“ stupid primus, stop picking on me ” transformers concubus au
cybertronian darling! x yan! transformers
nsfw (× dubious consent—nonconsensual in some parts)/valveplug/18+!
mtmte/idw 𖹭 brainstorm, tailgate, tarn
concubus! yan! brainstorm has never needed his concubus abilities to get him anywhere in life. still, they're an undeniable asset. make the product. get the money. wipe the buyer's memory if he thinks they'll snitch on him. he doesn't have any qualms about unabashedly taking what he wants from life forms. whether that be information or transfluid. he is also diffident of tender intimacy.
you were another mark. he was hurt, relatively so, and you helped. he was going to seduce (use) you, but something stopped him. your touch wasn't selfish. you risked your spark to help him. so he may as well humor you a little. use your resources, then wipe your pretty processor, as he's done to so many others.
he does. don't get it twisted.
but he comes back and is your savior now after getting you out of an impossible situation. your confused expression is so cute. it's almost like the one you make when you overload. he slips things into the conversation that are giveaways. this new mech knows things about you that he shouldn't. if you ever get too wise, he'll lull you into complacency again.
he tells himself that all he's doing is settling a score—a debt you forced him to have by virtue of being you.
however, his servos grab at you needily, intent on not letting go until he's had his fill. your soft touch is what he craves. it's what he'll erase everything else in your life but him for. he's never wanted like this. like a malfunctioning machine that needs one more turn to get its final cog in and working. he wonders if this is how his victims feel. more importantly, if you feel his way towards him.
you become his travel companion. and his favorite test subject. at the very least, the inventions he tests on you are for your pleasure, not pain (most of the time.) he has to keep you in line somehow. making you a perfect subby masochist is how he does it. keeping most of your memories intact has proved more useful to him, so he'd rather not continue to tweak your circuits.
he's the best of the best. he has no reason to be nervous about accidentally erasing the part of you that he's (in love with)—that he finds advantageous.
there's nothing better than entering his lab and finding you being fragged silly by something he created with his two talented servos. nothing could ever be as good as the real thing, his spike, but your arousal helps him concentrate, and the paranoid part of him enjoys stockpiling the pabulum you create for him.
concubus! yan! tailgate is as delusional as they get. he thinks his natural charm and attractive aura means everyone loves him no matter what. he's never had trouble making friends or attracting berthmates. he has had trouble not being taken advantage of, but that's a minority of his experiences. so with all that, you must love him! every glance and fleeting touch is a reminder that you're his sparkmate. it isn't that he purposefully bumps into you or is always engaging with you to inhance your attraction to him. no... tailgate would never... okay, yeah. he does.
he quite often accidentally gets you horny and makes you overload behind your panel. he just doesn't think to control his abilities when you're around. it's instinctive so it must mean it's good, yeah? besides, he's giving you pleasure! there's no need to be embarrassed. he'd love nothing more than to have you slide back your interface panel so he could clean you up himself. he's really good with his glossa and servos! everyone tells him that.
he's insanely possessive when other concubus are present. their charm tries to lead you away from his, even if it isn't purposeful. it leads to him nagging you for your attention, pulling at any limbs he can get a hold of to lead you away from them. he'll resort to his most devastating ability if you refuse to listen (about anything): pouting. it's impossible to focus when he starts doing so.
he immediately perks up when you finally give in and return your affections to him.
for obvious reasons your interactions with rodimus are limited. tailgate's possessiveness may be warranted around him. rodimus has been known to attract plenty of cybertronians that are already bonded and in monogamous relationships. so if he isn't even bonded to you yet (officially), you're super vulnerable to the prime's sex appeal!
after getting diagnosed with cybercrosis, he's super-duper attached to you. he's firm in his belief that he'll transfer over what's left in his spark right before he goes offline so you can become a concubus. even if he isn't thrilled at the idea of you having other romantic relationships outside of him, and maybe cyclonus, he knows it'll be for your own good. that way you'll always have him in you.
