#deadlock x reader

• Hadn’t expected the way it let his mind wander as his hands move. Hadn’t really thought his hands could move like this. Weaving strands of yarn together over and over. There’s something oddly relaxing about the movements. In letting his thoughts drift. Creating something instead of destroying. Still feels like something like this isn’t allowed. Not for mechs like him. But he keeps thinking of you as he works. Remembering that you’re always cold. The pattern isn’t quite what he’d imagined. It had become a messy chaos of white bleeding into red and gray. Frowning as he keeps looping the thick cables of soft material, he knows it’s not good enough. That it’s imperfect. But then, so is he. And you seem to like him.

• Imagines draping this across your shoulders. Something he made for you. Not a real conjunx gift, but something of him for you. Servos brushing the soft material, he can’t deny that he likes the idea of you wearing his colors. Wrapped up in something made by his hands. Clearing his vents, he finishes the last edge and gathers the blanket. It seems so small in his hands, but it’s bigger than you are. Probably too big. Staring at it, he glances at his habsuite door. Wondering what you’ll say. If you’ll smile.

• Sitting on your cart, you’re about to go hunt him down when he finally steps into the wash stall. And his expression is surlier than normal, plating slightly lifted like he’s annoyed about something as he rumbles. Refusing to meet your eyes when he strides over. “Is something wrong?” You ask, wondering if you offended him somehow. Maybe he’s still annoyed that you’d tried to teach him to knit as an outlet for that restless energy? Watching him crouch, he holds out something and you lean to take it, fingers sinking into the soft material. “You kept at it?” Hadn’t expected that. Smoothing your fingers over the mottled colors, you spread it out slightly. Realizing he’d made a blanket. A huge one.

• That scent of yours is almost addictive as you make a low noise, hips rocking against his hand. Spike aching to release, his mouth slides against your jaw. You deserve better than this, better than him and to be claimed in a wash stall. Knows it, but he can’t seem to stop himself, either. Growling as you shiver against him, hips tilting against his palm as your hands cling to his arm, your body goes taut for a klik, your breathing ragged as you squeeze his servo. Setting you on your feet, you’re wobbly and flustered as you look up at him. Meeting his optics as he lifts his hand and his glossa slides against his slick servos.

• Your knees almost buckle when his servos go in his mouth and those intense optics hold your stare as he sucks them clean. Stumbling back when he drops to his knees and drags you closer, his mouth brushes your lower belly. You’ve still got your coveralls hooked around your ankles, unable to get the leg over your boots as he palms your butt. Shuddering when he puts his mouth on you, you grab at his helm, leaning sideways to try and fumble the laces loose on your boots. Wanting the damn things off right now. “Wait and I can-” You begin, but he snarls against you, mouth sealing against you as his glossa strokes you.

• You say word he doesn’t know as his hands cup your butt, holding you where he wants you as he tastes you. And you’re no longer fighting with your foot covering as you tremble in his grip. But your coverings are in the way. Keeping him from getting the access and angle he wants. Growling as he hooks a servo in your covering and tugs, you squirm, foot sliding against his chassis until the foot covering finally falls off and your leg is free. Lifting it to hook over his shoulder, you whimper his name and his glossa tunnels inside you as you tremble and his spike aches.

• Finally! Hanging onto him as you moan and tilt your hips, his servos are almost bruising on your butt and hips as his glossa strokes deep. Shivering and almost coming apart when he snarls against you, your grip on his finials tightens when he pulls away. Because you’re so close and he’s stopping. He’s still on his knees as he lowers you and you feel his spike release and pressurize against your inner thigh. Catch a glimpse of the hard length of him, his biolights, before he’s stretching you. You have the thought that you should be worried about his casual strength and how easily he’s manhandling you, but you just gasp his name as he fills you and begins moving you on his spike with a possessive growl.

