#beachcomber x reader

• It’s quieter like this somehow. Or maybe he’s just more aware of the world around him at this size. Can hear birds in the trees, the wind rustling through the leaves, and insects in the tall grass. It’s strange to feel more at home on an alien world than he ever felt back home, but your world is alive in a way that he’s not sure Cybertron ever was even before the war. Everywhere he looks, there’s life. Watching you toy with the flowers, your eyes fascinate him. How had he never noticed those striations and flecks of color in your irises before? “Is it bad that I hope none of the big minds can figure out how to undo this?” He asks and you meet his visored optics, your expression surprised.

• “You don’t want to go back to normal?” You ask, frowning. Because that’s all the rest of them seem to care about. You’re pretty sure they hate being small. Especially smaller than humans. You imagine it has to feel particularly vulnerable to them. That it can’t be a pleasant feeling. ‘I think it would be better for your world if we didn’t,’ he says with a surprisingly human shrug. And it reminds you that the truce is a fragile thing. That it’s reliant on keeping both factions separate and preoccupied with literally anything besides plotting and scheming.

• Though, if he did go back to normal, he could hold you in his hands again. He could mass shift to be closer to your size. Tuck an errant strand of hair behind your ear. Let his servos linger on the curve of your cheek. Startling when you reach for him and pull him to you, your fingertips smooth over his helm. Can feel your heart beating against him, the rise and fall of your chest. Alien things that are still so familiar after being around you so much. “What about you, though? Don’t you miss being big?”

They've been following you around for a really long time! Ja. Call it love at first homicide attempt. The fire in your optics and the iciness in your demeanor really got them going. You left too soon, though, ordered by your superior.

Like a pretty, pretty ray of color, you were gone too soon. So unfair. Like really, did you have anything better to do? Maybe refuel or dance, but those don't come above Blitzwing! He should be your number ein priority.

You kept meeting him servo to servo on the battlefield. It's like someone was setting you up, tehehehehe. It wasn't easy, you know? Icy kept getting interrupted by Hothead and Random while planning all of it. It's a miracle he was able to succeed. After all, you aren't an easy bot to catch. They couldn't just com you and say, "Hallo, sexy Autobot, want to come and play a game of frag tag?"

Ooo, but that would be fun though! If they can learn to trust you, maybe then they can play with you. Or when you inevitably attempt to escape. There are more fitting punishments for escape than that. It's supposed to be pain, not pleasure, but why not both?

They do always say ze best things come in threes. Who says that? No one says that. Of course people say it!

Maybe their new designation should be indecisiveness. That's what led to you finding an opportunity to escape the first time. It's oh-so traurig that you did. Ja. Sie hatten such a great date planned before they'd turn you into Megatron for evaluation. They have to convince him to let them keep you after all! The date, the date though—they can't believe you were so selfish! Everything was going to go perfekt.

A night on the town torturing all those who got in your way. No, actually, they decided to have a candlelit dinner on top of a tall, secluded building with high-grade energon candies. Wait, wait, I remember now. You were going to make arts-and-crafts projects out of bones and scrap metal they had collected.

All three of them differ in their attempts to court you, if that wasn't evident enough already.

Hothead is equal parts possessive and aggressive. He doesn't believe any bot or con to be worth your time, other than them. His main love language is bloody acts of service. He defeats the bots that annoy you with ease; ja, he loves it. He'll stomp up to you if you're on patrol and force you into a fight so he can show his prowess. He'll prove to you that you should defect to the Decepticons because he is the best choice to be your sparkmate. He owns you, but he wants you to accept that. Something about your rebellious nature makes him want to punch you and kiss you at the same time.

Icy holds a quiet reverence with a need for control over you. He shows his devotion to you through increasingly complex deeds. It's truly a wonder he's able to pull some of them off, like kidnapping a bot you were close to in your unit and disassembling them.

He hid parts of them in places he knew you would find. The bastard was making you put back together your offlined comrade. He even left a short note that said, "Your absence leaves me in pieces."

His conjunx endura deserves to be courted only in the most romantic of ways, even if he finds romance to be a bit- futile.

Random is a mixed bag of limerence traits. He loves everything about you but also wants to have your backstrut in his servos so he can hear how satisfying it is to break it while fragging you into the nearest surface. You two have bonded through space and time. Ze silly bots you work for can't keep you away from him! He goes from PG to X-rated in a time that may just outpace any of Blurr's records. He'll offline your unit leader and then ask for headpats, pouting if you deny him such sweet solace.

Don't be so rude to them. Sie only want what's best for you, Elektrische Liebe.

𝚈𝚊𝚗. 𝙶1 𝙱𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 (𝚠/ 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐)

He's no stranger to the destruction that Decepticons cause, but it never gets any easier, man. So much evil in a beautiful world. It's almost too much for his spark to bear. Thankfully he has you. You lighten the load with your existence. It permeates anywhere you step and leaves behind a certain lightness in the air. Your aura is absolutely rockin', even when you aren't in the best of moods.

