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Transformers: One Shots

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Hello friends! Welcome to a new story. Just a few things before we start:

💕Rude comments will be reported.

💕I do not own Transformers or (Y/n), I am merely an author using them for an adventurous tale.

💕I have chosen not to use Archive Warnings, but a rundown of the content of this book includes:
▪️Graphic Depictions of Violence
▪️Age Difference Relationships (as in, 3,000 year old robot with a 18 year old reader)
▪️Pharma Being....Well, Pharma

💕I update as often as possible, so please be patient with me! I do not have a lot of time.

That's all for now, folks! Enjoy the story~

Chapter Text

“You need someone dependable. I would like to offer my services.” Optimus stated. You stared at him with confusion - what exactly was he suggesting? Because you could take care of yourself just fine, thank you very much. Your eyes narrowed dangerously and stuck your chin up, staring him in the optics.

“No, thank you. I think I’ll be just fine without a babysitter.” you spat. Optimus almost let himself look shocked - but covered it just as quickly with a frown and a raised brow. A rush of air left his vents in what sounded like a sigh. You completely ignored it. Your focus was now on marching straight forward and out the door. Preferably without any interceptions to your escape from this conversation.

Optimus had other ideas. “Please, don’t think of it as babysitting. Think of it as….hm, think of it as “hanging out.” That is what friends do, isn't it?” you screeched as he scooped you up. He looked at you with a smug face, though you were sure the face was not intentional (or perhaps it was. You could never really tell with him).

“That isn’t - quit that!” you slapped away one of his digits that had been ruffling your hair. “Listen, Optimus, in all the times I’ve hung out with my friends, never once have they trailed me to and from every place I went. As much as I love spending time with you, I don’t think it’s necessary for you to follow me around.”

Oh god, oh god, oh god, look away! Optimus’s smug grin fell into a small frown, complete with puppy dog eyes you didn't know robots were capable of possessing. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but quickly closed it. The uncomfortable silence stretched on for a solid minute, before Optimus finally decided on what he wanted to say.

“I just want you to be safe. Especially after what happened with Rumble and Frenzy. It was unacceptable that you were left alone - I couldn't forgive myself if anything had happened to you when you were under our care.” Right, the twins. A shudder ran down your spine at the recent memory. The boys, though small, were quite a threat, using their size and destructive talents to their advantage. It was hard enough to watch for the bigger decepticons, such as Knockout or Runamuck, who could change into inconspicuous vehicles. To expect to pick out mini cons disguised as cassettes (and cassettes of your favorite band, no less)....

You were glad that Bee and Optimus had been there to save you. By the time you'd noticed the twins were there, they had had enough time to become….obsessed overly attached. Optimus had saved you from their weirdly possessive grasp. And, now that you think about it, he probably had been defending you from their overly doting “father”, who would do anything to please his “sons”. You knew that Mercedes was too nice for this town!

You licked your lips and glanced down. “You know, it’ll look weird if an older man is driving me to school every day in his semi-truck.” Optimus laughed, a deep, reverberating sound that shook you in his servo. When he was finally composed, he smiled at you (and you weren't ashamed to admit, you felt your knees go slightly weak. Can you say daddy issues?) and placed you upon his shoulder.

“I’ll figure something out, should it come down to that.” He agreed. “But I would prefer it that I be the one to accompany you. You're far too unprepared to face the world of Decepticons alone. I am your best bet at keeping Soundwave and the minicons at a distance.”

“Someone dependable….” you repeated his words from earlier, placing your chin against your palm. Optimus gave a small nod - he was smiling, the bastard, he knew he'd won you over - and began to walk towards the exit of the base.

“Someone concerned about your safety.” He confirmed. “If you’ll let me, I’ll take care of you.”

Chapter Text

It was never your plan to be paired with Jack Darby on this project.

Your history teacher knew you were anti social. You didn't have time for lack of focus on projects - not when you had a much bigger one ongoing with the Decepticons. No, it was easier to work alone than try and get along with other humans. So when she put you with that idiot Jack Darby, the oldest autobot pet and the nosiest guy you’d met in your sixteen years of life, you were enraged.