what he didn't expect is that cyclonus and you refused to let him fade away. he's never felt so loved. he was so adamant on making sure you could handle his death, seeing as how the fatality rate was a hundred percent, that he didn't think the both of you would work together non-stop to save him. by doing that, you unknowingly accepted his concubus bond. oopsies.
it isn't as if you should be upset or anything! he knew you'd come around eventually. you must have been planning it because what's more romantic than to save his life and bond yourself to him?
concubus! yan! tarn has always prided himself on his self-restraint. megatron made him the mech he is today, tamed his concubus nature and made him into something that was to be feared, not preyed upon. yet all training is muted when he laid his optics on you. he almost activated his outlier ability so he could seize everybody's spark but yours. then he could take you in peace. your frame trembling as he threatened you to give in. he didn't. he held his composure, but all he could envision was guzzling down your transfluid like a starving concubus.
perhaps that isn't far from the truth. his work doesn't permit him to play with his food, so he receives it pre-packaged. it's nothing like fresh supply, straight from the source.
tarn is nothing if not devoted. the decepticons have always come first. now you have to be part of the cause because that's the only way he can reconcile his feelings without betraying megatron or depriving himself of you.
it goes one of two ways.
if you're his superior, then he's your new lapdog. yes, he is ultimately loyal to megatron, but a leash can trade servos while the collar stays the same. his outlier ability is used on you sparingly, unless he's given permission otherwise, but he can't help but revel in momentarily breaking your composure. that flush on your faceplate combined with the arousal wafting off of you is irresistible. it makes him wet enough that he has to press his legs together, paranoid that lubricant will escape his sealed panel.
knowing he can make your spark hum gets him off. the one being he can explore his abilities with. he learns that he can do more than make a spark quiver or self-destruct. he can influence one's frame responses through their spark. he's learned what frequency makes you horny.
being tugged around while knowing that he isn't at risk of being offlined is equally tantalizing. you're someone he can blindly trust, right below megatron. you say "kill," and he executes your will unflinchingly. it's brutal in an attempt to impress you. he can't afford mistakes when he's working to feed off you.
he always sets the mood with music before taking your frame. he's always precise in his movements, careful in deciphering your wants and needs without you voicing them. you're a finely tuned instrument that he masterfully plays. each sound of yours is a note for him to savor as he plucks another string to hear it again.
when he hasn't quite earned you, he ends up humping you, mask off, as he promises that he'll listen to your every command before he releases.
if you're beneath him, an autobot, or a lowly traitor, then you may as well name him your purgatory. you will be trapped by his voice and servos till either of your sparks is snuffed out.
he waited till you were alone to capture you. you may be someone he is bound to offline, but he can push your name down the list as he makes use of you. a captive fresh supply of transfluid.
you are no longer what you were. you are subsistence.
he causes you dolor, then feasts on you till your frame gives out. he often invades your recharging processor, never letting you overload. whenever you've displeased him, he edges you until he finds that you're sufficiently apologetic. if that doesn't please him, then making your spark tremor in your chassis is sure to.
if you are good, very good, then he may move you to a chained-up state in either his office or habsuite. you will be in quite a compromising position for easy access. he expects you to speak only when spoken to. if you manage to behave and take his abuse well, then perhaps he'll think about giving you a privilege or two. you may be able to walk around or attend DJD meetings, chained up and muzzled, obviously. don't think that makes you any safer from him. he'll punish you in the hallway or in front of his entire crew so you know not to misuse what you have so graciously been given.
no one else acknowledges you, unless on the rare occasion tarn instructs them to. they are discouraged from even making optic contact with you, much less conversing. on the occasion, nickel tends to you. don't attempt to gain her pity. you may as well be a supply of energon she's making sure doesn't spoil—and, well, you are.
he has marked you since your first capture and will play with the idea of bonding you to him. it will happen. it isn't a privilege you've earned yet.
he is sure that you'll never escape. any traitors that would attempt to aid you in any way can be quickly taken care of. he's well connected, so you wouldn't be able to run far. others knowing that you're marked by him will make your chances of escaping and staying out exceptionally slim.
