pls read more if you’re looking to request and/or want to read more of my work ♥️
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── .✦ 𝓻𝓾𝓵𝓮𝓼!!
if you want to request on anon, please read how to do so -> here <-
be kind, be respectful, be courteous.
no AI
minors dni on 18+ content.
note: i am happy to take requests, but it can take me a while to write. please be patient with me, i am trying my best <3
continuities that i know
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── .✦ 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽:
drabble/ficlet — short and brief, headcanons/glimpses or half a fic.
one shot — standalone singular full chapter fic.
multi-chapter — part of a larger story, multiple full chapters.
ೃ➷ optimus prime
seperate list here
࣪ ִֶָ☾. megatron
separate list here
⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ tarn
hot circuitry - 18+, one shot, inc. megatron.
sparked desires - 18+, one shot.
drabble - 18+
steelbound - 18+, one shot.
housewife - sfw, one shot.
crossed wires 18+, one shot, inc. overlord.
steelbound cravings - 18+, one shot, inc. megatron
cotton circuits - 18+, one shot.
little bird - 18+, multi-chapter.
✧˖° soundwave
steel melody - 18+, multi-chapter.
possession - 18+, multi-chapter.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ possession pregnancy hcs
shared - 18+, multi-chapter, inc. shockwave.
drabble - 18+
boiling point - 18+, one shot.
drabble - 18+
𖥔 ݁ ˖ shockwave
drabble - 18+
chemical desires - 18+, multi-chapter.
drabble - 18+
shared - 18+, multi-chapter, inc. soundwave
⋆ 𐙚 ̊. windblade
drabble - 18+
₊˚ ᗢ. elita
drabble - 18+
drabble - 18+, inc. arcee
drabble - 18+
sizzling fuse - 18+
*:･ velocity
drabble - 18+
⟡ scavengers
free use - 18+
ᯓ★ overlord
crossed wires - 18+, one shot, inc. tarn.
blue fire - 18+, one shot.
drabble - 18+
✦ ₊˚. arcee
sugar sweet - 18+, one shot.
drabble - 18+, inc. elita
ఌ︎. knock out
ficlet - sfw
shut up and drive - 18+
‧˚𓇼 nautica
little dancer - sfw, one shot.
ficlet - 18+
➸⊹ brainstorm
drabble - 18+
₊˚ෆ rodimus
blazing circuits - 18+, one shot.
drabble - 18+
taste - 18+, one shot.
ficlet - 18+
ficlet - 18+
𓆩⟡𓆪 multiple different bots
kinks - 18+
kinks pt. 2 - 18+
cuddles - sfw
cuddles pt. 2 - sfw
positions - 18+
positions pt. 2 - 18+
mistletoe - sfw
spike hcs - 18+
floating lanterns - sfw
joint popping reactions - sfw
₊˚. skyfire
nebula - sfw
✠ dreadwing
drabble - 18+
drabble - 18+
drabble - 18+
⋆୨୧˚ thundercracker
drabble/ficlet - 18+
drabble/ficlet - 18+
ৎ୭ perceptor
starry night - 18+, one shot.
ೀ⋆ fort max
routine maintenance - 18+, one shot.
⋆‧° grimlock
ficlet - sfw
: ̗̀➛ ultra magnus
drunken love - 18+, one shot.
˙⋆✮ drift
drabble - 18+
quanto - 18+, one shot, inc. ratchet
•°. * ratchet
tempered nights - 18+, one shot.
quanto - 18+, one shot, inc. drift
. ݁˖ thunderclash
woven clouds - 18+, one shot.
⊱ ׅ ✧ combaticons
the more the merrier - 18+, one shot (all combaticons).
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-> warnings/tags: minors dni. no plot, just porn. fairly vanilla, valve oral, soft/sub first aid. 1.6k words
hello hello!! waahhh you are SO KIND. i would LOVE to read some of your work!! it makes me kick my legs and twirl my hair that other tf fans like reading my stories!! if you like first aid, you should read some of @lostlighter375 ‘s work. they have some DELICIOUS first aid content!! anyway, i hope you enjoy and have a lovely day ♥️
For the first time in what feels like forever, the medical bay is empty. There's not a single spark i sight, which means that First Aid can finally enjoy some downtime.
You peer up at him, focusing on how his bright blue visor flickers with overstimulation as your tongue refuses to let up on his leaking valve. He's gripping onto the seat of the stool for dear life, nearly on the verge of breaking it. This wasn't how he thought his workday would go, but you're always full of surprises. He also never thought that he'd be having his valve eaten in one of the empty bays of his medical unit.
He's so beautiful when his processor is running amok because of you. He's a quivering, endearing mess. It's something he just can't control around you.
You're practically making out with his valve. You're being messy and sloppy, making sure to target all the good bits that have his circuits frying in no time. He prefers this over clean, precise licks. It's funny how people differ in the berth compared to how they are on a day-to-day basis.
"Primus, have mercy," he whispers, "Don't stop. Please don't stop, it feels so good exactly where you are."
He can be needy, even more so when you're paying special attention to his anterior node. Your tongue moves languidly, easily finding every sweet spot he has. Your tongue feels so much better than a Cybertronian glossa.
His frame is heating up, causing his cooling fans to activate. Whirring sounds emit from him, which is beyond sexy. It wouldn't have done anything for you before your life merged with mechanical beings, but now? That's an entirely different story.
You couldn't stop even if you wanted to. You're far too into this, and the rhythm you've found begs not to be broken. You'll stay on this path until you have him releasing all over your tongue.
You take your hand to the entrance of his valve, pairing two fingers together before pushing in. His helm rolls with bliss as you part the callipers that line his walls. The pads of your fingers find his interior node, and you immediately start to beckon up against it.
With both nodes receiving a constant flow of stimulation, he moans in a high pitch. His hips buck ever so slightly, but you manage to stay on him. You moan into the hot metal of his valve, feeling his prefluids already gathering over your plump lips.
"Ah! Ah!" He whimpers pathetically, rolling his hips. You huff a short laugh, entertained by his pleasured antics.
Fluid trickles down the crack between your fingers and spreads into the palm of your hand. Your tongue flicks his anterior node with expert precision, excited to see him coming undone in front of you.
"Mmhh—phh!" He whines as his leg struts start to shake. He vents deeply and heavily, gripping the stool impossibly tighter as he reaches his climax. His vocaliser cuts out mid-moan, left to enjoy his ecstasy with nothing but the sound of your fingering and licking.
You hum as his taste swarms over the buds of your tongue, seeping into every corner of your mouth. Giving one last long lick over his valve, you finally part from him, pulling your fingers out at the same time.
You suck the fluids off your fingers, making sure to make eye contact with him as you do so. He's besotted with the sight, almost to a humiliating degree.
"Go sit on the berth," you say with a nod towards the medical berth behind him.
He looks over his shoulder behind him, weighing up the consequences of doing something so lewd in a place designed for sanctuary and curing. It's a doubt that only lingers for a moment, a moment cut short by a flood of bodily memories of how good your pussy feels. He stands from the stool without even thinking to do so, moving over to the berth as though it yields a gravitational pull.
You grin at his obedience, standing from your kneeling position and wiping your wet fingers on your top. You follow him over as he sits on the edge of the bed, eager optics awaiting your arrival.
"Can you take your spike out for me?" You hush sultrily, eyeing up his interface panels.
He nods, utterly distracted by the shape of you. You giggle lightly as you notice his ogling, and you decide to gratify him further. As he disengages his panels, you start undressing.
First goes your top, then your shorts, discarded onto the floor. Next, your bra, and then your underwear. They both join the pile of your clothes, and they'll remain there until you're both done with your fun.
You hear his vents work harder, his shielded optics tracing the lines of your body. He never thought he'd be so intimately intrigued by an organic.
Taking one step closer, you reach out to grab his servo. You bring two of his digits to your mouth, sucking on them to slicken them. Behind his mask, his intake drops.
You pop them out of your mouth, leading them between your legs. He gets the memo, taking the initiative to stroke his newly wet digits against your hole. You sigh a soft moan at the delicate touch. It's a bit difficult to take him without having any foreplay received on your part, but you're too desperate for his spike to delay it any longer.
He withdraws his digits, settling his servo by his side whilst patiently waiting for you to make the next move. You settle your hands on his shoulders before hiking your legs up to straddle him. You hover over his spike, nestling it in the arch between your legs.
You shift your weight down, slipping his spike inside. He huffs with a moan as your heat starts to envelop him, working your way down inch by inch.
Tucking your head into the crook of his neck, you start to litter the intricate metal with hot kisses. Your hips bounce on him, nice and steady.
He whimpers as you drag your tongue along the fuel lines on his neck. Your hips roll steadily over him, feeding his leaking spike into your pussy over and over again.
You slide your hands down his frame, following over to his arm struts to take his servos into your hands. You lead them to your ass, prompting him to grab on. You fit perfectly in his servos, like a lock and key.
"Don't be shy," you coo against his neck. "You can grab it properly."
"O—Okay," he stammers back. He gives an experimental squeeze, letting the soft flesh spill in the gaps between his digits.
You let out a little breathy moan, enjoying the feeling of his talented servos being so crude with you.
"Keep going," you plead.
He heeds you, squeezing again. He finds a rhythm with it, and realises he enjoys the way your ass gives under his touch. He hums a small moan, being so bold as to actually assist you in riding him.
It helps your aching thigh muscles, which you're grateful for. You start moaning heavier against the metal of his neck, tucking your face in further. Your tongue comes back out, tracing along the ridges. He mewls and whimpers at how sensitive he is, and it serves as fuel to make you ride faster and harder.
Ever so lightly, you graze your blunt teeth against his main energon line. A staticky gasp leaves him, feeling startled. You giggle, pulling away from his neck to face him. Your eyes look through his visor, seeing his barely visible optics beneath. You draw him to pepper kisses over his mask, settling one hand on the side of his neck and the other on his shoulder.
