#softmetals-writes

They’re the enemy, he shouldn’t be doing this and needs to stop it, but how could he when you look so good like that. Watching your lost expression, optics off and moaning loud into his chassis as the leader pulls the 'con down on his spike again. The prime sitting back against a tree with them on top his lap as they grip his gauntlets in pleasure.

He’s a Prime for Primus sake! A Prime and leader of the Autobot cause, he should be ashamed of himself for wanting this. What would the others think if they saw this. Seeing him willing bounce a ‘con as they mewl and gasp for him, feeling his thick spike stretch them over and over. He should be leading by example, needs to pull you off and apologize. To say it was a mistake when he accidentally grinded into your aft when pinning you, chassis down into the grass. But seeing the sight of you taking him at a pace he had set, he couldn’t help it.

You arched further into his heated frame when taking him again, baring your neckcables to the Prime while he buries his spike deeper into the warmth of you while you ride him. He can’t tell if it’s the heated mixing of yours and his fields that got him wanting to rut deeper, or how his name sounds when you moan it in pleasure, letting him use his strength to keep a comfortable pace. Primus do you look good riding his spike like that, moaning like that. Feeling your thighs spread more open over his pelvis in invitation to encourage his hot spike deeper into your heat and takes it. Pulling your hips down on him harder and slight faster with a groan. Grinding up ever so often to test of you could take all of him.

Venting hard, he feels one of your servos palm up his front to cup the back of his helm. Tugging him down onto your intake with a combined groan, the sound of differing pitches mixing beautifully. Not registering that his mouth guard had shifted away at some point during interface. Not that it would’ve bothered him as your glossa was quick to hide within his own metallic mouth, moving and smoothing against his own with want. Kissing him so passionately with such desire of him, for only him and it finally clicks. You wanted his spark, wanting to show that through interfacing with him. That you dared to show your intimate interest in him to him and he growls low at that, among the other noises that you both were making.

Nipping and mouthing as your other servo now finds itself moving up to thumb his helm’s audio fin and he bucks up hard. Gripping his helm with a heightened sense of need as you try to lean up into his mouth, moaning deeply at the unique taste of him. Groaning into your joined intakes as the pace increases, your valve taking him with little difficulty, pulsing each time he hits deep and you shout. So blissfully lost in the welcoming heat of your body and your lovely glossa, the prime attempts to bottom out. After all, he didn’t want to hurt his ‘face partner when he was so big, not when they willingly allowed him to indulge in another’s frame. But now thinking on how you’d feel stretched fully over his throbbing spike, stuffed full of just him. It’s got him wanting more from this.

With a darkened desire to see you stuffed full with his transfluid and throbbing spike, he begans to buck up. Thrusting up his pulsing spike while digging his servo’s digits into your aft’s meshing to pull you down on him harder, startling a cry of his name from you. The sound muffled by his mouth and you have to shift to handle the new pace. One servo moving to grip tightly onto his chest while the other stays cupped the side of his helm. Fields flaring at the other in desperate need while internal cooling falls behind, trying to cycle in cooler air and vent out increasing heat.

Finally that feeling hits Optimus, the valve opening to you now rocking harshly down on the base of his aching spike. The valve’s meshing shifting and pressing hard on the node of his own valve has him unlatching from your intake to violently throw his back his helm in new found pleasure. You hardly notice the mech’s harding grip on you as your pulled more harshly onto his spike when bottoming out. Beyond awareness of anything but the thick head pressing into spots you didn’t even know you had and still demanding more, rolling your lower half as he grunted in utter bliss. Accepting the attention given and rewarding it back with unashamed sounds.

What would the Autobots even think at this point were he to get caught slamming the Decepticon down on him. Long, hard strokes down the length of him. Pulling you up while always keeping his spike’s head in, to then have you drop hard onto his equally hard bucks as you shift and grinding out a yelp. Completely helpless against the harsh pace and loving it, feeling the entirety of his fluid-filled spike sliding in and out, leaving no part untouched.

Vents hitching, Optimus’ pace slightly falters. Feeling a different kind of heat start flaring up from under the other physical feelings experienced, a need to coat and stuff your insides with his thick glowing release. Wanting to feel tighten on him as you shout his name while squirm from being filling completely. Now wanting to feel the splatter of his excess as it paints your inner thighs, only now remembering how badly he missed the heated frame of another. Wanting to claim and breed you.

Shuddering hard, Optimus senses the change in your field. It was as if you too wanted to be claimed by him despite belonging to the opposing faction. That change also came with the gasp and loud moan of you reaching your peak, the opening of you catching and attempting to keep his length in.

Completely and utterly gone, you moaned breathlessly to his change in movement, letting the leader shift and roll you over to lay on your back to thrust more deeply into your messy valve. Responding to this, your stabilizers moved quickly to lock over his pistoning hips to help him rut into you. His body pinning your frame down with each thrust, one of his servos leaving your hindquarters to interlace with one of yours that had found itself laying above your helm. His other shifting to compensate for the lesser grip, helping the leader press and rut harder into your now bullied insides. That of which has no choice but to endure, begging for another round of his thick load. Frames trembling, hips barely leaving that slicked mess between you two that coated abdomen, array and thighs.

