#cygate x reader

Imagine Cyclonus pinning your arms above your head, whispering sweet praises into your ear, pressing delicate kisses against your hands and arms as Tailgate pounds into you missionary style. Whimpering as he overloads in you, mumbling about how warm and tight you are, how perfectly you fit together.

You grumble as the two bots hastily switch places, Tailgate gently caressing your shoulders as Cyclonus spreads your legs.

His glossia is somehow both burning hot and freezing cold as he licks you up and down, his glossia dipping into your hole. 

Drift and Ratchet

You wake up, mind foggy, unable to have control over your body, not that you were even aware you had a body right now. Everything around you was overwhelming and weird. Weird just like the two big guys at your sides.

"Hello yn, how do you feel? You've been sleeping for the entire day." says the cat-looking rather handsome dude.

"Huh?"

"They're still under the effects of anesthesia, so don't be surprised if they are uncoordinated." says the big pretty orange one.

"Yooo, where is there? who the fuck are you, pretty boys?"

Drift hides his smile behind his servo, and Ratchet looks at your vitals, finding it funny your heartbeat sped up at the 'pretty boys'. Your weak organic EM field radiating confusion.

"How do you feel yn? Any discomfort?"

You look at Ratchet in the eyes, yours almost closed, maybe trying to decripte him.

"Discomfort?"

"Yes, are you comfortable?"

"YOOOO-"

"yn don't scream."

"Oh, you look comfortable. Both. Kitty kitty kitty pspsps~" you call Drift, extending your arms as if you were really trying to catch the bot's attention.

Drift tries to not loose it. He takes your so tiny hand in his servo, giggling. You look down to your hand and give him an horrendious look.

"Why you so big, kitty? Why do you have hands? We can't have cuddles sessions like that, you'll crush me".

"Don't worry *wheezes* we will have plenty when you're free to go, sweetspark".

"Nooooo, you're too tall, you'll crush me..." you start having tears in your eyes sobbing style, really sad to die crushed by the big cat you want to pet. "I want neow. Where's big boy? BIG BOY I WANT CUDDLE NEEOW!"

Drift hold his tank, laughing so hard he coughs while Ratchet tries to calm you down, dries your tears, asking you to remain calm, to not scream, that you will have your cuddles but not while you're still on the medbay's slab.

In the end, you won, both laying by your sides with their arms protecting you from the light, and you felt asleep again holding onto them like your life depends on it. They both knew you were having a very good sleep when drool came out of your mouth, babbling about your tall boyfriends transforming into a sandwich and leaving for the war. Ratchet had to silence Drift from laughing at your state for not risking waking you up.

Cyclonus and Tailgate

Emerging from the darkness of anesthesia, you saw two dots of colors. Not aware you were moving your arms, your left hand splats on the purple grey face in front of you and the blue one reach for your hand, trying to gently remove it.

"Oh, purple, my favorite color... pretty purple, pretty" you say as you pet not so elegantly.

Sharp but carefull digits come to take off your hand from his face plate, he helds it like a fragile treasure he found.

"Hello yn, are you feeling well?" says Cyclonus

"You're finally awake! I started to worry yn."

You just blankly stare at them, but not really at them, rather the void that is catching your attention. Big zoom out.

"Are we having Taco Bell? I want- I want a burrito with... oh my god..."

Cyclonus and Tailgate look at each other, not knowing what the hell you're talking about, but Ratchet did say you were gonna be weird for a moment.

"Purpuuuule, i love you, i looove you so muuuuchh purple!"

"Shush, yn, don't get too loud, lay back."

Tailgate gently makes you lay back on the slab and you finally notice his presence.

"Oh you're beautiful. Can we have Taco Bell later?"

"What is Taco Bell, sweetie?"

"Fast nom nom, duh."

Oh the attitude.

You close your eyes, going inconscious for a bit, then waking up again.

"I WILL NOT TOLERATE THAT BEHAVIOR!" you scream, imitating Ultra Magnus repressing Rodimus.

"SHUSH shhhh! Yn you can't scream like that, we're in the medbay!"

Tailgate put his servo on your mouth to muffle your screams. Loud stomps are heard before Ratchet comes in in a rush.

"Are they okay? What happened? Why did they scream like that?"

"No worries doctor, they are just... still out".

"They were just imitating Ultra Magnus, no worries."

Ratchet still check on them and their vitals, his presence seems to keep you calm. Once Ratchet left, you turn to look at Tailgate.

"Who's that?"

"It's Ratchet."

