Kuin An

You lost that little ember of hope on a Decepticon battlefield. Every attempt you made to help the others. To heal, to mend. All of it in vain when the bombs began to rain from above.

Again and again you went out dragging in bots and cons alike to some semblance of safety as the bombs screamed in the sky. You were forced to quit when an Autobot. And old and ancient mech stopped you and pulled you into the shelter. It was his rust colored paint that filled your vision as he gave you some sense of solace.

It was with him you grieved the loss of any hope you had left.

All of this. The wrought and ruin of his own troops, supplies, territory. All of it destroyed for a blind assault on the chance he could kill his enemy.

All of it because Megatron was to much of a coward to face Optimus Prime himself.

You did all you could. Tending to the injured. Helping even the Autobots. Or at least all that would allow you to.

It felt like a life cycle for the bombs to quit falling. Longer still for the metal of Cybertron to settle. And longer for the air to become ventable once again.

You did what you could to lead the injured up and out.

A lot of Decepticons turned their back on the cause after that. Most choosing the neutral path. Not willing to chance facing their brothers and sisters. Friends. Lovers.

Some, like you, pledged yourself to the Autobot cause.

It was on that battlefield that you saw him for the first time.

Optimus Prime.

There was a million and one warning bells going off in your helm the closer he came.

"Are you here to fight, or to stay?" His voice rumbled like distant thunder just before a storm of acid rain. This was the same question he had asked every con before you.

"Stay, I suppose." You spoke after a moment. You had long since torn away the Decepticon insignia. You could still feel the distant ache in your sparkchamber.

A botched job for what should have been the greatest moment in your lifecycle.

It meant nothing now.

"I have heard you helped my troops mech. Is this true?" Blue optics looked you up and down then stopped on your own. For the briefest moment you wondered if he could see you. Truly see you. As if the matrix gave him some supernatural ability to pick apart your very spark.

Cybertronians used to worship Primes.

"I did." You answered. "And I will continue to do so. If you allow. Optimus Prime." A grin split his lips when you were done speaking.

"If you are willing then yes.." He trailed off.

"Y/n sir." The Prime tilted his helm. Mouthed your name.

"Y/n." Something about the way he spoke it sent your spark pounding. Your takes turning.

Megatron sounded like that once.

Just before everything went to slag in a hand basket.

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That wasn't the last time you saw the Autobot leader. And it certainly wouldn't be the last.

"Y/n! Mech! Pay attention slaggit!" Ratchet's voice was right in your audio receptor. His servos moved with more efficiently than you have ever seen in any mech or femme. It was supernatural, almost, to watch.

The two of you were elbow deep in a mech. The damned frontliner decided to play hero.

You could have sworn you had seen Optimus. There in a window that the assistant has forgotten to close.

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"He's damned good. For a con." Ratchet would both praise and poke at you at the same time. "I'm glad he's on our side though."

You were proud with where you were at the moment. You had built a reputation for yourself. Worked in a place that made your skills worth something. You worked with bots that wouldn't have your helm for just venting wrong near them.

You caught a snippets of Ratchets and Ironhides conversation from where you were organizing field kits. Restocking and filing inventory on this had fallen to you after a while.

Well. You were until Optimus came spilling in. Energon flowed freely onto the floor where it really shouldn't have been.

Two mechs carried him in. You were quick to clear a med berth off. Already you were in the process of cleaning when Ratchet began barking orders

Time to show Ironhide those skills Ratchet was bragging about.

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Sometime later and what seemed like an obscene amount of energon, Optimus was deemed stable. Currently he was sleeping off the anesthetics.

"Will you keep an optic on him and tell me when he wakes kid?" You looked up from the data pad you were typing on when Ratchet spoke. "I have some reports I need to finish and I need to plan some care for when he wakes up." You waved a servo.

"I've got it Ratchet. Go do what you need to." With a heavy sigh he left. Muttering about Primes being stupid and self sacrificing for no good Primus damned reason.

You went back to restocking field kits. You needed something to do with your servos while you waited for him to wake up.

Which wasn't much longer after you finished. The Prime woke with a start. Bolting upright as he took in where he was. Some part of his processer still stuck out there on the feild.

It was only after he swing his legs over the side of the berth did you walk towards him.

"Prime. You need to stay laying down. If you get up now you could re open the welds me and Ratchet placed." Your voice was low. Soothing. The same voice you have used a thousand times over for Decepticon coming out of general anesthetics. At least this time you were greeted with a look rather that blaster fire.

Really. Megatron should have implemented some sort of psychiatric treatment for his troop.

Optimus said nothing as you walked up to him. Slowly you placed one servo on his shoulder. "I need to check on the welds before I go and get Ratchet. Are you ok with that or do you want me to get him to do it?" You always gave them the option. Some still didn't trust you. Former Decepticon and all.

"You may." The Prime leaned back slightly. His legs spreading further apart as he balanced himself. You said nothing other than giving him a nod before going to check the welds across his abdomen.

The welds looked ok. And they were still holding up despite the fact he decided to spring up off the berth. You took the opportunity to glance at the ones on his arms. Then checking the cabling at his neck that had become undone.

You froze for a moment when he leant forward. Slumping as if suddenly overcome by fatigue. Out of reflex you caught him by the shoulers. Bracing him as he fell forward. Optimus's helm fell on your shoulder. His servo brushing against your hip and thigh.

"Slaggit! Prime are you ok?" You pushed back on him. Righting the blue colored Prime. "Are you dizzy? Any pains that we were not aware of?" You looked over his face plates. Looking for the drain of nanites and fuzzy unfocused optics.

Nothing.

"I am fine. Just." He paused. "Apologies, Y/n. I did not mean to cause concern." There. Again. That same look he gave you on the battlefield sometime ago.

"Are you sure? It is no issue. I can go get Ratchet. He wanted me to get him after you woke anyways." A slight flicker on his face plates. A sort of, annoyance? Then.

"Get him if you must. Ratchet is my CMO for a reason." It wasn't until you pulled away did you realize Optimus's servo had been on your waist that entire time. Only did you know when you pulled away and his digits grazed along the dark grey plating.

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You felt like you were going insane. Someone was leaving you gifts. It wouldn't have been so bad if it wasn't for the fact it was inside your habsuit on your berth.

They were the things you liked. Sweetened energon candies. A very specific polish you thought you would never find again. There was even a praxian crystal rose at one point. Who would give that away to a former Con you would never know. After the fall of Praxus they had become scarce.

You saw Optimus a few times after he had been discharged from the med bay. He came a few times afterwards to keep the welds in check and to make sure the new cabling in his throat had took.

You had been the one to check on the welds after a while. And to make sure the Prime had proper movement in his left arm. The one that you were now currently holding and moving to ensure fluid movement in the shoulder joint.

There was that look again. Like he was staring into your very soul. You felt that if you bared your spark chamber you would feel less exposed.

"And this? Any pain, aches?" The Prime rumbled out a laugh. Not once had he looked away from you.

"No. Truly, it is fine. You've done a very good job." You could feel your faceplates warm. Not use to any type of praise.

"It was hardly all me. Ratchet did the bulk of it." Optimus humed. Pulling his arm away. His digits brushed against your chassis before they settled in his lap. He flexed his palms and you couldn't help but to look.

Only to sputter a cough before he looked up. Almost getting caught ogling the Primes thighs.

"Still. You have done good. I am grateful to have such a skilled mech on our side. Your skills are valued here, y/n." He spoke your name with an intensity.

The two of you locked optics for a moment. The Prime almost drawing you in. He servo rose and hovered next to yours. You swore he almost would have taken it in his if it weren't for Ratchet calling him to his office.

The look that covered his facelates looked almost murderous. You had stepped back when he did that. And the look had fallen almost as quickly as it had came. Filled with a different, almost fearful look at your reaction.

The Prime rose and left. Giving you one last look before going to meet Ratchet. When you glanced back down to the berth you felt you tanks turned.

There, in the center of the berth, was a singular Praxian rose. The one that twined the other currently beneath your berth.

