Beggingggg For A Megatron (Transformers One) X Kind Male Reader Who Looked Up To Him Not As A Friend

Beggingggg for a Megatron (Transformers One) x kind male reader who looked up to him not as a friend but as a small crush. Megatron saw jt at first when he was D-16 and didn’t think much until when he declared to kill their leader (did not like him that I forgot his name) and tries to take advantage of the readers fondness towards him to make him join his side. The reader knows it’s wrong and declines which turns into a small argument about why the reader should join them..

THINKS OF SOME TOXIC TANGO OF LOVE AND LOYALTY WHERE ONE ISNT SURE—

MEGATRON X READER

Basically megop but with Y/N. You two are divorced YOU COULD HAVE BEEN SO MUCH MORE!! Also I don’t mention pronouns that often in my work but I’m tagging this as male reader :3

[cybertronian! male reader Angst AGAIN 😭 not that much though, you guys just argue a lil]

As D-16, he hadn’t thought much of your crush. He knew you as the mech who treated everyone with kindness, a trait he silently admired. You were almost an even softer version of Orion, gentle to a fault sometimes.

You were with them when you went to find the Primes, there, you uncovered the truth as they did. You watched as D-16's expression fell with every detail revealed about Sentinel and..everything he did.

Gesturing for him to follow you, you pulled him aside. He did so without hesitation—he knew you had no ill intent. Maybe his entire life had been a lie, but at least you were still there. As genuine as ever.

"I can’t believe…” he muttered, his voice strained. His optics moved across the ground, he had to blink rapidly to snap himself out of whatever thoughts he was having. You quickly placed a comforting servo on his shoulder, grounding him before he could spiral.

“D, look at me. I can’t believe it either,” you whispered, locking optics with him.

“We’re going to stop him…okay? I’m here with you.” You murmured. Was it a confession? Maybe so.

Your words hung in the air, heavy with hesitation. “I’ll follow you anywhere. We’ll get through this..together.”

D eyed you, his own voice faltering for a second.

“Yeah… yeah, okay.” He exvented, his optics again panning towards the ground as he let you comfort him. Despite the small flutter in his spark, the sudden goal to make Sentinel pay overrode any other emotion. He will pay.

When D-16 spiraled into Megatron, you were the first he sought out. His eyes were not the vibrant golden they used to be. You questioned him, to which he eagerly—almost desperately, held onto your shoulders in response.

“Y/N…listen to me. Do you trust me?”

“..I do trust you.”

“Then join me, come with me. I know how I’m going to make Sentinel pay for his lies. Unlike Orion's plan, I will make sure it gets done.”

You slightly shook your helm, “But D.. you two should be working together. Not split apart. I don’t want you doing anything uh.. extreme.”

His optics turned cold, narrowing in anger. “Extreme? You call my ideas extreme? Sentinel was the one that has been keeping us as slaves,” He hissed, inching towards you. “For years, for years, I thought we were doing the right thing. But no, everything was a lie. You, Y/N—you have to understand”

You watched in horror as Megatron killed Sentinel. He should have been satisfied now, but he wasn't. He called upon an army. Freedom fighters, but now they fought for a cause that no longer needed fighting. From his elevated position on the structure above, you locked optics.

His gaze flickered, just for a moment, as he took in the fear in your expression. Once, you looked up to him as someone you admired. Hell, you thought you loved him. Deep down, a part of you still did.

He’s still D-16, maybe. He must be, right?

You realized maybe you did have different ideals, different goals. To you, it should have ended when Sentinel was exposed. Then you had no option, perhaps after his death? You all would have rebuilt Cybertron together. Maybe even properly confess to D. Things just didn't go as planned in many ways.

But now, you could only watch as he descended the stairs toward you, his steps slow and deliberate.