You joined the Autobots after he accidentally stalked you, which he profusely apologized for. He was walking and talking to nature when he caught a glimpse of you. There was something so alluring about you, so beautiful and just real. His steps grew lighter as he approached you. He didn't dare to disrupt you in your natural state.

The Decepticons don't care for such things, though. It totally slipped his mind that he was following a strange energy source. Apparently the Decepticons had caught onto it as well. They totally harshed the vibe of it all, destroying the surrounding nature and shooting at the both of you.

He scooped you up as he transformed and totally exited out of there, heading back as fast as he could for the Ark. The rest is history, man, but you know what they say: those who forget history are doomed to repeat it. He wouldn't mind repeating his meeting with you, but he'd rather have the foresight of everything that came to fruition.

He became your guardian because the Decepticons were totally not gonna let it slide that a human knew something about their plans. He doesn't dig fighting, but he'll do anything if it means keeping humans safe, especially you, dude. You're the flame he can't help but go to when everything around him is dark.

He's so chill that it's easy to overlook his yandere tendencies. You can't even see the ways his optics narrow when something gets close to disturbing your peace. It takes a lot to get him to snap. Harsh his mellow enough, and suddenly he isn't Beachcomber anymore. He's the violent collection of all his trauma.

Could you ever harsh his mellow enough to make him violent? No, never. You could make him melancholy, but he'll never lay a servo on you that you don't want.

Someone harming you causes his chill to switch to heat. He doesn't even sound like the same bot. He leaves behind sparks that return to their rightful place and empty frames that will rust and be reclaimed by Mother Nature. He doesn't even remember it. His subconscious processors lock those memories away, hopefully for good. His frame is shaking after. He's so disgusted at himself for taking lives when he simply could've disarmed them, maybe.

"What did I do, man? I swear I'm not a monster, sweetspark. I just—"

There's no justification for what he did. It goes against everything he is. He betrayed himself. He betrayed your trust in him. He spirals.

If you see him snap, then he totally isolates himself. He doesn't believe himself to be good enough for you, but he wants you so bad. He prays to Primus that you'll forgive him. As wrong as it sounds, he wants to be comforted by you, even after you saw him in a totally uncool light. He'll do whatever he can to make it up to you.

He'll show you the hidden beauty of your world and how soft his spark truly is. He just loves you so much, man. He's whipped, weak in the joints―bleeding his spark out when he's around you.

𝚈𝚊𝚗. 𝙶1 𝙱𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝙾𝚏𝚏 (𝚠/ 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐)

He's far superior to the idiotic flesh creatures that populate the planet he's forced to orbit. He's the best of his gestalt. He's the best company for himself. That doesn't mean it doesn't get boring up so high, all alone. He likes to observe the organics and their suffering while he awaits a command.

Blast Off may have a specific human that besieges his internal processors. There's a human he hyperfocuses on to pass the time. It's a simple, meaningless distraction, that is all. You caught him in your sights when he was wounded and separated from the other Combaticons. You froze. He was ready to end you when he heard the pedes of Autobots. He hid. You didn't rat him out. You went as far as to misdirect the Autobots.

You are a traitor to your species. Good. None of you deserve to live, especially not compared to his greatness.

Blast Off didn't annihilate you because he did not want to compromise his position in case any other Autobots were still sneaking around. He did not feel any positive emotions about your unneeded kindness.

He knows your entire schedule and your goings-out, or whatever you call it. He even had his audials specially heightened by Shockwave so he could hone in on you. Blast Off mostly uses it for recon on the Autobots. That's what he details in his reports anyway.

Thankfully Soundwave hasn't said anything about his way to pass time. He's felt the comms officer poking around in his helm, extracting thought threads from his processor that he'd rather keep private. It's most likely going to be kept as blackmail. Foolish Soundwave. He is not ashamed because he has not done anything wrong!

He will admit that he's talked about you to the other Combaticons before. You're so much weaker than any Cybertronian, and he'd love to crush you in his servos. The others don't look entirely convinced, but what do they know about his convictions? He could easily disintegrate you from space, but you are not worth his time.

You are so not worth his time that he abducts you so you stop wasting it. He goes on and on about how stupid and worthless you are. He gets a rise out of threatening you. He enjoys stroking your fleshy body and you being unable to do anything. Your presence calms him, not that he needs to be calmed down or aided by the likes of you!

He does his best to ignore your irritating breakdown. Can't you humans just stop doing annoying slag like this? You can't bargain with him. He is keeping you as a reminder of how much better he is than lowly flesh creatures. You should feel honored to be in his presence.

Stupid humans are so hard to take care of! No, he cannot let you take care of yourself. You will do it wrong. So what if he doesn't know anything about humans? That is wrong in the first place! He knows everything about you. He has watched you do your routine for many months now. It is harder to replicate than he thought, but you have been doing it for many years. Blast Off has only started.

You go everywhere with him, even into space. He got the proper things for you. You should be grateful that he isn't letting you starve up in space. He is allowing you to sit in his alt mode and make a living space there.

8 months, which is about ~244 days orbiting the Earth with him. You will have plenty of time to get used to him and he to you. It isn't like your human life was worth anything. He is giving you purpose. You are helping the mighty Blast Off thwart gormless Autobot plans.

