Can I ask for idw Optimus finding out that before the war, his Connie (male pronouns if possible) was a… exotic dancer? And ah, much more?
Readers' frame type, height, paint job, etc, are vague
A/N: I've been struggling 😭 I've recently moved states, and it's been interesting to adjust, to say the least. But I should be getting back to it soon. I luv you all, and I really appreciate everyone's patience 😘😘😘
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He came home angry, and you wondered if it was Prowl again or if someone had stirred up trouble or if he was harassed for conjunxing an ex-decepticon again. Unfortunately, it was none of those things because as soon as the words, 'what's wrong?', came from your vocalizer he glared at you. Suddenly, larger than normal, he stared you down with such fire in his optics it made you want to hide.
"Don't you talk to me, understand. I don't want to hear a peep from you." He pointed accusationally at you before stomping to your shared room. "I need time to think, leave me alone." And that was that. You spent the remainder of the afternoon on the couch, still thinking about what you could have done to make him this angry. Admittedly, he scared you. Past memory has protected you before, and you were ready for it to do so again.
When the time came, you got up to make dinner for you and your lover. You placed his serving on the floor, knocked, then turned around and left back to the living room. If he wants his space fine, but you don't want him to starve, so you listen in, and only when you hear the door open and shut, do you start eating your portion. When you've finished, you set your dishes down and sit there. Sadness had begun to fill your chassis with every bite, guilt settled deep within your tanks.
Thoughts race endlessly through your processor while you sit there in deafening silence. The whoosh of the door opening actually startles you, but you make no effort to look at him. The sink runs, and his dishes clink and clang together before he turns it off. "Why didn't you tell me?" You're caught off gaurd, confused. "Why? Was it because you were scared or disgusted? Why didn't you tell me that you were... that you used to..." He trails off and slowly comes into the living room and looks down at you. "Do you have any clue what I'm talking about?" He pleads with his optics that you will say yes.
"I... I do. I know what you're talking about. And I'm sorry I never said anything." You make room for him and pat the empty seat, wanting him to sit. "I was an exotic dancer at first. It was harmless, I was paid handsomely to dance for grimy mechs and femmes alike from the safety of an impenetrable case, and believe me, many had tried to bust through." He just listens and looks at your face contort with emotion. "Just dancing, they told me, just dance for them, and that's all. You can live your dreams if you just wiggle your aft. I was smaller then; shorter and less clunky." You look down at the added armor. It's made you look more rough around the edges, and it comforts you, "I was also young and naive, and they told me they would protect me, that I could make so much more. Then I started letting them in. They could touch, feel, and taste what they couldn't before. I still danced, but afterward, I would handle them in the back. Or they would handle me, y'know?" You chuckle awkwardly.
"I might take this armor off, show you what my Primus given frame looks like. Megatron had Shockwave fit me this armor, I was uh, distracting the other 'Cons, starting trouble. He understood it wasn't on purpose. Every so often, it would get tight, and I'd have to upgrade, bigger, stronger, better. I think I can..." You tail off and try pulling at your wrist seams until you hear a small pop and hiss. "There it is." You pull it apart, and the seam stretches upwards along the side of your servo like a casing. A smaller servo on the inside, and you smile at the sight of your own servo. "Will you..?" You hold your arm out to him, and he takes it gently. After hours of work, he is finally able to pop the last case around your left tribulen open. Shockwave really didn't want it falling off. Some seams had to be heated and nearly melted to get the welds off.
"I feel so much lighter," you stretch yourself out, "I'll bet I'm faster now, too."
"All of its been a lie?" He asks solemnly, digits trace up and down your arm. Your real arm, he reminds himself.
"No. I never lied. I just..." He is curious, and thus, he pushes you onto the couch. His servos are now even larger, nearly engulfing your waist in just one. His digits start prodding. He loves you so much, thinks you are the most attractive mech he's ever seen, but he didn't know you could become even more attractive and it does something inside of him. No longer angry or betrayed, he feels invigorated instead, wanting to explore the real you and you can tell, teasing his arousal through his field.
"Is your spike still the same size, my dear? I'd like to find out." He stares deeply into your optics as your breath hitches. Your own arousal blooming underneath your panels.
"I was uh, going to tell you, but unff- I ahhh." You grunt and moan with every thrust, now in your berth, lover behind you on his knees.
"Just shut up and take it like a good little mech." Optimus holds your helm up with one servo to speak in your audial. His harsh tone makes you whimper and valve squeeze around him. He then holds your helm down by the back of your neck while the other servo holds your hip tightly. He's so much bigger than you that he easily engulfs your frame with his own, and it thrills you to no end. That, and the rough treatment, do wonders for you. It makes your processor swirl and frame activate every sensory input processor available to overwhelm and stimulate you. Oh, the power of his hips, the grip of his servos, and open vocalizer are enough to make you overload straight into hard reset.