The Doorman

Doorman: I find myself becoming fond of you. That's dangerous. You: (chuckles) Why? Doorman: I may…have to keep you inside the Baroness. You: Not my idea of a first date but…I'll allow it. Doorman: Delightful with a poor sense of judgement. You are enticing. ////

You:…… Doorman: Is there something wrong? You: Hm? Doorman: You keep staring at me. You: It's your eyes. Doorman: My…eyes? You: They're bright and blue and just so…mesmerizing. Doorman: Bright you say?...Interesting. You: Was that rude? Doorman: No. I'm becoming quite fond of your odd compliments.

(I think that the brightness of The Doorman's eyes isn't really visible to most even other supernatural beings, so he's genuinely shocked that Reader sees it.)

////

Doorman: It's quite a pleasant surprise to see you at the ritual. You: And it's quite a pleasant surprise to see you taking a break for once, I was about to alert a union for you. Doorman: I can assure you, I'm not being taken advantage of. But your concern is much appreciated. You: Someone's gotta look out for you. Doorman: (Smirks) I believe that would be my line.

////

Doorman: Darling… You: Dearie…did you like the flowers? Doorman: I adore all of your gifts of affection, however… You: Oh no… Doorman: I would much prefer it if you were the one delivering them. You:……People have been complaining about the pigeons, haven't they? Doorman: Quite.

Silver

Silver: There's a high price on your head, dollface, and don't think for a second you're gonna use the ritual as cover from me. You: Aww, and here I thought we'd patch things up just for the ritual. Silver: I never forget a slight. You: Really? You don't seem the type to a hold a grudge. Silver: Let me correct myself…I never forget a slight from you. ////

You: You're not still mad are you? Silver: That you tied me up with my own bolas? No, I'm pissed! You: In my defense, you made it very easy. I'm starting to think you like being tied up. Silver: After this ritual, I'm going to maul you and any animal that comes to help. You: If you can catch me.

////

You: I'm curious. How do you usually find me? Silver: Simple. I've got a really good nose so I just sniff out the coyote smell that's suspiciously close to a strip mall in Washington. You: Well that's not fair. Washington has a lot of coyotes…probably. Silver: Inside of a shoe store though? You:……I should invest in some cologne or perfume. Silver: Oh yeah, cause smelling like a lavender scented squirrel is a better idea.

////

Silver: So who was the loser I caught you with? You: Loser? Silver: Yeah, the sap that couldn't run from me fast enough when I found you. You: Aww, is the puppy jealous? Silver: Nope. They're not enough of your type for me to be jealous. You: Maybe I changed. Silver: You'd never settle for someone that couldn't keep up with you, dollface.

Mina

Mina: Your little animal friends keep growling at me. It's rude. You: Yeah, I don't if you remember but you're a walking corpse. It ain't natural as far as they're concerned. Mina: Well, tell them that if they growl again, I'll turn them into a coat. You: Mina, sweetie, try as you might, you couldn't even skin a fly…but I'll tell them to try and be a little nicer to you. ////

Mina: You know, you'd be much cuter if you didn't smell like you bathed with pigeons. You: Pigeons are actually the cleanest this side of the Mississippi. Definitely cleaner than prissy baby bats. Mina: (scoffs while blushing) You…annoy me. You: I'd annoy you less if you didn't try to be a smart ass every five seconds. //// You: I'm not gonna have to worry about some evil ex coming to hunt me down for flirting with you am I? Mina: (Rich girl laugh) Oh trust me, I'm not seeing anyone. You: And your parents? Someone like you doesn't get their snobbiness from nowhere. Mina: Even if my parents had a say, I'm the vampire and they're not. You: Yeah, that's all I needed to hear. ////

Mina: You know when I become the Viscount of New York, I'll be needing a companion. Maybe I can even share the dark gift with you. You: I mean, I'll be your companion but I like being able to walk in the sun. Besides, I think my patron would prefer if I stayed mortal. Mina: Hm. You'll change your mind once we're married. You: Once we're married? You're quite presumptuous, aren't you? Mina: When I want something, I take it. And I'll be making sure that you walk down the aisle.

