Archive of Our Own ^beta

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It had taken a long time to get where they are now. Not the part where Starscream was on his back, wings flared out beautifully beneath him. That was fairly common, but Wheeljack had never gotten to see it from this angle. What had taken so much time was that Wheeljack had finally slid his mask aside, revealing the mangled flesh behind it.

“You’re beautiful.” Starscream had said to him. He’d been nearly breathless. Wheeljack remembered that. He’d committed everything the seeker had said to memory. His face had flushed and he had long since forgotten to fight the urge to press against the other’s palm.

Starscream’s nimble fingers traced the scar tissue around his mouth, taking care to avoid his exposed teeth, before trailing up to twisted metal that was Wheeljack’s cheek. “I can turn off the lights if that would make you more comfortable.”

Wheeljack nodded. The anxiety that had sat heavy in his chest had uncoiled a little more at that suggestion. Before Starscream could get too far, he had grabbed his wrist and pulled his lover into a needy kiss. He was out of practice, but Starscream was the kind of mech who needed to be kissed.

That was how they’d gotten here. Wheeljack’s face buried in Starscream’s valve, while the other arched under him. The seeker gasped and moaned Wheeljack’s name, along with pleas for more, while Wheeljack’s tongue pressed firmly against Starscream’s outer node. His thighs trembled from where they rested on Wheeljack’s shoulders.

“J-Jackie! Fu-” Starscream’s voice pitched up as his overload claimed him. His hips raised off the berth to press harder against Wheeljack’s mouth. His hands gripped the plush sheets below him. The tension left his frame as he clearly struggled to regain control of his roaring vents. “You’ve been holding out on me.”

Wheeljack slowly pulled away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Sure, it was a cocky gesture, but he deserved it. Especially making a mech like Starscream fall apart like that. “I mean, I’ve been out of practice so I wasn’t sure how good I-”

“I meant your face.”

“Oh!” The lights on either side of his head went a soft pink for only a moment before Starscream pulled him upright to kiss him. He could get used to this.

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Ambulon squirmed as Skids tightened the rope that was latticed over his chest plate. This was taking far longer than he had thought it would. Sure, Skids had said it would be worth it, and he did trust Skids. 

His arms were bound behind his back. His hands tied to his ankles so that his back was curved slightly. It wasn’t as uncomfortable as he had anticipated. What was uncomfortable was the heat behind his interface array. He could feel the transfluids that were beginning to press at the seams, threatening to trickle down his thighs. He wasn’t sure if it was the anticipation, or the bullet vibrator pressed firmly against his node. Skids had the setting low enough to not give him an ounce of satisfaction.

“This isn’t even half as complex as some of the videos I found. Do you want to stop? We’re almost done, if that helps at all?” 

Something about Skids’s voice always calmed him. The timbre of it, the words, all of it. He was beyond reassuring. “No, I like it. I’m just a bit embarrassed I suppose.” Even as he said it some of his paint flaked off his thigh and drifted down to the floor. He winced. 

“Hey, its alright. Just one more-” A couple of tugs later and Skids stood up tall. “Perfect!” He clapped his hands together. “You’re gorgeous Ambulon.”

He is sure he’s never blushed this dark before in his life. Ambulon turned his helm away.

“Ah! No hiding, love.” Skids’s fingers cupped his chin and turn his head so they were facing each other. “Now, be good for me and open your panels please. I want to see how wet you are.” 

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Oh she had thought she’d been so sneaky sending him those anonymous messages. Of course, Starscream had figured out immediately that it had to be the only jet on the Autobot side. She would be the only one with any taste. The only one who could possibly begin to appreciate him and all of his beauty. 

What was her name again? 

It didn’t matter. All that really mattered right now was the heat of her valve as the calipers flexed around his spike. He changed the angle of his hips, pulling a moan from her throat. 

“Quiet, do you want to get caught?” He hissed. Not like the fear of being found did anything to kill his mood. 

“Maybe.” Curse her stupid husky voice. Especially the way it elevated the charge coursing through his lines. “Can’t help it when I’m close. Especially under a pretty thing like you.” 

Well, if that didn’t do things to him, nothing would. He fucked into her far more carelessly than he had before. While getting caught did excite him, dealing with Megatron after did not. She was an Autobot after all and this was wrong. On an ethical level. But since when did Starscream care about ethics? 

She bit into his neck cables to muffle her cries as she overloaded around his spike. He finished silently not long after. Starscream pulled out of her valve and rubbed at his neck.

“Why would you do that? I’m bleeding!” 

“Heh.” She smirked, “Its to remind you of me until next time.” 

“Next time? Well if that’s the case, could I get your name again?” 

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It had been a long day. That’s what Pharma told himself as he laid back on his berth and allowed his panels to open, and his spike to pressurize into his hand. It had been a long day and he deserved this. 

It would be longer still because he had to see Tarn later. 

The stupid tank and his stupid huge hands that would wrap so perfectly around his waist. His low, rumbling voice. The way his stupid, tack biolights pulsed. Why was he thinking about that now of all times! He growled with frustration even as his hand slowly stroked along his spike. 

He hated Tarn, didn’t he? Of course he did! The mech had made his life nearly impossible. That aside, though, he was undeniably handsome. His shoulders were broad and Pharma couldn’t help but imagine his legs slung over them while the big mech used that mouth of his for something good for once. His tongue was probably long too. 

His face went hot. No. No he couldn’t think about Tarn like this. Especially not when he was in a position this compromising. The hand that he wasn’t self servicing with reached over to shut off the lamp beside his berth. Something clattered to the floor but he paid it no mind. What mattered was at least now it was dark and that his shameful behavior was less visible. 

Maybe tonight he could proposition Tarn. Yes that would make things easier. At least, that’s how he could justify it to himself when the tank bent him over his desk. His spike was probably huge. Big enough for Pharma’s valve to burn from the stretch. He moaned into his pillow. A pathetic attempt at quieting himself. Tarn would probably be vocal. He’d moan and pinch at Pharma’s wings. He wondered how the other would sound telling him he was beautiful and a brilliant doctor. 

He overloaded into his hand with Tarn’s name on his lips. Disgusting. He was disgusting for thinking of such an terrible mech like that. Especially those simple praises sending him over the edge. 

Somewhere, his phone beeped. He sat up and scrambled for the comm device that had been knocked to the the floor. He answered without looking.

“Having fun?” Tarn’s voice rumbled across the speaker. Pharma paled. “I suppose you didn’t call me on purpose then?” Even in his humiliation, Pharma noticed the mirth in Tarn’s tone. Tonight would either be great or a complete nightmare, and he wasn’t sure which he was dreading more. 

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Her back arched as she rode his spike. It was always such a pretty picture. Especially the way her helm fell back and exposed her neck cables. The Autobot rolled her hips with abandon, bringing them both to overload nearly simultaneously. She vented heavily as she pulled herself up and off of Starscream’s spike. 

“Hey, Star?” 

His optics were dim as he turned to her. “What’s wrong?” 

“Ah, I think… I might be uh.” 

Oh Primus she wasn’t going to say she loved him was she? He might purge his tanks. An Autobot in love with him. Thinking that this was anything more than a way to-

“I think I’m sparked.” 

“What?!”

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He hated this. He always hated heat cycles. They were a waste of his time and energy. Besides that, it really did a number on his pride every time. 

The massive toy wedged firmly in his valve wasn’t doing nearly enough. The vibrations were strong enough that Starscream was sure anyone who happened to be passing by could hear them. It was as humiliating as it was frustrating. He had been doing nothing but overloading and making a mess of his berth and yet he was still in need of so much more. 

Starscream huffed and thumped his head back against his pile of pillows. The false spike inside him continued to buzz away. They weren’t doing anything for him any more. He pulled it out and threw it away from himself. “God damnit!” He cried out from sheer frustration. 

His door slammed open, revealing a concerned looking Rodimus. “Are you alright? I was walking by and heard-” His optics trailed from Starscream’s flushed face to his dripping wet valve to the toy on the floor. 

“Would you close the door?!” Starscream practically shrieked as he scrambled to cover his exposed array. 

Rodimus, visibly flustered, stepped further into the room. He closed the door all while mumbling a string of unintelligible apologies. “I should have knocked.” 

“You really should have.” 

“Would you like a hand?” 

“Excuse me?” 

“I mean, it doesn’t have to be my hand it can-”

“Get in the berth.” He hissed. 

Rodimus wasted no time in positioning himself between Starscream’s shapely thighs. Starscream grabbed him and pulled him into a heated, desperate kiss. That was more than enough to open Rodimus’s panels. 

“You’re sure about this?” 

Starscream nipped at Rodimus’s lip, “Does anything about me seem unsure? Please Rodimus.” 

That was all he needed to hear to press himself forward, his spike easily entering Starscream’s hot, incredibly wet valve. Starscream, for his part, bit his own lip to keep quiet. Once Rodimus set his pace though, any attempts to keep quiet were cast aside. Starscream truly embraced his namesake, crying out from the pure, uninterrupted pleasure of finally getting what he needed. 

Neither of them lasted terribly long. Starscream overloaded first with praise for Rodimus falling from his lips. Rodimus followed shortly after. They laid beside each other, vents roaring. 

“Thank you Rodimus.” Starscream’s optics were dim as exhaustion finally began to claim him. 

“Heh no problem. Hey, I can stay here if you want. Can make sure your heat’s actually over.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

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He was a genius! After months and months of secret meetings followed by hours of secret work, he had done it. The perfect interfacing tool. 

His femme- he scoffed at that thought, she wasn’t his after all- was on some kind of Autobot mission. They’d been apart for entirely too long and Starscream hated not being able to make her feel good. Her breathless moans and pleas for more were music to his ears. Even if he couldn’t hear them. As long as he could recharge with the knowledge that she was thinking about him. As long as she overloaded with him on her mind. 

He eased his spike into the high tech toy he’d created, knowing that she would feel it too. Almost immediately she commed him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She whispered.

He rolled his hips and savored the sharp breath on the other end of the comm. “I think you know. Do you like it?” 

“I heh I am not alone.” 

“And? Do you think I care if the Prime hears you moaning my name?” 

“You were nng you were the one who said we need to keep this a secret.” 

He paused. Yeah that was true but he knew that her companions were almost certainly deep in recharge. She wouldn’t have been so stupid as to comm him with them awake and nearby. “Do you want me to stop?”

For a moment there was only heavy breathing coming from the comm. “Absolutely not.” 

He grinned. That was his femme. 

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Leave it to Tarn to pick out something this subtle and tasteful. Pharma smiled softly as he examined the delicate looking silver collar around his throat. There was a small tag reading “Tarn’s” in a pretty script. His finger traced over the engraving. Yes. He really was Tarn’s. Not that he needed reminding. There wasn’t a single other mech that he would rather be had by. 

“Are you listening?” Tarn’s voice derailed his train of thought.

“Of course!” 

“Then what was I talking to you about?” 

Pharma squirmed. He had no idea. There had been some mention of The List. Something about Deadlock, or Lockdown. He got them mixed up sometimes. “Megatron?” 

Before he could register what was happening, Tarn had hooked a finger between his neck and collar and tugged him forward. Pharma practically faceplanted in his lap. His face flushed and his fans clicked to life. “You weren’t listening at all, you naughty little thing.” 

Pharma could hear the smirk on his lips. Turned out they had both discovered one of his kinks at the same time. “Sorry.” 

Tarn gave the collar another pull, guiding the jet to sit in his lap. “What is there to be done with you?” He let his voice dip into that deep register that sent a shudder down Pharma’s spine and heat directly to his array. “Open your panels, my love.”

Pharma’s valve cover snapped aside. He had barely had time to register the cool air that danced over his soft valve lips before Tarn’s finger slipped inside. He whined and tried to press against the digit and force it deeper. “Tarn, please-”

“Now, now, this is a punishment. We’ll be taking things nice and slow while I tell you all about our next ten List related stops.” 

Pharma swallowed, his face heating far more than he had thought possible. “Yes sir.” 

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To say Blurr was fast would be an understatement. Her wings fluttered involuntarily. There was no real rhythm to anything he was doing. If there was, she couldn’t tell. It was all just the constant presence of pleasure. It was completely overwhelming. Her optics had nearly whited out from the stimulation. 

Blurr came suddenly with a yelp. She jumped at the sudden sound. 

“Did you just…” 

He blushed and gave her a sheepish grin. “YeahSorry.” 

She tugged him close. “The you’d better get on your knees and make me believe that.” 

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Given his blindness, Kaon thought it was stupid that Tesarus had blindfolded him. He wasn’t going to tell the big mech no though. Especially not when his fingers were so talented. 

“You’re so pretty, you know that?” Tesarus mumbled against Kaon’s audail. His finger hooked in the red mech’s valve, pressing into his ceiling node. 

Kaon arched, electricity rising from his coils. “I can’t see, Tes.” Incredible pleasure be damned, he couldn’t just not respond!

“Smart aft.” Tesarus nipped at his neck cables. “Don’t worry. Maybe I’ll describe you while I’m fucking you.” 

Kaon’s valve twitched at that. More of his fluids accumulated around Tesarus’s finger, dripping onto the berth beneath him.

“Oh you’re into that huh? You want me to tell you how your face looks when my massive spike presses into you? I think about this every day, you know that? Having you all to myself. Fucking you until you can’t walk. Heh Tarn would have something to say about that I’m sure. Maybe some day I can bend you over his desk. Would you like that?” 

He could feel Tesarus grinning against his neck cables. “Tes… Tes please frag me.” 

“You’re not ready yet. You know that. You’re going to be incredibly tight and hot either way but I would rather not hurt you.” 

His hips twitched, rolling against the other’s large and well placed digit. Tesarus just chuckled and let Kaon fuck himself. “T-tes! F-” His voice was laced with static as he cried out from his first overload of the evening. 

“There we go. You’re almost ready.” Tesarus rumbled as he began to press a second finger into Kaon.