You are right where you belong—with him. No more waiting in space all alone. It makes him giddy. Not that he suffered from loneliness or anything! He just feels accomplished, is all.

𝚈𝚊𝚗. 𝙶1 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝙴𝚗𝚍 (𝚠/ 𝚌𝚢𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚊𝚗 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐)

One could say, albeit in a cheesy way, that you are his light in the darkness of existence. When he looks at you for a moment, the vacuousness of life has meaning. What is the point of it all? You.

He has every part of you memorized by now, even the hex codes for your paint job, so you never have to worry about being unable to find the correct hue. He'd know your vocalizer from anywhere in the galaxy, no matter how out of it he could be. His fellow Decepticons attempt to tease him on how keen he is on you. It irritates him, yes, but as long as they don't say anything disparaging to your designation, he's able to brush it off.

How could he not be absolutely entranced by your very existence? You aided in keeping him online after Superion defeated Menasor, quite brutally, if he might add. You took such care in the entire gestalt. He had never experienced such a thing.

He only follows Megatron because he must. There was little pride in his leader's voice after the Stunticons were defeated in battle. He can't help but have felt like a shiny, new toy that he discarded after it lost its luster so soon. He anticipated it, but it still hurt his freshly formed spark. He thought all of his dark thoughts might shatter it. But whenever you cast your gaze towards him, he feels like he's being given life by Vector Sigma again.

You are part of the reason he takes such pride in caring for his frame. He wants to court you, yes, but you also seem pleased when you see him in good condition. He craves your validation that he knows he will eventually fall short of. There are so many better Decepticons you could bond with. You'll probably forget about him eventually. So he's motivated to ensure that he ingrains himself into your data banks.

He shows off in general, but especially in battle. He isn't called a Stunticon for nothing. Megatron notices this and orders that you be present whenever the Stunticons are to perform because they produce better results. It's always good to have a medic ready on a servo's notice. The entire group of cons seems to have a knack for playing too hard and always ending up half-offline, limping to you sheepishly. Perhaps you should have a section of the medbay blocked off just for them.

Dead End always visits you. He doesn't offer any commentary. He just sits in the corner and watches you. You're so busy sometimes that you don't even notice. A few times he's frightened you because he doesn't announce himself. You may not be able to see through his visor, but his frame language seems almost dejected by your temporary apprehension.

He grows to prefer to recharge in the medbay. He says it's because if the Autobots attack their base, he doesn't want you or any of the other injured Decepticons vulnerable. It's more or less the truth. You don't need to know the real reason anyway. Scaring you off is about the last thing he wants to accomplish.

He's a bit perverted. Don't blame him. He wasn't taught anything about Cybertronian reproduction or interfacing. All he knows is that sometimes his spike and/or valve gets leaky if he watches you too long. He doesn't see anything wrong with it. He probably would've whipped his spike out and self-serviced in front of you already if he hadn't been told that the parts behind his interface panel were to stay hidden out of a societal norm.

The greatest thing about having a visor is other cons can't (usually they can) tell when he's opticing you up. Something about your aft makes his processor run wild. He's accidentally revved his engine before when he's watched you bend over. He wonders how it'll feel in his servos. He wonders how any of you would feel in his servos, or in him now that he thinks about it.

He wants to see what kinds of stunts the both of you can perform together. You wouldn't deny him that, would you?

He likes putting you in compromising positions. It's partially because he badly needs your attention, but he's also so horny for you.

Seeing you splayed out after you get knocked down in battle? He's primarily ready to rip the helm off of the bot that did that, but he's also secondarily distracted for a moment. He short-circuits and won't stop replaying that memory for the rest of the cycle.

He enjoys shielding you from something just to get a chance to touch you. He has an awful habit of conhandling you. It's with such reverence that it's easy to get flustered from it. It's a sign of possession to him, but he also wishes to aid you. If you need help handling something or you don't have the height to complete a task. If your energy has been exhausted, then he will carry you, even if it is to the ends of the Earth that he has to do so.

𝚈𝚊𝚗. 𝙶1 𝙷𝚘𝚝 𝚁𝚘𝚍 (𝚠/ 𝚌𝚢𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚊𝚗 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐)

A reckless mech with an honest spark has fallen for you hard, in the middle of a war, no less. You've saved his aft more than once. That's enough to sweep any mech off their pedes, quite literally in some cases. He'd be spare parts if it weren't for you. And yes, he has to constantly remind himself of that as he gazes at you with hearts in his optics.

It isn't just your battle capabilities; it's also your personality! Being Kup's apprentice and all has shaped you into being something irresistible; you're also hard to catch off-guard, so he struggles to get time to flirt with you. Kup knows something is wrong with Rod's processor, so the old-timer constantly reiterates that spending time with Hot Rod is off-limits.

Come on! It's like both of you are allergic to having a little fun. With all that training you're doing, you look so depressed. It's like a Decepticon rummaged around in your chassis and blew your spark out. Sure, the war is, well, a war, but that doesn't mean there isn't beauty out there! I mean, look at yourself; you make his engines rev.

