#blitzwing x reader

• You’re staring at him as he shudders, scrabbling for control. Can feel you staring. Judging. And he’s furious at you for seeing him like this. Wants to make it a joke. Ignore it. Lash out. “Were you always like this?” You ask softly and his jaw clenches, feeling himself spiral. Do you really think you mean anything to him? You were an experience. A reward. A pretty, little distraction. You’re his. Doesn’t want to talk to you. To understand you or for you to understand him. To know you any deeper than the feel of your body under his. “Blitzy?” Servos denting the metal of his berth, a growl rumbles through him at your audacity. That you think you can give him a nickname. The nearly hysterical giggle of delight at being called Blitzy that escapes him just annoys him even more.

• “Be silent or I’ll silence you,” he snarls, but the hostility is ruined when he cackles out “Blitzy.” Sitting crosslegged on his berth, you wad up the empty pretzel packet. Giving up on escape until you can figure out a way down that doesn’t involve broken bones and a possible concussion. One of his wings scrapes against the berth as he draws his legs up, curling slightly and the vulnerability of that pose prickles through you. Know you should stay silent. That he’s a feral dog that’s going to bite you.

• “Sometimes talking about stuff helps,” you say and he shoves upright, head turning to glare at you as his precarious control frays. Why won’t you stop? ‘Talking?’ He growls, personalities swapping. ‘Or we could sing a song!’ And he’s lunging for you as your eyes widen and you scramble to your feet. Angry, lonely, delighted by the fear in your eyes as he mass shifts and hauls himself up with you. Stalking you as you back away and the chaos grows. Anger and arousal twisting together. Confusing him on what he wants.

• Back hitting the wall as he snarls, big denta bared and expression furious, you reach without thinking. Aware that he’s dangerous. Out of control and violent. And maybe as frightened as you are. He’s still so much bigger than you are even in this smaller form. Huge really. Heart racing as he snarls, you hug him and you feel his plating lift slightly against you. Before a huge fist slams against the wall as you hide your face against him. Flinching when he smacks his head against the wall beside your shoulder, he’s trembling again. Snarling and wheezing out laughter. So broken and angry. Hands sliding against his sides as you tremble, he smacks his head against the wall again. But he’s not hurting you. Those big hands aren’t touching you at all. Taking out his fury on his room instead of you.

You toss him a chunk of metal, “ok, I have to go out into the city. You can use that to sculpt or something.” You inform him. Vrrch “why?” Blue asks. “Errands, stay out of sight and don’t break anything, ok?” He nods in response and you leave. The city is dirty as always, robots everywhere. Why can’t Sumdac just make litter-cleaner bots? You just need to get food and head back, no need to linger. Suddenly there’s a loud crash. There’s the Autobots, noticeably smaller than Blitzwing, fighting a child on a… unicorn? No wonder you don’t stay in the city long, this place is a madhouse.

You buy the things you need and hurriedly try to get away from the commotion. You get back to the scrapyard, and blitzing’s still there. He softly sets down what used to be the chunk of metal, now a spider, in front of you. “Oh, a spider, do you like spiders?” You pick up the metal sculpture. “No, quite the opposite in fact.” He responds coldly. “Why?” “Something that happened a long time ago.” Vrrch. “But enough about that! welcome back, we missed you!” Black interjects, nudging his faceplate against you. 

You scratch the welding behind his helm and ask. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask, what’s the deal with you guys peeking into my house?” His jagged smile widens, “We like you, dummerchen. We are curious about the things you do.” His faceplates switch, roughly scraping your fingers. “What he means to say is-“ blue cuts himself off as he sees you yank your hand back. “Did I hurt you?” He asks, there’s a hint of softness beneath his usual monotone tone. “A bit, I think my hand got bashed by your upper chin guard.” 

Your hand looks fine, it’s just a bit red and sore. “My apologies, schatz. I wasn’t thinking…” he replied softly, gently taking your hand and inspecting it for himself. His servo is freezing, it feels kind of soothing against your sore hand. He looks genuinely remorseful. “Hey, it’s ok, it was an accident.” You reassure him. “You’re much too forgiving, I hurt you, I should’ve been more careful, you’re too fragile for me to be reckless.” He argues. “I’m ok, promise.” You pat his cheek. You smirk, “I guess you really do like me, huh?” You tease. Vrrch. “Don’t be stupid! You’re just so weak and fragile that we have to be gentle with you.” Red growls. Despite his harsh tone, he scooches in closer, his fingers gently moving to your back. “You’d tell us if we ever hurt you, right?” He asks quietly. You nod and he backs off slightly.