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You said nothing about it to anyone. Instead quickly taking it and placing it within your subspace before Ratchet or any of the other medics or assistants could notice.

When Optimus left he had caught your optic then glanced at the berth the rose had been on. When he noticed it was gone and how quickly you had looked away. He smiled.

That night you had went to your habsuit shaken. Placing the rose with the other things you had been given.

Was. Was Optimus the one doing this? It would make sense seeing as how he would be one of the few with the proper codes to get into your habsuit.

But why? Why you? And was it really you?

You didn't fall into recharge that night. And you were in a daze for the next day cycle. Ratchet having reprimanded you more than once for your forgetfulness.

You nearly dropped the glass vials holding nanites when you saw him in the window looking into the supply closet. Optimus had studied you briefly before leaving.

You didn't move for many klicks. Servos shaking as you tried to calm yourself.

The next few days went the same. Catching Optimus in the corner of your optics every time you turned. It made you jumpy. Skittish. You began to pull away from the bots you had made friends with. Even to Ratchet who seemed to be concerned. But he said nothing. Did nothing other than lay his servo on your shoulder and give you the most sympathetic look you had ever seen.

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"Y/n. Prime needs you in his office." You glanced up dumbly to the femme that had called your name. You had been in the rec room watching some old holo vids Toptwist had put on. A chorus of oohs had filled the room. Most of the bots acting like you had just been called to the headmaster's office in the academy.

Instead you swallowed thickly and nodded your helm at the femme.

You're frame is shaking the entire walk down the hall. Your mind was racing.

Did you do something wrong? If so then what? As far as you knew you were doing everything Ratchet needed you to. You didn't cause any problems with the others. No matter how much you wanted to throttle some of them when they wouldn't stop fragging you over just because you used to be a Con.

Is that why? Did some mech of femme complain about you being a former Decepticon?

You didn't want to lose what you had here. To much. It. You had finally found a reason to keep fighting. The Autobots they held up the ideals that the Decepticons used to have.

You don't think you would be able to quit this. Not without some consequence on your mental health. You needed this.

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You stopped before the door to Optimus Primes office. You didn't know if you should com him or knock on the door. In the end you chose the latter. Fisted servo hovering before the engraved metal door for a klick before you knocked.

Ice flooded your frame. Something. Something spoke to you about this being a bad idea. That you should turn. Run.

Instead you ignored that millennia forged instinct.

"Enter." Optimus's voice sounded from the other side of the door after you knocked. The door sliding open and closing behind you quickly when you stepped inside.

His office was quaint. Small. There were odds and ends decorating shelves. A few organic plants here and there that looked well taken care of. It was such a rare sight to see. The war on Cybertron and rendered all organic life null. Unable to grow in such an hostile enviroment.

There were data pads from floor to roof on one wall. Suddenly you remember that the great Prime was just once a simple archivist in Iacon.

"There's no need to stand near the door, dear Y/n. I promise. You are not in any trouble here." Your helm snaps from the shelves of data pads and towards the Prime sitting at his desk. It was cluttered with data pads and reports. A few trinkets here and there. There was even a floating holo screen of what you assumed was him and a few other bots in one corner.

"I was told you needed me sir?" You strode to the center of the room. Just before the Primes desk. He smiled and shook his helm before rising from his seat.

"Please. There is no need for formalities here. I am just Optimus. " The Prime rounded the side of his desk before leaning against the side of it. Crossing his arms over his chassis.

You swallowed thickly. Finding yourself falling into a parade rest. "I was told you needed me, Optimus?" You repeated the question with his name instead. He gave a small laugh when he looked over at you.

"I meant it when I said there was no need for formalities Y/n. Please." Optimus pushed himself away from the desk as you made an attempt to stand comfortably. It was a little awkward.

Optimus stopped before you by less that a foot. You had to raise you helm to look him in the optics. You were not exactly a small mech but you reached just below the Primes chin.

"But yes. I did want you down here. I wanted to discuss something with you." His servo rose. The palm of his servo hovering just next to your helm before settling firmly on your shoulder. You couldn't help but look to that servo. Then to him as he began talking once again. "I have heard you've done good work here. And i'm proud of the fact that you are." The servo fell then digits hooked just below your chin.

Your spark began pounding in your chest. "I expect you have met my gifts well?" You optics widden and you pull away from those digits.

"That was you?" Your voice rose slightly at the end. At least that was a conformation. Whether or not it set you at ease was debatable to say the least.

"Of course. I'm sorry I couldn't deliver them in person though. I didn't need the others thinking I was playing favorites." His optics looked your faceplates over. His glossa darted out to wet his lips. "I find you to be the most brilliant mech I have had the honour to have in my troops yet. Y/n I have been hung over you since the moment I saw you." His servos cup either side of your helm. The size of them almost engulfing you.

"There is something addicting about you. I have yet to lay my servo on it. But. I wish to have you, if you will." His thumb brushed along your bottom lip. His optics following the movement of his thumb as he did this. "Of course we will have to keep this secret for a while. But I do not mind." His voice was low. Almost rattling in your chassis from how close he was now.

Chassis to chassis. Touching. So close. If the two of you were to slide the metal away. Surely your sparks would touch. The gesture here. Now. It was intimate.

Suffocating.

"Sir we can't. Its." Optimus's face darkened.

"Optimus. Please. Call me Optimus." His servos fell and once reached down to grab yours. He brought it up to his lips and layed a kiss on your scarred knuckles. His optics were on you the entire time. Blown wide with. Attraction? Lust? "And we can. The others will learn to deal with it."

Something pleasurable flooded your field when his wrapped over yours. Your processer fogged and you didn't know what to do. "Optimus I." You stopped when that pleasure flooded over you again. You legs shook and before you knew it you were moving. Your legs hit the desk and one moment you were standing. The next you were sitting. Optimus's servos wrapped around your thighs as he lifted yo up and onto it.

For a moment the fog lifted and you looked up to see a loopy grin on the Primes faceplates.

"Oh you look stunning just like that. I wonder if I could make you make that face again." He was between your legs. His servo traveled from your thigh and over your hip. It sprawled out over your stomach plating and up your chassis. His digits dipped in seems and pulled at wires that had a heat pooling below.

You whimper when his lips finally connecting with yours. Shivers running down your frame as he moves fervently. His servos cradle your helm as he does this. Drawing you in close. You servos find his wrists. You didn't know if you wanted to pull him away or hold him there so he would keep going.

He did leave you those gifts. It. It makes sense that he wouldn't do it in person. Right?

Right?

The two of you pull away with heated breaths. A string of fluid following your lips before breaking apart.

Your faceplates felt hot. Your vents where going rapidly. Trying to cool your heated frame.

Optimus lent in again and again. Laying kiss after kiss until he found your neck. Nibbling and sucking along the cabling there. You shiver and shook at the assault. Your frame reacting pleasantly to what he was doing.

"Such sweet sounds you are making. I wonder if you will sing the same while on my spike." His hips rolled as he said this. His servo landed on top of your interface array. "Please? My Y/n please?" Optimus spoke breathlessly. His helm pressed to yours. Your nose bumping against his as he moved to press another kiss to your lips. "For me? Please?"

And you did. Your array springing open and revealing your spike and valve to the room.

"The. The door. Is it locked?" You asked.

"Mmm? Yes." Optimus told you. His digits fluttering over your valve. A whimper left your lips as he teased you. Digits skimming over your valve. Your aching node to tease your weeping spike. "Look at you. Is all this for me?" He pressed a kiss to your chin.

"Yeah." You spoke. "Yeah. Just for you." A low moan left you when he sunk his digits within you. Digits curling as he pumped them in and out of you. He moved slowly. Gathering the fluid that left you and spreading his digits apart to slowly ease you into taking his spike.

He didn't want to hurt you after all. Not after waiting for so long. And not with you being so nice and willing.

You almost cried when those cleaver digits left you. Only for you to give a shudder when he put those same digits in his mouth. Glossa working around and between his digits tasting everything you had to offer.

