my duckling army, CHARGEEEEEE 🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🐦⬛🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆🦆
You were alive for much longer than you expected. The Decepticons tried to use you for bait, but every time you basically knocked at death's door, and honestly, you would step in for some tea since this all has been crazy.
They have long given up on you, and decided that you were better off on the ship and learning everything about humans so that they could have more knowledge on humanity, and maybe it would prove useful, but you could tell that Megatron couldn't care less, and probably saw it stupid to learn anything from a fleeting race.
Starting to get homesick from the ship, you started begging for Knockout or Breakdown to take you out down to Earth, knowing that no one else will. They always refused, though you couldn't even be mad since Megatron would easily find out, and they don't want to get a beating from him.
Now you find yourself in front of him, crossed arms, a frown on your face. "Your point?" He waved his claws. "I want to go down to Earth." Stubbornly, asking for the billionth time, you could tell he was starting to get sick of it. That was your goal, to make him break to get you out just so that you would shut up, it honestly works with a lot of stubborn people who don't like constantly being prodded.
"No." But you severely underestimated his patience and stubbornness, not to mention the tolerance to your constant whining. It was honestly surprising, considering how easy it is for him to snap at others.
"Come on! You can come too!" You threw your arms up, you were seriously thinking of throwing a real tantrum. "No." You gripped your head, what will it take for this hulk of metal to gain some sense?
"Why not?" You sighed, dropping your hands down. The silence stretched for a while, "Because I don't want the Autobots to come and rescue you again." He admitted, but there was an underlying meaning to it, something he didn't want to admit to anyone.
You knew what happened last time, you almost got blasted to oblivion, it wasn't as funny back then as it is now, two truths and a lie would be a game changer with that experience.
You huffed, "Why care now? It's not like you're going to take over this planet anyway." You rolled on your heel and walked back to your makeshift bed. At least now you had a sponge to lay on.
You searched for anything to entertain yourself, but you've been through everything a hundred times, it all seemed boring. Then you got this stupid idea, since you're bored out of your mind here, why not bother the person who isn't going to do a damn thing about it?
"What were you like before the war?" You blurted out, not even lifting your head from your notebook. You could tell the question caught him by surprise since he seemed eerily still from your peripheral vision.
His mind short circuited for a moment before mustering up an answer: "I was a gladiator." That caught your attention, head shooting up to meet his eyes. "Gladiator? Your people had those too?" He seemed glad for a moment that you weren't bored anymore, and that he had something to keep your mind occupied, but it also involved him.
"We had a lot of things on Cybertron. Being a gladiator wasn't for the weak, working in the mines beforehand made me able to climb up the ranks." He saw you listening carefully, chin in your hand and your notebook forgotten. "Go on."
You two spent a good two hours talking about his early life. Occasionally taking small notes about his life. "So you're telling me that instead of joining Optimus when he got the Matrix thingy and working together to make things better, you turned against him?" He nodded and you just stared.
That was a whole level of doing stupid things, but honestly, after taking everything into consideration, Optimus was different from him in many ways. So you know their opinions could clash and start more problems. "I guess I could see your reason for that." You looked at your notes, realizing that sooner or later they would clash either way.
"But still, could you have at least a bit of reason with him?" He slammed his fist on the table. "Optimus lost my trust the second they pronounced him a Prime!" The impact caused you to jump up with the bed. "Okay, fine! Be your stubborn self, jeez..." You straightened out your makeshift blanket.
Hearing him clear his vents, you look up again. He seemed lost in thought for a bit before his optics snapped to you. "This conversation should have ended long ago..." He slid his servo from the table, making an unpleasant screeching sound of metal as he did so. Leaving you, again, with your thoughts.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Previous
Bruh this is way shorter than I expected T-T srr for not posting a while >,M,<
megatron who, despite himself, cannot keep his optics away from you when you’re sleeping. he should not be lingering on useless flesh, especially when your presence compromises the havoc he permits himself, and yet, here you are, skin pressed against the hard haul of his chest, finding warmth where only cold steel should be.
he forbids himself from moving, for each twitch of his frame would undoubtedly wake you up. not only is it terrible to hold such a brittle thing between the destructive forces of his claws, but he also curses the way he cannot seem to be able to do anything about it. in fact, lord megatron shamefully follows the way your body moves with each breath and estimates he might tolerate your presence only a bit longer. a brief respite won’t hurt him, will it?
only it does, and he cannot relax like you are. you found a spot and he’s found a problem. he’s even considered his alt form so you could not see the subtle expression of embarrassment on his face when you awoke, before second guessing the utility of a tank for one as small as you to sleep into. the only thing the decepticon is truly glad for is for his subjects’ abcense, mortified that they could’ve walked in on him indulging a human for even a moment of inattention.
thing is, ever since the gladiator pits, ever since the fall of cybertron, he hasn’t known anything as sweet and soothing as the press of your skin against the hardened plates of his body. it doesn’t dent or scratch his paint, nor does it threaten to dig into the metal like so many others have. no, it kisses his form. the fat of your thighs welcome his waist like a seat, body trusting in the way it relaxes against him. this pathetic truth that he might not be as sharp as he believed traps him to you, like a dutiful knight.
sharp talons reach for your hair, careful in their approach. a snark plays on his lips, a disgusted snarl pressing past them as he inspects foreign texture. it isn’t unpleasant but rather soft, a stark contrast to the living things he encountered during his years on cybertron. and that is truly all that you were, a dangerous temptation away from the true purpose of his existence. strands of hair roll around the tip of his digits, teasing some buried, bothering fragility. he despised it — fragility — even more when it materialized in the inferior form of another weaker species. so then, why isn’t he doing anything about it?
“your lack of awareness will be your downfall.” he mutters, circuits overheating as he feels your hand sleeplessly reach for an anchor to properly switch position. your fingers finally grip something, his hand, the one he’s holding out for you, begrudgingly. his grumbling sends vibrations to your chest, disturbing the calm beating of your heart, and, for a moment’s breath, your eyes open.