Daniel is always teasing him about what the humans call a crush. At first it sounded kind of violent, but after Danny boy explained, Hot Rod could do nothing but feel his faceplate turn blue. Yeah, he's got it for you bad. He's got a virus, and your designation is written all over it.

If only he could impress you. He craves your validation so badly that he puts himself in danger to show off. He needs to be the one saving you for once. He needs to prove to you that he's a reliable bot!

Yet he failed you big time when he let you leave for one of the Autobot moon bases. He almost attacked Kup, yelling at him about how it was irresponsible and dangerous to let you go without him. Kup knocked him on his aft and dragged him to the infirmary to get looked at. He doesn't care if his psych tests were a bit off. He was still told that he was fit for duty.

And he was fucking right! He should've never allowed you to go. When he heard you and a few others were coming back on a shuttle, he scooped Daniel up and drove so quickly to base that he almost drove off a cliff. He was so giddy to see you that his spark nearly shattered within his chassis w-when he saw the hole in the sid-d-e of the s-shuttle.

Decepticons. He would later learn, after catching you as you fell, half-offlined, that they ambushed you. Prowl, Ratchet, and Ironhide had their sparks so easily snuffed out. You survived because you hid, and hid well, but while escaping the shuttle, you got shot in the backstrut. Dead. Dead. Dead. So easily. And he clutched your frame as Daniel reluctantly rode in Kup to get inside the base.

He lost it, going on autopilot as he bashed some Insecticons to enter the base, nearly missing the leap from how distraught he was. He ignored any order that may have been given to him, running past dying comrades and through the line of fire of the enemy to get you to the medbay. Wheeljack was attempting to patch you up when a shot rang out of nowhere and seared him through the neck. He collapsed on top of you, and Primus forgive him because he shoved Wheejack's limp frame off and quickly pulled you behind a set of supplies as another laser just barely skimmed your right ped.

He sat in horror, frozen for a few moments until he noticed that your optics slowly came online. Your servo came up to cup his face, and no matter how weak the gesture was, it only solidified his infatuation with you. Every bot failed you except him. You'll never know how much in that moment he wanted to offline Kup for being so careless with your life. Sure, he couldn't have known, but something deep within Rod's processor, his spark—his very being―knew being separated from you would have deadly consequences.

He only left your side when he thought he could help Prime, but Optimus died, and he can't help but blame himself for not being enough. He's not enough to win anyone's affections or praise, but he promises one day he will be.

He refuses to leave your side throughout the trip. Kup has been somewhat calmed by his competence and allows him to cling to you. So many Autobots have already been lost. They don't need more, especially not you.

He's overbearing in an anxious way that is masked by his boyish confidence. He jokes with you in order to keep your spirits up, but his plating bristles whenever they encounter a new challenge. He's quick to put himself in between you and whatever threat may be ahead. Whether it be underwater monsters or the cruelty of the Quintessons.

He doesn't know how much more he has to learn before he can finally have you in his servos. It squeezes at his spark. If you only listen to him, then you'll be okay. He can protect you. Why can't you see that? Why do you insist on being independent? He can't risk you, damn it all!

And when facing Galvatron deep within Unicron, the only thing on his processor is you. Till all are one, but he needs to be one with you. Standing in front of him is the greatest threat to that future, and something slides in place inside of him. It's like the click of a lock. Suddenly he doesn't feel quite like himself anymore: older, stronger, more worthy—but for better or for worse, these feelings multiplied as soon as he touched the Matrix.

He obtained the Matrix and lit them in their darkest hour, but he wouldn't have survived this far if it wasn't for your aid. He can't help but question if you will accept him in this new form. He has won over Kup, saved Cybertron, and brought them into a new age—but still, will you love Rodimus Prime as he cared for you as Hot Rod?

𝚈𝚊𝚗. 𝙶1 𝙾𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 (𝚠/ 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐)

A mere squishy organic ruined his plans! You fooled Bruticus and caused the Decepticons to lose their fight against the Autobots. How were you able to defeat pure tactical brilliance with your tiny, idiotic mind!? Naturally he must kidnap you so he can learn your weaknesses and further account for the anomaly that is the humans of Earth.

The Combaticons will not be so easily vanquished again.

All you did was a simple bait and switch. When combined the Combaticons are dumber than a box of rocks. You've lasted longer trying to get through Dragon's Lair at the arcade than Bruticus has in battle. Kidnapping is scary and all, but you're more worried about the fact that you'll miss out on all of your favorite programs. The Autobots and Decepticons remind you of Voltron in a way. Maybe that's why you aren't as scared. The Autobots are the good guys, so they'll save you, right?

Not exactly. You aren't on the Autobot's roster of humans, and Onslaught is determined to keep you a secret from them. One missing human isn't exactly on their radar, considering they have the Decepticons trying to destroy Earth almost every day.

Megatron doesn't quite care as long as Onslaught doesn't let his pet do anything foolish. At first Megatron was strongly against the idea, but after seeing how appalled Starscream was at your presence, he let Onslaught keep you.