he never lets you forget who you belong to. you are a thing of pleasure. something that he needs to live. and you thrive off of his commands, especially one little word—overload.
transformers prime 𖹭 soundwave
concubus! yan! soundwave isn't a transformer that you'd believe to hold such a power. he doesn't seek connection. he controls, stalks, and takes. that's what makes him so menacing. you only realize he's obsessed with you after he has you in his grasp. a grasp that will never loosen, because he knows what happens to things that leave his optic sight.
he has always kept his concubus nature a tightly held secret: living off of others getting off to him, taking their essence, erasing their memories of him, and keeping tabs in case he has to seek them out again. despite all of the advantages of being a concubus, he sees the alienation in how he survives to be his biggest weakness.
if all other beings seek to dominate your kind, you must dominate them first.
he chooses you not because of your status or ability. he chooses you because you align with the compatibility algorithm he created. one would be quick to overlook you without a second thought, but soundwave is monitoring you more heavily than anyone else inside the decepticon ranks, besides starscream, but that's an unfortunate necessity.
he has entire banks of data stored pertaining to you, meticulously cataloged and encrypted so heavily that it'd take millions of years for the smartest cybertronian hacker to infiltrate them, only to see them erase themselves as if the data was nothing more than a mirage.
you become his main food source, with shockwave being secondary—seeing as how he managed to create a mutual agreement in the slim chance that innumerable factors come into play and you cannot satiate him for an amount of time.
he orders you to him under false pretenses. then explains what will happen and how you will comply. you wouldn't want him to release all the files he has on you, especially the ones that could indicate treason, or when you pleasured yourself. he takes stock of your entire frame in an isolated place, not for your comfort but for his protection. no passerby need be privy to this.
he uses his data cables to open your valve. he measures your spike and tests its dexterity. your intake is probed, so is your aft, your entire frame really—but your most sensitive parts are given extra attention. he lists your fertility and willingness as factors too. all the while he's recording the entire thing, taking snapshots so he can review them later.
he can sense you becoming aroused. as well as your shame because you don't think of him as a sexual being. he's also your superior, and here you are trying not to pant or drip lubricant. it's normal. you should know that. but he would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't taking his time, perhaps to an irresponsible extent, just to get you riled up. only to leave you aching and ready but alone so he can record your reactions and take any samples you leave. yes, he has tasted your transfluid before. you aren't always thorough in cleaning up your messes; a sloppiness that shouldn't be tolerated but happens to be convenient for him.
the room he monitors from now requires multiple forms of identification instead of a code and a quick scan. this is because he quite often has your frame in use. the fuller you are of him, the better he performs. any data cables not in use are buried inside you. he's had specialized ports installed on your frame just for him. if you aren't being penetrated in multiplicity, then soundwave must be incredibly busy. you become an extension of him, almost like one of his cassettes. you know pleasure, refueling, and rest, but not much else. clear thought would allow you to scheme. you are much more useful to him blissfully submissive. if he could mould you to his frame, he would.
transformers: super-god masterforce 𖹭 diver, lander, metalhawk, phoenix
concubus! yan! diver is the reason stories of sirens exist, partially. as much as he yearned for a cybertronian sparkmate, he had to settle for surviving on organics. unlike any concubus aquatic pretender destron counterparts, diver never harmed those he lulled into the ocean. he worshipped the humans he seduced, mindful of their fleshy nature.
he has to admit that his hunger was never fully satiated, even when he interfaced with his fellow cybertron pretenders. his spark yearned for something more. hundreds of thousands of years on earth, and he didn't know what until he met you. you were part of an in-space unit and, at chromedome's request, came to help the cybertrons on earth defeat the destrons. if seeing you for the first time and feeling buzzed off your e.m. field wasn't enough, learning that your alt-mode functioned best in the water was all he needed to confirm that you were made to be his.