“mmh..”
it is the softest plea he’s ever heard, the only thing you can muster against such a force. now, not only are you his problem, but he is yours. his claws reach for you, pressing your cheeks and lifting your head so that the dangerous colors of his optics reflect into your own. yet, he never strikes, he lingers. he lingers on each slow flutter of your lashes, on the subtle squeeze of your hand around the edge of his enormous one and, most importantly, on the way you look at him stripped of all the fear he got so accustomed to see from humankind.
it’s foolish really, but he can’t help himself. his pulsions have guided him his whole life and now he’s allowing them to take a step further. what serves as thumb traces the line of your jaw, a treacherous claw threatening the fragility of flesh until it settles around your neck.
“frail little thing.” and right there, between exhausted whimpers, you think megatron will squeeze his hand around your throat and claim your life as his, for it would be of great comfort to know none have broken his everlasting iron cage.
.. but, his arm hovers over your frame, its shadow draping you with false security, the only one he allows. a makeshift shelter against the outside world and everything that threatens your peace, only so that you could rest a little more. “don’t move, or it’ll be the last thing you do.”
Avoiding using the word "said" because its too boring 😆
🤣 Okay, so I have a love/hate relationship with that particular bit of writing advice because it’s some of the most common you get as a writer along with ‘show don’t tell’ and it makes it seem like using said is problematic when it’s really the overuse of said as a dialogue tag that’s the problem.
So normally on here, I do my short format I use to quickly draft scenes so I can move on and fix it later, but for this experiment, let’s do it the “proper” way.
TFP Megatron x Reader
“Something on your mind, pet? Or someone, maybe? You know that I can tell when that deviant little mind wanders my way,” he says.
“Bold of you to assume I’m thinking about you,” you say.
“You’re a terrible liar. Lucky for you, I actually find it your most charming trait,” he says.
“You’re such a romantic,” you say.
Technically, this is all perfectly correct. But it’s also mind-numbingly tedious to read. It’s boring and predictable. So let’s add some action indicators so we can ditch some of those saids, because right now we have floating heads in a void.
“Something on your mind, pet? Or someone, maybe? You know that I can tell when that deviant little mind wanders my way,” he says. His optics track you hungrily. He reaches to pluck an energon goodie from the bowl and sucks on it.
“Bold of you to assume I’m thinking about you.” You wrap your arms around yourself and lift your chin. You don’t look away from those red optics. You ignore the way they slowly travel down your body in a heated perusal.
“You’re a terrible liar. Lucky for you, I actually find it your most charming trait.” His voice dips to a low purr just to watch you squirm. He smirks as your face heats.
“You’re such a romantic,” you say. You turn away from him. You’re embarrassed that his words have an effect on you. You feel like you shouldn’t respond or like him. He’s playing games with you and you know it.
Okay. The saids are gone, but this? It’s still not right, is it? Now I’m telling instead of showing. The sentence structures are correct, but it’s a slog to read through. It’s boring. Predictable. A little painful. So, let’s try this again.
“Something on your mind, pet? Or someone, maybe? You know that I can tell when that deviant little mind wanders my way,” he says, optics running over the tempting shape of you as his lips twitch. Do you really think he can’t scent you? Leaning to reach for an energon goodie, he rumbles and presses it against his lips. Sucking.
Face heating, you don’t look away from that hungry stare. Watching him mouth and suck at the little nub of energon. Seeing a slip of his glossa curling against it. Messing with you. “Bold of you to assume I’m thinking about you.” Refusing to look away you cross your arms and raise your brows. Because you can play this game, too. Even if the way his optics slowly slide down your body in a lazy perusal leaves you flustered. Makes you wonder how much you can tease until he pounces. Part of you wanting him to.
Chuckling softly, he pops the energon goodie into his mouth. “You’re a terrible liar. Lucky for you, I actually find it your most charming trait.” Voice dipping into that low purr that always gets a response, he smirks as you scowl at him even as your scent shifts. Becomes all heat and need.
“You’re such a romantic,” you say, turning away from him and your face feels hot. Your whole body hot, really. Embarrassed that his words have an effect on you when you’re pretty sure that you’re playing a dangerous game. Trying to get a rise out of him. But then, you’ve never liked losing, so backing down isn’t an option. Especially when the repercussions are so delicious.
Okay, so now I’m not telling you what happens, I’m showing. The sentence structure isn’t necessarily proper anymore, though. It’s varied. Long like a deep breath in places and punchy like an exclamation point in others. I’ve still used said. I could have tagged every bit of speech with some sort of dialogue indicator, but there’s really no need unless you want to give it some oomph or to reinforce who’s speaking- I do that in my short form since I can have more than one person speaking in a paragraph. I personally like said. Just not used every single time a character speaks. Your goal as a writer is immersion. You want to trigger that suspension of disbelief and to avoid anything that will throw them out of the moment like making the reading tedious.
I finally logged on and I'm procrastinating so hard rn and I wanted to say hi to my favorite transformers writer so yh
Hey, hun! Hopefully everything’s going good with you!
Give Up/Give In Pt 24
ES Megatron x Reader
• Heart hammering as he hooks a servo in the chain around your neck and the back of his hand brushes against your chest, his smile is rueful. “I have to warn you that I don’t give up what’s mine. I don’t share,” he growls and the way his voice dips reminds you that for how gentle he is, he’s still the conquering warlord. Not that you’ve ever really forgotten. Breath catching as your mind goes there, you shiver and his face brushes yours, mouth against the corner of yours. ‘I’m not scared of you.’
• “Maybe you should be,” he whispers and you smile, lips ghosting against his as your palms smooth against his chassis. Sometimes he scares himself. His appetites all consuming and you? He can’t wait for a real taste. Knows it’s never going to be enough. That it’s been too long since he’s felt like he’s had a purpose. That he was needed and not just an ugly reminder of the war that makes the Autobots he now fights beside uncomfortable. Your kind has no real love for him, either. Knows that.
