#transformers shattered glass fanfictions

[emotionallyattachednerd]

Obey | SG Optimus Prime x f!robot S/O reader | NSFW 18+

Word count: 1400+

Warnings: Smut ( BDSM, pet play, oral and rough interfacing ), dom / sub, dark and a little twist in end. NSFW 18+.

Notes: It seems I can only write Optimus having a dark or controlling side. My other two that I've written are softer but still have that darkness. This is my own idea I wanted to try out. Enjoy it you beautiful sinners. 🥰

☕ Coffee

The collar fits firmly around your neck, leach attached that tugs you up to straighten yourself on your servos and knees, ruby optics gazing up at the purple mech sitting on the large berth covered in thick silks, all fit for a king.

You know the rules. You know how to play his game.

Optimus tightens his servo at the end of the leash as he observes you, helm tilting to the side as his crimson optics intensely drag across your slender frame. Tugging the leash he smirks behind his mouth guard as you let out a soft grunt but manage to keep your balance. He loves this, everything in his control.

"Crawl." His simple command is all you needed to hear.

Slowly you move yourself, crawling forward with a heavy sway of your aft, dancing silently as you get closer until in reach, his legs spread wide for you to have access. No touching, not yet. You know this. All you want is to worship your king.

Using your glossa you gently drag it across his heated panel, kissing the area lightly and nuzzling into him like a purring feline. You wiggle your aft from side to side slowly, moaning as you feel the intense vibrations coming from the device plugged in your valve, dripping fluids onto the ground as it runs down your thighs.

"You're making a mess." Optimus notices this through a heated vent. "Back up. Clean it up, with your glossa."

"Yes, my lord."

Doing as he says you slide back and bend down, licking up the fluids with your glossa and making sure you gather every drop of it to keep him satisfied. The vibrator in you continues to blaze intensely but you try to hold everything in as best you could. Once cleaned up you keep yourself bent over in a submissive position with your face pressed against the floor, optics full of hazy lust looking back at him.

"Hm." Optimus lets out a short hum. "Good. Now, put that mouth to better use, my pet." He retracts his panel for his enormous spike to emerge from its housing, throbbing intensely, bumps and ridges flaming violet along the length. The very sight makes you lick your lips eagerly.

"Yes, my lord." You answer before moving closer again, holding yourself back from going too fast. The last time you did that it earned you a punishment.

Without using your servos you gently drag your glossa along the side of his twitching cable, planting a soft kiss across a ridged area and sucking gently, earning a heated groan from him looming over you. Moving up you then kiss his leaking tip, swirling your glossa around the area before taking him slowly in your mouth, lowering your helm as you let out a low lingering hum that shocks through him, noticing his servos tightening around the leash and the silks he sat under.

While you slowly bob your helm you continue to take little at a time, sucking good, just the way he likes it. The vibrator in you sends pulses of pleasure through your frame, and holds back from overloading. You take as much as you can and relax your intake, knowing what he was about to do.

Optimus lets out a flared snarl before he tugs the leash harshly towards him, forcing you to take more of him, and his free servo grips the back of your helm and pushes you down fully on him, holding you still and savouring the exotic tightness around himself.

You feel every twitch and throb down your intake, full and stuff tightly as you relax yourself more to give him what he desires. After a moment he loosened his hold and pulled your helm away, his spike wet and bobbing out in your view. He keeps you close as he tugs the leash to have you look up at him, his other servo tilting your chin up.

"Hold still, just like that." Optimus purrs as he gazes down at you, his hard spike resting against the side of your helm with some of his leaked trans fluid coating the corners of your lips. "Such a beautiful picture. Now, get on the berth. Present yourself to me, like a good pet, ready for a hard frag."

"Yes, my lord."

Pushing yourself up slowly onto the berth you continue to move like a fancy cat, fluids flooding your valve making you quicker feel your warm juices threatening to erupt out. Once in position, Optimus kneels behind and removes the vibrator making you gasp out a low whimper. Your valve and node is so sensitive, burning with need to be touched and filled.

