Lost Lighter

Your hands curled into fists as you grip the wrinkled bed sheets, your face pressed into the mattress as Soundwave sinks into you. Mouth opened to release a breathy moan, you jut your ass up against his hips, encouraging him to just start fucking you.

But he doesn’t, the smug bastard wanting to really take his time with you. Your eyes are watery behind the fabric currently covering them as he prolongs your torture. You’ve been in bed for hours at this point, Soundwave giving you the most delicious foreplay you’ve ever experienced. And now after what you assumed was two and a half hours of foreplay, he decided the now was the time to finally put his dick in you.

He lets out a soft groan as he relishes the way your walls are already fluttering around him, wanting him deeper, to merge with him. It took an astronomical amount of his strength to not go absolutely feral and give it to you the way you’ve been itching for, the way he’s been fantasising about for several months.

He knew you wanted it, your thoughts were screaming and begging him to practically break your back and the bed. But he wanted to hear your voice, wanted to hear you plead for him. He knows you’re not great with words, most of your thoughts and feelings going unsaid and unacknowledged. But tonight he was going to change that, he wasn’t just going to break you, he was going to break that insecure little voice in the back of your head that tells you to be quiet.

He rolls his hips back languidly, as lazy as a cat before slowly pushing back into you. You relinquish a sigh, but it was not of relief. It was more a sigh of defeat, like you’ve accepted your fate.

He tsked, wrapping your hair around his fist before pulling your head back. “This would be much better if you told me what you want.” He whispers into your ear, that vocoded tone practically vibrating against your eardrums.

You shiver at the sound of his voice, and at the very notion of what he’s demanding of you. “You know what I want.” You replied, breathing heavily to maintain what little composure you have left.

He hums, “Oh I know…” Dipping his head down into the crook of your neck to nips at the flesh there, already littered with hickeys from before. “But I want to hear that pretty voice beg for me.”

He releases your hair, and lets your head fall to the mattress as you whine pathetically. He maintains that same slow, agonising pace. His cock filling you was nice enough, but it wasn’t what you wanted, not what you needed. And fuck you wanna cry for him so bad, but the words are stuck in your throat, years of habit is hard to break.

“I…I can’t, what if the cassettes hear us?”

“Don’t concern yourself about them.” He responds immediately. It makes you think that he’s already thought about that head of time, or maybe he just does not care if they hear or not. “You will tell me what you want, or I will stop.” He says, then pulled his hips back until only his tip was left inside, making his threat very clear.

Your eyes widened behind your blindfold, “No, no please, don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

Soundwave smirked before suddenly pushing back into you heavily, causing you to gasp out a lungful of breath. “That’s better.” He said teasingly, grounding his hips against your ass. “I will ask you one last time. Tell me what you want.”

You bite your lip, groaning in frustration. This fucking asshole is not gonna make this easy for you. But the threat of him potentially pulling out and ending this just before it gets good has you in a chokehold, it’s a surprisingly good motivator to push you out of your comfort zone.

“Fuck me Soundwave.” You say firmly, surprised by how unwavering your voice was.

He rewarded you by moving his hips, faster than before, yet nowhere near how you wanted. “How do you want me to fuck you?”

You rolled your eyes, his servos kneading at your plush hips, “Harder than that.” You say meekly.

“I’m sorry? What was that?” He responded, a shit eating grin clear as crystal in his tone.

You growled at that, having enough of this, “Fucking break me, fuck me till I can’t think straight!”

“Very good…” He praises before pulling his hips back and slamming back into you. He begins to set a brutal pace now, one that has you moaning and gasping for breath. Yes yes yes, this is exactly what you needed. What you’ve been yearning for so long. How long has it been since someone had touched you intimately, let alone fuck you like this? Years at this point, you think. But upon second thought, you realise that no one has ever fucked you the way Soundwave is fucking you. And no one ever will fuck you the way Soundwave is fucking you.

Because there is no going back after this.

He rails into you, hips meeting against yours like a battering ram, carving into your walls so that you fit him perfectly. He fucks you like he’s trying to breed you.

He never relents, his pace rough, and yet despite that, he dips his head back to the crook of your neck. He kisses you there, surprisingly soft and tender despite his violent thrusts. “Does that feel good?” He hums against your neck, his voice holding a slight tease in his tone.

“F-Fuck yes, s’good!” Came your slurred reply, already finding it difficult to find the right words.

He gives a particularly harsh thrust, grunting quietly against your neck. “Louder. Tell me how good you feel.”

