this is PURELY an x reader blog, I will not write ships! NO BREEDING KINKS! And once more don’t use my work for Ai! I will delete everything if I find out.
I am burnt out on writing Ingo and Emmet, please don't request them at this time QwQ
this blog contains dark content!
I have a chronic wrist injury, so my writing might be slow.
If you wish block the ‘chatting’ tags or for adult stuff block the ‘smut’ ‘spicy’ and ‘🔞🔞🔞’ tags. Anything I write with these tags are placed under keep reading.
Rules!
ALL CHARACTERS MUST BE 18+
NSFW, sfw, yandere, darker themes, etc are all welcomed!
Please keep it to 3 characters at most.
Reader will be GN! No matter is amab or afab.
I write for women characters, and any lgbtq request you might have. This is an lgbtqia+ safe space!
I will absolutely NOT have any of the following :
Scat or piss kinks. No foot fetishes, arm pit kinks. Vore. Heavy bdsm. Cheating, NSFW with children. Pregnancy/birthing kinks, breeding, Pokephilia/zoophilia, Incest, Canon x canon,or canon x oc, one night stands, FwB. Song based fics
Any racist or anti-lgbt content will NOT be tolerated.
Fandoms I write for:
Pokémon! (Main game titles+legends Arceus) MASTERLIST 1 2, 3 4
Legend of Zelda (villains included. I’ve played all main titles, I got you.)
Devil may cry
Castlevania (please specify anime or games, I got both.)
Stardew valley
Genshin impact
Transformers! (Animated, BEAST WARS! Rescue bots! prime, G1. Armada! Please specify if you want human or cybertronian reader.) AUTOBOT masterlist! and DECEPTICON masterlist!
Wuthering waves!
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Anon list!👾
My kofi! https://ko-fi.com/smallestapplin/commissions
(I dunno if you remember me but i sent a jettwins blurb a while back...school shot me dead in the back of an alley but i live!!!)
Less of a req and more of a thingy i thought of after tfa brainrot took over but—
Walk with me….Imagine the twins watching a good ol' fluffy romcom with their s/o. There's a scene where a character is peppering the other with kisses, leaving red kiss marks allll over the other’s face….
Idk i think it would be silly and sweet for their s/o to have to explain that—no, humans don’t produce the lipstick marks on their own…only for them to ask if they could do that to their s/o since it’s not something only humans can do 😛
They make my sick i 🫶 them
YYEEESSSS!!!!! OH MY GOD YES!!!
You have to go out of your way to buy lipstick and show them, with Jetfire being the first to get it and now he’s hogging you and your lipstick coated kisses for himself. And poor Jetstorm has to wrestle you away from how brother so he can get some kisses for himself.
Turning it into a vicious game of keep away, trying to keep you for himself.
I’m sure you can get them both to settle down so you can take turns covering them both in your smooches, but by then they are laying their helms closer to you with the dopiest grins on their faces and giggling occasionally.
So happy to get their dose of affection.
Sentinal may have to yell at them to get them to wipe off the lipstick marks you left, and they are very sad about it.
My first born child for anything with Bayverse Hound 🛐 He's so chunky and sarcastic and funny and GLORIOUS 💚 Big man with weapon arsenal make my synapses fire
I’m so sorry but I don’t write for the bayverse or any of the live action movies QwQ
I’ve only watched the first two and have a less than favorable opinion of them. Some of the designs are cool though!
Usually I put the continuities I write for in my pinned post to make it easier to find and see, but I feel like I need to clean it up a bit, it’s a mess 😅
I think it’s incredibly under utilized that seekers (or any mech with doorwings or wings in general) have sensitive wings.
This is entirely my wing play kink showing, but it’s been shown at least in some shows that their wings are delicate, meaning clusters of sensitive wires are there, and can be used to inflect pain as they are made of thinner metal and can ground fliers making them weaker.
But also meaning imagine walking up behind Astrotrain and gently gliding your servo across his wing and watching him jump out of his metal, all flustered and huffy like his spike didn’t slam into his modesty panel.
Or Starscream being in a mood, yet so easy to bring him down as you start dragging your digits down his wing to the base, massaging them until he’s creaming behind his modesty panel.
On the flip side, while Prowl doesn’t show much behind his resting bitch face, it’s noticeable to you as he’s leaning into your touch so lightly, like he doesn’t want to give away his enjoyment.
While Bluestreak is GONE, you touch his doorwings he’s already putty in your servos and transfluid leaking down his legs.
This is entirely based on @rabotimagines heat fic but with decepticons, this can be read alone but highly recommend you read his stuff! I'd also like to thank my best friend @savvymantis for beta reading for me! and one last tag as requested @therobotsarestuckinmyhead :3
warnings : heat, dubcon, stomach bulge, several partners, foursome, double penetration one hole, squirting, biting, overstimulation, Cybertronian reader, reader is an elite.
MDNI
Characters : Megatron, Skywarp, Starscream, Thundercracker, Astrotrain, Blitzwing, and the constructicons.
word count : 8,714!
18+ only!
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How pitiful, such a big, strong decepticon elite like yourself taken out by your outdated heat protocols being activated, such obsolete coding making you nothing but spike hungry shareware, and in the heat of battle no less! That poor autobot leader was trying so hard to tend to you, to protect you from your own when all you wanted so badly was to be fragged, you were even whimpering for him!
That’s why you’re under the table now to ‘make up for it’, as Megatron said. A meeting, it was needed to discuss future plans of attack and what to do about you. But how can anyone focus on what their leader is saying when all they can hear is you choking yourself on Megatron’s spike? Every word their leader says is nearly drowned out entirely by your need. Never had they heard you sound so downright sinful, muffled whines and messy slurping sounds all anyone in the room can focus on.
“Further more it seems our plan backfired in more ways than one.” Megatron drones on, seemingly not at all affected by your greedy sucking, “Who knew such obsolete code existed within our ranks?” He laughs, placing a servo to the back of your helm and not even needing to shove you further down his spike; you do it all yourself, moaning so sweetly around him as you take it to the base.
Your optics flutter, threatening to close as your frame trembles. Your leader loves how sensitive you are, how your lust filled processor melts just tasting his pre-fluid, from being used so openly.
“How pitiful you are, and making such a mess too.” The silver mech sighs, feigning annoyance as the puddle of transfluid grows under your squirming hips.
Your leader places a pede to your spike, gritting his denta to stop himself from moaning out as you cry out around him. Your hips lurch forward, humping his pede like a needy cyberhound. Optics squeezing shut, you’re overwhelmed, but it’s not enough! Your spike throbs, your charge crackling within your frame, spraying your transfluid across your stomach and leaking onto the floor. Megatron is quite pleased with your whorish expression, to see your dermas stretch around his thick spike, pretty optics shining so bright and glossy. He didn’t even need to guide you to taking him deep. His bright optics tear away from you, back to his worthless crew to continue speaking.
Yet none of them listening, dozens of optics keep dropping as if they could see under the table. All only able to hear the wet sloppy sounds of you sucking Megatron off like you needed it to live. The mechs unable to move knowing they’d earn their leader’s ire, but the more they hear the more they shake, wanting a piece of you, just a taste is all they ask.
The decepitcon leader knows this all too well.
His grin dangerous, his spike throbbing before he shoves your helm down keeping you there to swallow his transfluid. Your optics cross as your own overload strikes your frame yet again, making a bigger mess below you and across your stomach mesh. So sensitive and responsive thanks to your outdated coding, but oh how Megatron loves it.
Megatron smirks at your cumdrunk form, only to hiss through clenched denta as you keep sucking, wanting more, needing more.
“Such shareware you are.” Despite his words the servo on your helm pets you gently, making you pull off his depressurizing spike to nuzzle into his palm, “Seems this meeting will go nowhere, not with you being such a distraction.” Oh, but how could he be mad at you when you look up at him like that? Perfect spike warmer you are.
Megatron moves his seat back, grabbing you by the underarms and lightly tossing you on top of the table, giving every filthy mech there the long awaited sight of you. Your stomach is covered in your own transfluid, your face plate flushed a deep blue, with your optics bright and dazed.
Yet Megatron walks away with a scoff, “And someone clean the mess they left under the table, I have work to continue.” Leaving you to the wolves.
You whimper, laying back flat against the cold table searching for any form of relief but it came faster than you thought. The room is in chaos with mechs stumbling over themselves and each other, metal being thrown around as everyone lunges for you, only to be beaten by Skywarp using his outlier to reach you first. He takes you to the door the same way, with Thundercracker and Starscream right behind him guarding as the three rush you to the nearest room to shove you in.
The door locks and your world spins. Your back strut hits a desk, helm over the side, but all your muddled processor can focus on is someone spreading your pedes wide open, putting your dripping spike and leaking valve on display.
“Move aside!”
“Don’t be so rough with them-“
“Shut up and move!”
Three voices chime, all you’re able to hear is metal clashing as the trio shove their way into the places they want. Blue becomes clear to your optics, staring at an almost worried Thundercracker, but not worried enough to keep his modesty panel closed. The spike in front of your face was decently thick, a little on the short side, but so pretty-
Your intake drops with a short squeal when someone drops their hot and wet valve on your own needy spike. Before you can even process the snug clench, your valve is stretched open on another spike, curved and hitting your ceiling nodes with ease. Cruel laughter echoes, but you can barely hear it over the engeron rushing through your audials.
"Haha, look at them, such a pretty thing ready to ruin!" Skywarp cackles, wasting no time to dropping himself onto your spike, rolling his hips to grind his node in your pelvis before picking himself up and letting gravity do most of the work.
Your servos flail, desperate for something or someone to grab, something to ground your fading mind with. Your back strut arches with your loud cry, your hips furiously trying to fuck yourself against Skywarp and Starscream. Your overload gushes both within the purple seeker and over the pelvis of your dear sky commander in your transfluid.
Skywarp trembles feeling your cum pour into his valve, "Overloading already? The party just gettin' started!"
"Perhaps these outdated codes are a blessing; look at how ready they are." Starscream sighs, to keep his servos on your knees keeping them from closing. Though it's not lost on him that you're trying to wrap your legs around his waist to have him close.
"Valve so needy, perfect shareware for us." The sky commander purrs.
Warm and welcoming, perfect to use and fill. All of Starscream’s mounting frustrations with you are taken out of your greedy cunt. His hips snap to yours swiftly, harshly smacking against your aft. Every thrust sends your hips upward, unintentionally aiding Skywarp to his own release. The force makes your hips meet his every time he drops down on your spike, pushing the tip of your cock to his sensitive ceiling nodes. The sloppy wet sounds echo in the relatively small room, yet none of that matters, not when you’re making such slutty sounds.
"Don't you think you two are being a bit harsh on 'em? I mean, they are already mindless." Thundercracker tries to defend you, no matter how hot you look sticking your glossa out, trying to beckon him closer. Oh who is the blue seeker fooling; you have him wrapped around your digit. All those fleeting touches and brushes of your EM field had him a mess for you. Even now the blue seeker strokes the base of his spike in front of you, practically taunting you as he stays just out of reach, and only allows you to see the transfluid bubbling from his bulbous tip. The heady scent flooding your nasal passage, as if you weren’t drooling enough, he’s so mean when you need his spike most!
"Puh…please..!" You try to speak, watery optics blearily look to Thundercracker, yearning, needing him to fill your intake. It’s so empty, too empty, you need him, need his cum. Your processor gives out half way through trying to plead.
“Shuddup would ya?” The purple seeker grabs your cheeks squishing them between his digits, “Just frag ‘em already! Look, they are practically begging to get fragged and stuffed.” Skywarp used his outlier to ensure they had first dibs on you, he is not going to waste it arguing when no doubt the others would find them soon.
“Or don’t, let the fools beyond these walls hear how much they like being used.” Starscream purrs, lifting your pede over his shoulder. He kisses your calf so lovingly, just to sink his denta into the exposed mesh. His engine rumbles as a choked moan tears from his dermas feeling you clamp down around him.
“Mark me, mark me claim me- please please, need it—!!” Your back strut arches as a broken squeal tumbles from your drool covered dermas.
Skywarp’s valve flutters around your throbbing length as the con places his servos on your chassis, allowing him lean forward and fuck himself faster on your cock, using you like you were a dildo for him to use and get his pleasure from. Drool lands on your chassis as the mech above you bites his bottom derma, silencing the filthy sounds that wish to be freed in favor of hearing you.
The last of them finally can’t take it; Thundercracker moves in closely, attempting to take it easy unlike the other two who frag your frame like it’s their only chance they’ll do so. Taking a deep in-vent, he places his servos on the table under you, but you didn’t give him a chance as your own servos shoot forward. Your digits grip tightly to his thighs digging into his transformation seams to yank him forward. An embarrassing yelp of static falls from Thundercracker’s voice box as the wet heat of your mouth wrap around his spike with ease. Stretching you attempt to take him to the base in an attempt to choke yourself on him for a taste of his transfluid.
“Slaaag!” The blue seeker cries, voice crackling with static. His hips move as if they have a mind of their own, fucking your throat with reckless abandon. He’s horrible! He was trying to be better than the mechs to come, show you he can actually take care of you, maybe even prove to you his worth. But he can’t, you feel too good! Primus, you’re trying to suck him dry!
Thundercracker leans his helm down, red optics bright watching your throat bulge with every thrust of his hips. The sight leaves him whining, squeezing his optics shut tightly. He knows if he keeps watching he will overload too soon.
He’s sorry, sorry, so sorry, he can’t stop! If only you could hear what he wants to say, instead of hollowing your cheeks out to messily suck on his spike. Your optics roll back, muffled mewls barely able to vibrate in your pipe as you are held down and fragged like shareware. Never once are you left empty, filled or warmed by one of them and their vicious fucking. Your helm feels so heavy yet your frame crackles, EM field jumping everywhere in a wild need to feel someone, anyone.