You feel him behind you, leash tugging your helm back a little as you feel his hot throbbing spike pressing against your valve, moaning lowly with desire, desperation to be filled by your lord.

With his free servo he grabs your waist and pulls you back onto his thick spike roughly, earning a lingering moan to leave you, only for it to grow further as he sets a slow and brutal pace against you, pressing firmly against your aft repeatedly with a sharp clang. Your frame rocks violently back and forth, your servos keeping you balanced as he uses you to his pleasure.

Every bump and ridge along his thick length tugs at your inner walls, ceiling node pulses with need as you vent heavily through eager moans. Optimus tugs at the leash again, forcing your back to arch against his thrusts as he hangs over your shoulder, heat radiating from his dark metal.

"You crave for this, every pain I give, every frag, you love it." He grunts solidly between thrusts.

"Y-yes, my lord." You manage to say between thrusts.

"Such a slut, needy whore, willing to let her lord do as he desires."

"Only for you!"

"Yes, all for me."

Suddenly, he fists into the leash, pulling you back all the way until your back is pressed against his heaving charris and thrusts into you with need, rutting firmly and choking you a little as he holds a firm controlling grip against you.

The pleasure mixes in with the pain, hungry moans continue to leave you, and all you can do is hold onto something and let him do it, accepting every brutal thrust he delivers while you listen into his feral grunts against your audio over again.

Your overload threatens to erupt, and he wasn't too far off either. Good. Optimus presses you down firmly onto the berth, pinning you and pumping his trans fluids deeply in your valve, thick ropes soaking through and filling your chamber within. During his grinding that is your cue to let go and you don't hold back anymore, overloading around his twitching spike, sensitive node burning with greed as you both calm down through your heated overloads together.

You're sore, tired, but it was a damn good overload, and you love the feeling of him filling you over again.

Optimus sits on the berth and pulls you into his lap then, having you straddle him as his servos roam gently over your frame and up to your neck, fiddling with the collar you had tightened on your.

When you feel the collar loosen and fall you gaze into your lover's optics, a poisonous smile creeping onto your lips as you lift your servos to caress his cheek platings tenderly.

"My lord, my king, that was fantastic." You purr in delight, leaning forward to kiss him after he retracted his mouth guard.

Optimus lets out a moan against your lips and grins softly as you break from the kiss. "My beautiful endura, my queen, you always keep me satisfied."

"I would burn worlds for you." And you weren't kidding. Everyone knew just how dark and cruel Optimus is, but you were just as corrupted. You loved the pain he inflicted on you, giving him what he desired and doing anything he asked. You two were perfect for each other.

"It pleases me to hear you say that." Optimus praises before taking your chin between his digits. "Now darling, it's your turn. What game would you like to play now?"

It doesn't take long for you to decide. "How about we go play with our prisoner?" You knew this is something he wanted as well, something you both did. Optimus lets out a heavy low chuckle of delight.

"That sounds like fun. Let's not keep him waiting anymore."

Wrapped in your king's arms, you both head towards the cells, where your most recent capture hanged in chains. You've always wanted to play with Megatron, and having your king join is going to make it all so perfect.

[shinyportalsandthings]

Got chomped by the writing bug again so how about some Transformers Shattered Glass Rodimus x Reader fanfiction?

Shifting Gears

Rated M (toeing the line into E though)

As an archaeologist, your curiosity has normally been a boon, especially while helping the Lost Light crew find more information about the Knights of Cybertron. However, pushing the button labeled “DO NOT PUSH” wasn’t the smartest idea. You are transported to an alternate universe where it seems the Autobots and Decepticon morals are flipped.

Takes place before the Overlord situation in IDW’s More Than Meets The Eye comics.

No use of y/n. Rodimus is a dork in any version and I love him for that.

Humor and angst. Also violence! :D

[transingthoseformers]

There's nothing quite like starting a fic, merely skimming the tags, and only realizing it's Shattered Glass halfway through

[blueskyscribeupdates]

I am once again pecking away at "Life in Glass Houses" like a songbird confronted with a pastry that is seemingly too large for it.