Not to be rude or anything, but anyone who worked with the Primus-forsaken Optimus Prime and his squad of walking afterburners was dead to you.

You cooperated, though. You and he worked diligently through every period on your project (You refused to let him touch the paper. You’d seen his grades before), no conversation required, and it was coming to the last few weeks of this torture. Thank Primus. Today was hardly different than the rest, other than Jack seeming….bothered. You would've asked why but frankly? You didn't care. He wasn't your friend. He was barely your equal. So you let him suffer in silence and focused your attention on your own work.

It was a bit of a shock to the heart when Jack set the marker down and turned towards you. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

You hummed, still flipping through the history text book.

“Who was that guy picking you up yesterday? The older one - kind of looks bird-ish?” You stopped mid flip, eyes glued to the paper, throat dry. What does one tell an autobot pet when they ask you about your guardian? Oh, you mean Starscream? The right servo of Lord Megatron? That bird-ish looking guy? No, you decided, you'd just have to think up something convincing enough. Starting with a title.

“Family friend.” You answered shortly. “My folks are out of the country on business.” folks????? Great. Great job, (Y/n). That sounds so convincing. Jack nodded slowly, as if he was thinking your answer over, before pressing his marker to the paper once again. It wasn't surprising the rest of your work time was spent in silence. It definitely wasn't a surprise the minute the bell rung you were out of your seat, things gathered messily in your arms, bolting for the door. Starscream would kill you for dumping your disorganized crap into his passenger seat, but screw it - if it meant getting away from that scrap metal lover, you’d take his bitching. Jack’s quick footsteps only pressed you on.

“Hey, w-wait up!” no, no, no! Curse his long legs! The rolls royce was within eyesight, as was the holoform balanced on the front hood, tapping his fingers impatiently. Please look this way….

He didn’t. Instead, you turned to face your partner, mouth turned into a grimace. “Yes? What do you need, cause my ride's here and I really gotta dash.The bird-ish looking guy gets impatient quickly.”

Jack has suddenly been replaced by a fish. His mouth opened and closed a few times, seemingly searching for the right words, until he finally gave you an awkward smile that said everything you needed to know.

He was stalling.

You pursed your lips. What exactly he was stalling for, you couldn't say - but he definitely knew something he shouldn’t have. Jack opened his mouth to try again but you cut him off. “Look, man. I don’t have time for this today. How about you figure out what it is you’re trying to say and tell me on Wednesday when we meet again?” You barely gave him time to answer, turning on your heel and taking off towards Starscream, glad to be away from the invasive boy.

Starscream grimaced as you chucked your things into his back seat, slipping into the passenger seat next to his holoform.

“You're late.” The con stated. Yes, yes you were, but did it matter? Couldn’t he just drive without question? “Lord Megatron was expecting us ten minutes ago. He will not-”

“That stupid autobot pet knows you’re picking me up.” You blurted. The breaks slammed on, sending you head first into the dashboard. A shrill whining noise reached your ears and you groaned in response.

“What!”

“He kept asking about you, like he knew who you were. I avoided answering as best I could but it’s obvious he knows.” Starscream whined again. “I don’t know what he plans to do with the information, though. He doesn't even know my last name! And what’s he going to do, anyways? No one would believe him.”

You could feel your protector’s seething attitude. “Optimus would.”

Fuck, you’d completely forgotten about him. Should you be unlucky enough, Optimus would probably try to play hero - you’d be very pissy if he tried to take you form your family because of that damn Darby. Awesome. You resisted the urge to hit something. You knew, knew, when you joined Jack Darby’s class, that something would go wrong. That it would be hard to keep it from him and his friends how you’d become a decepticon - especially since you had been Raf’s babysitter since he was a toddler. The only person you were closer with than him was Soundwave, considering you also babysat his kids.