You practically sob in pleasure, not used to being this loud. But fuck if it means he won’t stop, then you will scream for him. “I feel so fucking good Soundwave. Please don’t stop! I need more, please give it to me!”

“Very good.” He praises, his voice wavering slightly as he managed to pick up the pace, as though he wasn’t going hard enough before.

Your eyes rolled back, not a single thought in your head, he has successfully fucked you stupid and you couldn’t be happier. You didn’t care about how loud you were, didn’t care that your lower half might be covered in bruises by morning.

“P-Pull my hair again.” You managed to choke out before quickly adding. “Please…”

You felt him smile against your neck before reeling up slightly, wrapping your hair around his fist once more and tugging your head back. A throaty cry escaped you as he kept pulling your head back until your back was arched, head tilted back far enough so he could look down at your face.

“Will that suffice?” He grunted, trying like he was still in control when he edging towards his own climax.

“Uh huh…” You moan dumbly, wishing you could see his face right now. But it was you requested the blindfold covered your eyes during this session, knowing that it keeps you calm. “I think I’m gonna cum.”

“I know sweet thing.” He murmurs, leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss. You moan into him, your pussy clenching around his cock.

“Cum for me.”

Your mind felt like it was vibrating, always did when he spoke to you telepathically. You didn’t just hear his words, you felt them through your whole body. It was transcendental, and with the blindfold on, it was true an out of body experience.

And it was exactly what you needed to send you over the edge.

Your toes curled so hard that your feet cramped, pussy clenching so hard it caused Soundwave to falter before spilling inside you. You mewled and keened under him, moaning pathetically against his lips before he pulled away. He released your hair and you both collapsed onto the bed.

Tarn had only known devotion all his life, dedicated his entire being to it. To a cause, to a tyrannical mech who moulded him into his perfect puppet. The same mech he deified and worshipped the very ground he walked upon, who he allowed himself to be deluded in his grand schemes. Saw his oppressive authority and believed he saw love, because that is all he had ever known.

So imagine his utter disbelief, when that same mech boarded the Lost Light as co-captain. When he was branded by the Autobot insignia, the revolting bright red tarnishing his masters gun metal grey chassis.

And Tarn prayed day after day that it was all a trick. That it was all part of a bigger plan and that Megatron would turn his back on Rodimus. That Megatron would return to him and tell him that he’s been such a good puppet for his master.

But it never happened.

No matter how hard he prayed and begged to the stars hoping Megatron would hear him. He remained an Autobot, he chose the Lost Light over his own cause. And it was then Tarn realised that everything he had done for his master, his god, was for nothing. Megatron saw how much Tarn devoted himself to the cause and thought it meant nothing.

Tarn had never known a betrayal that could cut like this.

Something in him had snapped, his mind gone to a point of no return. He had thought that was no longer possible. He hunted down both Autobot and Decepticon alike, and his methods of torture became more elaborate and downright indulgent to a sickening degree.

But the endless torture and death was not enough, and abusing substances and Engex no longer numbed him the way he needed it to. He needed something else, something that he could enact the same cruelty onto the way Megatron did to him.

He needed a pet.

So imagine his delight when he found a lone little human in a cage in an exotic pet exhibit. He had never seen a human before, only ever heard about them, and never in a particularly positive light. He had not realised how truely small humans were, small and weak and helpless.

A perfect victim.

He paid a hefty price for you, and you did not go without screaming your throat raw at him as he took you aboard the his ship. But he was completely unbothered by the sound, having been so used to the sounds of screaming. He set up a small space for you in his habsuite, your gilded cage for the rest of your pathetic life.

You had refused to eat for a few days, snarling at Tarn like the animal you were. It had amused him at first, your defiance a thing he toyed with regularly. But the hunger must’ve gotten the better of you, and eventually, you took the food he offered you without a word.

Tarn had already devised a plan for you the moment he bought you, he’d lay on the love and care as much as he could. Feed you, groom you, maybe even let you out of your cage for a bit. He’d spoil you rotten and pamper you until you were convinced that maybe he did care for you. Maybe he even distance himself from you every once in a while, to remind you of your place on his ship, that your survival is contingent on whether he felt like caring for you that day. He’d make you beg for his attention and love, get on your knees and prove to him that you are worthy of him.

Then he would abandon you on a distant planet with little resources, with no sign of civilisation. Just you and your thoughts as you stare up with tear filled eyes as his ship disappears into the stars.

That was the plan, to enact the same betrayal on you that he endured from Megatron.

But something happened.

He wasn’t sure what it was, and he wasn’t sure when it happened. He just knows that something happened and that you were aware of it too.