As a thanks to all my wonderful readers, I decided to share a scene from the next chapter. :) Truly, thank you all!

The wind whirled through deeply trenched streets and around the steel towers, pulling at the curtain domed over the balcony.  Knockdown's hand kept it in place, gauze loosely gripped in his slender fingers as he gazed down at the city.  His eyes moved from one familiar haunt to another: the park where he had learned to fly as a clumsy newspark, the creche where he had been taught his letters and had his wings measured twice weekly, the medical school where his destiny had been set for him, and the hospital where he had fulfilled it.  There was the bar where the interns complained about the senior staff, and the cafe where the senior staff complained about the interns. Midways up a steel-strutted building was the first modest apartment that had been all his own, and many stories higher was the luxurious one that came later.  

(The one he was standing in.  A moment of doubt, of vertigo almost, rolled through his circuits, but after a moment the ripples smoothed out. To hang back, to watch himself from afar, what was so odd about that?)

Other familiar sights were tucked between the silvery bars of the skyscrapers and apartment towers.  The plaza where open-air concerts played in the summer.  The clinic in the Dredges, where he volunteered in the rainy season. Dancers from a dozen incongruous festivals paraded through the streets.  Even from this height, he caught the thin echos of joyous shouts and familiar songs.  The skies were filled with Seekers swooping and laughing.

Knockdown pulled back from the balcony's edge and let the curtain fall. He didn't turn around, but he was not startled when a hand settled on his shoulder, enormous and smelling of crude oil.  A huge thumb rubbed over the flat of his wing.  He closed his eyes and leaned into the touch.

"Whatcha looking at?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"  The deep voice held a gentle reproach.

Knockdown opened his eyes. He half expected to see a smoke-wreathed battlefield or a small blue planet through a warship's window, but the view was the same: the city of Vos stretching exuberantly skyward, made misty by the curtain.  A flock of young jets tore past playing a rowdy game of air-tag, followed by trines moving in deliberate patterns.  Wingtip to wingtip, they arched and rolled in perfect synchronicity, the silky, wide ribbons behind them twining in loops and braids.

"What are they doing?"

"Courting. It's the Festival of Diamonds." Knockdown turned towards Brakeline, resting his cheek against his broad chest. It was as warm as he remembered.  "You should go."

"Why?" The hands fit comfortably around his waist.

"Because that's what happens." Knockdown swallowed, waiting until he was sure his vocalizer wouldn't glitch.  "Anyway, you don't belong here."

"And you do?" A huge hand cupped his chin, tilted it up.

This won't fix anything. It's not real.

Knockdown surged onto the tips of his pedes to meet Brakeline's kiss.  His spark hammered. The ice within him cracked, melt, before the heat of his longing.  Behind him the wind whipped the draperies and the trines roared in their flight.

"I love you," Brakeline said breathlessly when they broke apart.  "I'll never leave you."

"No?" Knockdown sombered. He turned away, his hands catching the curtains, leaning into them for support.  "And yet I'm alone."

"What do you mean? I'm right here."

"Only in my dreams."  

For a moment Brakeline was silent.  Then, quietly: "Do you miss me?"

The white gauze billowed around Knockdown's fist.  His vision blurred; tears, perhaps, or a creeping frost.  "You dare ask me that?"

No answer came.  

"Brakeline?" Knockdown turned around to face the replica of his old apartment: just as he remembered it, perfect in every detail.  And perfectly empty. 

He woke up.

[ughohyoumadeafunny]

Scenes idea- The final straw from the council of elders(and sentinals fall to villany) ( transformers animated)

For many moments in transformers, sentinal prime is considered the scumbag of autobots for his ego and self centered nature. He cares nothing but himself and when it comes to the safty of other sentiant beings, he just sees them as nothing. He'll even do things that would make primus ashamed.

So for some scenes that would come somewhere in season 4, I wanna see a moment where Sentinal prime get what he deserves.