"You feel so good," he compliments, the words causing his mask to vibrate. It sends a pleasant sensation over your lips, almost ticklish.
"I'm glad," you hush back, "You deserve some respite every now and then."
You press your chest up against his chassis, seeking to be as close as possible to him. He welcomes it, squeezing your ass harder. He's moaning beneath his mask, trying to control himself out of worry that someone might hear. This is a grossly inappropriate way to conduct himself in his medbays.
"Ah—" he whimpers, "I'm gonna overload."
Maybe the risk of semi-public sex really does something for him. This is quick for him to find his release, but you certainly aren't complaining.
He lets out a long, deep-rooted moan as his spike twitches inside of you, dumping a heavy load of transfluid into you. You gasp, arching your back at the warmth spreading through you. His visor flickers with light as his fans work overtime.
"Mmm," you hum happily, "I love it when you overload."
"G—Good thing you're so good at making me doing it," he babbles.
You continue riding him, now looking to carve out your own pleasure this evening. You gasp little moans as you move relentlessly on his lap. He shudders with static at how sensitive his spike is, but he makes no motion to stop you.
Winding your hands behind his neck, you single out a couple of wires with nimble fingers. He whines as you gently start caressing them, knowing how sensitive they are.
Your fingers dig in a little as you sense your peak approaching. You throw your head back with a gasp as you focus on that feeling, envisioning how his spike looks going in and out of your sappy pussy. The thoughts are enough to unravel you, your hips staggering as the pleasure pulses through your lower half.
Your release is sweet and hot, your walls clenching around his throbbing spike. It's just the high you needed.
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Hope you had an amazing break! You more than anyone deserve it after spoiling us nonstop with your delicious content every single time 💕
I was rereading (because your writing is just THAT good) the smut where the reader goes back in time to get filthy with past Lord Megatron… and it gave me a new idea 👀.
After jumping through time and sampling all those younger versions of him, do you think we could finally push him into getting a liiiittle jealous? Enough to give us the rough treatment we’ve been craving. You know… the kind where he puts us right in our place, preferably in a nice, deep full Nelson 😝
⏾⋆.˚ mtmte megatron x human fem reader 18+
-> warnings/tags: minors dni. jealousy, semi-insecure megatron, hard sex. exists in the across the divide universe. 3.5k words
HELLOOOOO omg you always deliver BANGER asks. you speak to my SOUL. thank u for your kind words as well, my break was very much needed!! i'm slowly getting back into the swing of it now!! i hope you enjoy this very DEEEEVIOUS fic >:)
Stealthbomber Megatron struggled to stay away. He sought you out, tearing timelines apart to find you. He broke the universal laws of physics for one purpose: to indulge in impulses he's adamant become obsolete in his coding centuries ago. The tight feeling of your perfect pussy was too good, it haunted his thoughts. He had to experience it again.
So, imagine your surprise when he rocked up on the Lost Light. It scared you nearly half to death.
He was so caught up in it all that he failed to realise he was on an Autobot ship. Perhaps that was a good thing, as it wouldn't take a genius to then realise that his future self is, at the very least, aligned with the Autobots. Something the Stealthbomber version of your lover would not take kindly to in the slightest.
That was a few days ago now, and honestly, not at the forefront of your mind right now. Your Megatron is lined with pillows to make it comfortable for you to rest on him.
Your leg is slotted in between his, and one arm is resting over his decorated chassis. He's running gentle touches up and down your spine, soothing you. You can hear the soft whirring of your spark, and it's almost enough to lull you to sleep.
"Are you sleeping, Starlight?" Megatron asks quietly, mindful just in case you are asleep. You note a specific tone he's adopting, almost as if embers are being carried under his glossa.
"No," you reply softly, lifting your head to look up at him.
"I love you," he hushes. The edge in his voice doesn't waver, and you find yourself struggling to place where it's coming from. If he had to breathe, you can imagine he'd be holding his breath right now, because breathing might let his pain escape.
"I love you too, Megatron," you reciprocate, tracing the light over his Autobot insignia.
"Are you… Happy?" He dares to ask.
A slightly confused expression flashes over your features. You cock your head to the side a little, humming curiously. The light in his optics seems dimmed. Dejected, almost.
"I'm the happiest I've ever been," you answer honestly. "Why do you ask?"
"You don't prefer being with the other me?" He continues.
Now that surprises you. It all makes sense now; you can immediately read the tone and expression laced within his demeanour. It's as though the pain has nested inside of his chassis, festering and growing.
"What? Megatron, what are you talking about?" You say with a shallow shake of your head. "Of course not. I love you."
"I think I… Don't like it, when you're intimate with the other me," he confesses, a tad ashamed to say it. He struggles to meet your eyes as he utters the words. It's a change of tune from before, when he said he didn't mind, but you suppose he has complex feelings about his former self.
"Oh my God," you gasp with a fraction of heartbreak, "Megatron, I'm so sorry. If I had known, I promise, I never would have done it."
You shift from your position, causing the pillows on his chassis to fall off as you hook your leg around the other side of him, straddling his lap. You lean in to kiss him, cupping the sides of his helm to keep him focused on you.
He kisses you back, but you sense the worry dancing all over his derma. Does he perhaps feel inferior to his former self?
"Megatron," you hush lowly, consolingly. "I have the very best version of you. The most handsome, the strongest, the kindest," you continue to compliment as your hands smooth down from his helm to his chassis.
"The wisest and most knowledgeable, the most talented. Not even your former self comes close."
"You're just saying that," he mumbles back.
"I'm not," you insist, "I am so very in love with you that it's almost sickening, and I am love with who you are now. You're older, more experienced, you're so good with your spike it brings me to tears."
You trail your hand down to find his servo, grabbing onto it to lead him to the curve of your ass. You settle his hand there and let him take it from there. He squeezes ever so gently, almost on instinct.
"You know my body so well, Megatron. You know exactly how to make me tick. You think anyone else, in this timeline or not, could do the same? With all due respect to your former self, he doesn't even compare."
He burrs against your lips, capturing them greedily in a heated, passionate moment. You roll your hips over his interface panels, feeling the slight thrumming oscillating there.
"Let me prove to you that you have the best version of me," he declares lowly.
"Aside from the fact I already know that, I would never turn down some loving from you," you reply sultrily. If he wants to prove a point that has already been driven home, in the form of fucking you until you're dumb, who are you to refuse?
With deft digits, he gathers the hem of your top. You break the kiss, sitting back so that he can hoist your top up your torso. You help him take it off you, flinging it off to the side to be long forgotten. You went to bed without a bra on, so that's one less thing he has to remove.
He hums contentedly as he is transfixed on your tits, unable to stop himself from reaching up with both servos to take a handful. He squeezes and rolls the soft mounds under his large palms before smoothing outwards, stroking his thumbs over your hardening nipples. You make a small, quiet sound in response.
"These are so beautiful, just like the rest of you," he comments.
"Ever the romantic," you hush back. That's the main difference between your Megatron and the other one. His former self pays little attention to any kind of affection and care, simply taking what he wants to a gluttonous degree. It's one of many reasons you much prefer the current version of him.
His servos rasp against your soft skin as they fall to the elastic waistband of your underwear. He digs his digits underneath, testing the pull of the elastic. You can't help but roll your hips over him, already too excited.
You shift your legs, bringing your feet over to his grated abdomen plating. You plant your hands on his thigh struts behind you, lifting your hips as he rids you of the last piece of your clothing. He drops them off the side of the bed as you return to your previous position, your knees on either side of his hips.
Megatron holds your hips firmly, forcing you to grind your bare pussy over his hot, but closed, interface panels. He peers down, focused on the wetness you're leaving on him.
"Come sit your pretty little valve on my face," he requests ardently, unable to look away from your slick heat.
You lean forward a little, placing your hands on his chassis so that you can start to crawl up the length of his body. You close in on him, and Megatron is more than delighted that he's moments away from indulging himself in your pussy.
Your knees fall to either side of his helm, just narrowly missing the weapons protruding from his back. You sit back, perched on the top of his chassis. You peer down at him, and you can see his sights glued between your legs.
Wasting no time, he grabs onto your thighs and tugs you down, forcing you to fully sit on his face. You go with a short, startled noise, not expecting him to act so fast.
He winds his arms around your thighs, keeping you fixed to him. You don't even have a centimetre of wiggle room. If he doesn't need to breathe, there's no point in having any space for air.
His glossa and intake devour you hungrily, licking and kissing and slurping like there's no tomorrow. You moan, settling your hands on the top of his helm for purchase.
That glossa of his can do so much more than bark orders and be persuasive. This is what his glossa does best, and you're glad that he's all yours. The other Megatron is a proud mech and rarely ever submits to you to eat you out. But your Megatron? That's an entirely different matter.
He's quick and precise on your clit, teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves to wind you up. He knows all your tells, all the things you like. He knows exactly where to lick and suckle, how to get your mind bending under the pleasure. His glossa moves almost on muscle memory, his entire soul dedicated to remembering you.
Your pleasure is leaking straight into his intake, and it's so delicious that Megatron's wires are crossing. His optics dim, feeling as though he's ascending to a higher plane. His home has been established between your legs, and he feels every piece of him falling apart at the seams from how content he is here.
"Mmph! Right there!" You moan as his glossa starts to circle your clit. It's so methodical and perfect, and it reminds you that you are in fact dating a mechanical being who doesn't tire of things like this.
With you sitting on his face and your taste trickling down to his tanks, he believes he might already be in Cyberutopia. The Knights have blessed him, they have forgiven him for his egregious transgressions and decided to award him you as an act of kindness.
He hums happily into your core, sending subtle vibrations all over. You sigh a moan, tensing your hold on his helm. You'd ride his face if you could, but he's got you in an iron grip.