The Drifter (Yandere tw)

Drifter: Well, well, do my eyes deceive me? Or is that my little red rabbit? You: (eye roll) Drifter: Come now. Don't act like you don't know me. I still see my teeth marks on your gullet. You: I shouldn't be surprised that a potential bloodbath summoned someone like you. Drifter: (Evil laugh, sniffs the air) You have new friends. You: I guess that's the only thing I can thank you for. Drifter: How many of them you think I gotta tear through to get to you again, red rabbit?

////

You: Why are you following my birds? Drifter: Cause I know they'll lead me back to you, red rabbit? You: And you want to find me because…. Drifter: I like looking at ya. You: Well that's…unfortunate to hear.

////

Drifter: You like my gift, cher? You: Did you just ask me if I liked the bloody earrings you left me? Drifter: It matched yo little birdie's coat. You: It still had an ear attached to it. Drifter: I ain't hearing no 'no'. //// Drifter: Don't worry, red rabbit, I'll make sure not a single hair on that head is harmed. You: By everyone else or by you? Drifter: (Evil laugh) You: Yeah that's what I figured.

Blackshadow

✦ ── He can be such an ass when it comes to affection. Constantly moving away from it, refusing to initiate it, arguing if you asked if he really just flinched when you went to kiss him.

✦ ── Loves you to the dead universe and back, really, but what if someone sees him bein' all soft with you? He would lose mad aura and take a hit to his reputation.

✦ ── But you better be at his side at all times. No seat next to his at the helm of a ship? A new one is installed soon after. Someone standing between the two of you? He barks an order their way so they scram.

✦ ── Blackshadow, the feared phase sixer with what is likely nearing a trillion deaths under his belt, has never been known to trust anyone. You? His right hand con? Nonsense! You just piss him off the least, is all...

✦ ── Refuses to share a habsuite with you because then it's 'too obvious' that you're a thing. Explain how you wake up to him cramming himself onto the tiny solo recharge slab with you, then? Is him entering your habsuite all the time not suspicious enough?

"You can't leave yet."

"Why not? You're leaving." You approached the door, only for his frame to block yours. He crossed his arms as if he needed to look any more intimidating than he already did.

"I am this ship's captain. I have to leave. Work to get done." The red glow of his optics brightened, snarling when you took a step closer in defiance.

"As do I!" Keeping your relationship hidden was not your idea, and it continued to prove an obstacle in your everyday life.

"If you leave right after me and someone notices, they'll think we're...you know." If his expression could be anything but cocky or serious, you imagined he'd look nervous right about now.

A drawn-out sigh escaped your lips.

"One minute. Go."

"Ten?"

"Just go!"

Deadlock

✦ ── He isn't exactly obedient, but he certainly doesn't break the rules all the time either. Deadlock's only aim is to win the war, by whatever means he deems appropriate. Often that means going behind Turmoil's back.

✦ ── But he had a much harder time going against you. So loyal to the cause, it was both a desirable trait that he loved in you and one that killed him a million times over.

✦ ── Because he couldn't say no to you. He may not be the kind of partner to hold your hand and whisper sweet nothings, but damn, he'd do anything you demanded of him.

✦ ── As far as he is concerned, every other con could curl up and die. The war could disappear without a trace, and he'd be happy so long as he had you and your sweet little demands.

✦ ── There are limits, of course. He will only act in ways that assure no harm comes to you, and his goal is furthered. But still, your ability to get Deadlock to bend to your whim is more than just impressive. It should be impossible.

"Turmoil told us not to leave this district."

You had grabbed Deadlock's wrist, who froze in place at your words.

"If these bots escape, they'll get backup. I need to end this now." He growled back at you, red eyes narrowed and bright. There was no real threat, even if he tried to make it seem so.

"We can't risk it. If you go, I'll go. Then we'll both be in trouble."