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Pulling Roller into his office had been the best choice Rodimus had made in months. At least as far as he was concerned. The big mech was more than eager to please, he’d practically thrown Rodimus on to his desk. Before he knew it, his panels were open and one of Roller’s hands was wrapped around both of their spikes. That large hand had set a steady pace, pulling all manner of sounds from Rodimus. 

Roller’s other hand was braced firmly against Rodimus’s lower back, keeping them pressed as flush as possible. The Prime’s own hands were braced behind him, keeping himself sitting upright on his desk. He wanted to be able to see Roller’s face after all. The other mech didn’t really give any vocal hints that he was enjoying himself. It was all physical. The flex of the hand on Rodimus’s back, the way his jaw flexed, the roar of his vents. Rodmius was lost in all these small actions. The desk scooted backwards suddenly when Roller got a little over excited and rutted against his hand. Rodimus loved knowing that he made the mech that excited.  

Rodimus gave a breathy moan after one such thrust. Roller smiled and swiped his thumb over the heads of their cocks. This pulled a shudder from Rodimus, and another much louder moan. “You sound as pretty as you look, Captain.” 

“Heh I know I am.” Rodimus smirked.

The larger mech leaned in to kiss Rodimus. Their lips crash together, Rodimus nipped Roller’s lower lip. The momentary sting was enough to send Roller over the edge. He overloaded with a grunt, transfluid spattering over his hand. A couple more strokes were all it took for Rodimus to follow, his spoiler quivering and his voice becoming static laced. He leaned forward, pressing his head against Roller’s chest.

“Roller?” 

“Yeah, Captain?” 

“I think it would be best if we…. If nobody knew about this. Can you keep this between us?” 

Roller’s face fell for only a second. Its not as if he wanted to boast, but it was pretty clear that Rodimus was embarrassed by this. He smiled and kissed the top of Rodimus’s head. “Sure thing Captain.”

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Springer had used his substantial strength to grapple Rodimus into his berth. As was their ritual. The contest of strength was all part of the game.Since that moment at least an hour had passed. Though it felt like hardly any time at all. Not with Springer’s hands roaming Rodimus’s frame, and certainly not with the way that Rodimus squirmed under him, pressing hot, wet kisses against as much of his frame as he could reach.

Springer’s dentae sunk into Rodimus’s neck cables, pulling a whine from the red mech. Rodimus returned the gesture by arching and grinding his pelvic paneling against Springer’s. Their lips suddenly met in a kiss that was all teeth and tongue. Rodimus nipped at Springer’s lip. The Wrecker pinched the Prime’s spoiler. 

“Tell me what you want, my Prime.” 

“At this point you should know.” He smirked. 

“Guess you can’t have it until you answer.” His free hand traveled down Rodimus’s frame to paw at his spike covering. 

Roddy’s optics lit up and he pressed into the other’s palm. 

“You’re beautiful when you’re impatient.” 

“So always?” Rodimus couldn’t deny that his frame was getting hotter by the second. Something about the green mech pinning him on his back always did this to him. The pressure on his array covering as his spike demanded to be free was nearly overwhelming. He denied himself this, since the display of dominance was Springer’s favorite part of this. Instead he smacked his palm against Springer’s ass. 

The bulkier mech grunted and sat up, getting a good look at Rodimus’s flushed face. “So that’s how you want it tonight?” The way he looked with that devious grin spread over his face did nothing to cool Rodimus’s frame. His big hands encircled the smaller mech’s trim waist to flip the Prime onto his belly. “What was it you wanted?” 

“Fuck me, Springer.” 

“That’s more like it. Open up.”  

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Trepan could hardly deny the appeal of the sight of the massive Phase Sixer nestled between his thighs. Something about the thick black collar and the leash Trepan now had looped around his hand had made Overlord far more obedient than usual. Though, that wasn’t without exception from time to time.

He tugged on Overlords leash. “Did I say you could stop?” 

Overlord grinned up at him. His plush lips were soaked with Trepan’s transfluids. “Sorry. I’ll just get back to it.” 

Trepan pressed his ped against Overlord’s chest. A momentary warning. “I’m sorry what?”

“I’m sorry, sir.” He shifted to move back in.

“Ask for it.” 

“May I please eat your valve, sir?” His voice dipped sensually to ask that. It sent a shiver down Trepan’s spine. He knew Overlord knew full well what he was doing to him. 

“I suppose.” He removed his ped from the other mech’s chest. 

Overlord eagerly leaned forward and pressed his lips to Trepan’s outer node. He sucked it between them, making Trepan’s back arch. His tongue swiped over the sensitive bundle of nerves. Trepan clenched his jaw, struggling to keep quiet. He’d been so close before they’d stopped before. Overlord probably knew that and had acted up accordingly. No surprise there. 

While Trepan was lost in the current flood of sensations lighting up his frame, Overlord reached up and eased one large finger into the mneumosurgeon’s valve. This was more than enough to pull a loud, unrestrained moan from Trepan. After only a few curls of Overlord’s finger, he was overloading, praise for the larger mech falling freely from his lips. 

“I thought I said no hands.” Trepan panted. 

“Heh, suppose you can punish me for that later.” Overlord chuckled, licking his finger clean

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Tyrest couldn’t stand it. Pharma had been on Luna 1 for a week and had been exhausting the entire time. He sat in his lab and drank all day. “Working” he called it. It was depressing to behold. What was the point of keeping a pretty and highly skilled medic around if he was just going to drink and cry all day? He couldn’t take it any more! It was time to make some kind gesture. That was all there was to do. 

He made his way to Pharma’s lab, taking a deep vent before entering. What was he even going to say? Maybe there was nothing he needed to say. Maybe he could just act on what he’d wanted since his optics had first landed on Pharma. He burst into the room, his cape flapping behind him. Tyrest grabbed Pharma up from his slumped position and pressed a kiss to his lips. 

Pharma pulled away. “What the hell was that?!”

“A distraction. Which you clearly need right now.” Anxiety slowly welled in his spark. This all could be a huge mistake but he was already in way too deep. His hands flexed anxiously. “You’ve been moping over Delphi since you got here. I need you to get yourself together. I didn’t bring you here so you could be pathetic.” 

Pharma grimaced. “Fine. You know what? Fine.” 

Before long, Tyrest had Pharma’s pretty little frame bent over his desk, panels wide open. He could hardly believe it. Pharma had hardly spared him an extra glance since he’d arrived. Now Tyrest was thrusting with abandon into that tight, hot, valve. Pharma gripped the edge of the desk and moaned under him. 

One particular thrust turned those moans into words. “Fuck, Tarn!” 

Tyrest paused. Tarn? Seriously? Well, that certainly answered some questions about Delphi. He went back to providing a distraction, which didn’t seem to be doing much at all. Pharma was still focused on the past. Still fantasizing about Tarn. Still missing his last position. As he overloaded, Tarn was left with the distinct impression he was never really going to be enough to keep Pharma’s mind off of the past

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Ugh. Why did her heat have to happen now? It was the worst possible time. She was knee deep in Predacon territory and now her fans were running loudly. There was a demanding pressure coming from her valve cover. “Frag.” She whispered to nobody, ducking into a cave. 

“Smells like that’s exactly what you need.”

She jumped and turned to see the hulking form of Predaking. Come on! She groaned. “Not from you.” She wished that sounded more convincing.

“Oh come now.” He rumbled, taking a few cautious step towards her. “I can hear your vents and I can smell your heat. I can help you. Don’t fear, Autobot. I will take good care of you.” 

The low timbre of his voice sent a shudder down her spinal strut. As much as she wanted to deny it, he sounded good. He looked even better. Predaking was an honorable mech. Even if he was kind of a bastard. She believed him when he said he wouldn’t hurt her. Besides that, the sooner she got a spike in her, the sooner the heat would end and she could get back to her job. “Alright. Fine. Not a word though, to anyone.” 

“You have my word, Autobot.”

“Arcee. At least use my name.” 

“Very well. You have my word, Arcee.” His hands, his way too big hands, wrapped around her waist. Her panels opened reflexively. Predaking pulled her close and pressed a heated kiss to her lips. Arcee’s optics dimmed and she kissed him back. This was all well and good but foreplay wasn’t the name of the game now. Now it was about getting to the main event. 

She laid back and pulled him on top of her. The click of his panels retracting nearly went unheard. “Come on.” She practically whined, valve clenching hungrily around nothing. 

Predaking sank his sharp teeth into her neck cables, making Arcee moan loudly. He eased his massive spike into her. Slowly. Far too slowly for her heat’s liking. Her valve stung in a way that melted rapidly into blinding pleasure. It was delicious. Her fingers dug into the plating of Predaking’s chest as the large mech proceeded to fuck her heat away. 

Ten minutes and three overloads from Arcee later, Predaking’s pace began to slow. His mouth hung open as he gasped and moaned his own way to overload. Arcee came undone again as the predacon filled her to the brim with his transfluids, quenching her heat. For now. 

“You should come to me again. If you need me.” He grinned. Far too smug.

“Yeah we’ll see.” She scoffed as she rose to her peds.

Chapter Text

With a hand on both of Percy’s thighs, Springer held them open wide. He grinned up at Percy, his optics twinkling mischievously. He glanced at Perceptor’s exposed, glistening valve. “Well ain’t you pretty.” 

The sniper flushed. It wasn’t like he’d never been in this situation before. Just not recently. “So I’ve heard.” He hated the breathy tone of his own voice, it made him sound desperate he was sure. 

Springer winked and Perceptor’s blush got somehow darker. The green mech  licked his lips before he ducked his head and ran his tongue between the lips of Perceptor’s valve. The sniper’s back arched and his mouth hung open as Springer’s tongue pressed against his node. He braced a hand on the back of Springer’s head. 

That slight touch was enough encouragement. Springer began to eat Perceptor out in earnest. 

The sniper cried out. All of the calm and finesse he maintained on the battle field were all cast carelessly aside. “Fuck! Springer you’re so good. So good. Please. Yes! Mmmm- please-” 

Springer pulled back, cocking his head, “What’re you askin for?” 

Percy whined at the lack of contact. “Don’t stop. Please Springer.” 

That’s all he needed to hear. Springer went back to work leaving Percy to babble more praise for him. He eased two digits into the other mech’s valve. The words pouring from Perceptor’s mouth dissolved into desperate, wordless moaning. 

Springer decided at that moment that this was his favorite part about interfacing with Percy. The other mech’s sound and utter loss of composure. It was gorgeous and beyond satisfying to watch the dignified mech unraveling before him.

“S-Springer!” Percy overloaded with next to no warning. Springer collected as much of the fluids trickling from his partner’s valve in his mouth. God, he tasted good.

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os chirped and trilled above him as Kaon kissed along his thighs. He wished he better understood Primal Vernacular. Kaon knew he was doing his friend a disservice by not knowing how to communicate with him. Before he reached his partner’s newly exposed valve, Kaon turned his helm up towards his partner. 

“Tap my helm twice if you want to stop, alright? Ah… tap once if that’s alright.” 

Tap. 

“Perfect.” He smiled. Kaon pressed his lips to the lips of Vos’s valve. The mech above him fidgeted. No words needed to be exchanged, nor expressions seen for Kaon to know that Vos wanted attention to be focused on his node. Who was Kaon to deny him that? His mouth moved to where Vos longed for attention the most. As he lapped at the node, Kaon wondered what Vos’s valve looked like. Surely there were biolights lining the lips. What color would they be? What color was his node when it was glowing with arousal? Oh it must be beautiful. 

Speaking of beautiful, Kaon could not deny the way the sounds from his lover made him feel. The moans, the trills he hoped were praise, and the clicks all came together like a song. Vos’s pleasure was his own personal aria, which he composed with each movement of his tongue. Arousal crackled visibly across his coils. After this he would replay those sounds in his mind while he fingered his own valve. 

Vos’s thighs trembled before he cried out in overload. Kaon eased his partner down from his high before sitting up and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I take it you enjoyed yourself?”

Suddenly, Vos’s nimble fingers had cupped his chin and tilted his helm. Vos pressed the lower part of his faceplate to Kaon’s lips in his best approximation of a kiss. The simple act of affection brought color to Kaon’s cheeks. He couldn’t help but wonder if Vos could blush too, and if he was doing so now. 

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Ordinarily, Rung liked to at least know the name of the mech pounding dents into his plating. This time was different. This time he was entrenched in a heat cycle. Sure, he had been managing it alone, but he’d made the mistake of stepping outside. 

The first mech he saw when he entered the bar was a hulking tank frame with a gorgeous face. His optics had trailed along the mech’s frame, from his broad shoulders to his thick thighs. He couldn’t help but notice how large his hands were. They’d fit perfectly around his waist, nearly engulfing him. 

They exchanged only a few words, establishing consent and not much else. A flurry of touches and a short walk later, and Rung was bent over his desk. The tank tried to ease a finger into Rung’s valve. Rung whined and glanced over his shoulder. 

“That’s not necessary, love.” 

“You sure? I’m pretty big and I-” 

“I promise. Its fine.” 

The tank shrugged. “Let me know if you change your mind.” 

After what had felt like an eternity, the tank’s spike was filling him. Rung could have sobbed from the relief of it. Finally. Finally he was being filled the way he deserved. The tank’s hands almost completely encircled his midsection. Just as he had hoped. 

“I ah have a knotting mod if you’re interested.” The mech behind him panted. It was going to be a long, perfect night.

Chapter Text

Okay so having a sparked Autobot around wasn’t exactly what he’d planned for. That was fine. Starscream was adaptable. Besides, she didn’t ask for much and had convinced the Bots that the newspark was Jetfire’s. He would deny the pang of jealousy that filled him when he thought of the two of them together. 

He wasn’t even sure who he was jealous of. 

That didn’t matter. What mattered was the femme in front of him. Her frame was sore. The sparkling that was forming took up so much of her energy. He’d managed to get his hands on some of the fanciest energon he could find. She seemed like she needed it.

“Won’t Jetfire wonder where you are?” 

“Probably.” She shrugged. “They haven’t let me actually do anything since… this.” She gestured to her chest. 