So for this, we need to set up afew things.

1. Sentinal prime takes it to far agin

2. Even optimus and Ultra has had enough

3. Sentinal needs to be caught

4. The elders learn of all sentinals actions.

Now, after he is punished and exiled, who would he become?

Well, I have an idea, and some of you may not like it.

But I wanna make him somthing close to megatron from beast machines.

We already seen blackarachnia meet the animals that were used in beast wars, so maybe in season 4, while she is slowly being redeemed, we see sentinal's ego make him worst and worst. If he can't be a prime, no one can.

Maybe don't make him stuck in one place, but do have a moment were he becomes a predicon, I realy even wanna see him become Tarantulas in this series

[zephyrrhiesfyrian]

Miko harasses her new brother >:D

[autobot2001]

Distracted By Anger

Author: Autobot2001 Genre: Fanfiction Fandom: Transformers Rating: T Warning: mention of poor mental health Pairing: Drift X Jamie (OC) Description: Talking about Jamie's struggles angers Crosshairs.

Day 29; @augustofwhump: Broken glass @augusnippets path of comfort, alt: Protective caretakers

Crosshairs and Drift sit on the deck, watching the ocean while drinking water. With the day Jamie is having, they don’t want to go far from her, even while she’s napping. “Are we being ridiculous?” Drift asks. “sitting out here while she’s asleep?” “No, I don’t think so,” Crosshairs looks out into the ocean. “Her mental health has been concerning. I just can’t believe this is part of protecting her. While she’s a warrior, we protect her from serious injury in battle, and we must protect her from that glitch, Jadin, but this…” Still, Crosshairs fails to realize how hard he’s squeezing the glass he’s holding. The glass breaks in his hand. “Apparently, I need to protect you from glass,” Drift jokes. “And Cogman, when he finds out you broke another glass.” Crosshairs dislikes the joke. Drift gets his first aid kit capsule from his pocket and opens it. Drift knows how angry Crosshairs gets, watching Jamie struggle mentally and knowing Jadin wants Jamie dead. Drift feels more sadness thinking about all this. Both are quiet as Drift takes care of Crosshairs’ hand. “Done,” Drift says as he cleans the mess. Crosshairs is quiet. Drift knows his friend is thinking about everything Jamie struggles with. He leaves Crosshairs alone.

[benadrylcandlewhack]

I SAW YOUR ASK THINGY!!!

TF Resistance but Shattered Glass'd: What would it be like?

Fried I'm gonna be so honest, I don't care for SG that much so I never really put thought into what a SG TFR&R would be like 😭😭

Honestly off the top of my head, all I can say is that Sadie would be like this

[hardygalwrites]

Originally posted to FFN on the 31st of July, 2017

Simply archiving a writing challenge I did back in 2016 up to 2017 and featuring my favourite writing pieces from each week of the challenge here on Tumblr :]

← Week 50 (Misc.) – Week 52 (Misc.) →

you would not believe how little these two actually show up on screen at the same time . . .

Cartoon: Transformers Prime / Robots in Disguise 2015

Characters: Smokescreen, Knock Out, and Bumblebee, with appearances from numerous other characters (even ones not featured in the cartoons)

Synopsis: An Autobot Elite Guard rookie, a Decepticon medic turned Autobot, and an Autobot scout turned warrior turned street cop - three very different bots with a wide range of stories to tell. And we are going to spend the next year exploring said stories through daily-written drabbles, be they angsty, humorous, gut-punching, or just plain odd! Who doesn’t love a challenge? (2016 to 2017)

—

But You're Not

It frustrated Ratchet when bots came to him saying Bumblebee wasn't acting like himself. Did they really expect him to just bounce back after what had happened to him? No bot could just bounce back from something like that! Some bots just hid their trauma better than others, and Bumblebee, for all his field experience, had never been through something that required him to learn that skill.

'Until now,' Ratchet thought sadly.

He may have been born into this war, but Bumblebee was still a youngling.

'Well... not anymore.'

