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The Autobots' B*tch:

The first time

Some people on Wattpad asked me to continue the One Shot, so here is the continuation. There will be more. 😌

Read the first part:

One Shot/2544 words Optimus Prime x Fem human x Autobots ⚠️ NSFW The text includes interspecies relationships, s. innuendos, submission a

⚠️ NSFW

3225 words

Content alert: interspecies s*x, submission, domination, fluid testing, infidelity.

Optimus prime Tyran (Mass displacement)x Fem human

Note: english is not my first language, if there is a translation error, please let me know so I can correct it. Ty

Days later...

The silence between you was worse than any scream. Optimus no longer spoke to you. No longer looked at you. No longer touched you.

Every night at the base, every moment you used to be together, was now an abyss of distance. You still shared the same space, but he stayed far away, ignoring you with a devastating coldness.

Your mind, your heart, and your body suffered from it. Your skin burned from his touch, from the metallic heat of his body against yours, from his firm touch that claimed you as his own. You longed for him, his love, his consideration, his devotion to you and your pleasure. But you didn't get it. No more.

And worst of all... he knew it.

He knew you wanted it. That you needed it as desperately as a dying man needs air. And instead of easing your agony, he extended it with cruel patience. It wasn't impulsive revenge, it was calculated punishment.

Every time you passed by him, you felt his presence, his warmth, his energy. But you couldn't get close. The nights were the worst. Your body cried out for him, shuddered with need, drowned in the emptiness of his absence. Every inch of your skin burned with the lack of his hands running over you, of his deep voice saying your name in privacy.

Your crotch needed his connection, your entrance throbbed when you remembered all the nights he made you his, even in his office or on the Autobot ship.

It was painful and Optimus knew it.

He knew what he was doing to you and it was destroying you.

Not because it gave him pleasure to see you suffer, but because he wanted you to understand the gravity of your betrayal. He wanted you to feel what he felt when he found out what you had done.

But your penance didn't end there. That night, a message came through your communicator.

"To the interrogation room. Now."

The chill ran down your spine as you read it. You knew it was him. And you knew it wasn't going to be a normal conversation. With your heart pounding, you walked through the dark hallways of the base, each step echoing off the walls. When you arrived, the door opened automatically.

He was there.

Tall, imposing, with his arms crossed over his chest and his optics shining with a dangerous intensity. There was no explosive anger in him, no shouting, just a cutting coldness that was a thousand times worse.

You entered cautiously, but as soon as you took two steps inside, the door closed behind you with a metallic sound that sealed your fate.

"Sit down," his voice was a contained thunder.

You swallowed and obeyed. The room was small, with only one table between you, but the feeling of confinement did not come from the walls, but from his gaze piercing your heart.

Optimus slowly approached, bracing his hands on the table, leaning into you until you had no escape.

“Since when…” His voice was low, firm, but laced with silent venom.

You blinked, confused.

“What…?”

“Since when did you start fornicate with my soldiers.”

The shock of his question was worse than a shot straight to the chest. You opened your mouth, but no words came out. He didn’t look away, waiting, demanding the truth.

Your throat closed up. There was no escape.

You closed your eyes for a moment and took a breath, feeling the anguish gripping your chest.

“It wasn’t, it wasn’t right away…” your voice cracked.

When you remembered it, the image of the first time with him crossed your mind. He was still yours and you were still his.

Everything was different. You took another breath and began to speak.

“It started with you…”

For the first time in days, the glow in Optimus’ optics changed. There was something else there.

Something he hadn’t expected.

You wandered through your first memories before the deception, that day was when Optimus had returned from a fight against a horde of Decepticons who had come from space to Earth seeking revenge and power. It wasn’t commanded by Megatron, it was a very separate group.

The Autobots arrived in terrible conditions at the base after the confrontation. Some were missing parts, some were leaking energon, and some were just scrapes, but it had been a fearless and merciless fight.