“Can’t imagine why.” He curled against her and rested his helm on her chest. “You’ve got to look out for both of you now.” 

“Yeah… Starscream, do you think it would be alright if I changed sides?”

He froze. On one hand, sure. That would be ideal. They wouldn’t have to sneak around and he could at least make a pass at acknowledging his feelings about her. On the other, Megatron being the way he was presented certain obstacles. He lifted his head to face her. No. He just had to say one single word and put this whole thing to bed. 

“I don’t see why not. We’ll make it work.” It just wasn’t worth seeing her sad. Not right now.

Chapter Text

Vos sat in Helex’s lap like he owned the place. In a way, he did. He could hardly think of a single thing he could ask of Helex that the blue mech would say no to. 

Helex was busy pressing sloppy kisses to Vos’s face plate. Vos found himself longing to kiss the big mech back, his incredibly long tongue would press against Vos’s in the best way. Helex’s primary set of hands firmly gripped his smaller partner’s thighs. One of his smaller hands was occupied with tracing the seams of Vos’s interface panel. 

“Hey, do you wanna open up your panels for me?” 

Vos trilled. Of course he did. He wanted Helex’s hands on every part of him. He nodded, just in case the bigger mech hadn’t inferred the meaning of his excited trill. His panels snapped aside, granting Helex the access he desired. 

Before he knew it, there were fingers pressed to his outer node. Vos shuddered and groaned. He buried his face in Helex’s chest. 

“Vossssss lovessss Heeelex.” His neo-cybex was good. Not great. But good enough for him to tell Helex what really mattered.

Chapter Text

“Ah! Ratchet- Please-” Pharma gasped out.

Tarn froze and grimaced. What the hell was that? Regretfully he pulled his spike out of Pharma’s all too enticing valve. 

“Tarn?” 

He put his mask back on.

“Come on Tarn it was a mistake!” 

He sighed. Of course. Of fragging course. He finally had the pretty jet he’d been pining after for entirely too long, and all Pharma could think of was someone else. It figured. Tarn pulled Pharma’s blindfold off so the other mech could see again. He didn’t need it now that Tarn’s mask was back in place. 

“Say something, Tarn. I’m sorry.” 

“It doesn’t matter.” He kept his optics off of Pharma. The other mech could read him like a book just from his optics and he really didn’t need that right now. He sighed, “Were you really thinking about him?” 

“What?” Pharma sounded repulsed. Maybe there really wasn’t anything to worry about. “No. Don’t be gross. It was just… Look its stupid. Can we get back to what we were doing? Maybe take your mind off it?” 

“Humor me, Pharma. Why did you say his name, if you weren’t imagining I was someone else?” 

Pharma sighed. His arms were draped over Tarn’s shoulders and his face was buried in his neck. “Just a stupid reflex. For a long time he was the only one I had ever- You’re the only other mech I’ve been with.” 

He turned, “Really?” 

“Ugh, please don’t make me go into details. Sure, I miss Ratchet but not like that. Its you and me now.” He sat up and offered Tarn a smile. 

Tarn returned the smile even if Pharma couldn’t see it. Well, maybe there was something to be done for this. “I think maybe we could get back to what we were doing, but without your blindfold.” 

Pharma grinned and kissed his mask, right where his mouth would be. “Sounds perfect to me.”

Chapter Text

When Tarn said the DJD shared everything, this may not have been what he had in mind. Kaon figured they would deal with it when the time came. If the time came. 

He wished he could see Pharma. From all accounts he was pretty. Like, Starscream pretty, if Tesarus was to be believed. Well, Starscream minus the whole constant treason thing. That didn’t matter. No. What mattered was the valve his tongue was dipping into. He was able to get just deep enough to press at the ceiling node of Pharma’s valve. 

Kaon’s fingers dipped into Pharma’s hip seams. It gave him a better idea of how his partner was moving. How he squirmed told Kaon how he was feeling. Or it would, if Pharma wasn’t so vocal. The medic panted and moaned louder and louder with each movement of Kaon’s tongue. 

The red mech pressed closer, trying to get deeper, taste more of the medic. His nasal ridge pressed against Pharma’s anterior node. The medic tensed and cried out below him. 

“Please! J-just a little mo-” 

Kaon couldn’t help but smile as Pharma overloaded for him. He eagerly lapped up every last ounce of the flyer’s transfluids. Pharma panted and sat up. 

“Damn.” He chuckled. “So ah, how much trouble are we going to be in when Tarn finds out?” 

Kaon opened his mouth to unleash some smart assed remark, but a low voice from his doorway stopped him. 

“He might have some requests for next time.” Tarn’s voice sent a shudder down Kaon’s spine. “If you’re going to make that much noise you may as well put on a better show.”

Chapter Text

Meetings lasted so much longer when Magnus decided to take over for Rodimus. He was so thorough. Normally it was okay. He could handle it. It was an excuse to meditate and let the less important things bounce off of him. 

Today that was not going to happen. His heat cycle had kicked in in the middle of Magnus’s speech about fire extinguishers. The second the meeting was over Drift ducked into the nearest closet. He let out a relieved sigh as his valve panel slid aside. Promptly, his fingers dipped into his valve. 

The door opened. A strange mech stood before him. 

“Ah I can go.” The mech blushed furiously. 

“You don’t have to.” Drift groaned. 

“If you want me to. Its not that I don’t want to but I ah as long as you’re sure.” 

Drift reached over and tugged the other mech into the closet. Suddenly there were hands on his frame. He was pressed as close as possible to the other mech. The other mech kissed at his neck cables and murmured praise to him. His spike pressed into Drift’s soaking wet and far too sensitive valve. He rolled his hips against the other mech, fucking himself on the other’s spike. 

The other mech moaned and held him up as best he could. “You’re so pretty Drift. So curvy a-and graceful!” Drift’s valve clenched hungrily at the praise. There was a kink he didn’t know he had. He overloaded around the other mech. 

“Did you wanna stop?” The other mech asked.

Drift shook his head and started moving his hips again. He hoped the other didn’t have any plans for the day

Chapter Text

Cyclonus always preferred the most isolated booth in Swerve’s. The lighting was dim and nobody bothered him. It was perfect for drinking alone. It was also great for when Tailgate started getting handsy. 

His panels had opened within moments of Tailgate pawing at them. 

“Have I mentioned lately how much I like your cheeks? They’re so pointy and compliment the rest of your face.” 

It wasn’t the most articulate thing he’d ever heard but damn if it wasn’t genuine. He loved that about Tailgate. He meant everything he said. The smaller mech slowly stroked at Cyclonus’s spike. 

“Do you think anyone can see us?” Not like Tailgate would mind. “I hope they can. I hope they can see how good you look when you’re flushed.” 

Cyclonus’s fans were running far too loudly. His lips parted. All he could do was pant and try to focus on his drink like nothing was happening. What if someone did see? Maybe they’d like to join. Maybe he could watch as they brought Tailgate to overload over and over….

The mini’s thumb swiped over the head of his spike, and Cyclonus brought his hand to his mouth to muffle his sudden moan. “You’re not listening!” Tailgate whined. “If you want me to stop-”

“Don’t. Please.” Never in his life would he have predicted that this would be his life. Being jerked off by a perky minibot in a relatively crowded bar. 

“Lovely!” His hand started moving again and Cyclonus nearly groaned with relief. “Now, where was I? Oh right! You’re gorgeous. Especially your voice. If any of these mechs could hear you when I’m fucking you… I’d have to fight each and every one off.” 

Cyclonus whined around his knuckles. The idea of being fought for only drew him closer to overload. 

“I love you Cylconus.” 

He overloaded. His face grew hot with embarrassment. Swerve would certainly find the aftermath of this later. 

“I love you too Tailgate, but we really need to pay and leave.” 

“Alright, I can’t wait to get you all alone.”

Chapter Text

Magnus had bent his mech over his desk. The thing was a mess anyway. This was really the best thing that could happen. Besides, the last week of his life had been miserable. Someone had given Rodimus an air horn. Magnus was more than a little tense. His soon to be conjunx had sat in his lap and nibbled at his neck cables until Magnus couldn’t stand the teasing any longer. 

His hands gripped tightly around the smaller mech’s hips. He thrust wildly into him. This was the first time in entirely too long that he was actually able to vent. His optics trailed down the other mech’s curved spinal strut to where his spike disappeared into the other’s valve again and again. 

Paint had already transferred from his thighs to their aft. The other mech’s fingers dug into the surface of his desk, gouging it. He’d have to fix that. Buff that out and polish the desk. Then organize it. First he could clean up his lover’s thighs. Polish them until they shined. They were moaning his name and all he could think of was how good they would look once he was done cleaning them. 

Magnus overloaded with a low groan. His partner wasn’t far behind. They loved the way his transfluids filled and stretched them. “Thank you. This has really helped me clear my head.”

He looked over his shoulder at Magnus. “Heh you dork. I love you.”

Chapter Text

Tarn had admired Pharma’s medical skill since he’d, for lack of a better word, arranged their deal. He’d get tcogs and Pharma wouldn’t have to watch his clinic go up in flames. All in all, a fair deal. Better than any that the DJD had offered anyone else. 

He hadn’t anticipated growing attracted to the medic and he certainly hadn’t anticipated the feeling being mutual. Pharma had come to him, voluntarily this time, and seated himself in Tarn’s lap. Less in his lap, and more straddling his thigh. He’d leaned in, hands trailing along his chest and toying with his biolights. Tarn was completely helpless under those skilled hands. His own came to caress the small of Pharma’s back.The medic’s mouth was on his neck, pulling a rumbling moan from Tarn. 

“I know how you look at me, Tarn.” Pharma rolled his hips and, Megatron help him, Tarn could feel the heat radiating from the pretty jet’s panels. “You’re beautiful you know. It is completely wasted with you living in shadow.” 

“I- I do look at you. More than I should.” His voice shook. He hadn’t done this in entirely too long. And never with someone else actively seeking him out. It was new and intimidating to hear praise. 

“Because I’m an Autobot?” 

There were fingers pressing at his panel. More gentle than insistent. He wondered if that was the medic hands being more sensitive than anyone else’s, or if it was just Pharma’s own consideration. Either way, he appreciated it. “Yes. Because you’re an Autobot.” 

“We can just forget about that for now. We can pretend you’ve talked me over to your side.” He said, nipping at one of Tarn’s neck cables. “If you want to.” 

“More than anything.” He murmured. Tarn’s panels slid aside, and Pharma’s fingers slipped into his valve like they belonged there. His lips parted as he panted while Pharma’s deft fingers eased in and out of him. Like this, his mask was stifling but taking it off wasn’t an option. He couldn’t just be immediately seduced by a Autobot and go showing him his face. 

“Why don’t we take this back to your berth, and I’ll show you what these hands can really do.” 

Pharma made surrendering to him sound so good. So easy and natural. Like being beneath the medic was what he’d been made for. Tarn stood, his arms holding Pharma against his chest, his legs on either side of Tarn’s hips. “As you wish.”

Chapter Text

Windblade looked up at Strongarm from her spot between her thighs. The cop bot was propped up on her elbows so that she could watch Windblade work. Not like Windblade minded being watched. In fact it excited her. Especially with how flushed and utterly breathless Strongarm was. 

She winked which pulled a groan from Strongarm which dissolved almost instantly into a high pitched moan. Windblade had gone back to lapping at her outer node. Her fingers sliding easily in and out of Strongarm’s wet channel, which flexed around them. She curled her fingers to better stroke the other femme’s ceiling node. 

Strongarm cried out wordlessly, her back curving beautifully. As much as she hated to, Windblade pulled off of the swollen, glowing outer node. “Quiet, love. You don’t want to wake the rest of the team.” 

“Windy, please.” She whined, her hips twitching. “Please. I’ll be good. I’ll be quiet.”

“You better be. Fix-It’s a light sleeper, after all.” 

Chapter Text

Vos hadn’t been sleeping well. Too many nightmares of Cybertron before the war had been keeping him up. He was forced in his recharge to remember the centuries upon centuries of isolation he had been forced into. Having an unconventional alt mode had kept him out of polite society. His nightmares were always dark and claustrophobic. And lonely. So lonely. He woke, trembling violently.

Slowly, and silently Vos clambered from his berth. He made his way down the hall to where Kaon was resting peacefully. The Pet was curled up under his berth, and Vos moved swiftly so as not to wake him. He prodded at his friend. 

“Kaaaaaooon.” He whispered.

Kaon sat up, his helm slowly turning to Vos. “Wha? Vos? Are you okay?” 

He paused. He couldn’t remember the words. Questions were always hard. The linguistic work arounds, the tone, all of it. He took a deep vent and tried. “Kaaaaooon hold Vosssss? Vosssss cannot sssssleep.” 

Kaon nodded, his lips twitching into a gentle smile. “Yeah Vos. I can do that.” To Vos’s delight he scooted aside to make room for him. 

Vos wordlessly climbed onto the berth and curled tight against his partner’s side. His hands clung desperately to him. He whispered his thanks in old Cybertronian, hoping the meaning came through. 

“No problem, love.” Kaon said sleepily before pressing a kiss to the top of his helm.

Chapter Text

The smaller mech wrapped tight around his spike was more perfect than Tesarus was prepared for. Vos arched and chittered something in old Cybertronian. He had no idea what he was saying. His hands squeezed at Vos’s hips.

“I have no idea what you’re saying.” He panted. “Shake your head for stop.” 

Vos glanced over his shoulder, his optics squinted. “Vosssss happy.” 

Perfect. Tesarus groaned. He thrust away into Vos’s small, tight valve. He’d been watching the gunformer for so long. Imagining this exact scenario, holding the mech’s hips in his hands and essentially using him as a spike sleeve. 

With one final, rough thrust Tesarus overloaded inside of Vos, his optics going bright. He eased the small mech off his spike and laid back onto his berth. Vos clambered up to cuddle against Tesarus’s chest. 

“Gnight Vos.” 

