight and extremely soft. anything his s/o does makes him happy, so please, it doesn't matter where they're getting it reciprocated.

also a bit frightened and slightly unnerved by the size difference. may or may not need some coaxing at specific points in the relationship, and will yield eventually. things take time, and he's not one to rush headfirst into things, immensely careful.

it usually takes an "it's okay, Hound" or two to actually get him to believe what he's hearing, but he relents when he ascertains it's not a false affirmation.

[in1-nutshell]

Hmmm do know what we don’t have? ANGST! Picture this: Buddy is a pilot for a giant mecha. Each suit is user specific as they share a psychic connection with their chosen pilot as Buddy generates the power for them similar to the way a spark powers a Cybertronian. They can go months without eating, sleeping, or drinking while they pilot it. But Buddy had a bad encounter with the Decepticons while exploring space which separated them from their squad and left them fearful of revealing their organic nature to the Crew of the Arc. They know the Autobots are good people, but having the Decepticons respond to with fear and violence that left them and their partner so close to death? It’s better to just leave something’s unsaid… even if it kills them that they can’t be honest with their friends

Do we all love a little angst from time to time? The whole mind link thing reminded me of 'Avatar', which in itself is an interesting concept with a mech suit. Since you did not specify the continuity or characters, I randomly selected them. If this is not what you wanted, please let me know.

Hope you enjoy!

Hound, Ironhide, and Prowl’s reaction to Human Buddy in a giant mech suit (with mind linked to it like Avatar)

SFW, angst, mentions of PTSD, mentions of malnourishment and illness (but nothing explicit), happy ending, platonic, Human Reader

The Mech suit was safe. It was Buddy’s safe place. After all, they wouldn’t have survived the Decepticon attack if it wasn’t for the suit. They remembered how the brutal attack was left in the station.

They remembered the screams and yelling.

The sounds of blaring alarms and missiles exploding.

Those awful sounds…

Thank goodness they were found by Cosmos in the space station’s ruins. Buddy only had the mech suit and the airlock pod that had their organic form when he found them.

 As much as Buddy hated the weak form of their organic body was, they still needed it to have this body operational. So, Buddy kept up with appearances on the Arc and guarded the tiny pod with their life. Many bots tried to pry the pod open, but that usually ended up with Buddy’s pede in their chassis.

 A couple of days passed and the warning signs of their organic body failing began appearing. Buddy knew it was important to give the metal body a break but the memories of the attack… it was too much…

They did, however, miscalculate the length of the warnings because one minute they were walking down the halls with one of their bot friends and the next they were staring at the covering of the pod.

Uh oh…

Hound

Hound was so concerned when his friend suddenly fainted. All their biolights off and optics gone offline.

“Buddy? Buddy! Can you hear me!? Don’t worry, I’ll take you to the medbay! If you can hear me keep hanging in there!”--Hound

He scoops them up and is racing to Ratchet for help.

It isn’t until he passes by Buddy’s room, he hears something inside, something coming from the pod. Taking a risk, he went inside the room with the limp body in his servos and looked at the pod.

The pods doors suddenly opened revealing a rather malnourished and exhausted looking human.

“…”--Buddy

“…”--Hound

“… I can explain—”--Buddy

“Why do you sound like Buddy!”--Hound

“Oh this is going to take a bit to explain…”--Buddy

It took some explaining from the human to finally figure out what was happening.

Hound is sympathetic to Buddy’s situation. While he is hurt that they kept this sercret, he has kept secrets too. Hound isn’t able to judge a secret. He is quick to accept Buddy, the bot and human.

He vouches for Buddy when they do come out to the rest of the crew.

“So, your real body is in this pod here and then your mind goes into this body?”--Hound

“Yes.”--Buddy

“… This sounds like a human film I saw one time. I don’t remember the name of it, but it was a rather long one.”--Hound

Ironhide

Ironhide already has his servos on Buddy and is running to the medbay. He is not wasting any time, for all he knows every nanosecond is precious.

“Buddy! Oh Primus—EVERYONE OUT OF THE WAY! SOMEONE GET RATCHET TO THE MEDBAY STAT!”--Ironhide

A moment of silence for the mechs that got trampled by Ironhide trying to get to the medbay.

He doesn’t know what just happened, but he knows that something like this isn’t common.

It’s just Ironhide and Ratchet when he comes in. As Ratchet starts examining Buddy’s body they come to a horrific conclusion, Buddy’s body wasn’t even Cybertronain. In fact, it had some similar human machinery than anything close to their anatomy.

It was a hollow shell.

A soft thud was heard in the medbay. It was coming from out of the pod. A muffled noise was heard from the inside.

“Ratchet, did you hear that?”--Ironhide

“Shh! Quiet!”--Ratchet

…

*muffled* “GET ME OUT OF HERE!”--Buddy

“Did—did that pod just—”--Ironhide

*muffled* “IRONHIDE!”--Buddy

“Yeah, I think it did! Pass me those pliers.”--Ratchet

Ironhide and Ratchet carefully pry open the pod and out popped Buddy.

Everyone is just surprised at what was happening. Ratchet is jumping into action seeing how sickly Buddy looked. Ironhide wants answers but he also knows that this isn’t the time for it.

Buddy does eventually tell him and Ratchet what was going on. Ironhide… he can’t exactly be too angry about this no matter how much this bothers him he can’t.

He knows what it’s like to fear for your life around bots that could potentially end your existence.

Ironhide does talk to Buddy about it.

He vouches for Buddy when they tell everyone else on board.

“Kid, go on and sleep. It’s been a long day even by Autobot standards.”--Ironhide

“I’m okay ‘Hide.”--Buddy

“Kid that’s not a suggestion. When was the last time you slept?”--Ironhide

“…”--Buddy

Buddy starts sprinting in the opposite direction.

Ironhide is close behind.

“GET BACK HERE AND SLEEP!”--Ironhide

“NO!”--Buddy

Prowl

Prowl is internally freaking out when Buddy’s body goes slack. He is quick to hoist them on his back.

“Buddy? Buddy?! Now’s not the time for your games! Primus, Ratchet!”--Prowl

He is quick to comm in Ratchet and escorts them to their room as it was the closest. Prowl is not expecting a tiny human to come crawling out of the pod looking half dead. He had his sneaking suspicions about the pod and all of the human references Buddy had made, but he thought he might have been a bit too paranoid.

“…”--Buddy

“…”--Prowl

“I can explain—”--Buddy

“You BETTER START!”--Prowl

Ratchet was so close to exiting out of the room when he saw Prowl arguing with a malnourished human with Buddy’s discarded body in a corner.

It takes a bit for Buddy to explain as they are trying hard to stay awake. Prowl while he wants all the answers, he backs off seeing how Buddy is. After Ratchet helps patch them up Buddy does their best to explain everything.

Prowl has conflicted feelings about Buddy hiding their identity.

On one servo he is angry.

How could Buddy hide such important information from everyone, from him?

On the other he is understanding.

He can’t count the number of times where he had to lie low in fear of triggering the enemy.

Not that he would ever admit that.

Prowl does give Buddy some space to decide on his feelings of this new discovery.

He does make up his mind and stands by Buddy as they explain everything to the rest of the crew.

“Was what we had… was it real?”--Prowl

“Prowl, all that I said was true. None of it was fake.”--Buddy

“…How can I trust you?”--Prowl

“You shouldn’t… but if things seemed fake on your part—”--Buddy

“No, no my feelings were true.”--Prowl

“Friends?”--Buddy

“Friends.”--Prowl

“… What in the Pits did I just witnessed?”--Ratchet

[crying-fantasies]

Zookeeper

Masterlist

Activating in the early morning was easy, Earth and its beautiful sunrises were more than enough to activate movement protocols to catch on to the first rays of sunshine, the apricot smell in the air, the tinted particulates of water still not settling in the dirt, birds flocking above to catch their first meal, dogs yawning in the households’ gardens or the cats stretching in the windows, this was life, it was, his armor trembled slightly by the chilly air entering all systems, followed by the unmistakable scent of your body, taking your image in his processor to his spark, snuggling his face plate over your messed up hair, making it worse by the electric pull of his field and spark; your sleep at these hours has always been the deepest, and Hound takes no offense in it, relishing in the way your arms try to loop around his neck cables, fighting to not let go, “I need to go to the crops, just let me-”, he gives into temptation, snuggling you a bit more as his engines are showered in your warmth, “okay, five more minutes”.