Starscream slams his cock deep within you, his thrusts turning into quick, sloppy bucks of his hips. He barely pulling out of you, like he couldn’t stand to part with you. He finally gets to have you, finally gets to put your cocky self in your place, so why does he feel like it’s him that’s falling? Growling, the seeker sinks his sharp digits into your metal, threatening to puncture your armor. And yet you shriek around Thundercracker, your frame attempting to thrash as the pain and pleasure mix into an intoxicating brew within your fuel lines.
You aren’t sure if you can keep up! It’s so hot, too hot, your frame feels like it’s overheating! A warning flashes behind your optics. You can’t ex-vent out the hot air from your system, Thundercracker’s hips are moving too fast, slapping and blocking your vents from properly working.
Your helm feels like lead, the lack of cool air making your processor muddled. The three don’t stop, not until they have had their fill. With Starscream overloading first, his hips snapping against yours once, twice, before lingering, to make sure your valve takes his spent. He will taint you for anyone else, or so he hopes. The rush of hot translfuid in your empty cunt triggers your own release, your frame shaking, cumming inside Skywarp and around Starscream.
“Slag yes! Just like that-! Frag, ya know how to fill a mech up good.” Skywarp purrs, his own overload coating your torso in a pretty pink stain as well as your spike. He could get use to this, keep you locked away for their use only. Keep you as their pretty little mate those heat protocols tell you to be.
Thundercracker is the last to overload, pushing his hips one last time so the tip of his spike hits the back of your throat, coating your pipe in his cum, making sure you take every last drop. Swallowing around his cock, you whine, taking all he has. Pulling back, the blue seeker lifts your helm to see you better, hoping you were okay after such treatment. He swear under his breath as you open your intake wide and stick your glossa out, showing him you swallowed all he had given you like a good mech.
You really are trying to send him into the well early, aren’t you?
Yet can they really be done just yet, they still have so much cum to fuck into your needy holes. Surely you won’t mind if they unloaded it all into you; they are so backed up after all, and you’re just too good for them to pass up. The three don’t even glance at one another for they already know they are all thinking the same thing: to make you theirs, keep you for themselves to frag and love.
However the choice is made for them and against their will, when the door to the communications room is thrown wide open. A chair flying through the air, clocking Skywarp across the helm and flinging him off you. Thundercracker jumps back from you whilst Starscream sneers at the blasted triple changer barreling into the room and towering over him.
“Finally found you slaggin’ glitches!” The larger mech wastes no time speeding right to you, ready to put the egotistical flier in his place just so he could get a taste of you! Astrotrain hadn’t expected you to whine so loudly as he grabbed Starscream by the neck and pulled him away from you. Oh, how you are just so cute. Here you lay, an elite, his superior, and you look so fragged out mind, thighs twitching trying to close so you could move, seeking a spike to fill you again and again. Tossing the rather annoying seeker to the wall the triple changer grabs you instead, lifting you up and off the table and into his awaiting arms. Astrotrain moves swiftly, not at all risking losing you to anyone else, especially not those dense afts!
You just melt into him, nuzzling your helm into his neck cables your glossa licking across the thick cables, trying to find the perfect spot for your claiming bite. The cum stuffed inside you begins to leak down your inner thighs, reminding you of how achingly empty you are. Your hips buck forward trying to hump against the large triple changer. Even now you have no shame, just craving to be fragged and filled. Astrotrain grunts, feeling your denta sink into his neck. His Modesty panel retracts letting his all too big spike slip between your soaked thighs.
“Primus, look at you, all this over my spike? Ya really are something else.” Finding a suitable place can wait, right here in the hallway is fine; he can hardly wait any longer.
Your back strut meets the cold wall, burning hot frame trembling at the temperature difference, yet your optics stay right on the spike of the mech before you. Just looking at it makes you drool, the heat of it against your valve could make you overload. The triple changer laughs at your need. One servo grips under your aft, holding you up, using his large frame to keep you pinned between him and the wall. It allows his free servo to grip your face making you look at him.
“Astro…” You trail off with a whimper. Shaking your hips, you try to entice him, to make him mold your valve to the shape of him. Wet slit dragging across the length of his shaft, you try desperately to fuck yourself on him, to overload again and again until you black out.
“Frag, you’re so pathetic like this…” The large mech purrs, his wings fluttering behind him as he drools at the sight of you, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to plow you into the dirt, and I finally have you under me, beggin’ for me.” Astrotrain’s vent come out in sharp quick puffs, steam trailing above him as his frame tries to expel the heat to prevent his systems from overheating.
After all this time, he finally gets to make that valve his.
“Hm, I wonder how many marks I can leave across this slutty frame of yours.” The triple changer chuckles when you moan out at just the thought, “Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? To be marked,” the triple changer only pauses in his words to lick the drool sliding down your chin, “as all mine.” You squeeze you optics shut, frame trembling as you begin to squirm. “For the world to know just who makes you weak.
”All for him, only for him, yeah? Screw everyone else he finally has you!
“You can’t even wait, look at those hips.” Astrotrain laughs at your neediness. The servo under your aft moves. Your pedes hitting the ground with a heavy thud, almost limp. You toss your helm back with a loud cry, hips thrusting forward as the triple changer shoves two digits into your sloppy valve. The wet squelch echoes in the hallway, ringing in your audials.
“So loud and I ain’t hardly done a thing. Those seekers can’t treat you like I can; this valve needs a real mech, yeah?” Digits assault your ceiling nodes with every pump of his wrist, the palm of his servo slapping your anterior node, grinding against the bright bud whilst he finger fucks the transfluid out of you to make room for his.
You can’t vent. Your frame warns of an possible shut down from being wound up so tightly. You’re unable to believe this is actually happening to you, you are finally getting a fat spike to scratch the itch of your heat protocol! Finally, something to fill you beyond measure. Your spike twitches against Astrotrain’s stomach mesh and your valve clenches on his digits, excited by the mere thought of having him empty his cum inside you!
“Please, please, pleaaase it’s - not enough—!!” Your words are rushed out as you try to beg, “Frag me- need you fragging me- mm! gah..! M’yours yours yours please-!” Begging with a roll of your hips, you need his spike now! Your digits sink into his shoulders, scratching at his paint, trying to quell the instinctive urge to lay a claim on him.
Primus save him, you just know how to push his buttons! His systems are overheating but he can’t find it in him to care. Slamming his dermas to yours in a harsh clink of your denta, his glossa pushes into your awaiting intake with no resistance. Sharp fangs dig into your bottom lip, nipping the soft metal, letting energon pool to the surface. Gasping at the sensation, you are given a brief second of cold air before your intake is stuffed with the triple changer’s glossa. Your optics roll back before closing shut, mewling into the impassioned kiss.
Strong digits squeeze the cables along your neck, keeping you upright lifting you up, just enough for the Triple changer to place himself between your pedes. Pressing closer to your heated frame. Coolant sticking to your frame, your audials ring with the deep grunts and groans that make your wires sing! Every squirm and wriggle of your hips makes it hard to keep a grip on you, despite your heat, your strength as an elite is barely diminished. If he wants you under him, he’s going to have to break you in before you get any ideas.
A whimper falls from your kissed bruised dermas. A thin strand of spit connects your glossas together, breaking when he moves too far away. You truly are a sight to behold: optics down-turned and pleading, frame shining with coolant, and the pre-fluid from your spike soaking not only his stomach mesh but yourself. Dazed, you try to drag him back, wanting more of his tongue down your throat.
The triple changer pulls his dripping digits from your sopping wet heat. Mockingly, he coos at the pitiful whine you let out.
“Wait…no, no don’t stop—!!” The words die on your glossa as pain shoots through your wires. You shriek with a wet smack accompanying your cry. Your valve is empty but your node pulsing from the swift smack Astrotrain gives your pussy.
Your back strut arches as you cling to the large mech, completely blind to your pre-fluid splattering across his lap. Astrotrain chuckles, taking your tender node in between his digits and pinching the sensitive bud, cooing as you squeal. Your hips jerking as the overload fries your processors. However, your squeal is cut short by digits covered in transfluid covered shoving into your open intake.
“Shut up and lick ‘em clean.” As hot as your filthy sounds were, he doesn’t need you attracting nobody else.
With glazed over, glossy optics, you do as told. Dermas wrapping around his drenched digits, you suck on them like it’s the spike now pressing to your valve mesh. Glossa dragging between his digits to get a taste of yourself and the transfluid Starscream left in you. Your frame trembles, hips twitching almost like you could overload from that alone. Grabbing one of your pedes just behind your knee, Astrotrain lifts your leg up and kicking your other to spread wider, in an attempt to fit between your pedes.
With your greedy hole on display for him, Astrotrain wastes no time pushing the bulbous head of his spike into it, biting down on his bottom lip at how you clench down on him already! You just have to make things difficult.
“D-Don’t clench like that… frag!” The triple changer breathes out, voice shaking at just how tight you are around him. He’s not even sure he can make it if you don’t relax! Astrotrain bucks up, pushing more and more of his spike into your tight wet heat. Even after being fucked you still have such a grip on him.
You bite down on the digits inside your intake, optics fluttering back as you struggle to not cry out. Slag, he’s so thick, and he isn’t even all the way inside you yet! Glossy optics bore into those deep vermilion ones, silently pleading with him to just fuck you already, and by Primus he is trying!
Squeezing your leg to get a better grip, Astrotrain pulls his hips back and swings them froward, impaling you further down his cock. Your back strut arches, quaking under his vicious push and pull. Astrotrain shoves more and more into you like he’s nothing more than a rut stricken beast mounting you.
Scrambling, you try to mumble something. It’s too hot, you’re losing your processor to his spike! A shock is sent down your spinal strut, hips shaking with vigor. Astrotrain swears under his breath, pulling his digits from your intake to place it on your other pede. He lifts you up off the ground and presses himself to the base, fucking himself in your creaming hole.
“S’in my tank!!” You wail, the tip of his spike kissing your forge tank with every thrust. Your helm spin, “S…sooo deep..!” Oral lubricant flows from your agape intake, your words slurred from the intensity every overload brings you.
The triple changer shoves his helm into your neck, glossa dragging across your cables as he frags you through your climax. You are nothing more than a weeping mess in his hold, drunken smile on your dermas as you finally get what you’ve wanted.
“Greedy glitch!” Astrotrain growls, as you keep fogging his processor. His pedes feel like they are going to give out. You feel so good around him, trying to drain him of his transfluid, but he wants to last here, damn it! His denta sink into your neck cables in an attempt to muffle his own sounds. You’re ruining him and you don’t even know it.
His spike curves, dragging across your ceiling nodes every time he pulls back. He’s so close to you that your own spike rubs against his stomach. It’s too much, too hot, too overwhelming as the pain bites at your wires, only to bleed into a burning high, pleasure unlike anything you’ve ever felt! Astrotrain really should keep you quiet, but you just sound so damn good, all loud and crying just for him.
His own greed is his downfall. You two didn’t even hear the pedesteps until they were so close they made Astrotrain stop. He buries himself deep within you to cover you, cling to you to glaring over his shoulder at whoever it was, but his thrusts slowed to a stop to glare at that smug grin of the other triple changer.
Before Blitzwing can even get a word out, you’re whining loudly, trying to wiggle your hips to get more of Astrotrain.
“Noo, don’t stop…need it…*frag.* Was so close! Please…” You plead, vents glowing orange from the heat building withing your systems.
You make it so hard to handle business. Astrotrain growls, trying to ignore your pretty begging and how you wrap your pedes around him trying to get him closer.
“You sack of scrap, ya can’t just take ‘em and run off without me!” Blitzwing shoves his way forward, trying to snatch you from his fellow triple changer, but Astrotrain isn’t having it as he curls around you as much as he physically can.
“You can head right on to the scrap heap! I ain’t gotta do a damn thing, now buzz off!” The mech over you snarls, dual engine rumbling with rage. Here is he trying to have a good time with his superior, and now this dense aft wants to ruin all the hard work that went into getting you under him!
Blitzwing’s smug grin twists into a scowl, getting more fed up by the second that his old pal doesn’t want to share you when clearly there is enough of you to go around. Especially with those sweet sounds you’re making, he knows you’d gladly take everyone on the Nemesis and still have so much more to give. If only Astrotrain would just accept that. As much as Blitzwing wants you for himself as well, he can’t ignore the fact that Megatron would have a first claim over you, and only give the others a taste of you after he’s had his fill.
Blitzwing grabs Astrotrain’s shoulder, tugging him back in an attempt to pry him off you. But the shuttle mech struggles to not budge; he can’t allow even a breath of cold air between you two for he knows the tank jet behind him will use that to steal you from him. You can’t take it, all you can feel is Astrotrain’s hot and heavy spike resting within you, barely moving just enough to tease you when you had been so close!
“Shut up, shut up, shut. Up!” You shout, pedes flailing and clocking Blitzwing in the chassis with your surprisingly quick movements, knocking his systems off for a brief second. “Frag me and don’t slagging stop until someone offlines!” You pant. It doesn’t matter what anyone has to say, if they aren’t breaking your valve into the sparkdamned well you don’t care.
Astrotrain groans, scoffing under his breath. If the large mech had the time to sulk he could, not that Blitzwing would allow him to have time, giving the fellow triple changer and rough pat on the back strut.
“You heard ‘em! We can’t deny such a request now, can we?” He laughs, swiftly moving beside you, slipping an arm behind your back strut. Astrotrain finally moves you away from the wall giving Blitzwing the space to slip in behind you, your spinal strut pressed against his chassis.