"He scary".

With Cyclonus lovingly rubbing his thumb over your tiny hand and Tailgate telling you about some adventures, you fell back asleep, leaning into the minibot's frame.

Ultra Magnus and Megatron

Waking up, blinking, looking around, and two massive forms appear in front of you, and you just stare.

"Hello yn. You're finally awake. How are you feeling."

You stare at the blue one, the one who talked.

"Who are you?"

"It's me, Ultra Magnus dear."

"Oh, oohh Ultra Magnus, you know, i've always admire you, you do such a beautiful work, you're so strict, i like that, thumb's up mate."

"And there's Megatron. We're here for you."

"Oh, Megatron... "

You sound disappointed, okay, no problem.

You do grabby hands at him, blank eyes demanding him. He leans in, carefull to not overwhelm you with his size. Your soft hands grab his cheeks and you tug on his helm, approaching him to your face until your two forhead are connected. You close your eyes, soaking in his presence. Megatron covers your little hands with his, big thumb gently rubbing your skin.

"Meggie... megsie-pie... you're a pie..."

"Heh, if it is to your liking."

"I have pies... my two pies... magnus apple pie... meggsie rhubarb pie..."

And without notice, you bite his nose. Magnus turns his helm to not show his smirk and Megatron just... accepts.

"Is it to your taste?"

"You're scrompulitiously delicious."

With great care, he marks you let go of his nose and gestures to Magnus to join him. They lay back on the slab, you kept on Megatron's chest. With precise patern on your back and the soft rumble of his internals, you mumble again about pastries and marmelades before drifting back to sleep.

Rodimus and Thunderclash

Opening your eyes was a heavy task. All the muscules in your body felt limp, your eyelids tired. There are two guys in front of you, and they seem to be into a conversation. you slide your hand on a bigger one, blue connected to a very big arm.

Thunderclash turns his helm towards you, feeling your little fingers move against his palm. Rodimus does the same, and both their expression relax.

"Hello yn, how are you feeling?"

Still unable to talk, too lost to even know where you are, their presence is somewhat calming. Rodimus brings his own servo to you and you take it, eyes closing and opening. Trusting them both.

A third guy enters, talk to your two mechs and takes a look at the machines you rely on. Then leaves.

Rodimus and Thunderclash have both their focus on you.

"Hey buddy, you took a good nap during surgery? I bet you did. Still sleepy aren't you?" softly says Rodimus.

"You did great. It was scary but you did it like a champ. You deserve a good rest and a little gift. You have been so brave" says Thunderclash before opening his subspace and pulling out a oh so tiny plushie and places it next to you. Rodimus pouts and rolls his optics, mumbling that Thunderclash was doing too much, but the bigger mech didn't mind, liking that Rodimus has that blue tint on his cheeks.

You see a plushie being brought to you and you take it slowly, not breaking eye contact with the kind big guy. You close your eyes and bring the warmer hand to your head, holding the plushie near your chest. You feel tired, but comfortable. You have two kind guys looking after you, taking care of you.

Rodimus caress your hair in a single pattern, spark softened by you. You were really scared to go through the surgery, asking him and Thunderclash to be by your side to prepare yourself for it. Trusting him.

Thunderclash falls deeper in love with you, just like that, your little hand holding onto him. Even if it seems you don't remember them now, too lost into the effects of anesthesia, you trust them. Your little heart knowing their love for you.

• Mortified as you stare at his mouth, a soft finger touching as he unconsciously irises it open for you. And that finger slides cautiously against the inside as you make a soft noise. “This won’t suddenly shut and take off my finger, right?” You ask and he huffs out a startled laugh, mouth slowly closing on your finger and sucking. Watches your pupils dilate, scent thickening until he can almost taste your need, and he rests his palms on your hips.

• Shivering, because his mouth is wet and warm and the suction makes your toes curl, you stare. Imagining him doing that to a nipple as you shift in his lap. You can think of a few other places you’d like him to do that and he lets go of your finger when you gently pull. Lifting up slightly to adjust in his lap and his visor brightens to let you know he’s realized you’re naked under the robe, that you’re slick already. Cupping his face in your hands, you press your mouth against his. He can’t really kiss with a mouth like that, without lips, but when your tongue darts inside to taste him, he sucks at it. Hips rocking against him, your breath catches when his plating shifts under you, spike pressurizing slowly inside you, stretching you.