His glossa works from your clit to your hole, forcing entry to make you squeal. He's so good at flirting with you that even his glossa knows exactly what to do. The metal slides into you easily, and he immediately gets to work with exploring your walls.
Even though you're just sitting, your baby hairs are already sticking to your forehead and nape of your neck. You look down at him with teary eyes, seeing him totally lost in your pussy. His arrmstuts refuse to relent, rendering you little more than a doll for his enjoyment.
He fucks you with his glossa, taunting your fluttering walls. Your nerves hum with a cruel kind of sweetness, the kind that leaves you even more desperate than how you began. One hand leaves his helm, instead wrapping around the headboard of your bed. You grip it so hard that the skin around your knuckles whites.
You can hear him drinking down every drop your pussy yields. It fills him with pride, and he's reaping the rewards of his labour. He meant it when he said that if there was ever an energon drought, he knew exactly where to go for sustenance.
Seemingly, it never takes long for him to draw orgasms from you. You whine in a high pitch as you feel the oncoming high hurtling towards you at a rate that simply isn't sustainable. He can tell you're close, he can feel it against his glossa. Your little pussy is so perfect for him, as though you were forged by Primus to be entirely his.
"Megatron!" You moan as the waves crash against you. Your body thrashes in the overwhelming sensation, lending yourself to the sands of ecstasy. Your juices pool into his intake, and his optics offline completely.
You squeak and mewl as he continues his actions. Your body almost jolts from oversensitivity, slapping your hand lightly against his helm to signal him to stop.
He takes one last long lick before stopping.
His armstruts finally relent, allowing you to hoist yourself up on shaky thighs. Your hot pussy hits the cool air of the room, causing goosebumps to form over your legs. He licks his derma, savouring everything he can of your essence.
"I want you on top, but with your back against my chassis," he announces, "Can you do that for me, pretty Starlight?"
You give a short nod of your head, shifting your knees to unstraddle his face. You move down his frame until you're placed on top of his interface panel again. You swing your legs over so that you're on him the other way around.
"Lie down, my love," he says, putting his servos on your waist to prompt you back. You go down easily, supported by his strength. You hear his array disengage, greeted with the sight of his growing spike.
You settle against the contours of his frame, whimpering lightly when his large servos take the back of your thighs. He pulls them back, closer to your chest.
"Keep them there for me, Little Light," he says, letting go of one so that he can grab the base of his spike. He leads it straight to your exposed hole, nestling perfectly in the arch between your legs.
Lifting his hips, he pushes his spike in. He enters through the threshold of your sex, spreading you obscenely over his width. You shudder a gasp as your pussy welcomes him. He always has to ease it in at first, he's so big that he'd hurt you otherwise.
Slipping in inch by inch, he reunites his full length with the walls it's become so familiar with. You roll your head, resisting the urge to hold your breath.
He hooks his arms under your knees, folding you in half before he starts fucking up into your hot cunt. You cry out, arching your back. The red light of his Autobot insignia luminates the curve of your spine, imbuing you with the lust that emits from every circuit in his body.
You choke on your moans, your senses being whittled down to nothing more than pure ardour and need. This position feels unreal, you can feel every single inch of him intimately.
"My God, Megatron— You're so deep," you pant.
"You're very tight in this position," he whirs huskily into your ear, "I think I might keep fucking you all day like this."
"Please," you mewl. That sounds like a dream. The others won't even question where you are, it's common knowledge on this ship that the two of you can hardly take your hands off each other. Every bit of free time Megatron has, he's either showering you with romantic affection or 8.5 inches deep in your pussy.
"I'm going to fuck you until all you can remember is my name," he promises alongside his brutal thrusts.
You can feel him bullying your walls. It's a dull, consuming kind of sensation. You're gasping, trying to regulate your already rapidly rising body heat. He's got you spread nice and wide over him, making sure there's no issue with giving you the time of your life.
Hot slick runs down the length of his spike, gathering over his interface panels. It never takes him long to get you dripping wet, but this is another level of impressiveness.
"So lucky…" You mumble as tears start to well over your waterline. "So lucky, so lucky to have you. So lucky to call you mine."
"Yeah?" He hums as a cocky smile pulls over his derma.
"Mmhm," you affirm through a whimper, nodding your head.
"I've never— fuck, I've never had anyone so good in all my life. Not even your former self can make me cum as much as you do."
"That's what I like to hear," he whispers lowly, "I want you to cum for me. I wanna see your pretty pussy squirt for me."
And if you do, he will be able to see it. He's peering right over you, giving him the perfect view.
"You're not far off from getting what you want," you reply. The way he's striking the head of his spike against the spongy spot inside of you, you're going to be a quivering mess before long.
He takes one arm out from underneath your knee, using his servo to start playing with your clit. His middle digit circles it with little mercy, and you yip in reaction with a sharp arch of your back.
"You like it when I touch you here, don't you?" He coos sweetly. The words are marinated in hubris and arrogance, and rightfully so.
"Yes, yes! You make me feel so good!"
You're so wet that his digit struggles to keep traction on your pearl, but he's a mech of many talents, so he manages to pull through. It doesn't help when you start grinding your hips, trying to fuck yourself on his spike as well as get more friction on your clit.
His hips are slamming into your ass, causing the pliant flesh to jiggle. You're writhing on top of him as though you may never rest, and your voice doesn't waver as you scream and cry his name like a mantra.
He's so thick that it's making your head spin. This is definitely one of the rougher, harder sessions that you've had. Maybe you need to make Megatron jealous more often.
"Mine. You're mine," he declares. No more sharing, not on his watch. This pussy is for him only, this version of him. Call him selfish, greedy, jealous. None of it matters. He won't pay it any mind, because this is his final decision.
"All yours, only yours. Could never even think of anyone but you," you reply in a breathy tone.
He treats you far too well to ever leave you wanting anything, except maybe more time with him. If it were up to you, you'd be together all of the time. Alas, he does Captain a crew of over 100 mechs, so he has to divide his time here and there.
The rush of anticipation sinks its hooks into you, securing you firmly. Your imagination can no longer be teased, the realisation hits you that the chaos is already on your doorstep. A startled, pleasured noise fractures from your lips as the euphoria finally takes you over the tophat of pleasure. You squirt from him, just as he asked, soaking the sheets between Megatron's legs. Your legs shake from the force, your eyes rolling into the back of your head.
"That's my good little Starlight," he praises softly, unable to stop the enormous grin on his faceplates. What a sight that was, one he won't forget anytime soon.
"Fuck—" you pant, "Overload in me, Megatron."
"Nearly," he huffs.
It doesn't take much longer for him to come undone. He groans deeply as his systems go haywire, resulting in a heavy load of transfluid to be fucked straight into you. He dumps every single drop, painting your insides pink.
His fans whir rapidly to regulate his temperature. He stills you on top of him, leaving you in a resting state with his spike still snug inside. He's so hot that your back is sweating, but you're also too hot to really notice or care. He slips his arm strut from under your leg, easing up his other servo on your clit at the same time.
He takes a servo to the top of your head, smoothing your mussed-up hair out of your face. Your throat is dry from how intense that was, and you can feel your heartbeat in your clit.
Ducking his helm, he places a gentle kiss on your head. You bask in the silence, panting and tracing the lines of the ceiling panels with your eyes. You'll definitely need some recovery time after that.
"How was that for you, Little Light?" Megatron asks lightly, disturbing the silence.
All you can do is nod your head with a small sound of satisfaction. He smiles at that, moving to card his digits through the roots of your hair in a massaging fashion.
Pleasant shivers spill over your limbs and down your spine at the sensation, humming contentedly. You can feel the ache over your ass already, and you won't be surprised if you're littered with bruises in the next couple of hours.
"How do you feel?" You ask quietly. You're hoping that maybe he feels a bit more reassured now.
"Like I never want to leave this berth," he replies.
"Can't you ask Rodimus or Magnus to cover you? Just this once?" You suggest, your tone making it clear that you also don't want to leave.
He chuckles lightly as he runs his digits through the length of your hair, admiring how soft it feels against the hard metal of his digits.
"You know Magnus won't let that slide," he tells you, "But I'm not needed for another couple of groons, so I'm all yours until then."
Do you ever think Shockwave gets jealous of the fact that Soundwave can eat their human out but he can’t?
Gawd he’s so pathetic I love him 🤤
𑣲⋆ tfp shockwave x human fem reader x soundwave 18+
-> warnings/tags: minors dni. jealousy, competition, threesome, drabble (550 words)
ouughhhh they BOOOTH have unspoken jealousy issues. shockwave’s jealous that he can’t eat the human out, and soundwave is jealous that he can’t make special tools designed for pleasure. (but luckily for the human, they have the best of both worlds hehehe)
<- previous
Rolling your eyes into the back of your head, you moan obscenely as Soundwave's silent glossa makes quick work of you. It's the only time he ever removes his visor, when he gets to indulge in your sweet pussy. You have both hands on the top of his helm, encouraging him further.
Your weak legs are already trembling from how good he is at this. Watch out for the silent ones, huh?
Shockwave watches on with a glinting, flickering optic. He's jerking on his slick spike slowly, already covered in cum and transfluid from the round he's just finished with you. He's taking a beat to recover himself, letting Soundwave tap in.
The silent officer licks and eats Shockwave's fluid straight from your weeping hole, devouring every drop with extreme enjoyment.
You certainly look and sound like you're enjoying yourself, and Shockwave is struggling to recollect a time you've ever made noises for him like that one-on-one. Is it possible that Soundwave is better at pleasuring you? And Shockwave has never noticed until now?
Your cloudy eyes gaze over to look at Shockwave, your mouth watering at how sexy he looks. He's just so big and beefy, it gets all you giddy and lightheaded. You watch him toy with himself, letting a little whimper at what that does to you. What an honour to have two of the most competent Decepticons entertaining your lustful human nature.