• “You’re not a monster,” you counter and he smiles, venting to wash you in warm air. ‘Are you sure?’ He asks and your lips part. Asking for a kiss. For his touch. Don’t want to worry about this. Second guess if this is right or wrong. Or allowed. For the first time in your life, you’ve felt safe. Anchored instead of drifting in anxiety and uncertainty. Want to cling to that feeling. To the way his crooked smiles warm you, how his quick wit makes you laugh, the warmth of those big hands. “I’m sure,” you breathe out the word as his optics hood, you lean back slightly and his rumbling deepens as he follows you down.
• Arm still possessively hooked around you, he eases down onto his knees with you. Knows the berth is right there. That it’s what you deserve, but he’s half afraid if he lets go of you that you’ll come to your senses. Realize you don’t really want him. But you grip his chassis and hook a leg against him. Refusing to let him lay you down so he tugs you more firmly into his lap, letting the need spangling through your field drug him. Head lowering, your mouth opens under his. And you’re softer than mesh. Far too soft for hands like his, but he doesn’t want to worry that he’s ruining you. That he’s going to break you.
• Gasping into his mouth as one of his hands cups your butt and squeezes, you arch into him. Body heating when he rumbles out a hungry growl. Only dimly aware that you’re moving against him as your mouth slides against his. And his free hand cups the back of your head, servos in your hair as his growling roughens. Feeling his glossa tangle with your tongue, you’re overwhelmed with him. His scent, his taste, the feel of his big body against yours. He’d said he didn’t share, but neither do you. And he’s yours.
Again, yes I know different universe but the idea of D16 becoming similar to TFP Megatron is sad when you remember the reason why D16 hated Sentinel was also for selling himself out to eldritch aliens for powers....just like Megatron would do for Unicron as remember he wanted to WORK for Unciron before Unicron made clear he works for no one, and later one straight up possses Megatron as a vessel though ironically Megatron would come to realize how bad he had become.
What if Megatron was using that mass displacement device, and maybeeee reader was infected by another aphrodisiac. But reader was begging for him to be bigger, so he gradual increases his size while inside them (obviously stopping when needed.) s i z e k i n k x 2 They’re both into it, and you cannot convince me otherwise /j 💚
I adore your writing so much. You’re the reason I finally decided to read MTMTE!!
ᝰ.ᐟ mtmte megatron x human fem reader 18+
-> warnings/tags: minors dni. aphrodisiacs, size difference, slight pain kink, a bit of degrading language, mirror sex, dirty talk, multiple rounds/orgasms, squirting. 6.5k words
ouuuughhhhhhh this has been sitting in my inbox just WAITING FOR ME. i knew it was delicious the moment it came in, but i wanted to take my time (it’s like a reward). mmmmm rubbing my hands together like a fly, i love mtmte megs soooo big. i hope you enjoy this as much as i did writing it >:))
also, i'm so glad you read mtmte. it's SUCH a good comic, idgaf if it's considered glazed LOL
this can be read as a continuation of chapter 18 of across the divide or as a standalone fic!! it's 6k+ words of just pure filth fr
Tucked into your freshly washed sheets, you quietly wheeze little breaths through your nose as you're sleeping after tonight's activities.
The aphrodisiac lit a vicious fire that raged through you, demanding to be extinguished by Megatron, and by Megatron only. The two of you fucked for hours, and it was the purest form of debauchery you've ever known. You were so riddled with toxins that once they were clear from your system, you could hardly move.
Megatron, ever the attentive partner, ensured that you were bathed and returned to clean sheets. Thank the Heavens, considering the two of you drenched your bed coverings with squirt, cum and transfluid. That wouldn't have been the most comfortable night's rest for you.
He's currently next to you on the berth, sitting up against the headboard and reading through his latest chapter of Crime and Punishment in complete silence, mindful to let you get the rest you need.
You murmur something quietly, but Megatron can't make it out. He peers over at you, but sees that you're still asleep.
Huffing an affectionate laugh, he leans down to pepper some light kisses on the top of your head, nowhere near strong enough to startle or wake you. He pulls in a vent to smell your hair, feeling comforted by it.
"I'm really starting to fall in love with you, Starlight," he says just below a whisper. Again, it doesn't even cause you to stir. You are well and truly out like a light. "One day, I'll say it to you. I promise."
You are everything he ever could have wanted and more, and no words can describe how grateful he is for that. How he, with all his transgressions, could be graced with such benevolence is beyond him. The powers that be work in mysterious ways.
He sits back up against the headboard, but shortly after, you start to shift. He watches as your eyes open slowly, and you search for him. He smiles down at you, surprised to see you awake so soon.
You hum at the back of your throat, hoisting yourself up from your sleeping position groggily. He doesn't say anything, not even as you clamber to swing one leg over him and sit on his lap.
He places his datapad down on the bedside table before resting both servos on your hips.
"Awake already?" He asks.
"Kept dreaming about you," you reply quietly before moving in to kiss him. He returns the kiss, moving his derma softly over yours.
"Happy dreams?" He questions.
"Horny dreams," you answer almost immediately, pairing it with a roll of your hips over his interface panel. "Dreams about you eating me out, sucking on my tits, fucking me silly."
He hums, squeezing your hips to help move you back and forth over his lap.
"You're getting me all worked up again," he says against your lips.
"Good," you hush back, "I think the aphrodisiac is still in my system."
"Oh?" He chuckles, "Is it now?"
"Mmhm," you vocalise, stealing more kisses from him as you grind your hips, searching for friction. "Might need you to carry on fucking it out of me."
"You realise you were on the brink of exhaustion not even three hours ago? You remember how I had to carry you to and from the bath?" He asks before running his glossa lightly over your bottom lip.
"I remember you making me scream until my throat was sore, and I remember squirting all over the bed, and how you fucked me like a beast. Do you want me to carry on?"
"You're the horniest person I've ever known," Megatron replies, gripping your hips to move you faster against him. You're not opposed to a little bit of making out and dry humping to get the emotions running high.
"Is that a complaint?"
"Most definitely not."
When he was the leader of the Decepticons, he rarely had the time to indulge himself like this. The amount of time he remained celibate must have been centuries. He was always too dedicated to his goals and aspirations, about making dreams a reality. But now he has you, which he'd describe as his greatest dream, you make it too easy to be a lustful being.