• Groaning against your mouth as you begin to move against him, riding him, he presses his mouth against your neck, sucking to make you gasp and when he lifts his head with a faint pop, he vents in surprise at the little, red mark he left. His mark. And you arch, cupping his head, lifting up nearly off his spike. Guiding his mouth against your chest as you whimper his name.

Whirl

Whirl didn't ask anyone for help after you failed to report in, he just went straight out onto that battlefield and started looking, turning over corpses and desperately calling your name. Completely ignoring his own injuries, he'd responded to his teammates only to bark at them he didn't want repairs until you were found. No one could convince him to leave it to the more intact bots.

The little blip of flesh had stood out like a beacon amongst the metal, but far less than it should have thanks to your bleeding injuries. He'd nearly tripped reaching you, pulling you away from the bot you appeared to have killed with methods he'd taught you, and your tiny form had almost appeared too damaged to move at first. It was only when you'd been tenderly lifted into his claws that the rise and fall of your chest had become obvious.

Near to tears, he'd carried you back to the medics himself, begging you to keep breathing if you heard him. The mere possibility this could be it refused to compute. He hadn't had time to say goodbye, and even he had he didn't want to! You were one of the only good things to ever come his way, and losing you wasn't an option.

He'd refused medical care until you'd been stabilized, and even then hardly took care of himself as he kept vigil over you, refusing to believe you could possibly be safe. Neglecting his health seemed to be his penance, in his mind. Why should he be whole until you were?

First Aid

As a medic, he knew the kind of injuries a battle of this scale could inflict, and with you being so naturally small... He'd immediately rallied everyone capable to search for their beloved human. Personally leading the effort, he'd nearly lost his cool for the first time in his life, the calm facade cracking under the weight of his worry.

Nothing had improved when he'd found you. Curled beside the corpse of a bot you'd taken out with knowledge of Cybertronian weak points, as taught to you by him, you'd appeared lifeless at first glance. Upon catching the weakest hint of a pulse, he dove straight into life saving techniques, trying to stem your bleeding with whatever he had. It was only with the arrival of the other medics he'd been convinced to return to the ship. Inevitably they'd had to take over completely, as his trembling hands refused to allow him the dexterity he needed to patch your wounds.

The small failure haunted him as he awaited your recovery, most of all because he believed it had perhaps made things worse. What if you never gained full functionality due to his errors? Those minutes had been critical, and he'd failed you when you needed him most...

Few bots could make him do much of anything as he waited, for he fully lost faith in his abilities in the interim, watching you as you rested with the full belief it was his fault.

Cygate

Tailgate had been the first to notice your absence, but Cyclonus was no less calm when it had been confirmed. You'd been separated from them on the battlefield, and your failure to check in resulted in both tearing out into the wreckage to search for you. Not a stone remained unturned as they shouted your name repeatedly at the gloomy horizon.

With his experience, Cyclonus spotted you first, but it was Tailgate who was entrusted to lift you from beside the enemy you'd vanquished with the weapons they'd given you. As the little mech started to weep, he'd confirmed to Cyclonus that you were in fact breathing, and the bigger bot had wordlessly transformed to take you both back to the ship at full speed. Their own injuries would have been irrelevant to them even if they had required attention, for they begged every available medic to save you.

In the hours before they knew you'd live, the two had held each other in private, existing in a fog of potential grief until they got the news. While it was a relief, the sight of you so mangled was like a blade to the spark. Had you not been separated, perhaps they could have saved you from this pain? Tailgate blamed himself for losing sight of you, while Cyclonus tore at himself for ever allowing you onto the battlefield at all.

This was beyond humiliating. Cyclonus sat at the edge of his own berth, long metal cables wrapped snugly around his form. Trailing down his thighs and up around his chastis, pulling his servos behind his wings and ending in a tight knot. His modesty plate retracted with a soft hiss as his spike pressurized, red biolights pulsing along the length of his shaft as his empty valve tightened around itself. How did you manage to talk him into this? He wondered as he watched Tailgate pull himself up onto his own berth parallel to Cyclonus’.

Tailgate’s spike was already pressurized and his valve was dripping with lubricant, just the sight of the minibot seemed to make every wire in his circuitry ache with desire. Tailgate let out a slight gasp when you climbed up after him, his clear blue visor wide with excitement. His optics trailed over your body as you looked to Cyclonus, he looked so pretty like this, all tied up and desperate. And to think you hadn’t even started yet. Turning back to Tailgate as you straddled his hips, his spike pulsing against your stomach.