"Wanna suck you, Shockwave," you mewl, your dazzling eyes capturing his singular optic. The way you look at him is enchanting, it binds him under your spell. You could lead him to the end of the world, and he'd be none the wiser to what's going on around him. It's almost infuriating when Shockwave realises what you do to him.
Having you suck him off sounds like a reasonable idea. It'll cease those lewd noises you're making for Soundwave, which might soothe Shockwave's minorly bruised ego just a fraction. On heavy, imposing pedes, he walks over to you. He settles by your side, letting go of his spike to instead smooth your hair out of your face. You turn your face to kiss his palm, trying to nuzzle closer.
"Present your mouth to me," he orders plainly.
Your mind is so preoccupied with Soundwave's glossa flicking against your clit with the sole intent to make you come undone that it takes you a moment to register what Shockwave asked of you. Luckily, he can be patient most of the time.
You turn your head towards him, opening your mouth wide and settling your sights on the thick shaft that hangs between his legs.
Taking the base of his spike, he leads the formidable weapon right into the opening of your mouth. You muffle a moan around him as soon as he slips in, the flavours of your previous orgasm and his transfluid melting over your tongue. Your eyes drop to a half-lidded haze, conforming the muscles of your mouth around his shape.
The feeling of your throat muscles tensing around him almost sends him into an obsolete state, his chipsets sparking throughout his large frame. He supposes that even if he can't service you in the way he'd like, you most certainly do a wonderful job of servicing him.
Hiiiiiii! could I request an nsfw tfp Optimus x female reader ? The idea is that the reader wants him to be a bit rougher in bed, so one day she starts pushing his buttons while he’s already in a grumpy mood from work, until she finally gets a reaction out of him 😚
You don't have to do it if you don't want to, but if that's not the case, tyy!! ❤️❤️❤️
𑣲⋆｡˚ tfp optimus prime x human fem reader 18+
-> warnings/tags: minors dni. no foreplay, rough sex, brat taming, slight bondage, anal play, orgasm control. 4.3k words
(this is so late. i’m so, so sorry) anon, you know what's UP!! we love mr. optimus i'm-tired-of-your-shit prime. based on this ask, i think you'd also like this other tfp optimus fic i wrote!!
Defeat.
Optimus knows it well. He's suffered his fair share of losses against his nemesis, Megatron. It's swings and roundabouts, where sometimes the one left standing is Optimus, and other times it's Megatron.
The gloom in the Autobot base makes it abundantly clear that today, they did not come out the victors. Another energon mine has fallen, snatched into Megatron's clawed servos. The Autobot reserves are dwindling as it is, so it's unclear how many more beatings they can take. Megatron's forces outnumber Optimus' by 100 to 1. Utterly unfair odds, but they never complain. They fight on like true warriors, be it against one or a thousand opponents.
"Where's Optimus?" You ask, walking into the foyer of the base. The others are gathered here, although slouching and barely talking to one another.
"In his habsuite," Arcee replies, "But be warned, he isn't in the best of moods."
You hum in response, looking over to the others. Bee, Bulkhead, Ratchet. They're all the same, glancing at you with a pitiful attempt at a warning.
The entire base seems to know it's wise to leave their leader alone.
Everyone except you.
You turn on your heels, walking down the hallway to reach the habsuites. The others barely even watch you go, they don't have the energy for it. Optimus can handle you, surely.
Your feet pat against the floor, echoing up the enormous metal walls. You walk with the same directive you usually have when it comes to meeting with Optimus. Bad mood or not, he's still your partner. You'll sit with him in silence if you have to, but he won't deny you his company. He's been too distant lately, severely overoccupied with the circles the Decepticons are running around them.
Pressing your hand up against the bioreader, it scans your prints. Only you and Optimus have access to his habsuite. You stay here most nights, but you still technically live in your apartment in town.
The door hisses open, and you're met with the familiar sight of your lover.
He's got his back to you, sitting on the edge of his berth with his elbows propped on his knees. He looks worse for wear, noting the scratches that mar his armour. A deep gouge cut across one shoulder plate, the dried energon over some of his components.
The air in this room is tense, he doesn't even need to say anything to paint you a picture of his current mood. Megatron keeps getting away with things, and Optimus hasn't been able to stop him. It plagues the Prime, eats away at him. Makes him question if he's worthy of carrying the Matrix.
You lean against the doorway, waiting for any reaction from him. He definitely knows you just opened the door, but he didn't even flinch.
"Brooding, are we?" You voice, the first one to break the silence. How bold.
He doesn't answer you, he doesn't even flicker in his movements. For all you know, he might not have heard you.
"Because from where I'm standing, it looks like professional-grade brooding," you continue, entering the habsuite. The doors rasp shut behind you, leaving you in the atmosphere that bleeds turmoil. These choppy waters don't frighten you, despite how you should probably be at least a little cautious.
Optimus' helm shifts, not enough to look at you, but enough to tell you that he acknowledges your presence. His silence should be taken as a warning sign, but you seem blind to it.
You smile as you draw around the edge of the berth, peering up at your colossal lover. Should you be taunting a mech that is six times your size? That's yet to be seen.
"So, is this the 'I shall contemplate my failures' pose, or the 'I am being very dramatic and staring into the distance' pose?"
A low, frustrated sigh leaves him. It puffs from him like he's been holding it since you opened the doors.
"Do you really have to ask?" He replies, his tone monotonous and forlorn.
"Right. The dramatic one, of course," you quip back, cocking your head to the side. You're treading a dangerous line, practically dancing with fire.
His shoulders stiffen, and his optics flicker with an emotion you're not quite able to pick up on. Another warning sign from him, another dismissal from you. Most people would stop jabbing him here, but you're not most people.
"Is this not tradition at this point? Megatron slipping through your digits?"
Your words land in a way that proves to fan the flames of Optimus' kindling anger. Not at you, of course. At everything else. You're just making it worse.
"Must you sit here and mock me?" He replies.
"I'm not mocking you," you say back, "This isn't like you. Dejected and thwarted."
"Are you trying to irritate me?" He asks pointedly.
You remain silent for a long moment, locking in your eye contact with him. That's before another sly smile crawls across your lips.
"Trying? My love, I think I'm succeeding," you retort, doing all you can to hold back your snicker.
Optimus invents deeply, breaking eye contact with you to look away. Thunder rumbles under his beautiful faceplates, and you can tell you're starting to get a rise out of him. He grumbles something to himself, but you remain rooted in your position.
He exvents, toiling with himself to bring him back to a calmer level. Seeking his equilibrium, despite your insistence on irking him more than he already is.
"Now is not a good time, Lovelet," he says, his words taut and strained.
"Optimus," you voice clearly, "This cat and mouse game you and Megatron play is a tale as old as time. Why has it perturbed you so deeply on this occasion?"
Maybe talking it through rationally will help him untangle his emotions.
"Because I failed," he replies.
"You didn't fail."
"I did."
"How?"
"He endangered countless lives. I couldn't rein him in, I couldn't control him. I couldn't stop him. I'm failing, and this is my most important duty."
"Has anyone ever truly stopped him? In a way that mattered?"
Optimus' features soften as he looks at you again. His optics whirl and shift as he looks down at you. The frustration is still evident on his features, but he's slightly less jaded.
"That doesn't change the fact that I failed."
"You are impossible," you reply breathlessly. "You are smarter than this, Optimus. You know better. You need to act like it."
"What authority do you have to advise me how to act?" He challenges sharply, that former vexation curdling once more.
You're taken aback by his response. You rarely hear even an ounce of venom leave his intake.
"Don't be an asshole to me, Optimus. It doesn't suit you."
"I've had enough of this," he scoffs.
He reaches down to you, snatching you by the waist. You squeal in protest, writhing in his hold as he stands from the berth to walk over to his desk, exactly where your own little space is. A bed, some drawers, and a few trinkets here and there.
"You never ever listen to me. You never do as you're told. I'll teach you in the language I know you understand perfectly," he rants, dropping you ungraciously onto your bed. You bounce on the mattress, hitting it with a quick fire expletive directed his way.
The Prime hoists himself up onto the desk, mass-displacing during the process. He glares at you like he's been imbued with a new mission, a new purpose. Your breath is stolen straight from your lungs as he approaches you, his footing stern and imposing.
Now the warning signs are getting through to you.
He's at the foot of your bed quicker than you can blink, and your body freezes in the moment. You feel like prey, staring at the predator that is about to devour you whole. Maybe you pushed him a tad too far.
With startling speed, his servo darts out to grab your ankle. You yelp as he yanks you down the bed before leaning over you, leaving you almost trembling in his shadow. Your eyes are wide as your breath is pacing, your fingers and toes tingling with heightened nerves.
You're not able to stop him from undressing you. You whimper as he grabs onto the material of your top, tearing it as though it's tissue paper. Your brows furrow as you feel heat rise between your legs, a jolt of excitement coursing through your lower half. There's nothing sexier than being manhandled by Optimus Prime.
He seems entirely centralised on the one goal of undressing you until there's not a shred of clothing left on you. Your cheeks are dusted with a light shade of pink as he rips your pants down, chucking them behind him. You finally get your ass in gear, hooking your hands behind your back to start fiddling with the clasp of your bra.
Optimus works on your underwear as you do so, dragging them down your legs. You chuck your bra off, leaving you entirely naked beneath him. He places his servos on your knees, pushing your legs apart to take a look at the part of you that belongs to him.
"Wet already," he observes. You can't help it, he's so sexy that you can't control yourself.
He looks away, looking over to your drawers. He takes his hands off your knees, walking over to them. You make a woeful little noise as your head turns to watch him, saddened by the loss of him.
His servos grab the dressing robe that's been flung over the top of the drawers. He takes the belt out of its loops, discarding the main item of clothing back onto the top of the furniture. Turning on his pedes, he walks back over to you, settling at the side of the bed.
"Get up, come here, and give me your wrists," he orders plainly. You can tell by his tone that he's no longer in any kind of testing mood, and you should probably comply before you really regret it.