"You taste sweeter than I thought you would be Y/n." He humed as his own interface array pulled away. He gave is own spike a few languid strokes before placing it between your shaking legs. "Relax. I will not hurt you." The tip of his spike pressed into you. "Relax my y/n." He guided himself within you. Moving slowly. He briefly pulled back at one point before sliding forward.

Optimus paused when he was fully seated within you. Giving his hips a few experimental rolls as he watched you come completely undone beneath him.

He was absolutely enthralled with the way you threw your helm back when he began to move. He happily complied with your pleas of more. Harder. Just like that.

You were being so good. So kind after all. How was he not to do what you asked when you were doing such a good job. He even told you as much.

"Look at you. Being such a good mech for me. You are taking me so well my y/n." His hips stuttered when he felt you squeeze around him from the praise. "You are taking my spike so good. You pretty valve feels so nice. So good. Gripping my spike so." He paused when he felt pleasure rack through him when you squeezed him once again.

Optimus was sure to note this in the back of his helm for future fragging sessions.

He could feel his overload coming and coming quickly. And if the way your were keening and moaning. Chanting his name so sweetly. Well, he knew yours was close as well.

Optimus rolled his field over yours and watched as you threw your helm back. Static spitting out of your vocalizer as you overloaded and over loaded hard. Your frame falling pliant under his servos.

Optimus found his soon after you. Pulling you close and leaning on your body.

He was sure to bring you into his habsuit. Cleaning your dirtied frame. Optimus took in the welled energon on your neck cabling. The slight paint transfer around your thighs from your coupling.

concubus! yan! tailgate is as delusional as they get. he thinks his natural charm and attractive aura means everyone loves him no matter what. he's never had trouble making friends or attracting berthmates. he has had trouble not being taken advantage of, but that's a minority of his experiences. so with all that, you must love him! every glance and fleeting touch is a reminder that you're his sparkmate. it isn't that he purposefully bumps into you or is always engaging with you to inhance your attraction to him. no... tailgate would never... okay, yeah. he does.

he quite often accidentally gets you horny and makes you overload behind your panel. he just doesn't think to control his abilities when you're around. it's instinctive so it must mean it's good, yeah? besides, he's giving you pleasure! there's no need to be embarrassed. he'd love nothing more than to have you slide back your interface panel so he could clean you up himself. he's really good with his glossa and servos! everyone tells him that.

he's insanely possessive when other concubus are present. their charm tries to lead you away from his, even if it isn't purposeful. it leads to him nagging you for your attention, pulling at any limbs he can get a hold of to lead you away from them. he'll resort to his most devastating ability if you refuse to listen (about anything): pouting. it's impossible to focus when he starts doing so.

he immediately perks up when you finally give in and return your affections to him.

for obvious reasons your interactions with rodimus are limited. tailgate's possessiveness may be warranted around him. rodimus has been known to attract plenty of cybertronians that are already bonded and in monogamous relationships. so if he isn't even bonded to you yet (officially), you're super vulnerable to the prime's sex appeal!

after getting diagnosed with cybercrosis, he's super-duper attached to you. he's firm in his belief that he'll transfer over what's left in his spark right before he goes offline so you can become a concubus. even if he isn't thrilled at the idea of you having other romantic relationships outside of him, and maybe cyclonus, he knows it'll be for your own good. that way you'll always have him in you.

what he didn't expect is that cyclonus and you refused to let him fade away. he's never felt so loved. he was so adamant on making sure you could handle his death, seeing as how the fatality rate was a hundred percent, that he didn't think the both of you would work together non-stop to save him. by doing that, you unknowingly accepted his concubus bond. oopsies.

it isn't as if you should be upset or anything! he knew you'd come around eventually. you must have been planning it because what's more romantic than to save his life and bond yourself to him?

concubus! yan! tarn has always prided himself on his self-restraint. megatron made him the mech he is today, tamed his concubus nature and made him into something that was to be feared, not preyed upon. yet all training is muted when he laid his optics on you. he almost activated his outlier ability so he could seize everybody's spark but yours. then he could take you in peace. your frame trembling as he threatened you to give in. he didn't. he held his composure, but all he could envision was guzzling down your transfluid like a starving concubus.

perhaps that isn't far from the truth. his work doesn't permit him to play with his food, so he receives it pre-packaged. it's nothing like fresh supply, straight from the source.

tarn is nothing if not devoted. the decepticons have always come first. now you have to be part of the cause because that's the only way he can reconcile his feelings without betraying megatron or depriving himself of you.

it goes one of two ways.

if you're his superior, then he's your new lapdog. yes, he is ultimately loyal to megatron, but a leash can trade servos while the collar stays the same. his outlier ability is used on you sparingly, unless he's given permission otherwise, but he can't help but revel in momentarily breaking your composure. that flush on your faceplate combined with the arousal wafting off of you is irresistible. it makes him wet enough that he has to press his legs together, paranoid that lubricant will escape his sealed panel.

knowing he can make your spark hum gets him off. the one being he can explore his abilities with. he learns that he can do more than make a spark quiver or self-destruct. he can influence one's frame responses through their spark. he's learned what frequency makes you horny.

being tugged around while knowing that he isn't at risk of being offlined is equally tantalizing. you're someone he can blindly trust, right below megatron. you say "kill," and he executes your will unflinchingly. it's brutal in an attempt to impress you. he can't afford mistakes when he's working to feed off you.

he always sets the mood with music before taking your frame. he's always precise in his movements, careful in deciphering your wants and needs without you voicing them. you're a finely tuned instrument that he masterfully plays. each sound of yours is a note for him to savor as he plucks another string to hear it again.

when he hasn't quite earned you, he ends up humping you, mask off, as he promises that he'll listen to your every command before he releases.

if you're beneath him, an autobot, or a lowly traitor, then you may as well name him your purgatory. you will be trapped by his voice and servos till either of your sparks is snuffed out.

he waited till you were alone to capture you. you may be someone he is bound to offline, but he can push your name down the list as he makes use of you. a captive fresh supply of transfluid.

you are no longer what you were. you are subsistence.

he causes you dolor, then feasts on you till your frame gives out. he often invades your recharging processor, never letting you overload. whenever you've displeased him, he edges you until he finds that you're sufficiently apologetic. if that doesn't please him, then making your spark tremor in your chassis is sure to.

if you are good, very good, then he may move you to a chained-up state in either his office or habsuite. you will be in quite a compromising position for easy access. he expects you to speak only when spoken to. if you manage to behave and take his abuse well, then perhaps he'll think about giving you a privilege or two. you may be able to walk around or attend DJD meetings, chained up and muzzled, obviously. don't think that makes you any safer from him. he'll punish you in the hallway or in front of his entire crew so you know not to misuse what you have so graciously been given.

no one else acknowledges you, unless on the rare occasion tarn instructs them to. they are discouraged from even making optic contact with you, much less conversing. on the occasion, nickel tends to you. don't attempt to gain her pity. you may as well be a supply of energon she's making sure doesn't spoil—and, well, you are.

he has marked you since your first capture and will play with the idea of bonding you to him. it will happen. it isn't a privilege you've earned yet.

he is sure that you'll never escape. any traitors that would attempt to aid you in any way can be quickly taken care of. he's well connected, so you wouldn't be able to run far. others knowing that you're marked by him will make your chances of escaping and staying out exceptionally slim.

he never lets you forget who you belong to. you are a thing of pleasure. something that he needs to live. and you thrive off of his commands, especially one little word—overload.

transformers prime 𖹭 soundwave

concubus! yan! soundwave isn't a transformer that you'd believe to hold such a power. he doesn't seek connection. he controls, stalks, and takes. that's what makes him so menacing. you only realize he's obsessed with you after he has you in his grasp. a grasp that will never loosen, because he knows what happens to things that leave his optic sight.

he has always kept his concubus nature a tightly held secret: living off of others getting off to him, taking their essence, erasing their memories of him, and keeping tabs in case he has to seek them out again. despite all of the advantages of being a concubus, he sees the alienation in how he survives to be his biggest weakness.

if all other beings seek to dominate your kind, you must dominate them first.