30 minutes go by, and he fights his way out of bed with at least five kisses on his jawline and pressure under his modesty panel as incentives to stay and a still drowsy you in the covers, he feels slightly guilty for leaving you to fight off the cold by yourself but things need to be done already, who knows if the crows are already waiting for their first fuel schedule of the day? Better to go if he doesn't want the rage of the whole gang against him or you.

Easy to say, not to realize, “Ouch”, he has to mimic your onomatopoeia of getting hurt if he wants his work partners to believe they're exacting justice over his tardiness as he fills their feeder to the max, as fast as he can so they can stop the beak attack and avoid getting injured while at it, pretty sure the vet next town will have some questions if it happens again, “ouch, I’m sorry”, his digits open the external terrarium, the aurora snakes as sleepy as you, only one raising its little head when he is noticed, taking the slithering animals and putting them in his neck cables to help it raise the temperature until the sun reaches a good heat.

Once the troublemakers are well-fed for the morning he looks at the plants, thankful as all is intact, crops growing healthy at a healthy range with no snails or insects, took long enough, but no one can deny how nice it is to partner up with the fauna, still, he does believe the lasting fear of humanity in the long run of evolution has a great part in why Mrs. Parish keeps screaming when she catches a glance of the domestic aurora snakes he adopted to control the rodent's increased population, he does feel bad for the rats and mice but it is the way of life, Hound just hopes someday the little mammals would stop assaulting his crops and finally settle in the terrarium he has already done from a few weeks ago, maybe then he could try to manage a positive agreement with them in the same way he did with the crows and the snakes, even when he still isn't sure if the snakes got their benefits in real consideration in the same way the birds did, but yeah, Hound does the best he can to provide a fair place for them.

Hound takes a glimpse at the rising sun, his vents expulsion heated air as his panels retract a little, the early morning sun is finally above, and one aurora moves more energetically so he lets it go to do the job, the snake is smart and experienced enough to move away from the alien plant that is in the center of the crops; Hound mimics the sound of the crows to say “no harm” as he points at the snake and the plant “no touch”, some look at him once their fill is completed, soon going back with their flock to impart the message, with that done he begins to tend to the most delicate plants he can handle without damaging, watching absentmindedly at the pitch of land he hasn't touched yet, maybe he could use it for more crops, or maybe a rice paddy, he can go to the local library and download some knowledge, ask Mister Alunga as he has some on his place, Hound knows that books are good and that he can download, but it is also very important to learn from the people, and mister Alunga may be a tad bit grumpy but he has more experience than most as he is an elder, oh, the crows are over him now, especially the older one, leaving a shiny pebble over his helm, if she does that, then he is forgiven, his digit does its best to give little scratches over her head, “thanks”.

Meanwhile, with coffee in hand and bleary-eyed, you can only sip on the mug while watching Hound play Disney Princess blended with Steve Irvin, and yeah, that's the alien you want to marry.

[revelboo]

Transformers x Reader Masterlist

Or ‘look, I organized the nonsense.’ Only the first chapter appears here, with previous/next navigation added to the parts to make it easier to read. This is an 18+ blog.

Buy me a coffee: https://ko-fi.com/revelboo

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RevelBoo/works

About/Warnings/Assorted Headcanons and Scenarios are here

IDW/G1

Starscream x Reader/ Soundwave x Reader/ Megatron x Reader Everything Is Alright Everything Is Alright-full chapters

Wheeljack x Reader Circuits and Wires

Jazz x Reader Over it Now

Soundwave x Reader-stand alone When You're Around

Thundercracker x Reader Better Open the Door

Bluestreak x Reader Where I Belong

Prowl x Reader Stand Too close

Cliffjumper x Reader TKO

Sideswipe x Reader, Sunstreaker x Reader Can't Finish What You Started

Optimus Prime x Reader Gravity

Bumblebee x Reader Last Night

Skyfire x Reader Floating Down The River

Rumble x Reader Alcohol Eyes

Skywarp x Reader Stop Talking

Ratchet x Reader Feel Like Rain

Waspinator x Reader Worker Bee

Ironhide x Reader Hold Me Down

Vortex x Reader I Can't Decide

Grimlock x Reader Shiver

Constructicons x Reader Drive

Insecticons x Reader You (Don't) Know Me

Trailbreaker x Reader Too Tired To Wink

Hound x Reader Heavy Boots

Sunstorm x Reader Love Me Dead

Alternate Takes

Megatron x Reader Skin and Bones

Metroplex x Reader I Can Feel You

Seeker Trine x Reader True Romance

Soundwave x Reader, Shockwave x Reader Clumsy Heart

Rainmakers x Reader No Strings

Megatronus Prime x Reader Give It Up

D 16 x Reader Fight For You

Silverbolt x Reader Save World Get Girl

Lost Light

Megatron x Reader Invisible Monsters

Drift x Reader The Samurai Code

Rodimus x Reader Attractive Today

Whirl x Reader Delirium

Scavengers x Reader A Lifeless Ordinary

Ultra Magnus x Reader The Conversation

Swerve x Reader Lose Control

Swindle x Reader Hangman

Tarn x Reader L.G. Fuad

Ultra Magnus x Reader The Conversation

Pharma x Reader Pulp Fiction

Skids x Reader Hysteria

Starscream x Reader Overdone

Sunder x Reader Whipped Cream

Rung x Reader Anything For You

Brainstorm x Reader My Way

Chromedome x Reader x Rewind Circles

Tailgate x Reader x Cyclonus Chain Me Free

TF Prime

Soundwave x Reader Bad Idea

Ratchet x Reader The Weakends

Knockout x Reader My Favorite Accident

Megatron x Reader Broken Arrow

Wheeljack x Reader Crooked Ways

Shockwave x Reader Point of Extinction

Starscream x Reader Bottom Feeder

Dreadwing x Reader Anything At All

Smokescreen x Reader Resolution

TF ONE

Megatron x Reader It Had To Be You

Starscream x Reader Inside Out

B-127 x Reader The Coma Kid

TF Earthspark

Tarantulas x Reader Disappear

Megatron x Reader Give Up/Give In

Bumblebee x Reader The Future Freaks Me Out

Soundwave x Reader Son Of a Gun

Starscream x Reader Disaster Hearts

TF Armada

Starscream x Reader Even If It Kills Me

TF Animated

Optimus Prime x Reader Broken Heart

Blitzwing x Reader Hello Helicopter

Bulkhead x Reader Time Turned Fragile

Blurr x Reader A-Ok

Shockwave x Reader Safe In The Dark

Megatron x Reader The Devil You Know

[hoiststowline]

everknown

hound x sick!reader

His stride moves with purpose, half on its volition as the remaining fragments slip to his processor, a single thought tugging happily free. This was the end of the strain, the final handful of strenuous moments he needed to push through, and the light at the end of the tunnel finally appeared within reach.

The radio silence was unforgiving, forced to suppress a squabble that brewed angrily in his throat. Asking him to do something mean-spirited and wounding was like a knife to the spark, recalling the small voice attempting to mask the waver on the other end of the line. "I think it’s probably just a cold.” The reassurance was appreciated, but he wasn’t entirely sure he believed you. “I'll be fine! You worry about what you need to do Hound, and I'll see you soon,"

An ex-vent, shaking his processor free of the idea that somehow things had gotten worse over the course of three days. He hadn’t wanted to leave you alone, forced to persist in such a situation without someone there to help you. But as it all dwindled down, he was strong armed into his responsibilities, and he would admit loudly that he wasn’t happy about it.