Vos bumped his faceplate against Tesarus’s chest. He imagined the smaller mech was saying good night too

Chapter Text

“Optics online.” Tarn pinched roughly at the tip of Pharma’s wing, without missing a beat. “Optics on me, love.” 

Pharma whined and locked his optics on Tarn’s face. Tarn’s authoritative tone sent a shiver down his back strut. His wings twitched. “Tarn please.” 

“No no, love.” He grinned. Tarn loved every moment of this. All of Pharma’s attention was on him. Just what he wanted. “You need to keep your eyes on me. That way you don’t forget who’s fucking you.” He purred, his voice low and just barely tinged with his talent. 

Pharma squirmed under him. “I can’t forget. You’re on top of me!” 

Tarn rolled his hips, his own optics going dim as Pharma’s valved flexed around him. “I was on top of you last time too, love.” 

Pharma’s fingers dug into his shoulders. “I- I know. I’m sorry.” 

“Say my name, Pharma.” His talent was laced in every word, tugging at Pharma’s spark. Tugging the jet closer to overload.

“T- Tarn.” He gasped, overloading around the thick spike inside him. His optics going bright, fans roaring. 

“Damn right.” Tarn grinned, pressing his scarred lips to Pharma’s. 

Chapter Text

Magnus couldn’t believe that he had been so inconsiderate! How could he have gotten so much paint transferred onto their plating. It was streaked and uneven, which was jarring to his eyes. He hated the imperfection painting his lover. Especially the knowledge that he had done it to them. 

“I am sorry.” He looked up at them from his position between their thighs. 

“Its fine, Magnus. I wouldn’t interface with, well, anyone if I wasn’t alright with some paint transfers.” They chuckled. 

He returned to cleaning off their legs. They would shine the way they deserved soon enough. “Still. I don’t like that we can’t do it without marring you.” 

His mate tugged him up from his position. “How about we don’t worry about this right now?”

“But I-” 

“Please?” They asked, optics softened with affection. They pressed a gentle kiss to Magnus’s lips. He wondered if it was just to keep him quiet even as he kissed back. “I just want to be held right now.” 

Magnus paused for a moment. But only a moment. Then he melted. There was no way he could say no to them. Not with a request like that. “Oh! Of course. First thing in the morning though, we’ll get you cleaned up.” 

“Alright then, you’ve got a deal.”

He shifted so that he was laying beside them and pulled them close to his chest. “Thank you, my dear, for keeping me from worrying too much.” 

Chapter Text

Drift’s fingers absentmindedly traced over Rodimus’s chestplates. “When do you think Ratchet’s coming home?” 

Rodimus looked at him, head cocked. “Are you serious Drift? Heh you’ve been with him longer than I have shouldn’t you know what time he’s coming home?” 

“I guess!” He huffed, “Still. I do miss him when he’s not here.” 

“I know.” Rodimus sighed. He draped an arm over Drift and cuddled close to him. “I guess you’ll have to settle for me.” 

As if on cue Ratchet trudged through the door. His shoulders were hunched and his optics dimmed. He made his way to the berth the three of them shared as though on autopilot. 

“Hi Ratchet.” Drift perked up. He was going to mention his love’s agitated aura. Ratchet, however, simply crawled onto the berth and wedged himself between the two younger mechs. 

“I assume you two weren’t too bored without me.” 

“Drift was.” Rodimus offered, now snuggled against Ratchet’s side. 

“Rodimus hush!” His cheeks went dark. Ratchet didn’t need to know Drift missed him the whole time he was gone! He had a reputation after all.  

Ratchet tugged Drift close and kissed his forehead. “Its alright. I figured as much.” 

“How was work?” Drift asked, his optics dimming as he rested his head on Ratchet’s chest. His hand wandered across his plating until it met with Rodimus’s. 

“Our Captain seems to have amassed the highest concentration of morons possible.” 

“Hey!” Rodimus pouted. 

“Its not your fault. Hey, lets not talk about my job.” 

The younger mechs both settled in, cuddling up on either side of Ratchet. It was better if they were quiet. They didn’t need to talk.

Chapter Text

A swish of his hips and a coy shifting of his wings was all it took for Starscream to steal away all of Rodimus’s attention. His optics locked on the dangerous mech as he chatted away. His plating glistened, keeping Rodimus captivated. 

Another fake laugh. 

Rodimus sipped from his drink and leaned against the bar. His hip cocked to accentuate the curve of his waist. It was one of his prettier features in his opinion. It invited hands to rest above his hips. Only if the belonged to the right mech. The right seeker. 

With an agitated sight, Rodimus pulled his eyes away from the scene before him. He turned to hunch over the bar. Some other mech had curled his arm around Starscream’s waist. Like he owned him. Like it was his right. Rodimus’s hand gripped his glass a little tighter. Just who did this mech think he was? Starscream deserved someone of some degree of importance. 

Like a Prime. 

The memories of their last evening together played through his helm. The way Starscream had sighed his name and he curled against Rodimus’s chest had to mean something. Didn’t it? Not love, surely but something. It didn’t really matter. He was annoyed, yes, but he didn’t have the right to be. He wasn’t Starscream’s and Starscream wasn’t his. Maybe that other mech was special. Not like he could ever really live up to Rodimus. Prime or not, Rodimus was gorgeous, charming, and not at all bad at interfacing if he did say so himself. 

Rodimus’s attention was grabbed by a pair of hands resting on his hips. He whipped around. “Starscream?” 

Lips were pressed against his mouth. Starscream hummed before pulling away. Rodimus was stunned. The honey sweet taste of Starscream lingered on his lips. A smiled tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“You look so sad.” Starscream pouted. “Is it because I waited so long to come see you?” 

“That other mech had his hands all over you.” The words left him whether he liked it or not. Ironically being around Starscream made it hard to lie.

“Yes he did do that didn’t he.” Starscream smirked. Of course. He would have been playful about this. Teasing Rodimus like it was his job. “You wished it was you, don’t you.” 

Starscream’s hand was traveling up his thigh, making Rodimus warmer than usual. “I do.” 

“Me too.” Starscream purred. Rodimus squirmed as the other’s fingers began pressing at his panels. “There was a reason I saved you for last. Take me home with you?”

Chapter Text

Nautica was more than happy to bounce on Skids’s spike. It was ribbed in all the right places and thicker than anyone would expect. Her hands braced on his shoulders. The slight changed in her angle had the head of his spike hitting her ceiling node harder than ever. 

With each rise and fall of her hips a moan fell from Skids’s lips. His hands squeezed just a little too roughly at the dip in her waist. It was practically made for his hands. His own hips thrust up to meet hers. 

She buried her face in Skids’s neck, her mouth hanging open to pant hot breaths against his cables. Her fingertips dug into his shoulder seams as her valve rippled around his thick spike. “Fuck- Skids! How are you so ha- good?” She panted. 

Nautica’s hips had stilled. She was seemingly distracted by mouthing at Skids’s neck, a known weakspot of his. He didn’t mind though. He simply rutted up into her, at what he had calculated as the perfect angle for the way her valve was made. “Benefit of being a quick learner I guess.” He chuckled and sped up his movements. 

Oh he’d found just the right spot. She kissed his lips. “A quick study and a sweet amica? How did I get so-” Nautica cut herself off with a moan as her overload crashed over her. 

Skids wasn’t far behind, only a few thrusts later his transfluids filled her up. Nautica pulled off of his spike, letting his release trickle from her as she settled beside him. Skids curled around her. “We’ll get cleaned up in a bit. For now, I just want to rest with you.” She said with a smile. 

Skids nodded. “Alright. And then round two, right?”

Chapter Text

Marissa could hardly believe herself as Thundercracker nudged her legs apart. She was relaxed in his hand, flesh already hot. It had all been his idea. She couldn’t remember now, her thoughts hazy with arousal, what it was exactly that he had said to her. She had never wanted to get too close. He was a giant metal alien after all, and a soldier. He wasn’t likely to stick around too long. At first. Now he was here on Earth by her side all the time. It was hard not to get attached, and with Thundercracker being, well, Thundercracker, it was hard not to fall for him. 

He was damn near human. Only damn near though. 

“Heh. Look at you, you’re beautiful.” He smiled. His voice had snapped Marissa out of her thoughts. 

“Don’t go getting mushy on me. We agreed, no feelings attached.” It was better that way. He could leave any second and she could never see him again. It was better not to let either of them get attached. 

His smiled dropped, but only for a second. “You’re right. Sorry Marissa.” Before he could spoil the mood again, Thundercracker leaned in and ran the tip of her tongue along her slit. She bit her lip and hummed. That incredibly long tongue and slipped down to her entrances and was pressing its way inside her. She clenched around the slick intrusion. 

It was best to keep him at a distance, but Thundercracker was going to make her work for it.

Chapter Text

He’d been restless to say the least. Waspinator was sure it wasn’t a heat cycle but it felt pretty damn close to one. He knew he shouldn't do anything about the heat building behind his panels, but Windblade wasn’t supposed to be home for another hour and it wasn’t like he wouldn’t be watching the her apartment. Nobody would ever have to know. It was wrong and terrible but he needed to do something. If Windblade, sweet as she was, found out, maybe she wouldn't be angry. Maybe she would still let him be her friend. 

Before he knew it, Waspinator was moaning softly while rutting into a pillow. Nobody was supposed to ever know he did this! It was shameful and dirty but he was so alone. If any bot had wanted to be his mate oh he would love them so much! Windblade would be nice. She would tell him he was a good bot! He would believe it and tell her she was beautiful and smart and all of those things that she very much was. Oh she would moan and arch under him, her mouth would curve up at the edges when she said she loved him. Then he would-

The door opened.

He froze. 

“Wasp? I got out of that meeting early are you-” Windblade! Now she would hate him! He’d be without a friend again! It was his own fault!

He looked up, optics dim from shame and lust, from his hunched position. “Wazzzpinator is sorry.” 

 Before he’d really processed what was going on, her hand was wrapped around his spike which he hadn’t realized was pressurized and exposed. How embarrassing. He shuddered and pressed closer to her. 

“Are you alright, Waspinator?” She had breathed against his audial. Her hand slowly slip up his rigged, dripping spike. 

He nodded. “Yezzzz Wazzzpinator is alright. Izzzz Windblade zzure about thizzz?” This was strange. He was sitting on her couch, legs spread obscenely while the prettiest bot he’d ever met stroked his spike. 

She couldn’t be. There was no way she was alright with all of this. Yet she smiled and nodded. Her optics were so soft and the corners of her mouth turned up. The way he always pictured. “Of course I am dear, why wouldn’t I be?” 

The light touch and the fact that it was her doing it- Waspinator overloaded. It hadn’t taken long at all. “Wazzzpinator izz zzorry.” 

Windblade leaned down and pressed her cherry lips to his helm. “Go get cleaned up dear. Then you can make it up to me.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

It had taken quite some time for Rung to convince him to wear the collar. Starscream was a dignified mech, after all. He wouldn’t bow his helm for Megatron, what made the glasses clad psychiatrist think that he would be allowed to dominate him in any way? Still, he had agreed to try. A thick, heavy collar now felt like a necessary part of their session. Its weight was a comfort to him, rather than a source of shame. Before now, Starscream had never seen submission as anything other than a source of shame. That was the past. He was supposed to focused on the present. Only the present. That was the one of the purposes of this practice after all. 

Rung had his back to Starscream, giving the seeker’s mind a chance to wander as it was prone to do. His fingers traced over the collar. How many other mechs had been like this, he wondered. How many others had worn this collar? How many had Rung had these sessions with? Something sat at the edge of his spark. Something uncomfortable but all too familiar. Jealousy was an ugly thing. Especially when he had no business feeling it. Rung was not his. He was not Rung’s. The second their sessions ended, that was it for the smaller mech. It didn’t matter that as each week passed by, thoughts of him came unbidden to Starscream more an more frequently. 

He knelt almost reverently before Rung. His wings were held high, quivering from what he was sure was anticipation and not nerves. Rung held out before him a soft looking strip of fabric. 

“A blindfold?” 

“Correct.” 

He swallowed. The collar was one thing. Not being able to see? That was something else. Something foreign. A degree of trust Starscream had never approached with any mech. This was Rung though. A mech like Rung could not hurt him. Nor would he. He was sure of that. 

“If you’re not comfortable with this-”

“I am.” His voice and resolve only barely held themselves together. 

“Alright. Remember your safeword?” 

“Of course.” 

The blindfold was wrapped securely around his helm. For the briefest of moments, Starscream enjoyed the proximity to the other mech. It was nearly an embrace. He longed for that kind of safety but that would be asking far too much. Maybe someday that would change, but for now his panels slid aside obediently.

Chapter Text

Being the captain of the Lost Light came with a certain degree of isolation. Rodimus was kept at arm’s length from the other mechs aboard his ship at all times. It didn’t bother him for the most part. His status as Prime had gotten him used to it.  It was lonely and he had convinced himself he didn’t mind. 

Except now. 

Rodimus had barricaded himself in his room to try and ride out his heat cycle on his own. He knew it was going to be uncomfortable and take entirely too long but what else was he supposed to do? The captain couldn’t very well sleep with his crew. It was wrong. Nothing he did was enough though and his frame felt like he was going to melt. His panels were open and his fingers were buried deep in his dripping wet, hot valve. For the next moment or so, he could relax after a less than satisfying overload. The discomfort would be back though. He needed a mech. Any mech. 

His mind couldn’t help but wander to Drift. A gorgeous mech with a smile that nearly stopped his spark, and thighs that could turn the heads of blind mechs. Drift didn’t count as the crew, right? Technically the Lost Light was Drift’s ship, so it would be okay to text him. It was okay for Drift to spend the night. It was okay for his best friend to fuck him until he couldn’t walk, and put a stop to this god awful heat. Without thinking, he had sent the text. He was only left for a moment or two to wonder if he should have sent a picture. 