Maybe it was when you started saying thank you whenever he gave you food or water. Maybe it was when you asked him if you could sit on his shoulder when he started taking you out of your cage that made something in him shift.

He started bringing you gifts, most of it was scraps he found from other planets, but some were things you could fashion into tools, which would help you make other things. Maybe he just grew more fascinated by you the more you made your cage into a home. Something he saw as useless and helpless was surprisingly tactful even when given limited resources.

Then he started talking to you, actually talking to you with engaging conversations. Not just the kind of talk one would use on their dog. He now looks at you with the kind of interest one would give when coming to the realisation that this thing, has thoughts and feelings and some degree of intelligence.

Truely a riveting revelation. But a step in the right direction.

You would stare at him through the bar of your cage with what he deluded himself to be interest in him.

And Tarn would do anything to have you look at him like that again.

Your cage was no longer a cage, it was an alter. One he frequented to daily to leave his offerings and devotion. And you saw the ripe opportunity in front of you, to have such a hulking titan at you beck and call, who would gladly eat anything out of your hand. You learnt quickly that Tarn was a needy thing, so deprived of affection that he’d take it from anywhere. Dig for it like water in a drought.

The temptation was powerful, one that even you could not resist.

His devotion was a terrifying thing at first, he expresses it violently, going to the extreme to prove that he would do anything for you. If you wanted anything, he’d be sure you get it, even if it means causing a few casualties along the way. If anyone so much as looked at you funny or spouted your name in vain, he’d present their entrails to you like a trophy.

But you quickly grew addicted to his violent nature, no longer casting your gaze away from it. Now you watch with a sick sort of satisfaction as he decimates his foes. He had tarnished you, severing your humanity in a way he hadn’t initially intended to, but welcomes no less. And you had tarnished him, effortlessly subduing him to be your perfect puppet, the only thing he knew how to be.

His attraction for you was the universes worst kept secret. And you played with it, at first, unsure if you wanted it or not. But having been essentially alone for so long without the touch of another human. Your decision was made quicker than you realised.

It started subtle enough at first, praising him when he does something you like, acting coy at times. Then you would flirt back at him, trail your hands on his servo when he holds you in them, allowing your eyes to linger on his longer than you normally would. You spent most of your time with him, and he’d find any excuse to be near you.

It was a toxic obsession loop, the more you fed into it, the stronger the pull gets, till eventually neither of you could deny it.

The first time he took you, he had given you so many gifts, laid out expensive silks on your bed. Adorned you in so much gold and silver jewellery, you didn’t know what to do with most of it. He had given you a wide range of alien food, fruits and wine to engorge yourself on, the display so excessive it would put Roman emperors to shame.

So you decided to give him a gift in return.

The moment you presented your throbbing pussy to him like a cat in heat, it snapped something in him. All self restraint had gone as he mass displaced and mounted you, tearing the beautiful dress he had gifted you only a few days ago. It didn’t matter, he will simply give you another one. He will give you everything the universe has to offer plus more, but in that moment, he just wanted your tight cunt around his member.

He had fucked you for god knows how long, but you knew it was long enough for you to pass out from exhaustion. You gave him an earful once you were fully rested and recuperated, telling him how reckless it was to ruin one of your favourite dresses. But there was no venom behind your words. Because you knew you’d let him do it again.

———————————————————————

“Stay right there. And don’t fucking move.” You pant as you rub tight circles around your clit. Your knees are planted on either side of his face, that beautiful mouth of his just underneath your cunt where he can breathe in your heady scent.

How long have you gone at this now? Just teasing him with the sight of your own fingers pleasuring yourself. You had given him one order, to lay down and watch, to not touch or even try to lick you.

A few times he made an attempt to lick a strip between your puffy folds. And a few times you nearly gave in. But you were on a power trip, and you weren’t about to give that up for anything, not yet at least.

Having such a large mech keen for you as he pumps his leaking spike in one hand and grips the side of the bed with the other. He could easily overpower you, grab those plush hips of you and pull your sappy cunt down to his lips and devour you. You know this, and he knows this.

But he doesn’t.

Because he would never disobey an order from his new master.

“You know I can just use my voice on you to make you do whatever I want.” He says in the deep sultry tone that has your knees shaking. The look in his optics was dangerous and hungry, his hot breath fanning over your slick folds.

“You won’t.” You reply, keeping your voice firm despite the animal inside you wanting nothing more than to ride his face till morning come.