The walk to Prowl's office was done via muscle memory, exhausted frame rattling with a yearning, an urgency to leave the Ark as fast as feasibly possible. He hardly waited for the officer to reply to his wordless query, punching the button a little too forcefully, not entirely patient enough to let the panel slide over in full.

Prowl doesn't acknowledge him, lest at first, watching from the corner of fatigued optics as he tosses another data-pad to the ever-growing pile. Hound wastes no time, offering a hum of greeting before heading back towards the door, only stopping dead in his tracks as Prowl's voice pierces his audials.

"What's the hurry?" He huffs, spinning in the desk chair rather grimly. "You still owe me three other reports,"

"Cliff's got somethin' to add to 'em." He drawls, not turning to address him, fearful he'll sense the veiled lie. "Said he'd drop 'em off in a cycle or two,"

"I need you to sign off on them." Hound only relaxes when he hears the chair squeak, confirming he's turned back to his work. "You know that."

"Yeah, ah do." His shoulders slump forward, silently praying that Cliffjumper would hold up his end of the bargain. "Can't do anythin' 'bout it until he finishes."

"Will do." Prowl waves him off with two lazy swipes of his servo, never moving to address him in full once more. Taking that as dodging a very formidable bullet, he slips from the room and begins back down the hallway, careful to ensure a quiet exit with no other unwanted interruptions.

For having everyone avoid you for the better part of forty-eight hours, it seemed unrealistic for someone to want your company. Hound had shown up after a impromptu phone call, rattling off that he was on his way and left little room for argument. "I'm still sick-" You'd tried, but he promptly put that to bed, stating he was ten minutes out and to be ready for him.

Now, after a disorienting ride to the Ark, you stand with shoes glued to the icy metal of the floor, perplexed. A shiver runs up aching joints as uncertainty and delirium rattle a conflicted mind having slept most of the drive. Though, it was no wonder that most of this felt like a lingering dream, shifting warily on unsteady legs as glassy eyes nervously scanned Hound's shared berthroom. A cough rasps from a sore throat, a residual taste of medicine, and cough drops dampening heavily atop your taste buds.

At the sound, the mech steals a glance over his shoulder, an unfamiliar frown settled onto his face-plate. You appeared downright exhausted, looking somehow more knackered than when he'd seen you just three days prior. After fretting, rightfully so, you'd encouraged that it always gets worse before it gets better, but the worry never leaves his processor.

A nest of blankets and pillows had been removed from your room and tossed in his alt-modes back seat upon his insistence, feeling overly guilty for pulling you away from much-needed sleep, but hopefully doing so for good reason. He wanted to monitor your condition and be close enough that if anything happened, he could get you to a human medic without issue.

"Y'arlight?" He mumbles, keeping his volume at a minimum. "I mean, obviously not, but that don't sound so good,"

A sneeze, quickly followed by another, hastily stuffing a rosy nose into the crook of your elbow. "Mhm, I'm fine."

With such a defeated tone, it only prompts Hound to make cursory final adjustments before turning his attention in full your way. "C'mon, ya need your rest,"

Heels lift off the ground only to rock your weight to the tips of your toes, then back from where it initially dispersed. "I don't think this is a good idea, Hound." You wheeze, still unmoving.

"Why's that?" He lowers himself to a knee, expecting you to finish the remaining distance as always, but for the first time, you don't, only alarming him more. "Am I botherin' you?"

He's not going to point out the fluid that brims within your eyes just because he's uncertain if the blame is on the sickness or another ailment. It becomes apparent that you had been distant, but perhaps he'd been a bit too pushy in attempting to comfort such a worry.

"No, not at all! I don't wanna get you sick," You whisper, hushed enough that his audials hardly picks it up. "I'm still contagious, I think, and the medicine hasn't even kicked in, and-" Another sneeze and Hound waits patiently for you to finish the thought, but you just start to furl in on yourself.

"That's very kind of you, y/n, I appreciate that," He replies, optics dimming slightly as he reaches a servo your way, a wordless question you always know the answer to. "Don't think you could get me sick if ya tried. Ah feel bad yer sufferin' so bad,"

Your gaze bounces from his hand to his face, a small sympathetic smile twitching free. Somehow finding the strength, with great effort, you peel formerly stuck shoes free, languidly making the short distance to his call. "You sure?"

"Positive," Hound rumbles, relaxing once you approach. "Darlin', even if you could, nothin' was gonna keep you away from me any longer." Once within reach, he takes your hand between two digits, not liking how cool to the touch you are.

At Hound's natural body heat, you shuffle closer, almost pulled magnetically against his hold. Your shivers cease for the moment, beginning to lean forward as his unoccupied servo comes to your back, wordlessly asking permission to pick you up.

You sluggishly nod, a poor answer, but he understands all the same, carefully lowering you onto his awaiting palm. “If you ain’t better in a couple hours, I’m takin’ you to a medic.”

Almost violently, you shake your head, eyes fluttered shut as he slowly stands, painfully so as to not jostle you. “You’re so warm…”

“Y’just figured that out?” Hound chuckles, surveying you warily. “y/n, I’m bein’ serious about the medic, though.”

With the same unyielding caution, he moves onto the berth, yourself deposited on the pile of pillows he had created there, though still nestled in the crook of his arm. Your head lulled against his chassis as his hand rests on your knees, pulling a blanket over your form as you bundled deeper.

“Oh…okay.” You relent, cheek smushed as your fingers grasp at the fuzz of the blanket, completely delirious. “Love you,” It’s hushed and congested, bringing an air of relief as you teetered on the edge of sleep.

“And I, you darlin’. Sorry it took me so long to help ya,” His thumb runs over your lower legs, soothing like, guilt beginning to crawl back into his chest.

“S’okay,” You reply, nose wrinkling to suppress a sneeze. “I know you’ve got…stuff to do.” Even in your half-asleep state, Hound can easily find how genuine you are, insistent all the same.

“Yeah, but it ain’t fair.” He replies, voice soft. “Y’deserve a lot better. Someone who won’t disappear when…ya need…them…”

As he looks down, you’re entirely conked out, breath evened as he ex-vents soundlessly. “Right. Sleep.” He decides, voice barely audible.

About an hour had slinked by when the door panel slides over, Cliffjumper standing in the doorway with an armful of datapads. He goes to round off into a list of what Hound needs to sign or edit, but the green mech raises his free servo to his mouth-plate, pleading with him to remain quiet.

“You really took my next six patrols for this?” Cliff whispers, looking down at the figure cuddled against his side.

In response, he nods happily, moving through the datpads as Cliff waits. “They’re sick, Cliff. ‘N I had to make ‘em wait three rotations.” He’s being fairly lenient, scanning over the reports before handing them back to Cliffjumper.

Little does he know, or assumes even if he does, he doesn’t care- that patrols were a good thing. It was almost a laughable deal, one that he had to compose himself for when Cliffjumper had brought it up. Patrols are lengthy hours and are often the most boring part, but he finds himself looking forward to them, now that he has someone to do them with.

“Gross,” And he knows what that’s about, moreso that you’re ill and not that Hound’s a lovesick bot. “Do you want me to go get Ratchet?”

“Maybe in a bit. I’ll let ya know.” After the last document, Hound moves to get up, hopeful not to wake you, but a servo comes to his chest, gently pushing him back down.

“Gimme the last one,” Cliff ex-vents, feigning annoyance. “I’ll take them to Prowl. Doesn’t make any sense to get up now.”

“Thank you,” An easy smile finds its way to Hound’s faceplate.

“I’m sure they’ll just get sent back anyways. You always are missing something,” Cliff waves him off, moving back across the room to leave, only to pause at the door. “Tell y/n they’re stupid for getting sick. And then tell ‘em to feel better soon or whatever.”