You quickly shift up the length of the bed, stopping when you're at the headboard. You offer your wrists up to him as if you're being arrested, displaying a doleful look on your delicate features. Maybe he'll take pity on you, but from the look of him in this moment, you doubt it.
He grabs both of your wrists in one servo, yanking them up to the metal bar of the headboard. With precision that you haven't seen from him before, he uses the belt of your robe to tie your hands to the bar. Your pussy throbs with anticipation. You're so in for it.
Optimus tightens the knot a little more before letting go. You gaze up at him, stunned into silence. That's a first.
Your hands tug against the rope keeping you secured to the headboard, knowing that it's pointless to even try. As if you'd ever be able to get out of any binding that Optimus put you in.
His blue optics study you, trailing down to how your chest rises and falls with sharpened eagerness. Next, he looks over at the bedside table. He reaches over, pulling open the bottom drawer before rustling around in hopes of finding something.
Curious, you try to peer over to see what he's up to. He pulls out a rectangular box, and its contents are something you haven't seen for a long time. He joins you on the bed, your legs falling open instinctually. He situates himself before you, flaunting his new possession.
"Where did you… Get those…?" You ask, utterly confused. Why is Optimus holding a box of condoms? How does he know what condoms are? Where did he even get them from?
"You like it when I finish inside of you, don't you?" He asks lowly, tracing his flat digit over the edge of the box. You look at the silver package nervously, hoping that this isn't going where you think it's going.
"I love it when you finish inside of me," you reply breathily. Truthfully.
"And do you think you deserve it today?" He probes, but he already knows the answer for himself. You peer up at him anxiously, you can't take this torturous teasing.
"I— I always deserve it," you reply, but your tone is meek.
"Do you?" He challenges with an air of doubt, popping the box open before pulling out a row of pristinely packaged condoms. "When you take me from my work? When you insist on grating my nerves when my patience is already wearing thin? When you know you're misbehaving, trying to get a reaction out of me?"
"Optimus," you whine, a pout forming on your lips. Your eyes can't look away as he tears off a condom from the others, ripping the gold packet before deftly taking out the protective item.
"I know you're just trying to make me back down!" You retort, yanking against your restraints again. "You just wanna hear that I'm sorry, right?!"
He doesn't entertain your small outburst, instead focusing on taking the lubed condom to the tip of his spike. You almost squeal in protest as he pinches the tip with one servo, using the other to pull it down his absurd length. You're surprised it even fits.
"You don't even need to wear it! It's not like you can get me pregnant!" You continue, getting more upset by the second. Denying you his transfluid is exactly how to get under your skin.
He peers up at you with a steely expression, evidently not shifting. His spike bobs between his legs, the translucent material coating him causing the coloured panels of his spike to be obscured.
"It's too late for that now, Little Lovelet," he replies, his tone deep and meaningful.
"Optimus!" You cry out, the frustration manifesting as tears welling over your waterline. This is not how you expected the night to go. Who knew he could be so cruel? Honestly, life truly isn't fair sometimes.
His servo comes up to cup your jaw, much softer than his demeanour calls for. He forces you to look into his optics, studying you closely. That sorry little look on your face is almost enough to make him take the condom off. Almost.
"I need to hear you give explicit consent before we start. I don't like punishing you, but I need to know you're okay before I take this any further."
You huff a short whine as you strain against the bindings again. You've got such a sad expression. Optimus just wants to draw in and kiss you all over until you're dizzy.
"I want you to take the condom off, Oppy," you mewl, "You're being unfair."
"Not going to happen," he stands his ground. "So? Do you want me to stop?"
Now there's the question. Either have him fuck you with the condom on, or he doesn't fuck you at all. So, what'll it be? Anticipation winds through your body, tightening with every step towards the unknown. Optimus knows just as well as you do what your answer will be.
"I don't want you to stop," you relent with a pitiful expression.
"I didn't think so," he hushes in response before diving in to kiss you. You moan over his derma, sliding your legs up to goad him into getting a move on.
He shifts to rest his weighty spike on your pubic mound. You grind up against it, lamenting the feel of the smooth rubber rather than the perfectly aligned panels that decorate his spike.
"Mean," you mutter lowly.
"What was that?" He asks. He heard you, of course. Nothing gets past him. But he's had enough of you pressing his buttons today.
"You're mean," you clarify.
"I'm teaching you a lesson," he explains as he drags the length of his spike through your folds. "Today, you'll learn you can't keep getting away with being a brat. It'll mean you get your privileges taken away from you."
Damn him and his reason. Does everything have to be a teaching moment? Can't he just fuck you silly and leave you dumb and full of transfluid? Is that really so difficult?
"Maybe if you paid more atten— Ah!" Your protest is cut short the moment he slips his heavenly spike into you.
You gasp a hot moan as your body settles instinctively to the fullness of your pussy. So much so that it actually quietens you for a moment.
"That made you behave, didn't it?" He observes. One might even say he's gloating, if the Prime were capable of such a thing. He's too humble in appearance to truly flaunt it, but you both know that he knows it.
"Mmph," you whimper as he starts to move, swinging his hips with ease.
"Attention, hm?" He says, knowing exactly what tirade you were about to go on before he stuffed you full. "You think I don't give you enough attention?"
"N—Not lately," you manage to reply.
Bastard. He's a bastard. He got those condoms with the pure intention of tormenting you. This is premeditated. You've never even discussed sex safety before, you didn't think it'd be necessary. He's got a meaner streak than people would give him credit for.
"I wanna ride you," you say, "Let me go on top."
"Will you continue to do as I say if I untie your hands?" He asks.
"I will, Optimus. I'll be good for you," you reply earnestly.
He hums shortly before grabbing onto the end of the fleece belt, pulling on it to undo the knot. You slip your hands free, but you don't make any rash moves in fear he might rescind this grace.
He grabs onto your waist, still his hips before flipping the two of you. You moan as his spike shifts inside, and you're impressed that he managed to keep it in. He has many, many talents.
You start to bounce on him as his servos slip to your hips, grasping on to help you move. Low rumbles simmer in his chassis, resisting the deep-set urge to moan for you.
One servo trails round closer to the valley of your ass, singling out one digit before locating your other hole. You whine on top of him, looking at him with a deer in the headlights expression. The approaching change of tides tugs at your nerves, but you trust him. As always.
He presses his middle digit inside to the first joint, just about breaching the tight ring of muscles. You moan, dropping your head down to place your forehead on his chassis. The rush of fullness bombards you, wielding dominion over every cell in your body.
"You can take it," he says. His other servo doesn't relent in its assistance of having you ride him. He's so unbelievably strong that he could probably bounce you with one servo without any issues.
Placing your hands on his chassis windows, you ground yourself as best you can to help you move on him at a pace that'll get you both off in no time.
A fog starts to halo around the shape of your hands on his chassis, your body all hot and bothered in a time like this. The sensation of his thick spike makes tingles skitter across your skin, electrifying you.
You bounce on inch after precious inch, taking every last bit of him until you're dizzy. He spreads his leg struts a little wider, causing you to spread yours too. A weak whimper tumbles from you as the movement makes it feel like he's that much deeper.
Pleasure courses through you as your walls conform perfectly to the shape of him. You were designed to be his, and he was destined to be yours. You're panting and moaning non-stop, like a broken record. There's no other track your mind is on apart from this.
Optimus gazes longingly at you, hypnotised by you. It's almost enough to make him forget that this is technically a punishment. He's not the loudest in the berth anyway, but hearing the gentle revs of his engines and staticky vents is more than enough for you.
"Please take it off," you bemoan, sliding one hand down his chassis in hopes of taking off the condom.
"Do not misbehave," he warns sternly, snatching your arm to stop you in your tracks. He presses the digit in your ass a little deeper, making you arch your back.
"Give me your other hand," he demands. You whine as you follow his order, presenting him your other hand. He wraps his servo around both of your wrists, restraining you once more. It seems you can't be trusted.
You continue to bounce on him, fuelled further by the placement of both of his servos. It's so sexy when he grabs you and toys with you in any way he pleases.
"So mean to me," you sob, moving in closer to him to connect in a kiss. His derma move perfectly against yours. He knows how much you love his transfluid, so you suppose it's a fitting punishment.
"I'll keep being mean if you don't learn to get in line," he murmurs against your lips.
How unlike Optimus to demand obedience. It seems you really have tested his last nerve.
"What happened to my sweet, lovely little Lovelet? Where did they go?" He asks as he starts to buck his hips up beneath you. You yelp with surprise, knowing you're about to be taken for a ride.
"Fuck, Optimus! You're on my—"
"I know exactly what I'm doing," he interrupts. He's targeting your G-spot on purpose, angling his hips perfectly for it.
He's going to make you squirt, but he's going to deny you the satisfaction of being left dripping with his transfluid. At least he's giving you one kindness, you suppose.
"Oh my God, don't stop! Don't stop!" You wail, throwing your head back in ecstasy. "You're gonna make me cum!"
"Not without my permission," he retorts seriously. A defeated whimper bubbles from you, clenching your fingers in his hold. Orgasm control is a new one for him.
"Please! Please! Don't torment me like this!" You sob, fresh tears spilling down your flushed cheeks. You couldn't hold out even if you wanted to. You can't help it when you cum, it's not your fault. He's so good at wringing orgasms from you.
"Hold it, or I'll bring out the condoms every time for the next month," he threatens. Your tears flow more heavily at that. This is such a dilemma. It's a complete conflict of interest, and Optimus knew that this would wind you up far more than any of your smart words could ever hope to do to him.
You're lured further towards his unyielding punishment. The feeling of pure heaven dangles just beyond your reach, it flirts with you in a way that's driving you crazy. The edge calls to you, but all it seems to voice is a maybe. Maybe you can cum. Maybe if you're good enough, he'll let you. But there's no promise of it.