Your brows furrowed. “Stars? What would….um, I know the decepticons don't have much of an affection towards me, but what happens if the autobots try and take me?”

It was a risky thing to say while he was driving, especially after what had just happened, but you needed to know. You needed either the security of safety or a plan on protecting yourself. The con stayed silent. A sign not to press it? You didn't know, but you backed off all the same. After a few more moments of silence, Starscream finally spoke up.

“I’d rip those autobots apart limb by limb like the scrap metal they are. Those organics, too. It’s my job to keep you safe - both of us would be fragged if anything happened to you.” He snarled. You couldn't help but smile as his seats began to heat up from anger. He always got himself so worked up.

“Understood. Thanks, Starscream.”

Chapter Text

Oh boy. Ohhh boy.

You had made many, many bad decisions in your life. Jumping from your roof into a pool? Skipping class? Agreeing to move Nevada on your own? But this - this had to be the worst. Picking up two injured, angry, skeptical alien robots? Damn their puppy eyes and pleading, you should've left them alone (or at the very least, called government officials). And yet, you, being the kind soul you are, agreed to help as best you could. It wasn't easy getting them back to your house inconspicuously - the injured one, you think his name is Rumble, couldn't do much. He was bound to one form when injured.

His brother was no better. Though he was sweet enough, Frenzy had major issues (and you think those issues have a name - ADHD). He was hyper focused on his brothers health - demanding you fix him, reassuring Rumble - to the point where you were concerned for your mortality should you be unable to help. You were no mechanic, after all.

Once the boys were actually in your garage, though, it was easier to see what the problem was. Someone had thrown Rumble into a cliff. Shards of rock were stuck in the grooves of his armor and dents littered his chest and back and shit, was his wing supposed to be bent like that? You got to work, starting with the rocks and making your way towards his wing. But you were beginning to think the injuries were far worse internally than externally.

“So,” you started, examining the bent metal. “am I warranted to ask why you've been thrown into a cliff?” Rumble’s fans began to whir. You couldn't see his face from your position, but you could guess, based on Frenzy’s nervousness and how loud his internal cooling systems were, that it was rather unhappy. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“None of your business.” You sighed yet didn't press it. Truly, it wasn't your business. He would tell you if he wanted to (and besides, the less information you knew, the less need they might feel to kill you at the end of this).

Another hour passed in silence, with minimal conversation from you and the “Casetticon” (as you learned they were called) Rumble. His brother mostly kept up a one sided conversation, asking every now and then a question you'd be happy to answer: What’s your favorite song? Why are your hands so small? Are you aware Lord Megatron is preparing to destroy your planet? Can I pet your cat?

Yeah, it was quite the predicament you’d gotten yourself into. Frenzy was a bit of an oversharer, you highly doubt he was supposed to say anything about world domination (clear when Rumble gave him the cutoff symbol), so you just plopped your cat in his lap and listened as he, once again oversharing, told you about the robot cat his robot father owned on the robot ship where they lived. You tried very hard to stay focused on your original task - working out what you could of the dents Rumble had sustained, straightening his wing, tightening the physical loose screw he had and hoping it would set his head straight - and while you were initially successful, you made the grave mistake of tuning back in to what Frenzy was saying.

“-says we’re the best at what we do, that’s why he got overconfident with Bumblebee.”

“Frenzy!” Rumble hissed, abruptly pushing himself up. You squeaked as you toppled backwards off your stool and onto the concrete floor, slamming your head down hard. “Oh, frag, now look what happened!”

Frenzy was frozen with what looked like fear and guilt. You protested, over the pounding in your ears and the string of swears coming from an unhelpful Rumble, that you were fine. That you’d had worse in the past therefore he shouldn't feel all that bad. But as Rumble set you on your feet and watched you stumble into the workbench, you knew it wasn't convincing enough for either brother.