he chooses you not because of your status or ability. he chooses you because you align with the compatibility algorithm he created. one would be quick to overlook you without a second thought, but soundwave is monitoring you more heavily than anyone else inside the decepticon ranks, besides starscream, but that's an unfortunate necessity.

he has entire banks of data stored pertaining to you, meticulously cataloged and encrypted so heavily that it'd take millions of years for the smartest cybertronian hacker to infiltrate them, only to see them erase themselves as if the data was nothing more than a mirage.

you become his main food source, with shockwave being secondary—seeing as how he managed to create a mutual agreement in the slim chance that innumerable factors come into play and you cannot satiate him for an amount of time.

he orders you to him under false pretenses. then explains what will happen and how you will comply. you wouldn't want him to release all the files he has on you, especially the ones that could indicate treason, or when you pleasured yourself. he takes stock of your entire frame in an isolated place, not for your comfort but for his protection. no passerby need be privy to this.

he uses his data cables to open your valve. he measures your spike and tests its dexterity. your intake is probed, so is your aft, your entire frame really—but your most sensitive parts are given extra attention. he lists your fertility and willingness as factors too. all the while he's recording the entire thing, taking snapshots so he can review them later.

he can sense you becoming aroused. as well as your shame because you don't think of him as a sexual being. he's also your superior, and here you are trying not to pant or drip lubricant. it's normal. you should know that. but he would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't taking his time, perhaps to an irresponsible extent, just to get you riled up. only to leave you aching and ready but alone so he can record your reactions and take any samples you leave. yes, he has tasted your transfluid before. you aren't always thorough in cleaning up your messes; a sloppiness that shouldn't be tolerated but happens to be convenient for him.

the room he monitors from now requires multiple forms of identification instead of a code and a quick scan. this is because he quite often has your frame in use. the fuller you are of him, the better he performs. any data cables not in use are buried inside you. he's had specialized ports installed on your frame just for him. if you aren't being penetrated in multiplicity, then soundwave must be incredibly busy. you become an extension of him, almost like one of his cassettes. you know pleasure, refueling, and rest, but not much else. clear thought would allow you to scheme. you are much more useful to him blissfully submissive. if he could mould you to his frame, he would.

transformers: super-god masterforce 𖹭 diver, lander, metalhawk, phoenix

concubus! yan! diver is the reason stories of sirens exist, partially. as much as he yearned for a cybertronian sparkmate, he had to settle for surviving on organics. unlike any concubus aquatic pretender destron counterparts, diver never harmed those he lulled into the ocean. he worshipped the humans he seduced, mindful of their fleshy nature.

he has to admit that his hunger was never fully satiated, even when he interfaced with his fellow cybertron pretenders. his spark yearned for something more. hundreds of thousands of years on earth, and he didn't know what until he met you. you were part of an in-space unit and, at chromedome's request, came to help the cybertrons on earth defeat the destrons. if seeing you for the first time and feeling buzzed off your e.m. field wasn't enough, learning that your alt-mode functioned best in the water was all he needed to confirm that you were made to be his.

throughout his time on earth, he's preserved their oceans. now all he can think about is how much he wants to defile you in one of them.

his easy-going personality is easy to be disarmed by. he isn't isolating you from the others. he just needs a lot of help, and you're a new pair of servos that can do just that. he often forgets that you can still sense his human frame's reaction to you, even if it's somewhat muted. he plays it off as normal biology. you don't know organics, so who are you to argue? him drooling after staring at you for too long is just a quirk of his. he truly doesn't mean to come off as creepy. it's just that he hasn't seen his own kind habitually in their root mode for such a long time.

he insists that you work with him at the ocean research institute of california. you both can dispel water-related problems together!

he will info dump for hours on end to you about the sea and its creatures. it always ends up with him in his root mode, rutting against you while he struggles to think of words to form on his glossa. he won't stop unless you tell him to, so he keeps babbling and overloading and getting high off you. he's a big whiner when he gets lost in you. he's popped his voice box more than once because of it.

sunbathing with him almost always ends up with him spooning you, slipping his spike into you, or your spike into his valve. he loses it if both his array parts are being used at the same time.

other times he'll coax you into the ocean. he only gives when he interfaces with you in the ocean. he'll go as far as to have a conversation with you where he wants you restrained so he can do as he likes.

fisting and stretching are his other two favorite pastimes. he always makes sure you're adequately prepped. he also finds that the transfluid you produce when being stretched tastes the yummiest. seeing your valve being able to take his entire servo will make him overload while his panel is still sealed. managing to get cybertronian sex toys onto earth to stretch you is—not easy, to say the least. but his status as a concubus makes it much easier. even if he somehow has to come up with a lie that he isn't going to be using them on you, the new cybertron on earth, who is also his comrade and who he is definitely not supposed to be fragging.

concubus! yan! lander is the epitome of pleasure. he was taken aback by humanity's capacity for it. the freedom in it that humans have been able to find, even during war, which is something he could not relate to until he learned from them.

his concubus allure extends far past his species. his human form is irresistible, leading to him constantly attracting lovers when not busy with battle. all of this still felt moot at the end of the day. like many other concubus know, no species can quench their hunger quite like their own. his hunger is far greater than other concubuses he's known, which makes it all the more torturous.

then he met you. a pretender who was only supposed to transport materials to them. he knew that he had to have you. he convinced command that your abilities would be far better suited on earth. they need backup anyway. you so easily slide into his amative hold. he so graciously helps acquaint you with your organic body, explaining to you the more carnal reasons as to why it's reacting the way it is around him.

no need to be shy.

he often invites you to his penthouse in new york city. he isn't subtle about his attraction to you but doesn't push it unless you show interest. he takes you nice and slow in front of one of his many windows, hoping someone out there will look up and make out your silhouettes. there is no shame in it. after you've been thoroughly fucked, he takes great care of you, pouring one of his vintage wines and offering you a glass.

he's determined to know all your forms intimately, especially your root one. there's nothing better than squeezing his valve around your spike or burying it into you as he holds your frame against his. there's so much earth to show you and plenty of places to frag.

you're often subjected to questions about your sexual preferences casually. he states that he's just curious. you both know he intends to turn those curiosities into servos-on experience. he never brings it up in polite company, unless murmuring them to you so you fluster. your embarrassed e.m. field is so irresistible. only when he's the cause of it.

he never really had an interest in bonding until he connected with you. marking? oh, absolutely, and he definitely leaves plenty of marks on you. still, the sentimentality of such a long process. having a conjunx. only you seem to fit into that role. you keep him from hungering, so much so that he'd bet he spends more time fragging you in every position than in active combat. his favorite position will always be elevated lotus.

considering he is the physically strongest out of the autobot pretenders, he's well experienced at keeping you in your place and mechhandling you. taming you is even better. controlling your pleasure drives him wild. submit and let him do what he needs. he may influence you to if you're hesitant. he knows you need it. you're apprehensive, but he'll prove all your skepticism extraneous.

training sessions with him often get hot and heavy. he insists they be private. he does actually attempt to train. you teach him things he didn't know. it's just that you smell so good—look so appealing. sparring with you feels inherently erotic.

trust him. he's better with his body in bed than on the battlefield. you've already experienced that. him being an engineer helps with wire play, which he is also quite fond of. he wants to tinker with your frame just a bit without your knowledge. to make you more sensitive.

you may become bonded to him and not even realize it until he explains it to you. he's so stimulating in presence that you don't realize the new things you're feeling are because of the bond. perhaps he purposefully made it that way. he can't take the chance to let his sparkmate escape. if you knew what truly goes on in his processor, you would've run while you still had the chance.

concubus! yan! metalhawk would choose you over humanity, which is his greatest shame but also his greatest pride. a cybertronian that strikes his spark deeper than the beauty of humanity...

you truly must be a blessing unto him. he's convinced.

a fellow pretender no less, put under his leadership by an off-earth cybertron commander. he isn't sure whether he wants to frag you in your human form or cybertronian form first. in the beginning, he only feels guilt. he should take his time to know you before daydreaming about all the ways he could lovingly take you, drinking from what you produce for him.