Ratchet watched as Bumblebee angrily pushed a concerned comrade aside. *I said I'm fine!*

Few is Better than None

Bumblebee nudged his teammate. "C'mon, Smokescreen, what's wrong?"

Smokescreen sighed. "I don't wanna sound childish or anything, but honestly, I'm kinda jealous of you guys. Everyone who's come home so far either knows or recognizes at least one of you as friends, or even heroes. And I know, I know - reputation, being known, that's not important - but still! That's something I've wanted for as long as I can remember, and I can't help but feel... kinda disappointed I wasn't able to get there."

"...Well... At least  we  know you. And personally, I'm glad we do. That's gotta count for something."

"Heh. Thanks, 'Bee."

War Stops For No Age

Bumblebee was a fine soldier. Inexperienced, a little overenthusiastic, and sometimes even naïve, but he still had the makings of a warrior. That didn't stop his comrades from teasing him and treating him like the little brother he was (much to Bumblebee's vocal indigence). Because though Bumblebee's comrades certainly respected him as a fellow Autobot and soldier, they were also aware that Bumblebee was still a kid. It was all they could do to ensure he kept that youthful enthusiasm for as long as possible.

Because in the end, war doesn't care who you are. If they didn't care, no else would.

Who is to Say What is Dark?

"You are not me," the other bot drawled. "I wouldn't be caught dead with my finish in that state."

Knock Out scoffed. The bot looked just like him, barring the paint color, state of the finish, and general demeanor. Honestly, did this bot get any medical work done with the amount of time clearly dedicated to that spectacularly pristine, red finish?

"Perhaps you're a clone," the other bot mused, again with that unnecessary drawl. "I'm sure you wouldn't mind if I do a little... examination?" He brought out a buzzsaw.

Knock Out sighed. Figures his counterpart in this world would be a maniac.

You Just Made a Big Mistake

The 'Cons outnumbered him significantly, he wasn't exactly in peak physical condition, and he had absolutely no one to back him up. Bumblebee wasn't discouraged, though. No, he was angry.

It wasn't often Bumblebee got angry. Frustrated and annoyed maybe, but not angry. But these 'Cons seemed determined to get a rise out of the young leader. And considering what they’d done, Bumblebee acknowledged that they had succeeded.

"I don't know what you want," Bumblebee said, vocals dangerously low. "I don't know if this is part of some overcomplicated scheme, or what. And right now, I don't care. Give me back my team."

[justmenoworries]

Summary: Airachnid prevents Dreadwing from doing something stupid.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Major Character Death, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Past Torture Fandom: Transformers: Shattered Glass, Transformers: Prime

[emotionallyattachednerd]

This is a NSFW 18+ blog. Please respect the rules. Feedback is always welcome and feel free to share/reblog my stories. Hope you all enjoy what I have to offer you beautiful sinners.🥰

Ao3

IDW

Shattered Glass

G1

Prime

Earthspark

Cyberverse

RotB

[shinyportalsandthings]

Had a much shorter fanfic story idea this time: Shattered Glass Rodimus x Reader (Transformers).

This Is Not A Negotiation (AO3) "Rodimus, second-in-command to the wicked Autobots, doesn't realize that the mech he's lusting after is actually a human piloting experimental armor. He's ridiculously charming, stupidly sexy, and …the enemy. You'd like to say you've had worse ideas, but you probably haven't." Mature due to violence and a little tiny bit of naughtiness. No use of y/n. Enemies to lovers (my favorite, obviously!)

[transingthoseformers]

Feeling emotions about the SG decepticons supporting each other through hard times and yes this is about the aftermath of "Chained" I'm biased

[ughohyoumadeafunny]

SG scene- WHY ARNT YOU IN VEICHALE MODE?!

* Scene, parking lot, after battle, the sound of a police car is herd*

Spike- Quick hide!

Starscream- Where?! We're to big for anything!

Spike- Do the thing then!

Starscream- what thing?!