That seemed to snap him out of it. The con pulled his arm from your grip; this time it was his claws digging into your plating to drag you along with him.

"Next time you're staying on the ship."

Fort Max

✦ ── Fort Max is a bot of action and very few words. He does what needs to be done and keeps every reply as sufficient as he can manage. Unless, of course, he has a good comeback.

✦ ── It takes a lot for him to engage in any conversation beyond listening, even with those he considers close friends. He wasn't always like this, but it's who he is now, and it isn't important enough to fix.

✦ ── And yet, for some unknown reason, he has no fear of sharing with you. He greets you first, asks you about your day, and details his so long as you're willing to listen. You disarm him (verbally, at least) and make him comfortable enough to open up.

✦ ── It is slow to build up, but eventually he goes from a sentence to full speeches. The only thing that doesn't seem to change is exposure to others. The moment someone else is around, he stops talking immediately. He'll listen to you, but that is it.

✦ ── Combination of lack of trust for others and his desire only really applying to you. He wants you to know how he is doing, and he wants to know anything you'll tell him.

"Max?" Your utterance of the nickname gave him pause, realizing he'd been staring into space with a grumble.

"Are you giving me the silent treatment again?" You tilted your helm to get a better look at him, to which he looked away with a sigh. His eyes landed on the mech who'd just entered the room.

"No." Curt and precise, different from the Max you'd come to get especially close to. "Can we go someplace else?"

His frame relaxed when you nodded.

Ultra Magnus

✦ ── Precision. Perfection. Everything has a place and shall stay in that place. And he only allows for things with a clear purpose to remain in his office. That means nothing frivolous or extra.

✦ ── The slightest movement of one of his carefully measured and placed belongings will be met with strict punishment. Enough to keep plenty of the Lost Light crew from entering the office in the first place.

✦ ── You are the only person other than himself that he accounts for in his office. The casing of his pen is in your accent colour. The lounging chair in the corner is for you to sit on. The light is a shade that complements your main paint.

✦ ── Of course, you'll still get into shit for moving his stuff or trailing any dirt into his office. He'll handle the punishment personally, of course. No delegation needed.

✦ ── But he accounts for you. His office is one example, but it tells you that he considers you as a variable in everything he does. The smallest of details tailored to fit your needs, your presence a given when he considers seating charts at his lectures.

"And just where do you think you're going?" The deep hum of his voice was authoritative, though somehow less than it usually was.

"I was just thinking of leaving early. Maybe grab a drink at Swerve's." You made that up, really. You just wanted to test what would happen if you left without him.

"Not according to my schedule. Sit back down. We'll leave at 11:42 sharp."

"Yes, sir." And just like that, he was back to typing away on his datapad.

Vortex

✦ ── While Vortex may not be inherently affectionate or lovey-dovey, your relationship is no secret. He shows you off a lot, and he isn't afraid of claiming you to be his in front of others.

✦ ── The word is pride. Vortex doesn't care about his own reputation, or his fellow Combaticons' prestige, or anything really. Except for you. You are the best thing to happen to him, and he's vocal about it, too.

✦ ── You won't catch him holding your hand (often), but every single hour your designation slips out of his mouth smooth as butter.

✦ ── And if anyone speaks ill of you? They're probably dead! Yeah, it doesn't really matter what team they're on or how important they are; he is actually going to kill them. If Onslaught won't let him, then at the very least he'll leave them resembling a pile of scrap.

✦ ── It's stupid because the only person he hides that pride and display of love from is you. In private he'll be affectionate but constantly make fun of you, and then in public he's defending your honour while shying away from touch.

If you could melt away behind your servos right now, you would.

"I don't hear you calling them Conjunx." Skywarp and Vortex were having an argument, each attempting to rage bait the other.

"Not yet. Real love takes time, love, and care." Vortex spoke as if he were the most experienced Cybertronian on the topic, feigning his nonchalance.

When the seeker snickered at him, the smaller con reeled back a fist.

"No, Vortex!"