You arrived alarmed at Optimus's location. He had an energon leak in his arm, several blows to his armor and frame, and his right cheek was bruised. He was exhausted.

Ratchet quickly tended to him. The metallic screech of tools echoed through the hangar as you waited in silence. Optimus stood leaning on the repair table. Some of his parts still smoked from the heat caused by his internal system.

You cared about him. You always did.

Since he became your partner, your leader, your lover, every time he went out to the battlefield you felt a part of you go with him. And when he came back, wounded and covered in war scars, all you wanted was to be by his side.

So there you were. Waiting.

“You’re lucky these wounds aren’t serious,” Ratchet grumbled as he sized up a damaged panel on his chest. “But if you keep exposing yourself like this, Prime, eventually even I won’t be able to fix you.”

Optimus didn’t respond. Not with words, at least.

Ever since you entered the hangar, he had been watching you. But not with the usual gaze of calm, love, or leadership he usually wore.

There was something else this time, it was something instinctive. Something dark.

His gaze, tinted a deep, mesmerizing blue, traveled over every inch of your body as if he were marking you. You had never seen that shade of blue in his optics.

It wasn’t battle exhaustion that kept him silent. It was hunger, hunger, and desire.

You felt a chill run through your skin, but you didn’t say anything, because you knew.

You saw it, and you weren’t the only one.

Ratchet paused for a second in his work, calibrating one of the screens that projected Optimus’ vital signs. His scanner showed a spike in his energy levels, something that didn’t match the injuries he had.

The medic narrowed his optics and looked away at his leader.

Then at you. And then he understood.

Ratchet let out an exasperated sigh and walked away, muttering to himself as he turned off his tools.

“For Primes’ sake… I don’t need my scanners to know what the hell is going on here.”

You blinked, confused.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Ratchet picked up his instruments and put them away roughly. “We’re done for today. Just… try not to let it fall to pieces again before the next checkup.”

You didn’t understand his irritation until he walked past you and muttered quietly enough for only you to hear,

“You better be ready.”

Before you could ask him what he meant, he was gone, leaving a heavy silence in the hangar. When you looked back at Optimus, he was still there, motionless, those piercing optics fixed on you.

And you knew exactly what Ratchet meant, and you gulped.

But Optimus interrupted your memory.

“It was our first time.” His voice was deep, low, echoing in the spaciousness of the room.

“Yes.”

Optimus tilted his head slightly, not taking his optics off of you. The blue light shone brightly.

Your breathing became erratic. He had noticed it and you tried to run away, but he wouldn’t let you.

With precision, he grabbed onto your arm and crouched in front of you, one of his huge metal hands gripping your waist firmly enough to remind you of his size, his strength, his dominance.

The hand that had been gripping your arm moved to your jaw and forced you to look at him.

“From the first time you were with me, you were mine,” he declared with absolute certainty. “And yet…”

He paused,

“Tell me, was it like that with them?”

Your stomach tightened.

There it was. The truth, the reproach, and the condemnation.

You pressed your lips together, feeling your body struggle between guilt, fear, and desire in the midst of his interrogation.

Because the way he held you, the way his presence dominated every particle of air around you, made you shiver in a way only he could manage. But you knew this wasn’t just about desire.

This was him claiming you and punishing you.

“Answer me.”

Your fingers trembled as you took a breath, preparing to give him what he asked for.

You thought back.

The silence between you was thick, charged with something indescribable. Optimus didn’t say a word when he took a step towards you because he didn’t need to. His optics already said it all.

You stood in your place, not moving, not resisting. It wasn’t fear that paralyzed you. It was the intensity of his gaze.

And then, without warning, his frame began to change.

The grinding of his plates echoed through the hangar as his size began to shrink, adjusting, compressing until his height became more manageable for you. But even in that form, he was tall and still commanding.

When he was at his exact measure, when his massive hands could effortlessly encircle you, he didn't hesitate to do so, picking you up with ease, as if you were the most precious and fragile thing in his universe.