It didn’t matter. There was a knock at his door and Rodimus was there, tugging Drift inside. Their lips met in a heated kiss, tongues rushing to press and tangle together. Rodimus’s  hands trailed along Drift’s sides, coming to rest at his hips. Drift, for his part, was already leading them both to the berth. 

Rodimus tumbled back onto his berth, letting his legs fall open. He hadn’t even noticed that his partner’s panels had opened already. Drift hovered above him and kissed him again. 

“Hey, you’re sure you want this?” 

“More than anything.” 

“Good.” Drift grinned, a flash of his old dangerous self in his optics. He surged forward, seating his spike fully inside the Prime. Rodimus’s back arched, and his fingers dug into Drift’s plating. It was perfect. It was so much more than enough. The soft moans against his audial, the nips to his neck cables, the far thicker than he’d ever imagined spike that filled him perfectly, and the fact that it was Drift. 

As the first of countless overloads hit him, Rodimus couldn’t help but wish he’d thought of this sooner. Some of the discomfort finally began leaving his frame as Drift’s transfluid filled him. He curled around his best friend after the other mech pulled out. 

“You know I love you right, Rodimus?” Drift sounded unsure. Hesitant. As if there was any doubt about what the other would say. 

Rodimus smiled and kissed the other’s cheek. “I know. Me too.”  

Chapter Text

Strongarm couldn’t help but pout. What was the point of have a gorgeous femme riding her spike if she couldn’t touch her? The blue femme’s arms strained at the cuffs that kept her arms locked above her head. 

Windblade stilled, pulling a whine from Strongarm. “Easy there love, you wouldn’t want to have to explain why you’ve broken your cuffs.” She smirked. 

“I just want to touch you is all.” She huffed. A blush spread over her cheeks. How dare Windblade look at her like that? Optics all dim, lips parted slightly. She was practically begging to be kissed and Strongarm wasn’t allowed to do that. Not that she didn’t love being at the other’s mercy. She rolled her hips up into Windblade’s valve. 

Windblade’s fingers traced down Strongarm’s chestplates. “My, what a naughty and impatient thing you are. Maybe if you ask me nicely I’ll move for you. Would you like that?” 

“Yes.” 

“Yes what?” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

And yet Windblade did not move. She sat up and cocked her helm, a smirk playing across her lips. “I’m sorry, what was it you wanted?” 

“Please move Windblade!” She had been so close and now her overload was rapidly ebbing away. 

Windblade leaned back down and kissed her. “As you wish, love.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

When she heard the door to the dark, little room they’d been keeping her in, she perked up. Oh how she hoped it was Vos. She couldn’t see him yet though. It was dark and her view was obstructed. The rest of the DJD wasn’t terrible, but Vos was special. The others would come in and drop something on the ground for her to eat and leave. They did seem quite intent on keeping her alive. Something about “Leverage” and “Bait”. It didn’t matter. Once they realized the Autobots wouldn’t want her or see a need to trade one of their own for a short lived human, that would be it. 

Maybe not though. Vos was there. Vos was different than the rest of the DJD. He would come in whenever he felt like it and sit there and talk to her. Since she couldn’t understand a single thing he said, the first couple of times were terrifying. He could be saying anything! For all she had been aware, he was graphically describing different ways to kill a human. Regardless, she sat there, legs crossed over each other, and listened to Vos. The chitters and trills and clicks of his language had a certain eerie beauty that only grew the longer she listened. 

One day, Vos had come in. He was visibly upset and made his way directly to the corner she was stuck in. Fear lanced through her. She had wanted more than anything to run, but being chained to the wall meant she wouldn’t get far. So she had closed her eyes and resigned herself to her fate. It had been a shock when he sat down and gently pulled her into his lap. His hand cupped her head and ran down her back. He chittered, sounding more exhausted than he usually did. It took her a moment to realize that he was petting her. Comfort and warmth filled her and she pressed closer to him. 

That became their new custom. Vos would come to her and pet her and tell her about his day. She was more than a little proud to be his confidant. 

Today was the same, as she had hoped. Vos came in and sat near her before pulling her into his lap. She placed her hands on his chest and looked up at him. He cocked his head. 

“I love you. I know you can’t understand me but… its important that I say that. No matter what happens. I love you.” 

He lowered his head and pressed it gently against hers. She hoped that meant he understood and maybe reciprocated a little. Maybe he was as lonely as she was. Maybe she was a bit more than a hostage to him.

Chapter Text

Lobe hated this. Hated the other mneumosurgeon. He didn’t even know why. That was the part he hated the most. He didn’t know why he loathed Trepan so much and he certainly didn’t know why he gut twisted the way it did when he saw him talking to that other mech. 

Sure, Trepan smiled and laughed when Overlord was around. Sure, he flirted and touched the big mech’s arm. It was all fake. It was fake and being fake came so easy to Trepan didn’t it? He grimaced. That’s why he hated him, he decided. Trepan could fake it around everyone except for Lobe, who he merely shrugged off. Lobe was just a coworker. Someone to be kept at arm’s length for the sake of something so trivial as professionalism.

They were lovers. They had to be. How disgusting. The thought of Trepan’s delicate frame being ravaged by someone as brutish as Overlord infuriated him. How dare Trepan lower himself to such a base level as to allow that beast to touch him. His hand tightened on the datapad he was holding. 

Lobe huffed and turned away. They didn’t know that he was even there, so he could leave without explanation. Still, as he stalked down the halls, the visual of Trepan and Overlord together would not leave him be. Trepan’s lips parted, and face flushed. Overlord’s mouth at his throat. Their bodies moving in heated unison. Trepan would be absolutely beautiful. Lobe couldn’t shake the thoughts of what he would sound like. What it would be like if it was him that had the other and not Overlord. 

It should be him! What did that other mech have that he didn’t? Was he not reputable, talented, and far more gentle than Overlord? Was he not better in every way? Would his gentle hands not feel better against Trepan’s plating? Wouldn’t his spike fit better deep within Trepan’s valve? He huffed and ducked into the closest closet. 

He knew the only way to shake these thoughts was to overload. The mind did stupid things when it was filled with desire. His panels slid open. He knew he would hate himself when he was done. As soon as the shame ebbed away, but if it cleared his mind, he’d accept the consequences.

Chapter Text

Megatron grunted as Optimus pressed him up against the wall of his cell. His large index finger tracing the swirling decals of Megatron’s chest. The warlord’s vents hitch for just a second. The Autobot crowding him sent a thrill down his spine. When was the last time Optimus touched him like this? Centuries surely. He wasn’t going to complain. 

“These are new.” He observed, his mask clicking aside. 

Megatron couldn’t help but smile. Optimus always had pretty lips, and the jawline of an archetypal hero. Which he was. At least as far as the Autobots were concerned. “They are. I figured if I was getting a new frame anyway it couldn’t hurt.” 

Not to mention, he was going to be put on trial. It was going to be televised. Everyone was going to see him and he would be damned if he was going to be presented as some worn down old mech past his prime. He was going to go out dignified if he had anything to say about it.

Optimus lowered his helm and pressed his lips to the decals. “I like them. They suit you.” His hands came to grip at Megatron’s hips. The grey mech swallowed back a moan. “God, I’ve missed you.” 

Megatron reached up to cup Optimus’s chin, tilting his helm up and crashing their lips together hungrily. It was better this way. If he talked too much he would give away how much he had missed this too. The Prime’s grip shifted, grabbing his thighs and hiking them up to wrap around his hips. Megatron nipped at his lips. 

“Open up for me?” 

He paused for only a second. Prime’s spike was pressing hard against his valve cover. When had his panels opened? It didn’t matter. Megatron was more than happy to comply. His panels slid aside and Optimus surged forward. His spike fit so perfectly inside of Megatron, as if it was made for him.  

Optimus’s mouth was on his throat. Wet, hot, needy kisses covered the cables there. “You’re so beautiful. I’ve missed this. Missed you.” Megatron’s back arched. “Your valve is so fucking perfect. Just like the rest of you.” 

Megatron shifted his hips, letting Optimus fuck him deeper. Every stroke of his spike hitting his ceiling node. “Flatterer.” It came out as a whine, his fingers digging into Optimus’s plating. 

“You get off on it. Don’t lie.” 

Of course he did. He loved the way Optimus sounded when his voice was husky from interface. He especially loved when Optimus praised him. Never enough to actively seek it. He would never ask for it. Optimus didn’t need to know how needy he made Megatron. 

“It’s not that. Its- ah- its the rest of you.” His valve clenched. Optimus’s thrusts stutter for a moment. Megatron could tell he was close. 

“Oh I’m sure. You’re just so good. So good for me.” 

Megatron let out a low moan, burying his face in Optimus’s neck. He overloaded far harder than he’d expected. His valve tightening around Optimus, as if trying to pull him deeper. 

One, two, three strokes later and Optimus overloaded inside of him. After fucking him through the overload, Optimus eased himself out of Megatron. His overload dribbled down the warlord’s thigh as Optimus lowered him onto his berth. 

“We can never do this again.” 

“I know.” It was just like Optimus not to allow him a quiet afterglow. 

“I’m sorry Megatron.” 

“I know, Optimus. I am a dead mech and its better for both of that way.” 

“May I see you again before your trial?”

His tanks churned at that. Stupid Optimus. He didn’t have to ask that. He didn’t have to take this down this route. Megatron closed his optics. He opened his mouth to tell him no, but found himself unable to perform such cruelty. “I would like that.” 

Chapter Text

There wasn’t much that could shut Swerve up. They both knew that. But Magnus was sure he had figured out something that was nearly guaranteed to work. 

He had  lifted Swerve with ease and laid him on his desk. His massive palm came to paw at the smaller mech’s panels. Swerve whined and turned to look over his shoulder at Magnus. 

“Mags please.” His voice sounded strained. “Come on. You know I don’t like being teased and we both know you won’t really in- interface with me on your desk. And besides-” 

Magnus huffed. If he didn’t stop him, Swerve was going to ramble and Primus only knew how long he would go for. “If you want me to frag you open your panels please.” 

“Yes sir.” He squeaked, his valve panel snapping open. Swerve visibly shuddered as the air hit his already dripping wet valve. “Oh man. I can’t believe we’re really gonna do this. I mean, are you sure you wanna do this? We don’t have to. I could go. We could forget we even thought of it and never talk about it again.” 

“Swerve, please be quiet.” Magnus’s own panels opened, his massive spike pressurizing. If they hadn’t already interfaced on several occasions he would worry that the other’s valve couldn’t take him. As it was, he knew that Swerve could take him without a problem. Especially with how wet he was already. 

“Oh! Right. Sorry. I don’t know why I’m- Mmmm” 

He was cut off by Magnus’s spike sliding into him and stretching him wide. The larger mech set a brutal pace. The desk below them rocked along with his hips. One large hand gripped his hip while the other braced on his back. Paperwork cascaded onto the ground, and Magnus fought to ignore it. Maybe he could get Swerve to help him with it later. 

The smaller mech scrabbled at the surface of the desk. His fingers occasionally leaving red paint streaks on its surface. Again, Magnus ignored it. This time it was so much easier because Swerve’s valve had fluttered and clenched around him in a way that nearly had him seeing stars. Fully seated within Swerve, Magnus couldn’t help but wonder if the mini’s gut plating was bulge out a little to make room for his spike. His teeth sank into his lower lip as he bit back a moan imagining that. He would have to investigate later. Make Swerve squirm on top of him. 

He hadn’t noticed that he had changed his pace until Swerve started moaning louder than before. Evidently he had overloaded. Magnus could tell by the fluids leaking out around his spike a spattering on the floor. Poor over-sensitive thing. 

“Ah! I- I love you, Mags.” 

That was all it took to tip Magnus over the edge he hadn’t realized he had been on. He overloaded inside of Swerve who arched under him. Magnus panted and leaned over. He pressed a kiss to the plating between Swerve’s shoulders. “You will be helping me clean this up.” 

Chapter Text

“Heh are you sure about this Minimus?” Megatron hovered on his knees, almost straddling Minimus Ambus. The smaller mech’s pressurized spiked twitched eagerly between them. 

He propped himself up on his elbows and cocked his helm. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Wh- I could crush you!” 

Minimus’s hand came to rest on Megatron’s thigh plating. “I’m a load bearer, I can take it. Please Megatron, don’t make me beg.” 

Oh. Oh, well, how could he possibly deny him when he said it like that? The purr in his tone. The heat in his optics. Megatron’s valve clenched on nothing. Still, he maintained some self control. “I think I might like to hear you beg.” 

Minimus fidgeted. The heat from Megatron’s valve did nothing to lessen the stiffness of his spike. He reached up and palmed at the other mech’s node, making Megatron gasp. “Please Megatron? I need you. I’ve never needed another mech like this.” 

Megatron’s optics were hazy, a blush had crawled its way up his cheek. Minimus was quite satisfied with his work thus far. “Alright, my love. But only because you asked so nicely.” 

He lowered himself slowly onto Minimus’s spike. The smaller mech arched and moaned beneath him. The heat, the wetness, it was all so perfect. Especially given the mech it was all attached to. He couldn’t remember the last time he had trusted another mech to see him outside of his suit, let alone ride him. It only seemed fitting that he was doing this with Megatron. Megatron who was coming utterly undone from even the slightest stimulation to his valve. Megatron who had already overloaded. 

“I- I’m sorry. This… this almost never happens. I don’t use my valve really.” 

“It is alright, Megatron.” He could easily finish himself in the washrack if needed. 

“Would you like me to help you out with…” 

He was so flustered and blushy. Admittedly, Minimus found it incredibly endearing. “I would like that.”

Chapter Text

Arcee huffed beneath the insecticon. She hadn’t bothered to remember his name. It was hardly important after all. He tugged her hips up to meet each thrust of his own, but it wasn’t nearly enough. 

She glanced over her shoulder, “I thought you said you could fill me up right. If this is all you’ve got I’ll have to get help elsewhere.” 

The mech snarled, his arm suddenly wrapping around her chest and tugging her upright so she was pressed against his chest. “I was being gentle for your benefit, little autobot. If you wish, I can go much harder.” 

