[botsncons]

➜ That's the spirit. 「tfp」 (megatron!audios)

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🚑 ꒱ 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐭.

Choices. 「tfp/bv, m」 ➜ Where ratchet gets tired of you not listening to him.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐨𝐮𝐭.

It’s all in your head. 「tfp, m」 ➜ Knockout thinks humans are gross, but Y/n has a great way of changing his mind.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🗡️ ꒱ 𝐦𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧.

The titan’s victory. 「tfe, m」 ➜ Megatron puts an end to your teasing.

[decepticononline]

ROTB! Optimus Primal X Human Female Reader

A/N: Was working on another request and the ROTB trailer dropped and I'm so insanely down bad for this man that I had to make this. I know the movie hasn't come out yet but let's just use context clues and pure horny to work this out. This will take place in the late 80s since the movie does.

Warnings: cunnilingus, hair pulling, overstimulation, vaginal sex, feral behavior, breeding kink, doggystyle, dubious consent, a bit of murder and gore of course.

Summary: Everything is peaceful on the military base until Optimus introduces the Maximals as new allies.

(This chapter is kinda long but completely worth it because I intend for this to be rather nasty and unhinged).

"There we go Cadet!"

You wiped the sweat from your brow before turning around to look at your superior in irritation. This base was staffed with two hundred military personnel but when it came time to do housekeeping work on the base rarely anyone ever volunteered so you and five other cadets got selected for it.

It was currently your job to hang up banners that were written in English accompanied with a cybertronian translation to direct the bots when and where they could use mass displacement, get energon and see a medic.

"Is it even?" You questioned the Cadet below you that happened to be Ellie, literally the only person you trusted on this god-forsaken base.

Ellie gave you a thumbs up which permitted you to come back down from the latter.

"Why are we hanging this shit up again? We already have enough of these signs."

Her red eyebrows were furrowed up in confusion and it was obvious you weren't the only one feeling overworked.

"Sergeant Kay says that Optimus will be bringing new allies this evening. And Mirage accidentally pulled down the other signs trying parkour." It sucked how it was always up to you to clean up someone else's mess.

You immediately took a long sip from your canteen after answering her question. It's October but the base hasn't yet regulated how much heat to put out to combat the cold weather, so outside the base was 50 degrees and inside it was almost 80. This was the only time your base allowed everyone to wear normal clothes instead of their uniforms.

"Okay I'm done here. Going to go hit the showers and then get ready for the event later."

"Watch out for Aiden!" Ellie laughed before taking the tape roll from you.

You visibly cringed when she said that and rolled your eyes. You absolutely loathed Aiden. The guy was a massive weirdo who has been trying to sleep with you since high school. Just last week you reported him for harassment after he blocked you from exiting a hallway to try to take you on a date. Ellie handed you the box cutter and the marker in case you needed it when you completed your inventory shift later. After she playfully saluted you goodbye, you walked off to the shower room before drying off and heading back to your room.

It didn't take you long to find out what you wanted to wear, so you packed your essentials in your purse after doing your makeup, hair and putting on your dress. You debated on wearing heels but wore them anyway because they did go with your outfit. You left out and took your normal route out of the main facility through the halls to the ceremony room.

You joined a group of soldiers who were all wearing formal wear and entered with the crowd. The room looked the same as it always looked every day except for the Autobots lounging on the other side of it. The ceremony room was an old hangar so it gave them all the room they needed to walk around freely without needing to use mass displacement.

You had already missed the highlights of the welcoming of the new military recruits but with how everyone was standing around Optimus you assumed he was going to give a speech. You joined the crowd and noticed Aiden was staring at you from the corner. You simply smiled and shot your middle finger up at him and turned to Optimus.

"Autobots…Humans… We have had such a profound alliance with one another. I have saved lives with many of the people within this room regardless of species-"

You basically tuned him out after that part since it had ideally nothing you do with you, you weren't a soldier, you were simply a cadet. You've never even stepped foot on the battlefield so you weren't going to listen to praises that didn't belong to you. You looked over to your left to see if Aiden was still staring and he definitely was, he always just had this blank empty look on his face.

You sighed once you noticed the Hangar doors were slowly beginning to open and started paying attention.

"-I humbly invite the Maximals to join our alliance and work with us on our journey of equality for all sentient species."

The door slid completely open and your jaw dropped. They were giant cybertronian….animals? You looked over to Optimus to see if this was a joke as did everyone else before the animals actually transformed into full fledged cybertronians too.

"Their designations are Cheetor, Rhinox, Rattrap, TigerHawk, and… Optimus Primal. We both share the same name due to our lineage within leadership."

Your eyes darted between the five mechs before you noticed the one in the middle was practically scanning the room. He had a face similar to Optimus along with his size but he certainly didn't look as friendly as him. The mech was a very faded dull colored silver and had prominent green optics that darted all over the room. It was clear that this one had been the cybertronian version of some kind of feral looking gorilla.

His optics looked around until the lime-green orbs stopped in your direction. You weren't sure if he was actually staring at you or just looking within your general area and it was making you uncomfortable. He had some kind of padded felt or synthetic fur draped around his shoulder plates.

"You may all refer to me as Primal. There is one Optimus already here."

You watched as the entire group of Maximals entered the hangar and the other humans were noticeably uncomfortable. It was clear that none of you were happy to see the addition of new even more dangerous looking cybertronians on base. The next two hours of the ceremony were the most difficult with Aiden being sat at two tables behind you and sneaking glares while you noticed every now and again a pair of green optics would be looking in your direction. You actually kept taking your makeup mirror out of your bag to see if you had something on your face because you were utterly confused.

The worst part is Optimus Primal didn't have any of the warm and inviting energy Optimus Prime had. The occasional growls from him along with the jingle of the chain hanging from his chassis that appeared to be attached to an incredibly sharp spear did nothing to make you feel better about his presence. You were trying not to stare but it looked like he had no interest in socializing with the other maximals, autobots, or humans. He just stood off in the corner analyzing everyone, especially you.

You'd be a liar to say that it wasn't giving you the feeling that you were intruding upon his territory. As if he was some kind of predator in a jungle and everyone else was his unsuspecting prey. You looked around the room to see if anyone else felt weird and immediately sighed when you realized it was only you. He didn't even look like he wanted to be here and it made you think that Optimus Prime had asked him to show up.

You were tired and just wanted to go home at this point so you told your superior that you were feeling ill and wanted to leave early. The indoor route to the main facility housing was closed off for cleaning and you didn't want to wait so you bit the bullet and decided it was best to take the outside route.

You were just thankful you managed to stash a hoodie in your purse before you left your room just in case. It didn't take long for you to begin to hear someone else's footsteps behind you and you became nervous. You stopped in your tracks and turned around to see Aiden's signature unbothered blank expression.

It was hard to ignore the feeling of your stomach sinking when you understood the amount of danger that you were in.

"Need help?" You asked, trying to sound like he didn't scare you.

He dropped his serious look before letting out a laugh.

"No…. Just thought you'd want someone to walk you to your room. Gotta be careful, there's a shit ton of wild animals out here…"

"Aiden, I can handle myself. Just go back to the stupid ceremony."  You turned on your heel and began walking just to hear the sound of his footsteps behind you once again. You slowly reached into your bag and grabbed the box cutter that Ellie had given to you earlier and you squeezed it in your hand. You weren't a fighter but you damn sure weren't a victim either.

He put his hand firmly down onto your shoulder and with an instant you turned around and let the box cutter connect with his face. The long slash of red seemed to grow while he winced in pain and grabbed his face with both of his hands. You were going to turn and run before a spear lodged itself directly within the middle of his head. The sharp weapon came from behind him and now sat planted and looking like a divider between both sides of his face.

The popping and gurgling sound he made while thick lines of blood began to pour from his eyes, nose, mouth, and ears made you want to drop to your knees. But before you could do that the spear retracted following the long chain it was attached to. With that as it was the only thing holding Aiden's head together, both halves of his face slid apart and his body hit the floor. His entire head had been split into two and you could how clean the cut was right down the middle. There was a loud animalistic roar within the background signaling a victory.

You couldn't even bring yourself to look at the scene before you. Nor did you bother to look up when heavy cybertronian footsteps approached you.

"I guess he did need help."

The voice sounded much closer to your own height than usual and you looked up and had to catch your breath. Mass displacement... Of course they gave him a module for it. His bright green optics were now only just two feet above your head rather than just ten.

"Do you want me to say thank you or something?" Your voice had a hint of annoyance and fear with it. If anything all you wanted to do was leave.

"Actually, I should be surrendering my gratitude to you instead… I was disinterested in the ceremony and I needed something to hunt."

The glint of the blood-stained spearhead caught your attention and you winced. This new Optimus was nothing like the one you've been accustomed to. Your eyes trailed from the spear to the mech's chassis which was certainly much bulkier than the other cybertronians. His broad shoulder plating with the synthetic fur draped over him made him look more like a warrior than a soldier. With him in mass displacement you could see far more details on his frame than before. While further analyzing him you felt a familiar tingle between your legs.

You were paused from your thoughts when you noticed the mech sniffing the air around him. You looked around with confusion trying to smell what he did but to no avail. After he stopped sniffing the air a long drawn out animalistic growl fell from behind his face guard.

"You're in heat."

"I'm in what-"

The motion of you being yanked down by your hair onto the gravel face down was too fast for you to even yelp. You immediately turned your head to the side so you could breathe but that didn't help with the weight of a mass displaced cybertronian pressed against you.

"What the fuck are you doing?!"

He seemed not to like the language you used against him because he pressed your face down even harder.

"I can smell your arousal. You're in heat and you wish to breed."

You were confused until it hit you, you were definitely ovulating this week and you'd be lying if you didn't say that you felt something while looking over his frame.

"Hey! Listen big guy you're confu-" You felt the lower half of your dress being torn off and you could feel the chilly wind against your thighs. The straps of your underwear snapped like a thin string under the pressure of his digits.

"You allowed me to terminate the undeserving male so that we may engage."

"YOU killed him for no reas-"

Your brain went fuzzy as you felt the forceful lick of his glossa between your folds. The slickness of his saliva felt like warm thick honey when it came into contact with your core. You couldn't believe how good it felt just to have his cybertronian version of a tongue slowly lap at your cunt. You could tell he was trying to focus most of the pressure around the small bundle of nerves above your entrance. You can only imagine that female cybertronians must have the same anatomy that you did for him to know what to do.

He let out an encouraging growl when you arched your rear end up further into his faceplate to give him more access. This was all moving so fast for you that you no longer cared that your face was being pressed hard on its side into the gravel nor about Aiden's semi-decapitated corpse only a few feet away.

All that mattered to you at the moment was the onslaught of deliberately slow licks you were receiving at your core. You ended up letting a whine escape your lips when you felt his thick glossa slide inside you. His glossa twisted and curled within your tight walls so much you were absolutely sure you were close. After he starts thrusting his glossa into you, your own body catches you by surprise and you feel yourself clenching roughly around him.

He made you ride out your own  orgasm with his glossa still in your hole. Even after your little climax had subsided he was still devouring you from behind and pulling moans and whimpers from your lips in the process. He clearly had no intentions on stopping any time soon as he just continued to glossa fuck you into an orgasm over and over at least three more times. You could feel the hot vents of his mouth getting heavier the more he lapped at you.

Every time you came he didn't even bother to move his mouth which gave you the impression that he was just swallowing your slickness down his intake like he was starving. What really set it off was the way the base of his faceplate was rubbing against your clit in a way that made you scream. When his mouth finally parted from between your legs it felt like he had been down there for ages.

Your legs already wobbled and felt like jelly when the mech hadn't even 'bred' you yet. The cold air against your overly sensitive cunt was making you buck your hips in hopes that the warmth of his pelvis against yours would happen soon. You heard a loud click behind you along with a thud which was his interface panel being taken off and thrown to the grown beside you.

You moaned out loudly when you felt the warm and thick head of his spike nudge between your folds. He then let out a threatening hiss as he felt his tip split you wide open. The pain of your walls stretching to accommodate him was a serious one but your cunt was so overstimulated and wet from him swallowing you down that the pain was already fading as fast as it came. 

It didn't take long for him to hilt himself totally inside you and it was obvious he was holding himself back from completely destroying you. The grip he had on your hair and how hard he was tugging it, told you that you were going to have a headache for the next couple of days.

"Fuck."