You flinched, feeling his servo against the side of your helm. He stopped a couple inches away from you, leaning down, his voice a low hiss,

“Do you see it now, Y/N? That…I did that for you. For us.” His fingers traced the ridges of your helm, a caress that made your spark stutter in confusion. He was never, ever, this bold as D-16.

“I want you to join me. We can do this together.”

You hesitated, still trying to process how affectionate he was being with you. As much as you've dreamt of this, there was something off about it. D-16 was always soft, and casual about his demeanor. This Megatron was intense, his red optics burning into yours.

“Megs…I can’t.” You murmured. This was wrong. Very very wrong.

Megatron raised a brow, “You cannot?”

His servo shifted, cupping your chin and tilting your helm upward to meet his gaze. “Tell me something, Y/N. Are you a liar too?”

You furrowed your brow, “What? No, no, I haven’t lied to yo—“

“You said you’d follow me anywhere," He interrupted, "I need you to do that now.” He said in a softer tone, but you heard the hint of menace in his voice. It was an order, not a plead.

You took a deep intake, slowly stepping back from his grasp—his servo hung in the air for a moment before falling to his side.

“I don’t want to kill anyone, Megatron. I’m sorry, I can’t do this with you.” You said firmly, your voice steady. You had made up your mind.

His teeth clenched, frustration flaring in his optics as he stepped closer again, closing the distance between you two.

“Where is loyalty when you need it the most!? Where is it?! Tell me!” He exclaimed, his outburst making you take another step back.

Your optics flickered back to where Orion and your friends should be, then back at Megatron. “I want to be with you, Megs, I do. But this fight.. it’s over. Sentinel is dead.”

You stepped forward despite your frantic sparkbeat, your servos grasped onto his which were balled into fists.

“Come with me. We can help build Cybertron together, all of us. I need you to trust me.” You urged softly.

For a moment, you thought you had reached him. His optics softened, and his fists slowly unclenched, his gaze drifting to where your servos held his.

“I don’t want to rebuild Cybertron,”

He slowly scowled, his servos tightened around yours.

“I want to fix it.”

He turned away, leaving you standing in the dust and debris. You coughed, the air thick with smoke, watching him disappear into the distance with Primus knows how many High Guard fliers behind him.

You begin to wonder if you made the right choice. You wanted your D-16 back, but you couldn't bear the death and destruction that came along with Megatron.

As doubt crept in, you realized one terrible truth.

He had already won you over.

Transformers One be like (based on the post first meme template above)

Orion tries to find D-16 to have another talk with him but instead he finds Y/N with Shockwave and Soundwave

"... Orion please close the door."

"Why are there two of them..."

"Orion. The door. Get out and close it."

He can't even say anything. Like he thinks it's weird but it's not like Y/N is selling out the bots or anything so he doesn't really have much ground to stand on in his opinion

HELPP THIS IS SO FUNNY

Trust me EVERYONE knows but they can’t even say anything to Y/N. Like you said, they’re not sharing confidential information or anything. They’re just…little dates.

Maybe a Con HAS tried to use Y/N for information, but eventually…accidentally…fell for their charm. Mission failed, but hey, when are we meeting up again?

Starscream: Oh pretty, won't you tell me what that leader of yours has planned?

Y/N: Dips him into a deep kiss

Starscream: ...

Starscream: Cl-clearly you won't give up information so easily! I must- yes, I must- we need to meet another time... So I can gather information! Yes!

Y/N: Okay ☺️

Starscream is one of those stubborn ones. He wants Y/N so bad

Starscream adopting (kidnapping) a human headcannons

• Absolutely an accident. Scouting excursion gone wrong when he’s spotted and ambushed by quite possibly the two most obnoxious Autobots he’s ever had the displeasure to deal with, Jazz and Bumblebee. Damaged, he’s forced to fly low, darting down a far too narrow forested road in his alt mode with those persistent Autobots right on his aft.