“Please..” Tailgate whimpered as you raised yourself up on your knees and lined your cunt up with his spike. The tip of his spike slipping in as you lowered yourself agonizingly slow, Cyclonus’ own spike twitched at the sight, desperate for some kind of stimulation. His vents cleared suddenly at the sound of Tailgate’s moans and pleas, Tailgate could barely keep his hands to himself as you slowly sank down until his spike was fully encased in your sweet heat.

Tailgate settled his servos on your hips, his digits curling and squeezing the flesh slightly. You sat there for a moment, allowing yourself to adjust to the sweet burning sensation of his spike.

You glanced at Cyclonus for a moment, his deep red optics fixated on where yours and Tailgate’s hips met. Normally his piercing gaze would make you nervous and want to shy away, to hide yourself from the sheer embarrassment of having an alien stare at your naked body. But something about the desperation in his optics sent a wave of jittery confidence through you, he almost seems willing to beg to be touched, but who he wants to be touched by isn’t clear.

Your train of thought is suddenly interrupted by Tailgate’s hips grinding up against your core as he whimpered pleas for you to move. You decided to indulge him, if only to give you an excuse to break the soul piercing eye contact with Cyclonus. You lift your hips slightly and start to sink up and down, you start slow but as the burning of his spike stretching you fades you grow bolder. You start to quicken your pace, every roll of your hips enticing those delicious moans from Tailgate as he allows his helm to fall back against his berth with a light thump.

The other berth creaks as Cyclonus leans forward to watch the scene before him intently, his wings flutter as he clears his vents once more, he can feel the plating of his face getting warmer, his biologists flaring brightly as his spike aches with need, a need for Tailgate, a need for you.

Tailgate’s grip on your hips tightens slightly, his hips bucking into your core as he begs for more. You oblige his request and pick up a steady pace that makes his back arch. His audial receptors focused on the lovely sound of metal meeting flesh as you ride him, he leans forward slightly to watch his thrusts ripple across your thighs every time your hips meet, the sweet slick feeling of you wrapped so perfectly around his spike, it's too good.

Tailgate groans as he feels that familiar growing sensation throughout his circuitry, he's so close, he wants to overload inside you so badly, to try to spark you, to watch Cyclonus try to spark you. His helm falls back to the berth and his rhythm starts to become erratic as he feels you tighten around him. Tailgate’s servos tighten around you as he moves you up and down on his spike, pulling groans out of you as his spike rubs every spot within you perfectly.

It's not long before Tailgate completely loses his rhythm and overloads deep inside you, the delicious burning feeling of his hot transfluid filling your abdomen and leaking out onto where your hips meet. Tailgate clears his vents as he sits up once more, you mumble softly as you grind your hips against him, “Don’t leave me on the edge…” you say as Tailgate lifts you from his spike, his transfluid leaking out of you.

You glance over at Cyclonus, who is still watching you and Tailgate intently. There are scratch marks from where his sharp digits were gripping his berth. Before you can open your mouth to tease him about it the smaller bot guides your hips forward as he retracts his mask to reveal his intake.

His intake was a plain hole beneath his mask, the inside of his intake is lined with a silicone like padding that glistened with intake fluids. Tailgate’s intake darted forward and suctioned onto your clit, pulling moans from you as he moved his servos from the flesh on your hips down between your legs. His digits moved to part open your folds, his own release dripping down his servo as he slid a digit into you.

Your head falls back slightly as Tailgate draws shaky breaths from your lips, your head turns at the sound of a groan. Cyclonus has always been good at hiding his true feelings, but his mask is starting to slip. His intake was parted with his denta barred  as he huffed out his vents, his biolights along his body seemed almost blinding.

Tailgate turned your attention back to him as he sucked harder as he curled his digits inside your warmth at just the right pace, it washed over you like a wave of ecstasy. You gripped the top of Tailgate’s helm to steady yourself as you came down from your high.

Your mind felt fuzzy and warped but clear all at once, you felt Tailgate’s servos grip your hips as he lowered you down onto his lap. Tailgate sits up to cradle you against his chastis as he turns to look at his conjinx, you hear him stifle a soft gasp and you turn your head towards Cyclonus.

What you saw was more beautiful than you could have ever imagined, Cyclonus’ helm tipped forward as he deactivated his optics, his spike was still erect but covered in his own overload. His fluids dripped from his chastis down to his thighs and onto the floor below him as he cleared his vent sharply, the hot air steaming from his vents.

Cyclonus reactivated his optics to see you and Tailgate smiling at him as you were tangled in each other's embrace, both your thighs slick with a mix of your releases.