Him saying a curse within human language under his heavy vents took you by surprise. You yelped out when you felt his first brutal thrust that seemed to make your legs sway like thin trees on your knees. Then the second thrust came, along with the third, fourth, fifth, and so on. He did not start easy on you but then again you didn't expect him to.

The sound of his metallic pelvis slapping against your flesh ass made you wince as you could already feel the stinging sensation of bruises forming. His thick member felt like it aimed to do nothing but conquer your spasming walls with the way it was shaped. His spike felt like it was shaped in a way that it was curved upward and towards his tip, it had a pronounced swell that made a delicious popping noise every time he pulled it back out.

On top of his groans, growls, and hisses of pleasure he whispered something to you in cybertronian that you didn't understand so you just ignored it. There was nothing you could do but hold your position in front of him and just take whatever he was giving to you. You weren't even going to complain about it because you were just so drunk on the pleasure that there was no hostility towards him for using you like this.

"Please….please I'm so close." Once again he brought you back to the point that you were whining like a bitch in heat just begging for him to keep fucking you. His servo's grip around your hair tightened and your breaths got hitched into your throat while he began slamming into you. Your eyes rolled back and choked pleas and curses fell from your lips.

The feeling of his thick sex organ just unrelentlessly rutting into you from behind and your hair being pulled hard was just enough to make you tear up. Your next orgasm came so quick while you felt him halt and seize up behind you and he let out a deafening roar. Thick spurts of his hot transfluid painted the insides of your walls and it only made you come harder.

He stayed buried in you while his overload ran its course and allowed you to milk every drop of transfluid he had in his system to give you. Your body shivered when you could feel his climax spill out and leak down your thighs. He waited until he finished shooting his entire load to pull out of you and let your body slump onto the cold gravel. Your breathing was just as heavy as his venting and you both felt physically overexerted.

You tried to stand up before collapsing back down after your own legs gave out. You were going to yell at him before you looked in the distance and saw that the ceremony was over and everyone was leaving.

"Primal how the fuck am I going to explain this?" You gestured to your lower half.

"Actually, how the fuck are you going to explain that." He remarked before pointing a digit at Aiden's corpse. And once again you were left to clean up someone else's mess.

[saibasuki]

Skin to Steel

Description: Just a “short” little drabble about Optimus accidentally triggering his more… organic characteristics. 

Contents: Female Reader, Size Kink, Mentions of Masturbation, Heat/Rut Dynamics (kinda), No Prep (lol), Use of “Little One”, Breeding Kink (kinda)

Word Count: 3327

Author’s Note: Uhhhhh yeah, I don’t know the exact details of the mechanics of this story… The main idea is that he gets affected by an ancient Cybertronian artifact and it makes him go all primal. Also please pretend that he can fit inside a garage (and you). I hope you enjoy my silly little thoughts, even though my writing skills are a bit rusty, and check out @/raspberrighost’s artworks for the size scaling I had in mind (they’re beautiful). 

“It has been… torturous. I feel akin to a beast in heat. I am not used to these feelings of carnal desire; these unending lecherous fantasies that plague my processor.”

“Whatever you think you need to get through this, I’ll provide it. I told you I would always be on your side, Optimus. And I didn’t just mean in the war.”

Something’s going on with Optimus. 

Ironhide and Ratchet wouldn’t tell you what it was - only that he was a little under the weather, that he needed some time to be fixed up, and that you needed to leave him alone. They instructed you to leave him alone in the garage where he’s been cooped up, and that no matter what: never go inside.

The two inexplicably left together the next day, on the hunt for something to “reverse the effects before they got worse”. Whatever that meant. It certainly didn’t appease your worries in the slightest.

You tried being patient, you tried to follow instructions. You tried to ignore the deep grunts and low rumbles and the unending hum of machinery that you could hear even inside the house. 

But by the seventh day, you were fed up and out of your mind with concern.

You lingered outside the locked garage, trying to beg your way inside.

“I’m not opening the door.” He growls out, voice strained. “Leave.” 

“Optimus…” You start. He can visualize your pout, and it makes him groan. “I haven’t seen you in over a week, I’m worried.” 

His voice is tense as he grunts out your name. After a long silence, he continues with a little more gentleness. His demeanour softens as he lets out a sigh. "I know you missed me, little one, but I'm fine. Please, I need you to leave."

"I don't believe that. Just once, I want to see you once." You mumble sweetly, he can hear the upset in your tone, and it makes him weak. 

There's another moment of silence as he speaks up again. 

"I don't want you to see me like this." He seems to hesitate before saying, "Just go. Please." You can hear his breaths come out in deep sighs, his mechanics whirring on overdrive, and… something else? Something… slick in the background. 

“Optimus?” You mutter again. “C’mon, don’t do this. Just let me in.”

"Don’t. Don't say my name like that." A growl. A few pants. There's a hint of desperation and pleading in his words this time. "I’m fine. Just listen to me. I need you to leave. Now." 

You really don’t like how constrained he sounds. What was going on?

"You don't sound okay. Please," You whisper, voice soft and pleading, "let me in.”

“I- for Primus’s sake.” He huffs out. 

The clanking of metal. The churn of his gears. Footsteps. The lock clicking.

Your heart begins to race as you realize you were finally going to get to see him again. 

The metal divider folds up, and his hulking frame looms over you.

You take a quick assessment. 

He’s a little more bulky than you remember, his figure wracked with heaving breaths, the metal of his plates glinting. Glinting? With what? Autobots don’t sweat. They also usually don’t have a…

You gulp, eyes trained on the area between his tibulen, where a leaking shaft now resided.

A growl rumbles in his throat before he wraps his digits around your waist, trying his best to be gentle despite his condition. Your figure was so different than his own, the soft curves of your body completely opposite to his hard angles. The feeling of your delicate frame in his hand makes another wave of arousal wash over him. He lifts you up close to his face as he closes the garage door again, and you’re flooded in darkness as he slumps on the ground. 

There's something strangely... exhilarating about being treated like this by him.

His servo releases its grip on you, flattening out for you to sit on, and you quickly settle in his palm. Your concern for him takes over your attention once more. You reach up to touch the cold, smooth metal of his cheek plate, caressing him gently with your thumbs. 

"What’s going on?" 

A shiver runs down his spine as your touch causes him to let out a low rumble. Your sweet voice and scent surround his senses, and it fills his processor with filthy, inappropriate thoughts of you wrecked underneath him. 

"I told you to stay away..."

"Well, I'm here anyways," You whisper gently, refusing to let his gruff demeanour scare you away. "I want to help." 

Optimus’s next words are laboured as he leans back against the wall, trying his best to control his urges while keeping you cradled in his hand. 

"There’s nothing you can do.”

“Then at least tell me what’s happening. I’m worried.”

“We found a cube… Its origins are from Cybertron, although we don’t know how it managed to land on Earth yet.” Each word reverberates around you, his baritone deep enough to make your very core tremble. “Ratchet hypothesized that it could upgrade us… that it could imbue us with Cybertron’s energy, and help us in the war.”

“But..?”

“But… all it did was change my form… change me.”

You dare to look down, taking in the large mechanical rod, leaking lubricant with every pulse. 

“Is that why…?”

“Yes.” He growls out. “It has been… torturous. I feel akin to a beast in heat. I am not used to these feelings of carnal desire; these unending lecherous fantasies that plague my processor.”

An unusual heat simmers in his fuel lines, his cables, his entire frame. His vents are working overtime trying to cool him down while he imagines the things he could do to you, the ways he could take you. 

“It is not ideal for you to remain here much longer. I fear my self-control is withering.”

“I don’t want to leave you alone, Optimus. I don’t want you to suffer.” You earnestly protest, flashing him the most pleading expression that you could muster up as you sat up on your knees, eyes wide and doey.

“I am suffering more now than I have all week. You are tempting me to be uncouth.” The disdain he tries to imply is lost between the obvious need that rolls off his glossa. 

His optics scan over you, taking in the way you’re sitting so prettily in his servo, so damn small. His brain module is already imagining the size difference in intimate moments, how he could so easily overpower you, have you at his mercy. 

But, no. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t do that to you. 

With all the strength he can muster, he lowers his hand, placing you back onto the ground.

“Leave, little one.”

You’re not so easily deterred. 

With a bit of effort, you manage to climb up onto one of his tibulen, seating yourself on the smooth metal plate. 

Optimus makes no move to stop you, only watching with rough breaths, his vocalizer filling the space with static. 

His servos move with a processor of their own once you settle, shaking from the effort of holding back as they come to rest on your thighs. As large and powerful as they have the capability of being, they are surprisingly gentle as they knead your softness, his thumb even going so far as to push up the hem of your shirt. 

“You humans are so stubborn…” He scolds, but his shaky tone betrays him once again.

He can feel the warmth of your skin against his sensors, his rod twitching again as another wave of lust short-circuits him. 

His sensibilities are fading alarmingly fast, his hands fully slipping under your shirt to cup your waist – skin to steel. The feeling of your body under his touch is making his systems go haywire, and Primus, he needs more. 

His optics darken, focusing on you, and he easily shifts you to properly straddle his thigh. 

He completely dwarfs you, surrounds you, bod wracked with heaves as his vents try to counteract the pure heat radiating from his spark. 

“Whatever you think you need to get through this, I’ll provide it. I told you I would always be on your side, Optimus. And I didn’t just mean in the war.” Your voice is soft as you offer yourself up to him, trying your best to sound just the right amount of sweet and alluring.

As generous as you’re being, it’s not without any selfishness of your own. 

You had long harboured feelings for the Autobot. His compassion, his wisdom, his strength, his size – all of it had made your knees buckle and your core burn hot since the first encounter. Many nights you had stayed up late, hand sliding beneath your soaking panties as you imagined him above you; imagined his voice rumbling through your frame as he folded you in half, pleasing you. Ruining you. 

It was a fantasy you had accepted would never come to be. Optimus was too busy with the war, too sensible to get involved with a human, and he didn’t have the right parts, anyway. Except, now he did.

And Primus, was it the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. 

Sturdy and metallic, shiny and sleek. And so, so thick. It looked like it was made to stretch you out, to nudge at your cervix and press against every spot imaginable in your tiny little cunt. You could already imagine him struggling to slide it in, although with the amount of fluid leaking from the slit, it might not even be a struggle at all. 

“Are you truly not intimidated by the implication of your proposition?” His deep voice lumbers, his grip on your hips tightening every so slightly, as if a warning.

He was so much bigger – stronger than you in every way imaginable – but instead of being afraid, you just shook your head, hands boldly reaching for the hem of your shirt and tugging it off. You know he would never hurt you, even with the heat in his spark and the lust in his cables, you trusted him completely. 

His optics went wide at your sudden toplessness, his processor freezing at the sight of your soft chest, now exposed. There’s a burning sensation in his chassis, his spark flaring in his chest as his reservations completely deplete.

His shaft begins to ache in a way he’s never experienced before, the sensors that reside there so desperate for friction that his hips involuntarily rut up into the air, shifting his thigh under you. You squeak at the sudden movement, your own thighs clamping around him to stabilize yourself, and you moan as your core slides against his plate.

He groans, his modulator letting out a thundering baritone sound as he lifts you by your hips, setting you down on the garage floor and following your form. He climbs over you, completely covering your body with his, hovering over you on his knee guards. 

“You are so…” His vernacular escapes him, the image of you under him – cheeks darkened, eyes blown, and tits out – is the only thing in his helm. 

He doesn’t know if he wants to call you foolish or ravishing. 

“I’d do anything for you, Optimus.” You declared, the adrenaline and desire pumping through your veins giving you an audacity that you didn’t know you possessed. “You should know that.”

“What is it that is making you say such things? Loyalty?” He questions in a grumble, his servos pinching at your bottoms, wondering if he should just rip them off. But despite how unnaturally turned on he is at the moment, he won’t take advantage of your strange, unwavering devotion to him. 

“I just… want you. And I know you want me too, even if it’s just until this passes. You can use me.”

His spark flares in his chest so hard he fears it might burn out at your audacious words.

“Primus.” He growls, actually growls, like some type of heat-crazed animal. 

He doesn’t need any more encouragement, his digits pulling at your pants, the flimsy fabric giving way easily to his strength until your underwear is revealed to him. His optics darken at the noticeable wet patch in the cotton, his processor blanks, and his rod drips out even more lubricant. 

The tip of his finger prods at your covered folds, dragging over your puffy clit and nudging at your twitching entrance as he watches with rapt attention. 