shuta immediately picks up on his crush and teases him relentlessly about it. the news spreads to the other headmaster juniors, and now they're playing matchmaker between you and him. you don't understand human dating rituals, thankfully, so for the most part, he can avoid the truth around you.

the other pretenders are more wary of metalhawk's sudden attachment to you. they know he's a concubus. they're in the middle of a great rise in evil. they can't afford their leader to be distracted by his biology.

he partners you with the other pretenders because he can't stop himself from trying to court you while you're in his presence. he needs to nuzzle onto you, taste your e.m. field and organic skin. he craves your metal frame against his, frotting against you, eating you out and sucking you off for so long that your transfluid is dribbling out of his intake.

it's more than that too. he wants to spikewarm while you speak about your past and what you want in your future. he craves the deepest and most depraved things hidden in your processor. all the while he whispers about how much he loves you, how you belong to him and he to you, the fact that he'll never let you go. if you pleaded with him, he would, and that terrifies him. the thought that you could abandon him on a whim.

his persuasive energy will invade your senses more frequently. he swears he doesn't mean it to! he needs it to be your choice, but his nature demands results instead of foolhardy patience.

he'd cut off his own wings if he began to need to trap you. he'd mutilate his frame till there was no lust left if it meant keeping your amity intact.

he just can't stop doubting, even when you let him touch you. when you say you need him to frag you, he momentarily hesitates. his confident exterior cracks to reveal a spark that doesn't know if your attraction is true or a product of his concubus influence.

when you touch him—crave him—he forgets until you're gone his doubts. he never takes more than you give. he gives so much more than he takes, or would ever take. his affections have been withheld for so long. you're the catalyst he's able to release them through.

you soon learn that he has a tiny breeding kink. something he has never allowed himself to indulge in due to the circumstances he lives in. he's seen so much life begin that he can't help but want to produce it as well. his servos always grasp your abdomen and chassis when he takes you. his processor imagines you slowly growing big and round from the sparks you're growing inside you. how he would protect and provide for you. your frame would never ache because he'd always be there to ease it.

you're the reason he so recklessly gives over his leadership to ginrai. someone more focused on the cause needs to lead. it gives him more time with you.

there's more time to explore the unique things his frame can do to you and you to it. he'll always prematurely overload if you play with his wings. thanks to his shining arrow technique, he's been able to harness that energy into setting it course through your frame, making you more horny and stimulated. he can't help but give a little jolt to your valve's nodes; seeing your faceplate contort in pleasure makes him leaky in all the right places. his digits sparking against your spike never cease to have you heavily venting, frame trembling. the transfluid you produce from those ministrations is more filling as well, not that he has a particular preference. it all comes from you.

concubus! yan! phoenix may be the pretender team's communications officer, but he still struggles to confess his infatuation for you. he has always been left in the background: a valued team member but not one that has the spotlight. humans look over him in favor of lander's sex appeal or metalhawk's charisma; even diver has this weird charm that gets him dates. phoenix is always the one night that you can never remember the name of. all you remember is that he gave you an orgasm that you'll never get again.

he's stuck on the german airstrip, which is really isolating. there are very few humans that are honestly turned on by him rambling about code-breaking.

he spent such a long time on earth that he forgot there were other options. non-pretender cybertronian options. when he first heard your vocalizer over the comms, he was pleasantly surprised. learning you were joining their team as a headmaster was a double pleasant surprise. you being interested in his ramblings was triple the pleasantness. knowing that you were going to be stationed near him was four times too much for him to handle.

he daydreamed about your e.m. field and frame while awaiting your arrival. he almost forgot his manners, struggling to keep his hands to himself. slipping into his cybertronian form, your transtector is bigger than he is. that's insanely attractive. but he wants to feel the cybertronian inside it even more.

knowing your original frame is small enough to be able to frag his human form has him feeling hot in the middle of a german winter.

he may seem gruff but really isn't as soon as he opens his mouth. he does his best to impress you. he wants to please you in any way he can. he needs to get you. you're the signal he needs to catch.

when he looks at you, his organic throat runs dry. he coughs and blushes, eyes anywhere but on you. he can talk with you on general things, but anything about love gets him tongue-tied. he better speaks through his actions. he wants to frag you well and good, but no, that insecure part of him doesn't want to be another one-night stand. even if it means you'd never forget the orgasms he gave you.

he's determined to get you to fall in love with him before he frags you. easier said than done. you so effortlessly get him hard. he doesn't think he's ever had to self-service more. against his better judgment, he'll do it in places where you could find him. part of him just wants you to see it and come onto him so he can readily accept and make you weep in ecstasy with his words alone. when he gets going, he can drag multiple overloads out of someone with just his voice.

he's not quiet either when he self-services or frags. if you hear him and give him space, like most would do, he'll know. he can feel it. it hurts. it hurts because you're being polite when he wishes you wouldn't. he needs you to take charge of him so he can take charge of you.

a conversation could fix this relationship or break it. he's not willing to take the risk. he'll make sure you're isolated as much as possible. you only have him, and he's the best thing you could have.

transformers: victory 𖹭 deathsaurus, star saber

concubus! yan! deathsaurus takes what he wants but isn't a brute about it. he saw you and knew he needed to have you at least once. as his loyal soldier, you certainly wouldn't deny him such a thing. deathsaurus marks all of his prey, so every single destron will know deathsaurus fed from you. it inspires awe as well as jealousy. the few other concubus within the destron ranks will also seek you out as a meal. if you are good enough for their supreme commander, then you must really taste good. deathsaurus doesn't share, but that doesn't stop greedy servos from grabbing at you.

it was supposed to be a one-off, lust-fueled, fragging session that left him stuffed. instead, he began to crave more. seeing his soldiers attempt to get you under their allure disgusted him so deeply that he had their sparks carved out and turned into new accessories for his breast animals. he'll ask you if you like them, daring you to question where they came from. at least that takes care of one of your problems as well as one of his...

he seeks you out again, this time in a more public place: a common room. he whispers dirty things into your audials and reassures you that it's fine if anyone sees. he's buried deep into you by the time leozack comes up to him, probably with another bumbling plan that will end in an energon-splattered failure. the second-in-command is undeniably aroused, which only causes deathsaurus to smirk and revel. he calls him off, enjoying the way your valve clenches around one of his spikes in embarrassed prurience.

as so many things come in threes, like his spikes, it's your third time together that seals your fate as his consort. it wasn't planned. he was needy but too prideful to express so. he held a meeting and demanded certain mechs attend. you were late. you weren't, technically. everyone just arrives early. but that isn't an excuse. he doesn't tolerate disrespect of his orders. so he orders his breast animals to drag you to the throne room. you faintly smell of another destron, traces of their e.m. field lingering on yours.

in that moment he required you, so he could seal your bond with him. so you'd never be late again. a step further. you'd never be away from his side unless he allowed it, which would be rarer than the cybertrons besting the destrons. he ordered you up to his throne, on your knees before him. he had you suck off each of his spikes in front of all those that were ordered to attend. he had you slide your interface panel back so his pede could press into your array components.

you were so wet and pressurized for him in front of so many troops. truly vent-taking.

he commands them all to leave when he finally takes you. he asks you if you're truly loyal to him. if this is the path you'll choose. he could've chosen anyone to bond with, but he chose you. he would've felt his spark fracture if you had said no. he would've just sent you off, leaving you marked as his occasional meal, eventually being led on a suicide mission because you would've been a liability that he couldn't entirely account for.

luckily, you accepted. and he soothed any worries you had about the others not respecting you after they saw you in such a degrading position. it was, but it wasn't. you get to touch him—please him. you get to be with him.

he wants you to feel ashamed because you displeased him, not because lower soldiers saw you do so. you now hold power over all of them. only as much as he allows, but still.

you're his consort now.

you get to take his multiple spikes, fill his two valves, and perhaps even spark up his gestation chambers.

is that not an honor only you get? rhetorical, of course it is.