throughout his time on earth, he's preserved their oceans. now all he can think about is how much he wants to defile you in one of them.
his easy-going personality is easy to be disarmed by. he isn't isolating you from the others. he just needs a lot of help, and you're a new pair of servos that can do just that. he often forgets that you can still sense his human frame's reaction to you, even if it's somewhat muted. he plays it off as normal biology. you don't know organics, so who are you to argue? him drooling after staring at you for too long is just a quirk of his. he truly doesn't mean to come off as creepy. it's just that he hasn't seen his own kind habitually in their root mode for such a long time.
he insists that you work with him at the ocean research institute of california. you both can dispel water-related problems together!
he will info dump for hours on end to you about the sea and its creatures. it always ends up with him in his root mode, rutting against you while he struggles to think of words to form on his glossa. he won't stop unless you tell him to, so he keeps babbling and overloading and getting high off you. he's a big whiner when he gets lost in you. he's popped his voice box more than once because of it.
sunbathing with him almost always ends up with him spooning you, slipping his spike into you, or your spike into his valve. he loses it if both his array parts are being used at the same time.
other times he'll coax you into the ocean. he only gives when he interfaces with you in the ocean. he'll go as far as to have a conversation with you where he wants you restrained so he can do as he likes.
fisting and stretching are his other two favorite pastimes. he always makes sure you're adequately prepped. he also finds that the transfluid you produce when being stretched tastes the yummiest. seeing your valve being able to take his entire servo will make him overload while his panel is still sealed. managing to get cybertronian sex toys onto earth to stretch you is—not easy, to say the least. but his status as a concubus makes it much easier. even if he somehow has to come up with a lie that he isn't going to be using them on you, the new cybertron on earth, who is also his comrade and who he is definitely not supposed to be fragging.
concubus! yan! lander is the epitome of pleasure. he was taken aback by humanity's capacity for it. the freedom in it that humans have been able to find, even during war, which is something he could not relate to until he learned from them.
his concubus allure extends far past his species. his human form is irresistible, leading to him constantly attracting lovers when not busy with battle. all of this still felt moot at the end of the day. like many other concubus know, no species can quench their hunger quite like their own. his hunger is far greater than other concubuses he's known, which makes it all the more torturous.
then he met you. a pretender who was only supposed to transport materials to them. he knew that he had to have you. he convinced command that your abilities would be far better suited on earth. they need backup anyway. you so easily slide into his amative hold. he so graciously helps acquaint you with your organic body, explaining to you the more carnal reasons as to why it's reacting the way it is around him.
no need to be shy.
he often invites you to his penthouse in new york city. he isn't subtle about his attraction to you but doesn't push it unless you show interest. he takes you nice and slow in front of one of his many windows, hoping someone out there will look up and make out your silhouettes. there is no shame in it. after you've been thoroughly fucked, he takes great care of you, pouring one of his vintage wines and offering you a glass.
he's determined to know all your forms intimately, especially your root one. there's nothing better than squeezing his valve around your spike or burying it into you as he holds your frame against his. there's so much earth to show you and plenty of places to frag.
you're often subjected to questions about your sexual preferences casually. he states that he's just curious. you both know he intends to turn those curiosities into servos-on experience. he never brings it up in polite company, unless murmuring them to you so you fluster. your embarrassed e.m. field is so irresistible. only when he's the cause of it.
he never really had an interest in bonding until he connected with you. marking? oh, absolutely, and he definitely leaves plenty of marks on you. still, the sentimentality of such a long process. having a conjunx. only you seem to fit into that role. you keep him from hungering, so much so that he'd bet he spends more time fragging you in every position than in active combat. his favorite position will always be elevated lotus.
considering he is the physically strongest out of the autobot pretenders, he's well experienced at keeping you in your place and mechhandling you. taming you is even better. controlling your pleasure drives him wild. submit and let him do what he needs. he may influence you to if you're hesitant. he knows you need it. you're apprehensive, but he'll prove all your skepticism extraneous.