"So come and fuck me again, Megatron. Come and show me who I belong to," you request ardently.
"You know full well who you belong to," he rumbles, his voice tantalisingly low. "When you're walking around tomorrow, if you even can, you'll know. Your poor pussy will be so used you'll feel me for days."
"God, Megatron," you curse, feeling your slick grow between your legs. He certainly has a way with words. "That's exactly what I want."
"I have an idea," he says, tapping your ass to get you to sit up. You abide, interested in whatever idea he has. He hoists you off him, leaving you a little flushed at the show of his strength. It still gets you every time.
He swings his legs off the berth, standing up before taking a few strides over to your full-length mirror. Your eyes flash with excitement, understanding a bit better now what he has planned.
Dragging the mirror over, he positions it at the side of the bed. You catch your reflection in it, gazing up at him to see that flirtatious smirk on his derma. He knows what he's doing to you.
"Strip," he orders lightly, curling his digits around the top of the mirror. He places more weight on one leg strut, resting for a moment so that he can enjoy the show.
You maintain eye contact with him, trailing your hands down to gather the hem of your top. He watches hungrily as you pull it up your torso, throwing it over your head and flinging it to your pillow. You don't lose contact with him, but you can just about see yourself in the mirror in your peripheral vision.
"Keep going," Megatron demands, deploying his spike as he watches you. Your thumbs hook under the waistband of your shorts, and Megatron follows your hands whilst he starts to jerk his length.
You shudder a breath, pushing your shorts down whilst wiggling out of them. The freshly cleaned sheets feel so soft against your bare skin, and it's a shame Megatron is going to have to change them again after this. Magnus will surely demand an answer for the increased usage of cleaning water.
Now naked, you reposition to your hands and knees before crawling across the width of the bed, still not breaking eye contact. You see what you want, it's thick and heavy in his servo.
"Let me suck it," you say in a low tone.
He pumps his length a little more, boring his bright red optics down at you with the very essence of temptation.
"Open wide," he whispers sultrily, and you heed his instruction. You loosen your jaw, giving him an easy opening.
He slides his spike straight in, venting hotly at the warmth. It's only been a few hours since you last sucked him off, but it's still a welcome gesture.
His spike hits the back of your throat, but you manage to quell any gagging. You hum around him, your jaw impossibly stretched to take his girth. You go down as far as you can before pulling your head back, proceeding with a bobbing motion.
Your fingers curl around the edge of your bed as you wet his spike with your saliva, already tasting an essence of his transfluid over your taste buds. It's dangerous how good he tastes, and how the fluid fizzles over your tongue like soda.
"Keep sucking it just like that, Starlight," he says as he tilts his helm, his optics dimming. His servo comes up to cup the back of your head, mussing your hair in the process. You moan at his touch, finding it only motivates you more.
You feel him slide down your throat with each suck. You'll have the shape of him memorised in no time. He's yours, for now and forever, so you have to make sure you treat him right and learn the way he likes to be serviced.
Megatron moans, using his other servo to reposition the mirror at a slight angle. He grins down at you before speaking.
"Take a look, see how full your mouth is," he tells you. You manage to look out of the corner of your eye to the mirror, seeing your reflection and how your mouth glides back and forth on his spike. You see how large his servo is at the back of your head, and that makes you more excited than you'd care to admit.
The reflection is downright sinful, one you never thought you'd see. He fits so perfectly in your mouth, it looks as though he belongs there. Flitting your eyes from the mirror up to his face, you see the smugness written over his features.
Your mouth pools with saliva, bubbles of spit already forming around his spike as he lets you fuck your mouth on him. He tightens his digits in your hair in search of a semblance of purchase, groaning lightly.
He watches his thick girth disappear in and out of your mouth, feeling your throat muscles tense and hug him each time he slips far enough in. Your wet mouth is a luxury that Megatron is convinced men would go to war for.
"Even when your mouth is wrapped around my spike, you're the most beautiful person I've ever seen," he compliments you, hypnotised by the way you move on him.
Your eyes are the same as earlier, clouded with need and arousal. It's dangerous when you look at him like that; it makes him want to pounce on you and have you all night long. It should not be underestimated how powerful your hold is over him, especially when you're playing with his spike.
He can't help but lightly buck his hips, feeding you more of his spike. You moan around him, making his circuits zap with charge. It's a full-frame experience that has his helm tipping back.
You look over to the mirror again, seeing a mixture of his fluid and your saliva running down your chin. It catches in the light as you move your head.
Hollowing out your cheeks, you suck him hard. The inside of your cheeks conforms around the panels that make up his spike, surely leaving a small indent.
"Primus, yes— Just like that. I'm so close," he whirs, clenching a fist through your roots. You keep going, refusing to let up. Having his transfluid is the greatest reward, and you're desperate for it.
With a hearty moan, he spills his load straight down your throat, forcing you to drink every drop. He fills you with more fluid than you know what to do with, some of it pooling into your cheeks from how forceful the overload is. You moan crudely, swallowing around him so you don't waste any of his offering.
Once you're set, you pull back off his spike, leaving a string of saliva connecting your lips to his spike. You can feel your lips throbbing and your tongue tingling, slowly getting addicted to the sensation.
Catching your breath, you look up at him under your lashes. You're far from done, and by the look on his face, he's the same.
He sidesteps, turning in front of the mirror before sitting on the edge of the bed. You get what he wants, so you make haste in delivering it to him.
You walk round to the front of him eagerly, turning in the same way he did so that your back is to him. His hands immediately find your hips, helping you to straddle him backwards. You settle against him like he's the other piece of the puzzle, your shapes aligning perfectly.
He manoeuvres you to get you to the tip of his spike. Shivers skitter up your spine as you let out a shaky breath, shifting your weight to sit properly on him. He doesn't protest, allowing your aching core to swallow him for a second time tonight.
You look down at the floor as you start bouncing, purposely evading the reflection before you. It glares right in your face, it calls you to look and admire the view like some insatiable temptress.