You squirm from the sensation, way more worked up than you wanted to let out, and you bite your lip to stifle a whimper as your hips chase his touch. 

“Stay still.” Optimus commands, his other servo moving to hold you in place, large enough to cup both your waist and thigh. 

His finger slips underneath your underwear, and you let out the most pornographic moan of your life when he actually presses against your sensitive bud, circling and rubbing. 

“Op–Optimus…” You mewled out, knees bending and shifting as you tried to cope with the blissful sensations he was blessing you with. 

His finger hooks around the seat of your panties, tugging them down your legs and off your ankles until you’re completely bare under him, trembling and needy. 

"I have never felt desire this powerful until I met you." He states, his voice rough with need as his optics scan you. “Do not think it is just your body I am wanting.”

He's still being gentle, hyper-aware of the power he holds over you, the potential to accidentally hurt you. But the lust coursing through him is making it harder and harder to hold back.

“Tell me… how is it that humans copulate?” He questions in a low rasp. He wants to do this right, even if, for some reason, his instincts are telling him to just force his shaft inside your tiny body and mount you until you’re bred. 

“I– there isn’t exactly a specific way… Just do what you want.” 

“What I want? What I want is to have you wrapped around my rod as I claim your body as mine.” He confesses, still hovering over you, pushing your knees up to your chest and watching your fluttering hole drool with anticipation. 

You gulp. It’s sort of hitting you now just how large he actually is, wondering if you’ve bitten off more than you can chew – more than you can manage to take.

Both of his servos hook underneath your knees, holding your thighs down, keeping you folded in half for him. 

Holy shit. This is actually happening.

You let out a pathetic whimper when his cock slides across your puffy little cunt, the metal shaft nestled between your folds and resting on your twitching clit. 

You’re so tiny and delicate beneath him, and the primal urges he’s been fighting all week ultimately winning the battle against his decorum. His systems burn hot at the thought of it – fucking into that tight little hole of yours until he's spilling deep inside of you, leaving his mark where no one else will ever know again. 

His hips rock forward, slit leaking lubricant that gets spread all over your pretty pussy, his voicebox letting out static and groans that reverberate in the garage. 

His helm tips back with a low, ragged moan. His optics temporarily go offline, his entire body shuddering with relief and ecstasy as he finally feels the friction he’s been needing, sensors overloading his capacities. 

“Oh my God– Optimus…” You weakly call out, feeling his rod cant against you, your insides clenching around nothing. 

Your breath catches when you feel the head of his shaft catch on your entrance, almost slipping inside.

“W-wait– what about prep?”

“Prep?” He repeats in a grumble, his hips continuing to move.

Your lips part to explain the concept of foreplay to him, but it’s too late. A squeal escapes you as he pushes into your velvety walls, your cunt clenching around the unexpected intrusion. It’s only the tip, but Primus you’re already being so stretched.

“Optimus–” You squeak out, all words escaping your diction as you try to breathe through the stinging. “W-wait,”

The Autobot immediately stills, optics scanning your face and recognizing discomfort. He can feel the way your body tenses beneath him, your tightness clamping down on his rod. 

“Sorry, little one.” He apologizes, voice rough but still soft-spoken. One of his servos moves, heading between your thighs so that the pad of his thumb digit can rub against your twitching clit – he thinks he saw something on the internet once that it would help. His other fingers curl around your backside, providing you with stability as he lifts your hips up just slightly.

Immediately, you mewl, walls fluttering again as your hips wriggle from the pleasure. Optimus deliberately leaks more lubrication directly into your hole, trying to make the glide easier. 

“May I try again, now?” He asks for permission, still gently toying with your twitching bud.

“Mm… Mhm…” You nodded, now only capable of making whiny noises. You’re already so wrecked, and he hasn’t even truly begun.

He pulls back slightly, then lets out a low groan as he pushes forward again, this time sinking deeper into your silky depths. He repeats the motion, staying patient and clement until he’s fully sheathed inside, his crotch pressed to yours. 

You’re still pulsing around him, a mixture of your slick and his fluid dripping around his shaft and down your ass.

God, you’re so full. It’s incomprehensible. You can feel him in your lungs, nestled so deep inside that there’s no part of your pussy his cock isn’t pressed against. It’s hard to breathe, to think, to do anything but savour the way he’s found home and heaven in your cunt.

You’re so tight, so warm, and so perfect around him. It’s overwhelming in the best way possible. He continues to let your body adjust to him, trying to keep his focus on soothing you with his thumb instead of ravaging you.

Once you relax a bit, you whisper out a quiet “okay”, knowing that his audials would pick up on your meek assent without an issue. 

He gives a slow roll of his hips just to feel how perfectly you take every inch of him; groaning softly when those sweet walls clench down on his shaft like they never want to let go again.

“You feel so good around me, little one.” His voicebox crackles out, and it takes every single ounce of power he has to not slam himself into your tiny frame. 

He’s desperate to have more of you, to just keep you under him, to just keep you close as he fucks you with the restraint of a saint. 

He can feel the way your body just trembles against him, the way you tighten around him as he moves, his shaft dragging against your walls every time he pulls out just to slide back in. 

His processors feel like they’re fraying. He can barely think straight, not when he's buried inside of you, allowing that burning ecstasy to overtake his systems. The only thing he can feel is the heat of your body, the hot pressure of your walls around him. 

His thrusts start to get slightly faster; lewd, wet sounds ringing out as he makes your pussy gush. He wants to keep this good for you, but there’s an indescribable, all-consuming need deep in his core that tells him to keep going until he properly claims you. 

You’re letting out babbled moans and shaky whines, caught off guard with the new pace, but you’re too weak to do anything but take what he gives you. You wouldn’t protest anyway. Not when it feels this good. Not when you’re the one who offered yourself up to him.

You’re so undeniably ruined, stuffed to the brim, all twitches and whimpers as he replaces any thoughts in your head with fuzz. 

He can’t wait to have you full of his completion, his seed. He can’t wait to see if it’ll take. He can’t wait to keep you all to himself. 

He hopes he can retain this form forever, so there’s not another day he has to go without experiencing the primal bliss of your body underneath his. 

i hope you guys enjoyed!! this was just meant to be a drabble but i got wayyyy too into it lol.

comments + reblogs are appreciated !! <3

tags: @unknownoperator

[optimusxwbu]

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.

You're not going to win this one.

"Fine! I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Sorry, sorry, sorry. Please!"

"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?"

[earthsparked]

You’ve never been this sick before. You’ve had tonsillitis as a kid, typical flus and colds, a memorable bout or three with bronchitis and, of fucking course, came down with covid a couple times. None of those illnesses were like this. Something has gotten inside your head.

You make a quiet noise of complaint as what feels like cold metal surrounds you, painful against your hot skin, even through the blanket wrapped around you. You feel so cold, but you’re sweaty and dizzy. The world isn’t right. Everything’s too big and bright and moving wrong. Your head’s stuffed full of cotton and you’re not thinking right. And there’s a voice you don’t know, rich and deep, with a strange modulation to it you can’t place.

Sorry, little one, but your internal temperature is creeping past the danger zone for your species with no signs of stopping. Much higher and you’re risking processor damage. Don’t be afraid, we’re going to help you.

A machine sort of noise and rush of air, with a very quiet addition you don’t quite catch. I hope.

You are too sick to do much of anything except feel horribly confused, weak, and cold. You flinch away from the light, its brightness like ice picks into your head. There’s another voice snapping something about photosensitivity, dim the slagging lights. The brightness fades, but even in the dim twilight you don’t really want to open your eyes. Everything hurts. You just want to go home.

There’s a hushed argument, and then something very large moves over you. In your delirium it registers as if you’re swimming deep underwater, and a pod of whales has come to say hello.

‘S illegal. Getting me in trouble…caught. You’re mumbling to the whales. You’re not ever supposed to approach wildlife. Even if you always dreamed of meeting them.

That rumbling voice sounds so tired, so sad, that you feel bad for it.

Are they conscious? Are they trying to communicate with us?

A pause. The other voice speaks. There’s a sense of something big hovering directly over you. You can feel it somehow, even with your eyes closed, like feeling a current in the ocean.

No, I don’t think so. Their brain activity is alarming compared to baseline. But who in the Pit knows? Organic processors are a mess to begin with, let alone one infected with something this species has never encountered before.

A big blue whale-song, mournful. We never should have come here. What have we done, Ratchet?

The other, more gruff voice. Also sounding tired. We couldn’t have known that the debris brought a contagion planetside until it happened. Don’t panic just yet, Prime. So far, they’re the only one directly exposed. We got them in quarantine as soon as Nurse Darby realized something was wrong beyond the usual illnesses. It was just bad luck they happened to come across the contamination before we could clean it all up. There’s no reason to believe it can jump from human to human yet.

There’s a pause, and the first voice is even quieter.

Will they live?

There’s more motion. Beeping noises. You must be in a hospital. Yes, you remember that much. Going into the ER late one night after the Tylenol wouldn’t touch your fever, which had come on suddenly.

I can’t make promises, you know that. I don’t know much about this contagion. I didn’t even know it could behave this way in organics when it’s harmless to us.

He sounds frustrated.

But I was fine, the groggy thought drifts up from the depths of your mind. Everything is slow and dark and cold, a thousand fathoms deep.

I was fine, I went out doing my volunteer work. And then I got sick.

You don’t remember meeting your doctors. There might have been an ambulance…you think? Flashing lights, sirens. A woman’s worried voice, low, as she adjusted the IV in your arm. It’s what is making you feel so cold, you decide, and with all your frail strength begin trying to grab and wrench it out.

An immediate shuffle around you, and the grumpy whale reaches out and stops you. You push weakly at its rubbery flipper. It’s a whale, a humpback whale you think. You have about as much chance of moving it as you do lifting an ambulance.

Eh-eh-eh! None of that, now. You pull that out and neither of us will enjoy me trying to put it back in. Optimus, hand me the - yes, thank you.

You whimper softly and cry out as you find you can’t move. There’s things touching you - seaweed, wires, tangling you. Everything’s cold.

There. Sorry, human, but we can’t have you hurting yourself. …why am I even talking to them, they’re not going to remember any of this.

You huff and decide very hard to remember this just because you were told you wouldn’t. You forget a minute later what it was you were trying to remember, and start thrashing around against the seaweed. The beeping gets louder, more painful.

Can’t ever make anything easy, can you?

What are you doing?

I’m going to use the medication June left to sedate them.

But didn’t she say that could -

Yes, but - well, look at them!

Look at who? You wonder, as you fight off the tangling seaweed. You should find the surface. You need to breathe. You’re starting to feel scared. You can’t breathe.

The humpback whale is distressed. Somehow you can feel it, you know it. If they were a mech I could put them in stasis, keep them from suffering like this. This is cruel, Optimus. I - I don’t know.

He sounds defeated, angry. So tired. You reach out past the seaweed to try and pet him, because if the whales are going to insist on hanging out, you might as well earn that huge fine for touching the wildlife. Your sensitive palm makes contact with cold, hard skin, almost like it’s absorbed all the ice in the ocean. There’s a feeling of surprise, and silence, and then something crashes like a wave in the distance. There are big booming sounds. Those waves slamming into rocky, echoing caverns.

Watch them a moment. I’m going to consult with June. Do not let them tear that IV out. Comm me if their breathing gets worse.

The big blue whale is back, filling in the absence of the humpback. It catches your hand in its massive flipper, then brushes your wet hair out of your face. You had always heard whales were impossibly gentle despite their enormous size. You hadn’t quite imagined they could be this dexterous, though.

I’m sorry this happened to you. You did nothing wrong. You and so many other innocents, harmed because of us.

You squeeze his flipper, you think, but things are getting very hazy.

Please live. There is so much more to the universe that you deserve to get to see. I don’t know if you can hear me, but don’t give up.

His voice, even full of pain deep as the bottom of the sea, is comforting. You don’t want him to be so sad. But that’s what whalesong always is, isn’t it?

The humpback comes back. He’s doing something with the IV. You had no idea whales knew how to do that. You didn’t know they could be white and red, either. Don’t tell Ahab.

June says to increase the dosage and keep giving fluids. The tests she’s running show this formulation should drive out the infection, but…

But?

…but not without…impacts.

What kind of impacts? …Ratchet?

