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(MAKING RECOVERY ART OF MIC SOON I PROMISE) @mlm-writer thank you for this, it made my day .

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TFA Bulkhead + Artist Reader

Bulkhead waited eagerly as you got comfortable in his room, the two of you in the habit of every so often sharing your sketchbooks. His obviously had to be much larger than yours, so you’d sit on his shoulder while he showed it to you, then you’d move to his lap to be able to show him your sketchbook. 

His sketchbook was full of studies, his attempts at drawing organic life such as plants or humans. He’d also tried his hand at drawing the other bots, finding them much easier since they’re so familiar. As he showed them to you, you gave him gentle constructive criticism, mostly on the organic ones. 

It didn’t take too long for it to be your turn, so you carefully climbed down to get into his lap, your sketchbook in hand. “I’ve actually been trying to draw Cybertronians more myself.” You admitted sheepishly, holding your book up to make it easier for him to see. “I’m having a kind of hard time with it, but it’s fun too!” You said honestly, watching his expression closely for his reaction.

He looked closely, honestly really impressed. Assuming that you had similar issues drawing Cybertronians as he did trying to draw organics, this was impressive! He absolutely loved your extra commentary, from notes about their designs to other notes about the bot themselves. Starscream’s make him laugh, despite himself. “Bitchscream? Really?” He asked, looking at you with an optical ridge raised. 

You shrug with a sheepish smile “Am I wrong?”

He thinks it over and shakes his head, chuckling. “No, not really.” He admitted, looking through more pages. He finds your sketch dump of him, energon rushing to his face plate. They were….really good. Does he really look like that? Noticing all of the little hearts and sweet comments didn’t help him calm down any. Apparently you thought his concentrating face was cute, his smile was precious, and that when confused he was like a puppy. 

When realizing what page he was on, your own face flushed red. At least he didn’t seem to mind, though you were a little embarrassed. “I hope you don’t mind…it’s just so relaxing to draw you.” You admitted, a little fidgety. 

Bulkhead absolutely lit up, smiling at you reassuringly. “I don’t mind at all! They look great!”

Grinning proudly, you continued your tour of your sketchbook, perfectly comfortable in Bulkhead’s lap.

Can you do a rung x femme reader where the reader is one of rungs patients. Preferably nsfw but fluff is cool too.

Rung X Reader - Immoral

A/N – I played about with this so much I my head, and I can finally say that I’m happy with the end result.

Warnings – NSFW / SMUT

Rating – M

How did life come to be this way? For Rung things had never been simple, but he couldn’t ever remember life being so hard either. As you laid back on the small sofa that he’d gotten for you, telling him about any problems you were having on the ship, he could barely concentrate. Instead, he was staring at your face, your eyes, your soft skin, all of your human imperfections that to him made you perfect.

‘I love you,’ he thought, and it was that single thought that caused him so much pain.

Rung had always had trouble defining the line between patient and friend, but this was far worse. He wanted to be your everything. He wanted to be your friend, confidante, only love, but all he would ever be was your therapist.

“Are you okay?” You asked and it took Rung a minute to realise that you were talking to him.

His cooling fans clicked on in embarrassment and he blushed somewhat guiltily. “Ah, yes, yes, I’m perfectly alright. I was merely reflecting on your current predicament.”

You had a feeling that wasn’t true and that Rung was distracted, though seeing as this was a first, you didn’t press the matter. “Great, then if you don’t mind, I’ll give you time to further reflect on that and maybe we can talk later… Say over drinks at ‘Visages’?”

Your invitation did nothing to sooth Rung’s tumultuous thoughts and he had to force his mind away from the possibility of a stronger relationship with you. “I’m sorry (Y/N), I don’t think that would be appropriate.”

You smiled sympathetically jumping down from his desk, “You know Rung, life will only be lonely if you treat everyone as patients instead of friends outside of work. Whether you decide to come or not, I’ll be waiting. Think on it.”