Your breath hitched as you felt the metal of his frame against your skin, its temperature not cold, it was warm.

Wasting no time, he began to walk with heavy, determined steps, carrying you through the base, completely ignoring any curious glances or the presence of the other Autobots still nearby.

Nothing mattered in that moment except his destination: your room.

As you walked through the doorway with him, you understood what he wanted.

He took you to the bed without a second thought, and began to make love to you in such a hungry and needy way. It was the first touch of his hands exploring you with adoration and desire. He whispered your name with devotion and submission. It had been the first moment you understood that there would never be anyone else for you but him.

He led the act, it was part of his nature.

He kissed you and removed your clothes with firm movements and positioned himself behind you to control you from his lap.

"Don't try to resist, it's useless when you know you were born to be mine" Optimus massaged your breasts "Allow me to guide you, please you. Surrender to me. "

You nodded as you surrendered in his arms. He began to prepare you by bringing one of his hands to your intimacy, to your most sensitive spot and rubbed it. You stifled your moans at his encouragement, wanting to stop him but he didn't. That only motivated him even more, causing your back to arch against him. His panel was burning against the skin of your ass.

“I want to hear those noises that humans make, I want to hear them coming out of your mouth.”

Optimus pushed two fingers inside you and you moaned. He stimulated your walls over and over again, which only responded to the circular movements he made, contracting around them. He leaned into you as he pulled his fingers out and made a soft purr of satisfaction. Optimus watched his hand covered in your essence with a controlling glint in his optics. His exhale was slow, but his grip on you tightened.

“Look what you do to me…” he murmured in his deep, vibrant voice, bringing his fingers closer to your mouth. “Try it.”

Your breathing became erratic, but you obeyed. You wrapped your lips around his fingers, tasting yourself as he watched you in pleasure.

His hands returned to your body with more determination, exploring every curve, every corner, as if he were memorizing what belonged to him. His hot panel pressed against your backside, a silent warning of what was to come next.

“Tell me you’ll remember,” he whispered against your ear, his voice like suppressed thunder. “Tell me you’ll remember who claims you tonight.”

Your body shuddered under his hold.

“You…” you whispered haltingly. “Just you, Optimus.”

Then he pushed your body onto the bed and positioned himself on top of you to show you his spike, which was eager to emerge from his panel.

Erect, large, and juicy, it aggressively emerged from its compartment.

His spike covered in his fluids, he brought it close to your folds with the aim of having his tip caress them while his lips devoured yours and he put his tongue in to explore the corners of your mouth.

And he entered without hesitation. Your moan interrupted the kiss.

Your walls stretched to his size and thickness, it was painful. However, the excitement and your need to be penetrated by him prevailed over the burning. Your arms clung to his shoulders tightly at the same time that he rammed hard into you to reach your limit. He sank completely into your cavity, you didn't know how he had entered your small and tight interior, but that feeling of feeling yourself filled by him left you speechless.

And he proceeded to move.

Optimus remained over you, his imposing body covering yours while your walls adjusted to his presence. His optics never left your face, watching your every gesture, every shudder and gasp he managed to draw from you.

His thrusts, though controlled, were not lacking in strength. He moved inside you with an almost military precision, each thrust a reminder of who he was and who you belonged to.

The heat of his metallic body radiated over your skin. Your nails dug into his armor, trying to grab onto something while your mind was lost in the tide of sensations he provoked in you.

“Never forget it,” he growled against your ear, his voice a mix of desire and a repressed vigor. “No one else can make you feel this way. No one else has this right.”

Your legs clung to his waist, trying to bring him even closer to you, as if you could fuse with him. Each thrust was a physical reminder of his power over you.

The air in the room became thick, it was charged with heat, desire and the smell of sex. Your moans and the creamy sounds of your joining accompanied the hum of your system. Optimus leaned his face towards yours, his lips claiming yours once more in a kiss that was more a mark of ownership than a display of affection.

His hands found yours, lacing your fingers with his, anchoring you to him as he quickened the pace, taking you to a limit you were unaware of.