Before long, Optimus catches up. Still using his own hot and venting body to now cage you, helm rubbing affectionately at the side of yours, to then dragged kisses from cheek plate to intake. Groaning dazed from the sudden affection in his field and your own flutters back. Responding in kind with a moan and glossa affectionate as him explore, submitting to the attention. Accepting him, willing to be claimed thoroughly by Optimus if he so desires it. Thrusting quickly, he pulls out almost completely before slamming deep into your drenched valve, being aided by you when you had used your hooked stabilizers to hasten his need to fill you full.

With that final push, Optimus plugs your clutching valve with this big spike, grinding firmly onto you, hips snapping quick to pump you completely full of his large and thick transfluid. The finish was so intense that it took a sec for his spike to swell into a knot, both of you groaned from this new tightness and in response, you both had groaned in unison. Sound muffled by your locked intakes. He’d ensured to keep in contact with your mouth, grinding his now swollen knot into the hot, stuffed heat of your now exhausted form. Some of his seed had escaped before the knotting, now smearing across the area above and below.

Slowly, Optimus rocked his strong frame against you, listening to the muffled gasps and soft moans emitting from the softening kiss. Both of you calming down from the intensity of your actions. Pulling off your mouth, he rests his helm against your own.

Eventually, you open your optics, having closed at some point, gazed up at him above. Affectionate blue softening at your own soft gaze. Intake slightly open to vent excess heat and drawn in cooler air. The sight before him has him second-guessing his fear of being caught, not a hint of ill-intent, just a return of affection. You purr happily, bringing a servo from where ever it was to cup the side of his helm and lazily play with the audio fin there. Leaning up to quickly steal a small peck of his metal lips and he purrs in return.

Shifting a free servo, you gently trace the side of his helm with the back of it. Optimus responds by nuzzling it and your helm. His optics still focused on you.

The mech's optics widened, not expecting to see a colored pair gazing undefined back at him from the dark recesses of the room. Oddly enough, the Prime wasn't scared like one should be in this situation. The figure obscured by darkness tilted their head slightly when the mech got up, dropping the data-pad on his desk. He knew who's eyes those belonged to, there was no doubt when their bio-lights activate. Pulsing slowly, attracting the Prime to take a step towards them.

Though he couldn't see their faceplate, he knew just from their optics alone that they too wish the same thing as he. A place behind closed doors, somewhere away from the sights war and the pain of what they were.

Prime wanted to speak, but there was no words. Was there even a need for words. The look in those bold crimson eyes, though easily missed were it anyone else, told him he didn't have to speak. Their eyes soften at the mech before them. Their helm tilted to the other side and for a moment.

Neither of them spoke for a while. Unable to look away from the other, Optimus vented. The other, bio-lights brightening, stepped out of the darkness and towards the Autobot leader. The seeker's wings fell to hang low as they got close, now faceplate to faceplate with him. Though the war ragged on in the background, the air the moment created made it feel they were elsewhere in the universe.

Voice low when speaking your name while feeling unsure, knows the consequences and yet, he couldn't find the strength to reason. Optimus knows better to fall into the spell the seeker has put him in, but at the same time, there was no one else that could help him they way they could. Only in the comfort of this Decepticon, could he truly be himself, if only for a moment.

"Optimus." They spoke back, as quietly as he did. The 'con reached out to gently take the servo of the bigger mech's, looking at it for a moment, then bringing it up to their intake. This action sent shives up and down his metallic spine, hiding his optics and letting out another soft vent.

You had always been kind to him. No matter the battle nor location, or even how badly the fight became. Joining the Decepticons hadn’t changed your outlook about him either. War was war and the only comfort during it, was your visits.

Optimus felt his servo move from their mouth to the side of their helm, nuzzling into it with a purr and he smiled at that. It was something the ‘con only did with him, only within his company. It was cute.

Looking up, you carefully reach up a free servo to cup the mech’s chin gently. Gazing at his optics longingly, saddened by a thought that crossed your mind but not speaking it. Like revealing it would ruin the moment and it would’ve.

He knew better than to ask, after all it may be related to future Decepticon plans and though helpful to know, he’d rather you not perish if their meetings ever got loose. Your optics darken for a brief second before brightening, another thought, this only was one you’d follow.

He'd be ruined if his people knew about this. To see their beloved Prime all hot and lusty, licking and suckling the panel to your array. Your thighs over his shoulders to keep him steady and his servos on said thighs tighten slightly. What would the people think were they to see such a sight. It was beautiful.

Your panel muffled a groan from the mech, glossa sliding along your design. Prime wants it open, wants to play with the seams between your pelvis and legs as he smothers himself. He has the power. Knows it. Could easily command you to do it, but then he's lose what makes this so erotic. After all, it's not easy to be a Prime. To keep both Cybertron and the Quintessons fed. So what's the harm in indulging his fantasy.

He continues to drag his metal tongue across your plate. Sucking the spot where your sizable spike is hiding, then shifting down to lick and kiss the valve's spot on you. Frustrated at the lack of voice from you, you're such a spoiled bot. Spoils you by letting you have such authority over him. Though then again, the praise you give is oh so much better than what his people give. More personal and only for him. Just him.

Primus do you get him all hot. Making him do all the work just to get a taste of your offerings. Sentinel pulls back a bit to puff a vent against the plate, gazing up at you with big pleading eyes, his helm now resting on your abdomen. Is he doing a good job? The best even? Can he have his meal now?