you never want as his consort. perhaps ache for freedom and recharge for your overly-fragged frame, but not much else. no matter the times star saber and the cybertrons attempt to save you from "deathsaurus's influence," you'll always stay with the destrons and valiantly fight against the cybertrons until your last intake. you know the truth about him. the crushing grip of his claws will never be enough to offline you, because you help give him life and the strength to conquer the universe.

concubus! yan! star saber is professional and self-sacrificing by spark, so very few know of his concubus status. only the other brainmasters and deathsaurus are aware.

he feels such overwhelming guilt that he has to keep his true nature a secret from you. at least for now. he can't risk putting you in danger, at least no more than what comes at the cost of war.

he often denies himself any form of pleasure. his spike will be fully pressurized behind his interface panel, valve leaking so much that it threatens to seep through his seams, yet he'll continue calmly giving his speech and gallantly leading his troops. you were standing near him the entire time. the things you do to him. which he loves but hates.

you haven't consented to him jerking off to the thought of you. what if you don't return his affections? he's so dirty for getting aroused near you while you're unaware. it makes him almost as bad as deathsaurus.

the other brainmasters will help him, even if he insists that he doesn't need it. the last thing you need is harassment from your superiors.

braver will come to you with a proposition, telling you that there's a concubus among your ranks that needs to be fed. he calms you down. he makes sure you aren't jumpy when he tells you that he's built a contraption that will stimulate you and collect the fluids. it's sleek and compact, so don't worry! it can stay a secret. star saber feels something inside him when you agree. he has no idea what happened, but he can't concentrate on his work any longer. he has to go back to his habsuite and ends up leaking all over himself as he touches himself in a way that doesn't stifle the building heat in his systems.

if braver is being honest with themself, they are always running low on fuel for the servoful of concubus among them, but star saber requires even more due to his frame and regular exertion. that's why you're the perfect candidate. star saber's love for you will make your transfluid extra filling.

laster and blacker act as back-up, making sure you're safe and content when star saber is too busy to. if star saber's subtleties slipped past your radar, the other brainmasters giving you special attention makes it clear something's up. it's easy to connect the wires.

star saber will still be skittish after you know. he isn't rough in interfacing, but his stamina far exceeds yours. he needs to breed you so badly but doesn't wish to spark you up if that's against your wishes. he may convince you, but he hardly has the time.

once star saber has had you once, you won't ever be allowed to leave his sights again. there was a slim chance of escape before he interfaced with you. now it's zero. your frame is absolutely divine, and he knows it's wrong to always keep you with him, but he's doing it for you: your safety, your health, your pleasure.

he's the supreme commander of the cybertrons. the brainmaster of courage. trust him. will you?

concubus! yan! rung, who seems to be the most normal out of all the LL members. they all seem to have this certain flair to them that is absent within him. that is the most dangerous thing about him. he is the deity of pleasure and knows how masterfully to control it. he hardly acts on his inclinations, priding himself on his restraint, but you make him ravenous.

his therapy sessions came about because of your problems with intimacy. he offers you a safe space to explore your needs and desires, never making you feel like too much or too little. every word he says, every action he takes, is so painfully arousing.

he never leaves you unsatisfied. all he asks is that you keep your pretty lipplates shut about the more intimate service he's offering you. he'd truly hate to have you leaking everywhere, unable to leave your habsuite without risking humiliation. the thought of all those hungry optics on you is equally pleasing and infuriating.

concubus! yan! swerve attracts you through his awkward demeanor. most beings wouldn't suspect him to be someone who relies on interfacing to survive. still, he's more likely to appear in your recharge—offering to overstim you while his spike is leaking than shy away from your touch. well, maybe he would, because your casual glances and brief moments together make him overload.

what? he's still a pretty new concubus. he does not have all his ways refined. he more often than not ends up self-servicing while secretly watching other cybertronians get off like the dirty voyeur he is. his favorite thing to do is make you horny and watch you frag yourself, imagining it was him servicing you instead. maybe he's the tiniest bit insecure.

his bar is a favorite on the LL because of how addictive his drinks are. his special addictive always gets the residents of the LL hot and heavy with each other quick, keeping his natural inclinations temporarily satisfied.

concubus! yan! ultra magnus (minimus ambus) goes by the long-standing traditions of concubus culture. never does he stray. he is also quick to put an end to any tomfoolery any other concubus' on the ship may enact (cough, cough: rodimus, whirl, and way too many others.)

he formally seduces you, inquiring if he can mark you as his before he can give you the pleasure you so greatly desire. how could you say no? your systems are overheating, and you feel as if you've been edged for vorns on end, despite only starting what was supposed to be a casual conversation a few minutes ago.

you don't remember him asking you to be marked. all you know is that there's an arousing minibot with the designation of "minimus" that continues to visit you in the night, leaving you spent and (almost) wishing you were sparked.

the transformers 𖹭 megatron, metroplex, optimus prime, starscream

concubus! yan! megatron demands attention. he demands obedience from you. he is brash and unabashed in his infatuation with you. whenever he is able, he has you. you are his main food source. he gets quite violent when any of his subordinates attempt to siphon any of your arousal or just your energy in general. that is certain death. (it doesn't stop starscream from doing it.) he enjoys the ego boost he gets when one of his soldiers walks in and he has you spread out. you take him so nicely. they better leave quickly, or he may dominate them next.

you are definitely fragging yourself with him in his alt mode. it's something he tells you to do when he's exhausted but still wants to get you and himself off. megatron squirts transfluid into you through his barrel.

concubus! yan! metroplex is far more in tune than you'd think. you often feel a soft probing in your processor, and then you're filled with fantasies that end up with you quickly self-servicing before getting back to your duties. he is patient with you, knowing that no matter how bad he wants to spike you he's far too big in his form.

he settles on leading you into any one of the large rooms that hold his machinery. you just felt drawn there. something will look off. you go to take care of it, and suddenly you're bent over. he's whispering in your mind as his wires wait to probe you. there's something so inherently erotic about one of his thick wires fragging you senseless. your pedes just barely are unable to touch the floor. he'll pull overload after overload out of you and ask for nothing in return.

when he's in root mode, you don't exactly get a chance to speak with him. but his telepathic connection to you is more than enough to make his intentions clear (if him constantly wire-fucking you wasn't enough of a sign.)

he gets bolder and will enter your processor more often, even settling in there. he's able to coax you into overloading whenever he tells you to, even if it's at your inconvenience. just once he wants to have you retract your panel in the middle of a meeting and overload in front of them. just so they know that he is taking care of you better than any other bot ever could.

concubus! yan! optimus prime is a giver by nature. he is kind towards you, soft in so many ways. he knows it's a weakness. the last thing he needs is megatron, of all forsaken mechs, seducing you into his faction just to get back at prime. that doesn't stop him from giving you everything you deserve; just be more cautious about it.

he gets spike and valve drunk so easily. one would think you were the concubus prime that seduced him. it's the only time his mask is retracted. by the names of every prime before him, his glossa and servos are naturally skilled thanks to them.

he's a breeder by spark. he wants to give the greatest thing he can to you: new life. he doesn't know what gets his spike pressurized quicker: you sparking him or him sparking you. he'd be so grateful to be a carrier, even in this war. the knowledge that the most intimate part of you would be inside him is almost too much to bear. you being the carrier? he'd get to watch you swell with your shared creation. he'd get to coax so many overloads out of your aching spike and puffy valve. his pillow prince(ss), seeing as how he doesn't want to strain your frame.

concubus! yan! starscream is bratty through and through. he lightly humiliates you in front of your fellow decepticons, really bringing out his depravity when in private. should he tie you up in one of the war rooms, a replica of his spike keeping you full? anyone could walk in at any moment. or maybe he could make you wear a spike ring. keep you needy for him. definitely something that vibrates or is connected to you. you're trying so hard not to fall apart in battle, or in general talk with other deceptions, but they can tell something is up with you.