"Look at how beautiful you are when you ride me," he chirps into your ear, smoothing his servo down your body to reach your pussy. Hesitantly, you tear your gaze from the floor to the mirror. As you do so, his servo curls under, spreading your lips so you have a very graphic view of what it looks like when he's inside. Your breath catches in your lungs, watching how your hole stretches to accommodate him.
His other servo ghosts up to hold your jaw gently, forcing you to keep looking in the mirror.
"My pretty Starlight," he coos smoothly in your ear. His voice is like silk, it brushes along your body in a heavenly way. You whimper in response, creasing your brows into a pitiful frown.
"Say it," he goads, "Tell me that you're my pretty Starlight."
Resisting him would be pointless. He'd pry out of you either way, even if you might enjoy what he does to get there.
"I'm— your pretty Starlight," you echo his statement, still watching how your pussy swallows him whole.
"You're so good for me," he whispers against the shell of your ear, which is surprisingly sensitive. He chuckles at the way you shiver in reaction, and you'd hazard a guess that he knows what he's doing when he speaks in such a low tone.
His servo falls from your jaw, settling instead on your hip to give it a squeeze. You don't falter in your ride, taking needy strides over him like it's all you know how to do.
The two of you have been fucking like crazy since the first time. You can hardly keep your hands off each other, only ever pulled apart by Megatron's captain duties. Even then, he's thinking about you. Coming up with all the ways he's going to fuck you once he's off duty. You spend more time having sex in this bed than you do sleeping.
"Bigger," you whimper out just below your normal talking volume.
"Hmm?" Megatron voices, not able to catch what you said.
"I— I want you bigger," you say, rolling your hips over him like it's your lifeline. You settle back against him, embracing the warmth of his chassis. "Change the mass displacement settings."
"Oh, my love," he moans into your ear, "You know that isn't a sensible idea."
"Please, I need it. I wanna be your little fucktoy," you babble thoughtlessly. "I want you to use me and bounce me on your spike."
That is a tempting thought, and Megatron doesn't have the same stubborn resolve he once had. He finds the size difference sexier than he'd like to admit, and the idea of spearing your pussy with his large spike has his processor running wild.
"Okay, just a little bigger," he says lowly.
He brings his arms around your front, looking over your shoulder before using a digit to scroll along the display of the wrist-mounted mass displacement device. He adds about two feet onto his height, bringing him to about 8'5.
You whine as you feel him grow, both inside and beneath you. Your legs have to spread marginally wider to still fit over his lap. He brings his servos to your hips before giving a chaste kiss to the side of your neck.
"Is this okay?" He asks, slowly rolling your hips over him.
"B—Bigger, more, want more," you say desperately.
"Let's get you used to this size first, hm?" He suggests.
"Megatron," you whine, bouncing as best you can. You'll prove to him that you can take it. Your pussy works so well with him, slickening every glorious inch with your pleasure.
He brings his servo back around to your pussy, singling out his middle digit to start drawing little circles over your clit. You let out a fractured moan as you tip your head back, feeling infinitely more motivated to drain him dry.
"So eager," Megatron coos. He's melting from how good your cunt feels wrapped around him, squeezing him tight.
"Want your transfluid," you answer, tensing your pelvic floor to really suck him in. He groans as his spike gets a milky ring forming around the base. You're too tempting to resist.
You ride him like you were made for it. Like your entire life's purpose is to please him. You can't get enough of him, sex with him is the best you've ever had, and nothing else even comes close.
Your pleasure is imminent, you feel it stirring in your stomach. You chase it with sole intent, envisioning it in your mind's eye whilst you reach for it.
"Close— so close!" You say.
"Be good, cum for me, and look at yourself when you do so," he tells you, grabbing your jaw again to align your sight with your face.
You reach your climax as fireworks set off throughout your body. You moan, watching how your face floods with unquantifiable bliss. This is the face Megatron sees every time he gets you to your high.
"Fuck, Starlight!" He curses, unable to resist his own overload from how your pussy milks him. It's so gratifying to have him overload just because you did. He fills your womb with hot transfluid, his tanks finally replenished after you took every drop from him earlier.
"Please make yourself bigger!" You blurt, insistent on it.
If he were a stronger mech, he'd be able to deny you. But it gets something stirring deep within him, awakening a dormant coding that makes his resolve brittle. He wants this just as much as you do.
But if he gets any larger, he won't fit on the bed anymore. He vents, nodding his helm before kissing along your neck.
"We need to get on the floor," he tells you whilst pulling you off his spike. You whimper at the loss of him, but understand it's a necessary sacrifice to bring about greater pleasure. You step onto the floor, immediately feeling the gush of his transfluid spill down the inside of your thighs.
He stands from the bed before adjusting the mass displacement settings again, adding another two feet. He enlarges straight away, taking him to a staggering 11'5. You have to stifle your gasp as he looms over you.
Next, he moves the mirror aside and lowers himself to lie flat on the floor. He taps your leg, urging you to come over. You step over him, one foot on either side of his hip armour. It's actually a little intimidating to straddle him with the now very evident size difference, but the lust that plagues you corrupts any logic or reason.
"Come, Starlight, take it easy," he says, extending his servo up to you. You take it, bringing your body down to press him against the arch between your legs. You can't fully bring yourself to your knees yet, so his stable servo is a saving grace.
"I've got you," he says, using his other servo to hold your waist. The tip of his spike engulfs so much of the apex of your thighs. But you wanted this, begged for it relentlessly. No use in backing down now, right? You're up for the challenge.
His servo slips from your hand, grasping on the opposite side of your waist. He harnesses you, making sure you don't slip or hurt yourself. He allows you to go at your own pace, letting the moment unfold as it needs to. You lower a bit more weight, and you feel the head of his spike struggle to fit in your hole, but sense that it is going in.
Oh God, the stretch is unreal. You're holding your breath as you focus on taking as much as you can, holding onto his wrists to help calm your shaking hands.