Astrotrain gives Blitzwing hold over your pedes, letting the other mech keep your legs wide open whilst he grabs ahold of your hips to angle you back. In your haze, you didn’t realize they wouldn’t be using your intake. The realization hits you as you hear Blitzwing’s modesty panel retract, allowing his lengthy and heavy spike to rub against your aft and leaving a hot smear of pre-fluid across your metal.
“Move their hips back, I can’t frag ‘em if ya keep hogging them for yourself.”
Oh lord, they are just going to keep arguing.
With an annoyed huff, Astrotrain moves your hips back, pulling himself back a little to try and give your second lover some space to actually move. Blitzwing moves his spike forward, finding your weeping slit, though an annoyed Astrotrain won't move from his spot. He presses up but slips, your valve not giving. He tries again with a muttered swear, until his voice box crackles as soon as his tip catches in your hole.
“Fraaag! Such a perfect valve. So tiiight-!” Blitzwing puffs out air through his vents, his warm breath fanning across your neck, “Relax, boss.”
"I am!" Your grip on Astrotrain’s shoulders tightens as you try to keep yourself grounded in anyway you can, despite it being far too late.
Your pulsing valve gives you away.
Your optics roll back, feeling the tip of Blitzwing's spike catching your fuck hole. Tears well up in your optics once more as you try to take both mechs; you don’t think your valve can handle it. You feel like you’re being split in half, but it feels so good! You cry out as the brute behind you bullies his spike into your already stuffed hole.
Your metal distending, denting outward from how full they made you. The spread and stretch of your valve is tight, the feeling them both spear you open like this, as wide as you could possibly go. Astrotrain, despite how desperate you two are, tries to remain steady, wanting to prove himself better than the bastard behind you. He knows they are pushing you to your limit, and it’s a thought that makes his engines rev.
Blitzwing can’t hold back; why should he when your frame is begging for him? He’s the first one to move to, swiftly pulling his hips back and ramming forward, he frags his spike right against the entrance of your forge, threatening to breach it.
“You slaggin’ cheat!” Astrotrain huffs, quick to not fall behind and let that sack of scrap frag you better than he can! His thicker spike slams against your ceilings nodes, he’s already drooling at just how fragged dumb you are already, as if he’s not close behind you.
By Primus, you are wet. Blitzwing finds himself biting his dermas so hard it’s bleeding. Each thrust feels like a swift punch, but it also feels like forever. By the time he bottoms out, he's panting, and trying not to sob into your neck.
"You're so tight! Frag..." Blitzwing swears, his groan bleeding into a whine.
"A perfect valve to be ruined and claimed." Astrotrain manages, as the fluttering of your valve leaves his helm spinning.
Both pull out till they were barely in, then slams back in with one rough thrust. You cry out at the sudden wave of pleasure as the head of their spikes slam into your forge tank.
"S'big! Haaa-!" You slur, throwing your helm back as they repeated the rough action, "Faster! Please!"
The two out right moan, but follow your request. It’s difficult not to lose themselves right away, though both of the triple changers could feel their resolve slipping. You feel so good!
For Blitzwing, felt everything become a blur. The only thing he cares about is the pleasure, and your cute, lewd sounds.
"Gonna fill you up... Make you mine... Wanted this for so long!" Blitzwing chants as he fucks his spike into you. This was like a dream come true! Oh how he loves you, wanted you and now getting to frag you... It was all he had ever wants.
You’re never left empty, one mech would slam in just as the other was pulls out.
You can barely process their words, your mind only thinking about how good they feel inside you.
Your optics roll back and intake falls open, your drool sliding down your chin as they use you like a fleshlight.
The pair pound their spikes into you. Your squeals echo throughout the hallway, all your sobs and cries for the entire Nemesis to hear. Blitzwing’s glossa rolls out of his mouth, a valve drunk grin stretched on his face.
You feel so good! And all your clenching is making him want to overload!
You shriek, your nails digging into Astrotrain’s shoulders, scratching him while you squeal, "T-there! Please! Fill me, need it- need your- ah!"
Their holds on you dent your metal, putting more of marks on you. Your helm tilts back against Blitzwing’s shoulder, too heavy to hold up anymore. Their spikes are constantly slamming into your sweet spot, leaving you in tears.
"Gonna overload! Oooh frag! Frag!" You cry, your valve clenching as your transfluid gushes on their spikes, making a mess on their mesh and creating a small puddle on the floor below. Your spike sprays transfluid onto Astrotrain’s stomach mesh and chassis, coating him in your filthy scent, bringing you to new heights. The only sounds that you make are fragged out of you in a punishing rhythm, your sweet cries of 'Ah! Ah! Ah!' echoing though the hallway.
"C'mon! Take it! Take all of it! G-gonna cum, mark you as mine! Aah!" Astrotrain struggles to moan out, voice cracking into a pathetic whine as his charge surgesthrough him.
“No, mine!” Blitzwing argues, sinking his denta into your neck cables, and denting them to leave an imprint of his bite along your frame.
You arch your spinal strut, body twitching as another high pitch wail tears from your sore throat. You feel another overload charge through your systems from the bite alone. The two growl and swear under their breath, spikes twitching before they overload inside you. They pound your forge tank and push all their transfluid inside, with slow, heavy thrusts to frag their fluid deeper into you. Load after load just continues being pumped into your filled valve.
Both mechs slow to a stop, venting harshly as they rest within you, making you warm their spikes. Your frame twitches sporadically, with broken weak whimpers coming from your well used voice box. Not a thought through your helm aside from more, more, more! Your hips attempt to move to grind down on them, but Astrotrain’s servos keep their hold on you.
The triple changers hiss through gritted denta as your valve clenches down on them trying to get them to frag you again.
“You just can’t stop…” Blitzwing sighs, struggling to decide if he can handle it or not, maybe one or two more couldn’t hurt, wait for Astrotrain to get too tired and he can have you to himself, mount you like the glitch in heat you are.
“How much can your valve even take, doll?” Astrotrain tries not to sound so shocked, after all this you still want more? Just what are those outdated codes doing to you?
Astrotrain barely pulls his spike out and grinds himself back into you valve, testing his own sensitivity. With a hushed moan, the triple changer decides for you, he could go again, maybe even shove Blitzwing out of the way and have a moment alone with you like he originally planned.
“You blasted barbarians are going to overload their capacitors! It'll take forever to fix them!" a new voice shouts, the sounds of the mech’s pedes getting closer has the triple changers looking down the hall on one livid Hook.
The constructicon wastes no time smacking Astrotrain upside the head, making Blitzwing cackle, until he’s smacked too with a loud ’thunk!' The two groan from the pain.
“Look at ‘em! You got their helm all fragged up. Do you know what issues overheatin’ can cause, it ain’t pretty!” The green mech shouts, waving a wrench around to threaten the triple changers like they were just a pack of dumb dogs. “Hand ‘em over before you two send ‘em into the well.”
“What!? You think we’re dumb enough to just hand them off to you? What for, so you can hog them for yourself? Fat chan-” Astrotrain is cut off by Hook chucking a wretch at him as hard as he possibly could, making the larger mech stumble back with a new dent to his forehead before toppling over.
Blitzwing watches the construct mech pull another tool from his subspace, ready to go pede to pede with the last standing triple changer. Thinking on it, Blitzwing is sure he could kill Hook, put him in his place and humiliate the mech by fragging you some more over him. His thoughts disappear when you try to move, but are unable to, almost like your frame was made of lead. The air pushes from your vent, only glowing brighter with each passing moment.
Ah frag it, don’t say he didn’t do anything nice for you.
Hook is surprised when Blitzwing pulls out of you, letting his transfluid leak from you before he's handing you off to the medic.
“About damn time you had some sense.” Hook takes you, gentle in how he holds your barely conscious frame to his own
“Don’t push your luck, runt.”
Just for that, the triple changer might go snitch. After all, those cone-heads are probably searching for you too, or those combaticons. What is he saying? The entire ship is hunting for you.
Hook dips while he can, muttering some choice words as he takes in the state you are in. The twitches, the glazed look in your optics, the fact you haven’t moved since being placed in his arms; it makes a pang of worry pulse through his spark. First, he is getting you cleaned up. That’s what you needed most, and some energon too, and then a long stasis. What could even be used as nesting material? Bah, he’ll figure it out when you’re asleep.
Right into the wash room he goes. He needs to make this quick before anyone else tries to take you away. Turning the faucet on, he lets the oil get warm first, and then moves you into it’s range, sitting on the floor with you tucked sweetly into his lap. His spark is melting at how you lean into his chassis, helm sluggishly nuzzling into his neck cables. Now he sees why everyone has been having a hard time keeping their servos off you. You’re so precious when you’re all fragged out like this, he can’t really blame anyone… except he will anyway.
“Sorry, boss, but we gotta get you at least half decent.” Hook speaks softly, as at least here behind a closed door he can be gentle with you without anyone seeing.
You almost win when you whimper, being moved so your back meets his chassis, your tender array exposed once more to the gentle warmth of the oil. You don’t put up a fight, allowing the mech to do whatever he wants with you. You're barely aware of him placing a cloth to your chassis, rubbing and lathering you up, cleaning your transfluid off yourself in slow motions. Hook coos as your engine begins to rumble quietly in a gentle purr, content and happy to be touched so lovingly after all the tossing around you’ve been put through.
“Look at you, all sweet f’me, yeah?” He chuckles, nuzzling his helm against yours, having read up on heat protocols just to help you better.
You don’t speak, only answering him with a lazy turn of your helm to lightly bonk against his. Soon Hook’s servo sinks lower. He shushes you when he brushes across the dents in your armor that Blitzwing’s grip left on you. The lower he goes the more you begin to stir, no longer just resting against him but actively trying to move; whether away from his touch or into it he can’t say for sure, but he wraps his free servo around your waist to make sure you can’t move too far from him.
“Easy there, boss, I got ya. Just a little more, alright?” Hook reassures you, his sweet handsome mech, all pretty on his lap.
“Mm.” You can barely hum, but your processor begins to wake up a little more.
Your frame jerks forward, a sharp inhale through your vents as Hook rubs your spike. A pitiful mewl falls from your dermas, hips shaking on his lap.
“Shh, I just gotta clean you up before we get you to your habsuite.” Or his, probably his, it’s safer.
“Hook…” You whine his name with a tremble to your voice. His touch is so light, it’s like he’s teasing you, driving you crazy!
Once your spike was clean, or as clean as he was going to get it as he watches it throb and leak more pre-fluid, he moves to your more than well loved valve. Primus, your anterior node feels so hot, pulsing even under the most delicate touches.
“Brutes just don’t know how to treat you right, such a shame.” Hook coos, but he can’t lie, seeing you so stuffed and so mindless is getting his charge going. He wishes he got to you first, and he would have, had it not been for that stupid purple seeker and his outlier.
Digits carefully glide around your valve mesh, wiping away the combined fluids sticking to it. He tries to coax as much out as he can before needing to insert his digits. His engine nearly stalls when you buck your hips sloppily into his palm, trying to get his digits in deeper, to make them curl and hit your ceiling nodes. But Hook remains strong, as much as he doesn’t want to.
“Easy, doll, don’t move, just let me do all the work.” You make it difficult to remain so calm, when you’re moving like this and making sounds like that.
Any more noise and-
The door to the washrooms bursts open and Hook can only close his optics with a deep sigh, already knowing the dumbafts who have shoved their way inside.
“You glitch, how could ya run off and leave us fightin’ everyone else?” Bonecrusher shouts, moving past Scrapper and making a beeline right to you and Hook.
“Shhh!! If you’re any louder the others will find us!” Hook scolds, but it falls on deaf audials.
“You think you can just take them for yourself and not share with us?” Mixmaster joins along side Bonecrusher.
Despite Hook’s best attempts he is shoved to the side as the others surround you, lifting you up off the ground and placing you on one of the benches just outside the shower. The six coo at your sad whimper being moved away from the warm oil.
“Don’t you worry boss, we will warm you up real good.” Scrapper pats your thigh, chuckling at how you just fall limp, spreading yourself open to welcome their touch.
“Slag am I, scrap metal!?” Hook tries to argue whilst being shoved away to the side. Since he wanted to take you for himself he will have to deal with merely taking your one of your servo’s leaving the rest of your delectable frame to the others.
Scavenger and Long Haul wasting no time diving down to either side of your hips, sucking your spike each taking a side and sucking along your thick length, spoiling you with their desperate need to taste your transfluid. Mixmaster is crouched just below, nearly out of view, blocked by the two on your lap. Green servos curl around the apex of your inner thighs, thumbs spreading those fat valve lips open to let Mixmaster see that pulsing node and dripping hole. He’s already drooling just looking at it. The heavy, heady scent of your valve almost puts him in a trance.
You can’t see past Scavenger and Long Haul, but you can feel it, though your processor runs slow from the feverish touches of your other lovers. Long Haul licks up, glossa dragging across your weeping tip lapping at the copious transfluid before wrapping his dermas around it sucking it while Scavenger kisses the base of your spike sucking each ridge on his way up, placing a servo where he once was to try and milk your cock.
Mixmaster wastes no time getting a taste of your freshly cleaned valve, already shoving his face between your legs. All you can feel is his glossa teasing your slick hole, licking and collection all your weeping fluid up, slowly, up to your sweet node making a circle with his covered glossa, dragging it back to your clenching hole, just to take what he’s collected to spit it all on your too sensitive bud before wrapping his dermas around it, sucking on it just to get you giving him more of your intoxicating slick. Laughing against your mesh as you shake.