“Oh but I might.” He growled, optic’s narrowing into slits as he watches you rub your clit faster and harder. Despite the menace in his voice, he could not hide his desperation, or how he stroked his spike in tandem with your fingers.

Unable to hold yourself back any longer, your brows furrowed as the coil in your loins snapped. Your pussy clenched around nothing as you came hard from simply looking down at Tarn, watching as some of your cum dripped onto his beautifully scarred face.

He shuddered at the sight, glossa sticking out to lick your sticky essence from his lips. But Tarn is a greedy thing, he wanted more, always more, straight from the fruit.

“Please…I need to taste you…” He whined, absolutely breathless, his servo abandoning his spike to grip your supple hips. Yet he still didn’t pull you down despite every circuit in his frame screaming at him to do so.

You smile down at him, like sunlight parting through the clouds as you bring a hand down onto his helm. “You may.” You sighed as you lowered your pussy onto his mouth.

He moaned against the meat of your cunt, gripping your hips as though you’d disappear any second. Your mouth hangs open as you grind against his mouth, only slightly overstimulated, but nowhere near done.

You turn your head to glance at his throbbing cock, still leaking and twitching. A sad sight. You’re surprised he hadn’t cum yet, but you suppose he’s saving that for you. You look back down at him, he eyes staring up at you as he suckles on your clit, his expression one of adoration.

“Make me cum again…” You started, tightening your grip on his helm as you grind on him faster. “And I might suck your spike.”

He moaned wantonly as he doubled his efforts, “Yes my love.”

First Aid stood by the wall, clutching a glass of Engex in his servo, his mind lazily trying to muffle at least some of the noise surrounding him. He could feel the vibration from the loud speakers blasting music and the stomping pedes of other mechs. First Aid wasn’t the type to willingly go to these sorts of events. But there was apparently some important milestone Rodimus made on this stupid quest that was worth celebrating. Ratchet insisted that the nurse take some time to enjoy himself and let loose a little bit.

And he supposed that was a good enough excuse to tell others who would ask why he was here. But that was only half the reason he was here and already tipsy.

The second half was currently dancing on top of a table, your body moving to the rhythm of the music.

He took another sip of his Engex, hoping his staring wasn’t so obvious as his optics watched your dress flow and billow around you. It had been a project you’ve been working on for a while, collecting fabrics and materials across your travels whenever the Lost Light took a pit stop on an organic planet. You take the opportunity to go shopping, whether that be materials for clothing, new foods for you to try, or small trinkets to spruce up your living quarters.

He had accompanied you a few times on these jaunts, he got to learn a lot about you during these times and was a great way to develop your friendship. He learnt that you always had a hobby of making your own clothes even before you ended up on the Lost Light. Except now you have the time to actually dedicate to making the designs you want. And with a wide range of unique materials to choose from when you get the chance to visit an organic planet.

First Aid understood the functional necessity of clothing for someone like you. You mentioned that the Lost Light can get a little cold for you, so you often wear warmer clothing, ones that cover your whole body or most of it.

But what he didn’t understand at the time was the aesthetic aspect of clothing.

Now he most certainly does.

The dress you wear doesn’t seemed to be particularly concerned about the chill you often feel when wandering the Lost Light. It exposed more of your skin than what he is used to seeing, especially your legs. The skirt of your dress would expose a little more of your legs and thighs every time you twirled or spun, only to hide your legs from view a moment later.

It was as of the dress was specifically designed to catch his attention, to keep his optics on you at all times.

But that was just the Engex talking, he told himself in his head. He’s had a bit too much to drink, and he’s flustered, because he swears that always happens when he’s had too much to drink. He NOT a human fucker, he’s not a freak. He’s your friend, he likes being your friend, he would never want to ruin a good thing just because he’s horny.

You twirled again and his optics remained locked on your thighs. Making him seriously reconsider his stance on everything.

He finally managed to redirect his gaze away from your legs, towards your face. His spark fizzled when he saw you were looking back at him. Well scrap, this is awkward, he had tried to be subtle about his staring. But Primus has forsaken him he guessed.

On the plus side, you don’t appear to be offended. You flash him a smile, you gesture for him to come over, your body still swaying.

First Aid was stuck in his place for a few seconds too long, his processor felt like it was frying. His frame shook slightly as he took the first step, the closer he got to you, the more sure of himself he became. Sure you were making him nervous. But Primus you looked so beautiful, your eyes are a pools of shimmering stars as they reflect the flashing lights of the bar. He would never forgive himself if he passed the opportunity to simply be near you.