training sessions with him often get hot and heavy. he insists they be private. he does actually attempt to train. you teach him things he didn't know. it's just that you smell so good—look so appealing. sparring with you feels inherently erotic.
trust him. he's better with his body in bed than on the battlefield. you've already experienced that. him being an engineer helps with wire play, which he is also quite fond of. he wants to tinker with your frame just a bit without your knowledge. to make you more sensitive.
you may become bonded to him and not even realize it until he explains it to you. he's so stimulating in presence that you don't realize the new things you're feeling are because of the bond. perhaps he purposefully made it that way. he can't take the chance to let his sparkmate escape. if you knew what truly goes on in his processor, you would've run while you still had the chance.
concubus! yan! metalhawk would choose you over humanity, which is his greatest shame but also his greatest pride. a cybertronian that strikes his spark deeper than the beauty of humanity...
you truly must be a blessing unto him. he's convinced.
a fellow pretender no less, put under his leadership by an off-earth cybertron commander. he isn't sure whether he wants to frag you in your human form or cybertronian form first. in the beginning, he only feels guilt. he should take his time to know you before daydreaming about all the ways he could lovingly take you, drinking from what you produce for him.
shuta immediately picks up on his crush and teases him relentlessly about it. the news spreads to the other headmaster juniors, and now they're playing matchmaker between you and him. you don't understand human dating rituals, thankfully, so for the most part, he can avoid the truth around you.
the other pretenders are more wary of metalhawk's sudden attachment to you. they know he's a concubus. they're in the middle of a great rise in evil. they can't afford their leader to be distracted by his biology.
he partners you with the other pretenders because he can't stop himself from trying to court you while you're in his presence. he needs to nuzzle onto you, taste your e.m. field and organic skin. he craves your metal frame against his, frotting against you, eating you out and sucking you off for so long that your transfluid is dribbling out of his intake.
it's more than that too. he wants to spikewarm while you speak about your past and what you want in your future. he craves the deepest and most depraved things hidden in your processor. all the while he whispers about how much he loves you, how you belong to him and he to you, the fact that he'll never let you go. if you pleaded with him, he would, and that terrifies him. the thought that you could abandon him on a whim.
his persuasive energy will invade your senses more frequently. he swears he doesn't mean it to! he needs it to be your choice, but his nature demands results instead of foolhardy patience.
he'd cut off his own wings if he began to need to trap you. he'd mutilate his frame till there was no lust left if it meant keeping your amity intact.
he just can't stop doubting, even when you let him touch you. when you say you need him to frag you, he momentarily hesitates. his confident exterior cracks to reveal a spark that doesn't know if your attraction is true or a product of his concubus influence.
when you touch him—crave him—he forgets until you're gone his doubts. he never takes more than you give. he gives so much more than he takes, or would ever take. his affections have been withheld for so long. you're the catalyst he's able to release them through.
you soon learn that he has a tiny breeding kink. something he has never allowed himself to indulge in due to the circumstances he lives in. he's seen so much life begin that he can't help but want to produce it as well. his servos always grasp your abdomen and chassis when he takes you. his processor imagines you slowly growing big and round from the sparks you're growing inside you. how he would protect and provide for you. your frame would never ache because he'd always be there to ease it.
you're the reason he so recklessly gives over his leadership to ginrai. someone more focused on the cause needs to lead. it gives him more time with you.
there's more time to explore the unique things his frame can do to you and you to it. he'll always prematurely overload if you play with his wings. thanks to his shining arrow technique, he's been able to harness that energy into setting it course through your frame, making you more horny and stimulated. he can't help but give a little jolt to your valve's nodes; seeing your faceplate contort in pleasure makes him leaky in all the right places. his digits sparking against your spike never cease to have you heavily venting, frame trembling. the transfluid you produce from those ministrations is more filling as well, not that he has a particular preference. it all comes from you.