There's a learning curve because the other Combaticons want to play with you in ways that would certainly lead to you offlining. In human words, they'd accidentally kill you. This leads to him being exposed to you more than he'd like. He's forced to get used to organics because if he lets you out of his sight, one of the members of the gestalt could ruin his research. He's so fixated on you that it pisses him off. He despises what you are but is also strangely intrigued by you.

You're constantly bombarded with inquiries. The expectation is that you'll answer each one honestly and with a lengthy explanation if there is a lengthy explanation to give. He pokes and prods at your body, both eager and disgusted to learn what secrets lie within you.

He's private with this time. It isn't so much out of respect to you as it is that he needs a calm and silent work environment. He also comes to learn that the naked human body is considered an intimate thing. He isn't quite ready to share that or you in general with his fellow Combaticons, especially not the wet and lewd noises he manages to drag out of you when he fingers you. You seem much more vulnerable after certain activities, which leads him to perform them more often so he is able to get better results.

He gets more attached to you than he'd like. He asks for your input when he is planning. He expends resources on making sure you are somewhat comfortable. He defends you against some of the more unsavory Decepticons. He goes as far as planning hits on members if they step out of line and casually discussing it within the ranks of the Combaticons. It becomes commonplace to keep you safe and not play too rough.

He begins to see you as part of not only the Combaticons but also the gestalt as a whole. You're becoming too close to him. You're becoming too important to them. You are neither a Cybertronian nor a Decepticon. You are human, and that is an unforgivable thing.

He'll need outside help. The Insecticons. He has to exchange energon for their help, well, specifically Bombshell's. He knows how much that mech enjoys playing with minds. More importantly, Bombshell has been refining a cyberforming technique that Shockwave created. Bombshell has been practicing turning humans into Cybertronians so he can have more leverage against Megatron and the Autobots.

Onslaught will make sure Bombshell plays right into his servos. They work together closely, much more closely than either of them would like. Onslaught is incredibly paranoid that Bombshell will kill you during this process. It's long, requires skilled servos, and is incredibly painful. However, it does allow you to keep your human shape.

Onslaught has Bombshell cyberform you only some. He wants you to consider yourself so hideous that you won't want to leave. He wants you to know that the Combaticons are the only real, what's the word, family you'll ever have. You're his favorite creature to study with optics instead of those weak human eyes, a Cybertronian-made spark, a specially made spine, and reinforced plating around your more delicate parts.

Other things were exchanged from flesh to metal, but by far his favorite part was giving you the part you were missing. He doesn't exactly know the names of human genitalia, but you were missing either a valve or a spike, so he simply gave you both. Personally made by him. He even learned enough about the process to install these parts into you himself. They're perfectly made to fit with the Combaticons' interfacing gear. You may be tiny, but at least now you're adjustable. Breeding may also be possible. That's a possibility that he'll be able to think on when he has a moment. In fact, it is one of his favorite things to plan.

Is this the foolishness Megatron was describing? Perhaps. An irregularity turned mate―how fortuitous.

𝚈𝚊𝚗. 𝙶1 𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚓𝚊𝚌𝚔 (𝚠/ 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐)

In saving you from the Decepticons, you became part of the Autobots' ranks alongside the other organics they've picked up over their time on Earth. You became somewhat of his assistant. You make his job a lot easier when it comes to handling small machinery and ordering human-based parts. You also go along with some of his half-cocked ideas. You aren't as judgmental as some of his comrades. When things don't work out, you encourage him to try again. You're at least three-quarters of the reason why Wheeljack is able to save the Autobots' aft at the last moment so many times.

At first he thinks his processor is just bugged. Elevated biostats and a warm feeling in his spark whenever he sees you must mean he's contracted something. Ratchet's results state otherwise. The medic cautions him to distance himself from you until they find the root cause and the solution for Wheeljack's anomalies. He blows up at Ratchet (metaphorically), nearly getting into a physical altercation with him. He didn't mean to, and he's mad at himself after. Why did he react so strongly to the thought of lacking your presence?

You aren't Cybertronian. It isn't like he can bond with you. Yet he grows curious about human courting rituals. The longer he thinks about it, the more he accepts that he may have fallen for a human.

Some of the others within their ranks have had fragging sessions with humans, so why can't he have a relationship with one? It isn't exactly allowed, but Prime doesn't kick out any bot that's caught having relations with one of your people. For Primus's sake, Seaspray fell in love with that alien humanoid creature. These feelings he has shouldn't be so taboo.

It's just the nature of the thoughts. They're darker than he'd like. He's a mad scientist, but he isn't a mad scientist. He isn't anything like Shockwave or any other of those Decepticons! Still, he can't help but feel like he's gone too far before he's even begun.

Before fully accepting his feelings for you, he tests out various gadgets on himself to try and make it stop. He just needs to tone down this consuming possessiveness that's been growing unchecked like a patch of Morphobots. If anything, shocking, poking, and proding himself only solidifies his infatuation with you.