Bonecrusher chuckles, holding the sides of your helm in his servos making you tilt your head back to look at him, more so at his spike, fat and long. Your optics widen for a brief moment yet your intake already drops open, drooling and ready to be filled. Slowly, the heavy mech guides his spike down your throat, pipe bulging with each rut of his hips shoving cock down your intake. The towering mech groans loudly, drool sliding down his chin feeling you swallow around his spike, your throat tightening around his length trying to milk him. Frag, you’re just too much!
Your optics begin to cross, tears welling in them. It’s too much, you can’t take much more of this! Primus, they are trying to off line you. Yet your frame begs to differ. Scavenger and Long Haul needing to hold your hips down to keep you from throwing them off. Your pedes squirm, heels digging into Mix Master’s back strut as he sucks on your pretty node. Whimpers and moans muffled on the fat spike choking you, unable to handle such lavish attention.
“That’s it, sweetness, let us handle ya.” Bonecrusher sighs out, his vocal components shorting for a brief moment as he overloads, his transfluid coating your intake, giving you too much with it starting to overflow from around him. Bonecrusher pulls out, letting some of his cum spurt across your face and chassis. while Hook and Scrapper are feeling up your frame, groping your mesh and teasing as your transformation seams as they fuck their spikes into your fists.
“Aw poor boss, yer lookin’ a bit flustered there.” Bonecrusher can’t help but tease, knowing you can’t answer him let alone even hear him.
You do nothing but moan, swallowing all of his cum that you can and opening your intake once more showing you’ve swallowed all he had to give, yet trying to tempt him to keep going, making Bonecrusher swear loudly.
The surprise suction to your anterior node makes your optics widen and back strut arch. It’s too good! Too much! Your frame still so used and sensitive from how many mechs have fucked you, but your heat clouds it all, the mixture of pain and pleasure becoming so intoxicating! Your hips bucking torn between more and escaping the hold you’re in. Long Haul chokes not expecting to take much more so suddenly, though his optics roll back with your transfluid gushing down his throat and trying to greedily drink it all.
Just to be shoved away by Scavenger, who swiftly slams your spike all the way down his throat, sucking and messily slurping down the remaining transfluid you have.
“You afthole, it was my turn on their spike!” Though the snarl falls on deaf audials.
Mixmaster, however, is left unchallenged, his own hips bucking into the air with his dermas off your node and right to your creaming hole. He can’t stop moaning against the pretty valve in his face. When your frame goes limp then the three pull off your array, leaving you venting harshly. Your optics are glazed over, audials feeling like they are stuffed with mesh, barely registering the group are all smirking and chuckling, already planning how to pick you apart now that they have you alone in the washroom with them.
“Slag, just look at you! Ain’t you a filthy sight?” Hook coos at you, moving his hips in your almost limp fist. Primus, he shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as he is, he’s suppose to be taking care of you, washing you up for a long stasis, but he really isn’t any better than the other cons, is he?
“Could keep ya all to ourselves like this.” Scrapper sighs out, his engine rumbling in a low purr taking in the sight of you, all fragged out and dripping with transfluid, watching your all too sensitive hips twitch up on their own accord, spurting more of your own transfluid like you overloaded just from their words.
You whimper, optics slowly blinking as you try to gather yourself, but all you can focus on is Bonecrusher’s still throbbing spike against your face. The mech before you huffs, his frame gently shaking as you run your glossa along what you can reach, giving it a wet kiss as a silent ‘thank you’. You really are after his spark, ain’t ya?
Scavenger leans back, silently shoving Mix’s helm out of the way, much to the other’s annoyance. But Mix focuses his energy onto your gaping holes, showing his love by pushing his glossa in and licking your fluids right from the source. Scavenger wets his digits with his own spit before reaching down and pinching your pulsing node between his digits.
Your optics widen, pedes snapping shut around Mixmaster’s helm with a violent tremble, your intake dropping open with a loud squeal that makes your voice crack and pitch into static. Your hips lurch forward, grinding across Mix’s face, using him for your pleasure. Mixmaster’s optics roll back, his hips jerking, humping the air in desperation, spraying his transfluid everywhere expect where he wants it the most.
A series of swears echo around, jaws dropping at the sight of those pretty optics rolling back with tears stinging them. Your overload gushing from your valve, coating Mix and Scavenger in your spraying transfluid.
“Keep goin’!”
“Primus, look at them! Get a picture, look at that slaggin’ face!”
“That’s it, Boss, lookin’ so good for us! Keep screamin’, c’mon, let’s hear that pretty voice.”
Scrapper’s helm perks up, looking away from you at an all too familiar sound.
“Scrap, we have company.”
Hook groans, still fucking his transfluid into your fist, “See this is exactly why I told you bag of bolts to keep it down!”
Just how many more are going to have your body for themselves?
OP. OP my kingdom for the heat scenario with decepticons instead. OP take my firstborn-
My moot @smallestapplin is actually writing exactly that and has been for a hot minute saying it's gonna be long one. You can look at a quick preview of it here (which I'll rb in a moment)
ﾟ+.ﾟ(´▽`人)ﾟ+.ﾟ
Maybe I'll try my paw at it in my own cooking at a later date if the inspo happens to strike but I don't wanna promise anything (since I don't currently have any plans at the moment to do that). I do have a perspective/little thing with the cons with autobot readers version from "responsible"/the heat scenario in my wips tho. So there are at least some planned heat shenanigans with the cons being written. (Its a touch crack but it is smut at least)
I’m working as fast as I can, I got the elite trine part almost done, and then likely adding Astrotrain and Blitzwing before finishing it with the constructicons.
I’m sorry my writing has been non existent, but I’ve got something big cooking! Might end up being the longest thing I’ve written.
18+ mdni! Decepitcons, Free use, cybertronian reader, gn reader, dubcon(heat), heat cycle, lemme know if I missed anything!
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How pitiful, such a strong and large decepticon elite like yourself taken out by your outdated heat protocols being activated, such obsolete coding making you nothing but spike hungry shareware, and in the heat of battle no less! That poor autobot leader trying so hard to tend to you, to protect you from your own when all you wanted so badly was to be fragged, you were even whimpering for him!
That’s why you’re under the table now to ‘make up for it’ as Megatron said. A meeting, it was needed to discuss future plans of attack and what to do about you. But how can anyone focus on what their leader is saying when all they can hear is you choking yourself on Megatron’s spike? Every word their leader says is nearly drowned out entirely by your need. Never had they heard you sound so downright sinful, muffled whines and messy slurping sounds all anyone in the room can focus on.
“Further more it seems our plan backfired in more ways than one.” Megatron drones on, seemingly not at all affected by your greedy sucking, “Who knew such obsolete code existed within our ranks?” He laughs, placing a servo to the back of your helm and not even needing to shove you further down his spike, you do it all yourself, moaning so sweetly around him as you take it to the base.
Sorry for dying I got hit with a massive amount of depression. I’m stilling planning to write though, you can pry this blog from my cold dead pizza paws.
Fighting for my life though. I’m sorry for making everyone wait.
Please be mindful of hackers as usual, they are getting crafter and more real like it seems. I checked the blog and it seemed so real, they reblogged something like 4 hours ago.
Tumblr will never ask you to go to discord for their ‘live investigation.’
Gotta say though this is like my second time dealing with this, not a lot but it’s kinda funny to me in a way.
If you get contacted just block them. And if real it is what it is.
I second a pt2 of Tease, yes, please! But more Autobots, please 🙏🏽 🙏🏽 🙏🏽 Cons are good too but just. Love the guilt but still refusing to stop what they're doing. Also, have you ever considered yandere Mirage? He feels like an obvious choice considering his abilities 💕
Yeah! a couple of you wanted more Autobots. Still doing the cons version of this, just this one got started sooner so I finished it first. And I made Mirage extra guilty for you nonnie. Almost overwhelming lust and desire how I adore writing you.
"Tease" pt2 GN BOT Reader x [Yandere/Obsessed] Sunstreaker, Mirage, Hound, Skyfire, Jazz
Summary: The bots snap. Or BOT Reader gets their valve pounded.
Genre/Theme: Yandere Smut 🔞 MDNI
G1 Characters: Sunstreaker, Mirage, Hound, Skyfire, Jazz
Notes: Reader wants to frag but thought it would be more fun to tease the bots while playing coy. The bots don't know this, however, hence the CNC instead of NC or Dubious consent because they think its full NC from their perspective, Jazz is the only one who gets consent here (After he starts grabbing though), Reader is specifically described as smaller than Skyfire (But even Optimus is half Skyfires size so y’know). Spike and valve terms used.
Sunstreaker’s sparkdamn digits are twitching and he’s clenching his fists hard enough to ache when his need of waiting for you to get with the program already hits a peak.
His maintenance and polishing efforts both came with the reward of your frame looking even better than before- Of course it did-! Sunstreaker knew what he was doing! But he didn’t think that would also come coupled together with his processor taking even more notice of you and your frame. And how you’d move, talk, and look that good like that, while still fragging not getting the obvious hints that Sunstreaker needed wanted you-!
He thinks he might just grab you the next time he sees you alone and drag you right back to his habsuite and show you exactly how lucky you were.
Sunstreaker can feel his sparkdamn engine running hot enough it's audible as he stomps his way to the washracks after the battle. The thrill of the fight still pumping in his fuel lines and from being slagged off over the sparkdamm decpticreeps ruining his finish with mud!
He barges into the empty wash racks and is so mad he just picked a rack in the back. And he scrubs and scrubs. He Ignores whoever decided to turn on the shower right next to him. He's clean of the outer layer of muck and his paint was-
He jerks when a low groan of pleasure comes from right next to him.
And he looks right at you.
You sigh in obvious enjoyment and let the solvents spray over yourself- solvents covering and rolling down the gaps of your frame-
Sunstreaker’s battle mode switches on and it’s a blur of tight servos and sudden grappling and he's eventually got you pinned against one of the walls. Hot solvents running down the both of you. One of your legs had ended up over his pauldron during the scuffle- Fight him for it- whatever! Sunstreaker was done waiting!
He doesn't remember ripping your modesty panel open, or his digits in your valve, but he does remember bottoming out inside you almost immediately. Digits clamped firm around the dips in your hips as he curses while your valve flutters around him. Your digits digging into his own frame tight enough it aches isn’t enough to stop Sunstreaker from picking an unforgiving pace.
You could only cry out when he started slamming himself back inside you again and again. Primus, you shouldn’t feel this good-! Your valve squeezes down on him and Sunstreaker grits his denta and grabs your jaw before yanking your mouth against his own. Your denta knock against his own and it stings, but not nearly as much as your digits do. His glossia presses against your own trying to get everything out of you he can- every sound, every gasp, every nip of your denta. You bite him back roughly and he tastes his own energon. His engine revs hard enough his entire chassis vibrates against your own.
You whine against him when he suddenly stops on his next trip bottoming out to grind his pelvis against your own- your pede almost slips out underneath yourself on the solvent still running over the both of you. So Sunstreaker just grabs your thigh and hefts your other leg up in his grip. Your dermas break apart and your back slides against the wall with a harsher sound of your metal against it. You curse and scramble for a better hold onto his frame at the complete weight shift- And the solvent makes you both go slipping and falling against one another against and down the wall.
Sunstreaker’s knees hit the ground and you hiss in a vent but Sunstreaker just pushes forward to press you fully back against the wall he has you trapped against.
Your pedes are almost to your pauldrons the way he’s forcing you to bend and you say his designation-! Sunstreaker doesn’t wait to hear what you might have said- too worried about more important things. Like how your valve is even wetter than before while taking his spike and how good you sound moaning his designation. His hips snap, picking right back up to his original pace- making you say his designation over and over, while your frames ground against each other with each thrust. Sunstreaker knew your paints were rubbing on him- That his yellow was bleeding right into your own colors-!
And Sunstreaker suddenly doesn’t think he’s going to let you buff it out afterwards.
Mark you-! Make it clear who was fragging you senseless enough that your paints were mixing together in an uncoordinated mess. Mixing together sloppy like how your lubricant is mixing with his own-! Slipping down his own array and frame every time he bottomed back out inside you. Your expression a filthy fragging sight, when you looked like you were obviously about to overload right on his spike. Sunstreaker growls at the image and rushes forward to lock you into another smothering kiss. He swallows down the muffled groan out of you when one of his servos finds your spike and he jerks you off rapidly as his pace turns uncoordinated.
His overload hits him so hard Sunstreaker feels like one of his spark plugs might’ve just popped loose. At least it feels like it when his engines practically roaring in his own audials. You bite down on him and fold against him while your spike throbs in his servo. And Sunstreaker wants to fragging drown you in his em field when yours finally starts pushing back against his own.
When he breaks the kiss you’re both venting harsh and Sunstreaker can already see his yellow streaked against your chassis. Your own colors marking him just the same.
Any ounce of the pristine effort Sunstreaker had busted his aft to ensure of your paint job was practically an after thought now. The solvent makes some of your own transfuild start running down your frame and your twitching spike. Expression thoroughly fragged out of it and you looked like you were struggling to even think.
You’re a fragging mess.
Sunstreaker actually feels his engine start to purr at the sight of you. Of what he fragging did to you.
And Sunstreaker suddenly thinks he hasn’t ruined your paint job nearly enough for as long as you’ve been making him work for this.
You saying his designation so out of it, only makes his spark jump in excitement and his spike to throb inside you. You grunt and Sunstreaker just gets a proper grip back onto your frame so he can bottom right back out inside you again. You clawing the paint right off his sides with a grunt only makes him more heated.
Sunstreaker wasn’t going to stop until he knew his yellow wasn’t going to be coming out of your frame without a serious repaint!
(Now Mirage might be later in this list but unfortunately it turns out he cannot keep himself out of your habsuite.)
Mirage knows very well he shouldn't be doing this. Mirage isn't some- filthy pervert-! He's just... worried! Concerned! You've been so- tantalizing as of late, Mirage knows very well some of the other mechs in The Ark could possibly take advantage of you! He's simply checking in on you.