Beneath you, Optimus is amused at how willing you are to obey. Your lust courts you patiently, and all Optimus has to do is grant permission for it to consume you.
Your lover moans as he unexpectedly finds his release. He was so sidetracked with how entertaining you are in this moment that he completely forgot to hold any control over himself. Thick, hot transfluid spills into the condom. A barrier of rubber that robs you of what is rightfully yours. Fulfilment is not permitted, denied by a human safety measure.
"Mine," you whine, "It's meant to be mine."
The oncoming delirium brushes against your thoughts like a wave ebbing and flowing against a shore, the expectation of losing yourself on his spike now too tempting to restrain.
"You did well, Lovelet. You can cum."
There are the magic words. You moan a sharp sound of gratification, overjoyed to finally be allowed to open the floodgates.
So, you let yourself succumb to it. There's no holding back in the way your body trembles as it finally gets to release, spurting a powerful stream of cum all over Optimus' interface panels. Your vision darkens around the edges as you take one last gasp of air, riding the high like never before.
"Beautiful," Optimus says, referring to the face you make when you find your end.
You slow down on top of him, reducing your movements to gentle wave-like motions as you come down from cloud nine. You pant for air, feeling your baby hairs sticking to the nape of your neck and forehead. Your clit is throbbing, and your leg muscles are screaming, but you're more than content.
Optimus removes his digit from your ass, cupping your cheek instead to help steady you. His other servo lets go of your wrists, allowing you to relax into the shape of his frame. Your body heat is so strong that even he can sense it. You really earned your release tonight.
After a few moments of pleasant silence, coming to grips with your bearings once again, you speak.
"Human men like to say that it doesn't feel as good with a condom on," you tell him incredulously, wondering if it's actually true. If he siphoned his own pleasure for the sake of teaching you a lesson.
"I assure you, nothing could take away from how incredible you feel," he answers, "It seems they just want an excuse not to wear one."
"But… You prefer overloading inside of me, right?" You ask.
"Undoubtedly," he replies swiftly, pulling you in for a kiss. "More so from a… Territorial… Perspective. But hopefully you learnt your lesson this time."
Well, doesn't that get you all worked up? The Prime actually enjoys laying claim to you.
"Yes, no more brattiness," you say with a small pout.
"Good," he quips, rolling his hips to grind his spike inside of you. "So how about we take this condom off and go again?"
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Im honestly shocked Animated Optimus hasn’t been requested yet! He’s such an interesting spin on the character and damn is he handsome gjdkdm
May we get a total daddy dom Optimus topping tf out of the reader while making out sloppy style? I am CARNAL for that man you have no idea gjfkdmcncn
⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ tfa optimus x human fem reader
-> warnings/tags: minors dni. no plot, just porn. 69, rough-ish sex. 2.2k words
helloooo!! he’s actually been requested a few times, i’ve just never written for him </3. i unfortunately cannot manage to get through all the requests that come in, so some things don’t get written (which i genuinely feel rly bad for btw LOL). i’m also not a huuuuuuge tf animated optimus fucker. deadass the only version of him i don’t rly like BUT i totally see why ppl love him. anyway, this is a very, very yummy request, so here you go!!
The habsuite doors are double locked as well as bolted. No one is getting in, no one is getting out. This moment is for you and Optimus only.
Right now, the two of you are succumbing to your base needs that always seem to rear their heads whenever you're alone. Lying on the berth, Optimus is eating you out whilst you're on top of him, sucking his spike.
His servos are groping your ass, pulling the mounds apart so he can fuck you with his glossa without issue. You're moaning around the width of him, wiggling your hips back against his faceplates.
He hums into your heat, more than happy to be smothered by you. You slide your mouth up and down his spike, addicted to the taste of his prefluid.
Your tongue swirls and traces over the panels that make up his spike as you greedily take more and more of him into your mouth. He moans as you tease the sensitive metal, unable to help the gentle bucking of his hips to subtly fuck your mouth.
His glossa wags and strokes you incessantly, moving as one might expect from a mechanical being. No part of you is spared, from spearing his glossa inside to licking your twitching clit to drag you closer to euphoria.
Perfection exists in the form of his glossa. He has unparalleled talent, and you're grateful that he demonstrates it all for you. You're losing yourself on the end of his glossa, but funnily enough, it's where you feel most in sync with yourself.
"Pretty little pussy," he mumbles into you. You suck him like it's your life mission, undeterred and unrelenting. Your hand tosses what your mouth can't reach, already spreading a thick layer of your saliva over your palm. The haze of eros peels away your ordinary emotions, leaving nothing but raw sensation.
"Love sucking you," you reply with your mouth full, obstructing your words. You would suck him off every day if you could, there's no greater feeling than his thick spike heavy on your tongue.
"And Primus knows I love it when you suck me," he burrs back. You moan against his shaft, sending pleasant little vibrations down his length. His hips buck a little harder this time, forcing the tip of his spike down your throat.
Your eyes water as you get used to it, but you don't complain, and you adapt surprisingly quickly. You can hear the sound of his wet glossa lapping at you, his greed evident in the sounds of content coming from his exhausts.
Too excited for your own good, you don't stop rolling your hips back against his face. You're riding his face the best you can in this position, and he's exactly where he wants to be. Your obscene moans are stifled by his fat spike stuffed in your mouth, much to his delight.
You're gagging like a bitch in heat on his spike, happily forgoing your own oxygen to please him. What pleases him in turn pleases you, so it's a win-win situation.
He grunts gruffly as his leg struts start to shake. You smooth your free hand down his thigh, feeling the tremors beneath his frame. You pace your breathing through your nose as you carry on just as you are, knowing that he's close.
His glossa and intake slurp heavily over your needy pussy as the feeling of your mouth wrapped around his spike finally pushes him over the edge. You hold your breath as soon as you feel the first gush of his transfluid, hitting the back of your throat before being forced to swallow it down.
Bits of his release drip from the corners of your mouth as you struggle to take all of it, but you do the best you can.
He borderline growls at the taste of you and how your clit throbs against the plates of his glossa. His servos grip your hips, pulling you backwards to have you sit fully on his face.
You yip as his spike is yanked from your mouth, your body not long enough to reach his delicious spike when you're seated like this. You strain to reach, but his servos won't let you budge.
You moan loudly as he uses his grip on your hips to start gyrating you over his face and intake. He moves you in wave-like motions, practically suffocating himself in your heat.
"Oh my God, Optimus!" You cry, tossing his length as best you can to make up for the lack of mouth work.
He's saying something, you think. But it's utterly muffled, completely unintelligible. Flushes of heat swarm through your body like an inferno, you're hardly able to focus on anything but your rapidly approaching peak.
The taste of his transfluid is still cradled on your tongue, your mouth watering at the promise of a euphoric high just moments away. Your balance is unravelling, the delirium from needing to cum is the only thing keeping you anchored right now.
Your hand tightens around his spike as your mouth drops open, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you feel yourself come undone. You wail with a pitchy whine as your orgasm possesses you, mind and soul.
He drinks down every last bit of you, savouring your taste just like the first time all over again. His derma slide against you as he ventures to clean up all he can, parting from your pussy with a light smacking sound.
You pant, drawing back every breath he just stole from you. His glossa darts out to lick his derma, his optics honing in on the wet mess between your legs. It's a sight he's certainly proud of.
"I want you beneath me," he announces boldly. You mewl at the streak of dominance, shimmying yourself off of him. Your wet pussy hits the cool air of the room, sending shivers spilling up your spine.
He sits up before bringing himself to his knees, grabbing you firmly by the waist before manhandling you into the missionary position. You yelp a little, flustered by his grand show of strength, before settling on the berth.
"Come here," he remarks, pulling you further down the bed by your hips to nestle you firmly beneath him. You look up at him with the entire galaxy in your eyes as he preps himself above you.
With a couple of jerks to his length, he lines himself up to you. Your legs pry open further on instinct, letting him take exactly what he wants.
There's no hesitation in the way he sinks into you. Your back arches as you moan, enjoying the stretch. Your legs wrap around his waist, eager to pull him in closer. The world tilts beneath you as you swallow down the dizzying sensation of his spike making a home within your walls.
He begins to thrust in and out, steady and firm at first. He relishes the way your wet pussy welcomes him, how it devours every inch without protest.
"You're so tight," he curses quietly. He enjoys it thoroughly, it always has him coming back for more. You are a delight he will selfishly keep to himself until the end of time.
"Optimus," you whimper whilst you rock your hips underneath him, chasing maximum pleasure.
"Baby," he hushes hotly.
God, it sounds so right coming from him. You've never wanted to hear a term of endearment so badly from anyone in your life.
Your hands travel from the back of his helm to the back of his neck, and then to his shoulders. You just want to touch him all over, to feel his sleek frame beneath your touch. There's no way you'd ever be able to get enough.
You're whining crudely straight into his intake as his glossa works with your tongue. Saliva and oral lubricant are already escaping out of the corner of your mouth and down your cheek as he steals all of your breath. Your eyes are rolled back as you claw weakly at his back, trying to pull him even closer to you.
His hips are practically bouncing off of you, he's reached a state of rhythm that's unyielding and relentless. He's fuelled further by the lustful sound of your wet pussy squelching from his fat spike decimating your hot walls.
"You've got such a wet little pussy," he mutters into your mouth, "I love the sound it makes when I fuck you."
"Harder," you whine, "Want it harder."
"Do you now?" He huffs a cocky laugh.
"Yes," you insist with desperation, "Please ruin me, I want it so bad."
"Since you asked so nicely," he coos playfully before having his glossa invade your mouth once more. You moan, rolling your eyes back as you continue your dance.
He ups the pace, swinging his hips harder and faster. You yip and moan in his intake, wrapping your arms tighter around his shoulders to pull him in impossibly closer.
The sound of hot metal slapping against clammy skin fills the room, and there's no other sound quite like it. You wouldn't trade it for the world. His derma are hot against your lips, intoxicating you further with every drop of oral lubricant he weaves into your saliva.