We can’t be sure. This is all highly experimental, Prime, we’re working off of practically nothing. June thinks it’s doing something to their central nervous system. We don’t know what, yet. It’s going to be a race to see what gives in first: the infection, or their vital systems.

A rumble, contemplative. At least they seem to have calmed. Their heart rate is down to almost normal.

For now. A pause. If they recover, we can’t keep this one. Fowler can find somewhere to stash them, I’m sure.

Silence.

Oh, for - Optimus! We’re not running a xeno-zoo!

Let us wait and see if that is even a conversation we will need to have, old friend.

Disgruntled feelings like poprocks in your mind.

…fine. Oh.

Oh?

Their fever has come down two-tenths of a point. That’s a start in the right direction. Let’s get that oxygen mask on and see if it helps. Of all the gasses to breathe, they had to pick one of the most flammable. Who even designed this fragging species? I want a word with them.

The whales are singing, and you decide it’s not so scary down here, after all. It reminds you of that song. You wheeze out a few words.

Beyond th’ sea, somewhere…waiting…

Hush. Rest, now. Big blue, biggest animal ever on earth. And for some reason, it cares about you.

You fall asleep under a blanket of seaweed, and eventually the ocean doesn’t feel so cold. You’re part of a pod, swimming slowly compared to them, but swimming all the same. And at least you’re not alone down in the dark. Maybe when you wake, you’ll get to see them breach the surface, leaping into the warmth of the sun. Maybe you’ll get to leap with them.

[lunatf-ao3]

could we maybe get the rest if the fetish headcanons for the bots?? Particularly Knock Out and Breakdown?? I defiantly don't have a bias for them or anything 👀

HEADCANONS² ❣︎

❥︎ FETISHES ! ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖʳᵉᶠᵉʳᵉⁿᶜᵉˢ

[TFP] Knockout, Breakdown, Megatron, Optimus Prime, Ratchet, Smokescreen, Wheeljack, Soundwave /Human!Reader

[⚠︎]: nsfw, various fetishes, it may be strange

Part 1

What else could I make headcanons about?

-

- SOUNDWAVE :

Sensory Deprivation

Recording Kink

Look at this man and tell me he doesn't like to deprive you of your senses. His servos are careful as he wraps you tightly in a rope, putting your arms behind you, covering your eyes with a cloth, shutting you up with a gag and plugging your ears with earplugs. You were there, so vulnerable to him, wet and at his total mercy. It was an image as valuable as the highest quality energon, and he was definitely going to keep it in his processor.

He liked the vulnerability, generating that delicious anticipation in you about what he would do and the fact that you could do nothing against him. Her flat servos would run up and down your body with provocative rubs, touching the sensitive parts you liked until they inserted themselves into your little hole. Of course he wasn't going to miss saving that delicious image forever on his processor, so he makes sure to record each and every long lovemaking session.

His favorite position is any position where you are totally exposed for him, being able to record your face and your delicate parts receiving him was something he was not going to miss. His shaft is kind of weird, long and movable to his liking, which he takes advantage of to touch all the sensitive parts inside you. You are totally at his mercy, and you couldn't do much against it but enjoy it.

His rhythm is fast, controlled and constant, his movements are not confused. If you have strong, from time to time, through the thick mask, you can hear a small , almost non-existent moan of pleasure.

If you are lucky.

- WHEELJACK :

Semi-exhibitionism

Exposure Kink

Wheeljack definitely likes risky things, and what's more risky than a little exhibition? The thrill of being caught at any moment increases his excitement by 120%. He'll do it anywhere if possible, but he's a little more inclined to open places, like a big field or a deserted park. But of course it's not always, it can go from an abandoned alley to the roof of a house at night.

It makes it even funnier that it never uses its holoform, so if any innocent person comes across you in the middle of a walk in the woods, they will only see a two-meter robot fucking a person against a tree. Contrary to what you would think, he likes to be loud, quiet enough to not be so obvious, but he won't shut you up.

It's not that he's looking to expose you to the whole world, of course not. But risk is a delicious pleasure, doing it in nature, in unusual places, makes it special for him. His servos run over your cold body delicately, warming his servos against your belly as his shaft penetrates you. The city lights faintly envelop you, sometimes it scares you, but you know you are safe with him. Still, you cling to him with all your might, after all they were who knows how many feet above a thick old tree he decided to target.

If you wish, Wheeljack will happily prepare the ship when you want a quieter, more intimate encounter, he doesn't bother with your preferences at all. He's not an idiot, he won't force you to go to open places.

- RATCHET :

Praise Kink

Submission

Well, you and I both know that Ratchet is just a bitter old war-hardened doctor. Every day after dealing with the team and the kids, he definitely needs a couple of compliments to lift his spirits. Flatter his armor, flatter his valve, flatter his beak! With that you'll soon have him hard and ready for you. Of course, he also loves to adore you, your little body so soft and accessible to him, so deliciously tight. You two will be on a cloud of adoration throughout the whole activity, how cheesy.

Ratchet has enough of the day-to-day on base, sometimes he's the one who gets stressed out over little things himself, so he's moderately willing to tame his partner if necessary. He really likes submission, because oh, you look so pretty under him, so obedient, so calm. His servos run over your body with surgical precision, grazing your nipples all the way to your clitoris.

Your submission means his dominance, and dominance means he is in control, that pleases him. If you're not willing to be tamed, chances are you will be the one dominating. Do all the work and let him relax in bed, he is also someone rarely willing to obey you.

- SMOKESCREEN :

Roleplay

Neophilia

Smokescreen is young and energetic, he loves to try new things all the time. He's quite interested in sexual play and exploration, and why not try it with you? He lives for experiences and for you.

Outdoors? Sure, why not, even if he might not like it later because of the cold and discomfort; BDSM? Of course it is an option; Toys? Of course it is; Anal? Impossible not to; Threesome? I might consider it if you agree. Every night of pleasure is a new position he looked up on the internet, he even has a list to cross them off. Sometimes he is even too risky, sneaking into Optimus Prime's room to do it on his floor, since he doesn't dare use his berth.

He especially likes to roleplay, there are so many scenarios, so many ideas. Human or cybertronian, he wants to play with each of them. He is a high command soldier while you are just a rookie, of course he is. You are his college professor and he is your student, he's more than willing. After having the opportunity to be a Prime, he plays with that most of the time. He doesn't regret his desition, but come on, really who is going to get over that so fast?

He has no favorite position, they are all exquisite! He really enjoys you in any way possible. He has average stamina, but have several rounds regardless, you end up full of transfluid and exhausted by the end of the night.

- MEGATRON :

Bite Kink

Megatron is a crazy tyrant, with quite a few mental problems, to be honest. He is terribly possessive of you, you are so weak and helpless, little girl, vulnerable against any Con on the ship. He has lost too many things in the war, he is not going to lose you now for any stupid mistake, he has to protect you, everyone must know, you are his, in every aspect, from body and soul. Therefore, he loves to mark you, let everyone see that hideous mark on your neck, it's a pleasure for him!

Sex with Megatron is always going to end in blood, even if he tries to be gentle with you. His claws are too sharp, every part of his body is a danger to you. But it's not such a big deal, as he says, they are marks that you belong to me, and he belongs to you. Likewise, he will always heal you as if you were in intensive care. He is a brute, but when he has time to do something with you, he makes sure to clean his body with dedication, neither you nor he wants any wound to end in mortal infection, you are so fragile!

He loves above all things to bite you, to bite you on your neck, on your arms, on your sides, on your hips, on your thighs, even on your ass. Seeing the love marks, the signature that you are his, turns him on too much; it's enough to make him hard in seconds, enough to want to stick himself in that little hole of yours.

His favorite position is when you're underneath him, seeing every part of your little being is something he very rarely misses. He has total power over you, sometimes you can ride him, but he will absolutely control your every move. His servos dig into your hips as he makes you ride up and down on his thick shaft, watching your pussy stretch to receive him.

After each little lovemaking session, he disinfects and treats the bites he leaves all over your body. He has shark teeth, it's painful and a little dangerous, but he has enough control not to rip off a shoulder in the process. He doesn't like to cover the most visible ones, if possible, he doesn't do it.

But it is always Knockout's decision, much to his chagrin.

- OPTIMUS PRIME :

Discipline Kink

Cum Kink

Optimus imposes discipline and obedience by himself, but he likes to impose it on you much more. Treat him badly, disobey him, misbehave, it's okay, he will be happy to discipline you later in the evening. One little unnecessary fit of rage from you and his spike will already be pressing his panels to let it out. He's a gentle dominant, he's not looking to have power over you, he is just looking to correct, (in his words). Because, well, it's unacceptable behavior and he cannot let it go, but you are not one of his soldiers either, so.... Use another method.

As long as it's "disciplinary," he will do it. He especially loves it when you are physical with him, hit him, slap him, kick him, even if you try to rip off some of his parts he won't suffer much damage. In the face of that, his discipline is also physical, mainly whipping you with his servos in any sensitive area, like your thighs, butt or your sex, saying something like "your violent behavior needs to be corrected."

Other times he strips you naked and restrains you with straps and tapes in a humiliating or exposed position, he will leave you there until "you have thought about what you did" or whenever he feels like it. Other times he forces you to say humiliating things mixed in an apology while you have his spike in your mouth. are you about to cum? oh no, you do not deserve it, so stop touching yourself until it passes.

Filling you with his cum is also something he looks forward to unusually every night. Watching you covered in it is addictive. If he can, he will, which happens almost all the time. He puts vibrators on your clit and removes them when you're on the edge. But he's not so cruel, when he's done with his punishment, he will take you and stick you on his spike. His favorite position is when you have your legs against his shoulders, he will pound you all over and fill you with his transfluid, in, out, in your mouth.

By the end of the night you have to stink of his transfluid no matter what.

- KNOCKOUT :

Medical Play

Mirror Kink

It's no secret that this guy loves to look at himself in the mirror while he fucks you, just look at him, shiny, sexy and absolutely gorgeous, Knockout can't resist himself, he's cocky. Any position, any place, he looks absolutely great! The way his spike goes into you when he's lying down and you ride him, how wonderful. He also likes to look at you, of course, look at that expression of yours as he strokes you deep, how cute, look how you open up so easily to him, he will make you do it if he gets the chance.

Don't think he doesn't use his medical knowledge to torment you, oh no. This crazy guy, to be honest, he can go as far as healing your wounds while playing with you to drugging you with something strange. He knows exactly where to play to do whatever he wants with you.

He is the smart doctor and you are his beautiful patient. He'll examine the places he thinks need to be examined, and of course, he'll have to "cure" them. Painkillers, aphrodisiacs and strange serums will clearly not be lacking, even if some are a surprise to you.

In spite of everything, he is willing for you to experiment with him, touch him, drive him crazy, what a pleasure! He really likes to do it in the infirmary, on the stretcher, on the floor, it's exciting. Everything gets stained with transfluid and your own fluids.

It will depend on which of you two will be dead at the end of the night to know who will sterilize the room again.

- BREAKDOWN :

Overstimulation

Shy Domination

He likes to over stimulate and over stimulate, you two are a mess. It's not a problem for him to use toys, especially vibrators, he uses them on you and himself. His fingers are thick, he uses them to masturbate you and not let you come until you are crying and begging for him to let you come. Then, of course, he loves it even more when you play with him, making him overload until he can't take it anymore.

When his spike is ramming into you, he never stops, his rhythm is steady and relentless, but with no intention of hurting you. He is a gentle fool, too afraid to hurt you, but refuses to always be the dominated one. He can't touch you too roughly, but he can ram you to the point of leaving his mark on you. How corny. He will keep moving even if he or you have overloaded, no matter if his strokes become clumsy and weak.

He's a sweet talker, he will praise you and stroke you while you cry with pleasure under him, begging him to stop. His favorite position is missionary, of course, classic and comfortable. He touches your thighs, he touches your hips, your face, he loves to watch you. Oh, so tight, so beautiful, your belly looks like a ball at the end of the night, full of his transfluid.

He is in charge of the cleaning, he will clean you gently and to the room, which ends up full of fluids when he finally lets you go. It always reeks of your sweet orgasms and his transfluid, and he somehow manages to make any evidence disappear.