With that, you left, and Rung was sure he would be able to do nothing but ‘think on it.’ How could he not, when the possibility to be something more to you than just a therapist loomed over him.

———————————————————————————————————–

Rung stood outside “Visages” for an uncomfortably long time, wondering what he was even doing there. On one servo, he shouldn’t indulge himself by spending time outside office hours with one of his patients, but on the other servo, you were right; his life was very lonely. He paused to clean his glasses, using the time to think further on the matter.

To be fair, he could just walk in and give a cursory visit; it wasn’t as if it was forbidden to speak to you, especially after he had been invited. He did wonder however, if you would even still be there; you hadn’t specified a time, but this was extremely late organic standards.

Rung put his glasses back on with a sense of finality. He would go in, go to the bar and order a cocktail as a special treat for himself, then he would survey the area to see if you were there. If you were, he would accompany you for a short while, because it would be rude to do otherwise, and if you had already left, then Rung would be left in his own company as usual.

Rung entered the club, trying not to appear too nervous as he scanned the dim room for you. He was about to go to the bar when he spotted you in one of the corner booths. You were dancing on the table, surrounded by laughing mechs, while Getaway pushed an alcoholic drink towards you, saying you had to strip for it.

Rung flushed with fury, deducing that the crew had probably lulled you into a false sense of security, giving you drinks until you were too overcharged to say ‘no.’ It wasn’t surprising that a group of overcharged mechs would take advantage of you in such a way. Many had little experience with organics and would do just about anything to toy with the fragile beings, but this was too much. One look at your mussed-up hair, unfocused eyes, and definitive wobble and you danced was enough to tell anyone that you weren’t doing anything of your own volition anymore.

Before you could reveal any more of your stomach, Rung marched over to the table, shielding you with his servos as best he could.

“Gentlemen,” He said in his sternest tone, though it would be considered rather soft by anyone else’s standards, “I think it’s clear that (Y/N) is in need of some rest now.”

“Oooh, big talk from such a wimpy mech,” One of the voices chimed in, though the mech in question was clearly too drunk to pick a fight past rude insults.

“Yeah, come on Reng,” Getaway slurred, “She was just giving us a little show.”

“Well, the show’s over now,” Rung huffed.

“(Y/N), come on, tell glasses here that you don’t want to stop. We were having fun, weren’t we?”

You groaned, the alcohol finally hitting your system now you had stopped moving. “I don’t feel so good.”

Rung wanted to say that he was going to send a strongly worded message to their communicators and to Ultra Magnus the next cycle to punish the five mechs for their brutish behaviour, but that would have to wait because you were his first priority.

He took you from the club, carrying you carefully to your room, flinching whenever he moved to sharply causing you to groan sickly. Once in the safety of your hab-suite, he laid you down on your plush blue bed, moving your hair from your face and grabbing a glass of water for you. He was thankful for the years spent making model ships, for they gave him the grace required to use your considerably smaller items; he was also glad he had taken the time to study up on human behaviour and needs from the few mechs that had encountered organics in the past.

“(Y/N),” Rung said gently, offering the glass of water to you. “Please can you drink some of this? I think it will make you feel better.”

You murmured something that Rung couldn’t make out, reaching out for the glass of water and taking a few small sips, bringing some of the colour back to your cheeks.

“That’s a good girl, keep that up.”

You snickered, placing the glass on the bedside table, and pushing your hair out of your eyes. “Am I your good girl, daddy?”

Rung frowned, missing the organic humour, “Excuse me?”

“Rung… Why didn’t you come earlier?” You whined, momentarily forgetting your previously playful mood.

“I’m sorry I was late (Y/N). If I’d have been there- Well, I’m here now and I won’t leave till you’re well.”

“I’m not sick.”

“Overcharged is a type of sick, though I’ve heard it is easily fixed with some rest for humans.”

“We could fix it faster,” You grinned.