This is filthy. Utter horniness without any bounds. He needs this, you think. He deserves to let loose every now and then. It's rare for him to take you in this way, so you'll enjoy every minute whilst it lasts. Adrenaline ricochets off the two of you, rattling between the limited space between your bodies. Your lust is circling faster than your rationale can follow, but he loves you like this. He loves you needy and pathetic, with your eyes in the back of your head and saliva slipping down your cheek.
"You think the others can hear us?" He almost chuckles in the moment.
Between your incessant whines and moans, and the salacious sound of your lovemaking, you can imagine they probably can hear. At the very least, they'll have a vague idea of what's going on.
"I hope so," you mewl back.
His engines rev at your response. Whether you mean to or not, you always know what to say. You moan at the sound of his engines. The two of you are in an echochamber of lust, bouncing off each other with every little thing. Thrill is sweeping you both off your feet, coordinating with each other purely based off the cardinal need you share for each other.
"You're so naughty," he huffs with a grin, running his glossa over your plump bottom lip.
"You made me this way," you whimper back. It's true. He got you addicted to him, got you hankering for more and more. He turned you into a vessel of greed, and your hunger knows no limits.
"And I wouldn't have you any other way," he coos in response.
His hips are unrelenting. His spike bulldozes through your plush heat like there's no tomorrow. You're going to be little more than a puddle of fucked out bliss by the end of this, likely covered in bruises to serve as further evidence of your sinful acts tonight.
You're clinging onto him for dear life, screaming and moaning until your voice feels sore. He feels so good, better than anything you've had before.
"Fuck, don't stop, Optimus!" You cry out.
If the others couldn't hear you before, they definitely can now.
"Are you close, baby?" He drawls seductively.
You nod your head with a whimper, coiling your legs tighter around his waist. You just need him to call you baby one more time, and you'll be set. It'll be your undoing.
"Again," you pout as your vision starts to blur.
"Come on, baby, cum for me."
And that's what it does for you.
You wail with a whine as the knot in your core unravels, sending pulses trilling through your body. Your walls clamp around his thick spike as your legs quiver, fresh tears prickling in the corner of your eyes. Your head is spinning, loosening your grip on reality as you're boiled down to nothing but a horny wreck. You welcome the tremble in your body, wearing it like a badge of honour.
"Overload in me!" You beg, "I want it! Please!"
"Eager little thing," he whispers lowly with a shit-eating grin plastered on his beautiful derma.
He fulfils your wish, groaning deeply as he continues to fuck your needy pussy before spilling rope after rope of thick, pink transfluid straight into your womb. You moan weakly at the feeling of his warmth spread through you.
"You make such sweet sounds," he compliments sultrily as he slows his hips. He transitions into a deep, grinding motion against your aching core. You sigh airily as you push your hips up beneath him, aiming to get every drop as deep as you can.
"Keep milking me just like that," he shudders a vent at your pulsing pussy.
Just wanted to check, how is that knight au with Optimus going 👀👀👀
IT'S COMING. IT IS. I SWEAR. the skeleton is basically finished now so i have a structure for it. i just need to start WRITING IT. i'm hoping once life is fine and normal again i can get to it!! i'm thinking (but not trying to pressure myself) to get it out in july, but i will ANNOUNCE when i have it in the baggggg >:))
(u optimus fuckers (me included) will have some optimus smut tonight tho <3)
Life can get overwhelming sometimes, and the fact that you're still trying your best even when things are difficult says a lot about how much you care about your readers. Your health, your happiness, and your well-being will always matter more than any update schedule or fic upload.
I know a lot of us found comfort, joy, and excitement through your writing, but that's because there is a real person behind those stories. A person who deserves the same kindness and patience they give to everyone else. If writing one fic a week feels like too much right now, it's okay to slow down. It's okay to rest. The people who genuinely appreciate your work aren't just here for the content; they're here because they appreciate you.
Please give yourself the same grace and understanding that you'd probably give to someone else in your position. You don't have to earn rest, and you don't have to push yourself beyond your limits just to keep people happy. Your stories will still be there when you're ready, and so will your readers.
For now, focus on getting through whatever you're dealing with, one day at a time. I hope life becomes a little gentler with you soon. Thank you for everything you've already shared with us, and thank you for continuing to try even when things are hard. We're rooting for you, and we'll be here whenever you're ready to come back. Take care of yourself first, you deserve that more than you know. ❤️
you are so, so kind!! thank you so much for being so caring <3 this is truly very sweet of you. i'm trying not to be too harsh on myself. i genuinely do enjoy writing though, and it's very cathartic for me (yes, even when i'm writing sinful things). i'm missing it like CRAZY right now, but hopefully life will get back on track soon!!<3
kinda going thru it atm guys i’m so sorry for not being super active </3 hoping life will be back on track soon and i’ll be writing more often ASAP!! trying to post at least one fic a week but even that is a stretch for me rn so i rly appreciate everyone being so patient <3
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The people need to see the warlord whimper for reader!
₊˚ ✧ tfp megatron x human fem reader 18+
-> warnings/tags: minors dni. dom!reader, oral. not thoroughly beta read. 3k words
thank you so much for the patience on this one, i know it took me a hot minute to get round to it <3 i hope you enjoy!!
Life can sometimes be tedious for a human on board the Nemesis. No day is like the other, but you're rarely permitted to partake in any kind of activity. Megatron protects you to an almost obsessive degree, not allowing even the slightest hint of danger to come your way.
Thus, you're often left to your own devices in the perimeter of your shared habsuite. Megatron does what he does, which you understand to be something morally reprehensible and possibly a significant danger to your home planet, but often, you find yourself looking the other way. It isn't your business.
That doesn't mean that you like to stay put all of the time. One can only stalk around the same four walls so many times before you start to go a little stir crazy. Megatron has increased your luxuries in here in hopes that you'll never tire of it, but you still want more. You've become greedy like that. You have an arcade, a gaming station, and an activity area with trampolines and such. But that stuff can be boring when you're alone. It's only really fun when Megatron is here with you.
Speaking of, he hasn't been back to see you in what feels like hours. Maybe even close to all day. It's hard to tell the passage of time in here, so you're left hazarding guesses based on your body clock.
So, you're currently standing before a full-length mirror next to your bed. You're clad in the skimpiest excuse for lingerie that a human could fathom. Purple lace and string are just barely keeping you decent. You play around with the elastic around your hips, making sure it sits just right, before you put your plan in action.
Content with the way you're put together, you reach for the device on your bedside table. It could be considered a phone, but the only person you can contact with it is Megatron. So, most of the time it's just a paperweight.
You pull up the camera function, posing in the mirror before snapping a few quick pics. You decide not to dawdle on it, out of fear that you might back out if you think about it any longer. The thrill of doing something like this sharpens your senses like a whetstone on steel, you just can't seem to resist.
Swiping up on the pictures, you send them straight to Megatron's processor. Exactly where all communications from you go. You think he's probably in a meeting with his high command right now, which means that your little gift might be a welcome surprise to motivate him through the rest of it.
You put the device back down, and wait for the cogs of your plan to start turning. You grab a sheer purple robe from your bed, threading your arms through it and leaving the front untied. Who knows how long Megatron might take to respond? He's a busy mech, after all.
On the other side of the Nemesis in the bridge, the images flash up in Megatron's processor. The orders he was barking to his vehicons are strikingly interrupted, turning into mumbles and jumbled words as his optics flicker with light.
It's certainly a feat to catch the Mighty Megatron so off guard.
━━━━ ✧ ₊˚
Playing with one of the arcade claw machines, you push and pull the lever in attempts to grab the plushie that you're after. The uses are unlimited, and without cost, so you can do this for as long as it takes.
Just as the claw goes down to grab on, the habsuite doors hiss open. You hear the unmistakable booming steps of your gargantuan lover, his keen optics already scanning the room for you.
There he spots you, in the row of arcade machines along the right-hand side of the room. He nearly growls, causing you to shift your focus from the machine over to him. You turn on your heels, looking up at him with a sheepish smile. You're still there in only lingerie and the robe that leaves nothing to the imagination.
He moves over to the machines, shifting down in size at an alarming pace. He's got an expression on his features that you can't quite read, and that feels dangerous. Exhilarating, but dangerous. You chuckle nervously as you start to shuffle back through the row of arcade machines, trying to put space between you.
It doesn't take him long to be at a suitable mass-displaced height, and he doesn't hesitate to start stalking you through the single alley. He looks at you with fire and lust, like an animal honing in on its prey. Your breath starts to pick up as you continue to move back, almost without meaning to.
"Megatron," you announce his name softly.
"You know what you did," he responds, closing the gap between you quicker than you can extend it.
"Are you angry?" You reply, truly not sure.
That's when your back hits against the wall. You're backed into a corner, and with large machines on either side of you, there's no place left to go.
He draws in, standing mere inches away from you. He looks down at you, engulfing you in his wide shadow.
"Far from it," he replies, trailing his servos up to grab the slopes of your robe. He pulls the material, pushing it over your shoulders. You let it go without protest, allowing it to fall to the floor in a light puddle.
"You distracted me in front of my troops," he hushes, hooking his talons under the straps of your bralette. He lets the material run through his touch as he moves down to the cup without actually removing anything. "You made me fumble my words."
"Then I suppose I got a good reaction out of you," you reply, your tone more confident now.
"Will you make good on your senseless teasing?" He says with a quirk of his optical ridge.
With strength befitting of a mech of his stature, he tears your bralette in one action. The scraps of material fall off you, which proves to send a bolt of excitement through you.
He maintains eye contact even as he dips slightly to grab the flimsy material of your underwear, tearing that clean off you as well. You don't flinch or gasp, you simply enjoy what he's doing.
"You should get on your knees," you hush to him.