“Hey.” You greeted him with a wave as he stood in front of you. Your tone sounded bubbly, you’ve likely had a bit too much to drink as well, an explanation as to why you’re so energetic now.

“Hey…” First Aid replied, a little dumbly he thought. This was his chance to at least try and charm you, to sweep you off your feet, metaphorically speaking. And maybe literally speaking too.

You giggled at him, stepping a little closer to him on the table. From here, you were at least level just above his hips. “You looked lonely over there.” You tell him, shouting slightly over the loud music.

He shrugged, looking down at his drink, nearly empty. “No I…I’m just not a party guy, I guess.”

You laugh again, “What a coincidence, neither am I.”

He returns your laughter, glancing towards the ground as he shuffles on his feet. Why was this so awkward for him? He’s flirted before, asked plenty of mechs and femmes for a dance with little issue in the past. But with you it’s different. Maybe because you’re a human, a completely different species than him. He didn’t want to come off too strong, didn’t want to scare you off. But he also wanted you to know just how god damned attractive he thought you were.

“Aren’t you gonna ask me to dance?”

Your voice pulls him out of his little thought spiral by surprise, “What…” He almost didn’t quite hear you, the music and chattering all around him made it difficult to concentrate. And the alcohol certainly wasn’t helping.

“You look like you want to…” You say, stepping even closer, just a foot away from the edge of the table.

The look you were giving him made his spark fizzle and flicker, his fans clicking to cool his heating systems. Even your tone was different, sweeter somehow. Your expression was expectant and sultry and First Aid was utterly stunned.

“Oh, haha…um…” He started, laughing dumbly as he tried to formulate a proper sentence before letting his mouth run ahead of him. “Would you…would you like a dance?” He finally asks, extending a hand out to you.

You smile at him brightly, accepting his offered hand immediately. “I thought you’d never ask.”

He chuckles again before taking your other hand. He held your hands loosely between his fingers, and began to sway with you slowly. It was completely out of rhythm to the music, but he honestly couldn’t care less. You were smiling up at him and that’s more than he could ask for right now.

You giggled as he gently twirled you, his own steps becoming more energetic the more confident he became. He had considered mass displacing and dancing with you properly on the table. It would certainly make this a little more interesting. But doing that would catch the attention of too many bots, and he’s not sure if he could handle that right now. Plus he ran the risk of accidentally stepping on your feet, and he would rather die than let that happen.

Time flies when you’re having fun, but time right now is an amorphous thing to First Aid as he’s not sure how long he has been dancing with you. You kept smiling, but even you looked a little winded. He leaned down so you could hear him over the loud music.

“Do you wanna take a break?”

You nod immediately, slowing down your movements. “Yeah, I could use a drink.”

Needing no further prompting, he held his hand out, offering to carry you over to the bar. You accept his offer immediately, your tiny hand holding his thumb for support. Once you’re standing securely on his servo, he hovers his other hands over you as he moves past other mechs and femmes, mindful to not accidentally bump into anyone.

Within minutes, he sets you down on the bar, taking a seat on a stool, heaving a sigh. “Swerve.” He called to the mini bot. “Another glass of Engex for myself and…” First Aid trailed off, glancing down at you to finish his sentence.

“A glass of that new stuff I bought.” You answered, almost absentmindedly. Your focus seems to be elsewhere.

Swerve just smiled and said “Comin’ right up!”

A comfortable silence fell between you both as you waited for your drinks, which didn’t take long as Swerve slid First Aid’s drink to him, and placed your smaller glass in front of you.

First Aid took a large gulp of his Engex, trying to think of something to talk about. His nerves were still on fire, even as the initial excitement of dancing with you has slowly begun to wear out.

“Didn’t take you for much of a dancer.” You say over the rim of your glass, eyes him up and down.

He set his drink down and shrugged, “Very rarely. I don’t often have the time or energy for it.” Nor a partner to dance with, but he decided to leave that part out. “I can dance better than that though. My footwork was sloppy tonight,” He added bashfully.

You quirked a brow at him before lowering your drink, “Why didn’t you mass displace? It would have made it easier.”

First Aid shook his head, swirling his drink around in his glass. “No, it would have been too awkward.”

“Awkward?…” You repeated before snickering. “Ah I see. You just don’t wanna be seen as pint sized like me.”

He laughed at your lighthearted jab, optics flickering down at you. “Maybe. But there’s more reasons as to why I did not mass displace.”

You scoot closer to him, “Like?” You say expectantly, taking another sip of your drink.

