#mixmaster x reader

• Rumbling, Bonecrusher bends and you make a startled noise when he grabs you by the back of your covering and your little feet leave the ground. Lifting you up as you drop the box you were carrying and the contents go everywhere. Leaning down, he vents to pull your scent deep. Checking for the smell of other Cybertronians before he starts walking since he’s had to release two other claimed humans. “Sir?!” You yelp, legs kicking as you frantically reach up to grab at his servos. “Please, put me down, sir!”

• Dammit. Swinging slightly to make you realize that you apparently have a hitherto unknown issue with heights, you yell at other staff the giant strides past. And get sympathetic looks, but no one says a word. Because really? If one of the Cybertronians decide to yoink someone, there’s not a lot that anyone can do to stop them. You’re pretty sure if it comes down to your wellbeing or having an incident that might level a city, that no one’s going to protest you disappearing. What’s he even want with you? Is he going to squish you? You’ve heard some of them calling humans squishies. “Help!”

• Clearing his vents as you yell, he carries you to the area that’s been allotted to him and his fellow Constructicons. Who turn to stare as you scream for help, still kicking as your field shrieks to broadcast your terror. Skittish little thing, but he gets it. You’re tiny and they’re not. “Found one,” he growls, lifting you higher as you claw at his servos. Decided they’ve been neglected because maybe your kind are intimidated that there’s six of them. That they’re a package deal. “Got us a little conjunx to bring our energon and wash us,” he adds as Scavenger just stares at him and Mixmaster starts laughing.

• What? Did you just get voluntold that you’re now a caretaker? Without the pay? “I’m not supposed to be here,” you try and they stare at you. ‘Are you courting a mech?’ The giant growls and your mouth opens and closes. Courting? Courting like… romantically? “No!” You blurt, horrified. How do they think that would even work? Why do they think you would? Nope. You have to be misunderstanding them, something getting lost in translation. ‘Then you’re ours now,’ he says. And that’s not how this works. At all. Can’t just kidnap you and tell you that you’re theirs. Except, you don’t know how to stop them as the one carrying you introduces himself and his buddies.

"Oh," you have a good laugh & supply your name in return they tell you theirs. Scrapper, Hook, Bonecrusher, Longhaul, Mixmaster & Scavenger. They still call you 5k though Unless it REALLY bothers you cause a nickname always sticks

Sooner or later you start looking forward to the daily interactions too. They'll converse with you the whole time you walk by now filling each second they see you with words. It's only a total of about 5 mins, but hey its a routine at this point! And makes all of you smile.

"Morning 5k!" "Morning Boss." You made your own nicknames for them... not nearly as clever as theirs but you have come to know Scrapper is their leader so you call him Boss just as the rest do. "Nice weather, heard there might be rain later though." "Yeah, best make sure you boys wrap up before then don't want to melt." You all have a good laugh before you turn the corner to disappear for the day.

(The rest of the nicknames are as follows: Mixit = Mixmaster, Digs = Scavenger, Stretch = Hook, Crush =Bonecrusher & Big Guy = Longhaul)

Eventually the boys will work up the courage to lean over the construction site fence to be a bit more personal. They feel like y'all have talked enough they can be a bit more casual/friendly with you. They might even poke your shoulder or compliment your hair if they see fit. Once again they want to be respectful, but also seeing you daily means they can tell if you got a hair cut or changed your appearance in some way. Also seeing you daily they have categorized you as an acquaintance.

"Ey, 5k got a hair cut," Hook called as he leaned over the fence to lightly ruffle your hair. "Big date?" "Naw, just needed a change." "Suits you," Longhaul spoke simply. "Thanks Big Guy." At this point you have paused on your walk. "How's the project going, Boss?" "Almost ready to wrap up." This makes you all pause, you'll miss this little routine. "Well, congrats," you finally say before you start walking, "another job well done. See you tomorrow."

As the project nears closer & closer to the end the constructiboys finally decide to take a chance & give you their individual comm-links. So you can text & call them if wanted. They make it clear its completely up to you & that its not like they expect anything, they just like this friendship & don't want to lose it once the job is over.

You take the slip of paper looking at all 6 codes. You'd have to download one of those apps that allows your phone to interact with Cybertronian comm-links. But you think maybe you would like a friendly group chat with the boys. Just something to keep up the daily banter you have fostered over the last few months.