"I had always wondered why, why, after every time we interfaced, you were still so tight? Such a small mech, small valve, should be stretched by my spike." You moan. "I also wondered why or how you had so much stamina. How you were so good at sucking spike. If you were just a natural or if you had practice with past lovers." He slams into you at a fast pace, smirking when you yelp. "But they weren't lovers, were they? No, they were consumers. Investors. Keeping you clean and healthy so they could use you up. As much as I don't like that thought, I can't change it, the past at least. Now, now no one will look at you like that anymore. Only me, no one can have you the way I can, the way I do." Possessiveness takes over him for a moment, and he flips you onto your back. He stares deeply into your optics while inching his spike into your tight, wet valve, and your spike bobs and dribbles prefluid onto your abdomen.
When your frames connect, his optics begin to roam down to your derma and then even further down. "Tell me, sweetspark, how did you get this mod? How much was it? How many 'clients' did you have to take for it, or did one of them gift you with the mod? Did they lavish you with oils and treats? Or were you just a back alley buy mech who got lucky?" He asks crudely while his thumb rubs your anterior node in circles.
"Optimus." You bashfully turn your helm to the side to look away from him. His words are harsh but very much near the truth, and that's what's embarrassing you so.
"Don't you look away from me." He grabs your face and forces you to look at him. "I'm sorry, it got to my head." He leans down and kisses you lovingly, still pumping in and out of you. "There's just something about how dirty you were. So forbidden and delicious." He pulls out suddenly. In one swift motion, he lifts you up and lays down, placing you on top of him. "Show me, do for me what you did for them." He rubs his servos up and down your sides softly. You stare down at him, venting heavily.
"I need access to your valve if that's what you want." He hums curiously but complies, a low 'shhk' sound alerts you of his exposed valve. He waits patiently and watches you slink down. "I'm going to have to dance for you some other time too." You smirk before rubbing your valve against his. Anterior nodes bumping against each other while you take his spike in your servo. Your slick coats his valve opening heavily, making him groan at the feeling your fluids mixing.
"That's nice darling, but..." He goes quiet. His node, it feels. "What is happening?" You chuckle and lean over him, spike still in your servo, but your other travels down between you both.
"Oh my love, there are bits and pieces of me that I've been wanting to share with you." Two of your digits push into his valve. When you pull them out, you put them into yourself to gather more of your own lubricant and push them back into him. "I've also wondered how you would react to this feeling." The feeling on his node travels deep into him. It spreads like wildfire up inside him. It's like a cold wave that makes his servos ball up into fists.
"Not only did certain mechs and femmes get to have me completely, I danced for them. I showed myself off in a glass case. Taunted them with what they couldn't have." You curl your digits inside him and brush against his interior node, making him shiver. And, as if it were a system error, a few seconds after you touched his node, a small burst of electricity pulses from his node in small waves, making him cry out. And without warning, you thrust your spike into his valve and start stroking his roughly.
You pound into his sensitive valve and stroke his spike simultaneously to make him a moaning mess beneath you. "It's not too much, is it my love?" You ask sweetly and he shakes his head.
"More!" He cries, bucking his hips. With a smirk, you thrust harder. Sacrificing speed for force knowing that the effects will last longer and be stronger. He has melted, gone completely limp beneath you. His optics flicker and his field is charged to the brim. You swear you can taste it, the thick nectar of his lust dripping from his core. Suddenly, he takes hold of your shoulders and sits up. He has you confused for a few moments until he starts riding you. Now, on his knees, he bounces in your lap.
You feel your faceplate heat up even more, his actions flattering you, but what makes this moment even sweeter is the way he's looking at you. No one has looked at you this way. You know it's different from the usual looks youd get, but you're not so sure what's different about it.
"Optimus, I still have trouble believing you're actually serious about this relationship of yours. Even after you've learned everything about him and his past. I mean, it was bad enough that he's an ex decepticon, but it's another that he's..." Suddenly, a large servo can be seen over the red and blue mechs shoulder.
"Don't you finish that sentence. I know you don't 'approve' of it, Prowl. But he's my conjunx, and that was his past, not his present, nor his future. And I do believe it has shaped him," Prowl makes a suggestive motion with his servos as Optimus 'monologues' as he likes calling it, "into the mech he is today." Optimus turns around to face the shorter officer who just stares at him.
"Not only personality wise, I'm sure." Prowl rolls his optics. The comment leaves a sour taste in the primes mouth. "But you're right, he's your conjunx, it's really none of my business. I suppose it's just the fact that it's not very professional. For a mech of your status, I'd expect a high-grade conjunx. You've had many suitors, and all of which at least knew what fine arts are. Besides, he's just a trophy wife, as the humans would say." Optimus chuckles and shakes his head. Oh, how wrong is Prowl's statement. You are very intelligent and creative, and you're more than just some trophy wife.