And he’s gone, but not without a poorly stifled laugh from Hound.

[hoiststowline]

Can I have a first kiss scenario for hound with human femme reader?

hound x reader

[a/n: any hound request is absolutely my pleasure to write. he's just so lovely.]

He’s fairly positive that everyone but the object of his affection knows of his enervating romance regarding you, the scout unable and struggling to find the courage to present his feelings to you with dexterity. Hound felt that everything he did lately felt clumsy, stumbling over words that usually came unchallenging in conversation, and has been caught staring about five times too many. It’s so damn easy to study your smile, the way your cheeks lift somewhat to accommodate the bend of your lips and every time he gets to see it, it feels like a reward and a punishment altogether. 

It’s no different than the ones you cast towards Cliffjumper, Mirage, or even Sunstreaker when he makes some quip that causes you to giggle. He’s crazy to think perhaps there is one saved special, a more carefree and blithe grin that upstages all others that have come before it. It’s unlikely, but he’s long been a fool about many things, and he wasn’t about to stop daydreaming about its existence when it wasn’t entirely proven it didn’t subsist. 

This time, it’s different, it’s a reunion a long while in the making. He’s been on a reconnaissance mission for about four and a half weeks, much shorter assignment than he’s accustomed to, but by far the longest you’ve both been apart. Earth’s time measurements often left him confounded, as stents that don’t appear extensive are quite the opposite in your perspective. 

He’s been back at the Ark roughly three hours give or take, enough to be medically cleared and undertake the necessary paperwork. It’s exhausting to prepare all this intelligence and information for a grand portion of it to be tossed into oblivion because it wasn’t useful or it was old news.

Yet, Hound does it without argument each time because the sooner it’s accomplished, the earlier he can seek your company. Not typically being one to skip out on assignments, Prowl was floored to discover the first time he’d tweaked the edges of his patrol to include your home. With a heavy spark, he made a pact to finalize his responsibilities before joining your camaraderie, though he didn’t have to be happy about it. 

Eventually, carrying an armful of data-pads, he begins the trek down to Prowl’s office when nervous chatter could be heard just around the corner, leading into the expansive room that would be the flight deck. He ventures to pass it by, making a mental note to assess the situation on the way back to his habsuite when he picks up your voice, enough to comprehend that you are not in a jovial mood. 

Immediately, he’s pivoting and heading straight for the cockpit, just five paces down the hall, followed by an expeditious left. When he reaches the interior panel, it slides over upon his proximity, and he finds you’re bargaining with Mirage to discover when the bot himself was supposed to return to the Ark. 

At the noise, you both freeze, fearful that you are being too loud and disturbing the peace. Hound can’t recall what Mirage said, his gaze trained entirely on you and the glassy look in your eyes. 

“Hound!” You’d exclaimed, but something different occurred, something else accompanied it. It caused him to drop the seven or eight data-pads he’d had in his hold, bewildered as that smile he’d convinced himself he’d imagined erupts, one that is just pure elation that could not be contained. 

At the dramatic clatter, you’d jumped slightly, but the smile never left your face, scrambling and nearly tripping across the floor to make it to him as efficiently as possible. Hound knows he’s got to have the dumbest expression on his face, but he can’t bring himself to care as he drops to a knee, empty arms now wide as he patiently awaits your embrace. 

“When did you get in? I had no idea you returned,” Mirage moves to begin collecting the dropped data-pads, but not before gently patting Hound on the shoulder. “Welcome back, buddy.”

He’s so distracted by the way your arms fight to wind around his neck but collects himself to address MIrage. “Thanks. ’N not too long ago, but don’t worry ‘bout that, I gotta get those to Prowl-”

“I got this,” The blue mech laughs, gesturing with his helm toward the paperwork. “Somebody was very worried about you,” 

Hound mouths thanks as Mirage disappears out the door, the panel closing back over with an automated hiss, leaving you both in shared solitude. “And how are you?” He rumbles, servo cupping your back as you pull rearward to address him, fingers splayed across the warm metal just around his collarbone. 

“I should be asking you that,” You laugh gingerly, hastily blinking away that worried emotion. “I just wanted to make sure you were doing all right. You’re not hurt, are you?” 

Hound blinks twice before comprehending what you’ve said, his unoccupied servo coming to rest over your left hand, dwarfing it where it resides on his chest. “‘M fine, ah promise. But, m’sorry to have been gone for so long.” He whispers when he’s so close to you like this, afraid to talk any louder to disturb such a perfect moment. 

“It’s okay,” The smile persists, even if it’s a smidge mellowed, just so your cheeks don’t begin to twinge with discomfort. “But I won’t lie, I missed you. Like a lot, a lot,”

At that, he chuckles, the action felt as it reverberates up from his chassis and tumbles out his mouth. “I missed ya more, y/n.” 

There’s a pause, a brief stutter where you both just smile stupidly at each other, the cool touch of Hound’s servo furling softly to hold yours within his grasp. Everything stopped, your heart leaps to your throat as you remove your free hand from his clavicle to rest on his cheek, Hound leaning negligible weight into your benign touch. 

“Yeah?” You rasp, leaning just an inch forward, waiting to be dismissed, but the idea of backing out now never crossed his processor. If anything, he moves closer, just near enough that you can see the sincerity dwelling in his cerulean optics. 

“Willin’ to bet on it.” He breathes, though his voice box hitches as you close the remaining distance to plant a kiss squarely atop his lips. 

[hoiststowline]

first contact au - cliffjumper x reader x hound

a/n: more scrapped fics.. first run of what would eventually (partially) become the prologue of winter of our youth!!

Rubber soles slide across the drenched Earth, scrambling to stay upright as the rain slams against the surrounding uneven ground. In a moment of aspiration, a dramatic pivot off to the left, finding a flooded route that only swipes away more of your balance, hair matting against a terrified expression as the hike continues to incline. 

Whatever had been previously on the hunt, or still was, could not be heard nor seen in the distracted looks you spare over the shoulder. Heavy breaths escape trembling lips, grabbing and pushing aside jutting branches and shrubbery as they enter your vision, desperate to leave vast distance between you and it. The weather hindered most of your senses, feeling that never-ending fear creep up from your stomach and settle heavy in your chest, unable to focus enough to shake it free.

The adrenaline is astronomical, but the yearning to fight kicks in too late, as the insane idea of stopping back there would only end in a death sentence. Just as you find a sliver of safety, hoping that you are in a position to try and catch your breath, a weapon fires too close to your location, piercing your eardrums enough your palms come to hold over the sides of your face to try and block it out. 

It was close, closer than you'd ever like to admit, sighing aloud. Your legs ached with each stride, muscles screaming as the uncertainty rings of just how long you'd been running, and a familiar paralyzing fear swallowed you whole. Sprinting as far as possible in an opposing direction to the threat, all while navigating an area in a blinding and disorienting storm, would prove to be your downfall. A sharp gasp for air escapes you as another shot fires, shuffling around recklessly to pinpoint the problem. 

"What the fuck!" A breathless exclamation with no one to hear it, unable to find another soul, you take off into the trees once more. Eventually, you barreled into an open clearing as the sky erupted, a shout of thunder followed by a crack of lightning. Fearful and exhausted eyes hurriedly scanned the horizon, debating whether or not it was best to keep going or try to find a place to hide.

Whatever you had seen had to have been the beginnings of a nightmare, a plea for help tearing through your throat as something rumbles closer, and it was not the present storm. 

Just as you turn to face your demise, something moves from behind you, a blur of red catching your peripheral vision before you're hauled off the ground and thrown over a solid shoulder. It momentarily frazzles you, blinking violently as your brain cannot comprehend the situation that arises before you. 

"Put me down!" Finding your voice after a handful of seconds, you instantly begin banging uncomfortably against your subduer's back as slippery palms turn to fists. They entirely ignore your supplications as they take off through the forest, their stride much longer and faster than yours. "Let me go!" 