[maliciouscottonball]

I've been thinking a whole bunch about yandere Bayverse Optimus Prime, especially in the beginning of Dark of the Moon. This can be platonic or romantic 😌

You get hired by Sector 7 for some reason or other and have the incredible experience of meeting the leader of the Autobots on your first day. He finds you absolutely fascinating. You train under Ratchet to learn about first aid and instead of letting one of the other bots be your training dummy, Optimus himself volunteers to let you practice on him. You carefully work on the practice equipment, not letting even a drop of solder get on his paint job. He ends up being so relaxed while you work that his engine purrs so loudly that you have to shout to Ratchet in order to ask him questions. You end up dropping a wrench on him after getting quite literally rattled around from the purring, not that it causes him any harm, and end up apologizing profusely, much to Optimus' amusement.

"I assure you, little one, I am very capable of handling something that has not even scratched my finish. It's okay." He rumbles warmly.

He ends up seeking you out more often and eventually begins requesting that you be the human to assist him. You don't mind at all, clearly enjoying the stories about Cybertron that he tells you while you work on whatever it is that you're assigned. He seems to have a certain fondness for holding you and once you tell him that you like it, you barely have to walk anywhere on your own. He's always nearby during your shifts and you've stopped having to drive to work and back once he starts driving you. You never ask how he knows where you live.

After a few weeks, your relationship with Optimus devolves into him treating you more like a stress toy than anything else. When he's in a bad mood, he simply scoops you up and transforms into his vehicle mode for another round of giving everyone the silent treatment. You've learned to nap while he keeps you firmly buckled into his driver's seat. He holds you during meetings, either having you sit in one of his servos or on one of his shoulders. Ironhide teases you a bit for getting such special treatment, though it's never too bad. Optimus' bad moods have gotten significantly more mild and he is much less strict than he was prior to being around you. Secretly, there isn't a soldier on base, Cybertronian or human, that isn't grateful to you.

You don't understand Cybertronian customs, let alone nonverbal communication, so you always brush it off when his headlights brighten when you're in his cab. You don't ask why when he sniffs you when he first sees you or why he begins putting your favorite car air fresheners in his cab. You never realize that his engine is never so loud around anyone else. You brush it off when he ignores other humans in favor of asking if you've eaten and taking you to a drive-through during your lunch break or when he rushes you to Ratchet when you get a bruise or blister. You simply assume that he's being a good leader and that he values your skills. Optimus doesn't mind. He doesn't correct you. To him, it means that you're okay with him keeping you close and caring for you.

[optimusxwbu]

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.

You're not going to win this one.

"Fine! I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Sorry, sorry, sorry. Please!"

"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?"

[saibasuki]

Skin to Steel

Description: Just a “short” little drabble about Optimus accidentally triggering his more… organic characteristics. 

Contents: Female Reader, Size Kink, Mentions of Masturbation, Heat/Rut Dynamics (kinda), No Prep (lol), Use of “Little One”, Breeding Kink (kinda)

Word Count: 3327

Author’s Note: Uhhhhh yeah, I don’t know the exact details of the mechanics of this story… The main idea is that he gets affected by an ancient Cybertronian artifact and it makes him go all primal. Also please pretend that he can fit inside a garage (and you). I hope you enjoy my silly little thoughts, even though my writing skills are a bit rusty, and check out @/raspberrighost’s artworks for the size scaling I had in mind (they’re beautiful). 

“It has been… torturous. I feel akin to a beast in heat. I am not used to these feelings of carnal desire; these unending lecherous fantasies that plague my processor.”

“Whatever you think you need to get through this, I’ll provide it. I told you I would always be on your side, Optimus. And I didn’t just mean in the war.”

Something’s going on with Optimus. 

Ironhide and Ratchet wouldn’t tell you what it was - only that he was a little under the weather, that he needed some time to be fixed up, and that you needed to leave him alone. They instructed you to leave him alone in the garage where he’s been cooped up, and that no matter what: never go inside.

The two inexplicably left together the next day, on the hunt for something to “reverse the effects before they got worse”. Whatever that meant. It certainly didn’t appease your worries in the slightest.

You tried being patient, you tried to follow instructions. You tried to ignore the deep grunts and low rumbles and the unending hum of machinery that you could hear even inside the house. 

But by the seventh day, you were fed up and out of your mind with concern.

You lingered outside the locked garage, trying to beg your way inside.

“I’m not opening the door.” He growls out, voice strained. “Leave.” 

“Optimus…” You start. He can visualize your pout, and it makes him groan. “I haven’t seen you in over a week, I’m worried.” 

His voice is tense as he grunts out your name. After a long silence, he continues with a little more gentleness. His demeanour softens as he lets out a sigh. "I know you missed me, little one, but I'm fine. Please, I need you to leave."

"I don't believe that. Just once, I want to see you once." You mumble sweetly, he can hear the upset in your tone, and it makes him weak. 

There's another moment of silence as he speaks up again. 

"I don't want you to see me like this." He seems to hesitate before saying, "Just go. Please." You can hear his breaths come out in deep sighs, his mechanics whirring on overdrive, and… something else? Something… slick in the background. 

“Optimus?” You mutter again. “C’mon, don’t do this. Just let me in.”

"Don’t. Don't say my name like that." A growl. A few pants. There's a hint of desperation and pleading in his words this time. "I’m fine. Just listen to me. I need you to leave. Now." 

You really don’t like how constrained he sounds. What was going on?

"You don't sound okay. Please," You whisper, voice soft and pleading, "let me in.”

“I- for Primus’s sake.” He huffs out. 

The clanking of metal. The churn of his gears. Footsteps. The lock clicking.

Your heart begins to race as you realize you were finally going to get to see him again. 

The metal divider folds up, and his hulking frame looms over you.

You take a quick assessment. 

He’s a little more bulky than you remember, his figure wracked with heaving breaths, the metal of his plates glinting. Glinting? With what? Autobots don’t sweat. They also usually don’t have a…

You gulp, eyes trained on the area between his tibulen, where a leaking shaft now resided.

A growl rumbles in his throat before he wraps his digits around your waist, trying his best to be gentle despite his condition. Your figure was so different than his own, the soft curves of your body completely opposite to his hard angles. The feeling of your delicate frame in his hand makes another wave of arousal wash over him. He lifts you up close to his face as he closes the garage door again, and you’re flooded in darkness as he slumps on the ground. 

There's something strangely... exhilarating about being treated like this by him.

His servo releases its grip on you, flattening out for you to sit on, and you quickly settle in his palm. Your concern for him takes over your attention once more. You reach up to touch the cold, smooth metal of his cheek plate, caressing him gently with your thumbs. 

"What’s going on?" 

A shiver runs down his spine as your touch causes him to let out a low rumble. Your sweet voice and scent surround his senses, and it fills his processor with filthy, inappropriate thoughts of you wrecked underneath him. 

"I told you to stay away..."

"Well, I'm here anyways," You whisper gently, refusing to let his gruff demeanour scare you away. "I want to help." 

Optimus’s next words are laboured as he leans back against the wall, trying his best to control his urges while keeping you cradled in his hand. 

"There’s nothing you can do.”

“Then at least tell me what’s happening. I’m worried.”

“We found a cube… Its origins are from Cybertron, although we don’t know how it managed to land on Earth yet.” Each word reverberates around you, his baritone deep enough to make your very core tremble. “Ratchet hypothesized that it could upgrade us… that it could imbue us with Cybertron’s energy, and help us in the war.”

“But..?”

“But… all it did was change my form… change me.”

You dare to look down, taking in the large mechanical rod, leaking lubricant with every pulse. 

“Is that why…?”

“Yes.” He growls out. “It has been… torturous. I feel akin to a beast in heat. I am not used to these feelings of carnal desire; these unending lecherous fantasies that plague my processor.”

An unusual heat simmers in his fuel lines, his cables, his entire frame. His vents are working overtime trying to cool him down while he imagines the things he could do to you, the ways he could take you. 

“It is not ideal for you to remain here much longer. I fear my self-control is withering.”

“I don’t want to leave you alone, Optimus. I don’t want you to suffer.” You earnestly protest, flashing him the most pleading expression that you could muster up as you sat up on your knees, eyes wide and doey.

“I am suffering more now than I have all week. You are tempting me to be uncouth.” The disdain he tries to imply is lost between the obvious need that rolls off his glossa. 

His optics scan over you, taking in the way you’re sitting so prettily in his servo, so damn small. His brain module is already imagining the size difference in intimate moments, how he could so easily overpower you, have you at his mercy. 

But, no. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t do that to you. 

With all the strength he can muster, he lowers his hand, placing you back onto the ground.

“Leave, little one.”

You’re not so easily deterred. 

With a bit of effort, you manage to climb up onto one of his tibulen, seating yourself on the smooth metal plate. 

Optimus makes no move to stop you, only watching with rough breaths, his vocalizer filling the space with static. 

His servos move with a processor of their own once you settle, shaking from the effort of holding back as they come to rest on your thighs. As large and powerful as they have the capability of being, they are surprisingly gentle as they knead your softness, his thumb even going so far as to push up the hem of your shirt. 

“You humans are so stubborn…” He scolds, but his shaky tone betrays him once again.

He can feel the warmth of your skin against his sensors, his rod twitching again as another wave of lust short-circuits him. 

His sensibilities are fading alarmingly fast, his hands fully slipping under your shirt to cup your waist – skin to steel. The feeling of your body under his touch is making his systems go haywire, and Primus, he needs more. 

His optics darken, focusing on you, and he easily shifts you to properly straddle his thigh. 

He completely dwarfs you, surrounds you, bod wracked with heaves as his vents try to counteract the pure heat radiating from his spark. 

“Whatever you think you need to get through this, I’ll provide it. I told you I would always be on your side, Optimus. And I didn’t just mean in the war.” Your voice is soft as you offer yourself up to him, trying your best to sound just the right amount of sweet and alluring.

As generous as you’re being, it’s not without any selfishness of your own. 

You had long harboured feelings for the Autobot. His compassion, his wisdom, his strength, his size – all of it had made your knees buckle and your core burn hot since the first encounter. Many nights you had stayed up late, hand sliding beneath your soaking panties as you imagined him above you; imagined his voice rumbling through your frame as he folded you in half, pleasing you. Ruining you. 

It was a fantasy you had accepted would never come to be. Optimus was too busy with the war, too sensible to get involved with a human, and he didn’t have the right parts, anyway. Except, now he did.

And Primus, was it the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. 

Sturdy and metallic, shiny and sleek. And so, so thick. It looked like it was made to stretch you out, to nudge at your cervix and press against every spot imaginable in your tiny little cunt. You could already imagine him struggling to slide it in, although with the amount of fluid leaking from the slit, it might not even be a struggle at all. 

“Are you truly not intimidated by the implication of your proposition?” His deep voice lumbers, his grip on your hips tightening every so slightly, as if a warning.

He was so much bigger – stronger than you in every way imaginable – but instead of being afraid, you just shook your head, hands boldly reaching for the hem of your shirt and tugging it off. You know he would never hurt you, even with the heat in his spark and the lust in his cables, you trusted him completely. 

His optics went wide at your sudden toplessness, his processor freezing at the sight of your soft chest, now exposed. There’s a burning sensation in his chassis, his spark flaring in his chest as his reservations completely deplete.

His shaft begins to ache in a way he’s never experienced before, the sensors that reside there so desperate for friction that his hips involuntarily rut up into the air, shifting his thigh under you. You squeak at the sudden movement, your own thighs clamping around him to stabilize yourself, and you moan as your core slides against his plate.

He groans, his modulator letting out a thundering baritone sound as he lifts you by your hips, setting you down on the garage floor and following your form. He climbs over you, completely covering your body with his, hovering over you on his knee guards. 

“You are so…” His vernacular escapes him, the image of you under him – cheeks darkened, eyes blown, and tits out – is the only thing in his helm. 

He doesn’t know if he wants to call you foolish or ravishing. 

“I’d do anything for you, Optimus.” You declared, the adrenaline and desire pumping through your veins giving you an audacity that you didn’t know you possessed. “You should know that.”

“What is it that is making you say such things? Loyalty?” He questions in a grumble, his servos pinching at your bottoms, wondering if he should just rip them off. But despite how unnaturally turned on he is at the moment, he won’t take advantage of your strange, unwavering devotion to him. 

“I just… want you. And I know you want me too, even if it’s just until this passes. You can use me.”

His spark flares in his chest so hard he fears it might burn out at your audacious words.

“Primus.” He growls, actually growls, like some type of heat-crazed animal. 