“Oh yes? And how do we do that?” Rung asked sweetly, all ears for anything that might make you better.

“You could fuck me.”

Rung looked at you solemnly, not getting flustered like you had expected. As a psychiatrist, he was used to the effects high-grade energon had on some Cybertronians, and he knew from Ratchet that humans weren’t much different. It was no surprise your libido was up, considering how much you had drank. He tried not to take it personally, though it hurt him to think you would have probably offered yourself to any mech that had taken you home from that god-awful abuse.

“I would say it’s better that you rest now (Y/N). Some sleep would benefit you wonderfully.”

“Aww, don’t be shy. It’s okay to have sex with someone you love, silly.”

“I beg your pardon?” Rung blushed, his cooling fans clicking on.

You flopped down on your bed exasperatedly. “Tailgate told me. He said, ‘Rung and (Y/N) riding in the ship, if he proposed it would be hip.’ And he’s right, that rhyme was dope.”

Rung sighed, wondering how many other mechs knew of his feelings towards you, other than Tailgate.

“Buuuuuuuuut,” You drawled, “When you are right, which is always, then you are right. And that means that consent is important. Whatever you wear an wherever you go, YES MEANS YES AND NO MEANS NO! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.”

Rung grabbed a Cybertronian sized chair, sitting down whilst sighing deeply, his processor whirring through methods that might help the situation, though he came up empty. “(Y/N), please…” He begged brokenly.

As if his sheer tone soothed you, you gave him a thumbs up, “Okay, got it. Sleeping the night away. You don’t like the nightlife, or to boogie. I get it, and I will sleep with or without you, beautiful.”

Rung said nothing and simply waited until you did as you promised and went to sleep. He remained there all night to keep an eye on you in case your intoxication caused you any further problems, and all the while he feared what your relationship would become in the morning. It was bad enough you pitied him enough to offer yourself for a night, but what would you say when you were sober? One thing was for sure; he couldn’t go back to calling you his patient ever again. Rung took off his glasses, and with one cursory check to make sure you weren’t going to wake up, he turned off his vocaliser and began to cry.

———————————————————————————————————–

When you awoke, you were glad not to have a hangover, remembering the copious amount of alcohol you had consumed the previous night. Although your head was alright, you still had to wrinkle your nose in disgust at the awful taste lingering in your mouth; there could be no doubt that your breath was strong enough to kill a horse.

You didn’t dare get up just yet, remembering with great regret the way you had acted the previous night. It was horrifying that you had let Getaway and his gang take advantage of you in such a manner, but what was worse was the things you had said to Rung. How would he react, you wondered, when you were to next speak to him? You tried not to cry, thinking that you had probably ruined your relationship with him forever. You obviously knew he had feelings for you and naturally, you had feelings for him, but after acting in such a crass manner you were sure Rung wouldn’t want to have anything more to do with you; he was so genteel and chivalrous.

The gentle hum of a fan slowly caught your attention and you turned your head to find an exhausted looking Rung sat watching you from his chair next to the door.

“Oh God,” You cringed, pinching the bridge of your nose exasperatedly. Of course he was there. He was a gentleman, and he would never leave you in a moment of need. Well, at least you didn’t taste vomit which meant that you only had to deal with your drunk horny vulgarity without adding gross organic matter to the list as well.

“Are you alright, (Y/N)?” Rung asked quietly, putting your needs before his own as he did with anyone.

“Physically, I’m peachy. Emotionally… Rung, I am so sorry for last night. I would never have said those things like that if I hadn’t been-”

Rung held up his servo, acting as maturely as ever, “It is quite alright (Y/N). I am sure there will be some repercussions about last night that we can discuss later, but for now… Well, we don’t need to discuss the matter any further.”

He got up to leave, only stopping at the door when you called for him to wait. He faced you, waiting for whatever was to come, however unpleasant it might be. You had already broken his spark upon telling him you never would have said such things sober, what more damage could you possibly do?