Spike- * makes the transformer noise and movment*

Starscream-...oh..* transforms into his van form*

*police car pulls up*

Officer- Spike? What in the hell was that?! Sounded like independence day!

Spike- I was...seeing what that noise was! It was just kids playing a movie at high volume.

Officer-...OK? Well, let me know if you see those kids agin ok?

*the cop leaves*

Spike- * sigh of relif*

Starscream- what is a movie?

[zephyrrhiesfyrian]

A preliminary sketch for a group shot of the main mecha of Outpost Tarn!

On the back row, from left to right, we have Windcharger, Skids, Shockwave, Damus, and Trailbreaker; on the front row, from left to right, we have Forestock, Amp, and Nickel.

[autobot2001]

Unchecked Anger

Author: Autobot2001 Genre: Fanfiction Fandom: Transformers Rating: E Warnings: mention of blood Pairing: None Description: Crosshairs' anger results in a shattered glass.

Day 7 @fluffyfebruary; Pain @fluffbruary; potatoes | blue | glass

Cogman watches Drift peeling potatoes. He can tell Drift is stressed and concerned he’ll cut himself with the peeler. Maybe I should have told him no. Cogman worries. He’d likely just argue with me. Cogman sighs and leaves the room. He didn’t know Crosshairs and Drift returned until he walked into the kitchen. He hopes Jamie is with them rather than in her dimension. Worried about how bad things went in her dimension.

Cogman believes he got his anser as Crosshairs rushes down the stairs, pissed. He rushes to the three friends’ room.

Cogman sees Jamie asleep. There’s evidence that she has been crying. Cogman sighs frustrated, and closes the door. “What happened?” Vivian asks. “They returned,” is all Cogman says. How upset is she this time? Vivian worries.

“… I’m sick of seeing her hurt, and there’s nothing we can do!” Crosshairs rants. He doesn’t realize he’s squeezing the glass cup until it shatters. Drift looks up from peeling the potatoes. “Frag.” He gets paper towels to wrap Crosshairs’ hand in. There are shards of glass in Crosshairs’ hand. He hurries to get the first aid kit from its capsule. He sets it on the counter and puts gloves on before getting the tweezers. “Owe, easy, Drift,” Crosshairs complains as Drift pulls shards of glass out of his hand. “You know I have to remove every shard of glass.” Vivian walks in, seeing what’s going on. “It was an accident,” Crosshairs tells her once Drift is finished pulling the shards out. “Again? No more glass cups for you.” “Hey!” Drift and Vivian laugh. “Well, you did this before. You were ranting about Jamie’s mental health too, weren’t you?” Vivian asks. “Owe, seriously, Drift!” Vivian isn’t sure if Drift is angrily taking care of Crosshairs’ hand or if the cuts are serious, even if Drift hasn’t said he needs to stitch them. She watches Drift take care of the cuts and wrap Crosshairs’ hand.

“Ok, I think you both need to relax,” she tells them. “But I was making dinner,” Drift says, pointing to the potatoes. “Tell me what you’re making. I’ll cook.” Drift sighs, and tells Vivian what he was planning on cooking as he cleans up the mess from taking care of Crosshairs’ hand, but the first aid box back in the capsule and leaves the kitchen with Crosshairs.

The two sit in the sectional. Crosshairs pulls Drift close to him. “You need to relax.” “Says the mech who shattered a glass cup again. You need to be careful before that happens frequently.” Crosshairs looks at his hand, noticing the blue wrapping. “How did you get blue adhesive wrapping?” “It’s the same as the tan. To keep the gauze in place.” Drift leans on Crosshairs as Crosshairs turns on the TV. Crosshairs wasn’t expecting Drift to fall asleep. That wasn’t long. Crosshairs thinks. He carefully lies Drift on the sectional and gets the grey blanket that hangs on the back of the couch. He covets Drift and leaves the room. Cogman sees that Drift is asleep. He’ll ensure no one disturbs him. Crosshairs goes upstairs. He’ll stay in the bedroom, waiting for Jamie to wake up. Unaware that he'd also fall asleep.