When you finally climaxed, your body arched beneath his, a cry of pleasure torn from your throat as he kept his optics locked on you, watching with satisfaction the evidence of his power over your body and mind.

Optimus continued to move inside you, prolonging your ecstasy until finally, with a growl, he too reached his own point of no return, filling you with his heat and energy, sealing the connection between you in a way that transcended the physical.

After a few moments, the only sound being their heavy breathing, Optimus withdrew from inside you with surprising gentleness for someone his size. He laid down beside you, wrapping you in his arms, holding you close as your bodies slowly cooled.

“You’re mine,” he murmured, his voice losing some of its previous harshness. “You always will be.”

When you reminded him of that night, Optimus seemed to take pity. You could see the love he had for you in his gaze. His sense of forgiveness was faltering. The silence in the interrogation room grew thick. He kept his grip firm on your jaw, though, his optics scanning your eyes for anything, any hint of lies or regret.

His breathing hitched slightly, the deep hum of his system revealing the internal battle he was dealing with. He had been yours before everything. You had been his. And remembering it, reliving it in his mind with every word you spoke, affected him more than he cared to admit.

But that didn't erase what you had done afterwards.

Optimus closed his optics for a moment, as if trying to suppress the desire that was rising inside him along with the anger and betrayal. His jaw tightened and his grip on you loosened slightly, but he didn’t let go.

“After that night…” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He opened his optics immediately.

“Go on.”

You swallowed, gathering the courage to continue.

“After that night, every time you left on a mission… it was harder for me to bear it.”

His expression didn’t change, but his strength waned even further.

“You were my everything, Optimus. But you were always at war. Always leaving, fighting, bleeding for this cause. For Cybertron, for Earth, for everyone… except me.”

Optimus slowly straightened, releasing your jaw, but his gaze remained fixed on you, intense.

“You asked me to wait. To understand. And I did. At first.”

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your composure.

“But every time you came back, you were more distant. More exhausted. Sometimes you wouldn’t even look at me when you arrived… And I would stay here, alone, waiting for something that seemed more and more distant.

You could feel the tension in his frame, in the way his hands clenched, as if he were fighting to contain his emotions.

But he didn’t interrupt. He let you talk.

“And then, one day… you left again. You weren’t in the mood when we said goodbye. You barely looked at me. You barely said anything.”

His gaze darkened. He remembered.

“That day… Crosshairs approached me.”

You remember the exact day everything fell apart. Optimus was due to leave for Cybertron. The situation was critical, and although he promised to return, you knew that this mission was different. Something in his gaze gave him away.

You went to say goodbye to him in the hangar, but this time he wasn't in the mood.

"I have to go," was all he said, emotionless.

You tried to get closer, touch his hand, seek some of the warmth you missed so much, but he pulled away.

"Don't make this harder."

His rejection hurt more than any words. He climbed into the ship without looking back.

You stood there, watching as the only person who really mattered in your life disappeared into the sky. And with his departure, the weight of loneliness became unbearable.

That was when Crosshairs appeared.

The Autobot had seen everything from a distance. He wasn't one to meddle in other people's business, but this time he made an exception.

"You shouldn't hold on so much, my dear," his voice had that characteristic mocking tone, but his optics reflected something else. "Prime is always going to choose war over anything else. That's what he does."

You didn't answer. You didn't want to argue. But Crosshairs didn’t stop.

“Look, I’m not saying I don’t love you. But sometimes, duty and love can’t go hand in hand. And you’re wasting away waiting for someone who will never really be here.”

His words were cruel. But also true.

You turned to leave, but he stopped you.

“You don’t have to be alone.”

That’s when it happened.

Crosshairs wasn’t like Optimus. He didn’t have his patience, his discipline, his unwavering morals. But he had something that made you give in at that moment: he was there.

There was no love. There was no passion. Just an escape, a desperate attempt to fill the void Optimus had left behind.

But that had been the beginning of your mistake.

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