You looked away from one of his datapads with a soft eyes. Primus does he adore you.

"Hmm? Something wrong, my dear?"

That voice of yours drifting sweetly from your lips to his audios. A servo- one that previously held his datapad- drops down to cup the top of his helm, gently rubbing there while a digit lulls him further into the haze in circular fashion.

The Prime wanted to speak, blue optics brightening as he thinks and you vent softly. The tug of the collar makes him whimper, forcing a pant from the mech. For a brief moment, Sentinel's eyes dart to the leash that's loosely looped around your free gauntlet, the lead from there to him pulled him slightly.

"Go on sweetspark, tell me what's on your mind." Gaze remaining soft as you continue to gently rub his head soothingly. He's reminded that, that tug was just to focus him, not hurt him. You're so good to him, so patient when he fails to speak.

After nothing but silence, you decided to make his choice for him. You already knew what your sweet Prime wanted, but for him to not have the words, he must be that wound up.

The servo petting him smooths down the side of his face to gently grip his chin, tilting his helm in preparation. Your position over him was awkward- Your thighs still over his chassis- But as if you'd let that stop you from bend yourself closer to his helm for a hot kiss. Nuzzling your helms together and take some of his bottom lip into your mouth to tease the Prime. Optics never leaving his during the moment and he shudders at that.

This power you held over him— he wanted it. The feeling of a haze settling gently to overcome selfish desire of his need to control and command one's perception. Feeling the gentleness of your touch despite having the collar loosely snug around the Prime's neck and still wanting this self-inflicted vulnerability.

Glossa sliding across his lips before sliding in-between and he whimpers. A sound he'd never make in the presence of others, they'd think him a weak Prime. Feeling the faint tug of the collar again, he let's his intake fall open, his glossa letting the others do as they please. Groaning into you, attempting to follow as you pull away to lean back into his chair. Thighs spreading slightly more in invitation.

"Good pet."

Had caught himself staring after spotting the ruthless display of battlefield dominance when pulling back to observe the incoming victory of the Decepticons.

You had but glanced his way after tearing out the spark of you most recent victim, then turned back to continue the fight. Their blood dripping down your form. The feeling from your burning hunger ran deep within him. Twisting and cascading down his spine to circle around his war trained spark. The current battle forgotten as he focus on you and you alone.

Watching intensely as you, from across the distance, cut down those ahead of you. Energon splatter outlining your frame, whispering of the danger you posed by mere existence to you prey and that strange feeling catches him again. Studying as your chosen weapon brutally connects against the frame of the enemy and they crumble. More life-blood spilling, adding to the glowing patterns left by your previous attackers.

War wasn't for the weak. The Decepticons themselves desired pure strength. Strength, skill, cunning. You certainly had that. Practically dancing across the battlefield. Of course no one is perfect- No one was- but the movements after getting knocked down or pelted by bullets seemed to only further open more opportunities to strike back harder in return. Making any real setback a calculated counter-attack.

What faction do you fight for? Was one of many thoughts both racing though his head. Shifting like the Rust Sea itself and too does your movements with such swiftness and danger. No one moves the way you do, bait and switching and more bodies fall. limbs tearing from sockets and liquid splattering out however it could.

He honestly should be fighting. Can feel the plasma fire hitting his platting. Energon charged weapons harsh shouts aimed at him but you're the only thing important currently.

And there's your optics again! You're looking right him from the corner of your optics- Helm tilted down, acting coy- Knows now you noticing his stare and you smirk. Barely visible because of the distance and constant metal shifting between you both. But it's there, feels it deep in his core and that grip on him from before coils around and squeezes his spark. No doubt you feel prideful knowing he sees you. Watching intently despite a mech swinging a sword down on him.

This battle is far more important than some unknown bot. Instinct kicking in to dodge the attack and counter with a well aimed attack to their back. The poor warrior having no time to react to their own demise, as their spark pulses it's last.

He pulls back, tearing out said spark. Pushing aside the broken frame and crushing the organ above him, showing off his gradatory might for you to see, then discards it too. Now splatered in the same colour you looked so heavenly painted by. He looks back to were you stood before and your missing. Did you see what he did? He showed off for you. Only you. But now your nowhere to be seen. Where did you go?

The strength, speed, skill, everything. You knew what you were doing here, didn't you? Making your way onto the battlefield to tease him then flee once you got the attention from your future mate? No, your not getting away. You're too valuable to let out of his sight. Will have his bots scour this planet, tear apart Cybertron if he has too to get you back in sight. Such power you behold must be his to claim.

"Hey big guy, did something happen?" You tiredly, yet softly asked with a yawn. She'd fixed her covers up best she could and settled back into her warm bed, awaiting his response. Optimus didn't answer and this bothered you. You brought up her free hand to cover another yawn and spoke more gently. "There's no rush Optimus. If you'd rather not say yet, then don't. Just know that you can always come to me if needed."

Though Optimus still didn't say anything, his quiet whimpers were just barely audible now. It was minuscule, but noticeable to you. With no knowledge on what happened with the bot yesterday, it didn't mean he had to explain it right then. You thought for a while, lightly sighing and deciding to get out of bed. Your carpeted bedroom was chilly, making it's human inhabitant shiver. Though living in a city like Detroit, it never got super cold, only when winter was about. Your socks created further warmth as you carefully navigated a way though your darkened bedroom towards a rectangular-looking cushioned windowsill. The human awaited the mech's response still, picking up and unfolding a spare blanket to get cozy on the windowsill balcony.