It's a good thing he has his mask, or you'd surely see how blue his lower faceplate gets when around you. You can tell that Wheeljack is acting off but not too much. It must be stress. He's been more, for lack of a better word, clingy lately. He keeps making up excuses to get you to stay in his lab. He's made a place for you to rest and even offers his own berth to you if that's more comfortable. You think he's just being protective, not knowing that it's customary for bots to court by inviting their possible conjunx to recharge on their berth. Sleeping in another human's bed can be completely platonic. You have no reason—you actually do have reason—to assume otherwise.

He asks you to keep it on the down low. Apparently there are some regulations he's skirting around by being so gracious to you. You're honored that he's willing to bend the rules for you. You're apprehensive about the possibility that one day he could choose to break all of them.

He attempts to court you through the things he's learned through your television shows and magazines. They have their own Wheeljack twist to them and half the time backfire, like the time he attempted to gift you metal flowers he welded himself. He forgot that humans have a greater sensitivity to heat. The metal was still too hot for you; you burned yourself. You don't know how much he wanted to offline himself after that.

Wheeljack is too loyal to the Autobot cause to attack anyone in it, even if he feels a festering jealousy when you choose to spend time with other bots instead of him. However, he (mostly) has free rein on how he wants to treat the Decepticons. He has some "fun" tools in the works for the Autobots to use on those Deceptislaggers. Some of the others become concerned. His new inventions are a little bit off. They're far more cruel in nature. It's borderline excessive, especially after the Decepticons capture you as ransom.

None of them had ever seen Wheeljack so distraught. He was downright terrifying, muttering to himself about all the atrocities he would commit when he got his servos on the cons who planned this. Prime ordered him to get put into stasis until Ratchet could fix him. Wheeljack panicked. He wouldn't be able to see you again. He wouldn't know if you were safe. You could get a conjunx and have a human sparkling while he was in stasis. You could die while he was getting worked on.

No, no, no. He'll get out of this and then figure out how to extend your lifespan! You only live for a little while. He surely can find a solution to that! Some elixir or even transporting your consciousness into a cold constructed frame like he did with Spike that one time. As interesting as that thought is, he likes you, human. There has to be some way to keep you as you but make you have a lifespan that mirrors Cybertronians.

First, he has to deal with Ratchet. He pushed back on Prime's order a little but gave in pretty easily. Optimus almost found that suspicious. Wheeljack is a good bot down to his spark, though, so Optimus trusts that he just wants to get better.

Instead, he assaults Ratchet, ensuring that all his tests will return normally. He tweaks Ratchet's memory components so his medic friend will believe he is a-okay. He feels sorry about messing with his buddy like this, but he has to. It's for you.

"Sweetspark, do you really need to be rinsing again? Blasters waiting for you so you can both go on patrol." You boldly say because you have absolutely no taste for Tracks perfect finish or a competent sense of style!

When he properly registers your words, Tracks cycles his optics and turns the solvent off. "I beg your pardon- what did you just say?" Because he must have misheard you over the solvent.

But you oh so boldly yet again, just continue to lean your frame against the shower entrance. "Sweetspark, you're already shiny enough for any night on the town. And your patrol buddy was worried you'd fallen in the showers. Are you ready to go?" Tracks wings fan high, and he has to force them back down with a scoff. All before he shoves himself past you to go find Blaster. He promptly ignores your field, trying to brush him on his way out.

Tracks is almost impressed by the gall you have to do what you do. Almost. But every time a name, or the touch of your perverse em field comes his way, his plating bristles, and his wings fan up. Tracks has to soothe it back down and readjust his wings before anyone can notice. If only you'd keep your sparkdamn mouth shut! Tracks can't be showing his beautiful frame off for everyone to see when you constantly have his plating fluffing the wrong way! He huffs and puffs and tells you to take your flirting where it's wanted.... away from Tracks! (Sparkdamn Blaster for actually entertaining your bothersome behavior!)

Tracks rightfully seethes, but eventually, loath as he would admit to his past self, your pet names eventuality become- acceptable... to a degree. As long as you're using none of the drab ones for his stunning self. He is, in fact, "gorgeous" and "beautiful" and Tracks is more than certainly "Darling." Now, Tracks never needed to be told any of those things (he was more than aware of his own grandiose). Though on the contrary, it was quite gratifying to be reminded of one's worth. So, Tracks begins to graciously accept the verbal praise. Tracks scoffs when the other Autobots try to claim your lionizing him. You were doing nothing of the sort! You were merely treating Tracks exactly how he should be.

-

Red Alert is trying to stop a full frazzled breakdown caused by his glitch hiking his sensors higher and higher. How could they have left the entrance open!? Anyone could have come in! Any of Soundwaves cassettes would have a field day here! Your expression does not change under Red Alert's panic. "Babe, it's okay. We're sweeping the area. If there's something there, we'll find it. Just take a vent first. You'll do better finding anything if you don't blow a fuse."

Oh, that's rich! Red Alert turns towards you, fully ready to snap, but then his processor catches up to him. And his whole building panic crumbles at the very abrupt wall his logic center had just smacked into. "Babe?" Red Alert can't not ask because what did you just call him?

You met his gaze and smiled gently. "Yes, babe, you'll do better finding any breaches if you calm down first." And something warm makes Red Alert jolt backwards, and what was that? That's your em field! Your em field was touching him! Your actions are so completely out of left field that his processor struggles to catch up to himself.