And he's certainly right to do so, because you'd left the door to your habsuite unlocked. Completely and utterly up for anybody on The Ark to walk in and snoop. Or take something of yours- and if you were here when that happened, then what could they have done to you!? It's good he can stop it. Good he can prevent anyone from getting any dastardly ideas or anything else of the sort.
But then you return before he can make his own exit and you do at least lock the door behind yourself… Which locked him in with you.
Mirage didn't allow himself to... shadow you like this with his outlier ability activated very often. (Because he's not some dastard degenerate!) But he's here… and so are you and he can't exactly leave now without you noticing.
So instead he watches you sit on your berth and Mirage waits.
He can't exactly do much else now can he-
Mirage almost gives himself away then and there when you abruptly snap your modesty panel back.
Your array is- active already. Very active.
Your own spike pressurizing is enough to make you audibly sigh in relief. Mirage swallows so loudly at the sight he's genuinely shocked you didn’t realize he was there. You do look in his direction- but after a few astroseconds you dismiss it, not seeing a thing out of place. Mirage preemptively puts his own servo over his faceplate in case he cannot stop himself soon enough again. His optics running over the detailing on your array- (And maybe- maybe he ends up unconsciously moving closer.)
So Mirage watches you shuffle through your things and- almost gives himself away again when you pull out a false spike. Then he watches you spread your thighs apart and line the toys tip up with your valve.
Mirage has to smother down the sound begging for exit at his intake when you take the toy down to base in one go.
Primus-!
Your valve continues to take the toy every single time you’d push it back inside yourself. Mesh and hole obediently accommodating to take it down to base every single time. The obscene amount of lubricant you were producing made the task look laughably easy. His array was already waking up when you pulled your panel back- now his own thighs are twitching inward over the amount of charge steadily building the longer he watches you desecrate yourself.
Mirage’s own array is throbbing behind his panelby the time you're panting. Languidly thrusting the toy in and out of your own hole, completely unaware of what you were doing to him.
You eventually pull the false spike out- lubricant all over the thing and your own valve mesh. Valve fluttering over nothing for a klick- utterly empty (but practically begging for spike-!). You instead roll onto your side to focus on your spike with your free servo moving to start stroking over your frame sensually.
Mirage’s optics unwillingly zero in onto the back of your valve- inner thighs practically soaked in your own valve lubricant.
Mirage swallows again-
And he suddenly finds he cannot stop his frame from acting on its own.
Mirage had- Mirage had gotten behind you on your own berth, settling on his own side- before burying himself against the back of your frame and pressing a servo over your mouth in one motion. You jolted in surprise, his other servo hooking underneath your knee juncture and pushing it upwards.
A muffled sound of utter shock hums against his palm when he pushes his spike into your waiting valve. Replacing the false spike just as easily.
He doesn’t even hesitate before he starts thrusting proper.
This is wrong- this is wrong-! Mirage was better than this! He's so much better than this. But- you squeezing down on him further only makes him pick up his tempo. You- you're so pent up that you were dripping your own pre lubricants on the inside of your own modesty panel! You hadn't even touched yourself before any of that activity had taken place in your array. You were desperate, bucking against the inadequate interface toy and your own servos.
Mirage was just- you just needed some assistance-! That's all this was! (Mirage unfortunately can't delude himself enough into genuinely believing the fabrication.) You were barely struggling against him-! Instead taking his spike everytime. You feel perfect-!
Making all that muffled noise behind his servo- He desperately wants to pull it away to hear you. Hear what sounds you make for him when his spike bottoms out in you so roughly. But he's also terrified of what you may very well say. Mirage doesn't believe he'd be able to control himself enough to actually stop if you'd asked him to right now-!
Mirage’s digit pads squeeze tighter against the under of your thigh he still has hiked upwards, and he starts snapping his hips quicker. Your valve aroused enough- you're aroused enough, that it takes his harsher treatment with no protests. (Protests no doubt on your glossia instead. Mirage knows they're there- he knows-!)
A muffled noise sounds out of your throat when Mirage must strike your ceiling node on his next thrust forward. And Mirage can’t stop himself from hoisting your thigh further upwards and burying his frame closer against your back. Almost as if he can somehow get even closer to you then before.
Your digits dig into his arm unforgivably tight. But still he only huffs and gasps; your designation tumbling out of his mouth.
Mirage doesn't bother trying to restrain himself to stay silent anymore- why would he!? You wouldn't think the invisible mech spiking you unforgivably from behind could possibly be anybody other than himself! Your noises keep catching against his servo and picking up to the point every jump of his hips forces another sound out of you. His invisibility flicks off and he becomes tangible again when you claw some of his paint right off of his gauntlet.
Your valve squeezes down on him and you overload with a sharp muffled cry, spike spilling transfluid onto your own berth. Your spinal strut arching (away from him-), and your plating clamps down on itself. Your grip on his arm might have your entire servo print dented into it at this point-! Mirage wants to know-needs to know what you sound like- but he can't face what he's done yet-! (What he's still doing-!)
So instead he drags you back closer against his chassis and makes sure his servo won't slip away from your mouth before he starts bucking into you with a wild abandon. Each rough meeting of your aft with his pelvis makes you only louder behind his palm. You’re so aroused from just both your lubricants it sounds as if he’d already overloaded inside you!
Mirage grits his denta together harshly, before bottoming out and keeping his hold on you tight. His overload washes over him hard enough his audials are left ringing. Each pump of his spike spilling more of his transfluid into you. You’re left making repeated sounds against him while he overloads inside of you- Valve squeezing down on him periodically, which he knows only makes his transfliud slip deeper inside your valve! Mirage has to abort a whine when it escapes his intake at the thought- so loud and disgraceful it makes his plating tighten back down on itself in mortification.
By the time he relaxes again he's left venting and your valves throbbing around his spike. He finally forces his servo to pull away from your mouth and you gasp in greedy vents. The air fogging from the heat of it, and your optics so so bright. Mirage can feel his spike throb inside you when his designation falls out of your disheveled self and his hips end up bucking up instinctively once more. You grunt and curse and squeeze down on him- and Mirage decides if he's going to face what he's done regardless, he's not going to stop at the single round-!
There wasn't a reason to try and control himself now was there-? He's already ruined everything! Mirage might as well enjoy you while he still can-! His designation falling out of your derma again when Mirage moves only makes him thrust harder after. You latch your servos back onto him tight and moan- which sends another hot volt of charge right into his array.
Mirage still needed to hear your voice while you were overloading on his spike.
Mirage was going to satisfy your frame enough that you won’t be walking around The Ark with your array begging for satisfaction ever again.
Hound doesn’t know if he can keep himself together for much longer. After he'd stolen your cleaning cloth he'd used it day after day till your scent wore out of it. Eventually he managed to look you in the optics again. And Hound was faced by the fact that something was very wrong with him in regards to you. Every touch, glance, and brush of your frame by his own had heat building in his array near immediately in response to it. It was like every little movement of your frame was suddenly provocative.
Hound knows he shouldn't have indulged in your dirty cleaning cloth! The perverted fantasies had only made him worse!
You're both doing some basic inventory sorting together on the ark. (Hound already fighting to continue to be normal while alone with you.). Then the extra gear shift you're holding slips out of your servo and goes rolling right underneath a panel gap in one of the Arks walls. You curse and go after it, Hound watches you go before he looks down to type what he needs to on the datapad wondering if he should offer to help or not.
Hound glances up at you and almost drops the datapad right onto the floor.
You had gotten on your knees and servos to try and get the small equipment out of where it had rolled. Your aft up in the air and modesty panel visible to Hound. You back up about your arms length away from the wall and drop your helm- obviously trying to see where it had gone. But all Hound can see is the gap where the manual release on your modesty panel is.
Hound wordlessly puts the datapad down and walks over, getting on his own knees behind you- because Hound was going to help you get the gear shift-!
But next thing Hound knows he had grasped your hips from behind and dragged you backwards. Yanking your manual release and spiking you right there in the inventory room. You felt so good around him he also couldn’t help the way his hips rut sharply.
Now Hound's got his helm buried against your back or neck cables. (or leaning over you if he's that much bigger than you) But regardless his servos are latched onto your hips. Hound’s huffing and puffing against your metal. His own vents so heated from the burning warmth in his frame- your metals now got condensation fogging where he's against. It drips down your frame and you’re gasping and huffing. His spike almost bottoming out. His spike modification preventing him from being fully inside of you-! Primus he's loosing it! He can't help it-! Please please be okay taking it- taking him-!
When his modification hits the mesh of your valve again Hound yanks you backwards with a muttered repeated gasps of "Sorry-!” when he hears the noise of shock out of you. But his knot gets half way through and then slides the rest of the way in with a quick pop. His pelvis bumps into the back of your aft and Hound bites down on you. Hound groans so loud he's sure you can feel the sound vibrate against where he's sinking his denta into you. You shudder and Hound can feel your knees wanna start sliding but his knot catches slightly on your hole. It starts pulling out of you-!
Hound pulls back, his knot catching lightly on your hole but it still pops out when Hound jerks. You're huffing and the plating on your back plates are shuffling up.
Hound relaxed his jaw and he laps a greedy strip along the condensation he'd built up on your metal. Hound can't help the moan that spills out of him while he's tasting you and huffing in your own natural scent.
You grunt and suck in a sharp vent, when Hound forcibly pushes his knot back into you again. And Hound doesn't stop his practically abusing of your hole. He’s sorry-! He’s so sorry! The apologies die in his own throat when he groans over how good you feel. He wants to stop-! (He doesn’t.) He swears! He swears-!
A strangled noise escaping you only had Hound slamming into you quicker- Hound popping his knot back into your valve easier and easier every time he pushed and pulled it back out of you in between his hurried thrusts. The sloppy sound of your valve taking his knot again and again- His pelvis starts smacking against your aft audibly in his hurried thrusts.
Primus-!
Hound keeps muttering your designation again and again; the sound practically falling out of his mouth every push and pull of his knot. He can’t stop-! He can’t.
Hound then pulled up from where he was nestled flat against your back. Because he needs a better leverage angle!
Hound frame leers over your own and he grips his digits between the gap between your pelvis and your thigh armor. You groaned loudly in response to the sensitive wires and seams being bumped by the tips of his digits-! He needs more of you-! Hound bottoms out one last time, knot slipping inside you, and Hound ends up overloading the hardest he has in vorns. His mouth falls open and a long drawn out groan that makes his spark hum loud, falls out of it. His knot throbs along with his spike- having inflated and promptly locking his spike inside you.
By the time his knot deflates after a few klicks, your face is in your own gauntlets by the ground.
You’re both panting and both of your platings shuddering almost audibly. Hound bites his bottom derma but that still doesn't end up muffling his moan when he pulls out of you. A raspy sharp noise sounds out of you when his knot pulls your hole open again. But your valve finally let's go with a wet pop, the rest of his spike sliding out along with.
Hound straightens his back out so he's not leaning over you finally and he catches sight of your soaking wet valve that's now spilling his transfluid out onto the floor. Your spent spikes still twitching under you. Your own transfluid from your spike ends up getting muddled together with Hound's own when it keeps spilling out of you.
Hound whines and his spike twitches in interest again.
He just- Hound needed just another round or two to make sure his modesty panel will close correctly. Hound can see your own spike is still hard and ready to go. And Hound couldn't simply leave you like this-!
Hound Lined himself back up and gasped when he slid his spike back home- you’re clawing and flexing against the ground at the treatment.
Hound can’t help the way his engine revs when you say his designation like that. Nor can he stop himself from rutting forward with more vigor.
It’s an arduous and near impossible task for Skyfire to end up surviving this long but he does.
He does his job- he flys, he transports- he does his occasional experiments. And he just knows something bad may just end up happening (That he might do something horrible-!).
Skyfire- Skyfire didn’t know what was wrong with himself and his growing- obsession with you. Every glance, every move, every shift of your plating had Skyfire fighting to act properly! It had gotten to the point Skyfire even had Perceptor examine him and nothing came back amiss. Nothing.
But nothing wasn’t what was driving his digits to twitch and his thoughts to wander so wildly- so dirty-! It was you and Skyfire knows he can’t blame you- (You didn’t know. You didn’t know!)
He’s in the lab- trying to research earth marine mammals because of something Chip had said that sparked his interest. And you come in, ask him where something was- (he can’t even recall what it was initially!). But it was on one of the top storage shelves lining the wall. Skyfire doesn’t even allow himself to turn around and face you when informing you where it was.
But he can’t help snapping his helm in your direction when you ask for his help.
The item was just barely out of your reach. So Skyfire clenches his servos and walks over. You stay in your place directly under the item and Skyfire simply got slightly closer. And he reached-
His optics snap downwards when your em field drags warmly over his front due to proximity. You’re staring up at him watching, waiting-. Your frame close enough Skyfire can feel you regardless of the lack of direct contact.
And then Skyfire does something horrible.
Skyfire’s servo abandons the item back in place on it’s shelf.
And instead his servos fly onto your frame instead. You gasp at his sudden touch and say his designation in confusion. And Skyfire can’t stop himself- he can’t- he can’t-!
He’d found your manual release on your array (His digits almost too large to even catch onto it correctly-!) and pulled it and-
Now Skyfire’s here apologizing.
He’s cooing, and his em field is brushing down the ruffled up plating on your frame. And now almost half his spike is sitting heavy inside your poor valve! You weren’t even his size class-! Oh, Primus, why did he do this-!? A shaky moan tumbles out of your mouth and his plating quivers. His spike throbs inside you when you make an almost sinful sound and Skyfire can feel the more coherent part of his processor forcibly shutting down.