"If words are too challenging, you could always just come over for a snuggle. Sometimes... when I feel lonely, I hug and cuddle what I care most about. I don't have a lover or anything, but my favorite plush usually does the trick." Now covered in a light stream of moonlight, they attempted to comfort the young bot by inviting them into her apartment. Though it sounded stupid to do so, you did recall Optimus having a human form of sorts. Full of sensitive feeling and all, just like one's real body. Perhaps feeling warmth beside him and within reach could ease his spark. Even if for a moment.

"I... that's kind of you..." Optimus finally replied. Though still gravely upset over something, his human friend knew better than to push it. Especially at this time of night. It was as if they knew he was exhausted. You yawned into your shoulder this time, smiling tiredly into said appendage.

"I mean it. I used to do that with my dad. It was the only way I could sleep as a kid when I got a nightmare." You explained, pulling close the warm blanket that covered her person. "I figured that, well, if it's that bad-"

"I don't want to talk about right now."

"-then you can tell me in the morning. I just want to make sure you're alright. Physically, mentally, emotionally too." You looked about and down at the city streets, the ones that could see from there anyway. It was now obvious that Prime just needed someone, whether it be over the phone or in the same room. But for Optimus, it would be healthier for him to stay with you overnight. No need to call if you both were side by side.

"Won't I bother you?" The young Prime's words sounded slightly more awake, yet remained undecided.

The woman chuckled. No matter the state he was in, it was always her comfort and feelings that he'd cared about most. Even if he was the one that needed that attention more. You liked that about him, always concerned about what others have to say.

"Optimus. Some humans do this for the people they care for or even love." You responded, closing you eyes to breathe out a sigh. Work had you all day yesterday and it was starting to get to you now. Even with sleep barely being held back with their yawns, you had someone far more important right now. "Having someone beside you does help with sleep. I was lightly joking about us cuddling, but if it helps, you can hug me close. My bed is rather big, so distance can be made if you're uncomfortable."

Because of the silence received from his side, you wasn't sure if your favorite mech had fallen into recharge. But then again, from the sound of his voice, he was more awake. A reaction made by her offer. It was a sweet gesture for a human to make. Let alone made to a bot like him. You didn't doubt the possibility that he also might’ve glitched. Was just another possibility.

"Don't you have work?"

"Don't worry Optimus, I have the day off. I'll most likely be out like a light once we're both in bed anyway." You was grinning a bit now. The idea that Optimus may get some proper sleep was a nice thought. Even better, he'll get to be more close with her, as he had wished previously. They met each a few weeks or so after Sari took to them. The human had actually helped Optimus personally. A new group of kids wanted Firetruck rides. They just wouldn't leave the poor bot be so you had stepped in.

Although they weren't able to properly spend time together, they did accumulate some here and there. Despite this however, you knew the alien wouldn't harm her. You wouldn't have offered this if you didn't trust him with such vulnerability so early on. And luckily he seemed to understand this, being honored by it.

"I might take you up on that." Finally, the bot responded. It sounding more decided now.

"Please drive carefully, I don't want you falling into recharge on the road."

It was torture. Being unable to do a thing in retaliation, his faction already loosing faith in his leadership. Any attempt to stop the wandering servos only proves the deterioration of his mind. Purple optics narrowing and another low, barely audible growl emitting from his chassis. Keeping the sound quiet as decepticons around the leader worked in quiet, helms down and out of his business. Knows he’s losing it, making no mention of it as to keep their lives.

The lower servo from the owner behind him, feathered over his modesty plate. Finding the edge of such, they dip into the seams between to stroke the cabling underneath. Megatron stiffens, grip tighting on his gauntlets that sat crossed behind his frame. Resisting the urge to fight, to not make a fool out of himself.

Punishment via his desire for power. Dark energon flowing through this spark, corrupting him. Touching him. He couldn’t do anything about it, hated it.

Helplessly, he lets loose a soft shudder. Frame starting to tremble, a spark of electrical charge running up his spine. Both servos now tapping at his platting. Beckoning him to open up and he resist. Another low, quiet growl slipping out his intake. Spark pulsing at a faster rate, wanting to reach for that heated field that coiled around him from behind. And he resists it again. Even as the charge within his system builds.

You’re now pressed up behind him, moving your servos more boldly. The touch now more firm as they play with his platting. Smoothing over thigh and abdomen and back up, then down. One shifting up and around his right arm, trailing behind then down to his free servo. Tugging it for his attention.

Megatron knows well how this game is played. Guarded and over-protective when it started. Lashing out upon hearing the sound of distant laughter and taunts. Finding no one is sight or nearby. Believing his mind, he had Soundwave scan the entire ship. Camera and motion sensors checked multiple times and doors checked. There was nothing. No one was messing with him, not even Starscream. Knockout had advised him to ignore the figments. ‘No more than mere hallucinations.’ He had stated.

Servo tugging at his pelvic platting, Megatron held back a grunt. He was feeling that familiar heat now, shimmering up from your wandering servos. Purple optics brighting with spark of need. Clearly deciding to tease harder, they fell from his servo to skim and cup his aft. Rubbing and playing there a moment before shifting further between his thighs to dare a touch toward his shielded valve. The other servo at his plate’s front dipped slowly encompassing to meet the tips of the other and gently grip the plate. Continuing to fiddle and grope him with this new touch-based tactic.