Red Alert doesn't know how he's supposed to compartmentalize your new actions! You were already in his business before- now your em field is petting him! It makes Red Alert jump, and he needs you to stop greeting him that way! He couldn't focus on keeping you all safe from the Decepticons if his processor lagged after every interaction with you! Red Alert did not want to be distracted when you called him "pet names" while he was trying to calculate the odds of The Ark exploding! (Red Alert didn't care if Inferno liked it. He's putting Inferno between the both of you then!)

As much as he loathed to admit it, your em field did seem to have a sort of grounding effect on his processor. It would pull him back to wherever he was and make it easier for him to focus on the twenty problems that actually needed to be rectified immediately. And that let him put the thirty would be problems away for later in his processor. Red Alert needed to deal with the now problems because the longer he was standing here being pet by your em field. The less time he had for those twenty current security breaches! He's leaving right now to close those breaches! Do not follow him he can't keep being distracted. No, you don't need to know why you're suddenly being requested to accompany Red Alert more often on shifts when you're available! It's a matter of Ark security.

-

"Wow now, careful mech." Beachcomber doesn't hesitate to grab a portion of the stack of datapads that risked toppling right out of your servos. The load he takes makes you stand the way you were supposed to be. Instead of like you were about to take a mean tumble down right in front of him.

You huff and readjust the other half of the datapads he'd left you with. "Ah- Thanks angel, much appreciated." Angel? You smile at Beachcomber and- oh hello there? Your em field brushes very nice against Beachcombers arm. The plating there puffing and relaxing under the warm feel of it. And it makes the rest of him wanna slack at the touch.

So he does just that. Letting his plating loosen further then it already had been. Letting the bit of warmth you were offering him seep up against his struts. Beachcomber offers you an easy smile back. "Anytime mech."

Beachcomber basically thinks it's a one-time thing since he helped you out when you'd needed it. But he's pleasantly surprised when it's apparently your new earthly habit. Beachcomber is with it from the start. It's not like he's gotten any sweet words or sweet touches quite like yours in a long time. Beachcomber knows how probably fleeting your guys' shared time on this beautiful planet would be in the grand scheme of things. In the grand scheme of this war. So Beachcomber makes sure to enjoy the little quality moments you're oh so willing to provide and share with little ol' him.

You'll be seeing him more often after battles the longer you're still on earth. Casually greeting you for a smile, a name, and the touch of your em field. And Beachcomber will make a point to say it afterwards- But he's glad you stuck around when he lingered from the destruction left after the electrum incident. You didn't say much to each other, but you stayed with your em field resting against his frame like you were all but leaning against him. After that, Beachcomber tries to share the joy a bit back with you. A "babe" or "baby" when Beachcomber sees you and his em field brushing back against yours. Or even pushing out against your frame first if he spots you before you spot him. Beachcomber thinks you do plenty for them and him, so he thinks he should keep doing what he's doing for you.

-

"Thanks for the ride, baby." You pat Omega Supreme's armor after exiting the travel portion of his alt mode. Omega merely shuts his shuttle door closed with a click.

"... I am not a baby." Omega does not feel anger over the casual insult you'd abruptly called him. He is, however, confused considering the context.

"Ah- it's a pet name, love. I'm not insulting you, the opposite, actually." You lean against the shuttle portion of his alt mode. The back of your servo brushes against the shell of his armor. And what he lately registers as your em field, fans over what portions of his armor you can reach. Omega's plating twitches over the warmth that drags along it, and he has to dismiss the immediate urge to lean away. Firstly, because you were not in any way a threat to Omega. Secondly, because he was in his alt mode and he would not be able to do that without shifting into root mode.

Omega Supreme feels- he's not sure what he feels, but he is aware he feels... something. Which considering his past and the unconsensual modification done to his personality module, he's surprised whatever he feels about it is as... solid as it is. No Omega was not completely void of emotion, far from it. Rather, some emotional outputs were now much less common in his frame than... others. And the soft but still present warmth he would feel when you would interact with him in this manner- was not one Omega had felt since before the modification.

Omega Supreme has the very strong urge to evacuate the area when you begin acting the way that causes it. His plating wanting to shift as if his own frame were... uncomfortable. He does not flee, however. You still were not a legitimate threat to him in any way. The longer you persist in your actions, the longer the warmth is no longer as... unpleasant as before. Omega allows the affections, but he does not allow himself to fall victim to the comforted urge to also relax around it. Omega would not allow himself to be harmed twice over. (He, however, finds himself keeping an optic out for your frame on the battlefield. Because it will not happen again. Omega will not allow it to.)

-

"Read 'em and weep, sugar." You drop your full house of metal made cards on the table in front of Smokescreeen, and he clicks his glossia at the sight. He doesn't let his foul mood linger for more than a nano-klick on his faceplate though. He wanted to see how you were settling in on the planet after all. He couldn't scare you away with a negative mood. Smokescreen slides you the polish he'd been betting across the table towards you. Preparing to congratulate you with a well worded compliment.