She smirked and turned to bite harshly at his neck cables. “Try me.” She replied huskily. 

With that she was back on the ground. This time the nameless insecticon began to rut into her in earnest. He was much rougher than before, pulling a mix of moans and curses from Arcee. 

“That’s- ah- that’s it big mech.” She groaned, back arching and fingers scrabbling at the ground. Her valve squeezed around the spiked seated inside her with ridges hitting every single one of her nodes. His rough pace kept each of those nodes alight with arousal. 

The insecticon growled behind her, his pace stuttering. With only that little bit of warning, Arcee was filled with thick, sticky, transfluids. The feeling of fullness, the warmth, all of it was what it took to push her over the edge too. She slowly, reluctantly pulled herself off of the insecticon’s spike. 

“You wanna stay here? I could go for a second round.”

Chapter Text

Vos could not remember the last time he woke up this rested. His helm rested comfortably on Kaon’s chest. The other mech’s spark whirred away under him. He loved that. The sweet sound reassured him that Kaon was there. That he was real and alive. 

The realization struck him that there may well come a time when this wouldn’t be the case. He wouldn’t be able to keep Kaon in his embrace because there would come a time when Kaon wouldn’t be there. Some cruel being would eventually come along and wrench the other away from him. A whimper rose from Vos’s throat and he buried his face in his mate’s chest. He wouldn’t allow it. No matter who it was, anyone who tried to take Kaon from him would be stopped. They would hurt. He would be sure of that. 

His hands trembled as they traveled the planes of Kaon’s frame. It grounded him. Kept his mind from wandering into darker places. Kaon was so often his tether and he doubted the mech even knew. There was no way that he could, really. Vos would never say it. It was better left unsaid. Saying these things made them real, and once they were real they could be taken away. 

Well, maybe it would be okay. Just to say it once. While Kaon slept. “Vossss lovesss Kaon.” 

“Mmm love you too.” Kaon mumbled, still very much asleep. 

Still, Vos trilled and his spark felt as though it might explode out of his chest from the sheer happiness from that reply. It didn’t matter if Kaon didn’t mean it. Vos could pretend. He could always remember those simple, slurred words. His optics dimmed and he sighed. Resting here until Kaon woke sounded like nothing short of heaven

Chapter Text

Magnus squirmed as the blindfold was secured in place. His hands were bound firmly behind his back, his knees shifted wide so that his exposed array was appropriately visible. He took a deep steadying vent. To say he was nervous about all of this was a massive understatement. This had been his idea but anxiety still welled up in him. 

Though he could not see, he could hear the mechs surrounding him. He imagined a couple of them specifically. He hoped Rodimus was there. Megatron too, though he doubted that. Perhaps asking Swerve to arrange this was not his best idea. For all he knew, the whole crew was there. That thought made him shudder. That would be something wouldn’t it? It would be so completely humiliating!

Oh but that was what sent that shudder down his spine. He wanted that so badly. To be at the center of their attention. To be filthy and wanton and bare before them all. It was so filthy and shameful and perfect. 

The voice he recognized hit his audials. Ten. Magnus bit his lip. The thought of the big, sweet mech being there was just so much dirtier than he had been ready for. 

He didn’t have time to think on it too long. There was a spatter of warm transfluid across his face. A moan, this time a lower voice, and another spatter. Magnus poked his tongue out to lap at some of the fluid on his cheek. He hummed happily as his valve clenched desperately around nothing. The resulted in more spatters across his frame as the mechs around him overloaded. 

Magnus felt filthy both inside and out. It was so perfect.

Chapter Text

“How long have you been here?” Trepan trilled, resting his hand on his palm. He had only just broken the water’s service. Of course he had been checking every now and then to see if Overlord was there yet. Though, he had gotten incredibly distracted by a number of treasures that he found. 

“A little while.” Overlord said. His voice rumbled low in his chest, the way he knew Trepan liked. He had made his way over to the edge of the lake and he’d reached out to caress the amphibious cheek before him. “I wanted to see you, pretty fish.” 

Trepan leaned into his touch for a moment before nipping at his palm. “I’m not a fish, you rude thing.” 

Overlord jerked his hand away with a quiet chuckle. “Alright, alright. Come, I’d like to try something with you. If you don’t mind coming out here.” 

Trepan climbed out and almost immediately found himself wrapped in Overlord’s thick arms. It was his favorite place to be. Overlord scooped him up, as though he weighed nothing at all, and carried him off to a nearby shady area. “Why?” 

“Don’t want you drying out.” He grinned, revealing pointed teeth. His exceedingly long tongue swiped over his lips. He looked hungry and that sent a shiver down Trepan’s spine. There was something carnal and near desperate in the demon’s eyes and he was excited to see what that look was about. 

Overlord lowered them both to the ground. “What’s all this about?” Trepan asked.

“Just missed you is all.” Overlord laid back and tugged Trepan up his chest. 

Trepan squeaked, blushing furiously when he realized that his pelvis was hovering over Overlord’s mouth. 

“Aw don’t be embarrassed.” Overlord crooned. His hand, again, cupped Trepan’s cheek. “Now please, dear, don’t make me wait any longer.” 

“W-What should I do?” He managed to force the words out past his own embarrassment. Sure, he knew what Overlord was after, but he wanted him to say it. 

A smirk was his first response. “Lower yourself onto my face, my love. I would like to taste you.” 

“How could I say no to a request like that?” He did as he was told and was rewarded. Overlord’s tongue slipped past his lips and into Trepan’s slit. The lake dweller arched and a choked moan left his throat. His hands shook as one of the grasped at one of the demon’s horns. When was the last time anyone had touched him like this? Ever? No. Never. Sure, they’d fucked before. That was different. That wasn’t long and wriggling and precise. The long, skilled tongue pressed at each and every one of the sensitive nerve bundles inside him. His hips squirmed and shifted, urging the other not to hold back. Overlord wasn’t the type to hold back, but Trepan had certainly noticed that he tended to be more gentle with him than he would any other. He loved that about Overlord but right now it wasn’t needed. 

He was almost lost in thought until Overlord brought him back to reality. He’d managed to find some deep, over sensitive cluster and Trepan cried out. His webbed toes curled and his spine curved back further than he’d ever thought possible. “D-don’t stop. Right there, love. Please.” 

Overlord did not disappoint. He never did. His huge hands wrapped around Trepan’s shapely thighs. More pleas, increasingly desperate left Trepan’s mouth. He wasn’t even sure what he was saying at this point. All he knew was he wanted more and more of the sensation. He cried out louder than before, gripping Overlord’s horn harder and tearing at the grass beside them. Trepan had never cum this hard before. He was shaking as he forced himself away from his lover’s mouth. 

“Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Of course I did.” He panted. “We will be doing that again.”

Chapter Text

“This isn’t your ship and this isn’t your quest! You’re not in charge here!” Rodimus snapped. It had been building for days… well, weeks more like. Ever since Megatron had set foot on his ship. Had been given some kind of say in his mission. 

Megatron didn’t even bother to look bothered. His expression was insultingly plain as he looked up from whatever he was working on. Rodimus didn’t care. He was always working at something. Probably to keep from actually having to do anything. “I never said that I was. If you have a problem with it then I suggest that you speak with Optimus.” 

“Oh yeah! Right! How about I go talk to the self righteous aft that decided that putting you on my ship was the right way to handle you.” He stalked across the room and snatched the datapad out of Megatron’s hands. “You shouldn’t be here. Stop trying to ingratiate yourself by doing paperwork.” 

Megatron glared at him, his mouth set in a frown. Good. Rodimus was getting to him. “Rodimus, think before you continue.” 

The young Prime jabbed a finger into Megatron’s chest. How dare he? How dare he assume that he hadn’t put any thought into this?! How dare he act as though this was all just some rash decision? “I have thought. Hell, I haven’t stopped thinking about this. You should be dead, Megatron, and everyone else would be happier for it. The only reason you’re not is because Optimus is too much of a coward to pull the trigger himself. How’d you talk him out of having you executed, huh? Did you suck his-”

Just like that, Megatron had risen to his full height. He’d grabbed Rodimus and pressed him against the nearest wall. “Is that really a sentence you want to finish?” 

Rodimus struggled, pushing against Megatron’s arm. “Let me go!” 

“Calm down and I’ll consider it.” Somehow, despite the furious glow in his optics only moments ago, Megatron’s voice was calm. Rodimus hated that calm, steady timbre. He was only doing it to infuriate him further. “What is this about, Rodimus, really?” 

“This is about you shouldn’t be here! I don’t have a single crew member who you haven’t hurt, or did you forget the war you started?! Oh! Oh right! How could I forget that you shot me in the chest?! Maybe that’s what this is about?” He continued to struggle. The fury in his spark only grew more intense. “It might be about how I’m somehow the one being punished for you being a genocidal monster!” 

Megatron’s grip on Rodimus’s collar tightened. “Shut your mouth, Rodimus.” 

“Make me.” 

There was a beat. A moment that felt like it could have lasted a lifetime. Their eyes locked with equal intense rage. And then Megatron’s mouth crashed against his. Rodimus pressed against him, kissing back with matched intensity. He nipped at the other mech’s lip hard enough to draw blood. “I still hate you.” 

“Shut up.” Megatron dove back in, all teeth and tongue. His hands curled around Rodimus’s thighs which he hiked up around his hips. Rodimus’s fingers dug into the grey plating of Megatron’s chest, leave long gouges behind. 

“Like I said, make me.” 

Chapter Text

Ratchet loved watching Drift. That was all there was to it. Drift was really beautiful when he was desperate. His cheeks were flushed his legs splayed wide. Ratchet sat between them so that he could watch the way Drift’s valve twitched desperately. His own spike sat heavy and pressurized in his palm. 

“Ratch… please….” Drift panted as Ratchet pulled the vibrator away from his node for perhaps the fifth time. He had lost count. He’d been distracted, to be fair. Who wouldn’t be with a beautiful mech in front of them exposed and keening? 

“What’s that?” He smirked. 

“Let me overload. Fuck me. Anything!” His hands, wrapped up in the sheets of their berth, flexed. 

Ratchet hummed. It seemed like a reasonable enough request. He feigned being deep in thought for a moment. Just long enough to let Drift’s charge lower. “I think I can do that.” He adjusted so that he was on top of Drift, leaning in to nip at he neck cables, pulling a satisfying shudder from the younger mech. “How about some manners first, though.” 

“Please fuck me Ratchet! Come on!” One hand had untangled itself from the sheets to paw at Ratchet’s hip. “I need you.” 

Damn. Those three words were all it ever really took, and Drift had to know that. “Of course. You’ve earned it after all.” 

With a slow roll of his hips he eased himself into Drift. It was like that valve was made for him. It was so wet and warm and perfect. He surged forward and Drift’s legs wrapped around him. They were locked together, their bodies embracing fully and perfectly. Ratchet managed to pull his face away from Drift’s neck. Those cables needed to be mouthed, but he couldn’t not see Drift’s face. The way it contorted with pleasure, completely unashamed, was all flawless to him. As he worked his hips, Ratchet reached for Drift’s hand to lace their digits together. 

Drift shuddered and gasped under him. His name left the other mech’s lips in gasps and between pleas for more. For Ratchet to never stop. He gave Drift’s hand a little squeeze. “I love you.” He whispered against his lips again and again. 

With a sudden cry and curved spine, Drift overloaded around Ratchet’s thick spike. Only a few pumps of his hips later, Ratchet overloaded too. The two of them panted and Ratchet pressed his forehead against Drift’s. “Heh thanks, pretty mech.” 

“Mmm of course. You’ll stay and cuddle right?” 

“Of course. Work doesn’t need me, I’m sure. Besides, they’ll call if its an emergency.” He settled beside Drift and tugged him close. 

“Perfect.” 

Yeah, Ratchet thought, you really are

Chapter Text

Pharma knelt before him. Panels open, aft toward him, face pointed at the berth. “Just get on with is Ambulon.” His tone was as cold as ever and-

No. No. This was wrong. This was Ambulon’s fantasy after all. Pharma didn’t have to be like that. It wasn’t real. 

Ambulon could convince himself that he could bring out the soft side of Delphi’s CMO. Yes, that would be much better. Pharma would want nothing more than him. Than his hands resting on his hips and their lips pressed sweetly together….. But Ambulon was getting ahead of himself. 

In his mind, he saw his paint as flawless and smooth and beautiful. Pharma’s perfect hands would traced down his chest and the jet would bite at his lip, as if holding something back. He’d tell Ambulon he had always found him beautiful. Ambulon would blush and tell him that he felt the same way. His own hand would cup Pharma’s face and he would pull him into a kiss. 

Pharma would be the one who pressed their hips together. Ambulon would smirk up at him and say something smooth about the jet being so eager. His love- no this wasn’t love and he knew better than to pretend it was even in a fantasy- his CMO would tug him into the berth. His hands would shake as he reached up to touch Ambulon’s face. He would be nervous. He would tell Ambulon how he hadn’t done this in so long, and Ambulon would lean againt his palm and say that it was alright. He would take it slow. He didn’t want to hurt him after all. 

Ambulon moaned aloud. His teeth sank into his knuckles because he really didn’t need anyone to hear him. 

He would ease his spike into Pharma’s valve. Pharma would cry out under him, his valve squeezing his spike so perfectly. Ambulon would bend to bite and lick at his neck cables mostly to pull more of those sounds from Pharma. He probably sounded as good as he looked. He’d reach for the jet’s wings to pinch the tips. Pharma would arch and gasp under him, he would moan Ambulon’s name. That thought alone almost undid him. Pharma’s legs would wrap around his hips. 

Pharma would overload first. His face would be flushed and he would look up at Ambulon with such soft optics it would make his spark ache. A gentle smile would grace Pharma’s lips, they would part and he would whisper a simple “I love you.” 