Megatron couldn’t deny the respect and disdain you gained from him. Respect earned from learning from each encounter between you two and disdain for those encounters had taught you something new. No matter how small the info gained, it bared weaknesses unknown to himself.

Those servos moved once more, shifting to sit on his hips. Digits easing back in between pelvic and thigh platting. Adding pressure into the gap, teasing him further. Megatron could feel his spike stirring to pressurize, disgusted at himself for what this mere illusion did to him. What you could do to him.

He was losing at this game and knows it. Without any distractions soon, he’s be forced to leave the command deck. A mech of his standing wouldn’t allow such sinful temptation to overrule his mind. Interface was beneath him. You most certainly was beneath him. Yet heat flared up, entertaining the very idea, and you laughed snarky, mocking him. Reminding him that you can see inside his head.

That thought weakened him. Megatron forgot you know what he knows, knows how your servos, your touch and field feels. Drowning him with that reminder forces his optics shut tight with a quiet vent. Barely able to hold back a snarl and now his restraint cracks a fraction when suddenly feeling the heated vent puffed to the back of his exposed neck-cabling. He he hadn’t noticed that his helm was tilted forward. Was that your doing or his? The slow creep of that temptation finally taking it’s toll.

The heat of your frame, the playful wrapping of your field against his frame, the skilled touch of one of your servos slowly enclosing up under his helm to forcefully grab and snap his helm back to-

Megatron swung around to back hand you, quick to defend himself from humiliating himself further. He looked around with a snarl, frame shuddering hard from heat buildup. The warlord scans the command deck for you. But you had vanished without a trace. The only ones present all looking his way at the outburst. Can’t even blame that seeker for his behavior and knows it. All your teasing touches, field, heated air, everything you did and was had disappeared with you. It was the faint echoing of unadulterated laughter being the only clue to that you were even there.

Now suffering from heat, was almost unable to stop his panting. Composing quickly, his spike throbbed uncomfortably housed behind it’s plating. Desperate for everything that you are, Megatron left the room without hesitation. Escaping the fearful, confused and curious stares from the deck crew.

——Heavy NSFW Warning!——

Further warning: This feels darker than intended, but I’d like to keep it. Please be fully aware of this warning before continuing. You’re not weak for not reading the rest of the story, just want you all to be safe. This is a big Trigger Warning!

——You have been warned——

Megatron snarled, throwing a harsh punch at the wall once inside his personal room. Barking cybertronian with venomous hatred, delivering another devastating hit against a different wall. The sting from his now leaking servo meant little compared to the humiliating display of weakness you got out of him. You almost made him whimper. His purple stare scanned his quarters, still growling highly creative cybertronian insults.

Helm snapping quick towards his berth, he finally spots you posed enticingly across it, a sickening fanged smirk meeting his bared ones. The mech huffed and panted from numerous, murderous emotions that threatened to consume him. That hunger to tear out your dark energon fuled spark, his purple optics narrow at your also purple optics. Still pushing his buttons, you seductively wink, smirk never leaving your face.

“You’re a pest.” He spat, still panting and you chuckled sweetly in response. Snarling again, splattering more energon onto the wall with another punch. Feeling the air shift, Megatron looked back at the berth and found you missing. You’re going to do something, make him feel helpless again. Stiffly walking the room, he’s reminded by discomfort of his swollen spike, array now fully online. Despises how easily you riled him up. Body aching for you, spike craving your heat. And you know, minds linked by Unicron’s blood.

Your touch on his aft catches Megatron off guard, fumbling to turn your way. Tripping and falling back on his berth. Before the mech could do anything, his helm is pinned back by a servo, forcing the gladiator to arch. You pushed harder up into that spot right under the helm. Your other servo skims up his thighs, over his array cover to his waist. Your frame following your guiding servo, the other kept him arched by sensitive neck. Digging in harder to force his defiance growl down, replacing it with that humiliating whimper.

Stuck arched, you grind modesty plate to modesty plate, saddling his thick thighs. The digits on his waist start to dig, using it as anchor to further keep him arched back. The servo strong around his neck, he can’t vent properly like this. You were never that strong, never showed it. Both servos feel like talons, cutting into him as you keep grinding hard against him. Coercing him physically into revealing his array, fully aware that you could’ve force it open manually.

Shock couldn’t have weaken him that much. Megatron knows he can stop this. You’re just an hallucination. Can’t hurt him like others could. He resisted Unicron a few times before as well, his mind strong. So why can’t he resist you. You’re not even real. Yet, he feels that familiar pain of this digits splitting open, energon leaking from his waist from the harsh grip you got from on him. Groaning in pain response. Helpless. Frame shaking from the prolonged position he’s kept in.

Feels those sharp servo move down some, causing more injury. Grip there releasing to then claw into his lower abdomen, above his array cover. A threat.

‘Open or else…’

You voice flowing through him, echoing in his mind. Never physically said by you, too busy focusing on the grip right under his helm anyway. A pressure in his processor forming, much like Unicron’s influence. A painful nudge trailing the order. Megatron’s self-control slips briefly, making a choking-like noise as the array plating freed his pulsing spike and valve. Shuddering violently, you let go of his neck to then grip his leaky spike. Thick, heavy and full of transfluid, begging to begging to stuff you full of its offerings.