They seem flared at your largely rational return to being swept off your feet, and not in a pleasant way. "Would you- stop hitting me!" He growls, his voice the only descriptor you had. "I'm tryin' to save you!" 

"Save me?!" You exasperate, another round of thunder annunciating your words. "You just- grabbed me!" 

"No time for formalities." He huffs, vaulting over a fallen tree with his unoccupied hand as he maneuvers through the environment easily. "If I had stopped to explain, you'd just run off again." 

"And this is somehow better?!" The palm of your hand comes to push up off his shoulder, hoping to get a glimpse of his face, but he displays his rather inhuman strength plainly. "If this is your idea of helping-!"

"Would you shut the frag up for two kliks?" Annoyance easily protruding, he slides effortlessly down a short slope, mud gathering at the bottom of the foothill where he now stands. His words confuse you immensely, enough that you go to rattle off that this all was a horrible hallucination when a perception hits rather hard. 

"How do I know you weren't the one following...me..." Your gaze then shifts downwards, observing his red exterior. As lightning breaks overhead, the flicker of blaze catches its metallic shine, a stark contrast against the dark woods. 

"I know what was followin' you, and believe me, you don't wanna stick around and wait for that guy." His hand is uncomfortable across your waist, grasping it taught as you have little room to fight it. "Just trust me, okay? You just have to right now." 

With no other choice, you cease your poor attempts to twist free, dropping like a dead weight against his back. "What was chasing me then?" It's meek, halfway thinking he hadn't heard you above the rain, but he answers assuredly. 

"It was a 'con. Somebot-" As if he realized who he was talking to, he backtracks rather heavily. "Agh, forget it. Doesn't matter, Primus knows I'm already in trouble for doing this." 

Before you can question him further, the same sound echoes, similar to the firing of a gun. A yelp leaves you, causing his body to tense, pace picking up. "Hound!" He shouts, taking a fast right. "Any time now would be great!"

As if out of nowhere, headlights blink to life, and the roar of an engine revving overpowers the downpour. As the lights approach, they bathe you in their soft glow, casting a shadow over both you and your so-called savior.

"Sorry!" Another voice echoes, wheels churning through the mud as it eventually approaches. "I couldn't tell if he was still followin' or not!" The second has a southern drawl, much more friendly than the gruffness of the one holding you.

"Who's Hound?" Though asked more for yourself, your query would go unanswered, yelping as you are hauled off his shoulder and thrown into the green vehicle. 

"He'll take care of you," No words come to your tongue as you stare up at him, jaw dropped as the door nearly closes over on your feet. 

"Y'alright?" The center console lights as the Jeep takes off and as you go to face the driver, a shriek leaves your lips as there is not a soul in the seat, yet the steering wheel spins erratically. "Ya don't look so good." 

You don't remember fainting, but the insanity of the situation presented you with no other coherent solution. 

Cliffjumper recalls the evening's events rather vividly, and not because he fondly harks back on them. He finds a yearning to assist that rings rather loudly in his processor, and that is not something that typically interferes while he's tracking a 'con. Hound and himself were tucked well within the confines of the woods, perfectly hidden, and it was the scream of something that caused them both to freeze in their spots. 

Hound did it because you were innocent, and had nothing to do with a fight you knew nothing of. Cliffjumper can't find a reason why he wants to help so erroneously, but as you pass by his hiding spot, the unease and dread on your face are enough to kickstart his joints. 

"Ah'll take care of the 'con," Hound instructs, to which he doesn't linger to hear his responsibilities. He knows what he needs to do, and it's a mutual understanding that Hound can resolve the rest of it with no further problems.

As if no time had passed at all, he falls in pace parallel to the human, waiting for the perfect moment to make his move. He hasn't figured out exactly what to do once he has you in his hold, but he knows you're safer there than out here, by a long shot. 

When he catches you pause in that open clearing, he begins slowly moving forward, eventually, close enough to shove a small figure onto his shoulder and continue onwards without missing a beat. Cliffjumper doesn't know what to expect of your reaction, but it's certainly not to beat the slag out of his outer plating. 

Hound recalls the evening's events a little differently, and not because Cliff's version is incorrect. He remembers being crouched behind several rock formations, well blended in with the green shrubbery and the imposing storm. When your scream echoes over the teeming rain, he finds it impossible to ignore the pulsating cry for help, forming a plan that he could only hope is effective.

You're terrified, unknowingly briefly locking gazes with the mech in your wide-sweeping observance of the terrain. Your rapid spin to assess your surroundings showed that you had no idea where you were going as long as it was out of sight. You needed help. And with the present situation, Hound was in no place to deny you, even if you never even breathed a word his way. 

"Ah'll take care of the 'con," He remembers saying, transforming in one fluid gesture into his alt-mode, before taking off in the opposite direction than his partner.

The Decepticon is close, closer than he anticipated, when Hound's weapon fires, he returns a successful one that hits him in the front bumper. The recoil is horrific, but the pain is ten times worse, shooting up through his chassis. A groan is successfully stifled, but it's a wound he recognizes as superficial, gratefulness inordinate. 

He transforms again, hurriedly scanning the area for any sign of movement, but it's likely a retreat, being so exposed to the elements. Still unsure, Hound returns to his alt-mode and speeds off, hopeful to find Cliffjumper had taken the human to safety. 

"...good job, Hound, you offlined the human I saved." The pain shooting through your head was the first thing that alerted your consciousness that you were awake. It was nearly unbearable, even though the voices above you were alarmingly familiar. 

Someone sputters, wildly offended. "No, don't you dare Cliff. This ain't my fault, and they ain't offline!" 

"They're not moving." He answers matter-of-factly as if stating the obvious. "How do you tell if an organic is alive?"

"I'm alive." You groan softly, eyes squinted shut as your palm smacks your temple. A discernment crosses your mind that you must've been unconscious for a long time because you find your clothes are nearly dry and sunlight is now filtering through the slats above you.

It was difficult to recall the previous evening's events, as every time you cycle through right before you pass out, it gets fuzzy. Something beckons you to open your eyes, and nothing in your wildest dreams could ever prepare you for the two that were staring back.

The red one, the one who you think you met the previous night was on the left, just over twice your height with a scowl adorned on his face. He appeared unfriendly, azure eyes narrowed as your gaze bounced to the right, even more, taken aback as your heart leaps to your throat, a fast wave of nausea hitting you like a train. 

"Stop screaming!" Cliff shouts, servo clenched around a fistful of the back of your sweatshirt, halting you just in front of him as you try to escape. "You're safe, relax!" 

"Safe?! Relax?! You were the one that was chasing me last night!" Comparatively tiny fingers fight for purchase, squirming around to try and free yourself once more. "I remember it was some kinda robot-thing!" 

"I was the one that saved your aft!" He glowers down at you, bright eyes irate. "The 'con was the one after you!"

"They don't know that, Cliff." The larger one rumbles softly, keeping a vast distance since your initial scream. Hound perceives you're distraught, try as you may to hide it, but he doesn't want to be an additional factor to your stress. "They've got no idea who we are or what any of what we're sayin' means." 

The smaller mech pauses but does not relent on his grip. "I guess that makes sense."

[drabbletron]

🔞 MINORS DNI 🔞

Hound is the kind of mech that will talk you through an orgasm. Lots of "there we go, darlin" and "That's what I like to see, sweetspark" while he holds you and rides it out. Probably kisses you wherever he can while he murmurs how good you are and how he doesn't deserve you and how he loves you so much.

He is probably one of the most gentle about interfacing, too. Just really in it to make you feel good and loved.

I've been thinking about doing more smut, but things are up in the air at home rn, and I can only really write at work. Lot going on. Still into transformers tho!!!

[hoiststowline]

state i'm in

hound x female!reader x cliffjumper originally posted on my ao3 here!

Though disappointment would translate easily through body language, a round of unspoken words tangle together in a tight-lipped mouth. The receiver beeps, prompting a message to be left, but all feels wrong other than a simple question, asking to return the call whenever time was best. 