So Skyfire swallows down the lump in his throat because you’re so sweet-! You sound so sweet. You feel fantastic! His servos on your hips squeeze for some type of tether. Tether to keep him here and not lose himself in the sensation- in the sensation of you and force you to take even more of his feelings for you-!
Your em field presses back against his own and you whine. He can spot your own now pressurized spike starting to bead pre lubricant-
And you’re cute and perfect-!
Skyfire tries and fails to bite back a whine of his own all before he pushes forward again. Your spinal strut arches further and a sharp sound of alarm comes from you. Your servos scrambling- One finds its hold on one of the shelves, the other gripping his wrist tight enough your digit pads would certainly be left behind. (He wants that-! Skyfire wants that so badly. Skyfire needs to be marked as yours!) Half his spike does slide into your valve and Skyfire forces his hips to stop. He didn’t want to hurt you! Didn’t-
You unsteadily manage to stutter out his designation. And his optics snap wide and again he can’t- he can’t-! “I’m sorry-! I’m sorry-!” His hips pull back and his spike forces you back open yet again- and Skyfire is still a slave to his terrible desires so he doesn’t stop once he starts.
At some point, the apologies falling out of his mouth end up becoming praise. “So good! Doing such a good job!” You're being too good for him-! Taking his spike and all his overwhelming affections without any complaints-!
You’re left taking everything Skyfire is forcing on you- his em field trying to make up for every rough bounce. His servos squeezing and threatening to mark you back with his own prints. His indefeasible apologies- And his spike sliding back into your valve and smacking up against your deeper pleasure nodes. Skyfire can tell when your frame flexes in his grip and you choke on your own voice. You’re taking him so well-!
You’re gasping and mewling at this point, clenching down on him to no avail, Skyfire still just forcibly dragging you backwards to meet his own relentless pace. Skyfire’s helm is foggy and he bites down on his bottom derma so he doesn’t get any louder-! He still keens when you groan richly as his spike hits what must be your ceiling node the right way. Your valves a mess of his and your own pre lubricants and you’re saying his designation and begging-!
Skyfire grits his denta and grips your waist firm enough he knows he’s marked you and slams himself inside you in quick desperate bucks- and Skyfire groans loudly when he overloads. You follow right after him squirming in his hold and squeezing down on him- And Skyfire may overheat-!
By the time his overload finishes Skyfire finally slacks and pants in heavy deep vents. You’re quivering slightly in his grasp and your transfluid is splattered all over one of the shelf’s and the contents on it. While his own is spilling down his and your thighs and dripping onto the ground-! Skyfire has to pull out of you- But he’s a touch busy murmuring apologies while trying to soothe the dents he’d left on your waist. Even though the urge to continue bouncing you up and down his spike wasn’t diminished in the slightest. The small used sounded out of you only make him feel even worse-
But it’s not only shame that builds back up inside himself under the sight of your disheveled state.
He still vents deep before forcing himself to start pulling back out of you- You keen and flex in his grip when his spike slowly drags back out along your pleasure nodes and overworked valve. You groan somwhere deep from your frame- and Skyfire has to bolt himself in place so he doesn’t end up forcing you to take the entirely of his spike in one forceful push back forward.
Forget harming you, he may just out right break you if he does that-!
The filthy thought of staying buried inside you long enough your valve adjusts to only be satisfied with his spike has his thighs tighten down so he doesn’t even entertain the perverted thought.
However Skyfire’s spike sinking a fraction deeper into you with his transfluid acting as extra lubricant certainly doesn't help him in fighting that urge any.
(On the flip side heres a mech that actually makes it to top five on keeping themselves together in the face of this particular advisory.)
There’s running on fumes and running on empty when it comes to missions. And right now Jazz felt like he was running on empty. Well not empty- but what he was running on wasn’t helping what he very very much needed to avoid thinking of- avoid doing. Maybe it was his little video he’d taken of you, His new prized possession of you taking care of your sweet self in that little hide away of The Arks hallway.
But after it Jazz starts noticing all sorts of things about ya- like the way your plating would ease when you thought no one was looking (Showing off seams begging to be touched-). The way your servo would drag when you touched him like you were second guessing if you even wanted to let him go (baby, don’t think about it- Touch him properly finally and he’ll never let you think about it again.)
It gets to the point Jazz starts thinking you might even be goading him on purpose.
But Jazz knows his strengths and weaknesses and he knows you’re his biggest weakness. He can’t let it cloud his judgments and ruin the relationship he even had with you now. So Jazz fists his servos and forces his struts to lock in place when he notices how good you look and how close you happened to be- And he instead records through his visor. And now he’s been combining the videos he has saved with the audio of you overloading in the hallway thinking you were alone. It helps a bit, but he can feel whats gripping his spark only windin’ tighter and tighter-
His spark finally pops free of the iron grip he’d had on it the entire time when he’s in your habsuite- You invited him when he mentioned he had a couple new tunes he really liked- and could show you if you wanted. You had a make shift couch made outta concrete in front of a short table in there and you were sitting by him- close enough Jazz could feel your em field curiously ghosting against the edge of his own- and Jazz already knows he’s playing a dangerous game.
And then you stand and bent over the short table to grab the cube you’d left over by a shelf across before you’d both settled in- And Jazz is greeted to your aft almost directly in his face. He can’t just see your modesty panel, he can see the lining of your modesty panel.
But what makes his spark finally slam free is your leg shifting just a bit so you can reach your cube properly. And your pede and leg end up pressing up against the side of his own. And its like a volt of energy shoots right up his leg and into his processor before he can even realize what’s happening.
And his servos snap out and grab to yank you until you re falling back and in his lap and against his front- and his digits are digging into your manual release- Jazz manages to barely get enough of himself back under control to ask if this was fine when his digit pads were already pressed firm into the detail of your manual release- (Baby please be okay- please be okay with him wanting ya-!).
Jazz actually getting that consent from you before he ruins the entire operation only makes his own panel snap back before he even finishes getting yours open. Because Sparkdamn you want him- you want him! You want him-! His spark feels like its about to burn a hole in his chassis when he gets his digits inside of you. You letting him touch you- You letting him just do this had his array dripping with pre lubricants. Jazz turns his audials as high as they can go so he hears every little even slight sound out of ya- And all it takes is one proper saying of his designation and he’s pulling his digits out and biting down his bottom derma.
You get your own thighs under yourself and Jazz grips your hips to guide his array to slot up with yours right- And Jazz groans when you let him drag you downwards to bottom out inside of ya. Primus, baby, you two haven’t even started and you already got him feeling like he’s gonna offline here. Jazz’s imagination ain’t nothing compared to how you feel taking his spike just right.
You actually end up taking initiative before he can- just an astrosecond quicker though. You pull upwards on your own thighs and Jazz ends up bucking upwards halfway through the process- making him bottom back out quick. Jazz moans when you squeeze down on him. “Doing- Doing great sweetspark.” You were already scrambling his systems real easy like. Jazz runs his optics over your back plating making sure to get a good look at everything so his recording of this would be remembered in more than just his fragging struts.
Jazz is meeting every bounce of your hips as well as he can anyway based on your position. The gravity pulling your pelvis back down. Every hot slide back up his spike almost as urging as Jazz’s own servos. Digits digging into the armor of your hips- trying to get a better leverage to have you taking more of him faster- The tempo dissolves into a needy and hurried one. Quick but it’s still not enough for him- Not enough to quiet the demanding want that’s been bubbling up under his plating for who knows how long.
Your lubricant from you sitting in his lap is rolling down jazz’s own thighs- His own valve slick rolling down to join it where its staining his inner thighs. You still take him sweet- almost as sweet as your sounds. Delicious but also still what Jazz would label as controlled. And that just wasn’t gonna fly for him- especially right now.
Jazz needed more from ya baby!
Jazz ends up hooking his servos under your thighs before he all but shoves you forward and you curse and land on your short table on your gauntlets- aft up and asking him what the pit that was over your pauldron.
All before Jazz follows after you, grabbing you by your hips and buries his spike back down to base into your valve from behind. And Jazz starts putting everything he’s had for ya kept under wraps right into pounding you. You curse when his impatient pace has you scrambling to grab the edge of the table for stability. And it helps- You squeezing down on him- being deeper inside of ya and being able to make you louder if he thrusts the right way. Primus, Jazz’s own point of view is making him feel like he’s pounding till you won’t forget him. So maybe you’d remember this just as easy even if you didn’t have your own recording of it.
You’re valves hot and treating him just right- But Jazz still needed you better. He knew he could get you louder! He knew-!
One of Jazz’s pedes thunks up on the table besides you and Jazz uses it as better leverage to bury his spike even deeper into you. You almost howl when Jazz does it- Frame flexing underneath him and valve squeezing down in him in delight. And Jazz grins while his engine revs loud- because that’s what he needs-! That’s what he needs from ya baby! His next vent is so heavy and heated it has his chassis shaking a bit when it leaves him all before he keeps pounding right into you.
Jazz can practically feel himself slamming into your celiing node on his thrusts back inside you and his sparks slamming into his spark chamber every time along with it. Or maybe that’s the sound of your table rocking every time he bottoms back out inside ya. But you sound so good taking him like this Jazz just keeps going. You were too good to him-! Taking him so good-!
His rhythm degrading quick when you just start saying his designation like that again and again-! Jazz’s servo ends up latching onto your upper frame as he thrusts start getting sloppy. Jazz overloads and he can’t stop slamming into ya- But by the way your gasping only makes him glad he’s fragging you through it. His own servo reaching around and finding your spike to milk through it too makes Jazz think he might have to have the sound you make in response grafted right into his main frame.
His hips slow eventually and Jazz feels like he’s gonna slip down somewhere deep in his own data banks and maybe not come out of it. Your holes a mess of his transfluid- spilling down and on your table from his own enthusiasm. His own frame very uppity on the fact he’d just put that much effort into railing you into your own table. HUD giving him warnings about turning his own fans higher and Jazz just laughs huffy. He turns them higher and watches your own servos twitch against the tables edge you’re still gripping like a lifeline.
Then Jazz almost completely pulls out of you- making sure to focus in on your valve still fluttering around him. And how more of his transfluid starts spilling out of your valve. Your own spike twitching beneath you heavy, pressing against your only table and the small puddle of transfluid there. Before he slides back home with a purpose. Loving the way you sound for him when he does it.
Jazz had a good- ah, he didn’t know- a couple gigs of data worth of recording space open in his saved recordings slots. And baby he’s so sparkdamn happy you’re willing to help him fill them.
No one tells you how hard it is writing gang bangs. Like, writing threesomes can be tricky enough, but anymore than that and I want you to smite me.
Truthfully I did this to myself, but when they all share pronouns too??? I’m fighting for my LIFE trying to remember whose servos are where, whose doing what, and whose on what sides 😭
I got notes and tabs open to remind myself.
The things I do because this idea slaps and I’m going feral.
“Responsible” GN Autobot Reader x various, Mainly Ratchet, Wheeljack, Hoist, Perceptor. [Smut Scenario]
Summary: Reader gets their obsolete heat protocols triggered during a battle. Horny shenanigans follow with some of the Autobots trying to be responsible.
G1 characters: Ratchet, Wheeljack, Hoist, Perceptor. (Various other Autobots and Decpticons are also mentioned here at the start)
Genre/Theme: Smut Scenario 🔞
Warnings: MDNI, Heat cycles and the other horny nonsense it usually entails, Voyeurism, Interface toys.
Pronouns: You, Your, Yours
Notes: Starts Ratchet pov and goes to Wheeljack for the most of the smut. The start of this is absolute shenanigans I will not lie to you, Spike/Valve terms used for Bot Reader, The science and Medical team on the Ark trying REAL hard not to be perverts. (They only partially succeed)
“Ratchet please-!”
“No! Get your heat ridden aft back on that berth now!” Ratchet barks out and you mutter curses the whole way back to the medical slab in the back of the medical bay. When you get there you huff and drag the privacy curtain back closed.
Rachet pinches the space between his optics and sighs harsh. His plating loosening a touch afterwards in exhaustion. What exactly else were they supposed to do about this entire mess?
It had started like any other battle via whatever new Decepticon scheme it was this month. That being the machine they’d built that exploded after you pressed the fail safe. Right before it had a chance to fire a high pressurized blast directly into the closest human city. The formula they’d used for such a high level destructive weapon ment a large and aggressive amount of energy discharge when it did explode.
And unfortunately the exact backyard mixture they’d used had a rather unfortunate effect on your frame.
Megatron had grabbed you first, dragging your limp frame upwards to use you as a hostage- Optimus stopping his failed dash for your frame to try and figure his next course of action. Megatron was in the middle of gloating and goading Optimus when he adjusted his grip on your frame and- according to Optimus- you moaned. Loud and unabashedly.
They both froze at the very obviously obscene sound and balked at your still limp frame.
Megatron jerked and stared wide opticed down at your slowly twitching frame for some reason Optimus couldn’t discern- and no sooner was Megatron shot in the helm by Powerglide flying over which sent him down and you tumbling out of his grasp. Optimus rushed and dove for your frame scooping you up and running back for cover under the sudden blaster fire. And Apparently -again according to Optimus- you almost made him trip and fall flat on his faceplate when your glossia abruptly lapped against his windshield glass. Your em field pulsing hard in want against him and the urge for anything he was willing to give you- suddenly had him assume this was what made Megatron act that way-!
Optimus had to wrestle you off of him after that with an increasing embarrassment, because every touch from him had you making rather- racy sounds in response. You had also started begging Optimus for some ahem- “Special overtime.” was the phrase Ratchet manged to get out of Optimus. Optimus did a rather quick scan of your frames internal status while you squirmed in his hold- and realized it was the explosions fault for your behavior. The abundance of energy had your virus protocols scrambling everything to dispel every ounce of heightened charge immediately as fast as it could.
