Haven’t Seen A Lot Of TFA Starscream Content Around Tumblr😢

Haven’t seen a lot of TFA starscream content around tumblr😢

So can I asked TFA starscream x femme human reader who’s like the COMPLETE opposite of him? Sweet, kind, not bratty like him ykyk.

He definitely hates it at first but in all honesty she calms him down🤷🏻‍♀️ oh and could you perchance make this NSFW? Tysm🫶

Love me this bitch - he's definitely out there in terms of fruitiness ngl

He loathes fleshies. Or so he claims. It doesn’t take a genius to realize he’s full of shit. Then again, you lack the self-preservation to avoid him like the plague.

You can’t help yourself, he’s so utterly pathetic yet charming, the prettiest rat in the sewer system. You’ve spent more time than you care to admit hanging around the likes of him. Yeah, he’s annoying and his voice sounds like nails against a chalkboard – but you’ve never had the best taste in men. Or extraterrestrials for that matter.

Through the months spent together, you’ve patiently listened to his frustrations and innumerable plans to depose Megatron and take his rightful place as the new leader of the Decepticons. He doesn’t want a second opinion (and frankly you know better than to offer yours) – and you’ve come to see him for what he truly is: a child desperate for attention. Usually, he’s the one lying next to you, resting his chin on his crossed arms, leaning into your touch as he goes on and on about whatever’s bothering him. He mellows out, eventually. Powering down for a minute or two, only to come back online and pick up where he last left off.

He’s flighty (pun not-intended on your part), always on the move, coming up with new schemes to infodump about for hours on end while stroking your head with his digit. A villain petting his cat while monologuing.

You don’t mind it. Any sane person would, but you don’t. He comes to you insulted Megatron won’t give him the time of day, and you happily give him the attention he craves; caressing his helm until his rambling slows and his voice softens. Things got weird after he admitted your species wasn’t so bad. Was it an attempt at flirtation? You didn’t know enough about Cybertronian courting to recognize the obvious signs. Wings held high – EM field wrapping itself around yours. Humans, as he told you, have a primitive version of it – which makes it all the more impressive he went out of his way to reach for yours. Light as a breeze, yes. But undisputedly there.

Either you’re the chosen one, meant to commute with aliens and establish peace on an intergalactic scale, or (most likely) he’s wasting energy trying to rizz you up the Cybertronian way instead of googling how humans flirt.

Actually – you’re glad he didn’t. Knowing him, he would have stumbled upon “fratboy tips and tricks to bagging gals” and become insufferable as a result.

You’re not sure how you got together – it just happened after days of watching him strut around like a preening peacock,

Your parts are – to put it lightly – completely incompatible. Talk about jamming a brick into a blueberry-sized hole. No human being can survive what he’s packing. But you make it work. There’s more to interface than spike to valve action – or so he told you. And frankly, you have to agree. Exploration is a given considering your anatomical differences. There is little you can cover at your size, which he finds hilarious. Instead, he’s the one running his digits over you, delighting in your softness. Sure, he may be self-absorbed and his favorite subjects involve he, himself and him, but he’s scarily good at analyzing your reactions. Or… maybe you’re just easy to read. Eh, either way, it doesn’t make a difference.

He learns fast, and he’s quick to rub where you’re most sensitive. But it would be nice if he stopped teasing you for once; he makes you beg for it, draws out your pleas until your voice cracks and frustrated tears stream down your face. You could be cruel, give him a taste of his own medicine so to speak. But you’re weak. It only takes a glimpse into his eyes and the faintest prickle of static in his vox to convince you. He knows you cannot satisfy him properly – not that he actually cares.

His spike is warm in your hands, biolights pulsating like stars in the night sky. It takes the slightest kiss for him to dig his claws into the ground and demand you continue. And who are you to refuse? You’ve learned when to pull back lest you swallow too much and get sick, wiping the transfluid from his tip. If he’s noticed this in his sea of pleasure, he’s never mentioned it – too focused on the mouth diligently working his spike.

When he’s feeling generous, he slips a digit inside of you – but if you hiss in discomfort, he switches to rubbing the dull end of his claw across your clit, making you moan against his spike until you’re wet enough to take his digit.

It’s his way of rewarding you, the best “thanks for the orgasm” he can give. He doesn’t last long, but he refuses to stop fingering until you cum and he feels your walls clamp around him.

Once everything is all over, he acts all proud of himself, back to preening like a peacock with you curled up in his lap. For all his faults, Starscream cares in his own unique way.