After you weigh your options for a bit, your answer solidifies the day you walk by where they usually are & everything is cleaned up. The new building is fully erected & they are no where in sight. Obviously moved on to a new project. Something is missing, so you finally make the jump & download one of those apps to text them.

You: Hey its me. Nice work on the building, looks great. Missing y'all tho.

Scavenger: YOU TEXTED US!!!

Scrapper: Miss you too, no one walks by this new site we are scouting, awful lonely.

You: Damn, sounds depressing. What you building this time?

Scrapper: We are supposed to be building apartments.

You: Ah, make sure you make those bathrooms roomie, small bathrooms suck.

Bonecrusher: You got a small bathroom 5k? We can upgrade it for you.

You: Haha, okay sure lol.

Except they're not joking. They will always offer to fix things for you & if you truly asked them too they would at the drop of a hat.

Eventually you do take them up on the offer, but only after texting for a bit and them pestering you pleading with you to let them 'just take a look' at your leaky faucet. You're short on cash & they're willing to do it for free so you finally agree.

You highly doubt they would suddenly turn out to be serial killers now.

They show up as promise, punctual & mass displaced. They are very respectful of your space & don't touch anything unless invited to. But they definitely are taking mental notes on your style & preferences for future builds/fixes cause there will be more you have your own handyman crew now

"Is this book series any good?" "Yeah it's one of my favorites." "Maybe I'll have to pick it up, I'm always looking for new reading material." "Did you make this painting yourself?" "Yeah, did it at a freestyle public class hosted at the local art & pottery place. Have you figured out what's wrong with my faucet yet?" "Oh yeah, we fixed that like 30 minutes ago, the head was stripped, threw on a new one, no more drips." "Oh..."

Yeah they're good it gets to the point where if you haven't mentioned a fix in a while they'll text you begging asking for something to do. They'll change your light bulbs, smoke detector batteries, anything to see you again & prevent you from overworking yourself (in their eyes).

Don't be afraid to stick up for yourself a little & let them know you aren't completely helpless. Otherwise they will take over every household project that isn't clean chores for you. Don't get me wrong they are helpful for big tasks, but sometimes you need some independence. And they'll always respect when you tell them no & back off a little.

Summer & fall they are coming over to help with big yard projects & clean ups too. Raking leaves, planting gardens, mowing your lawn. In the winter they'll appear early before your commute to shovel & salt your driveway. Your car already cleaned off too unless you want to do that.

Eventually your neighbors start asking about them. Ask why they come by so often, if you're one of those people starting to date the aliens new Earth residents. Some ask if they can get some help from the boys too. The Boys will help your neighbors but not as much as you & not nearly as willingly. But once again they are always polite when they do help and even more polite when declining your neighbors.

But the neighbors questions got your brain thinking. Why are they doing all this for you & not your neighbors? Why do they come around so often? What is this? Cause at this point you guys trade compliments freely, even playfully flirt with each other at times. Seeing them brings you so much joy & clearly seeing you does the same for them.

You remember all the times they had said "that's what friends are for." And how respectful they were, never expecting anything but your time & conversation & they are always mindful of boundaries. Clearly none of you had thought about this as nothing more than a friendship, but the neighbors raised good points.

It had come up briefly once or twice the topic of relationships. You had questioned if any of them had someone at home partially out of guilt because of how much of their time you monopolized. Between work & you were they ever home? They had responded no, and said a reciprocating response along the lines of 'well you must be single too since no one besides them was there to make fixes'

Other than that they had made no moves & neither had you. But now that you were thinking about it deeper what was dating anyway? Just a label for a deep connection. A label for someone(s) because we support poly here that you trust deeply, can rely on, can share secrets & inside jokes with, and support each other. Was that not what you had with the constructicons? Maybe you should ask them out...

This thought sat at the back of your brain for the next couple visits from them. Analyzing your interactions & feelings with them. Studying their own. Maybe you were reading too much into your nosy neighbors. But also the friendly flirting was hitting a little too close to home.

"Careful 5k, if you slide around too much on my shoulder you'll end up sitting on my face." "Sorry, Stretch I'm just trying to get the right angle."

Oh yeah... you're starting to see what your neighbors meant. 6 hot mechs showing up, making flirty comments & doing hard labor for free... how had you been so blind?

When you finally FINALLY make a move it's so subtle & the boys are such dorks that it doesn't click for them.