Body falling flat, Megatron pants, now able to vent somewhat more properly. Gasp, internal cooling now able to activate but doing little against the intensity of everything current. Heated, needy fields now mixing, his still fighting for some semblance of control. Still has his mind, but it’s on the verge of shattering. And you’ve have yet to properly start.

Megatron misses the sound of your modesty platting shifting open, unable to resist moaning a growl upon feeling a valve now grinding harshly into his. A spike not his rubbed then gripped against his tight by you, now adding to the painful pace being set. He’d take back what he’d thought if he could. The two different paces being set with two different physical attentions, this was torture. Your valve rubbing hard and urgently on his, forcing his and your spikes up into a tight but slow thrust down to meet hips. Agonizing, having to hold onto what little control his mind had left while attention was split. Making difficult to focus on anything. Even you hadn’t said anything since that command.

With Megatron’s attention split three ways, you knew he’d break at some point. Though no denying it, it was impressive. Watching him hold himself together with some battle left. Listening to the harsh growls, snarls, glitching moans. Honestly, it wasn’t your master’s idea to weaken or even break this bot’s idea of independence and greed. His clawed servos finally responding somewhat to grab your hips. Trying desperately to push you off him, to stop the multiple assaults on both mind and body and it was cute. Failing like those before him, Megatron wasn’t the first.

Before long, all movement ceased. His mind clinging to what’s left, he sucked in a vent. Frame working overtime to dispel the heat burning him inside. His purple optics flicked, mind hazily trying to piece together what was happening, now that he could thing. Could still feel you on his thighs, the painful thick throbbing of his overfilled spike, his over-sensitive valve messily pressed flat against yours. Your servo wasn’t on him anymore either. The other though, cut somewhat deep above his pelvic area. Can feel the energon bleeding out of him to pool under. Pain flaring from the injuries.

The only sound currently heard, was that of his own making. Harsh vents circulating out hot air for cooler air. Megatron couldn’t even think to think. Flexing his claws, he was able to identify you more clearly. Despite being unable to properly focus. Could feel his blood start running slightly colder however. Was that your doing or his mind playing tricks again. Not that it mattered right now. He did feel that familiar stare you’d give, can’t tell the emotion, but least he knows where you are.

After all that, the unashamed touching to getting him into berth. The intense building of both heat and charge and then just, nothing. He didn’t move, couldn’t even if he tried. His frame wouldn’t stop trembling, too lost to even try settling it. His spark too, also unable to make sense of things. Pulsating irregularly. Is that the dark energon’s doing? Barely able to hold the thought before losing it, continuing to look at the ceiling of his quarters. Grey walls melding together with the haziness coating his optics.

Megatron flexes his servos on you, digging into you when you decide to shift. Doing a cheeky wiggle to rub your valve on him to make him shudder in response. Your pleased with how submissive the warlord is, now making your next move. Servos sliding firmly up, they land on his broad, spiked shoulder armor and drag yourself up his messy form. Pressing your valve into him and up the length of his spike. Earning grunt of surprise, managing to focus enough to look down his frame to you. Valve kissing the messy head of his spike, your optics looking up to meet his. Your stabilizers catch up to help hold you over him.

The mech under your form tenses. Claws tightening further to pierce the plating and tries to tug you down onto him. The need and desire being too much to handle, needing you on him. Looking at you conflicted. Attention now solely on you taking his aching spike. You coo, surprised he’s now onboard with finishing this encounter. Maybe you’ll just let keep his freedom a little longer. Unicron won’t be happy with you, but you’ll get to play more games until your dark master demands Megatron’s eternal servitude.

Your field finds his scattered one. Servos releasing from their perch on his shoulders, skimming down to rest on his sides. Megatron manages to let loose a soft groan, helm falling back as you sink down on him. Valve stretching, taking him somewhat smoothly with all the mess coating them both. Hips rolling softly and you arch your backstrut back with a soft gasp. It was night and day with how gentle you started treating Megatron with. Unable to fight the urge, the mech under you tiredly attempts to lift his hips to meet yours. Got a moan out you for that, spike widening you more. Having all that transfluid trapped in it really made him feel much thicker then before.

Feeling the burn halfway down, you start pulling to sit back down, yourself panting at the feeling his spike gave. Megatron feeling the tightness your valve provided, gripping and catching the soft plating on the cable, nudging further in each lowering until eventually taking him in completely. Hips meeting hips.

Megaton’s clawed digits tighten further in his haze, taking some semblance of control back by quickening the pace. He was close now, oh so close. You allowed the warlord to do so, encouraging the movement by moving more desperately. Gasping and moaning his name while your own sharpen servos cut up his waist even further to spill more of his darkened energon onto the berth below.

Finally the end was in sight. Megatron thrusting up hard into your pulsing valve, the pain of leaking wounds mixing with the needy heat of desired release. Both your sparks on the brink of exploding. Shouting your master’s name as Megatron shudders with a whine, his overload pulls you after him. Finding yourself stuffed full of the mech’s fluid, you laugh, knowing now it was only a matter of time before Unicron had him. Looking down at the large mech underneath you, you find yourself chuckling. The poor mech must’ve been so exhausted from everything that he had shut down. Would be the perfect time to call your master.

