Transformers x Reader

Dreadwing x Reader

I angrily twitch, silently screaming. I have been working for the past 3 weeks on a drawing of Dreadwing. It was odd, I know, but I enjoyed drawing other bots, it calmed me after a battle.

Taking hold of my small drawing pen, I slowly detail his armor, adding light and dark shadow where I can. Glancing in front of me where he currently stands, reporting to Megatron, and back onto the data pad, I rhythmically draw.

Look, detail, repeat. It was easy for me, simple. After placing final touches on the drawing, I hold it away from my faceplate, examining it to find the smallest mistake. Looking back up to check up on a small error, I see that Dreadwing is no longer in front of me. Slightly shrugging, I continue, only to stop when hearing a slight creak of metal behind me.

Slowly turning my helm, Dreadwing stands behind me, staring over my helm, looking at the detailed portrait I had just finished.

"That is, interesting."

His voice brings terror throughout my frame, not knowing how to handle the situation.

Suddenly, he grasps the data pad, holding it close to his optics, further observing it.

"This, drawing, would you care to do another?"

Optics widening in shock, I quickly grab the data pad back, opening a different file to type in my response. I cannot speak, so I communicate through text.

Flipping the data pad around, Dreadwing reads my message.

::It takes me awhile, especially if the subject moves about a lot.::

Slightly humming, Dreadwing scans the room, optics landing on one bot in particular.

"Soundwave, he does not move much, draw him?"

Glancing over to Soundwave, I slowly nod, turning to begin a new sketch of him.

Look, sketch, repeat.

Dreadwing stays unusually close by my side, watching the small strokes I make onto the data pad. Finishing Soundwave's basic framework, I begin my 2nd part of sketching.

Look, detail, repeat.

After what felt like only a few moments, I shade the last part of the drawing, holding it back and observing it again for mistakes.

Turning to Dreadwing, I give him the data pad, allowing him to more closely look at it. Letting out a slight hum in admiration, Dreadwing holds the data pad with one servo. Cocking my helm in confusion, he boldly states.

"Draw me again."

Shaking my helm in embarrassment,  I move to grab the data pad from his servo, only to result in him moving his servo high above his helm, a slight smirk on his faceplate.

Optic ridge quirking upwards, I let out an angered vent.

Frowning, I quickly place a chaste kiss on his lip plates, snatching the data pad while he is momentarily stunned, silently laughing as I run out of the throne room.

I snicker to myself in my processor, slowing to a brisk walk. Turning my helm, my optics widen at the sight of Dreadwing sprinting towards me, a determined look set on his faceplate.

I let out an inner squeal of excitement, turning and sprinting away, anxious of what the outcome of the chase will be.

=+=+=+=+=

Chestplate heaving, I glance around the corner, quickly making sure that the area is clear. Slowly prowling forward, I nervously glance behind me, anxious.

Dreadwing is still trying to track me, making it difficult to head back to the safety of my small berthroom.

Carefully moving forward, I stop just behind the next bend of the large hallway, hearing pedesteps. Letting out a silent scream, I calm as I notice it is just a drone.

Optics widening in thought, I wave the drone down, getting his attention. As he stands in front of me, awaiting order, I quickly type my message into my data pad, turning it around to face him.

::I am being hunted by Dreadwing, it would be much appreciated if you could escort me to my berthroom.::

Nodding his helm, he turns and slowly begins walking towards the direction of my berthroom.

As we reach a corner, he slows, bringing his helm to peek into the next hallway.

Quickly bringing his helm back, he swivels around to face me, lowly whispering.

"He is directly in front of your berthroom!"

Shaking my helm, I let out a grin as I begin typing on the data pad. Slightly shifting to allow him to glance over my shoulderplates, he reads the message.

::Tell him that he is needed elsewhere, perhaps the flight deck.::

Nodding his helm, he straightens his backstruts, calmly walking around the corner, gaining he attention of Dreadwing.

"Dreadwing, sir, you have been requested to arrive to the flight deck as soon as possible."

Hearing a light grumble, I peek my helm around the corner to see Dreadwing disappear into a separate room. Grinning widely, I hold my servo up to the drone, resulting in an enthusiastic 'high-five' in return.

As I begin to thank him, I shift my optics to the sound of pedesteps approaching.

"Who requested me to-"

Stopping in his tracks, I widen my optics as Dreadwing glares at me. Quickly turning to input the code for my berthroom, I lightly shake as I hear him quickly approaching. Entering the room, I furiously type the code into a small control panel, as the door begins to close, a large servo blocks the metal door, slowly pushing it open.

Slowly backing up, I watch as Dreadwing pushes his way into my berthroom, the metal door slamming behind him.

As we stare at each other, he begins to move forward. Each step he takes forward, I would take one back. Soon hitting the wall of my berthroom, I widen my optics in worry as he continues to stalk towards me.

Stopping only a pedestep away, his yellow optics bear down onto my own. Placing his servos on the wall, each about a foot away from my helm, he leans down, glaring into my optics.

"Give. Me. The datapad."

Slightly turning my helm, I keep my optics on his as I slightly shift to hide the data pad held behind me. After a long minute of tense silence, he leans forward even further, our faceplates dangerously close.

"There are other ways to make you give me that datapad."

Widening my optics, my spark beats rapidly as I begin to lightly shiver, unused to such close contact with another bot. As he continues his stare, my optics slightly flicker, dazed from the close presence.

Lightly biting my lip-plating, I let out a quick vent before I latch onto him, dropping the datapad. Losing my self-control, I smash my lip-plating against his own, receiving in a return of movement from the mech.

Servos moving lower to grasp below my hip-plating, he lifts me up, hooking my pedes around his hip-plating as he roughly pushes against my frame.

Energetically exploring the other, no sounds are shared except the creak of metal, a slight rev of an engine, or a low growl.

Chuckling to myself, I peer down to the datapad, a devious smirk on my faceplate.

Mechs are far too easy to distract!