Ambulon overloaded with a grunt. Before the transfluid on his belly had even cooled, shame filled him. His tanks churned and he draped his arm over his optics. The Lost Light wasn’t a lonely ship. He could have had a living mech. But his paint was chipped, he was shy, and still hung up on someone who was dead. Someone he had let down. Someone who hated him. Even if Pharma was still alive and could hear his confession, he would surely reject him. No filthy Con would ever be allowed to touch him, nor should they. Nobody like him deserved someone like Pharma. Ambulon rolled onto his side and squeezed his pillow to his chest. He was disgusting and he knew it. The only thing that lessened the blow, was that nobody else ever needed to know. 

Chapter Text

Their fragging sessions were always like this. They were slow and careful. Quiet, where others would be unrestrained and loud. Tailgate didn’t mind. Not at all. Cyclonus’s massive spike filling and stretching his valve no matter the pace, was perfect. Tailgate panted, his visor beginning to fog up. His hands explored Cyclonus’s chest. 

“You’re perfect. You feel so good.” He breathed, his fingers sinking into a sensitive seam. “You’re so beautiful and careful with me. I love you, Cyclonus.” 

The larger mech’s hips surged forward. Affection was one of his weaknesses and Tailgate knew that. He knew that a couple of kind words would drive the stoic warrior wild. Tailgate squirmed under him, trying to take that perfect spike deeper even though it was already hitting the deepest parts of his valve. 

“Easy, little one.” Cyclonus’s voice was always so gravelly when he was aroused, sending heat directly to Tailgate’s array. “I don’t ah want to hurt you.” 

“You can’t hurt me, Cyc. Please. You can fuck me as hard as you want.” 

“This is as hard as I want.” He rolled his hips just a little harder than before. 

Tailgate yelped. “Yes! Please! Please Cyclonus! I love you! Please more!” 

Cyclonus buried his face in his partner’s neck. His sharp teeth nipped gently at the cables there. He was more gentle than he would have been with any other mech. Drawing blood from one he loved so dearly would be something he would never forgive himself for. Were he a stronger mech he would have told the other mech that he loved him too. Were he a stronger mech his hips wouldn’t be moving as fast as they were. But he wasn’t and he was rutting into Tailgate’s valve like his life depended on it. 

One of Tailgate’s hands wrapped around Cyclonus’s horn. His legs clamped tight around the other’s hips. Praise and wordless moans flowed from him with no pause. He loved him and Cyclonus needed to know it. He deserved to know it. He overloaded, loudly, his legs quaked and his back curved. Warm transfluids filled his valve moments later. Cyclonus had overloaded without a sound, as was his custom. 

After he eased himself from his lover’s tight channel, Cyclonus laid on his side and pulled Tailgate to his chest. “I love you too, Tailgate.” He rumbled and kissed the top of the little mech’s helm. Tailgate loved this part more than anything. He loved being pressed against Cyclonus and feeling like the safest mech alive. He was, after all. With a mech like Cyclonus protecting him, no harm would ever come to him.

Chapter Text

Elita lounged back in, what could only be described as, her throne. One leg draped casually over one of its arms. Her other leg curved over Optimus Prime’s shoulder. She gave a short tug at the collar she had looped around his throat. The Prime leaned forward, his heated gaze hazily locked onto hers. 

“Well,” She said, her voice husky, “What are you waiting for?” 

“Nothing. Are you going to open your panels, or are you going to make me just sit here?” His battle mask slid aside, as if that would be enough to tease her. Elita almost certainly wouldn’t require any convincing. He wouldn’t be here if she didn’t know exactly what she wanted. 

Her thumb came to press past his lips. He wrapped his tongue around it and sucked lightly. “Hm, I do like you down there. Beneath me has always been your place, Prime.” She purred. Elita withdrew her digit from his mouth before bending and tugging him close. Her mouth pressed almost violently against his. Optimus nearly forgot his place and surged forward. He settled down though and allowed her tongue to press into his mouth, tangling with his own. Caught up in the heated moment, he almost missed the quiet click of her modesty panels sliding open. Elita pulled away from him, nipping his lower lip roughly. 

Optimus swallowed, now very aware of the heat behind his panels. His spike strained to be free but he knew better than to open up now. His optics trailed down her frame. She was displayed beautifully for him. Her valve was as he remembered, silver with hot pink biolights. It looked pretty but plain, which her heavily modded spike more than made up for. “May I?” 

“As if you need to ask, Prime.” 

He was all too happy to lean in and press his tongue into her folds. Finally, he had gotten her to make some kind of sound. A shaking gasp was what greeted his audials. He could feel her arch and press against him. This was his favorite part of their interactions. He could do without all of her harshness, but the way she melted under his tongue was all too perfect. As he worked his tongue over her node he wished he could slip a finger into her. She would never allow that though. He was not worthy of penetrating her, and he knew that. 

“Ha- harder, Prime.” She moaned. 

As much as he wanted to pull away and summon up a snarky reply, Optimus settled for doing as she wished. She cried out and her hand braced on the back of his head. It held him in place as if he would ever pull away from her.

Chapter Text

Of all the things Smokescreen had expected, it certainly wasn’t Ratchet dropping himself into the seat beside him. He suddenly became incredibly self conscious. Smokescreen fidgeted a little in his seat. His optics kept darting over at the older mech, though he pleaded with them not to. He didn’t want to be caught looking where he probably shouldn’t. 

Ratchet groaned and settled back. “You haven’t been in for your check up yet.” He grumbled. 

Smokescreen’s face grew warm. Of course this was about him not getting his check ups taken care of. “I ah… no. No sir.” He cleared his throat, “Sorry.” 

The chuckle that came from the mech beside him surprised Smokescreen. Ratchet didn’t seem bothered. He seemed amused. Ratchet’s amusement wasn’t something Smokescreen had ever been on the receiving end of. Part of him wished it hadn’t taken this long, the other part was happy it had happened at all. Ratchet patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not going to chase you down. As long as you show up within the week.” 

Smokescreen’s eyes locked onto Ratchet’s hand. The weight of it was reassuring, but more than that, it was Ratchet that was touching him. Ratchet who had always seemed a thousand miles away was touching him. He was suddenly close. Not only close but within arms reach. Suddenly, he remembered that Ratchet had asked him something. “Oh! Uh sure. Yeah. I’ll come in next week.” 

“This week.” 

“Heh right that’s what I meant. Obviously.” He tried to force nonchalance into his voice.

For a few moments they were silent. Awkwardly so. Ratchet must have forgotten that his hand was still on Smokescreen’s shoulder. Smokescreen swallowed. If he was going to make some kind of move on the medic, now would be the time. Then again, wasn’t it enough that they were touching each other? No. No he wanted more and had wanted to for entirely too long. Before he could talk himself out of it, he reached up and wrapped his hand around Ratchet’s and pulled it to his mouth. He pressed his lips to the other mech’s knuckles. 

“Wh-” Ratchet was staring at him now, and Smokescreen felt his heart sink. 

“Uh. Nothing. Sorry. That was weird.” He let Ratchet’s hand go and stood quickly. “This week. Promise.” 

Chapter Text

It had taken days, nearly weeks in fact, for Magnus to talk himself into asking for this. Yes, he wanted it, and wasn’t all that concerned with the other two mechs saying no. They wouldn’t. They would do anything for him, but he did fear that this was perhaps asking too much. The act of asking, the phrasing, all of it, was what really made him nervous. There are so many ways to word things wrong. Ways that won’t hurt right away, but can linger at the edge of a mech’s mind. His face had gone red and he’d sputtered out his request, half expecting Megatron at least to balk at it. Instead, his hand was captured by the former warlord’s. 

“I am more than happy to indulge you, my love.” Megatron said simply as he pulled Magnus’s hand to his mouth to kiss it. “Ten, what do you say?” 

Magnus turned to the massive golden mech who was nodding eagerly. He was blushing almost as dark as Magnus was. “Ten.” 

Hour later, Magnus was caught between the two mechs he trusted above all others. Ten was positioned behind him, while Megatron was occupying his mouth. It was simultaneously not enough and too much. He felt nearly gluttonous from the way he devoured the attentions of his partners. 

He pressed back against Ten, desperate to get he mech’s massive spike deeper. Ten rumbled and dipped his fingers into Magnus’s sensitive hip seams. Magnus would have gasped had Megatron’s spike not been inside his mouth. His tongue pressed against the underside of that heavy spike which made Megatron grip his helm tightly. 

A few more bobs of his head later, and Megatron was pulling out of his mouth. Magnus flinched as hot transfluid spattered suddenly across his face. His lips were still parted as he looked up, wide eyed at Megatron. 

“Sorry.” Megatron looked embarrassed. His hand came to cup Magnus’s cheek, his thumb swiping through some of the fluid there. 

“Its alright.” He loved this. The feeling of being filthy, of having that control taken from him. Outside of his berthroom, the thought would appall him. But here? Here he was safe. He could be dirty, and disgusting, it surely wouldn’t change the way the other two saw him. Besides, the idea of them helping him clean up was just way too appealing. He glanced over his shoulder to where Ten’s hips had begun to move more erratically. “T-Ten, please…. please finish on my face.” 

Ten nodded and eased out of Magnus’s valve. Magnus shuffled so that he was facing Ten. He mouthed at the golden mech’s thighs for only a moment. Ten, stroking his spike, shifted away from Magnus so that he could angle properly. His transfluid spatter mixed with Megatron’s which had begun to cool. 

As Ten sat back, fans roaring, Magnus moved to lay on his back. His face was a mess, as was his plating, and berth. He thought briefly about cleaning it all up. His optics offlined though as Megatron began wiping his face clean. Ten curled up beside him, his hand resting on Magnus’s chest. 

“Thank you both, for doing this.” 

“Its no problem. We’d do anything for you, Magnus.” 

“Ten.” 

Chapter Text

“You’re cute when you’re needy.” Nightbeat cooed. His fingers delicately gripped Rung’s chin. 

Rung’s vents roared as they tried to cool his frame. Sure, he was needy but it had been so long since they’d started. Since Nightbeat had burst into his office and declared that he knew exactly how to help him relax. It had to be hours. Hours and hours since he’d been handcuffed and his panels opened. “Ah is that why you’re doing this? Because I’m cute?” 

“Its not the only reason!” Nightbeat huffed before he lowered his head to mouth at Rung’s valve again. His tongue just barely grazed his swollen node. 

Rung gasped at that slight touch and tried to buck into Nightbeat’s mouth. He wanted- no- he needed more! His mouth hung open as he panted. “Please. Nightbeat-” 

“Hm?” He again pulled away and Rung nearly screamed from the frustration of it. “I’m sorry. What were you asking for?” Nightbeat cocked his head almost innocently, but the smirk on his wet lips betrayed him. “You’ll have to speak up.” 

“L-let me overload! You-”

He quirked his brow. That was the look of a mech who may well say no if Rung worded this poorly.

“Please?” 

“Hm. Alright, but only because I like you so much.” Nightbeat lowered his head once again. This time his tongue was nearly laser focused on Rung’s node. The psychiatrist arched his back. Praises tumbled from his lips as his overload hit him. His optics went bright and his cheeks flushed darker than before. 

Nightbeat eased Rung down from his high before pulling away and kissing at his creme color thighs. Rung tried to catch his breath. “So… Feeling more relaxed?” 

“Y-yeah. I think I am.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

“You work too much.” It wasn’t demanding or upset, just a statement of fact. Rung’s voice had drifted to Ratchet, somehow penetrating the wall of concentration he’d put up while he worked. He had a way of doing that, and Ratchet wasn’t sure if he loved or hated it. 

“Hm?” He set his datapad aside casually and turned in his chair to face Rung. The slight mech stood in his office doorway with his arms crossed. 

Rung walked towards him with a sway in his hips. “You do.” He finally said once he was right in front of Ratchet. “Why don’t you take a break.” 

“I’d love to, but-” 

Rung didn’t let him finish. His arms had already draped over his shoulders, bringing their faces closer. “No time for me?” 

“Of course I have time for you its just,” He sighed, “There’s so much to do and nobody else can do it. I mean, First Aid could, but he’s so young and has so much else he could be doing. I don’t want him to throw his life away on paperwork. You’ll have me all to yourself later.” 

Rung pouted, but only for a moment. “Alright, love. I’ll be back to walk you home in an hour or so, okay?” 

“An hour? Yeah… Yeah I can be done by then.” He smiled and pressed a kiss to Rung’s lips. With time with Rung as his motivation, Ratchet could do nearly anything.

Chapter Text

Cosmos whined as Soundwave pulled away from his valve. The spymaster was so skilled with his tongue that only a fool wouldn’t mourn its loss. Beneath his mask, his cheeks were flushed dark. Soundwave’s ministrations were always enough to do this to him. Not to mention how beautiful Soundwave was with his battle mask and visor off! His jawline, full lips, and the shimmer in his optics were enough to make any mech forget their name. 

“Soundwave,” He pouted, “Why’d you stop?” 

“You were about to overload.” Soundwave stated simply, barely covering up the sound of his opening spike panel. “I didn’t want this to be over quite yet.” 

“O-oh.” Cosmos felt foolish. How could he have such an idiot? Such a wonderful mech taking such good care of him and he was getting needy! Ugh. That was one way to make sure this never happened again.

“I know that look.” Soundwave lowered himself so that he could kiss at Cosmos’s neck. “You’re worried you’ve ruined the moment, right?” 

“I am.” He squeaked. 

“You haven’t.” Soundwave rolled his hips, hilting his spike in Cosmos in one fluid motion. The smaller mech gasped and clung desperately to him. “You’ve not ruined anything. I promise.” 

Cosmos could have melted. Soundwave moved so methodically. So precisely hitting every single node that he knew made Cosmos moan and squirm. 

“Such a good Autobot.” Cosmos shuddered as Soundwave whispered those words into his audial, lips grazing him. “So lovely. So reactive.” 

“S-Soundwave!” A particularly hard thrust of the blue mech’s hips had Cosmos’s back arching off the berth. 

“Your voice- ah- you sound so good. So fragging good.” He bit into Cosmos’s neck.