You scrunched your eyes close and took a seat next to Frenzy. “I’m fine, but I don’t see why you should care. You said this Lord Megatron guy ‘despises all the pests who make up the population of humanity.’ If he’s your boss, and that’s the case, my health shouldn’t matter to you all that much.” The attempt to take his mind off you and onto his job only seemed to make it worse. Frenzy bowed his head in shame. He looked like a damn kicked puppy - and probably felt way worse than you looked.

“It’s different with you.” He insisted. You groaned - hadn’t you heard that one before - but listened all the same. “You’re useful.” Awesome, a two word explanation. You glanced at Rumble for a better description. His air vents hissed in a form of a sigh.

“You are a pest, don’t be mistaken. But your skillset makes you useful to the Decepticon cause, and especially to us little guys. We don’t get enough respect from Doc Knock - ain’t that right, Frenzy?” Frenzy gave a nod, still with his eyes trained to the floor. Rumble retook his seat, adjusting himself so his wings rested just on top of your work bench. “Doc Knock don't like to fix us up as nicely as you have. He thinks just cause we're small, we don't deserve the same respect. We're too childish.” He finished the last part in a mocking voice.

You climbed shakily back onto the work bench. The silence, uncomfortable and stifling, dragged on as you began to work once more. What could you say to that? They were childish - but if you agreed with this new character in the plot line, you risked upsetting them.

“Well,” you grunted, straightening the tips of Rumble’s totally not threatening blasters. “think of it this way. You just took on this - what's his name, Bumblebee? - Bumblebee fellow, who, from what you've described, has evaded the grasp of everyone else.”

“I guess, but--”

“But nothing. You took him on and walked away with almost nothing. No dents, no bends, nada.”

“I’m….not understandin’ what you're trying to say. Did you not spend three hours helping me?” The confusion in his tone was adorable (y’know, for an evil space robot). You smiled in satisfaction at the finished product of a job well done, hopped off the bench, and walked around to the front of him.

“Sure I did! But they,” you thumbed upwards towards the sky (in what you hoped would be an understood reference to their ship). “don’t need to know that.” It took a minute, but Rumble’s face finally lit with realization. Granted, this wasn't entirely for his ego - you were maybe sort of kind of hoping that if no one else knew you helped, you'd be allowed to go free. It was a longshot. You'd been told a lot of information, most of which you knew you weren't supposed to hear, and you'd provided them with what might've been too much of a job well done on buffing. But you could hope. And, worst case scenario, you could plead.

“How do we know you won't rat us out? If we leave you here, how do we know we can trust you?”
“How do I know you won't rat me out?” You countered, before offering up a pinky. “Mutual agreement. You keep my existence secret, I'll keep yours.”

Frenzy looked alarmed at the sight of your outstretched arm. “I don't….” You glanced down to where he was looking.

Right. Giant alien robots - not sure about human customs. You smiled.

“You've never done a pinky promise, huh?” He shook his head. You grasped his hand in yours, stretching his pinky and wrapping it as best you could around your own, smaller one. “Like that. Then you shake!”

Rumble shook his head at your childish oath, but Frenzy was more than fascinated. You assumed he was probably always fascinated with human things.

Maybe you'd get with him to watch The Little Mermaid some time.

The boys left not long after that, tearing off back to where you found them - something about needing to send a signal home. Their equivalent of calling your mother to pick you up, they said. Weird was the only word that came to your mind.

Once alone, you picked up the phone, and for a brief moment, it crossed your mind to call someone, anyone. Just to assure you you weren't crazy. But then you remembered your promise, and how Frenzy had tried to fit his pinky around yours, and how Rumble spoke so fondly of his family, so you set the phone down. They were just kids. You couldn't betray a couple of kids - it'd fuck them up in the head. Which meant you were stuck being medic to a couple of alien robots for the time being. You sighed. Great. Well, if this was the way it was going to be, you might as well learn to fix them up properly. You'd have to call Mr. Watson later and see if he’d show you how to buff a car. They were similar enough - somehow, you would manage to figure out the differences in your own.