“I cannot let you put this conversation off Rung. I think we need to talk about this right now… Actually, in five minutes when I’ve brushed my teeth, but I can put that off if you’re going to leave.”

Holding back a sigh, Rung sat back down in the chair, allowing you time to freshen up first. Once you were reasonably clean and dressed, you sat back down on the edge of your bed, respecting the boundaries he had laid out, though you longed to be closer to him.

“Okay, so…” You swallowed somewhat anxiously. “I um- Well, I already told you what Tailgate said, but I never asked you how you feel. I’m going to ask now, and please answer truthfully, Rung, are you really in love with me?”

After everything that had happened since Rung set foot in that awful club last night, he found no point in lying and further making the situation worse. He took his glasses off to look you directly in the eyes, answering solemnly, “Yes.”

“For how long?”

That was a more difficult question for Rung to answer. How did one truly tell when fondness became affection, and affection became love? He supposed it must have been during your sessions together, when you would often speak not as a patient, but as a friend. All the same, Rung found an answer forming on his lips, “Since you started staying over in my sessions, even though I didn’t ask you to.”

“Right… Then can I say just one more thing to clear things up?”

Rung gazed at you with optics filled with melancholy, wondering just how long you could prolong his suffering.

“Here, now, sober, I want you to know that my heart belongs to you.”

“I beg your pardon?” Rung’s mouth hung open.

“I don’t know if you believe in soulmates, but I do, and I can tell you, even before we met, I was yours.”

Rung shook his head, repeatedly whispering “no,” whilst trying not to cry again. It couldn’t be true. It had to be some residual effects of the alcohol, and yet there you were, telling him that you loved him back. “(Y/N), this is wrong, we can’t- I’myour psychiatrist- I-”

Rung wasn’t sure when you had approached him, but he was silenced when you climbed onto his lap. Reverently, you pressed your lips to his, not lingering too long.

“Did that really feel wrong to you, Rung?” You asked.

He shook his head, yet still finding an argument in him, he pleaded with you, “But, my ethical code…”

“Go against your ethics. Let me love you.”

———————————————————————————————————–

Rung moaned as you rested on his chassis, sucking his lower lip in your much smaller mouth. He hadn’t meant for things to go so far so quickly, but after you reciprocated his feelings for him, he couldn’t bear to part with you. He had only meant to kiss you once, but after countless time yearning for one-another, neither of you could stop.

He shuddered as you stroked the sensitive casing of his spark. Did you know how crazy you were driving him?

“I love you,” You breathed between kisses, moving to the left so you could tug at his neck cables; you had heard somewhere or other that this was hot for Cybertronians and you hoped it was true.

Rung gasped, throwing his head back.

“Sorry,” You cringed. “Did that hurt?”

Usually, Rung would correct your behaviour and tell you that tugging neck cables was only for couples who trusted each other wholeheartedly after years of experience. Yet, feeling your small hands reach places he’d never considered being touched was unbelievably erotic and he found himself placing all his trust in you when he shook his head and spoke raggedly, “Please, do it again.”

You smirked, glad that the seedy talk of other mechs had paid off as you tugged at Rung’s neck cables again, running your tongue and teeth over them afterwards.

Wanting to repay the pleasure you were giving him in full, Rung dared to ask, “What feels good to humans (Y/N)? I want to please you.”

You tugged off your shirt and bra, leading Rung’s servos to your breasts, “You could never fail to please me, my darling, but here is a good place to start.”

Rung kneaded your soft flesh tenderly, delighting in the sounds you made when his thumb glided over your sensitive nipples.

“Fuck. That’s so good~” You whispered.

Despite your praise, Rung paused to frown.

“Rung, what’s wrong?”

“It’s just- I’m- Are you sure you want to do this? I don’t want to rush you.”

You crossed your arms over your bare chest somewhat self-consciously, a light blush creeping over your cheeks, “Do you not want to do this with me?”