His spark pulses at the way you gaze up at him, you were teasing him, he just couldn’t prove it yet. So he answered honestly, bringing his glass up to his uncovered mouth. “I could’ve stepped on your feet and crush them by accident.”

“You’re a nurse. You could fix me right up.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “I’m a nurse, not a miracle worker love.” He quips before taking a swig of his drink before adding. “I would never willing put you in a state of harm if I can help it.”

“You’re such a gentleman.” You hum, eyeing with an expression he failed to comprehend, but it was making him giddy. Though that may be more of the alcohols doing. “What other reason?”

First Aid paused, optics darting around before falling back on you. “What more reasons do you want?”

You giggle, scooting even closer to him, you’re now close enough to touch his servo of your wanted. “I’m sure there’s more to it than that.”

He took another sip of his drink to push down the nerves, his optics locked on yours before he sets his drink down for good. “You’re so pushy when you’re drunk.”

“And you’re easy to read when you’re drunk.” You countered as you placed a hand on one of his digits, your voice low. “Were you afraid you’d get a little handsy with me if you had the chance?”

His frame shook, you definitely weren’t wrong. He had thought that if he were to mass displace and dance with you on the table, it would have been a lot easier to hold you. And he is sure his servos would have done some exploring, copping a feel of those soft curves of yours.

His gaze flickers down to your hand on his, “Seems like you’re the one that’s handsy here.” He tried to turn the tables on you, pushing the flow of the conversation back onto you.

“That’s not what I asked.” You replied firmly, taking your stance. You weren’t going to budge until he answers your question.

He vented, warm air fanning over you, “Maybe.” He answered, flipping his servo so he could hold your hand properly, his touch surprisingly tender. “Would you be opposed to it?”

You smile at him, satisfied with his seemingly noncommittal answer. “Not one bit.” You say, and he feels like his processor was overloading. He never thought tonight would go in this direction, and he is not complaining one bit. “I only wish that you did.”

Holy Primus.

He shifts on the stool he’s sitting on, his helm turning just to make sure no one can hear the intimate exchange you two were having. Your eyes travelled up and down his frame, observing his body language, reading him like the open book that he is.

“I-I…” He managed to vocalise, your delicate fingers tracing along the seams of his servo. “I suppose…I should do something to rectify that.”

His processor was telling him that this was a stupid idea, a bad idea. But you flash him a bright pearly white smile and it shuts his processor down with the accuracy of a trained sniper.

“To my room then?” You stand up, feigning innocence as you hold your hands behind your back.

He stands as well, his frame beginning to heat up, his fans whirring to life. “I know somewhere closer.” He replies as he extends his servo out to you to step on.

You grin mischievously, “Eager are we?”

“You have no idea.”

———————————————————————

First Aid made quick strides into the medical bay, practically clutching you to his chassis as he reached his destination. He sets you down onto one of the nearby medical berths before stepping onto it as well. He massed displaced before pushing you down onto your back, his frame now hovering over you.

“Oh my…are we really doing it in here?” You gasp as he pressed himself gently against you, effectively pinning you underneath him.

“Do you have any objections?” First Aid rumbles against you, mask sliding away to reveal his handsome face once again.

You shake your head quickly, breathing out a soft no before you pull him down towards you, closing the distance between your lips.

The kiss was hot and frantic, some much pent up tension being released onto one another as First Aid’s servos caress the sides of your torso, being so mindful not to lean all his weight onto you. You moan into his mouth, not waiting for even a second to delve your tongue into his intake.

He hummed against your lips as he returned your fervour, his glossa mingling with yours and pushing past your lips to get a taste of you. “Fuck…” he gasped against your mouth as his other hand ventured down towards the hem of your dress, hiking it up to get to the pair of legs that occupy his processor more than he’d like to admit.

You help him out by pulling up the skirt of your dress for him, bunching it up around your hips, exposing your underwear. You wanted nothing more than to rid yourself of this garment that you spent so long putting together. Right now it was nothing but a hindrance. But First Aid seemed to only have on goal in mind and you didn’t have it in you to deny him any further.

“You’re so beautiful,” He whispers as he moves his mouth down to your neck, pressing his derma against your soft skin. Everything about you was so alien, soft and warm and nothing like him. And yet strangely enough, so similar in ways he couldn’t possibly fathom. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”

You bite your lip at the mechs words, “I swear to god Aid if you don’t fuck me right now I’ll-“

“What the hell do you two think you’re doing?!”

Both you and First Aid’s attention was ripped from each other, reality hitting you both like a train when your heads snap at the old angry bot standing at the door.