making you fail so he can punish you is his favorite pastime. he sees the irritation in your optics as you have to give in to the second-in-command's whims. he spanks you, having to retract your interface panel so he can chastise you for getting so leaky over being reprimanded. one would think you're breaking the rules on purpose to get his attention. he'll swat at your aft while giving only one of your interface parts attention. your valve will be weeping transfluid as your spike is painfully pressurized or your spike is struggling to overload again as your valve is well lubricated and clenching around nothing.

he may be a switch, but he always maintains power in some aspect. if you dare to try and edge him when he isn't in the mood, he'll quickly correct that behavior!

transformers: shattered glass 𖹭 blaster, soundwave

concubus! yan! blaster despises having to take your orders. you'd look much better below him. instead, you cut him off and force him to do your bidding. he makes his subordinates' lives worse than you ever could, taking out his suppressed sexual desire in violence. he's fragged plenty of the lower autobots. he's used them and left. most his rank or higher could never stand him long enough to frag him. the few that did didn't stick around.

he's often stuck fantasizing about what he'll do when he finally gets you to submit to him. he'll make sure your moans are heard all over the base. he'll be rough. he won't stop until your frame forces itself into a temporary stasis. his transfluid will be flowing out of every part of your frame. new dents have been made because of his tight grip. you can't get his fragging soundtrack out of your processor. you'll be lucky if you don't end up sparked. he won't take responsibility if you do.

you'll have to beg for his attention instead of you forcing his. you'll be more than used. you'll owned—by him.

he'll record your fragging session and use it as blackmail. he'll often replay it to himself to get off.

his thoughts run wild with scenarios far darker than that. he'll enact them all. he just needs to get you vulnerable enough.

concubus! yan! soundwave knows he needs to reform the autobot that has piqued his interest. he has gotten the go-ahead from megatron. what better way than exposure therapy? he'll show you how much he loves you. love conquers everything, even intense brainwashing from a genocidal dictator. he infantilizes you to a certain extent. he sees you more as a product of your outcomes but will still hold you accountable—just with more leeway.

you only get to overload if you've been good. and no touching yourself. he doesn't want to restrain your servos or put a chastity lock on your interface panel, but he will if you disobey.

his vocalizer and words are so soft, so smooth on your processor, that you'd be really stubborn not to give in and listen to him. he promises you unending pleasure. he promises you unconditional love. he promises you a bright future. you'd have to be out of your processor to turn those things down.

maybe he'll telepathically force you into submission if you really aren't receptive to his therapy. he doesn't see it as bad. he isn't manipulating you in a bad way. he's doing it for your own good.

he'll neglect himself to teach you that their ways are right.

what more could you want from a concubus lover?

transformers: the headmasters 𖹭 cerebros/fortress maximus

concubus! yan! cerebros could transform into fortress maximus any time on any day with you around. the other autobot headmasters quickly notice their commander's infatuation with you. they all psychically agree to be the best wingmasters for him. it only makes his need for you worse. he wants to ravage you in the most tender way possible.

he has to step away to self-service at least half a dozen times a day. he doesn't want to scare you. primus, that's the last thing he wants.

he can't help but teach you how to develop a telepathic connection with him. he knows to an extent it's wrong to trust such a sacred secret to someone he isn't bonded to (yet). it makes it so much easier to express his feelings for you. how could you deny a connection to him when you're overwhelmed by how very much his existence revolves around you?

he may or may not play dirty, telekinetically controlling your frame in small ways that will lead you to seek him out.

And those feelings... so intense, so foreign. They overwhelm him so. Countless thoughts race through his processor whenever he looks at you—especially into your eyes. So much life. It reminds him of everything he's fighting for in one go. How he wants to make sure he never fails you. Not to make the same mistake again. To keep you safe, now and until your last breath.

Everything feels lighter with you.

Like the weight of the universe momentarily leaves his shoulders.

... Then it all comes crashing down.

He cannot do this.

Not now, not ever.

If the Decepticons catch even a sliver of your existence, you will be in danger.

That's all that ever happens to his dearest friends.

To his dearest, you.

Maybe this will be the one thing that finally makes Optimus Prime decide something selfish.

— i went for a general version of optimus for this one cuz even his standard characterization is hard to figure out as a yandere nOooOOo

Your first meeting went less than well. Most likely because he was unable to calm himself down. His comrades provided cover as he brought you two someplace with a semblance of safety. His exhausts were fuming, and no amount of fan power could stop him from a potential overheating.

He knew the Decepticons were low, but to kill off a carrier? A sparked bot―an occurrence so rare in the war he never thought he'd have laid his optics on a bitlet again.

If his fellow Autobots thought he was tutelar before, this was a new level. Yes, bots are naturally territorial over new life, especially in a situation such as this, but his insistence on staying with you is obsessive. He's acting as if he's your conjunx, a human he hardly knows the status of.

His battle mask prematurely slides on whenever something that could be a threat nears you or your sparkling. This includes other Autobots that have a tendency towards roughness or recklessness. Accidents happen. He won't allow that. He's quick to place you somewhere out of danger, always placing your lives over his. Primus, he'd sacrifice all his plating if it kept the pair of you safe.

He gets anxious whenever you go somewhere he is unable to follow you. Whether that be because he has to blend in or it's simply not his place to join you. His engine revs while in his alt mode, radio clicking on and off habitually, despite the fact that he's supposed to be parked (and off). As soon as you return, he's bombarding you with questions. He can't say that he isn't the least bit jealous that the sparkling gets to go everywhere with you, even when he can't.

He prefers to have you sleep in his alt mode. He understands it isn't the most conventional, but humor him. Until you find a place to reside that accommodates his size, he'd prefer if you resided within him while resting. If danger appears, he can easily remove you from the situation. He can monitor the bio stats of the sparkling and help you if they begin having a fit.

Small side note. The government would do well to swiftly find an abode that accommodates him, as well as the other Autobots. While they may not be as devoted as Bee to you, they are a family. A family of potentially homicidal robots that, while intending to preserve humanity, can be hypocritical to that moral point and, at the end of the day, are fettered to their baser instincts (protect the carrier and the sparkling at all costs). It takes a village, as the humans say.

Bumblebee's a wonderful sire to the bitlet. He needs guidance from Ratchet and the others on how to properly care for them, but the intention is definitely there. He always has time for them. He's also a little more than careful. Anytime it seems that they've been injured or are in a bad mood, it sends a shock to his spark, causing it to ache. His plating will elongate for a moment, like how startled animals raise their fur/feathers, but after determining it is only something minor, he returns to a more relaxed state.

The Bear or Bumblebee? Bumblebee. Always Bumblebee. It also helps that a bear couldn't stand a chance against Bumblebee. He asked me to put that fact in here.

He's an overbearing but kind-sparked yandere. He may not be the most educated or wise, but determination sets him apart from the rest... and the fact that he has a non-functioning vocal modulator.

🅨🅐🅝. 🅑🅐🅨 🅞🅟🅣🅘🅜🅤🅢 🅟🅡🅘🅜🅔

An ache deep within his processor forms when he first gets a good look at you and the sparkling. It's as if the Allspark has decided to burn a mission into his spark: protect the human and the sparkling at all costs. It's a blessing, quite honestly. One he was fortunate enough to stumble upon after taking his team to track a crashed pod.

He is intimidating; he understands but attempts to be calming as he explains your situation. You have to ally with them because not only will the Decepticons be after the sparkling you are caring for, but also your government will stop at nothing to hunt you down. It's so cruel that both of you were dealt a fate such as this.

He can't help but despise his own feelings on the subject. It's clouding his judgment. The humans have hurt his kind so much, yet he continues to protect them. Now this goes further than protection. This encroaches on bonding territory.

You always have an Autobot at your side. They are your shadow(s). It's mandatory―second nature to you now. You're never alone, which is reassuring. They also would lay down their lives for you, which is an honor if not a bit overwhelming.

Optimus always insists on you recharging nearest to him. It allows him to relax the least bit. After you and the sparkling have fallen asleep, he can't help but begin to fantasize about what life could be like in the future. He's lived for so long and allowed himself so little. Now he has the ability to take on the role of not only conjunx endura but also sire.