He doesn’t need any more encouragement, his digits pulling at your pants, the flimsy fabric giving way easily to his strength until your underwear is revealed to him. His optics darken at the noticeable wet patch in the cotton, his processor blanks, and his rod drips out even more lubricant. 

The tip of his finger prods at your covered folds, dragging over your puffy clit and nudging at your twitching entrance as he watches with rapt attention. 

You squirm from the sensation, way more worked up than you wanted to let out, and you bite your lip to stifle a whimper as your hips chase his touch. 

“Stay still.” Optimus commands, his other servo moving to hold you in place, large enough to cup both your waist and thigh. 

His finger slips underneath your underwear, and you let out the most pornographic moan of your life when he actually presses against your sensitive bud, circling and rubbing. 

“Op–Optimus…” You mewled out, knees bending and shifting as you tried to cope with the blissful sensations he was blessing you with. 

His finger hooks around the seat of your panties, tugging them down your legs and off your ankles until you’re completely bare under him, trembling and needy. 

"I have never felt desire this powerful until I met you." He states, his voice rough with need as his optics scan you. “Do not think it is just your body I am wanting.”

He's still being gentle, hyper-aware of the power he holds over you, the potential to accidentally hurt you. But the lust coursing through him is making it harder and harder to hold back.

“Tell me… how is it that humans copulate?” He questions in a low rasp. He wants to do this right, even if, for some reason, his instincts are telling him to just force his shaft inside your tiny body and mount you until you’re bred. 

“I– there isn’t exactly a specific way… Just do what you want.” 

“What I want? What I want is to have you wrapped around my rod as I claim your body as mine.” He confesses, still hovering over you, pushing your knees up to your chest and watching your fluttering hole drool with anticipation. 

You gulp. It’s sort of hitting you now just how large he actually is, wondering if you’ve bitten off more than you can chew – more than you can manage to take.

Both of his servos hook underneath your knees, holding your thighs down, keeping you folded in half for him. 

Holy shit. This is actually happening.

You let out a pathetic whimper when his cock slides across your puffy little cunt, the metal shaft nestled between your folds and resting on your twitching clit. 

You’re so tiny and delicate beneath him, and the primal urges he’s been fighting all week ultimately winning the battle against his decorum. His systems burn hot at the thought of it – fucking into that tight little hole of yours until he's spilling deep inside of you, leaving his mark where no one else will ever know again. 

His hips rock forward, slit leaking lubricant that gets spread all over your pretty pussy, his voicebox letting out static and groans that reverberate in the garage. 

His helm tips back with a low, ragged moan. His optics temporarily go offline, his entire body shuddering with relief and ecstasy as he finally feels the friction he’s been needing, sensors overloading his capacities. 

“Oh my God– Optimus…” You weakly call out, feeling his rod cant against you, your insides clenching around nothing. 

Your breath catches when you feel the head of his shaft catch on your entrance, almost slipping inside.

“W-wait– what about prep?”

“Prep?” He repeats in a grumble, his hips continuing to move.

Your lips part to explain the concept of foreplay to him, but it’s too late. A squeal escapes you as he pushes into your velvety walls, your cunt clenching around the unexpected intrusion. It’s only the tip, but Primus you’re already being so stretched.

“Optimus–” You squeak out, all words escaping your diction as you try to breathe through the stinging. “W-wait,”

The Autobot immediately stills, optics scanning your face and recognizing discomfort. He can feel the way your body tenses beneath him, your tightness clamping down on his rod. 

“Sorry, little one.” He apologizes, voice rough but still soft-spoken. One of his servos moves, heading between your thighs so that the pad of his thumb digit can rub against your twitching clit – he thinks he saw something on the internet once that it would help. His other fingers curl around your backside, providing you with stability as he lifts your hips up just slightly.

Immediately, you mewl, walls fluttering again as your hips wriggle from the pleasure. Optimus deliberately leaks more lubrication directly into your hole, trying to make the glide easier. 

“May I try again, now?” He asks for permission, still gently toying with your twitching bud.

“Mm… Mhm…” You nodded, now only capable of making whiny noises. You’re already so wrecked, and he hasn’t even truly begun.

He pulls back slightly, then lets out a low groan as he pushes forward again, this time sinking deeper into your silky depths. He repeats the motion, staying patient and clement until he’s fully sheathed inside, his crotch pressed to yours. 

You’re still pulsing around him, a mixture of your slick and his fluid dripping around his shaft and down your ass.

God, you’re so full. It’s incomprehensible. You can feel him in your lungs, nestled so deep inside that there’s no part of your pussy his cock isn’t pressed against. It’s hard to breathe, to think, to do anything but savour the way he’s found home and heaven in your cunt.

You’re so tight, so warm, and so perfect around him. It’s overwhelming in the best way possible. He continues to let your body adjust to him, trying to keep his focus on soothing you with his thumb instead of ravaging you.

Once you relax a bit, you whisper out a quiet “okay”, knowing that his audials would pick up on your meek assent without an issue. 

He gives a slow roll of his hips just to feel how perfectly you take every inch of him; groaning softly when those sweet walls clench down on his shaft like they never want to let go again.

“You feel so good around me, little one.” His voicebox crackles out, and it takes every single ounce of power he has to not slam himself into your tiny frame. 

He’s desperate to have more of you, to just keep you under him, to just keep you close as he fucks you with the restraint of a saint. 

He can feel the way your body just trembles against him, the way you tighten around him as he moves, his shaft dragging against your walls every time he pulls out just to slide back in. 

His processors feel like they’re fraying. He can barely think straight, not when he's buried inside of you, allowing that burning ecstasy to overtake his systems. The only thing he can feel is the heat of your body, the hot pressure of your walls around him. 

His thrusts start to get slightly faster; lewd, wet sounds ringing out as he makes your pussy gush. He wants to keep this good for you, but there’s an indescribable, all-consuming need deep in his core that tells him to keep going until he properly claims you. 

You’re letting out babbled moans and shaky whines, caught off guard with the new pace, but you’re too weak to do anything but take what he gives you. You wouldn’t protest anyway. Not when it feels this good. Not when you’re the one who offered yourself up to him.

You’re so undeniably ruined, stuffed to the brim, all twitches and whimpers as he replaces any thoughts in your head with fuzz. 

He can’t wait to have you full of his completion, his seed. He can’t wait to see if it’ll take. He can’t wait to keep you all to himself. 

He hopes he can retain this form forever, so there’s not another day he has to go without experiencing the primal bliss of your body underneath his. 

i hope you guys enjoyed!! this was just meant to be a drabble but i got wayyyy too into it lol.

comments + reblogs are appreciated !! <3

tags: @unknownoperator

[tom-foolery-incorporated]

Using ratchet’s Chevron thing as handlebars send post

Ratchet x reader, reader has a vagina, Ratchet eating reader out, dirty talk, overstimulation, begging

Ratchet spread open your slick lips with his digits allowing him full view of your vulva. “It’s so cute how hard your little node gets,” he teased rubbing the tip of your clit under his massive metal thumb.

“Don’t tease!” You whined arching your hips into his touch.

Ratchet only snickered in response before blowing air over your wet pussy. You shivered feeling the heat from his internal fans as they pushed the air out of his intake and onto your folds. “I would,” Ratchet teased giving your pussy a kiss with his much larger mouth. “But you look so cute when you’re under me all frustrated.”

“You’re so mean,” you pouted trying to lift your hips to get Ratchet to rub over your clit once again.

“Now if you continue talking to me like that I might just leave you to deal with this-“ he accentuated his phrasing by giving you a firm lick over your arousal. “-All by yourself.”

You let out a shaky moan as you reached out for Ratchet’s chevrons.

The mech shuddered at your grasp as his engine let out a low rumble. “Primus you make it so hard to resist,” Ratchet grumbled before diving into your pussy. His dermas wrapped around your folds as he sucked in. The size difference made it so easy for Ratchet to relish every inch of your cunt as you leaked into his intake.

You pulled his helm forward with all your strength letting out whiney moans. His glossa was bigger than any cock you had ever taken and was prodding at your hole. Ratchet licked from your puckering anus back up through your folds before deciding to burry his mechanical tongue deep inside of your pussy.

“Ratchet!” You called out wrapping your legs around his helm.

The medic groaned into your cunt as he lapped up everything you gave him. The acidic ting of your juices was like a mild yet sweet energon candy. Ratchet was shocked when you mentioned you can’t smell your own pheromones when they lingered around your vulva like a cloud to him. The intoxicating mixture was hard for Ratchet to resist.

He slipped his glossa out of your hole to roam over your vulva. The sheer size of his mechanical tongue encompassed from your anus to your pubic mound when he let the appendage flop over top your pelvis.

“There’s my little human,” Ratchet hummed when he finally took time to gaze over your sweaty body. “Got you right where I want you.” You panted feeling your hairs stand on end in excitement with the predatory look Ratchet gave you.

“Tell me what you need, sweet spark,” Ratchet cooed knowing very well what you needed.

“Please,” you panted gripping his chevrons tightly. “Please just eat me out.”

“Yeah?” Ratchet chuckled. “You really want me to do that? Because when I do I’m not stopping.”

“Please, Ratchet!”

You shivered at the nefarious chuckle Ratchet gave you before he shoved his faceplate between your legs once again. His thick glossa slopped over your folds messily devouring whatever you gave him. His dermas puckered around your clit giving a great suck before releasing your needy nub and giving it a kiss.

“More!” You cried humping Ratchet’s face. “It’s so good, you’re so good!”

Ratchet chuckled in his croaky voice. He took your advice and returned to licking at your clit. The stiff nub moved with the prodding of his glossa. You could feel the hot air from his cooling face blowing against your skin. The soft rumble of all of his electrical components vibrated down his glossa and against your clit. You could feel yourself getting wetter every time Ratchet moved his optics up to your face. The pleased and self assured looks he would give you made you writhe under his grip.

“I’m close,” you whined as Ratchet abused your clit against his glossa. “Oh Ratchet!”

You squirmed and wiggled as his servos held your hips. A deep and dark satisfaction pooled in his optics as Ratchet felt you pull at his chevrons. He gave you a final suck before you flicked your hips up and cries out his name. You felt the electricity roll through your groin and down to your toes. Despite how to clawed and thrashed, Ratchet didn’t slow down how he was indulging in your cunt.

“Ratchet!” You cried trying to wiggle your hips away.

“I told you,” Ratchet grumbled into your pussy. “I’m not stopping.”

[tom-foolery-incorporated]

Heyo, I just finished rewatching tfp and have been on a Wheeljack kick (I love all versions of him tho) so I was binging your stuff and lemme just say, absolutely LOVE the way you write him, 10/10 cleared my skin did my taxes and all the works. AHH I could scream about it forever, lol

Anyways, have a good day!

Thank you!!!! I love Wheeljack so much <333 he’s such a goober!! Here’s a Wheeljack quickie I’ve been pondering at work. Boss makes a dollar I make a dime thats why i come up with robot smut on company time!

“There it is,” Wheeljack praised as you sunk down on his spike. Your hands were fully engulfed in his servos leaving you no way to move out of his grip. “Nice and tight fit.”

Your knees wobbled at Wheeljack’s voice nearly causing you to fall and impale yourself on his spike.

“Careful,” Wheeljack chuckled. You whined as pushed your hips down further. You managed to take a little over half of his spike inside of your heat. Your wet, gummy walls clung to him as his tip kissed at your cervix threatening to break through directly into your womb. You felt your knees sweat onto the towel Wheeljack had laid down for traction. Loving a robotic alien was a learning experience and you slipping off Wheeljack’s pelvis from your sweat was definitely part of the learning curve.

You swirled your hips testing how he felt inside of you. Wheeljack was bigger than anything you’ve ever taken before. He filled you to your limits and pushed what you thought your body could take. Those hours Wheeljack spent fingering you, testing the new toys he’d made on you, and having you masturbate for him all came together with him buried deep inside of you.

“Feelin’ good?” Wheeljack said lowly as you tried to find a good pace.

“Always,” you panted as Wheeljack tugged you forward by your hands.

“Yeah? How’s it feel, sweet spark?”

“You’re huge,” you moaned as you bounced your hips. “You always fill me so good!”

“Cutie,” Wheeljack cooed as your body seemed to work on its own. “Tell me more. I wanna know how I’m making my little human feel.”

You moaned out his name as you arched your back to get his spike at a better angle inside of you. “I never want you to pull out. Please-FUCK-please it’s so good!”