concubus! yan! phoenix may be the pretender team's communications officer, but he still struggles to confess his infatuation for you. he has always been left in the background: a valued team member but not one that has the spotlight. humans look over him in favor of lander's sex appeal or metalhawk's charisma; even diver has this weird charm that gets him dates. phoenix is always the one night that you can never remember the name of. all you remember is that he gave you an orgasm that you'll never get again.
he's stuck on the german airstrip, which is really isolating. there are very few humans that are honestly turned on by him rambling about code-breaking.
he spent such a long time on earth that he forgot there were other options. non-pretender cybertronian options. when he first heard your vocalizer over the comms, he was pleasantly surprised. learning you were joining their team as a headmaster was a double pleasant surprise. you being interested in his ramblings was triple the pleasantness. knowing that you were going to be stationed near him was four times too much for him to handle.
he daydreamed about your e.m. field and frame while awaiting your arrival. he almost forgot his manners, struggling to keep his hands to himself. slipping into his cybertronian form, your transtector is bigger than he is. that's insanely attractive. but he wants to feel the cybertronian inside it even more.
knowing your original frame is small enough to be able to frag his human form has him feeling hot in the middle of a german winter.
he may seem gruff but really isn't as soon as he opens his mouth. he does his best to impress you. he wants to please you in any way he can. he needs to get you. you're the signal he needs to catch.
when he looks at you, his organic throat runs dry. he coughs and blushes, eyes anywhere but on you. he can talk with you on general things, but anything about love gets him tongue-tied. he better speaks through his actions. he wants to frag you well and good, but no, that insecure part of him doesn't want to be another one-night stand. even if it means you'd never forget the orgasms he gave you.
he's determined to get you to fall in love with him before he frags you. easier said than done. you so effortlessly get him hard. he doesn't think he's ever had to self-service more. against his better judgment, he'll do it in places where you could find him. part of him just wants you to see it and come onto him so he can readily accept and make you weep in ecstasy with his words alone. when he gets going, he can drag multiple overloads out of someone with just his voice.
he's not quiet either when he self-services or frags. if you hear him and give him space, like most would do, he'll know. he can feel it. it hurts. it hurts because you're being polite when he wishes you wouldn't. he needs you to take charge of him so he can take charge of you.
a conversation could fix this relationship or break it. he's not willing to take the risk. he'll make sure you're isolated as much as possible. you only have him, and he's the best thing you could have.
transformers: victory 𖹭 deathsaurus, star saber
concubus! yan! deathsaurus takes what he wants but isn't a brute about it. he saw you and knew he needed to have you at least once. as his loyal soldier, you certainly wouldn't deny him such a thing. deathsaurus marks all of his prey, so every single destron will know deathsaurus fed from you. it inspires awe as well as jealousy. the few other concubus within the destron ranks will also seek you out as a meal. if you are good enough for their supreme commander, then you must really taste good. deathsaurus doesn't share, but that doesn't stop greedy servos from grabbing at you.
it was supposed to be a one-off, lust-fueled, fragging session that left him stuffed. instead, he began to crave more. seeing his soldiers attempt to get you under their allure disgusted him so deeply that he had their sparks carved out and turned into new accessories for his breast animals. he'll ask you if you like them, daring you to question where they came from. at least that takes care of one of your problems as well as one of his...
he seeks you out again, this time in a more public place: a common room. he whispers dirty things into your audials and reassures you that it's fine if anyone sees. he's buried deep into you by the time leozack comes up to him, probably with another bumbling plan that will end in an energon-splattered failure. the second-in-command is undeniably aroused, which only causes deathsaurus to smirk and revel. he calls him off, enjoying the way your valve clenches around one of his spikes in embarrassed prurience.
as so many things come in threes, like his spikes, it's your third time together that seals your fate as his consort. it wasn't planned. he was needy but too prideful to express so. he held a meeting and demanded certain mechs attend. you were late. you weren't, technically. everyone just arrives early. but that isn't an excuse. he doesn't tolerate disrespect of his orders. so he orders his breast animals to drag you to the throne room. you faintly smell of another destron, traces of their e.m. field lingering on yours.