You’re suddenly hit with an idea. “Give me a moment, I’ll be right back.” You tell him, running inside. You come back out with a projector, a large white screen, and some blankets and pillows. Blitzwing, who’s now blue, helps you hang it up, asking, “So, what’s this for?” You grin at him, “movies, since we’re friends and all.” You get comfortable, searching for a movie. Blitzwing rests his head down next to you, watching the screen as you look for a movie. “Have you ever watched a human movie?” You ask him. “No.” He replies quietly. You pick a movie. He scooches closer, his chin resting on one of the blankets. You pat his cheek. “Sorry I don’t have one for you, big guy.”

You two watch the movie, he remains very still and quiet. During a funny part of the movie, Blitzwing’s mouth stretches into an almost grimace, and a very dry “hah” escapes his mouth. You blink at him. “What was that?” You glance over, his mouth back to his regular resting face. “Hm? It was funny.” Blue responds. “Was… that was a smile?” You ask. He pauses, “… yes? … did I do it wrong?” You pat his cheek. “It… uhm… just caught me off guard.” You smile at him, finding it very endearing.

You remove your hand from his cheek and return your attention to the movie. Vrrch. Black starts nudging his faceplate against your side. You sigh and return your hand to his cheek. “You’re so needy, y’know that?” He just snickers in response. He turns his attention back to the movie, his servo gently resting on you, over your blanket. You continue absentmindedly stroking his cheek. He suddenly squints at the screen. “That’s weird, what are they doing?” You notice it’s a kissing scene. “Oh, you don’t know what kissing is?” Vrrrch. “It looks strange… why are they doing that? What’s its purpose?” You pause, unsure how to go about explain kissing to a giant alien robot. “Well, when humans really like eachother they put their mouths together like that in a kiss.” You explain, not wanting to linger on this topic for long. “Huh… interesting… you humans have such odd customs.” Vrrch. “So it’s affection?” You nod. “Yeah, why do you as-“ before you could finish, Blitzwing presses his faceplate against your lips, this faceplate doesn’t even have lips, just the toothy grin. He pulls back. “Did I do it right?” He asks, his smile wider than usual. “I-I think you misunderstood me… it’s a romantic gesture.” You gently correct him. His face plates spin a while before eventually landing on blue, though his cheeks look brighter than usual. “Our apologies, we… we didn’t realize… I would’ve stopped him if…” he mutters. “It’s ok, just a simple misunderstanding, I’m not mad, I should’ve been more clear.” 

The next morning, Blitzwing is nowhere to be found in the scrap yard. You head outside to work. Usually it can be pretty boring, but you welcome a boring day after having a Decepticon lurking around. Suddenly you hear a crash, you rush towards the noise, seeing Blitzwing laying on the ground face down. He looks beaten up. You cautiously approach, suddenly one of his servos slams down in front of you, he growls “Don’t even think about it.” You quickly back up. “What happened?” You ask cautiously. Vrrch. The blue face looks up at you. “I don’t see how that’s any of your concern…” “well, you’re hurt on my property, why?” You continue. After a pause he answers, “It’s safe.” You nod, unsure what to do. You want to help, weld him, something. “Can I come closer?” Vrrrch “Why!?” Red snaps. “I can’t exactly help without getting closer.” You explain. He pauses, “Fine…” you approach and he shifts, making his injuries more visible. He’s covered in dirt and debris as well. “I’ll be right back, I need to grab my tools… and a hose.”

You come back and start welding the gashes, Blitzwing’s frame is tense and hot. He doesn’t switch at all during the process, Red fronting the whole time. After a while you’re done. “There, any better?” You ask. He nods, shifting slightly, he’s oddly quiet now, not something you’d expect from the more aggressive alter. “You’re still pretty dirty, do you mind being hosed?” Blitzwing grumbles, “If you must.” You turn on the hose, cold water hitting him. His frame immediately relaxes. “You like that?” You snicker. “Shut up.” He growls, but it’s gentler than before.