Which kick started up now active “Heat” Protocols which they didn’t even realize you had-! They weren’t exactly common and were rarely activated for obvious reasons! And that had your array set as high as it possibly could get leveled too. With you attempting to get that charge out as fast as you could. Even if that was by clinging onto Optimus while his optics brightened and he was trying to dodge blaster fire. Blaster fire that lessened when bots had stopped firing to instead gawk at the loud and horny attempt you were making on your own leader. Leader who was obviously floundering and failing to get you to stop feeling him up in the middle of the battlefield.
Optimus had made it back to some of the others and Inferno had grabbed you to help get you off of Optimus. You let go of Optimus finally and instead turned your attention onto Inferno.
You shocked everyone via not waiting or asking to lock Inferno into an open mouthed kiss. Shoving your glossia in Inferno’s mouth while already trying to frot against him- Inferno’s siren sounded off in a flustered panic and Optimus had to hastily explain you weren’t exactly in control of yourself. And seemed to be under the effects of obsolete heat protocols being triggered by the energy explosion. Red Alert had to pull you off of Inferno only nearly dropping you, his frame not made to carry other mechs like Inferno or the medics were.
Taking advantage of the slightly lost grip, you just turned your greedy servos upon Red Alert instead. You didn’t hesitate to lap your glossia over the edge of one of his helm sensors. Ratchet could have been back at The Ark and Ratchet still would’ve heard the embarrassed scream that came out of their security director. Inferno had to just yank you back off Red Alert. While Red Alerts sensors were left sputtering sparks, his optics bright, and muttering incoherently.
Which had only lead to a game of pushing you onto another Autobot when your horny attention and advances got to be too much for one of them. Ratchet had tried to get a hold of you then since you were impaired and needed help sooner than later. But he kept getting blocked by blaster fire or other battlefield insanity.
And then you had gotten grabbed by Breakdown when Wildrider slammed directly into Hoist, who had a hold of you at the time and they’d all tensed. Ratchet cursed knowing they’d use you as a hostage-
Breakdown yelped when you didn’t even hesitate in turning your heat driven perversions onto the unprepared Stunticon. Your servos grabbing at his pauldron tires and squeezing was enough for Breakdown to panic- and try to get you off of him instead of trying to hold onto you. When you tried to kiss him Breakdown screamed and fell with you already clambering on top of him.
Dead End had to pull you off of Breakdown and the cycle of perversion only continued with the Decepticons now involved in your heat ridden haze.
A few of the cons actually didn’t freak out and did try and use the opportunity to take advantage of you- only to either be hit by an Autobot or even one of their own faction members telling them to get it together. But finally- finally Ratchet managed to grab a hold of you after Brawn slammed into Motormaster’s helm and Ratchet made sure to keep a hold of you- even when Decepticons tried to grab you for hostage purposes- and even more unsavory ones.
The cons finally pulled back when Optimus threw Megatron through a wall and he called for retreat.
And now Ratchet was stuck guarding the entrance to medical from you and from any other sparkdamn idiot who thought they might just “help” you with your little heat issue. He’d grabbed Sideswipe by the back of the neck and thrown him out when he tried to sneak past him. He’s also stared down Smokescreen of all bots, who froze seeing Ratchet and tried to play it off as inquiring about you. Ratchet just told him to waltz his aft back to his habsuite.
But no- it couldn’t have just been the Autobots being morons- Skywarp had decided to warp into the Ark and sneak around only to be caught by Grimlock- which had the Dinobots all chasing him out of The Ark. The Dinobots leaving a trail of destruction behind them as they went. After that the Aerial bots were set to patrol the Ark's surroundings and no sooner than a few klicks ended up in an aerial dog fight with the coneheads.
Hound by chance caught the Stunticons on the other opposite area by the base. Which thankfully the Dinobots were still hunting for Skywarp near by and promptly helped fight off the sudden appearance of Menasor.
Megatron even had the sparkdamn audacity to video call Optimus to talk- Talk of “so graciously offering” to a limited ceasefire for the duration of your sudden heat if Optimus let them “borrow” you.
That bucket helmed jackaft was lucky Ratchet wasn’t in the room for that call because he’d of ripped him a new afterburner. Though Prowl and Optimus apparently didn’t hesitate to dress him down for the nerve of the request.
Ratchet was old enough he’d had a few fleeting conversations with a few bots that had heat protocols. And he’d felt the light ever encompassing waves that their em fields would give off when the protocols were active. He had asked a few questions to the first bot he’d met with them. Wanting to know how to assist if he had to help treat a bot with it.
Ratchet was told it was like your frames on fire and you can’t think or focus on almost anything other than trying to satisfy the heat in your array. Also that the first few heats were unimaginably more difficult than the later ones. The mech he’d been talking to had said on his first heat he’d interfaced with at least five different bots in a single lunar cycle… and he had done that for multiple lunar cycles sequentially. But the mech was also in the middle of a heat cycle while talking with Ratchet. And despite the em field that was heated and almost addicting- The mech had been managing it well anyway. Seeming mostly annoyed by the entire thing as opposed to well… you in your first heat right now.
You’d already tried and failed to get into Ratchets array panel more times than he could count. Desperation not diminished in the slightest due to your overcharged array and obsolete code running in your frames make up. You’d tried flirting, to asking, to begging him to help you- and it was driving Ratchets stress levels through the sparkdamn roof! The last thing Ratchet would want for any of his patients was to keep them suffering but- you were impaired and couldn’t make rational decisions at the moment.
As far as Ratchet knew he couldn’t trust you to not run out into the woods and pop your panel for whatever con happened to be the closest- let alone make a correct judgment of consent.
Ratchet groaned when his com pinged, fully expecting to be alerted of yet another failed attempt from the Decepticons. But Ratchet was pleasantly surprised by the message in his com.
“Have a possible solution for their array. Can you bring ‘em to the lab?”
Wheeljack messaged back finally about trying to find a way to break you out of your heat. Perceptor and Hoist were also assigned to help- and also assure Wheeljack not blow anything up in the mean time. Ratchet looked at the closed privacy curtain, his audials catching what he knew was you again self servicing trying to get some type of relief.
Ratchet approached and pulled the curtain aside to be met with you on your side and three of your own digits shoved into your own valve, array utterly soaking wet with pre lubricants. Spike heavy and twiching, already leaking a small puddle of pre lubricant on the medical slab. Ratchets optic ridge only twitched having seen you in almost every compromising position in these past few days.
Almost.
“Up. We’re going to the lab.” Ratchet stepped forward but you only groaned and shoved your digits further inside your valve. Your valve mesh easily parting due to your own arousal to take the intrusions even deeper.
“Why?” You mumbled and huffed, your plating tensing and fluffing over the abundance of over stimulation you were in.
“We may have a fix for your heat. Wheeljack wants me to bring you to the lab.”
“Don’t wanna…” You mumbled like some pouting youngling- and Ratchet can feel his optic ridge crease in annoyance.
Ratchet was very aware you were in a- delicate state and that state made it hard for you to do much else other than think of fragging or getting fragged. That energy in your frame could be partially discharged with another system or in this case another frame. It didn’t necessarily need to be someone else’s spike or valve.
Ratchet was really going to have to give you an inch here so you’ll help yourself, wasn’t he?
Huffs and your other soft noises drowned out much else in the room.
“If- you behave on the way over to the lab and keep your panel closed the entire way there- You’ll get a reward afterwards... And is will be for your array.” Ratchet made sure to stress. Your frame perks and your optics now focused to lock directly onto his.
You realize he’s serious and immediately roll over on your front and pull your digits out of yourself. “Ill be good-!”
Ratchet hopes you’re right! If he had to drag you off another bot after releasing you from the room he was going to make you know exactly how mad he is at you.
-
Perceptor had came over to help Ratchet in transporting you to the lab and he met you both right outside the medbay. Your designation leaves him at the sight of you “Salutations- How have you been fairing over your latent heat protocols being activated?” He slightly tilted his helm, definitely trying to ask for educational purposes.
Your plating twitched and your optics zero’d in on Perceptor. Your gaze slowly dragging down his frame. Ratchet mentally prepared himself to inevitably having to drag you off of Perceptor. But you didn’t pounce onto the microscope.
“Struggling.” You said blunt. “So Percy- Wanna frag till I can’t think about anything but your spike hitting my ceiling node?” Oh, for Primus sake-!
“Oh my-!” Perceptor recoiled a bit and his optics widened and brightened a good few levels when he comprehended what you’d just said.
“What did I say about behaving?!” Ratchet grabbed you by a gap in your chassis armor.
“I am behaving, I’m staying by you and keeping my panel closed. I'm just flirting.”
“That’s not flirting-! That’s you propositioning him!”
“Well you didn’t say I couldn’t do that either.” Your optics darted back to Perceptor “Or would you want my spike-” Ratchet started shaking you before you could finish what you were saying with your filthy no filter heated processor.
Perceptor reset his vocalizor loudly and cycled his optics. “I am- well aware of the effects a heat can have on a bot- let alone the tribulations the first heat will inflict upon a frame. So I…” Perceptor crossed his arms. “Shall not fault you for the inappropriate outbursts from you that are clearly driven by your heat.”
“Great so knowing I don’t have to feel bad about this- Percy, has anyone ever told your red would look lovely stained pink-?” Ratchet grabbed onto you with his other servo too and shook you harder this time. Perceptor’s optics brightened further and he raised a fist up in front of his own mouth while his optic ridge lightly creased.
When Ratchet stopped shaking you he scoffed pushing you forward. “Walk you overzealous heat ridden turbo fox.” Perceptor nodded at Ratchet and turned to cover the front while you all walked to the lab.
You thankfully did behave and kept your panel closed for the duration of the trip to the lab.
-
“Do you really think this will work?” Hoist muttered staring at the invention they’d made together.
“I mean it’s all we got right now besides handling it the uh- ol' fashioned way.” Wheeljack shrugged “Worth a try, ain’t it?” Really the worst that could happen is it wouldn’t help any, then they’d all just have to go back to the drawing board and think up something else to help you.
The lab door opened and Wheeljack glanced to see you being lead in by Perceptor and Ratchet. They make their way over to Hoist and him as soon as you guys saw ‘em.
“Hey, how ya doing?” Wheeljack smiled at you.
“Like I need to overload.” You bluntly remarked. “At least staring at Perceptor's aft on the way over here was a good distraction.”
Perceptor sounded like he’d choked on his own oral lubricant before he covered his faceplate with his own servo and looked anywhere but you. While Ratcheet looked like he was a nano-klick away from grabbing you and forcibly shorting your vocalizor.
“Well! I have great news then-!” Wheeljack clapped once and held his servos out towards- his new invention in the form of the false spike he had sitting upwards on the table. “Me, Hoist, And Perceptor think you might just need to overload enough times to get your frame to stop thinking it needs to burn out your interface protocols. So we-”
“Mostly Wheeljack-” Perceptor murmured still refusing to meet your gaze- And Wheeljack gets the embarrassment to a degree but c’mon! Being embarrassed about it wasn’t gonna help ya any!
“Yes mostly me designed this- But it’s basically a false spike with some neat extras. It throbs and twitches and even overloads fake lubricant to mimic transfluid.”
“And it’s got it’s own system set up so It will be able to respond and absorb some of the charge you’re putting out in your array because of the heat.” Hoist tacked on at the end.
“Is this why you wanted an immediate portion of the interface lubricant I keep in the medbay? For a frag toy?” Ratchet stared at him and Wheeljack knew it was the “I’m very disappointed in your current thought process and need to weld that fact into you with my optics.” Expression.
“Well, we were still work shopping a name for it but well- ha, that’s basically what it is. It’s just a basic design for a false spike and with one optimal addition for a spike if you wanna also service that at the same- woah-!” Wheeljack stopped short when you pounced directly onto the table on all fours.
“Finally-!” You cursed and your modesty panel snapped back- Your own pre lubricants immediately started cutting slick tracks down your own inner thighs and even dripping right onto the table top. Your spike pressurizing so quickly Wheeljack was wondering how you even kept your panel closed to begin with.
Peceptor sounded like he’d choked on his own glossia this time “G-Good gracious-!”
Ratchet said your designation sharp, “Get off the-!” Ratchet didn’t finish before you got your valve over the spike and Ratchet grunted when the toys head slipped into your hole and you dropped down the toys length fast. “Oh, for the love of-”
“Oh dear-! Not too fast you might hurt yourself!” Hoist tried to caution you, but Wheeljack was stuck staring when your thighs touched the back of your own pedes. Your valve almost flat against the table top and taking almost the entire thing near instantly. When the false spike bottomed out your mouth fell open and your glossia touched your bottom derma- a deep groan that sounded like it probably came out of your spark chamber tumbled out.
Your servos found purchase against the edge of the table and you didn’t waste any time pulling back off the false spike. “Frag- yeah, yeah-!” Wheeljack watched you start bouncing yourself up and back down the toys length, your heavy spike bopping in the open air every jerk back down. So he’s obviously focused enough that he can see the drop of pre lubricant that falls off your spike head and hits the table top to join in making a mess, along with the rest of your fluids.
Your spike- right! “Uh- right the other attachment!” Wheeljack cleared his vocalizor, remembering why they’d done all this in the first place and tries to ignore his own array trying to kick start a charge itself. He pulls the other part of their plan out of his subspace, “Tada! It’s a spike sleeve! And its got some uh- real neat settings.”
You actually whimpered in response “Wheeljack-!” And Wheeljack feels his optics brighten and his finials flash.