Hound would be lying if he said he wasn't troubled by the... now four unanswered calls, but he's in no business to question the absence. It's a Friday evening, you had mentioned prematurely in the week how you had taken the night off from work, planning, and waiting to do something to take your mind off the monotony and exhaustion. You had your own life to live, as did he, but that nagging feeling that you always stuck to your schedule, fear rising that not all was well as you did not pick up your calls. 

He was a worrier, that he'd surrender willingly. Cerulean optics bounce between his communication device and the door to the hallway, temptation seeping deep into his wires. He could drive past your place to see if your vehicle was there or if a light was on. Perhaps you were resting in anticipation of a long night or left your phone on the counter while getting ready. 

All seemed rational, but he just had to be sure. 

With a heavy sigh, he stands from his desk, digits brushing data-pads and stacks of work he should be preoccupied with. He can't pry his processor away from the image of you hurt, upset by something he does not know of yet wishes to resolve. You're a ray of sunshine within a dark war, a guilty plea that he can't seem to shake his shoulders of, soaking in every moment he is so graciously allocated. 

Swiping the device off the desk surface, he crosses the room simply with a perplexed and distracted mind, dentas digging uncomfortably into his bottom lip. Just as he reaches for the door, a fist begins pounding on the other side, and in a struggle to open it before the visitor rouses the entire Ark. 

The panel slides across the floor cleanly, the light from his room slipping into the hallway as it illuminates the offender. "That was fast," Cliffjumper mumbles, squinting curiously up at him, surprised. "What, were you like standing at the door or something?" 

"I was 'bout to go for a drive," He tries to keep his composure, but that familiar anxious feeling arises in his chassis once more. "Somethin' you need?" 

"Yeah." The red mech still eyes him carefully as if he's vying to spot the lie. "Got a klik, before you go?"

The couch sinks comfortably under your weight, and the dull hum of the television envelops the room rapidly. It all seemed fine from this angle, convincing yourself this is what you wanted, a quiet night in and nothing more than your own company. You could argue the events of the past few hours could have gone a little better, the universe could have cut you a little more slack than what was granted-

But better this than ending on a sour note. Well, more sour than an hour ago. 

A throw pillow compresses under your hold, arms wound tight around it as you hug it close to your chest. Things were allowed to go wrong, the world didn't revolve around your plans, however, it didn't mean that your emotions could understand that as wisely as your mind would.

Just as you bundled deeper underneath a blanket, the realization passes that you left your phone in your bag, which now hangs sadly on the back of the kitchen chair. You suppose it can remain there, you don't need it, but then again, you promised Hound a call before you crashed for the night. 

You're nonplused that he hasn't tried you at least once, shrugging the blanket off and then gathering yourself off the sofa with an exhausted sigh. Your feet feel heavy as you shuffle into the kitchen scooping your bag into one hand as you rummage through it using the second. 

In an instant, you pale, finding the sound had been switched off at some point, your screen illuminating several missed calls and messages. Cliffjumper had tried you at some point as well, though his attempts were not as scattered as Hounds. 

"Shit," You curse, fumbling to send a text as quickly as possible, when someone presses your doorbell, then several loud, intimidating knocks follow. Blanching, you gather yourself as quickly as you can, scrambling across the linoleum to make it to the foyer. Not quite fast enough, as another round of aggravated thumping follows, to which someone hisses a sentence, muffled by the wooden door.��

"If she ain't here, I'm gonna tear that slaghead to-" He doesn't get to finish the likely nasty sentence as you tug the door open, satiated as the voice you only knew belonged to one mech.

"Cliff-" You start, but are met with a bit of shock and unable to finish your thought as your tongue glues to the roof of your mouth. Amusement wrestles forth first, then a bit of worry, a query rising as to why the two of them were here unannounced. 

"I jus' wanted to drive by and make sure ya were okay-" Hound raises two hands, holding them between the two of you as if to offer his condolences. "He made me give up yer house number," His shoulders slump forward, defeated as the rowdier of the two crosses his arms over his chest. 

Hound's holoform you've met twice before, so he was not the direction of your immediate reaction. The first time he used it, your cheeks hurt from how hard you began to grin, wondering how he could get it to look so much like himself without a sliver of doubt. Still tall, broad-shouldered with a short dirty-blonde mullet and a pair of jeans that pillowed over plain brown cowboy boots. With a green t-shirt tucked neatly into a brown belt, he radiated his friendly bearing with a wary smile. 

However, Cliffjumper's was a blatant surprise. Their vast difference in size would display an opposite effect, yet Hound is much more docile and compassionate, Cliff more ill-tempered and laconic. 

"Not a word," Cliff grumbles, standing just shorter than Hound's shoulder, his holoform more suited for him than you would have originally thought. Looking past the two of them you find an army-green jeep and red two-door idling at the end of your driveway, headlights dimmed out. "I only did it because you went AWOL." 

Your head tilts to the left, leaning your weight into the doorframe before you continue. "AWOL? I'm sorry, but I did tell you both I had plans tonight,"

"Yes, yes ya did-" Hound begins but is interrupted as Cliffjumper shoulders past you into your foyer, scoping the place out without an ounce of permission. "Trust me, I wanted to do this in the least invasive way possible," 

A small smile finds its way to your face, looking up at him with a bout of laughter stuck in the back of your throat. "It's okay," Stepping to the side, you sweep your arm backward as if to gesture to him inside. "I'm sure you can tell it didn't work out." 

You close the door as he enters, the two of you walking a couple of paces in sync to find the scout ferreting around the small space. "M'sorry." Hound pats your back gently, his touch is eerily warm as his large palm rests against the top of your spine. "And 'm very sorry 'bout all this. I was jus' worried." 

"It's alright. Maybe I can salvage a crummy night," Humming in acknowledgment, your understanding demeanor changes as you observe a blur of red headed straight for your bedroom. "No, you're fucking not, Cliff," 

"Where is the bastard?" His short brunette curls move with him as he spins to face you, icy blue eyes narrowed into slits. 

"Where is who?" You straightforwardly reply, confusion apparent.

He recoils in anger at your words, temper flaring as he answers you gruffly. "Hound said-" His gaze moves behind you, to which you turn slightly to find Hound making a cut-it-out motion with one hand. "Nevermind," 

"Oh," You realize their assumption, a brittle laugh escaping before you continue. "That was supposed to be four days ago, the date never happened." 

"Do you ever know when to shut the frag up?" Hound sulks, coming to stand beside you once more. "C'mon, lessgo." 

He sends an apology your way, beckoning Cliffjumper towards the door when an idea passes you by. "Hey, wait a second. I…are you guys busy tonight?”

Immediately, the stack of work atop his desk crosses his processor, taunting him as it needed to be completed painfully soon. But you looked so despondent, troubled by something he had no clue of, and that stridently tops most things on his list.

The fast decision of what harm could a couple more Earth hours do to his already side-tracked mind? They both exchange a look, Primus knows that the scout could name nothing more important, but he's waiting for him to have the final say. He would never disclose he'd love to stay but knows that Hound would have no hesitation in remaining, gladly. 

"No,' Hound starts, drawing out each syllable. "But we already are intrudin' on your evenin', y/n-we'll leave-" 

"Stay?" You ask, a glassy look in your eyes wordlessly pleading to not be left alone. " Please ?"

Cliffjumper wastes no time in scrolling through your streaming services, scanning endless movies and TV series with determined eyes. He settled on the floor, not before snatching a pillow from your sofa and resting his chin atop the cushion.

You had slipped into your bedroom to change into something a bit more comfortable, plaid pants and a cotton shirt. When you re-enter the room, Hound has nestled onto the right-most side of the couch, previously engrossed in whatever Cliff was fiddling with, likely the remote. At the sound of your door creaking shut, he turns, looking over at you with a soft smile. “Everythin’ okay?”