"You would like that, wouldn't you? For me to bow to you?" He retorts, nipping your bottom lip ever so lightly.
"Am I not deserving?" You ask quietly, "Am I not the one who always has you crawling into the berth for more of my pussy? Have you ever been like that for anyone else?"
He practically purrs at your filthy words before landing his derma on your lips again. He takes exactly what he wants at a suffocating rate, but you manage to keep up.
Like gravity demanded him, he drops to his knees, breaking apart the kiss. You sigh as you peer down, seeing his ruby eyes looking up at you.
"Is this what you were thinking?" He asks, kissing against your pubic mound to tease you whilst maintaining eye contact.
"Nearly, all that's missing is a little more of your glossa doing what it does best," you reply sultrily.
His long, snake-like glossa rolls out of his intake, already dripping with lust. The length of it slides through your folds and teases your clit as if it has a mind of its own.
You moan, placing both hands on his helm for stability. He starts to play a tune on your body that he knows will make you cave in no time.
"Oh, baby, just like that," you moan with a whine.
His glossa is an invention of pure genius. It winds and slides with utter ease, and doesn't have any issues in stimulating every corner of your twitching pussy. It's such a treat whenever he goes down on you.
One large servo wraps around your thigh, hiking your leg up to hook it over his shoulder. You moan airily at the new position, curling your toes behind his back struts. It gives him easier access to you, and right now, he's exactly where he wants to be.
You can't look away from him. You're obsessed with the sight of him on his knees before you, servicing you exactly how you need. This is what you've fantasised about for so many nights.
Your back arches against the wall as he swirls his glossa around your clit. He laps at you with eagerness, desperate to get you to your peak. Your taste is one of the finest things in the universe to him, he can't get enough. He drinks from you, sating himself in the storm until he's full.
Right now, you're calling the shots. You led him here with those indecent pictures, and now he's following your every whim. He's moaning into your cunt, sending vibrations through you that manifest as pitchy whines from your lips. You want him to keep going until you're on the brink of exhaustion, until you can't feel your legs.
His talons clench onto the meat of your thighs harder, trying to anchor himself to reality as he feels his senses being lost to clouds of lust. You pull him deeper into your pussy with your hands, needing more of him. You start to grind your hips against his faceplates, smearing your essence all over his intake as his glossa sloppily keeps up.
Up, down, round and round. His movements are relentless, he won't leave you guessing for a single moment. You are the only meal that could ever hope to satisfy his hunger. Thank God he doesn't need to breathe, it means that he can indulge himself in you as much as necessary.
You're so worked up that you're not sure how much longer you'll last. Usually, you like to bask in it when Megatron goes down on you. But everything leading up to this was so thrilling that you're already teetering on a high. You're gasping, little moans and mewls, tightening your hands on his helm until your fingers go pale.
He knows it won't take much longer. Your tells are glaringly obvious to him, and it only motivates him to work harder. He punishes every one of those sweet, sensitive spots of yours. Every sound uttered from your lips is for Megatron's audials only, and he's drowning in them.
"Close! I'm so close!" You moan out as your legs start to quake. Megatron's strong servos keep you steady, steadfast on his mission.
Your body feeds on lightning as your end unravels in your core. The cliff's edge is a feast for your nerves, your veins dining on adrenaline as you cum all over his beautiful face. The rush continues to climb through your spine like a shot of fire, leaving you almost drunk on the velocity.
Sliding your leg off his shoulder, you huff a few short breaths as he begrudgingly parts from your needy pussy.
"Lay down," you demand hastily, placing your hands on his shoulders to urge him back.
"On the floor?" He asks with a glint in his smile.
"I can't wait another second," you answer. Surprisingly, he follows your request and reclines back onto the floor. You quickly straddle him, slotting your knees on either side of his hips to hover your dripping pussy over his throbbing spike.
"Come take a seat on your throne," he suggests with a playful grin.
You shoot him a grin of your own, grabbing the base of his spike to hold him steady before you lower yourself onto him. You moan at the stretch, at the way he glides effortlessly into you. You were made for him, and your body is proof of that. The two of you fit together like lock and key.
Wasting no time, you start to move. You ride him with a strong roll of your hips, earning a satisfied grunt from the beast beneath you. His servos find your hips, grabbing onto them. The curves your hips fit perfectly into his servos.
You bounce on it like it's the last thing you'll ever do. You're selfishly chasing your pleasure, using him as your personal sex toy. His enormous servos grip your hips harder as his vents get more staticky.
To Megatron, you are a temptress sent to him to distract him from his mission. He hates to admit it, but you do a fantastic job of it. There's never been a time when he's been able to resist you.
You're almost halted with surprise when you hear him groan, followed by a familiar warmth spilling inside of you. You look down at him with shock, slowing your pace a little. You didn't expect him to finish so fast, that isn't like him.
"Mmph, fuck," he grunts with heavy vents. "Don't stop. Keep riding me."
"Can't get enough?" You giggle with a light roll of your hips. His premature release stirred something up inside of you, and you like it.
"Do it," he nips.
"Say please," you taunt.
He growls beneath you, not one to take a bruise to his pride so easily. He grasps your hips tighter, enough to almost make you wince, but you hold out.
"Stop teasing me," he grumbles.
"Na-uh," you stand your ground, "I wanna hear you say it."
You squeeze your pussy on him, trying to teeter him on the edge. You do it in waves and pulses, making his optics flicker. You will get what you want.
"Please," he whimpers desperately.
You have to stifle the shocked gasp your body almost made. Whimpering? From Megatron? The mighty leader of the Decepticons?
"Oh," you sigh before you start to move again. "More of that, please."
He groans, pinching his optical ridges into a frown as your movements up their tempo. He lets out a vented moan, feeling his leg struts fizzle with pulsing electricity. He's so sensitive right after an orgasm, but he'd be damned if he tells you to stop.
There doesn't seem to be an ounce of embarrassment from Megatron regarding his whimper, which proves to you that you could make him to do it again. Maybe it was a slip of the glossa, but it had your clit throbbing with excitement. You're even more motivated and eager now.
"Make that sound for me again," you plead with a whine. You never thought dominance would feel so exhilarating, but when you have one of the most powerful entities in the universe preening beneath you, it gives a different kind of thrill.
He's too lost in your pussy for any pride to take the forefront of his processor. He lets go, and with it, comes another whimper. Right now, you can lead him anywhere, and he'll happily follow.
"That made you wetter," he hushes as his helm tips back. The pleasure engulfs him in his entirety.
"Because it's so hot when you do that," you answer.
His previous overload is already spilling out of you as you move. It's making a mess of your pussy, his spike, and his panels. The high fizzles through you like uncorked champagne. It's wet, hot sex that might go on all night if you two don't rein it in. Sometimes the two of you can get so high on pleasure that you go at it for hours on end without even realising. You're grateful to have a lover who has the level of stamina he does.
His optics refocus, drawing over to your body. A film of sweat is already forming, making you almost glisten in the low light of the room. Your chest rises and falls as you try to keep your breathing steady. But his favourite sight is definitely your tits bouncing in time with your movements. His optics lock onto them, imaging how much he'd love to suckle on your pert nipples right now.
"You like what you see?" You hum, ghosting your hands down to rest over his, which are still gripped around your waist.
"Yeah," he replies airily. He's never felt this swept away by an encounter with you before. With anyone, to be specific. Your body does something intoxicating to him. "You have no idea what you do to me."
"Fuck," you curse in response, "You make so horny, Megatron."
"Please cum," he whimpers once again. When it rains, it pours. He'll never hear the end of this after tonight, something you assume will not best please him. You're chasing his whimpers like wolves chase scent, tugging at his leash whenever you feel it may be near.
"How about you overload in me again and I'll do it? I wanna be full of your transfluid, Megatron. Wanna be practically bursting at the seams with it," you admit hotly.
"That's all I needed," he groans, fuelled infinitely more by your seductive words.
Upon your command of it, he finds his second overload of the night. He spurts hot, thick fluid straight into your cunt to mingle with the remnants of his previous load. He stutters a vent as his hips buck up into you, riding his high for as long as Primus will permit it.
"Holy fuck, Megatron," you moan. You're loving this new side to him. You never took him to be the type that would behave this way, but you certainly aren't complaining. Your bones are itching for that edge that you're so familiar with, leaning towards the chaos like flowers towards the sun.
As his reward, you hurtle off the same edge of euphoria. You choke on a moan as your hips refuse to stay still, your pussy tightening around him in an attempt to milk anything he has left. You sing with wildfire as your synapses flare, living on the sparks of this encounter. Megatron groans, finding a last bit of pleasure in how your pussy grips him.
Maybe you'll have to send him risky stuff more often.
should actually have a full fic up tmrw btw <3 but here’s a lil smth for now!
Strong servos are planted on the back of your thighs, pushing your legs up so that he has an unobstructed path to eating you out.
His glossa laps at your sappy pussy with a ravenous hunger. It’s bordering on embarrassing how sloppy and loud he’s being; moaning into you, slurping on your juices. Even the most salacious would blush.
“God, that glossa of yours is divine,” you moan mindlessly.
He hums into the meat of your pussy, far too gone to give any real thought to a response. You whimper as you try to grind your hips up into his intake, greedy for even more.
Every stroke of his thick glossa has your head spinning and leaves you breathless. There are worse ways to start your morning, that’s for sure.
‘Megatron, where are you? You’re late!’
Ultra Magnus pings in his comms. It momentarily pulls Megatron out of the fantasy.
He parts with your pussy for just a moment to send a reply, but the first millisecond of his invent, your hands fly to his helm to pull him back down into your pussy. He makes a startled noise, which carries over on the comms.
‘Megatron?!’
“Don’t you dare answer him,” you moan as his glossa gets back to work. “You need to finish what you started.”
‘S—ohf—rry, busy.’
That’s the only answer Magnus gets before Megatron disables his comms entirely. Albeit muffled by your hot cunt.