Rung cursed himself for hurting your feelings. There was nothing he wanted more, but the fear of complicating your relationship scared him. Instead, he took hold of your hands, removing them from your chest so he could admire you. “My spark, I want nothing more than to devour you here and now, but I need to know that you are ready for this.”

“Rung, I have a wetness between my legs right now that says I am absolutely ready for this.”

“Then please, allow me to tend to that, my spark,” Rung purred, switching positions so you were on the floor and he was looming over you. When you stripped the rest of your clothes off, Rung made sure you knew exactly how beautiful he found you, especially your beautiful organic valve, which he lapped at with the tip of his tongue. He was careful not to delve too deeply in case you couldn’t take his size, though he longed for a day in the future when he had prepared you enough to take not only his tongue, but his spike as well.

“Fuck,” You groaned as your hips bucked against his tongue, dripping your own arousal down your thighs. He was making such a mess of you already and you couldn’t even repay him in the state you were in. You managed to look up, finding that Rung had one of his servos on his spike, rubbing beads of trans-fluid from the tip while he serviced you.

“Please, keep talking like that,” Rung begged raggedly. “I need to know I’m doing a good job.”

“I want more of you, big boy. You better lap up all that cum if you truly want to devour me.”

Rung wasted no time, moaning as he lapped up your sweet juices. Tonight would be all about you; you had given him your love, so the least he could do was give you a good orgasm.

“Ahh, shit~” You bit your knuckles as Rung hit what he figured to be your anterior node. He grew ever more confident with his mouth as your legs started quivering around his mouth. “Fuck, Rung! You’re- Fuck- You’re finishing me off too soon.”

Granted, the two of you hadn’t been at it long, but Rung wanted desperately to see your face when you climaxed; he would be sure to hold that memory forever.

“Let go (Y/N). I want to taste your overload. Let me drink in your lust,” He smiled, going straight back to work on your clitoris until you were reduced to a squeaking mess, unable to say anything but his name.

You felt your body practically melt and you screamed in the throes of pleasure as you orgasmed against Rung’s mouth.

He dragged his tongue from your vagina to your thighs, drinking in the reward he had earned.

“Beautiful,” He purred, “As I suspected.”

You wanted to say something witty or charming in return, but you only managed to gasp as Rung went right back to work, playing with your breasts. He had only just got you, and he would be sure to show his love and appreciation for you all night long.

———————————————————————————————————–

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how would the mtmte bots of ur choosing react to being called dad/mom?

Human Liaison!Verse because the concept has suddenly stolen my heart. ❤ I did a whole bunch of these (the officers, plus some more i thought would be brilliant) bc I got very big Brooklyn 99 Vibes(tm) from this one and that also gave me some Big Feelings.

Human!Liaison, distractedly: Oh, thanks Dad. Wait no-

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Rodimus: You got it, kid! [cheesy thumbs-up]

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Drift: No problem. Remember, dinner’s at seven. Mom (Ratchet) made lasagna.

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Magnus: [definitely not about to cry] I... you’re welcome, child... 

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Megatron: No.

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Swerve: Hey, no prob, squirt! Just, uhh, don’t tell uncle Magnus 'bout this, okay?

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Rung: Do you really think of me as a father figure, [Y/N]?

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Whirl: Got your back, punk. HEY EVERYBODY!! SEE THIS KID?! MY KID NOW. MESS WITH [Y/N], YOU ANSWER TO ME.

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Rewind: ...that is it, I’m adopting you. Have you seen your other dad? We need to have a chat. Domey? Hey, c'mere! You have to meet our new-

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Ratchet: I’m not your dad, kid.

First Aid, from the hallway: [Maury voice] YOU are NOT the father!

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Tailgate: [head pats] Of course, sweetie. Anytime.

Tailgate, running away: CYCLONUS!!! CYCLONUS WE’RE DADS NOW-