But for now, it was time to leave. You had your fun and there will be a next time anyway for him to take his spark.

It was quite a while before his systems rebooted. Still in a haze, Megatron attempted to recall the last moments before shutting down. Though difficult, he managed to recall a bot and some, quite vague images of them taking his spike. Too dazed and confused to really remember. Field flaring outward to search for yours, only to find nothing. The feel of your body too had disappeared. He was about to move his servo, thinking that your had just rolled off him after the shutdown, but instead felt something shift it’s grip on his spike.

"It's for your own good." Star Saber told you with a soft tone. "I can not risk you getting hurt again." Placing one of his big servos onto your shoulder, sighing behind his mask.

He knew you wouldn't be happy with this, not when you were excited to show the progress of your training to him. This mission was far too dangerous. Knowing that those Decepticons- Deathsaurus and Leozack especially- wouldn't hesitate to target you the moment he drops his protective guard of you.

It wasn't like you were incapable of fighting or anything, he just cared deeply about you, much like with Jan. Jan was human, so it made sense, but you? Was he still mad at you for that little experiment? The one that left a quite noticeable break in the wall. It honestly wasn't your fault when the questionable liquid had started to bubbling and hiss.

As expected, your gazing up at him with those big, wide optics of yours. 'Puppy dog eyes' as adopted son had described it. Having grabbed his servo and now held it with both of yours to your chassis. Saber's reaction was expected.

And that would've been the end of that. Had expected to go wandering around the Shuttle looking for something to do other than train. Your shift had already ended before Saber and the other Brainmasters left. But clearly the others didn't trust you.

Both Multiforce and the Rescue Patrol Team had be told to stay. Other than Mach and Tackle- having been sent on their own separate missions- Wing and Waver had decided to lock you in your room.

"It's for your own good, kid." Could just barely hear Holi and Jan in the background, muffling their laughter. You'd make them regret doing this to you. The reason: They clearly forgot about the vent that was just big enough for a bot of your stature to squeeze into.

Multiforce's aid with training would be their downfall, sneaking past the common room some of the bots here held in and toward the storage area. You're pretty sure you saw some very useful stuff in there. Lo and behold, your materials were just where you left them. It was a breeze getting the vent cover off quietly, gathering your items into sub-space; some nice big tins of paint, bear sized white net... a few laser-based motion detector...

---

Deathsauras and his Breastforce almost got away. Liokaizer was kept busy by the other brains while he had contended with Deathsauras himself and like other fights before, Death' had caught onto the reason. Doubling down on information across their many fights, taunting him with a shark's smirk about Saber's weakness of you and the boy, Jan.

The Decepticons would've gotten away were it not for the Dinoforce screwing up their side of the plan. The side of the Thunder Arrow suddenly exploding, a chunk of the hull getting shot right at the Decepticon leader. Being bitter about the humiliation and promptly getting his aft handed to him- again- Deathsauras called for a retreat. The ship being nothing more but a smoking cloud in the distance.

"Commander! Kid's not in their room!" Star Saber had to stop himself venting out a sigh. After that close call with the Decepticons, he had hoped you'd be good for one mission so he could focus on protecting people. Luckily, there weren't too damaged from the head-to-head. Checking up on the other 3 Brainmasters and once confirming they too were alright, they mentally prepared themselves for the search of you.

---

Everything was falling into place. Although you were hoping to get back to your quarters before any of the Autobots realized you were missing. It was really funny watching the 2 teams scramble to find you. Looking everywhere and anywhere. Peaking through the vent’s grate above the room, Holli and Jan were freaked out. Moreso, Holli was. Spinning his help to look behind him with a face looking like that. You wished you had a camera or recorder.

None of the teams had found your surprises, and that was surprising. It's not like they're a Decepticon trap, some harmless fun. Like that bubbling liquid you threw at that one wall. Star Saber's probably still annoyed at you for that. Swear it was an accident. This however, this was payback for locking you away from freedom. Saber would've never done that, to kind and caring to be that mean.

"Don't tell me your scared of them." Fire's voice drew your attention. Venting slow as you try to still yourself to avoid detection.

"Whaa? Don-don't be ridiculous! I'm not scared." Face flushing with embarrassment. "I'm the leader of the Rescue Patrol Team, I'm not allowed to be scared."

"Leader Holli's scared of them."

You continued to watch in amusement. Eyeing the spot ahead where your trap laid, hidden. Holi did have a reason to fear them. You'd be too if a bot somehow vanished from a locked room with no way out. Mores so, if they was revenge for it.

Jan yelped, a beep noise sounded and Jan was swapped up by the net, now hanging from the ceiling. The group shouted having been startled by the hidden trap. Then off in the distance in a nearby hallway, Something sounding like heavy metal hitting the ground.

Your plan worked like a charm. Quickly covering your face to try muffling your chuckling.

Moments later, multiple sets of pedsteps entered the room there were all in. The Brainmasters had returned and were covered in an assortment of paint colors. Laster however, was somewhat spared. The poor mech had a little splotch of paint pink on his chassis. Unknowingly, the 4 brains had triggered yet another surprise. Pink paint spilling out from the bucket that sat upturned on his helm.

"Aww, Holi's wearing his girlfriend's colors!"