Only Smokescreen stops when he actually comprehends what you'd just said. Your servo reaches out to meet him halfway, and you lean forward. "What's the matter, Doll? Cybercat, got your glossia?" Your em field brushes warm across the Autobot symbol on his chassis, and he jerks back a touch. You only laugh and lean back in your chair, your new prize in your hold. While Smokescreen's processor runs a mile a klick and his door wings twitch.

Smokescreen takes it as a challenge. And it may very well be the hardest social challenge he's ever taken. But Smokescreen took his position in the Autobot's seriously. He wouldn't let himself get out charmed in a social setting without putting up a proper fight. So Smokescreen meets every little smile and name. He even tries to brush his em field against yours. The act actually made you pause for a moment in surprise. But then you smiled, and your em field pushed back and practically ran over Smokescreen with completely unrestrained affection so thick- he had to make a poor excuse and run before he would admit defeat!

Smokescreen was no youngling or stranger to these types of acts, but the genuine flavor of your actions was almost too much for Smokescreen to handle. He can handle the smiles they were easy- he could meet them. The sweet sound of the words you'd readily call him were harder, but he could keep up! He just couldn't handle your em field yet- but he would learn how to! It was a previously considered inappropriate aspect of social interaction Smokescreen hadn't even considered deploying like this. The results were definitely more than effective. Smokescreen knew just how you made him feel. Not even mentioning how the other Autobots seemed to hum under your attention. Smokescreen was a few vorns behind you, but he would manage to out charm you, just you wait!

It only fills him with deep sadness whenever he thinks of his home planet—destroyed by its own people. Nothing but pointless fighting, extinguishing millions of sparks. So much out there, so much beauty, so much to explore, and yet his fellow Cybertronians fail to see it. The Decepticons fail to see it. Well, maybe they did. Who wouldn't?

His optics gaze far into the distance. Just look at this view. The sun setting, the waves dancing, and the sky painted in a beautiful gradient of unique colors to Cybertron. The sand beneath him is as cheeky as ever, rough yet harmless against his frame.

Truly, he wishes his friends were here to experience it. If only.

A few chirps snap Beachcomber out of his trance. He hums and tilts his head to his feathery companion, who shifts uneasily on his shoulder. "Pardon? Can you say that again, my dear?"

"A human," murmurs the green bird, its tweets and twitches translated by the bot's processor. "Human here!"

Beachcomber is confused, and understandably so. Yet the more he watches his friend, restless, the more his doubt begins to cease. Humans have rarely ventured this far from their civilization, and he has made sure they would never bear the burden of knowing he exists. Put simply, a human wandering around this area sounds impossible.

"By the by," he says with a sigh, "are you pulling my leg? I thought we stopped with the antics—"

The bird shakes its head. "No! No, Beachcomber! Human here!"

A sense of urgency finally washes over the bot, so he stands to his full height, his shadow from the sunset looming and stretching through the sandy ground until—

Beachcomber stares at the human in silence. Form coated by his shadow, their own is not even half the size of his. Their widened eyes, he could tell, were filled with so much fear.

An entirely different species—yet an emotion he is no stranger to, a memory he does not want to keep reliving. Nonetheless, he continues to observe with false composure. The human remains still, frozen in disbelief.

He can feel the fidgeting claws of his small friend. Beachcomber can feel his servos fidgeting.

Truth be told, he has never interacted with a human. His experience is limited to watching them from a distance, unreachable beyond their sight. Now, with one standing before him, he does not know what to do. He does not know how to act.

Despite his time here, to think that silence would be his first impression of the savviest beings to walk this planet.

The human exhales. Just as Beachcomber is about to speak, they beat him to it.

"You're ugly," they blurt out, their lips pressing together in immediate horror at their own words.

Beachcomber pauses. That's a rather odd response to their fear. And, mind you, this is his first radio with a human.

So, he chuckles, fully accepting your words. "And you're beautiful."

Just like that, with the utter gentleness of his voice and his choice of words, he smiles at the human, watching as they begin to loosen up, if only slightly.

i actually did think he was ugly the first time i saw him 🥲 he still is tho but thats how i see all of my pookies

He hurries back and drops to his knees before you. You slowly, but surely raise up with a yawn so you can view his find properly. You gaze up at him, he's smiling so brightly, you'd think this is the happiest he's ever been in his entire life... Well, other than when he met you and whenever you two cuddle. He enthusiastically offers you his discovery, a.. wow, an absolutely stunning scallop shell! It's massive, it's as big as one of your hands... Actually, it's a bit bigger! And it's in perfect condition, too! It's pearlish gleam almost gives it a sort of mythical look.

You gasp dramatically as you gently pick up the shell and admire it, then as a token of your appreciation, you kiss each one of Beachcomber's knuckles, causing him to purr and puff out hot steam from his vents. "What a lucky find, amazing work honeybun!~ Good boy, such a good scout!" You praise, making him to sink in on himself, he bashfully hides his face with his hands as he looks away with a content little grin gracing his features. "It wasn't so much scouting as it was luck.. No need to praise me..." He mumbles shyly, but you know good and well he wants more.