“Alright- You don’t gotta beg or nothin’!” Wheeljack closes the distance and tries to put the toy on your throbbing spike- but you just keep bouncing on the false spike! It doesn’t help that you keep preemptively rutting your hips, making him miss- and he ends up dragging teasing frots of the outside of the toy against your spike. You don’t seem to mind the clumsiness- just gasping and cursing from the limited friction on your spike.
“Wheeljack just- here!” A red servo grasps over his own thats around the spike sleeve. Ratchet steadies Wheeljack's servo and Ratchets free servo grabs your hip and tries to still you- Ratchet says your designation with a bitten curse. “Hold still.” Ratchet uses his “no arguments” voice and you actually do sorta listen to him and slow down. You don’t stop but with how you were slamming down on the toy Wheeljack's surprised you were even doing that!
Wheeljack watches as Ratchet helps him line up the sleeve then helps him slide the toy onto your spike- You grunt and then whine when the sleeve registers your spike and immediately tries to milk you for everything you’ve got. Well at least it works-
Wheeljack gasps when you bounce with more force and the toy almost slides right off your spike entirely. Wheeljack forces the sleeve back down your spike so it doesn’t slip off and you groan openly when the sleeve touches your pelvis. Your spike tip peaking out of the other open end of the sleeve teasingly.
“Wheeljack- How exactly is this supposed to stay?” Ratchet asks, this time ready to help Wheeljack to keep you from bucking the sleeve right off the next slide back down the toy spike you take. The sleeve making a sound after being slathered in your spikes pre lubricant.
“Uh- Well…” Wheeljack didn’t really think you’d be this uh- drenched with fluids.
“Wheeljack-!”
“Sorry-! Uh foresight and all that-!” Wheeljack did not need to look to know Ratchet was glaring at him. Which was good because Wheeljack was a little bit caught up watching you. Wheeljack was short enough and with you on the table he can clearly see your stretched valve clench down on the toy and he can also see the false spike throb which only makes you curse.
“Is it open at the end?” Hoist asks and he’s closer- so Wheeljack glances up and sees Hoist peeking over Ratchets pauldron to stare down at the toys and how they were both working your array. His visor just slightly brighter than it usually would be- If they were doing literally anything else Wheeljack would just think it was nothing. But instead Wheeljack can see Hoist's plating twitch when you moan on your next slide back off the toys girth. “I thought we'd decided on a closed model. Won’t that-… make a mess when they overload?”
“It was- A practical design choice for- well” Perceptor's voice is real close to his audial so Wheeljack can only assume he’s leaning over Wheeljack's pauldron to keep the view. “Clean up for the toy mostly- also so the sleeve wont overheat on accident.”
Wheeljack watches your spike tip kiss the back open end of the toy at the mention of it- trying to keep his servo steady so it won’t slide right off. Because if Ratchet weren’t holding his own grip over Wheeljacks- Well... Wheeljack would’ve probably worked to milk your spike at the same pace as your desperate hips were fragging yourself back down the false spike.
Speaking of which the toy actually slips out of your valve on your next slide up and your hips jut making the false spike slide past your aft. “Frag- frag-!” You try and reposition the spike back inside you on the next slide down- and the toy doesn’t catch on your hole and slides against your inner thigh making you whine. “Please- please-! Please-” You start begging and thankfully someone else steps up to help before him. So Wheeljack doesn’t have to feel guilty about being so hot and bothered and also a pervert for trying to get the toy back into your soaked valve.
Hoist was thankfully that pervert instead. “Hold on just-” Hoist rests his modified arm on your knee, the barrel of his attachment almost brushing against Ratchets servo- (which Wheeljack just lately realized was still gripping your hip) Hoist's servo grabs the base of the toy. Than he angles the spike when you lift your hips, your helm instinctively tilting to see the movement between your thighs. The spike head slots between your valve mesh and catches on the rim of your hole.
“Yes- yeah!” You moan loud but the sound still isn’t loud enough to drown out the sound of the toy sinking back into your soaked valve. Hoist grunts when you sink back down fast enough he can’t pull his servo back yet and you end up sitting down right on his palm. Hoist getting a full grip of your aft when the toy runs out of length.
Hoist does pull his servo away ....after three more full drops of your hips anyway. Hoist's gun muzzle was still on your thigh though-
Yeah, Wheeljack’s kinda glad they were taking care of this now. He could only imagine what would’ve happened if they’d left you loose in The Ark like this. Another greedy drag of your hips has the toy bottoming back out in your seemingly insatiable valve yet again. The toy utterly soaked in your own fluids and slick drenching your inner thighs. The mess you’ve made out of the table top and your own valve right here for anyone to see.
Wheeljack can’t exactly stop himself from imaging you bouncing down one of their actual spikes, when he thinks about them not being quick enough to stop you from going off on your horny lonesome. Maybe getting up to it with one of them and it turning into one big frag session for anyone that wanted to join. Wheeljack doesn’t exactly think all the other Autobots would have the same level of will power as them. Though even with that said-
Wheeljack can feel Perceptor's own em field that’s just coaxing against his own frame due to how close they are to each othet right now- and he can blatantly feel the arousal peeking out from it. Wheeljack hears an audible swallow on his side from the other when you moan again. He also hears Perceptor's plating softly clink like he doesn’t know what to do with himself.
Ratchet wasn’t glaring at him anymore optics focusing on your over active array- optics flickering from spike to your valve. And maybe he was imaging it, but Wheeljack swears Ratchet’s servo over his own starts speeding up how quickly they were dropping the sleeve down your spike.
Wheeljack’s optics follow Ratchets other servo on your hip to the muzzle of Hoists gun attachment still resting heavy on your thigh. And Wheeljack knows he’s not imagining Hoist’s muzzle trying to follow the rhythm you’d set. His modified arm almost lightly urging you down every time you sank back down the toy.
Yeah... at least Wheeljack’s not the only perv here.
You groan openly and Wheejacks rather abruptly dragged right out of his observations when you still and paw at the table and start overloading unabashedly. Ratchet jerks to the side to avoid getting your transfluid on him. Thick heavy ropes of your transfluid shoot out of the gap in the top of the spike sleeve with every throb of your spike. Pink streaked out onto the floor and on part of the table and- oh yeah the toy’s features!
You bite down on your bottom derma and keen when the false spike registers the overload and throbs, spilling lubricant right into your waiting valve. Lubricant and your valves slick treks out of your hole and onto the table top making an even bigger mess. When your overload stops racking your frame your mouth opens and you start panting rapid vents. The air near your mouth fogging from the heat of your own frame and your glossia dusting your bottom derma. A stray string of drool rolls down your own throat cables. Expression blissed out of it and obviously satisfied.
Wheeljack registers wet on his digit and looks down at the sleeve.
There's a stray string of your transfluid that rolled down your spike tip and down the edge of the sleeve- and down to where Wheeljack's servo was resting. Wheeljack can feel Ratchet's servo twitch over his own when you groan again.
And Ratchet says he wasn’t the responsible kind...
Had an idea kinda based off of your "Thief" series, mainly from PT2
The Bot Reader just treating the cassettes really well, despite still being a little off-put by Soundwave.
Like, Lazerbeak just perching on the arm of the reader and getting little beak scritches and Soundwave thinking "Primus I wish that was me" when replaying the footage.
Also! If you ever continue the Thief series, would love to see something with Prowl! Keep up the awesome writing! (｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡
Hi this is the thing I deleted when it was already edited fully ready to post. Good. God. I hate myself. Please enjoy so my suffering was not in vein. But i do have some yandere Prowl stuff planned for later fyi
"Leverage" GN BOT Reader x Yandere Soundwave + The cassettes
Summary: Soundwave finds himself struggling with the ever growing insensate fixation on your unknowing self.
G1 Character(s): Soundwave and his cassettes, (Buzzsaw, Lazerbeak, Ravage, Rumble, Frenzy)
Genre/Theme: Yandere yearning
Warnings: Yandere, The more unsavory canon parts of Soundwaves character
Pronouns: You, Your, Yours,
Notes: GN Decepticon reader
Soundwave had a virus. He must have.
He knew logically he did not. His personal diagnostics always running back clear. And Hook's last assessment had returned that he was in optimal condition. But Soundwave also knew that what was wrong with him wouldn't show up on any of the usual scans.
His spark twinged in demand to be satisfied and his servos fisted when he watched you walk out of the canteen while nursing an energon cube.
You'd gradually and slowly gotten more receptive to the idea of his cassettes. Primarily Lazerbeak, Buzzsaw and most recently even Ravage. Your gaze had shifted to an unassuming stare as opposed to a glare when you'd spot one of them. Then It was actually Buzzsaw who'd broken the physical barrier first. Soundwave saw how It had happened after Buzzsaw returned so quickly he nearly pried Soundwave’s glass open with his own beak. Before lately pinging Soundwave the mental urge to dock. But his cassette was in the process of gifting you another one of his spoils from the last battlefield.
Buzzsaw had crushed two different colored plates, he'd ripped off two separate Autobots, together. And made something small that he was proud of before giving it to you. You paused when Buzzsaw landed on a table near you and hopped forward with his gift in his beak. He dropped it and waited for you to wordlessly come get it from him. You did, now used to the small items being delivered to you from his cassette. You worried your digit over one of the smoother edges of the piece as you examined it. Buzzsaw was busy mentally preening himself on the fact you'd actually taken the time to do just that, instead of subspaceing it immediately like his prior gifts.
And then he stopped dead still when the back of your knuckles lightly- and tentatively brushed over the top of his helm. Your em field along with your touch was warm. Buzzsaw stared up at you and you slowly murmured a “thanks” before turning and leaving him by himself. The light cautious touch of your servo made tingling shivers run down Soundwave’s own helm when he relived the moment. After that Buzzsaw put more effort into his gifts instead of delivering you his raw materials. You eventually pushed your digit under Buzzsaw's chin and scratched when he'd gifted you something. Your em field soft against his face- His plating loosened and his cassette had to physically fight the urge to thrill in response. Buzzsaw’s embarrassment was so heavy Soundwave felt it through the bond across The Victioy when it had initally happened.
Lazerbeak was next- he'd taken a couple of shots at Blitzwing when the triple changer was getting much closer then he should ever feel comfortable getting. Especially with you. After the quick scuffle that occurred because of it (and you slamming your fist into Blitzwing’s faceplate) you'd sighed. And rubbed the top the Lazerbeak’s helm with a quick thanks. Lazerbeak's plating fluffed quick before he could stop it and he coo'd. You paused at the sound and arched an optic ridge while wordlessly staring at his cassette. Lazerbeak was not nearly as flustered as Buzzsaw had been. But Soundwave could still feel the slight burn in Lazerbeak’s optics when he'd docked all the same.
And it took a long long while for Ravage to eventually break the barrier next. He'd had to take pointers from Buzzsaw and Lazerbeak. But eventually he'd managed in infiltrate regardless. Ravage had been near you again after he'd delivered a datapad from Megatron to you. He was doing his best to be non threatening. Not staring directly at you but doing his best to seem approachable. You glanced at him and Ravage’s tail wiggled in apprehension. You looked back down at the datapad he'd delivered and sighed. Your servo slowly and cautiously hovered over the top of his helm before you gave him one good stroke with a "thank you." Ravage turned and pranced his way down the hall and back to Megatron and Soundwave.
Ravage almost vaulted his frame directly into Soundwave’s middle before he could open his dock compartment with how quickly the cassette returned.
And Soundwave was glad.
It was good. Very good. They were actually becoming successful in integrating into your normal day to day. You were starting to treat his cassettes amicably even. The elation over every little touch or non aggressive act or action taken towards them was another victory.
But now the excitement was being coupled together with the ugly urging of jealousy.
The feeling settling in with a stranglehold around his spark. Soundwave knowing fully well the jealousy was not just his own. His other cassettes becoming just as urging whenever another one of them received your attention no matter how mild it was. Rumble and Frenzy were as desperate as Soundwave was. The slow warming of yourself still only fleetingly shared with the three beastial bots. They all wanted you. Soundwave wanted you. He didn't just want the small amiable gestures.
Soundwave needed all of you.
Soundwave knew how to get bots to do what he wanted.
How he kept his position as third in command in the Decepticon ranks.
…
Soundwave needed good blackmail on you.
Soundwave has never experienced what it is like to fully and truly own a bot. Having good blackmail on a bot was close. The desperation and gritted but still followed obedience from bots who would kill him otherwise. Following his every order because they'd known exactly what would be waiting in term for them if they disobeyed. Soundwave needed to own you. He needed to own you in a way he hadn't been able to with any bot he'd managed to catch faltering before.
But he also needed to be yours.
The fleeting and brief moments of contact you'd initiated with his cassettes almost felt like a mocking pipe dream. Tempting- taunting him. Soundwave now knows what your servos feel like. What your digits felt like. The cautiously light but warm touch of your em field.
Soundwave’s spark pinged with it's inescapable urgency once more. His servos clenched tight enough to ache and the footage of you thanking Lazerbeak replayed behind his visor.
Soundwave vented deeply when Frenzy reported which hallway of The Victory you were taking back to your habsuite. His plating relaxing a touch when he remembered where he was.
Soundwave patched himself through to all of his cassettes before saying your designation and then giving his order.
"Find blackmail."
Frenzy and Rumble snickered while Buzzsaw echo’d a low humming sound that Soundwave knew he only made when he had prey in his sights. A quick sound from Lazerbeak and Ravage signaled an affirmative.
Though they hadn't found anything of use yet- that doesn't necessarily mean there wouldn't be anything they couldn't use.
You were all Decepticons after all. There would be something Soundwave could use to his advantage. Even if they had to wait or dig for it.
He'd own you regardless. They'd own you regardless. He'd just needed an "in" and Soundwave would be able to finally treat you like he wanted to.
Soundwave would be able to finally have you like he needed to.