"Look at you taking it so well," Megatron praises, watching you sink down gradually on his spike. He didn't think you'd actually be able to take it, but here you are, exceeding expectations again. "It helps that you're dripping wet."
"Because of you," you moan out, rolling your eyes into the back of your head as you start to move. He holds you, making sure you don't slip any further down his spike than you can take.
He peers down at where the two of you connect. He is a monster against you, and the sight only turns him on more.
"It won't all go in," he says, being a voice of reason. You're about ¾ of the way down his length, leaving only the base free.
You let out a shaky sigh before nodding, content with how much you've managed. You suppose this is as good as it'll get.
"Will you help me move?" You ask, your breath a prisoner in your lungs.
"Of course," he hushes back to you.
He takes it easy at first, pulling you up and down at a snail's pace. He does most of the lifting, saving your thigh muscles. You whimper a sob as he pushes your cunt to its limit. You bite down on your lip, trying to stifle any further sounds so that he doesn't get cold feet and pull you off him.
Putting in some effort, you start bouncing along with his assistance. Your knees still aren't touching this ground, he's simply too large. Luckily, he's strong enough to help without breaking a sweat.
He claims every inch of you as his own, declaring dominion over your organic body. It's so incredibly hot to have him like this, you're utterly lost in a haze of lust. Your pussy leaks all over him, trying to keep up with how large he is.
"You're so tight like this," Megatron says through lightly gritted dentae.
"Loosen me up then," you answer.
"Oh, I will. Trust me, we're no where near done," he tells you.
That's what you like to hear. You won't be surprised if you're up for the rest of the night fucking like bunnies until your head is spinning. How lucky you are to be blessed with a partner who has so much stamina.
If he'd known a heaven like this was waiting for him, he would've ended the war aeons ago. Nothing comes close to how your pussy feels, he's never known satisfaction like it.
He's starving for you, moving you quickly and roughly so that he can constantly feel you surrounding him. To your delight, he actually moans for you, deep and chesty. You respond with a moan of your own.
You're not being shy with your volume, moaning as though shame is completely lost on you. It strokes Megatron's ego in a special kind of way. He hopes everyone can hear it. He hopes that everyone knows that you belong to him, and that he's the one who brings you otherworldly pleasure.
His spike drags against your walls perfectly, stimulating every bit of you. You've never been so full, but you can't get enough. He's yours, and you'll prove that you can take him at any size. The two of you were meant for each other.
Your walls throb around him as you have sex at a dizzying pace. His optics are shuttering with faded light as you make him pliable beneath you. His servos are still dragging you up and down his spike, running after his own pleasure.
"Megatron! Fuck!" You cry out, your orgasm spraying from your pussy. He continues pulling you up and down on his spike, causing you to spurt like crazy.
"Primus have mercy," he moans as he watches you soak him. "You're like a fountain."
Your first time squirting was earlier tonight, during your first session, but he's still amazed at how much just came out of you. At least this will only require a quick mop of the floor rather than hassling with the bed sheets.
"More," you mewl as your pussy flutters around him.
"New position?" He asks, holding you steady.
You nod emphatically, your glassy eyes hold an expression he finds hard to deny.
He pulls you off his spike, causing you to gasp. He handles you with shocking ease, gathering himself to his knees whilst spinning you around. He sets you on the berth by your feet, pulling down on your waist to prompt you to get on your knees as well.
As soon as you do, he places a warm servo that spans nearly the entire width of your back along your spine, pressing forward to get you down into a new position.
He leans over you, planting his servos on the berth. You're face down, ass up. Ready to take everything he's got.
Like this, he practically houses you. You're completely engulfed in him and his shadow, and that somehow only makes you more excited. Getting to fuck him when he's so much bigger than you is such a treat.
Sheathing his spike back inside, it goes easier than the first time. Your eyelids bat rapidly at the feeling of being stretched again, and you realise in this moment that there's nowhere in the universe that you'd rather be.
Your pussy quivers as he starts up again, thrusting his solid hips carefully to make sure he doesn't push more in than you can take. You moan, feeling his fat spike right against your G-spot.
He grunts, finding it hard to hold back. He has to be extra careful with you, but Primus, he wants nothing more than to wreck your little hole.
"I want it all," you whimper, grinding your hips back. "Put it all in, Megatron. Please."
It seems you read his mind. He groans weakly, dropping his helm to peer down at you. You've got tears streaming down your flushed cheeks, your brows furrowed, but something beyond horny fogging your eyes.
"I can't get it all in, Starlight. I'm too big," he tries to reason, but you can hear the edge in his voice that tells you his resolve is weakening.
"You can! It will fit! Please, pleasepleaseplease, I want you to fuck me until I faint!" You beg.
"So demanding today, my love," he chides playfully.
Relenting, he gives you what you want. On his next thrust, he eases a bit more of himself in. Then a bit more on the thrust after that, and a little more, until you feel the familiar press of his metal armour against your ass. You've never been so glad to feel him against you once again.
"You actually took it all," Megatron says with awe, stunned with surprise. "You are such a resilient little thing."
He's enjoying the experience of learning your tells, understanding how far you can be pushed and what your body can handle. Your pussy feels insane like this, and Megatron fears he won't last long under these conditions.
You let out a throaty, sweet moan as he stretches you beyond belief. You can feel him in your lungs, causing a ball of air to form in your throat. You've never been so full, you can feel him everywhere.
"Holy fuck," you worble. You've met your match, you definitely couldn't take any more than this. There isn't a millimetre of room left inside you.
"You doing okay, Little Light?" He asks, slowing his movements to get you used to the entire size of him.
"Fff—mph," you struggle to take a proper breath. "Fuck me," you finish, the words strained.
"How could I refuse?" Megatron burrs, pulling his hips back to slam them into your ass. You let out a startled cry, realising you're maybe a tad out of your element here. He's huge.
You struggle to believe that he's considered old by his Cybertronian peers. The way he blows your back out attests to the fact that he's anything but old. In some ways, he's even hornier than you are.