Wheeljack couldn’t help how he thrusted upwards at your babbling. You cried out as you collapsed onto his chasis still trying to move your hips to hump his spike. Seeing you so desperate made him moan as he squeezed your hands. You continued moving your hips back and forth at a rapid and needy pace until his spike flung free of your sopping pussy. You nearly sobbed at being so empty once again. Wheeljack couldn’t help how the little laugh he let out.

“Poor thing,” he teased. He released one of your hands to guide his spike back to your hole. “Just need to keep you stuffed and fucked stupid, huh? Will that make it better?”

You cried out his name as he pushed himself back inside of you. With both his servos on your hips he guided you to move on his spike. Wheeljack cooed while bouncing you on his mechanical cock. His vocalization indicators burned brighter than you had ever seen as he praised you for taking him so well. Your little hands gripped at his arm plating as you were tossed around and used as a toy. While Wheeljack wasn’t necessarily a large bot he was still much bigger than you and loved to remind you of that when he had you in his berth.

[tom-foolery-incorporated]

Short Megatron x reader blurb

Overstimulation, pain kink, virility insecurity, age difference, reader has a vagina, sub reader, racially ambiguous

Old man?

Old man?!

The nerve Rodimus had sometimes. It made Megatron’s EM field pulse in anger and his energon tubing bubble over. The kid barely has any experience let alone enough to properly captain a ship alone. Old man? BAH!

“Megs!” Your whiney voice called as he pistoned his hips against you. Even in his mass displaced form he was still so much bigger than you. His spike was practically as thick as your forearm and here he was shoving it into you like you were a damn toy.

Old man. What kind of old man could fuck his human silly like this? Your legs were pushed up to your ears as your pussy made delicious wet slapping sounds with every thrust of Megatron’s spike. What kind of old man could have you crying and overstimulated like this? Rodimus didn’t know what he was talking about.

“You will take what I give you,” Megatron grunted as he folded you in half.

Megatron wasn’t some ancient, geriatric automaton. He led the Decepticons for millions of years, he was a mech not to be tried with and yet every day Rodimus liked to find new buttons to push.

“It’s too much!” You sobbed feeling your sore pussy betray you and pull your lover’s spike in deeper with every thrust. “Megsy, it’s too big!”

Megatron chuckled lowly as he pressed down on your clit with his thumb. The whiney pained sounds you made were like his personal orchestra performing a beautiful rhapsody. He rubbed firm circles over your puffy clit making you squirm and cry out for mercy. You knew your safe word and if you weren’t uttering it Megatron was more than happy with taking what he wanted from your body.

Old man? If Rodimus could see how vigorously he fucked your brains out the damn sparkling wouldn’t be able to comment on his virility again. If only he could see the wet, sloppy mess that you made on your inner thighs that so beautifully leaked under you all because of Megatron. Your pussy being used as nothing more than a hole that needed to be plugged with his spike. Megatron’s age was not a reflection of his ability nor his energy. He was more than capable of keeping up with the demands of his position and he was more than capable of pleasuring you within an inch of your life.

“Tell me,” Megatron said lowly. “Who do you belong to?”

“You!” You sobbed as you wiggled your hips both chasing and running from Megatron’s pelvis.

“Who?” Megatron grunted as he pulled you forward by your pubic mound to meet his thrusts.

You cried out as the pain tipped you over the edge into a squirting orgasm. “Megatron! I belong to you, Megatron!”

“Good,” Megatron grunted watching how your tears streaked down your face. “Remember that this valve is mine to use as I please.” Your body flopped around dumbly as he fucked into you.

Old man? Megatron was no old man.

[quackfallbackhq]

Transformers Autobots Characters Reacting To They're S/o Thinking Of Having Their Sparkling's (NSFW DRABBLES?)

(semi) SMUT - you been warned

The characters are written down below are,, Optimus Prime, Bumblebee, Ratchet, Jazz, Ironhide, Sideswipe, Crosshairs, Drift, Hound and Hotrod.

Optimus Prime

Optimus stills—his entire frame locked as your whispered words register.

You thought about having sparkings anyway.

His spark flares, heat thrumming through his frame as his servos instinctively tighten on your hips. His optics dim, processor struggling to keep up with the sheer weight of what you just confessed.

“You… thought about carrying mine?” His voice is low, rough—there’s something primal lurking beneath the usual control.

And then he groans, optics flickering as he pulls you closer, his frame still deeply connected to yours.

“… Then let’s make it happen.”

Bumblebee

Bee’s entire frame shutters, vents stuttering as he tries to process what you just said.

"You… you thought about it?"

His servos tremble against your thighs, his engine revving instinctively. You feel the way his spark pulses against yours, how his field tightens around you.

His optics flash, helm pressing into your shoulder as he grinds into you just a little more—still sensitive but reacting to the idea.

“Primus, you can’t just say that,” he murmurs, nuzzling into your neck, voice thick with something deep, something needy. “Now I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Ratchet

Ratchet’s processor blue screens.

Like—this wasn’t a conversation he expected to have while still buried inside you.

His optics flicker, his servo gripping your waist as his vents struggle to cycle properly.

“… You want that?” His voice is rough, almost hoarse.

You nod, hips shifting just slightly against him, and he growls—low, deep, his spark flaring as the implications of what you’re saying hit hard.

“… Then we might need to test your frame’s compatibility,” he mutters, lips grazing your jaw. “Thoroughly.”

Jazz

Jazz whimpers.

Like, actually whimpers.

His processor is fried, his entire frame shuddering as your words settle into his very spark.

“Oh, frag—”

He buries his face against your chest, field wrapping around yours in a desperate, needy embrace.

"You can't just say that, babe,” he pants, his servos gripping your hips, optics blazing.

But then—he grins, lazy and sultry, his hips rolling just slightly to emphasize he’s still deep inside you.

“… Guess we better keep trying ‘til we know for sure, huh?”

Ironhide

Ironhide’s engine rumbles.

Your words sink in slowly—his processor taking an extra second to fully grasp what you just admitted.

And then?

His grip tightens.

"You thought about it, huh?" His voice is low, deep, filled with something possessive.

His optics flash, his entire field surging around you as he pulls you closer, his plating still pressed flush against yours.

“… Then maybe it’s time we stop thinking and make it real.”

Sideswipe

“Oh, frag, you mean that?”

Sideswipe’s vents shudder, his entire frame twitching from overstimulation, but frag if he doesn’t immediately react to what you just whispered.

You feel his engine rev, his servo gripping your thigh as his processor struggles to keep up.

"Primus, you can’t just drop that on me right after—"

His optics flicker, something hungry brewing in his expression.

“… You sure? ‘Cause I really wouldn’t mind putting in some more… effort.”

Crosshairs

Crosshairs chokes.

Like, full-on chokes. His vents glitch, his entire frame going rigid as his processor shuts down for a solid three seconds.

Then—his optics flick to yours. Wide.

“Wait, wait—you what?”

You smirk, shifting just slightly around him, and he groans, helm dropping back as his servos tighten around you.

"Primus, you can't just say stuff like that—" He pauses, optics flickering with something darker.

"... But if you're serious, sweetheart? Then frag, we better get to work."

Drift

Drift stills.

His optics are dark, his vents slow and measured—but his field? It flares so intensely around you that you feel the weight of his emotions immediately.

“… You would carry mine?”

His servo drifts to your abdomen, his plating still intimately pressed against yours as his spark pulses hard.

The reverence in his gaze, the way his lips part slightly as he drinks in your words—it’s overwhelming.

“… Then let us not waste time, my love.”

Hound

Hound groans—deep, rough, his entire frame thrumming beneath you.

"You thought about it?" His voice is gravelly, optics flickering as his servos tighten on your waist.

Then, suddenly, his lips are on you again—claiming, desperate, his spark pulsing violently against yours.

“… Then we better make damn sure it happens.”

And with the way he rolls his hips? Oh, he’s not stopping anytime soon.

HotRod

Hot Rod whimpers.

Like, actually whimpers. His vents are shaky, his optics wide as your words fully register.

“… Wait. You mean that?”

His field flares, his servos locking around your waist as his processor overheats.

You nod—smug, teasing—and he groans, his engine revving uncontrollably.

"Oh, frag, babe—you know I’m gonna make sure it happens now, right?”

And with the way his hips instinctively buck into yours again? Yeah, you knew exactly what you were doing.

notes - you can read this as different transformers shows or comics you wish, I personally imagine these of Bayverse autobots x cybertronian reader, there's still more I want to write down but let me know if you want more of different things!

[quackfallbackhq]

Transformers Autobots Characters Fully Committing To It Now (NSFW DRABBLES?)

Oh, frag.

A whole week—seven nights—of nothing but them pressing you into the berth, their frame caging yours, their voice thick and hungry as they push deep, again and again.

They’re relentless.

Every night, you start off with some strength—but by the end, you’re melting, your body wrecked, your voice nothing but soft, breathless whimpers as they fill you over and over until you can’t hold any more.

And the worst part? You love it.

SMUT - you been warned

The characters are written down below are,, Optimus Prime, Bumblebee, Ratchet, Jazz, Ironhide, Sideswipe, Crosshairs, Drift, Hound and Hotrod.

Optimus Prime

Optimus tells himself he should pace it—but the moment he’s buried deep inside you, the moment he feels you clench so sweetly around him, his restraint snaps.

Every night, he ruins you.

His thrusts are deep, deliberate, his servos pinning your hips as he watches your expression twist with pure, blissful exhaustion.

By the third night, your body practically melts into his, too spent to do anything but take what he gives. And Primus, that just makes him want to keep going.

“You asked for this,” he growls, voice dark, lips tracing your heated skin. “Now, take it.”

Bumblebee

Bee started off teasing—but by night four, it’s no longer a game.

It’s a need.

He worships you, his servos gripping tight, his engine revving as he loses himself in the way your body takes him so perfectly.

Every night, you end up a whimpering mess beneath him, your body trembling, unable to move, too wrecked to do anything but let him fill you up again.

And frag, that only makes him want to keep going.

“You’re so fragging good for me,” he groans, pressing his forehead against yours. “You still got another round in you, sweets?”

You always do.

Ratchet

Ratchet knew this was a bad idea—he knew you wouldn’t last the full week.

But Primus, you insisted.

And now?

Now, you’re spent, your frame wrecked, your voice no longer begging for more, but begging for a break—

But does he stop?

No.

His movements are slow, deliberate, his spark pulsing wildly as he watches you tremble beneath him, taking everything he gives you.

“You wanted this, love,” he rumbles, voice thick with possession. “So now, you’ll take it.”

And oh, you do.

Jazz

Jazz thought he’d be the one to tap out first.

He was wrong.

By the sixth night, you’re melting beneath him, your body weak, your voice a soft, breathless whimper as he fills you up again and again.

And Primus, he loves it.

“Too much, babe?” he teases, his smirk dark as he rolls his hips just right, making your whole frame shudder.

But the second you let out a broken moan—

Oh, frag.

He’s gone.

Ironhide

Ironhide warned you.

He told you a whole week would be too much.

But you insisted.

And now?

Now, you’re spent, your frame trembling, your voice a breathless whimper as he presses into you again, filling you completely.

He should stop. He should.

But frag, you’re so soft beneath him, so weak from taking him night after night—

And Primus, that only makes him want to keep going.

“You said a week,” he growls, voice dark as he thrusts deep. “So I’m gonna give you one.” his servos slide between the crevice behind her knees as he fold her nicely.

folding her knees to touch her shoulder plates as his hips snapped towards her valve.

Sideswipe

Sideswipe laughed when you first suggested it.

A whole week? There was no way you’d last that long.

But now?

Now, you’re melting under him, too wrecked to do anything but cling to his frame, letting him take what he needs.

And oh, he needs it.

“Aw, babe,” he chuckles, voice thick with hunger. “You’re so fragging wrecked, huh?”

And the second you let out a weak little whimper—

Oh, he’s not stopping now.

Crosshairs

Crosshairs should’ve known this would happen.

By the fourth night, you’re already spent, your frame trembling beneath him, your voice breathless as he fills you up again.

“You’re so fraggin’ soft now,” he murmurs, his servo sliding over your trembling frame. “Practically meltin’ for me.”

And frag, if that doesn’t make him want to wreck you all over again.

Drift

Drift had been gentle—at first.

But by night three, something inside him snaps.

You’re so soft beneath him, so pliant, your body trembling as you take everything he gives you—

And Primus, he needs more.