"So what do you guys do for fun besides bother me?" "We have a local bar we go to on occasion." "We built a giant version of corn hole at our bunker." "I have a dig box & Mixmaster has a chemistry set we use sometimes." Why are they gonna make you be more direct?

"That's cool... would you maybe want to grab drinks together sometime?" OOOHHH That's when it clicks for them. They all look at you, their faces tinged with energon. The boys clear their vents & they are all suddenly looking at anything but you. "Oh yeah." "That sounds fun." "Sure." "I wouldn't say no." "Together? Why not?" "It be nice to do that with you."

They are so flustered but not in a bad way. They are just surprised that you thought of them like that. Surprised you would even think about courting construction class bots. You seemed so out of their league they had settled for friendship.

With a bit of poking from you they had agreed to meet you Friday & show you their favorite drinking spot before they took their leave for the day. Because they didn't want to fanboy over you asking them out in front of you.

Friday rolls around and they appear in pristine condition. Someone went to the car wash before showing up. They just wanted to look their best for your date. And they kindly escort you to the bar, gabbing it up on the way over, and making sure not to crowd/overwhelm you.

Once you reach the bar they explain that its a mostly Cybertronian joint (but humans are still welcome) and they'll have to un-mass displace. You shrug & agree to ride on their shoulders, creating a whole system so each one gets a turn with you through out the night.

Not much changes about the dynamic between y'all. The jokes still fly & they are still polite as ever. But the flirting is new & electric. The flirting isn't nearly as risqué as before, but somehow more meaningful.

"Is that a new top? Didn't see that one in the closet when we replaced the door." "Oh yeah, got a few of them last week figured I bust them out for the occasion." "Feel honored you'd do that." "It looks great on you." They are so cute

By the time the night is over the whole thing can be written off as a success & your interally reminiscing about how you met. This all happened because you walked by their construction site daily.

They mass displace to walk you home again & they make sure you actually make it up the steps & to your couch on your wobbly, drunken legs. They leave you there tucked in & Hook makes it a point to leave you a tall glass of water & asprin for morning. Before they leave though you start rambling.

"So how's this gonna work? Am I allowed to date all of you? Or would that be weird? Don't make me pick. You all are so great." They all chuckle to each other. "You can try to date all of us 5k but why don't we discuss official labels once you're sober, kay?"

"Kay." And with that you are out like a light, falling asleep. They all share another chuckle before leaving, making sure to lock the door behind them. You were quite the catch in their optics.

You hadn’t ever imagined yourself in a polyamorous relationship with any group of people when you were younger. Now, in a relationship with six Cybertronians, you couldn’t be further from the life you’d envisioned and you’d never been happier. As much as you’d never pictured yourself in such a relationship, it was even more confusing for the Constructicons. They’d always felt so complete as Devastator until they met you; a squishy, fragile human. They all felt it, even as Devastator, something was missing without you and so, they took a risk, approaching you in a group to ask you to join their relationship. Although you couldn’t physically merge with them, they felt whole again when you accepted.

Although the relationship certainly had its challenges, you and the bots found enjoyment in spending as much time as possible together, especially when showing one-another enjoyable pastimes from your respective planets; it was on one such day that led you all to the beach. You’d been laughing at the bots’ complaints about the sand and playing hide and seek among the rocks of the cliffside when a powerful earthquake occurred. Upon seeing the cliff above you start to crumble, Scrapper acted on impulse, pushing you into the safety of a nearby cave with such force you felt the bones in your arm snap. The bots froze, wishing that the sound of crashing rocks could’ve blocked out your blood-curdling scream; it was a sound that would haunt them forever.

“(Y/N)!” They yelled in unison, rushing to your aid but finding the entrance blocked by a cave in.

“WE’VE GOTTA GET IN THERE!” Hook roared, punching the rocks repeatedly.

“Stop fool,” Scavenger objected, pulling Hook away.

“You pile of slag, we’ve got to save (Y/N).”

“Use your processor! The rock is unstable, by randomly punching it, we could cause another cave in and kill (Y/N). Is that what you want?”

Hook stepped back, shocked, “N-no but- What do we do then? Scrapper?”

Scrapper looked up from his servos, dazed; he’d been lost in the memory of hurting you. ‘Stop lingering on your mistake and fix it by saving (Y/N).’ The thought brought him back to the present. “Scavenger,” he said, “how long can (Y/N) with the air supply in there?”

Scavenger ran the numbers in his head, considering multiple variables that could affect your chances. “Hard to be precise but the minimum amount of time would be around 57 minutes and 12 seconds.”