in that moment he required you, so he could seal your bond with him. so you'd never be late again. a step further. you'd never be away from his side unless he allowed it, which would be rarer than the cybertrons besting the destrons. he ordered you up to his throne, on your knees before him. he had you suck off each of his spikes in front of all those that were ordered to attend. he had you slide your interface panel back so his pede could press into your array components.
you were so wet and pressurized for him in front of so many troops. truly vent-taking.
he commands them all to leave when he finally takes you. he asks you if you're truly loyal to him. if this is the path you'll choose. he could've chosen anyone to bond with, but he chose you. he would've felt his spark fracture if you had said no. he would've just sent you off, leaving you marked as his occasional meal, eventually being led on a suicide mission because you would've been a liability that he couldn't entirely account for.
luckily, you accepted. and he soothed any worries you had about the others not respecting you after they saw you in such a degrading position. it was, but it wasn't. you get to touch him—please him. you get to be with him.
he wants you to feel ashamed because you displeased him, not because lower soldiers saw you do so. you now hold power over all of them. only as much as he allows, but still.
you're his consort now.
you get to take his multiple spikes, fill his two valves, and perhaps even spark up his gestation chambers.
is that not an honor only you get? rhetorical, of course it is.
you never want as his consort. perhaps ache for freedom and recharge for your overly-fragged frame, but not much else. no matter the times star saber and the cybertrons attempt to save you from "deathsaurus's influence," you'll always stay with the destrons and valiantly fight against the cybertrons until your last intake. you know the truth about him. the crushing grip of his claws will never be enough to offline you, because you help give him life and the strength to conquer the universe.
concubus! yan! star saber is professional and self-sacrificing by spark, so very few know of his concubus status. only the other brainmasters and deathsaurus are aware.
he feels such overwhelming guilt that he has to keep his true nature a secret from you. at least for now. he can't risk putting you in danger, at least no more than what comes at the cost of war.
he often denies himself any form of pleasure. his spike will be fully pressurized behind his interface panel, valve leaking so much that it threatens to seep through his seams, yet he'll continue calmly giving his speech and gallantly leading his troops. you were standing near him the entire time. the things you do to him. which he loves but hates.
you haven't consented to him jerking off to the thought of you. what if you don't return his affections? he's so dirty for getting aroused near you while you're unaware. it makes him almost as bad as deathsaurus.
the other brainmasters will help him, even if he insists that he doesn't need it. the last thing you need is harassment from your superiors.
braver will come to you with a proposition, telling you that there's a concubus among your ranks that needs to be fed. he calms you down. he makes sure you aren't jumpy when he tells you that he's built a contraption that will stimulate you and collect the fluids. it's sleek and compact, so don't worry! it can stay a secret. star saber feels something inside him when you agree. he has no idea what happened, but he can't concentrate on his work any longer. he has to go back to his habsuite and ends up leaking all over himself as he touches himself in a way that doesn't stifle the building heat in his systems.
if braver is being honest with themself, they are always running low on fuel for the servoful of concubus among them, but star saber requires even more due to his frame and regular exertion. that's why you're the perfect candidate. star saber's love for you will make your transfluid extra filling.
laster and blacker act as back-up, making sure you're safe and content when star saber is too busy to. if star saber's subtleties slipped past your radar, the other brainmasters giving you special attention makes it clear something's up. it's easy to connect the wires.
star saber will still be skittish after you know. he isn't rough in interfacing, but his stamina far exceeds yours. he needs to breed you so badly but doesn't wish to spark you up if that's against your wishes. he may convince you, but he hardly has the time.
once star saber has had you once, you won't ever be allowed to leave his sights again. there was a slim chance of escape before he interfaced with you. now it's zero. your frame is absolutely divine, and he knows it's wrong to always keep you with him, but he's doing it for you: your safety, your health, your pleasure.
he's the supreme commander of the cybertrons. the brainmaster of courage. trust him. will you?
you don't have a choice. he'll win you over if he hasn't already.