You nod, moving around the furniture to join him, his arm lifting easily as you all but slump into his side, a blanket tossed over your legs. Hound hardly budges, his appendage lowering as it contorts along your hip, his hand placed politely at the top of your thigh. “I appreciate you both checking on me,” Whispered, as to not disturb tonight’s episode of Dateline that Cliff had evidently selected. “The last thing I wanted was to be alone.”

“I can tell,” He mumbles into the crown of your head, lips musing your hair slightly. “Ah didn’t want to be a hindrance more than a help,”

“Never a hindrance," Answered firmly. "I should’ve had my ringer on, somehow it got turned off,” You explain, finding it increasingly difficult to not be lulled to sleep in his arms. “I wasn’t ignoring you, I promise.”

“Ah know.” Hound wants this, how effortless it all seems, but yearns more than anything to solve all your problems without a second thought. You deserve a lot more than he can offer or provide, but he understands you definitely don’t warrant the cards you’ve been dealt recently. “Wanna talk ‘bout it?”

At his question, Cliffjumper perks considerably, as if he was guiltlessly listening all along. “Something did happen?” He asks without turning, though he’s gone preternaturally still.

“No, don’t trouble yourself with it. Either of you.” Your eyes move between the two of them, trying to end the current conversation. “But I am so grateful you’re willing to hang out.”

He practically growls, now pivoting to address you, but Hound sends him a look over the top of your head that you cannot see. Instead, he tosses the pillow elsewhere, now opting to crawl into the space beside you and sprawl out, his head rests in your lap as his legs dangle over the armrest, a small scowl on his face.

“Cliff, you’re feral,” You laugh, at which Hound’s thumb runs happily against the cotton of your pants.

“I don’t know what that means, but remind me to kick your aft later when I look it up.” He murmurs, now facing the television as it returns from a commercial break.

“Thank you.” You hum, content. “And sure. I will.”

“If you touch her, yer losin’ a digit.” Hound is serious, but a little pinch of amusement rises in his words.

“You look ridiculous with that haircut,” He tiredly argues, stealing most of your blanket. “Shut up,”

“He is feral,” Hound agrees, losing his confidence immediately as your hand comes to cup his jaw, placing a kiss on his opposite cheek. In mild shock, he barely catches you bend to place one on Cliff’s forehead.

“But we love him,” You say, hand slipping downwards to settle atop his unoccupied one. “I love you too, H,”

He's so curious how you toss that word out so positively and patently, a natural response when in the comfort of your friends. It's a huge understatement to say your cultures were similar, so much collided and meshed in mutual understanding, yet, the topic of love was an unspoken one. You didn't mean it any less any time you did say it, yet, it came much more instinctively to you than he. 

Somehow, each time strikes him differently. You've said it to him in moments like these, quiet and reserved, and also in moments where you are giddy and a bright smile resides on your face. He does not doubt that you do love him, but perhaps the translation is a little lost to him. There's nothing more to want than your smile, and though you unknowingly have him wrapped around one of your tiny little fingers, you never take advantage of such a tremendous feat. 

It's impressive, to say the least. Hound's got a big spark, but he isn't so easily undone as many would perceive. 

At that, he descends a tad lower into the cushion, landing a single kiss atop your head. “Ah love ya too, y/n.”

[hoiststowline]

by and by

hound x reader

Hound likes surprises, perhaps not in all contexts, but is more akin to the instances where he gets to make others jovial and not so much in a staggering sense of a stalemated contest. He can't help himself most of the time, the way your lips flutter into a smile and hold there as colorful irises twinkle just an ounce brighter as you prattle off thanks, something he wasn't searching for but is delighted nonetheless. 

There isn't much he can surprise you with, understanding you deserve much more in a grander notion, yet he hopes these smaller gestures are enough to display his immense gratitude. You’ve done countless, sometimes thankless tasks, many of which he’s witnessed and ensures you are recognized, at least in his optics. 

He’ll always appreciate the company, often vying for it when it’s not feasible on either party's end, a massive ask that you seldom say no to. He finds himself parked just outside your occupation’s door, engine rumbling fiercely as he awaits your departure as patiently as possible. 

It’s about fourteen kliks past your promised end time, and a thought elapses by that perchance he was wrong about the shift’s hours. Just as he goes to send you a message, there’s a stagnant slam that pierces the air, only to find your form shuffling down the concrete steps, a defeated aura radiating profusely from your body language.

You look so sad. Hound’s even certain he catches a glassiness in your eyes that he’s never seen before, understanding wordlessly that any attempt to make you smile would be in vain. He’s picked you up from work many times when you exited the back door with a smile, albeit tired, though you'd always brush off the question with a simple: I'm fine!

And he foolishly believed you every time. Not wanting to pry, yet this appears to be the product of a long-withstanding battle, he can tell. All those times you’d seen him first across the lot or were aware he was waiting outside, meaning all those instances, you left whatever was bothering you inside. 

That tugs mercilessly on his spark, not sure how to solve your problem, but wanting to without as much of a second thought. Hound observes as you run tiny fingers through your hair, a frustrated sigh tumbling from frowned lips, digging around your bag for likely your phone. You had a lot on your mind, obviously so, and it didn't appear as if you wanted company, but he would present the option nonetheless. 

Vying to get your attention, he's left with sparse options to gain it in such an open space. Not wanting to startle you, he opts to roll forward, activating his holomatter once he gets close enough to the sidewalk, tires gritty against the dirt. 

In the dark, your eyes catch the dimmed-out headlights, watching the driver-side door swing open to reveal a familiar face. A warbled smile overtakes exhausted features, scrounging up the last bits of positivity you had stored somewhere, only to share with Hound. 

But Hound looks distraught, unsettled by something as he approaches. Shrugging the evening's events from your shoulders, you decide it's best to lie. "Hi! This is a nice surprise," 

"Y'alright?" He mumbles, stopping just shy of your dirty shoes, yet his focus persists solely on your eyes. "Y'look upset, y/n, 'n don't try ta lie 'bout it." 

Your brow furrows, protesting in defense. "What do you mean?" 

Hound sighs, expecting your deflection but still disappointed to find it nonetheless. "y/n, ya look beat. Like somethin's the matter." 

"I'm fine," Waving him off, you approach his front bumper, expecting the passenger door to pop open, but to mild nonplus, it does not. "Hound?" 

"I ain't goin' nowhere until you talk," He stands firm, taking two languid steps forward to match yours, moving now to lean up against his hood, arms crossed. "'N don't you dare say 'm fine again." 

"But I am," Insistent; it takes all of your willpower not to flinch as the exterior backdoor slams once more, the root of your problem always not too far behind. "Fuck."

Hound says nothing, only surveys your co-worker as they trudge through the parking lot just past where you both stand. They look none pleased, casting a glance your way with a glare, yet your back remains turned, unable or unwilling to see. The jeep's engine nearly roars, his holo-matter silent, but an agitated look lingers on its face, stern.

"I'm not saying I'm always right," Once they're out of earshot, you murmur, yielding. "But some people are just mean," 

"Ain't that the truth." Sensing you want to leave, his holo-matter dissolves when no more eyes are around, the passenger door swings open with no argument. "C'mon, darlin'. Ah'll get you home." 

With no hesitation, you all but haul yourself into the awaiting seat as he wastes no time in turning his engine over, simultaneously clicking your seatbelt into place. The door closes as he takes off down the street, knowing the way to your residence without any assistance, a proud accomplishment he keeps to himself. 

"Y'had a fight?" Hound dares to ask, rearview mirror tilting to catch your gaze. "Or somethin' else happened." 

"We disagree all the time. I think tonight just reached the point of no return," Looking out the window, the lights blur and meld into one by his speed. "I got upset; I finally had enough. Guess it did no good to speak my peace."