“Then there’s time. Constructicons, transform, phase one.”

In their respective vehicle modes, the bots began digging, undeterred for the first half hour of the job, by which point Bonecrusher, Mixmaster and Long Haul were becoming anxious. At the start of the dig, Bonecrusher had been arguing with Long Haul who’d been whining that the dirt and sand were ruining his finish but now the two were silent; the pressure was getting to him. Mixmaster on the other hand, was talking enough for everyone.

“The second we get there, I’m going to give (Y/N) a big hug, then we can do all the cool things (s)he told us about. We can bake cakes and play video games and make sandcastles; mine will be better because I’m a great builder but I’m sure (Y/N)’s will be okay too and-”

“And according to my calculations we won’t make it in time.” Scavenger interrupted Mixmaster’s ramblings.

“What about a mix of acids?” Scrapper asked.

“Too dangerous.”

“Then I see no choice. Everyone, transform, phase two.”

The bots stopped digging, grouping up to form Devastator. Still being careful not to cause another cave-in, Devastator cleared the remaining rock within minutes. Stepping inside the cavern, he found you unconscious on the floor.

“(Y/N),” he stroked your hair lightly, rousing you.

Slowly, you woke up, having trouble focusing on the giant bot in front of you. Ignoring the pain, you managed a weak whisper, “Hey honey, thanks for the save.”

Devastator shuddered, holding back tears, “I-It’s going to be alright, we’re going to get you fixed. You need a- a-”

“Hospital.”

“Hospital! Right!”

• Trying to fend off the big servo petting you a bit too roughly, you’re aware of the other five crowding closer. And that they’ve decided you’re now a caretaker. Their caretaker. If you can just get down, you can book it for one of the buildings and hide inside because they’re too big to go after you. Maybe they’ll get bored and give up. Go grab someone else to terrorize. “You want me to take care of you guys, right?” You call out, pushing at his servo. “If you let me down, I can go get you energon and wash supplies.”

• Venting tiredly as Bonecrusher keeps petting and nudging the tiny human, Scrapper runs a hand over his helm. Trying to follow his brother’s reasoning. Just because a few mechs are humoring the little organics as potential conjunxes doesn’t mean it’s a good idea. You look too soft, too fragile to handle one mech, let alone six. “Let them go,” he says and Bonecrusher growls at him, the bigger mech’s plating flaring slightly. Apparently not about to give up his new toy. Feels a bit bad for you, but you’re not worth getting into a fight over.

• “I could use some energon,” Long Haul mutters, watching the little organic squirming and making a futile attempt to avoid being touched. Are other mechs actually interfacing with these aliens? Sure, they’re eerily similar to Cybertronians in some ways, but they’re still organic. Strange and soft. And Bonecrusher clears his vents, holding you up. ‘You gonna go get us some energon? Take good care of us?’ He asks and you nod frantically. You’re eager to please at least.

• Watching as Bonecrusher bends to set you on your tiny feet, Hook shakes his head when you slowly back away, eyes wide. And Bonecrusher turns to Scrapper, looking pleased with himself about finding them an alien mate. “Hate to break it to you, but our future conjunx is running away,” Hook drawls, tracking you as you break into a sprint. ‘Hey!’ Bonecrusher growls, charging after you and your only response is to scream and run faster. “You know, that must be true love right there,” he adds as Mixmaster laughs and Scrapper groans.

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• “Mine,” Bonecrusher snarls, actually planting a big hand in Scavenger’s face when the other Decepticon tries to see what the hold up is. Flushing, you resist the urge to retreat on the berth when Bonecrusher just barrels toward you, smacking his palms on the berth and hauling himself up as he mass shifts. When Swindle had approached you while they were out about surprising your mechs, you’d been wary, but apparently the mech came through. Reaching for the vest to take it off, he growls. “It stays on,” he demands and you almost laugh, wiggling the shorts down over your hips, but leaving the tool belt on.

• Where’d you get that stuff? Mixmaster has a suspicion as he vents and catches the faint scent of Swindle. Guessing the mech will be charging them for the gift later. Or he wants something. That one never does anything that doesn’t benefit him somehow. Distracted when you squeal with a laugh as Bonecrusher backs you up to the wall and pins you, he growls. “Wait,” he snarls, climbing up and mass shifting to grab his brother’s arm and for a klik he thinks Bonecrusher will swing at him. But when he eases to his knees, palming your thighs, Bonecrusher just rumbles and gives him space.