Somehow you haven't figured out what those words mean. It's surprising considering how much his soldiers tease him about you. He could shut it down at any time, but there's something about it that he likes. They all know you should be bonded to him. None of them will try to cross the boundary from ally to something more.

The only time he grows agitated is if they speak in your native tongue about you and him in front of you, for obvious reasons.

If someone threatens either of you? You know how much of a beast Bayverse Prime is. His middle name should be throws servos. Yes, he will attempt to get the opposition to change their opinion before they do something really stupid, but he hopes they will. He wants to hurt them for their foolishness. He also wants to impress you. He needs to show you that he is a worthy sire.

At the end of the day, sure, you're being gang-stalked by militaries globally, but you don't have to pay for gas ever again, or taxes now that you think about it. You also get a free Prime as a bonus.

🅨🅐🅝. 🅖➊ 🅢🅞🅤🅝🅓🅦🅐🅥🅔

A sparkling cassette—in these conditions?

The Elite Trine found you being transported by a group of Autobots back to their base. Starscream executed an attack, bringing you (reluctantly) and the sparkling back with the divine proclamation that since he found a sparkling, he is now the new leader of the Decepticons. Megatron knocked Starscream on his aft, threatening to offline him before instructing Soundwave to take care of the two of you. He has orders to not allow any harm to befall either of you and a secondary set of instructions to not allow Starscream within the vicinity.

It struck him that you had a bond with the sparkling already. He didn't know humans were able to create mental pathways with Cybertronians. The young cassette hangs onto your every word, refusing to detach from you. It even recharges in a human-sized version of a cassette recorder that has been fitted with energizing capabilities.

It's as if he's been ordered to―to―he doesn't know. There's nothing that compares.

Your inner circle just got filled by your new child, Soundwave, and his cassettes (children).

His scanners never leave you. Even if he can't have his optics on either of you, he'll still be able to sense you. Mental coercion is normal in your relationship. He makes sure you reciprocate and do as you must, worrying little of your free will. He's superior. He doesn't need to "explain the method to his madness," as the Autobot human Spike once said.

His plating tenses up when someone else is around you who doesn't fit into his immediate circle. If someone lays a servo on you, they'll lose it. If someone endangers his cassette, oh, death will be swift for them. He doesn't consider himself a sadist, but he has a few choice things he'd like to enact on anyone who commits such an injustice. Megatron is exempt from this, but that doesn't stop Soundwave's E.M. field from being extra potent until the issue is resolved.

Soundwave's cassettes are on their extra tippy-top bestest behavior around you (aka Rumble and Frenzy don't do too much stupid shit while around you or the sparkling). They're amazed about how squishy you are. The sparkling can still cling to you just like a carrier!? Woah, they've never had another caretaker before, only Soundwave. They get double the attention and double the love. At least that's how they see it.

Your sparkling is now their sibling and will be until the day they spark out.

Arguments are more common between them now. They need you, and they want to play with their sibling but can't because they usually need to do work.

Some of his cassettes aren't allowed to eject around you, period. Soundwave sees them as either too violent or careless, like Buzzsaw and Ratbat.

Sometimes Soundwave plays recordings of your interactions with the sparkling when he can't recharge. He gets restless easily unless you're near him. He insists that you sleep in his chassis with your sparkling and his other cassettes. It's the only way he'll be able to rest soundly.

If the sparkling causes a ruckus at night, then he'll play Cybertronian lullabies, believing both you and him being at full charge to be of the utmost importance.

" Objective: protect organic and sparkling. Unintended side effect: sparkmate and offspring. "

🅨🅐🅝. 🅣🅕🅟 🅡🅐🅣🅒🅗🅔🅣

Oh, by the Allspark. This must be some cruel joke by Unicron.

A human caring for a sparkling? A sparkling―something he hasn't seen in eons. It has been left in the incapable hands of one of your kind?

Naturally, the weight of the responsibility falls onto him, as it always seems to. As the medic, he must teach you how to properly care for the young life. No easy feat considering energon isn't exactly in high supply around here, and soon the sparkling will be heavier than you are able to carry.

This presents multiple problems, including the fact that the sparkling is bonded to you and will throw a raucous fit if separated. Not only that, but nearly all sparklings cling onto their carrier for dear life. You are all it knows to be. It could accidentally crush you if you're careless! Cybertronians are clumsy when they're young. So uncoordinated. If all that isn't bad enough, he needs to find a way to boost your internal EM field. The sparkling needs it to feel safe; it aids in healthy development.

All these problems on top of the other ones! There are already too many humans.

"You're just another annoyance," he tells himself.

Watching you attempt to care for such a vulnerable life makes his spark clench. It causes feelings to surface that he long thought died out during the horrors of war.

Disgusting thoughts invade his higher processors from his baser circuitry. What if he was more than just the medic aiding you? What if he actually sired the bitlet? He could grow to have a place in his spark for you. He could finally stop being alone, and perhaps the loss of their planet wouldn't weigh so heavily on him.

Ugh, he sounds like a sparklite who just learned about bonding.

This doesn't stop him from becoming more snippy around the other humans. He shoos them away, possessively taking up your space. He even dislikes the others interacting with you.

He has never exactly enjoyed conversation, but he never thought that would extend to others. He despises when Bulkhead makes you laugh or Arcee helps you with his sparkling. Don't even get him started on Smokescreen. He'd like to commit a little medical malpractice on that mech just so he could―argh.

These thoughts are wrong. He is aware. He just can't stop. He refuses to be vulnerable enough with you, so he talks with Optimus. He leaves out the less conventionally allowed bits, just speaking about his growing connection with you.

Optimus tells him to leave it. It is inappropriate. For some reason that makes him angry. He dismissively responds to the Prime and goes back to aimlessly scrolling through datapads, doing his best to scrub you from his data banks. He has everything about you internally backed up in so many places so many times over that it's nearly an impossible task.

He feels like he wants to rip his spark out and throw it somewhere to never be found. He can't leave you be. He won't. And by all the power in him, no one is taking you away from him. He won't—can't lose anything else. It'll shatter his spark if he does.

🅨🅐🅝. 🅣🅕🅟 🅢🅗🅞🅒🅚🅦🅐🅥🅔

It's illogical to have a human look after a sparkling. However, it does bring up scientific questions that Shockwave believes should be answered. Megatron does not deem the human fit, but the sparkling has already imprinted upon them. Their assigned duty is to formulate a way to unbond the two. The goal is to kill you off and have Megatron raise the sparkling to be a future successor.

Starscream isn't enthused with the plan, not that Shockwave can bring themself to feel anything about it. They just don't want to waste precious time and resources on negating the other second in command's interruptive antics.

This process has had an unintended side effect. They do not want you eliminated. You are a test subject that he now deems valuable. You have managed to get one of their own to deem you as their carrier. That is a feat, indeed. It is a case unrecorded in the Cybertronian history that he has managed to get his servos on.

He could even go as far as to say that you amuse him.

That does little to keep you from the harshest of Shockwave's projects. As long as you are functioning on some level, you are good as far as they are concerned. Driving you to the brink of insanity is merely a side effect. One that intrigues him.

How will the sparkling react to your declining health? How does it respond to your pain and fluctuation of emotions?

How long are you able to be separated from the sparkling? What will the sparkling do in order to reunite with you?

Would your passing, real or staged, cause the sparkling to spark out? As much as they want the answer to this question, it's far too risky and off task from his original order.

He keeps you two close to him at all times. It's in order to observe you and formulate the best plan to separate you from the sparkling. That isn't exactly the entire truth. They've become enamored with their favorite test subject. Keeping you near him allows his processors to function without problems. When you are away from them, they can't help but divert a small amount of power to think about you.

It's vexing.

He, for lack of better Earth words, cares for you after the worst of his experiments. If they let you spark out, well, die since you are a human; he won't be able to ensure the sparkling's health. The sparkling also suffers when you suffer. So if you die and the sparkling's pain mimics that, they will have failed. It's actually quite interesting. He's never considered himself a sadist, merely a scientist, but your pain is fascinating. That is not the point.