But now, it was time to sleep. Who knew - maybe you'd wake up in the morning and find this was all a weird dream. Or maybe, you'd wake up to find a twenty foot robot watching you through your bedroom window, and two little promise breakers cowering at his heels. You groaned and rolled out of bed. The big one was kind enough to step back as you popped the window open.

The day was full of possibilities - including being interrogated by other robots, you supposed, so might as well face that part now.

“Let's get this over with.”

Chapter Text

“Tarn.”

“No.”

“Taaarn.”

“No.” Tarn repeated. You sighed in exasperation. Was it so much to ask for him to take you out? You'd been cooped up in the ship for far too long, stuck with Kaon (who never let you leave his sight, much less the ship), playing good so that you could actually see the daylight again (even if it was from the sun of an alien planet). And now, he wouldn't even toy with the idea.

“Don't be such a hardass, Tarn.” The robot, could you see under his mask, raised his eyebrows at your and frowned.Humans. Humans and their dumb human phrases. He shook his head. “Besides, it's your turn to watch me, and I wanna go outside.”

You know what you reminded Tarn of? Now that he thought about it, like, really thought, you were a lot like Ratbat. Small. Needy. Always hungry. Maybe he should get you together with the cassetticon - surely Soundwave wouldn't mind a visit from the DJD for a day or so. And then he’d get a break from your annoying -

“-you aren't even listening anymore, are you?” You huffed. The ‘con sighed and ruffled your hair with a single servo.
“My apologies. I'm just….distracted. We have a new guest aboard the Peaceful Tyranny, and it’s my turn to watch both of you.”
That certainly hushed you. Your mouth hung wide open, your eyes sparkling with mischief, Head probably filled with a million evil little plans. Tarn began to walk once more.

“But - Hey, wait up! I wanna meet them.” You insisted, ducking between Tarn’s legs and through the open door. The robot’s optics went wide. Stupid child! You couldn’t possibly know of what dangers the rusted autobot medic presented. He rushed forward, but he couldn’t reach you fast enough to stop the interaction. Fuck.

The med shot Tarn a twisted grin. “My my, Tarn. And here i thought i was a prisoner - I hadn’t expected such a treat.” Tarn grimaced. They aren’t for you, he wanted to spit, but you were here and you were stubborn, and when he told you what to do you usually didn't listen.

“Um, I - Oh, geez.” Your whole face lit red with embarrassment (and, hopefully, regret. Tarn could only hope).. “Hey. Um, hi.”

Tarn gave you a warning glance - don’t get involved, keep your distance - but it was brushed aside the minute the med shoved himself into your personal space. Not that you seemed to mind. Too much time with Kaon and Grimlock will do that to a person.

“Hello. I am Pharma,” he all but purred, leaning in close to shake your much too small hand. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

You could only nodd. He was, to say the least, elegant. His charm held you in a trance - you’d only ever met one person this entrancing, and he was currently towering over the autobot med, ready to shove him off at the slightest threatening move. But something felt off - like the feeling when one forgets to turn the stove off before leaving home. His gaze held a look of craze and desire. It was as if a starved lion had wandered in and replaced the polite bot you’d been speaking to only moments ago.
You tugged your hand away.

“Not a fan of my company?” You tucked yourself cautiously behind Tarn’s leg, staring confusedly back at Pharma. “Quite alright. Not many people are. Not after they spend enough time with me, anyways.” He laughed and straightened up.

Tarn narrowed his eyes. Glanced at you and back to his new guest. Then began to usher you towards the door. He wasn’t exactly gentle as he sent you stumbling into the hallway, assuring you he’d only be a minute with Pharma. That, if you wanted, you could go find Nickel - for once, you didn't have to wait for him. Then he slammed the door in your face. Just like that! And though you were glad it kept that freak autobot from reaching you, you were not at all delighted when you found out it wasn't entirely sound proof.

After all, even robots can express pain.

Chapter Text

If you were to write a book, it would be called “Y/n’s Guide to the Care and Keeping of Decepticons.” A surefire hit, you just knew, and the first chapter would practically write itself!