"Hey. 'Course it did. Some people ain't worth talkin' to." His dash alights with each word, sincerity flooding a soft tone. "Same as bots. Primus knows ah've pulled myself away from others 'cause they ain't worth it," 

The familiar sting of tears crosses your path, sniffling defiantly as you move to stare out the window. No words feel right to continue the conversation, so you indifferently shrug, a warbled hum of acknowledgment your only reply. 

Hound senses your despondency and decides to carry on solo until he can resolve your immediate distress. "'M not one to play favorites 'n all, but ah sincerely doubt this was yer fault." He pauses, taking a short right turn. "Aw, hell, now that ah think 'bout it. ‘Hide might argue that I do play favorites, 'n I guess he's probably right..."

To his entire delight, he catches your lips purse, a sputtered laugh seeping through before you relent, tossing your head backward. "S'okay," You snort, nose wrinkling in happy thought, palm patting his dash affectionately to convey your point. "I play them too," Whispering the last part as if anyone could hear it besides the two of you.  

"I won’t tell. Cross my spark," He announces a bit more perkiness to his tone. "Y'know, y/n, if ya ever have a problem or wanna talk 'bout somethin'..." He starts, but he doesn't need to finish to understand what he means.

"Thanks. I try my damndest to keep work stuff at work, but sometimes it follows me home." A quiet settles between the both of you, Hound waiting patiently for your continuance, yet it proves a difficult feat the more you think about it. "I'll be okay. And the same goes for you, Hound. Anytime you wanna chat, okay?"

"Understood." He drawls, a little more satisfied with how a smile dawdles on your face, not so much forced as he saw earlier. "Y’got work tomorrow?”

”Yeah,” You sigh, retrieving your phone from the bag that had been placed on the floor. “I forgot to look at the schedule to see if it’ll be a good day or a bad one.”

Hound laughs, sincerely as if he understood your pain. “Least you can escape some of ‘em. I gotta deal with Cliffjumper all the time,” 

“Poor guy.” Another laugh breaks free, soothing an ache in Hound's chassis.

"If yer havin' a bad day, just try 'n relax. Don't let anybody get ya all riled up." He switches to a more serious tone, though it retains most of his comforting infliction. "You can get through it. Ah know you can." 

And for some otherworldly reason, his words of encouragement do the trick to shake you of your desolation. "Thanks," You mumble, tripping over once easy words. "Somehow, just by that, I think I'll make it through tomorrow." 

"One day atta time," He confirms, chugging forward by your driveway. "Well, here we are." 

Yet, the door doesn't open, and you make no move to exit. "Are you...?" 

Once more, he knows what you are wordlessly asking, spark leaping happily. "No, 'M not. Not a single thing on my schedule." 

The smile you return is one he wishes he could commit to memory, your entire face alighting and a recognizable twinkle entering your irises. Even if he had a million things to do, he wasn't particularly sure he could ever deny any of your requests, a feat unknown to you. 

"You sure?" A temporization is abiding in your voice. 

"Positive." He affirms, moving to start his engine over, proceeding past your house before continuing down your street. 

[crying-fantasies]

Early morning

It tends to be quite cold as your fingers keep out of the blankets, the air is a little damper these days, more than the city that's for sure.

Sometimes you do miss the fast environment, the easy access, not the usual heaviness and madness around or that one person entitled enough to believe their opinion is higher than others, but the comfiness and easiness of different gadgets, still, nothing that couldn't be brought in the occasional travel to the nearest town.

But it's such an inconvenience to go all the way there, but it is also an inconvenience to only go twice a month for supplies, just one more month and the Dominguez's store would be complete is an endless mantra as you dream of more pillows, more blankets, a heater, all things that you still don't have money to indulge into, and speaking of heaters, realization falls upon you when your hand doesn't touch anything at the other side of the mattress, maybe this is the main reason your dreams are slipping away as blankets are a little too cold in this fresh morning, you finally get out of the bed if only to see around.

An endless landscape is what greets you at the other side of the window, a few houses in between, it's a pacific morning, or as much as it can really be before your neighbor says his morning greetings for everyone to hear, you don't blame him for the glitch in his vox that leads him to shout almost everything, just do a list in your day, take a moment to deliver some medical rations to help him with it.

The morning still feels cold, your brain and body are in a war of tug in the prospect of waking up or staying in bed, it would be a very much easier decision if your partner was here in the first place, encouraging enough to drag you out.

You knew in what you're getting into before dating an early bird and moving into a shared house, but it's 5 a.m. and the sun is barely poking through the horizon, no heated blanket will prevent you from freezing if Hound isn't in here as you wake up, and nothing would guarantee he hasn't taken a shower or is covered in mud, either way he would need a shower and his usual warm exterior would be cold to the touch for a few minutes.

In the end no decision is made as your partner returns to the berthroom, his servo using a towel to dry him completely and the first thing he hears is for him to return to your side, the piece of fabric is forgotten in the floor as his engines rev so hard that he is dry in mere seconds, last leftover drops evaporated as he comes up the mattress, easily welcomed by your arms at the sides of his helm, a warm kiss that you can't keep, sleepiness still holding you captive, falling again to the bed as he follows obediently before kissing back.

He is a kind soul, but also a devoted worker if it involves the bountiful mixes of seeds gradually developing under the soil, barely there sprouts just above the surface, still incredibly weak, but you were so sure they wouldn't freeze in this early morning with all the equipment used to prevent it, trial and error has been invested to secure so, and he deserves a break as you deserve a good start of day.

Hound could do so much to keep the cold away as he just indulges in your plea, not even resisting when you call him for a second time and his spark pulses hard, radiating warmth, "it isn't that cold right now", those are his own words as his servo reaches for you, holding you just right above the mattress, and taking his side again, the warm feeling above every part of his armor still isn't enough, he has to reset his voice regulator when something like a groan escapes him as your cold fingers find a sneaky way under his armor, fingertips touching his warm protoform.

It's cruel, and he tells you so, but he doesn't mean it, moving just right to press his protoform against your skin, quickly accepting that the longer it stays there the warmer it will be in mere seconds for you to set him free of your grip, you're surrounded by the warm ventilation of his, the hot air gets trapped inside the cotton blankets, his leg struts are just leisurely tangled with your own as far it can, Hound is on his side so kissing isn't so easy now, the next better option is to crawl your way to his neck guard, and as you do so he holds your body to prevent any danger, as if the bedding under isn't enough, "Good morning, Hound".

"Good morning to you too, my spark"

It's cold outside, the sun is still in the horizon, and there is a lot of work to do during the day, but you only exhale, kissing him once again and holding him in place, feeling him relax under your hands, Hound knows what you're trying to do, or at least catching on it, as his barely closed optics open once again, spell broken.

"Wait, no, the tomatoes, we must-"

"You're telling me to stop?"

Hound intake is closed tight to show you his answer, you laugh tiredly at his antics, his optics look at you as if you're the most beautiful thing he has ever seen, and you kiss him once again before the duties of the day do drag you out of the berthroom.

[drabbletron]

I'm feeling like writing some Hound smut. I've been thinking about what he'd probably say while doin the do and it's just sweet nothings and comfort. Fluffy smut king right there.

[crying-fantasies]

Growing sprouts

Masterlist

Part 1 |

Part 2 | Early morning

Part 3 | Zookeeper

Extras:

Ducklings | Hound doesn't have the spark to leave such pitiful orphans to their luck, so he brings them home.

[hoiststowline]

all three are about half done in my drafts, and i can't decide which to work on first :/

[drabbletron]

I'm hyperventilating rn

Wouldn't it be such a dream to slow dance and cuddle with hound by a campfire? He really is such a dream, and anytime I hear your song recs for him, it makes me giddy, and I can't help kicking my feet. I'm so lost on this dude fr. I blame you 💕

omg yes!! he loves the outdoors and nature, getting to do something like that with his s/o would make him fall in love all over again. moments like that, no matter how grand or small, he wouldn't be able to contain his elation. anon, I am here for the hound content always! 🫡

psst. my hound x reader playlist is below the cut 💞