An down armored Star Saber sighed tiredly. Though he was lucky to have taken off the Star Saber Armor before searching, it didn't excuse the fact that he had been caught by the situation. This would be a nightmare to clean up. Wing, Waver, Dash and Tacker haven't any clue where you had gone off to.

"Star Saber." Laster started, grabbing the attention of said bot. Seeing Laster looking at a direction, his own optics followed, spotting a pair of glowing optics within the darkened vent.

Though the two neared the room they’d talk more openly in, Orion’s caught onto a voice, dominating yet strangely warm. It echoed from a room he didn’t peek into, unlike the other rooms. He stopped, turning back to look towards the room they’d passed.

“If you can’t even land a hit, what makes you think you can survive your first match.” Not necessarily a question, more the voice was disappointed. It took a moment for Megatronus to notice that his new ally had not just stopped, but had gravitated towards one of the pit’s training rooms. Watching the younger bot inch towards the entry.

“Hear something of interest?” A small half-handed chuckle left the steeled mech’s metallic lips. Orion didn’t respond. His spark seemed to pulse outwardly, then respond to the conversation within the room.

“Understand this, you will perish if you cannot fight properly. Just because Megatronus now oversees this place doesn’t mean it’ll be any less tougher.” Though the voice was still cold, it also held an emotion Orion wasn’t able to properly discern. Understanding? Pity? Maybe worry.

“Just teach me the stuff I can use against Megatronus, yeah? I wanna kick his aft in.” Rudely, the other voice that was more gruff sounding, responded annoyed by their teacher.

The grey servo of Megatronus landed on Orian’s furthest shoulder from behind, barring a sharpened grin down at him. Orian snapped out of the trance to give his acquaintance his attention. Meagatronus nudged the clerk closer toward the room’s entrance.

“I promise they won’t bite.” The gladiator stated knowingly, sharp dente still showing. Orian, now with permission, didn’t hesitate with his next actions. Heading to the doorway to see whose voice had such an effect on him. Not listening any further to him as the gladiator added, ‘Much’ in a hushed tone.

Stepping into the training room, it took a moment of gazing out the various training weapons to spot the bot that attracted his attention, startling him with a loud clang. Standing over the newbie, ped at each side of the said bot’s waist section, was the voice’s owner. Their slightly darkened eyes stared downward with wings flicking up from its lowered position, unimpressed. Resting their servos on their waist, tipped digits scratch its owner’s hip-plating, leaving behind thin scratches from their sharpened talon tips.

Orion froze, enamored by the seeker that stood before them all. The sheltered clerk couldn’t help it, barely taking notice of Megatronus’ taking note of his expression as the younger mech mapped out all the plating details, scaring and such. Despite being the smallest in the room, Orion found himself somewhat mesmerized by the larger seeker. Dare he say, drawn to her.

“Frag you…” Groaned the mech under the seeker.

“Don’t blame me for not listening to the lesson.” Their wings perked up upon hearing her fellow gladiator clear his throat. That cold gaze vanished when the seeker identified Megatronus, turning their helm toward him with a acknowledging nod. “Good to see you back safely, Megatronus.”

“M-Megatronus!” Gasped the trainee below.

Megatronus grinned somewhat wickedly in return, “It is good to be back within trusted company.” He ignored the gasping bot, preferring to keep his attention on his fellow gladiator and close friend. “I see we have another future gladiator, let’s hope they last longer than the others.”

She tilted their helm to the side, frowning slightly. “If, they listen.” Helm straightening, the seeker’s optics drifted tiredly down from her friend to the new, smaller mech. Brow quirking up slightly in question. Orion found himself locking optics with the gladiator, unable to shift his gaze from her colored optics. She, however, did. Returning to look back up to Megatronus, she continued the conversation.

“Iacon didn’t treat you too poorly I hope, I was worried the council would attempt an assassination while meeting up with your contact.” Optics softening slightly at the idea. Her wings lifted up slightly more, revealing hidden scarring and older wounds. Lowering back down to a comfortable position.

“Funnily enough, no one cared for my presence. All the more reason for us to be seen as more than slaves.”

“Agreed.” With that being said, her attention was brought back to the mech that laid under her. “Get up, you’re embarrassing yourself.” Voice stern, but not harsh. Stepping aside to allow the laying bot to do as told. Megatron lightly scoffed, amused with said mech. Turning her attention back, she noticed the new bot was now looking her over in detail. Admiring her frame with knowledge of her returned attention. “Is this your contact?” They finally asked.

“Indeed, Orion here has access to the entirety of Cybertron’s data and more. It’ll help us expose the council for Cybertron’s corruption, hopefully allowing us to be what we’ve always meant to be.” Megatronus placed his clawed servo on said bot’s shoulder, forcing the bot back to his senses to see the two gladiators looking at him. Knowing he’d been caught staring at the seeker, Orion internally cringed from embarrassment.

“Uh, Orion Pax. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He introduced himself, attempting to hide his embarrassment of being caught ogling. Orion nodded with a shy smile, tightening his servos at his side. His spark was acting funny and he had sent the clearest idea why or how they had such an impact on him. Why he found himself unable to look anywhere but at the gladiatorial seeker before him. The feelings growing wasn’t unpleasant, he’s just never felt this way before.

“Pleasure is mine, little one.” She bared her fangs slightly in a teasing tone. This had a visible affect on the young bot. The sudden playfulness had gotten him sputtered a question. “W-what’s yours?”