You outstretch your hand, wrapping your fingers around his thumb to ground yourself. He angles his thumb out a little further towards you to make it easier on you. You feel the sanity being fucked right out of you, every critical thought you had is nothing more than static in your mind now. He's not being as fast as he usually would be, clearly cautious of your enormous size difference, but it's no less wonderful.
Fantasising about this doesn't even come close to the real thing. Of course, you've dreamt about what it'd be like for him to take you at a bigger size. That comes with the territory of dating a 36-foot-tall transforming tank. But actually getting down to it? You could get used to this.
"Starlight," he moans airily, "You feel so good."
"Degrade me," you say in the heat of the moment, not thinking straight.
He looks down again, slightly confused by your request. You want him to… Degrade you? Why? Would you not rather hear praise? You're so deserving of it, after all.
"Please, Megatron!"
Being the mech he is now, he isn't one to degrade you. Sure, maybe his old self, but a lot has changed since then. You've made him soft and tender. But if it's what you want, he'll gratify you.
"You're my little slut," he says, watching how your mouth drops open in a hearty moan. You try to fuck yourself on his spike, but his size makes it a challenge.
"My little spikesleeve, my perfect hole to fuck. What do they call it? A cumdump? That's what you are."
Wow. That's more than you expected. He's a natural.
"Did you just get wetter from that?" Megatron chuckles cockily. You're filthy, he thinks to himself. And he loves every bit of it. You whine as you let him fuck every rational thought you have right out of your brain.
You're sopping wet, so much so that if Megatron isn't precise with his movements, he's going to lose traction. Squelch, squelch, squelch, as he fucks his own transfluid out of you and gets you lubricating more in the process. The mix of fluids drips down from your pussy and over the berth, some of it running down to your belly button before dropping off.
"Mmm," you whine, "Master!"
His hips falter, stuttering for a moment. It's been a long while since anyone called him Master. His thrusts stop, but you hardly notice. You're grinding your pussy back against him like you don't have a thought in the world. His optics are wide as he gazes down at you, realising that you haven't even registered what you said.
One servo leaves the berth, wrapping around your waist for some physical contact aside from his spike. He wants to check that you're still conscious and aware of what's going on, and it's a relief to feel your breath under his touch.
You manage to battle through the haze, rolling your head to look up at him with half-closed eyelids.
"Why'd you stop?" You ask, your tone whiny and needy.
"You called me 'Master'," he answers softly.
"Sorry," you mewl, pushing your hips back against him. In a clearer state of mind, you would've known better.
"No, don't say sorry. Just say it again," he replies huskily.
"Master, please, I need you," you say with pure pity woven into every word.
The next thrust he gives is so strong and powerful that it causes your body to jolt harshly forward, tearing a scream from you. Oh, you get it. You've wanted to be bedded by the warlord he once was and were never sure how to ask for it, but this might be the way to get it.
"Master! Fuck me! Ruin me!" You chant like it's gospel.
He jackhammers his heavy spike in and out of your plush walls, demanding the space inside of you. It's unreal. You knew dating a mech would be far from what you're used to, but he takes it to a whole new level.
"I'm cumming," you whine, grinding your hips back against him. He groans as his optics flicker, losing his train of thought as your pussy milks him. The pleasure that swarms you is unbelievably satisfying, manifesting so well that a forceful stream of cum sprays from your pussy to splatter on the berth below.
"You always squirt so much when you're turned on," Megatron moans, revelling in the sound of your orgasm decorating the berth.
"Make me squirt again," you desperately plead. How are you still going? You were fucking until exhaustion earlier, but somehow, your energy is revitalised.
He vents, pausing his thrusts for a moment to shift positions. He slips his spike out of you, earning a saddened mewl at the immediate emptiness. He brings himself upright on his knees, clutching your waist with his huge servos before flipping you round onto your back.
He gathers both of your calves in one servo before pushing them up so that your knees are closer to your chest.
God, why is that such a turn-on? That's your legs fit in one servo, and he's bending your body however he wants it? Like you're some sex doll curated for his pleasure?
Anyway—
Leaning forward once again, he braces against the berth before slipping back inside of you.
You moan out shamelessly, folded in half and stuffed full of spike. The flurry of noises you make is perpetual, high-pitched and needy. The heels of your feet are placed against the swirling decor on his chassis, and fuck, this really puts into perspective how big he is.
"Deep— you're so— deep!" You choke on every syllable.
You ghost your hand down your body, settling it over your abdomen. Like this, you can feel him. Another moan bends in your throat, somehow getting even hornier. He's so big, you're not sure you're going to stay conscious.
Plaplaplap, non-stop. Over double your size with a spike to match, fucking you like you're nothing more than a fleshlight. Your wet pussy is making the most obscene, salacious noises as he hammers away at you.
"Your little pussy is so perfect," Megatron moans. "Tell me, who does it belong to?"
"You!" You blurt without hesitation, "Fuck. It belongs to you. I belong to you. Everything is all yours, Megatron!"
"That's my good Little Light," Megatron praises, sensing his next overload boiling in his tanks. You always take it all, you let him fill you up with every drop, time and time again.
You love it when he gets a little rougher with you, when he unleashes a fraction of the mech he used to be. His dirty talk is unmatched, and you know it comes from a time when he was bolder and more forward. He'd never talk to you like this outside of the berth, but when he's got every inch stuffed inside, he lets loose.
Your body is limp as he fucks you, your tits are bouncing, and your brain is melting right out of your ears. You'll be covered in bruises by the morning, but you won't hear a single complaint.
The metal slapping against the back of your thighs and ass feels similar to being spanked, which only adds to this whole thing.
There's something unbelievably comforting about having his weight on top of you, leaving you swarmed in his metal frame.
He bullies his thick spike meticulously through your tight walls, thrusting strongly to keep him deep inside. He's not being as gentle as he could be, which you're grateful for. A sheen of sweat clings to your body that makes you stick to the floor below.
He grunts as his next few thrusts are slower and harder. It doesn't take long for him to reach his next overload, filling you up nicely to top up what's been fucked out of you. You whine, bucking your hips up to plead for more.