“You will endure,” he murmurs, voice thick with reverence, his movements slow but deep.

And oh, you do.

Each thrust send her though pleasure after pleasure, her whines make him increase each gentle thrust into more needy and hard ones, just by hearing her needy sounds made Drift himself snap.

But he shouldn't, not if they both have all week to continue on

Hound

Hound knew you’d be wrecked before the week was up.

But frag, did you look good like this.

Soft. Weak. Too spent to do anything but let him press you down, keeping you full all fraggin’ night.

And the way you melt for him?

Primus.

“You wanted this, sugar,” he rumbles, pressing a slow, deep thrust into you. “So now, you’re gonna take it.”

And frag, do you ever.

His large size makes her feel many things at once, the tight squeeze he feels when he would grind back in makes him full on shudder.

HotRod

Hot Rod thought he was the one in control.

He was wrong.

Because now, you’re so wrecked, so weak beneath him, your body trembling, your voice a soft, breathless whimper—

And frag, he needs to fill you up again.

He should stop. He should.

But with you this soft, this wrecked, he just can’t help but press a slow, deep thrust into you again.

“… Just one more,” he mutters, knowing damn well it won’t be.

And frag, do you let him.

notes - ahhh.. I suck at drawing transformers bots..

[revelboo]

I thank you immensely for enlightening me of the Transformers merch on AliExpress. Now I have a pocket Prime to carry around and cherish to my heart's content~

Look at him! 💕 I might have ordered Megs, Soundwave, and Shocky

Sure! 🔞 Mass displaced mech 🌶️ mentions of female bits

Inexperienced

Optimus x Reader

• Warm servos brush your skin as the mass displaced mech helps you strip and your heart is racing. Because you don’t know what you’re doing. And what if it’s not good? If you disappoint him somehow? Resting a hand on the back of his as his mouth brushes your temple, you try to guess what he’s thinking. Does he like what he sees? Or are you just alien and weird to him? “Can we take it slow?” You ask nervously when his servos hook in the waist of your pants to try to push them down over your hips. Embarrassed when he hesitates, expression questioning and you make yourself suck it up and say it. “I haven’t been with anyone before.”

• Frowning before it sinks in, he freezes. Realizing what you mean. Honored and intimidated that you want him to be your first. And painfully aware of the size difference between you even mass displaced. Suddenly, you won’t meet his optics. Like you’re embarrassed and ashamed about it and knowing that if he questions if you’re really sure you want this, you’ll take it as a rejection. Doesn’t want that, because he does want you so bad it hurts. Wants to touch you, taste you, recharge with you in his arms. Claim you as his. But somehow this is more intimidating than dealing with the Decepticons. “I can go slow,” he says, cupping your cheek.

• “Okay,” you whisper, turning your face into his palm. Nervous, but wanting this, wanting him to be your first. Maybe only partner. Love the big mech, how gentle he is with you. Heart thumping against your ribs when he kneels and you shimmy out of your pants and underwear for him, letting them fall around your feet. Can feel him venting against your bare skin as he lays a warm hand on your thigh, a servo teasing the apex of your thighs and you’ve never felt so vulnerable in your life. ‘Can I touch you?’ He asks, optics looking up at you and when you nod, he encourages you to spread your thighs for him. Feel a servo explore your folds, the tip dipping into your core to make you suck in a sharp breath. “Wait.” Grabbing his wrist, you stare at him.

• “Let me take care of you,” he rumbles, venting to pull your scent deep. And when he reaches for you, you ease down on your knees facing him. Let him gently lay you back and you spread your thighs for him without him having to ask even though you look so uncertain. Trusting yourself to him and it makes him love you even more. Mouth closing on a servo before cupping you, exploring you in careful touches. The scent of you, of your arousal sinks into him as he shifts to stretch out between your thighs.

• He’s not going to- arching suddenly when he presses his mouth against you, you gasp his name, thighs trembling. Because he is. Lips sliding against you, finding and teasing your clit mercilessly when you buck your hips. Feeling him sucking, before his glossa slides against you. Slides inside you. Fingers clutching at his helm, there’s a thought that you should be horrified as you rock against his mouth, whimpering his name. Feeling yourself heat and coil as you grind against him and when you come apart, it’s a shock, thighs trembling as he growls against you.

• Pressing his mouth against your inner thigh and venting raggedly as he struggles against the urge to softly bite. Just enough to leave the impression of his denta, a mark that you’re his. Claimed. Would you let him do that? Getting himself under control, he shifts up your body, caging you. Watching you come down from the high, eyes wide and dark with pleasure. His. Only his. Releasing his spike to let it pressurize against your hip, he shifts against you, sliding the head against you, slicking himself with you and you lift your hands like you want to lay them on him and then hesitate. “Touch me,” he whispers, the words harsher than he meant them to be, a demand. But you still lay those soft hands on his chassis, exploring him as he presses against you and you grab onto him with a gasp. Venting with restraint, he rocks himself against you, stretching you slowly and watching your face. “Breathe, little one.”

• Exhaling on a shudder, you hang onto him. Feel him curl his hips, there’s head of his spike stretching you with a faint burn before retreating. Eyes closing, you hesitantly move with him, rocking yourself slowly up to meet him. Because he’s not going to hurt you. Never has. And when you relax, the head of his spike suddenly sinks into you to make both of you groan. Nails dipping into the seams of his plating when he lazily moves inside you. Squirming at the pressure, the burn of him stretching you and there’s momentary discomfort that makes you shudder when he slides deep, sheathing himself inside you. “Relax for me,” he whispers as he slowly moves inside you.

• Groaning, jaw clenching, he’s afraid to touch you, afraid of being too rough as he moves against you. You’re so small, slick and wrapped so tight around his spike as he rocks himself against you. Feeling you start to move with him, whimpering as he rubs his cheek against you, venting in the scent of you and him mingling. So aroused knowing he’s your first lover, that you trusted him to be your first. “Optimus,” you moan, breath hitching and he shudders when you come apart against, fisting his spike. So tight he can’t thrust, just rocking urgently against you until he’s snarling your name, overloading so hard he feels himself overheating as his fans kick on.

• Squirming and feeling his heat spilling into you, you hang onto him, feel his head brush yours. “Are you okay?” He asks, voice hesitant as he noses against your face. Arms wrapping around his neck, you relax as he settles himself against you, mindful to not crush you. ‘Yeah,’ you manage, not sure what to say or do now. He’s still stretching you, his spike pulsing inside you. And it’s intimate in a way that’s almost frightening as you cautiously reach to cup his face and his optics shutter, leaning into your touch. “Let me bond you,” he growls suddenly and you blink. Bond?

[revelboo]

Do you have any bay Ratchet crumbs to spare?

Sure! 🔞 Mass displaced mech 🌶️

Need

Bayverse Ratchet x Reader

• “Wait-frag, I said wait,” he groans and you start laughing when you roll your hips and bounce on him, hands wrapped around the metal piping of the brush guard on his chassis for leverage and his sirens and lights cycle quickly before he can stop them. Feels your head bump against him as you snort, but you’re holding still at least. Giving him a chance to get himself under control so he doesn’t just rut into your wet heat. Because even mass displaced, you’re tiny and stretched so tight around his spike.

• Laughing even as the sudden chirp of his sirens startled you and his lights blinded you for a second so spots are still dancing in front of your eyes, you hear his frustrated rumble. Feel him grip you around the middle and begin to move you slowly on his spike with a groan when you want fast and hard. “Ratch,” you moan breathlessly, rocking your hips urgently as his spike pushes deep, feeling every ridge as he stretches you and he lifts you so the head of his spike nearly slips free before he’s lowering you again. “I need fast.” Can’t climax without it and he smirks. Because he knows.

• “You’ll get fast after I’m done,” he counters, smiling when you groan a protest that he’s being mean. When you’re the one who’d come out of the back and walked past him in his vehicle mode, hip sliding against his fender. Making sure he’d been able to scent that you were back there touching yourself. Have to have been to scent so strongly of heat and need he can almost taste it. Teasing him thinking there would be no repercussions.

• Trembling as he takes his sweet time, finally beginning to move faster, denta gritted as he drives up into you in hard, wet slaps before he’s overloading to leave you behind and you whine his name again. Hear him muttering an ‘alright,’ as he lifts you free of his spike and drapes you on your belly on a crate, legs hanging. You can feel the edge of the crate digging into your thighs as he leans over you, venting against the small of your back and his mouth opens against your shoulder. “You know they’re all going to scent me on you,” he growls and you feel the head of his spike leave a damp trail on your inner thigh as he lines himself up and stretches you in a hard drive. “Know I’ve been inside you, that you’re mine.”

• Hips pumping in that urgent rhythm you need, his servos flex on your hips. Those whimpers and moans of yours so sweet amid the wet sound of his spike driving inside you. And you’re getting louder, running the risk of Jazz or Optimus coming to check on the noise. What will they think if they see him rutting inside you? Filling you? Imagines their expressions seeing his slick trailing down your thighs, should be embarrassed at the thought like a decent bot, but it just cranks everything hotter. Hears you scream his name and there’s no way they didn’t hear that as you fist his spike and he’s bucking against you, overloading again as his hand smacks against the crate for balance, shuddering as he fills you and hears steps outside the store room. Should stop, pull out and pretend nothing happened, instead of moving inside you all over again, hips snapping against you. Let them see. Let them know you’re his.

[revelboo]

I love you and your weird little mind so much

Really, reading your stuff gives me joy!

Also, *crawls out of a dark corner* can we get more ratchet please? (With sprinkles and green energon on top💔💞)

🤣 my mind is definitely weird. Also: Symbiote Studios finally made another Soundwave plush so I can replace the smaller one my little brother ruined with automotive grease (they also have Rumble and Frenzy)

🔞 mass displaced mech 🌶️

Soundwave Superior Plush Toy – 12-Inch Official Transformers Plush

Snuggle up with Soundwave! This 12-inch Transformers plush toy is ultra-soft, officially licensed, and perfect for fans, collectors, and kid

Needy

Synthen TFP Ratchet x Reader

• “Doc,” you groan, feeling big hands on your hips, dragging you out of your warm nest of blankets to roll you onto your back and you groan louder seeing his optics flare green. Again? “Are you seriously still messing with that stuff?” You grumble even as he’s palming your thighs with a rumbling growl, venting against your bare skin to make you squirm. Don’t know why he wants to use himself as a guinea pig for that goop, but you never actually complain about the repercussions even though you’d rather he didn’t try these things on himself.

• Chuckling at your tone, because he knows you love when he’s riled up, his mouth brushes you and you arch, breathily whimpering his name. Feels so much younger on synthetic energon, hungrier. Glossa and lips sliding against you, he groans at your taste and his servos tighten on your soft thighs. Feels your hands hanging onto his helm as you buck against his mouth. And he smirks when you shatter with a moan, your head falling back and he releases his aching spike.

• Thighs trembling as he pulls your legs up, ankles against his shoulders, you feel the head of his spike stretch you. Squirming at the position and that he feels thicker than normal, his hips pump urgently against you. Rutting inside you as he growls your name and you can feel every ridge on his spike stroking inside you as his hips snap. Can hear him snarling your name, praise mingling with demands as he thrusts deep and you come apart suddenly.

• Groaning as he bucks against you, he drives deep with a shudder when your slick heat fists him and he’s overloading to fill you, servos digging into your thighs. Venting raggedly when his fans kick on higher, he slips free and almost overloads again at the sight of your thighs slick with his excess. Growling, he flips you onto your belly, hooking an arm under you as he sheathes himself again. Feels so good, a young bot again as he loses himself in the feel of you. And the idea of sparking you lifts through him. How many times have you asked and he’s said no, thought he was too old? Doesn’t feel too old now.

• Thighs trembling, you groan when he just keeps going, hips smacking against you. Know when he’s wound up on synthetic energon, that he’ll keep going for hours. That you’re going to be sore by the time he finishes. His hips surging against you as his mouth brushes your cheek, you lay your head on an arm, gasping and moaning as he thrusts. Feel his chassis brush your back as he moves against you, spike diving deep as his thrusts suddenly slow, stopping buried deep inside you. “I want a sparkling,” he growls in your ear and your breath catches, head turning to look back at him as he grins. And you’re afraid to hope he’s serious, that he won’t regret it later when the synthetic energon is out of his system. Feel his plating shift against your back and his spark snares you in him before you can say a word.