Ratchet looked mortified as he held Whirl at his side, the mech in tow looking banged up. Likely from getting drunk and starting a bar fight, the usual Whirl antics.

First Aid returned Ratchet’s horror, his optics not knowing where to look, “It’s uh…It’s not what it looks like.”

That earnt him an annoyed slap on his chassis from you and a look of utter disbelief from Ratchet. Whirl groaned at Ratchet’s side and lifted his helm heavily, wondering what all the fuss is about. His cracked optic lens honed in on both of you, narrowing slightly as he made a weird garbling sound. “Primus I think I’m gonna be sick.”

Ratchet managed to rip his gaze away from you and First Aid, remembering that he has a patient to look after. “You can get sick Whirl.” He tells the helicopter as he takes him to a free medical berth to lay him down. In that time you and First Aid finally pulled apart from each other.

“Maybe we should have gone to your room.” He whispered as you smoothed out your dress.

You just huffed out a breath, nodding as you were too embarrassed to speak. First Aid was about to lead you out of the med bay in the hopes Ratchet would just let him off, but that was wishful thinking.

“You stay here.” The doctor said pointedly, not looking away from Whirl as he assessed the damage done to the bots frame. “I might need your help if Whirl decides to be difficult.”

First Aid sighed, mentally kicking himself for not thinking ahead. He whispers a quick sorry to you before closing the med bay doors and trotting over to the medical berth. He was moving more or less on auto pilot, assembling equipment together in case of any serious injuries. Nothing sobers you up faster than embarrassment.

Silence stretched on for too long, which was simultaneously both a blessing and a curse for First Aid. It meant that he didn’t have to address the elephant in the room, but that also meant he could feel the doctor’s judgmental glances. The nurse just focused on the task at hand, passing over tools when asked and keeping the wound area clean.

“When I told you to enjoy yourself and let loose a little, I didn’t mean in my med bay.” Ratchet finally said after five minutes of agonising silence.

First Aid just shifted on his feet, “I’m sorry sir. It won’t happen again.”

Ratchet didn’t respond to that, just kept his gaze fixed on to dents and scrapes on Whirl plating.

The blue mech in question decided after another long bout of silence to speak again, “I don’t suppose you can erase my memory of that while you’re at it.” He says, looking up at Ratchet, earning him a pointed glare from First Aid.

The doctor rolled his optics and groaned, “Ask Chromedome, not me.”

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Shockwave regarded himself as a purely logical and reasonable mech. He has only ever strived to be such all his life, and he most certainly has no interest in changing that. Every word he utters is carefully considered, even practiced if necessary. His decisions and actions have always aligned with what he thought was the most logical thing to do at any given moment.

Not this moment however.

His optic was fixed in the debauchery in front of him, Soundwave was mass displaced and lying on his back. His servos gripped plush human hips that rapidly bounced up and down the length of his spike. The human in question moaned unabashedly with her head thrown back, long black wavy hair moving around her as she rode the communications officer like her life depended on it.

Shockwave had not been spotted, the majority of his bulky frame hidden around the corner of the doorway. He had come by to check in on the human, the latest edition to the Nemesis. A decision by Megatron that Shockwave still didn’t understand. Her habsuite was nothing more than a small supply closet in Shockwaves lab that was never used. But the space was big enough for her to make use of it, to make it more of a home than a prison. And Shockwave had been tasked to more or less keep an eye on her. But if he was too busy, then Soundwave would take the mantle.

Shockwave did not particularly enjoy looking after this human, she was useless as far as he could tell. And she seemed to make it her life’s mission to personal bother him at the most inconvenient times.

But Soundwave, on the other hand, didn’t seem to mind her company. He never expressed annoyance when she tapped on about whatever. And has been seen on rare occasions to allow the human to sit on his shoulder while he works. It was strange to see such a reserved mech such as Soundwave feel so comfortable around a lesser being.

And now Shockwave knows why.

Soundwave gave a particularly rough thrust upwards, making the human gasp out his name, her hips rolling over him faster to grind her throbbing clit over his plating. Shockwave should have made his presence known, to stop this debauchery here and now. Or at the very least move away from the door and even inform Megatron of Soundwaves insubordination. The scientist is almost certain that Lord Megatron would not be pleased to hear that his favoured lieutenant is fucking the human captive.

But he remained as still as a statue, gaze locked on her greedy cunt stretching around Soundwaves spike.

Never in his millions of years of living has he witnessed something so…wrong. So disgusting. It was honestly overwhelming his processor. It was so completely and utterly illogical.