Starting up again, he resumes his previous pace. He ruts into you like he needs it to live. You feel his transfluid start to pool out of you, running down the valley of your ass to puddle on the floor.
Being fucked against metal by a metal man is not the most comfortable of experiences, but you're too worked up to care. He's your metal man, and you'll never take it for granted.
"My beautiful little sex pet," he burrs. "So tight and warm."
"Don't stop, Megatron! Don't stop!"
"You were made for me, weren't you? Whoever designed you knew that you'd be a perfect thing to scream and cry on the end of my spike."
"Yes, yes!" You chant, "Yours. All yours! Perfect for you!"
"You better squirt for me," he says.
"Nearly! I'm nearly there!"
"Squirt, cover me in your orgasm."
As though he compelled your peak to come forward, a cry tears from you as you spray him once again. It covers his hip plates, some of it dripping down on the back of your thighs.
Your body shakes with the force of your orgasm flooding through you, your breath hitching as you try to control yourself. Your vision blurs as your head starts to spin.
The lightheadedness is starting to get to you. You're whining non-stop, but your eyelids are starting to flutter. You don't know how much more you've got left in you.
"Meh—uh. Mmmph," you spill breathlessly.
He looks down at you again, noticing how your eyelids are flickering, and your eyes are in the back of your head. This time, he can tell it's not the strictly pleasurable kind of lightheadedness.
"Little Light," he gasps, stopping immediately. He cranes himself further up a little so he can place a huge servo against the side of your head.
Slowly, he pulls his spike out of you.
Floods of transfluid immediately gloop and pour from you like a waterfall. He grabs your ankles again, lowering your feet back onto the floor before hoisting himself off you.
"Are you okay?" He asks, clearly concerned.
"This is the best night I've ever had," you reply breathlessly.
"You reckon it's all gone from your system now?" He asks, brushing tender digits affectionately over your features. You huff with a short smile, nodding in return.
"Let me get you cleaned up and back in bed," he suggests.
⋄✧⋄
Megatron has one arm strut wrapped around you as you sleep. He's been humanproofed, as you like to call it, many pillows lined against his chassis. One of your legs is slotted between his and one arm drapes across his front. You're fully lost to the realm of dreaming, and Megatron is memorising the way your short breaths puff from you. It sounds like you're getting a much-needed recharge, and Megatron is utterly besotted with how peaceful your aura is.
'I dread to ask, but how are they faring? The hallway is finally quiet, so I thought it'd be a good time to check in.'
Your lover hears the familiar ping of his co-captain over the internal comms link. He vents briefly before peering down at you, rubbing his thumb over your back.
The former warlord did not realise that you were loud enough to cause a disturbance in the entire hallway. But, he can't say he's mad about that. Maybe a bit prideful, in fact.
I not sure if u noticed but I've been less active (I haven't entered this app once) since I sent u the last ask about how I had a sh*tty week.
And since then I feel like I have gone down a spiral if pitention depression to the point where even my mum noticed 🙃
I have a lot to catch up on ur page and a couple of others lolll (๑•﹏•)
SO I kindly ask for a some Megs comfort since I'm sure we both need it
And
(I luv this pic I made)
I’d noticed you’d been quiet, but I hope things are going better for you, hun
Two last sticker variants for LA since I’m redoing my badge- these won’t be in the bags since they’re a tiny bit risqué, so just ask for a “heart sticker” if you see me and want one. They’ll eventually go up in the shop, too. 🔞 mass displaced mech 🌶️
Clingy
Megatron x Reader
• Startling awake when the arm draped across you tightens, you’re dragged back into his heated frame. And while having a living, alien space heater for a boyfriend is convenient most of the time since he likes it colder than you do, right now you need some air. “Too hot,” you groan, legs scissoring as you try to wiggle loose and the big, former warlord growls. Cuddling even closer.
• Hooking an arm more firmly around you, he nuzzles his face against your throat, venting to pull your scent deep. Not at all motivated to leave his berth or you. Especially since he knows Rodimus and his particular brand of nonsense is waiting for him. “Megatron,” you whine and his lips twitch into a small smile. Hand finding yours, his servos grip your hand and your fingers interlace with his.
• “Another breem,” he mutters, shifting to rest his chin on your shoulder, cheek brushing yours. Have no idea what a breem is, but you’re guessing he’s not budging any time soon. Yawning, you stretch and his rumbling shifts to a purring. Feeling big servos rubbing at your fingers, you inhale slowly. Smelling the familiar, metallic, musk of him. “Careful, little one,” he growls in warning when you wiggle slightly, scooting back against him.
• Clearing his vents as your amusement sinks into him through your field, he has to fight the urge to nip at you. “What am I doing?” You whisper and your scent shifts. ‘You know exactly what you’re doing,’ he murmurs, an optic opening. No longer interested in recharging as he presses his face against your neck and vents deeply. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you protest, your voice laced with barely hidden laughter. Shifting a knee onto the other side of you to straddle your hips, your head turns to look up at him.
• Laughing when he flips you onto your belly and goes down on an elbow over you, his lips brush against the back of your shoulder, his denta grazing skin. And his growling deepens to make you shiver, heat and need twisting through you. Gasping when he slides a hand under your body, you squirm as his servos find and stroke you. “I thought you wanted to sleep?” You moan, feet sliding in the blankets, unable to move how you want against his hand with him pinning you.
Retaliation: Illogical. Defeat: Inevitable. Tell me. Where is Megatron?!
He fled like the coward he is!
Response: Untrue. Conversation: Pointless.
On that we can agree
OPTIMUS PRIME & SOUNDWAVE
IN TRANSFORMERS (2023) #25
I want to make something abundantly clear for this blog:
FUCK ICE
They are kidnapping, torturing, and murdering my neighbors. They have torn apart families and disappeared friends. They are untrained, uneducated, inhumane meatheads that get their kicks from beating, raping, and killing innocent people. I won't tolerate any braindead conservative or simpering liberal on my blog denying or minimizing or "both sides"ing the issue. ICE is America's Gestapo, and it is terrorizing our people.