That was all it took. Cosmos overloaded, his valve clenching around Soundwave’s spike, trying to milk the transfluid from him. Moments later he got what he wanted. Soundwave had fucked into his over sensitive valve only a moment longer before spilling into him. 

Soundwave panted as he pulled out of Cosmos’s valve. He laid beside his Autobot and pulled him close to his chest. “Love?” 

“What’s up?” 

“Please stop thinking you’re ruining things by speaking up. I would rather pause for a moment than have you be unhappy with what we’re doing.” 

Cosmos sighed, relief evident in every inch of his body. It would take some time, but this was a change he was more than willing to work towards for Soundwave. “I can do that for you.” 

“Thank you.”

Chapter Text

“Come on, Jackie. Don’t be shy.” Starscream purred as he lounged in the chair he’d pulled up to the foot of his berth. From here he couldn’t touch his mate, but he was willing to sacrifice that for the view. 

“I’m not shy! This is just… weird.” 

“What’s weird about wanting to watch you get off, my dear?” 

“I don’t know.” Wheeljack huffed and propped himself up on his elbows to look at Starscream. “Why would you want to, you know, watch me?” 

“Because you’re beautiful and I don’t get to appreciate that as much when your spike is in me.” 

For another moment Wheeljack stared at him. He was admittedly surprised by Starscream’s request. The seeker had never been known to be okay with watching something he wanted to touch. Then again, Starscream was less demanding than most mechs seemed to think, so there was nothing wrong with giving him this. “Fine. Ah… I should just get started then, huh?” 

“No need to rush, love.” 

Love. He called him that so often these days. They were comfortable with each other, far more than either of them had ever been around other mechs. Besides, Starscream had assured him that it was safe for them to use petnames sometimes. As the ruler of Cybertron he was essentially untouchable, after all. 

Wheeljack settled back against the plush pillows and offlined his optics. Starscream had positioned them so that he was still at an angle and his face was still very visible. He was tempted to close his battle mask, but knew Starscream would prefer to see his face. He sighed and wrapped his hand around his already pressurized spike. A few slow strokes later and his breaths were already coming short pants. He wasn’t usually lacking in stamina. Maybe Starscream watching got him more aroused than he had thought. 

“Look at you.” Came that raspy voice. “You’re so beautiful like this. When you’re self servicing… What are you thinking about, Jackie?” 

“You.” 

“Details, love.” There was an unspoken please there. Wheeljack was sure of it.

“Y-you on top of me. Riding my spike. Your wings all twitchy when my spike hits the all the right nnnng nodes.” He bit his scarred lips. “I like to imagine you forcing me to my knees so I can fuck you with my tongue while you’re on your throne.” 

“That’s good, love. That can be arranged.” His voice was strained. Wheeljack was sure he knew what that meant. His cracked one optic open to see Starscream watching him intently, three fingers deep in his valve. He was so beautiful when he was debauched like this. 

His optics lingered on Starscream’s stretched and soaking wet valve a moment too long. He overloaded. Transfluid spattered over his chest and hand. Both optics opened so he could watch Starscream. The seeker’s mouth hung open, his cheeks flushed. His wings hitched high. 

“Hah- Jackie y-” Whatever he was about to say was cut off by a shuddering moan as he came thanks to the efforts of his own fingers. 

“Was that everything you wanted?” Wheeljack breathed as Starscream clambered into the berth beside him. 

“It was.” 

“Don’t you want to get cleaned up?” 

“In a minute. Let me just lay here with you, okay?” 

“Okay.” Wheeljack kissed his forehead.

Chapter Text

Elita huffed as she glared at her datapad. Contacting Optimus was a mistake, yes. But he was close and she was desperate. Every time her heat cycle came around she tried and failed to handle it on her own. She always ended up calling someone to assist, but they often left her wanting. 

Optimus was on time, as always. There was that sympathetic look in his eye that he always had whenever she summoned him. Under any other circumstance she would scold him. Tell him if here was here out of pity he could go. But she needed him and it wasn’t like he was a bad option. He was handsome and always so precise with his fingers and mouth. Which she appreciated. 

She lounged back on her berth and allowed her thighs to fall open. Her valve was as wet as it was visible. Optimus’s own cooling fans clicked on immediately. That did make her feel less embarrassed about her own fans. Then again, it was Optimus. He probably didn’t notice. 

“Come on then, big mech.” She purred. 

Optimus wasted no time in making his way to her berth and nestling between her legs. She shifted in an attempt to grind her soaking hyper sensitive valve against him. His battle mask slid aside and he captured her mouth in a heated kiss. Her arms curled around him as she slid her tongue against his. 

The rumble of Optimus’s muffled moans rattled against her chest as his hands wandered her frame. One wrapped around her thigh, which he hitched up a little higher. His spike had pressurized and emerged from his paneling without either one of them noticing. Elita was already wet and far too aroused. The foreplay was appreciated but not necessary. She bit at Optimus’s neck. 

“Please.” She whispered, her voice husky with need. “Optimus I can’t wait any more.” 

He needed no further urging. Optimus surged forward and seated his spike fully inside her with a single motion. Her lips parted in a wordless moan. Pink fingertips dug ditches in red back plating as Optimus set a steady pace. 

One overload chased another and another. Her heat finally had started to ebb when Optimus finally overloaded himself, spilling transfluid into her. Elita sighed and laid back, finally releasing him. 

“Do you want me to stay?” He panted. 

For a moment she thought. He could stay. But what would he read into that? What would she? Regardless it would be nice in case this particular heat reared its head again. “I would appreciate that, love.” 

She pressed a gentler kiss to his lips. They could clean up later. But for now, she needed rest

Chapter Text

Shatter pounded into the smaller femme below her. Some little waif of a thing that worked on ship maintenance. She whined and pressed back against the duochanger, whimpering and desperate for more. Shatter was more than happy to oblige her. 

“You like that don’t you? Filthy little thing.” She growled in the other femme’s audial. “Tell me how much you like it.” 

Her valve clenched around Shatter’s thick spike. “Hah! I’d tell you to shut up but I like the way you sound.” Her voice was breathy where Shatter’s was husky and rough. 

Shatter was taken somewhat aback by that. Her hips stilled and she cocked her head. “What?” 

The other femme grabbed her collar and tugged her down. “I didn’t say stop.” 

“I know that. Obviously, I’d like to keep fucking you.” 

She shuddered and Shatter smirked. Oh, she could keep talking. She gave another hard thrust. 

“Oh? Heh you like that? Of course you do. Who wouldn’t?” 

Her mate gasped and clung to her desperately, her back arched as her valve clenched again around the spike splitting her apart. “Yes! I do! I love it. Please-” 

She cut herself off with a moan. Her legs wrapped tight around Shatter’s hips. Her words failed her as she overloaded around the thick spike seated deep inside her. She was so breathless and beautiful as Shatter finished. Oh yeah. Shatter could get used to this

Chapter Text

First Aid was desperate. Needy. He’d gone entirely too long without feeling Ambulon’s plating under his fingers and there was nothing he wanted more. All day while the worked, Ambulon was casting flirty glances his way. Like First Aid wasn’t going to notice. Like he wasn’t going to be desperate for the feeling of plowing Ambulon into his berth. 

When the day finally ended and Pharma had vanished to do who cared what, First Aid sought out the ward manager. It didn’t take long to track him down. He was in his berth, lounging. His long, thick legs stretched out in front of him. His hands held a datapad as if it were the most delicate thing in the world. As if he would never dare hold anything roughly. Aid knew better. He had seen the way Ambulon’s hands curled desperately into the sheets, felt those fingers dig into his plating. 

“Oh!” Ambulon finally noticed him, yellow optics gleaming pleasantly. “Hi, Aid. Are you alright?” 

First Aid hadn’t realized that his mask had slid aside, revealing his flushed cheeks. “I’m fine. Ah, are you busy?” 

He set he datapad aside. “Nope.” 

First Aid fully entered the room and shut the door behind him. He approached the berth and climbed on top of the other mech. 

“Woah.” Ambulon blushed as his fans clicked on. “You’re ah eager.” 

“Of course I am.” He kissed up Ambulon’s ample chest. “I’ve been thinking about this all day.” 

“Really?” 

“I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me.” First Aid reached his throat and kissed the cables there, pulling a moan from Ambulon. “I’ve missed this.” 

“Do we have time?” Ambulon gasped as Aid’s teeth nipped at him. His hand came to rest on his mate’s lower back. 

“Yeah. Pharma just left. Probably out at the miners’ bar. We won’t be seeing him for a while.” 

Ambulon’s panels slid aside at that. Knowing that they ran no risk of being caught let him enjoy himself more. First Aid’s fingers entered his pliant valve within seconds. A high moan started to leave Ambulon’s throat for only a second before the sound was swallowed by First Aid’s mouth pressing hungrily against his. Their tongues tangled and slid against each other, leaving them both panting. First Aid opened his panels and let his spike pressurize. 

“How do you want me?” 

“As you are. I like seeing your face.” First Aid purred. Another desperate, heated kiss and a roll of his hips and he was fully seated in his mate’s valve. Ambulon’s fingertips dug into his back, denting and scraping the paint. First Aid fucked him like his life depended on it. Like they weren’t trapped on a frozen planet. Like there was nothing but this room, and this clinic. Like they were the only two mechs. Praise fell from his lips, soft and gentle. Ambulon’s body pressed against his own. They fit like they were made for each other. His lips parted, revealing his overly sharp canines, a remnant of his Decepticon days. Seeing those fangs did things to First Aid that he would never mention outside of this room. It was a side of Ambulon most never got to see. It was all for him. 

“Aid I-” His back arched gracefully and his mouth hung open. Ambulon spasmed around him, pulling his spike deeper. He shifted to press their mouths together again. 

First Aid gave a couple more rough, deep thrusts before overloading deep inside Ambulon. He eased out of the other mech and flopped beside him. “You alright?” 

Ambulon, now looking throughly debauched and flushed, turned to Aid with a smile curving his lips. “More than. Heh I should check you out while we’re working more often.” 

“Oh hush. Lets get cleaned up.” 

Chapter Text

Pharma knew it was disgusting and wrong. Thinking about a mech like Tarn while he self serviced. A mech who came to him only when he needed something. A mech who regaled him with tales of his latest hunts, always in graphic detail. But the way he sounded when he told these stories…. 

A shiver ran down his spine. 

The false spike firmly set within his wet and quivering valve buzzed relentlessly. It felt almost too big. The stretch burned pleasantly as he wondered if this is how Tarn’s spike would have felt. No, probably not. Tarn was probably bigger. He spread his thighs wider to accommodate the mech that wasn’t there. One day, maybe he would be. 

“Please,” He moaned to nobody. “Tarn, please, I’m so close.” 

Were he capable of shame, he would be ashamed of how he longed for the Decepticon. Tarn was beautiful in a brutish type of way. His massive hands always clenched when Pharma worked on him. He wanted those hands to grip his hips as Tarn’s spike rammed into him and hit roughly against his ceiling node the way his toy did now. His back arched. Tarn wouldn’t have allowed that, surely he would have held the medic down, fucking him on his own terms. 

Would Tarn touch his wings, he wondered. If he weren’t occupied with panting, he would have chuckled. It didn’t matter. This was his own fantasy and would almost certainly never come to pass. Tarn would do whatever he wanted him to. Those thick, heavy, but so careful fingers would trace the edges of his wings. They’d pinch the tips roughly and Pharma would beg him for more. He’d call him his Autobot and Pharma would feel his tanks churn with arousal and shame in equal measure.

“Tarn!” He gasped. His wings quivered as his valve clenched hungry around the false spike. Lubricant flowed freely from his valve as he eased the toy out. His face was flushed and he prayed nobody had heard him. He did share a wall with Ambulon, after all.

Chapter Text

Oh Cyclonus had waited for this. Ever since Tailgate had decided that Swerve’s was the best place for a handjob. He had very carefully planned how he would exact his revenge on the mini. 

He lifted Tailgate with ease the very second that the warm solvent hit his plating. A split second later, Tailgate was pinned against the wall. 

“Ah! Cyclonus! That’s cold!” He pouted. His back arched in an attempt to escape the cold of the tile pressing against his back. 

Cyclonus tsked, still holding firm to his conjunx. “Now now, love.There’s no getting away from your just punishment.” He grinned. Cyclonus leaned in and nipped at Tailgate’s neck cables. His sharp teeth drew tiny pinpricks of energon from the smaller mech. His mate squirmed in his hold, but he could hear his fans click on. He knew full well that Tailgate loved it when he was more dominant. The fear of hurting the smaller mech had at one point held him back, but his conjunx proved time and time again that he could handle anything. 

He lowered himself to his knees, positioning Tailgate’s thick thighs over his shoulders. “Open for me.” He rumbled. 

Tailgate complied. His valve panels slid open and his hand gripped around one of Cyclonus’s horns. He loved the way the smaller mech’s hand fit around that particular piece of kibble. 

Cyclonus bit at Tailgate’s thigh, leaving a vivid mark behind. Anyone who looked close enough would be able to see it. Who it came from would be unmistakable. He was more than a little satisfied by that. Wasting no more time, he shifted and extended his long tongue to run between the ample lips of Tailgate’s already leaking valve. The smaller mech gasped and clenched his thighs tighter around Cyclonus’s helm. 

With that bit of nonverbal encouragement, Cyclonus wrapped his lips around his arctic blue node and suckled at it. Tailgate’s heels pressed into Cyclonus’s plating as he cried out. Cyclonus didn’t relent. His tongue flicked viciously against the node, teasing and pulling his mate ever closer to overload. Tailgate’s back arched and his other hand scrabbled at the wall for something to brace himself against. 

It didn’t take long until he was moaning loudly and begging. “Please. I’m so close! Cyclonus!” 

And like that Cyclonus pulled away and set his mate back on the ground. “Close your panels.” 

“Wh- what? Cyclonus!”

“This is your punishment for Swerve’s. Close them.” 

“But-”

“Its not much of a punishment if I give you what you want. Now, close them please.”