• You’re just in the wrong place at the wrong time, taking a ride through the country in your little sedan. You just needed to get away, relax and destress from home and work. Music cranked as your mind wanders, you almost don’t hear the scream of the jet flying obscenely low, wingtips clipping and shattering tree limbs to rain down on the road.

• When you do notice, your eyes dart up to the rear view mirror and there’s a moment of just flat disbelief, because there’s no way. Then the jet screams over the top of your car so close you swear it scrapes the paint and you’re slamming on the brakes, hauling at the wheel as this bright yellow sports car tears past on your left, a white car right on its fender.

• You never were a fantastic driver, losing control and heading straight into the tree line, head bouncing off the wheel. There’s a sound of thunder, the pounding staccato drowning out the frantic drumming of your heart. No, not thunder. Weapons firing at the jet.

• It’s the saboteur not the scout that manages a direct hit, forcing Starscream to transform and hit the asphalt at a run, staggering and nearly pitching face first into the trees as he turns to return fire. Both Autobots already transformed and no doubt calling for backup.

• Outnumbered, but hardly out gunned. Still, this wasn’t how he had his day planned, baring his denta at the two Autobots and feeling energon dripping along his side. And once their backup showed?

• It’s almost serendipity when you stagger out of your car, concussed and shell shocked to stagger into the road. Between Starscream and the two nuisances. He’d seen the car go off the road, but hadn’t cared about whatever had been inside. Humans, ugh. But Jazz and Bumblebee both stop firing, staring in no small amount of shock at you.

• And there you are, staring up at him with wide eyes. Not screaming. Not running for your squishy, little life, because your brain is definitely shaken, not stirred. All you can do is gape up at the giant, alien robots with guns in dumb silence and wonder if you’re in fact still in the car bleeding out while your damaged brain spins sci-fi nonsense cotton candy in your last moments.

• And the Autobots are holding fire, because of you. To try and not accidentally kill your very unlucky self. Starscream only sees a get out of jail free card, lunging and closing his servos on you, arm extended to hold you out in front of him like a laughably pathetic shield. Except it works. Neither Autobot moves, weapons faltering.

• The panic kicks in, breaking through the pained fog and you struggle against his far too tight grip, but are ignored. Your heart’s hammering against your ribs, tangling with the pain pounding in your addled head. It’s too much, fear twisting inside you as he laughs. The other two alien robots still have their weapons drawn, but they’re pleading that you be let go.

• Starscream’s still laughing as he says, “No.” Injuries screaming at him, he grimaces as he tucks you to his chassis and transforms around you, trapping you inside while he tries very hard to not think about the fact that there’s a nasty, dripping little human inside him as he bolts.

• He keeps you trapped when he returns to base, pinned inside his canopy as he sneaks back to his quarters to dump you into an empty energon cube, because he has no idea what to do with you now. Squishing you to a paste is definitely an option, but as you stare dumbly up at him in shock, still not screaming, he wonders if he might keep you instead. Especially if you can be dangled in front of those idiot Autobots to save his own aft.

• Slowly self preservation shatters the numb terror, letting you look around and actually see your surroundings. You never were that athletic and there’s no climbing out of the clear box he’s dropped you in. But you’re alive. When the big alien that kidnapped you starts muttering and generally lamenting about you, the “Autobots,” and his life in general, you hesitantly agree with him in a hushed voice, because staying on his good side? Probably a good idea for your continued existence.

• He’s shocked, wings lifting slightly as he vents and stares. You… agreed with him? This mech craves validation and you offer it up freely and yes, he’s flustered, before straightening slightly. Because of course you agree, how could you not? So he rants, almost preening when you make little commiserating noises. You’re in turn shocked when he moves across the room to drop a polishing cloth as big as a queen sized sheet on top of you. You’re not sure if it’s an olive branch or not, but you seize upon it with both hands, wrapping the cloth around you to fight off the chill in the metal room and taking the time to run your fingers through your hair to catalog how badly beat up you are.