Chapter One: NEVER. TELL. YOUR GUARDIAN. YOUR FEARS.

Of all the stupid things bird-man could've done, he went and told Megatron everything you'd said in the car. Including the thing about being kidnapped. And naturally, because they're dramatic and it's what they do, Megatron called an emergency meeting. An emergency meeting which you were forced to go to (despite having things to do, which you most certainly were still going to do, regardless) and where you were met with multiple Vehicons telling you that your fear is irrational, they'd never even let the autobots touch you, and did you want them to kill Jack Darby for you?

Well, yes. Yes you did. But it didn't matter what you wanted, apparently, because Megatron made them leave to have a private conversation with you, your guardian, and his fucking medic team. And now you're stuck here, doing homework on the arm of Megatron's throne, trying not to scream in embarrassment as he strokes your back just a bit too hard for your liking.

Again, it didn't seem to matter what you wanted. Why even bring it up?

“I'm surprised, pet, that you didn't immediately come to me with this. Don't you think I care about your wants?”

“You know what I really want?” You cut in, gripping your pencil a bit harder than necessary. “I want for Starscream to drive me home and us to never bring this conversation up again.”

Megatron laughed, shaking the whole chair and, in osmosis, your homework. God, why did you have to be here? You loved your friends - you did! - but they were big and loud and a nuisance to your grades. You'd never be able to hand in your essay with this many mindless scribbles on it. Besides that, you weren't getting anywhere with it. All your brainpower had gone into multitasking - listening to them and writing things down.

You glanced up from your place on the arm of Megatron’s throne to find the face of an apologetic Starscream. The glare you sent him said everything - you're not getting out of this that easily. He'd be lucky if you didn't key his dashboard for pulling such a stunt. Idiot.

“My lord, perhaps it is….better, if I take (Y/n) home. It has come to my understanding that human sparklings get agitated without enough sleep - ours clearly needs more.”

Excuse me?!

Oh, he did not just call you a sparkling! How dare he? Why, if you weren’t as tiny as you were….Starscream gave Megatron a know-it-all look (only furthering your rage). The robot overlord ‘hmm’d thoughtfully before nodding.

“You may be correct, Starscream.” You squeaked as he scooped you up. Always with the carrying, never with the warnings. That's the Decepticons for you. “However, I expect you to be here on time tomorrow. And you, pet, are to be prepared with a full report on this Jack Darby character.” Yeah, right. Preparation wasn't your scene - he'd be lucky if you even came tomorrow. Maybe you'd just walk home! Show them exactly what you thought of being ordered around.

The minute you were in Starscream passenger seat, you kicked the underside of his dashboard.

“Ow!”

Sparkling? Really?? I'm sixteen, Stars!”

“You wanted to leave, did you not?”

“Well, yes but-”

“But nothing! Look, we got to leave. What you should be saying is thank you.” Though you couldn't see it, you could tell he had that stupid smug grin on his face.

You sighed. “-but you didn't have to ridicule me to do so.” He wasn't paying attention. Or maybe he was, and he didn't want to say anything. Maybe because he couldn't respond to that. Such was the ways of Starscream. His pride and deadset mind always seemed to get the best of him. You turned the radio up and nodded along with whatever pop song was playing until your house came into view.

The second chapter of your book was beginning to form through little thoughts and scenarios. Yes, you had it now. Like the first chapter, it would be a warning, and it would be called “Keeping the Receipts: How To Avoid Getting Into Dumb Decepticon Situations.”

The first question someone had to ask themselves, looking back on meeting friends, was this. How long had it been since you'd first joined their little group? You didn't know anymore. Two, three years? Long enough that you'd lost focus on your main goal. Long enough that if someone asked, you weren't sure you could tell them how your goal came about, or why you'd yet to complete it. Even so, it wasn't exactly your fault. Megatron was the one in charge of setting you on this path. So why hadn't he?

Screw the Jack Darby report - it was time you and Megatron had a little chat.