After a while of hosing he’s finally clean. “Now do you want to tell me what happened?” You press. Vrrrch. “Fine, Megatron, my… boss, has deemed that I have been trouble, resulting in a punishment.” Blue answers coldly. “Well, that’s not right.” You respond, cleaning up your tools. “What do you mean? I was trouble, I misbehaved.” He asks. “No, you don’t deserve to be beat by your boss for ‘misbehaving’” you respond sternly. He stops talking, seemingly lost in thought. “you alright, big guy?” You ask him, patting his leg. He looks down at you. Vrrrch. Black lightly taps the top of your head with one of his fingers, giggling. “Yep! I’m great!” Vrrch. “You’ve just given me a lot to think about…” Blue adds.

He leaves, leaving you alone in the scrapyard, cleaning and patching him up took pretty much all day, so you head inside to relax and take a break. You take a shower and head to bed. You hear something in the scrapyard, you peek out your window, it’s just Blitzwing sneaking back in. You see him lay down on the ground instead of transforming into a tank like he usually does. You go back to bed and eventually fall asleep.

Early in the morning you wake up to the feeling of warm metal against your body. You open your eyes and realize you’re outside… with Blitzwing. He has you cupped in his servos, his cheek pressed against your body. It’s the hotheaded one. At least his heat is protecting you from the cold air. You put your hand on his face, surprised that it squishes slightly, almost like skin. He stirs, letting out a small half asleep grumble. You slip your hand in the gap between his helm and face, you can feel welding, you gently scratch it. Blitzwing’s engine loudly purrs. His optics open. “What are you doing?” He softly growls. “Uhm… petting you?” You say, surprised that your first reaction is to pet him. He grumbles, but his engine continues purring and he doesn’t move out of your reach.

• Optics shuttered, he listens to your soft noises. Trying to compartmentalize his thoughts and emotions. To find some semblance of balance and control. And knowing he won’t. The procedure that made him a triple changer broke him, shattered his psyche. It’s a strange thing, to be aware that’s he’s insane. Reaching up, he stares at his own hand, feeling the other two just there. Him, but not. His own body alien to him sometimes. They’re whispering to him even though he doesn’t want them, always whispering. “I wouldn’t,” he says, head turning and you freeze at the edge of desk. I would, whispers through him. Grimacing he drapes his arm across his face.

• Heart racing, you reach for another pretzel with trembling fingers and eat it. He hasn’t swapped, the indifferent, cold one staying in control. That one, you might be able to reason with. The other two personalities? Not so much. “What is it you want from me?” See his lip curl, but he’s silent aside from a low rumble. What would that be like? To be that broken? Or is he? Maybe this is just how he is. He seems pretty frustrated, though. Almost like he’s fighting with himself at times. ‘I want nothing from you, human,’ he mutters. But if that was true why keep you?

• “Are you okay?” Head turning to glare at you, that fast, he’s lost control. ‘What do you care?’ He snarls, another personality seizing control. Shutting him out as anger flares through him. You don’t get to ask that. To pity him. Doesn’t need it or you. ‘You think we’re friends now? You’re nothing,’ he growls, shoving upright and something whispers through him at your expression. Guilt? Shuddering as his clawed servos gouge into the berth, the other one slips in. ‘Mad, mad. Mad as a hatter,’ he cackles and he doesn’t even understand the words. ‘Friends with benefits.’

• And he’s just laughing hysterically as you make a face at him. “Never mind,” you mutter, walking over and wrestling a bottle of water loose from the broken vending machine. ‘Are you going to fix me?’ He croons between fits of laughter and you scowl, goosebumps lifting over your arms when you look over and see his face switching over and over, his expression almost tormented. No. You’re absolutely not going to feel sorry for this kidnapping lunatic. He’s not some lost puppy, he’s a giant, psychotic killing machine. Flinching when he slams a fist against the berth before rolling over, back to you, you blow out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Sitting down crosslegged, you twist the cap off the water. “Why did you take me?” You ask almost against your will. ‘Was bored,’ he snarls, while frame shuddering as metal scrapes against metal. Bored or lonely? Doubt even he knows which, though.