• That noise you make when Mixmaster growls and tugs your thigh over his shoulder and puts his mouth on you goes straight through Hook. Especially when that silly hat tips sideways on your head, hips bucking as you move restlessly against Mixmaster’s hungry mouth. Those little hands clinging to the other mech’s helm, as his own spike stirs behind his plating. Mixmaster’s oral fixation making him aggressive about getting you ready for them. And that oversized hammer squeaks when you squeeze it as you cling to Mixmaster, trembling with a cry as you come apart.

• “Flatline?” Scrapper repeats, voice rumbling and thick with disbelief. Trying to imagine the little pacifist medic throwing Mixmaster out of the Medbay. “The little mech that hates confrontations? That Flatline?” And Mixmaster snarls at him, servos curling into fists like the other mech is thinking about taking a swing at him. Staring him down until Mixmaster looks away first, Scrapper’s striding out of their habsuite and to Medbay. Aware of Hook and Bonecrusher following him as he tries to imagine Flatline intimidating anyone.

• Shoving open the Medbay door, Hook pushes past Scrapper and heads for the counter as soon as he spots you and Flatline’s human. And you smile weakly where you’re sprawled in a dish of soapy water, your skin broken and scratched in places to set his denta on edge. Reaching in, he scoops you out and examines you as the other human backs away warily. “Sorry about the scare,” you manage and his spark aches that you’re upset about worrying them when you’d nearly died.

• Reaching for you to make Hook rumble a warning, Bonecrusher strokes a servo against your jaw. Had left you and Mixmaster alone making energon goodies and hadn’t even considered that something so simple could be deadly to you. Taking you from Hook, he lifts you to his face, rubbing his jaw against you to knock you over in his palm. “No apologizing,” he growls, venting against you as you lay a soft hand on his face. ‘That was Mixmaster’s fault, not yours,’ Hook mutters sourly and you just make a face like you don’t agree, but you’re not covering for the other mech.

• Head turning when Flatline comes out of the back, plating flaring slightly, you hope Scrapper isn’t about to thrash the medic. And they’re snarling in their language at each other even as Bonecrusher just turns and walks away with you. Exhausted after the trauma and fear, you really want to curl up in your blankets. Maybe have a good, stressed out cry. But that might freak out your mechs and you have a feeling you’re definitely getting yelled at later. You’re just glad Mixmaster had noticed you’d fallen in so quickly.

• Smiling faintly as Hook threatens and guilts the others into leaving you alone, you start drying off, before realizing you’re so exhausted, you don’t really care and just laying there wet. Still can’t quite figure out how you went from being run down in the woods by them because they were bored to lovers. And thinking about that makes you remember how sore you are, not that your body is letting you forget. Because they’d given you the most intensive workout of your entire life and you swear you can feel the bruises forming even though they’d tried to be gentle.

• Clearing his vents when Hook stands guard over where you’re sleeping, Bonecrusher is aware that he can just move the other mech by force if he wanted to. Something Hook has to also be aware of. The only reason he isn’t? You do need the rest, satisfaction humming through him that you’re now his, theirs. Because it feels only natural to share a mate when they share everything else.

• Working on his datapad, Scrapper keeps glancing at your little habsuite. Remembering how soft you’d been against him, the sounds you’d made. And it’s impossible to focus on work. To sketch out blueprints when he just wants to lay down beside you, skate his servos over your body and map you out by touch. Venting and embarrassed that he feels like a naughty sparkling when Hook catches him staring, he forces himself to focus on work. Not warm, soft bodies curled against his. Little hands and the way your skin tastes under his lips.

• Ignoring Hook watching them all and guarding you, Mixmaster raids your little food prep area. Finding you water and things he’s seen you eating. Things you like. And Hook gives him a filthy look as he walks past him with a tray. “Hey,” he says, aware of his brothers all watching him now. That none of them have mass shifted back, yet. Sees your eyes open, but you don’t sit up, so he sits on the edge of your plush bed, glad they’d reinforced it as he puts the tray down and pulls you up to lean against him, your towel falling down in your lap as you yawn. Swallowing a groan at your soft skin on display, he picks up a bite of your food and almost whines when your mouth opens to take the bite from him, lips brushing his servos. Can feel his brothers all glaring at him, probably angry they didn’t think to feed you first, but this is his love language.

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