He had thought Soundwave was a more respectable mech than this, one who would not cave in to the most base of instinct when given the chance. But it would seem that couldn’t be further from the truth. Shockwave did not need to hear him or see his face to see that the TIC was lost in the humans pussy. His servos traversed her body with a gentleness not many know he is capable of, trailing slender digits over tattoos that littered her skin. His gentleness is only contrasted by how hard he was thrusting up into her, making moans and gasps tumble from her lips, red and slightly swollen from biting them.

And the human, that annoying, useless creature that Megatron insists on keeping for whatever reason. Her eyes were shut, pinpricks of dewy tears sat on her lashes as she herself is lost in the throes of pleasure. Her hips lose their rhythm, the pressure in her lower regions making it hard to concentrate, so desperate for release. And Shockwave hates that the sight alone made his processor short circuit. And he swears he doesn’t feel his spike pressurise behind his interface panel, that would be absurd. What he was witnessing was revolting, and he was certainly not envious of Soundwave. Not in the slightest.

Soundwave was quick to notice that the humans pace was faltering, rolling over with swift grace so that their positions were reversed. She laid comfortably on her back, legs spread wide as he held them open. He was free to set the pace now, one that would chase their respective overloads.

His hips snapped against hers as he sends two tendrils towards her. One snaked around her torso and chest, squeezing the soft mounds on her chest that Shockwave absolutely does not want to touch and has never thought about touching them even once. The other tendril wraps around her throat, lightly constricting her, her mouth hung open as constant moans and cries left her. Seizing the opportunity, the tendril shoved into her mouth, her eyes widened in shock as she tried to accomodate it by opening her jaw wider. Soundwave didn’t move the tendril, but simply kept it there to keep her gagged.

Shockwave optics was glued onto the humans mouth, mesmerised by how well her lips conformed to the girth of Soundwaves tendril. And he had to manually stop his processor from forming an image in his mind that it was his spike in her mouth instead.

He looked down to where Soundwave was railing his spike into the human soaking cunt. The constant slapslapslaping sound sent an electrifying shiver down Shockwave spinal strut, making him shift on his pedes, his frame suddenly feeling heavy.

There was no denying it now, Shockwave was enjoying watching this a lot more than he should. He should be repulsed by this, having been celibate for so long as he thought the idea of interfacing was pointless. This was war, and no one had the time or energy to spend wasting in on mindless fucking and quick gratification.

A few cycles ago, he had overheard a conversation among a group of Vehicons. Something about some of them being weirdly attracted to some humans, despite their disgusting organic forms. Shockwave paid it little mind at the time, assuming it was just an odd choice of conversation among bored Vehicon soldiers with nothing better to do. Perhaps even just a joke. Surely no one would actually be attracted to humans. And if someone were foolish enough, they would surely never think to act upon those silly intrusive thoughts. Right?

Shockwave couldn’t have been more wrong. And he hated that. Not only was a human walking around the ship that lower ranking Vehicons were actively lusting after. But so were high ranking officers like Soundwave, who was almost always with the human, also lusting after her. Getting his spike wet on a possibly regular basis. Who knows who else has it out for this human.

Certainly not Shockwave.

No. Absolutely not.

Oh who was he kidding?

The communications officer snapped his hips harder, making the human practically scream, the sounds muffled by the tendril. She was close, Soundwave was close, Shockwaves spike was painfully erect and leaking pre-fluid behind his interface panel, his servo twitched at his side as he fought the urge to touch himself.

The human didn’t last much longer, her legs shaking around Soundwaves waist as she let out a high pitched sound before she started squirming, convulsing. Shockwave watched with fascination as a stream of dewy white fluid sprayed from her pussy, coating Soundwave dark plating. That must have taken the TIC by surprise as his hips suddenly faltered, hunching forward as his frame shivered, reaching his own violent overload.

The air went still as Soundwaves tendril slid out of the humans mouth, letting her gulp down air. Shockwave stood frozen, his optic glued to her face as her brows bunched together, her dark hair clung to her forehead as her breathing became even, her face more content. One of her hands gently grabbed one of the tendrils and caressed along the length of them. It was as though she was silently showing her gratitude to the mech, and Soundwave seemed to reciprocate, those same tendrils softly caressing her. Not to stimulate, but to soothe. The gesture so careful and gentle it could almost be described as reverent.

Shockwave looked back to where she was still connected with Soundwave, her cunt still fluttering around him as she came down from her high. But Shockwaves processor stalled when he properly looked at Soundwave, his mind fraying.

He was staring straight back at him.

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