Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

You wore a black dress that night. It was long and the fabric flowed over your body like ink. It had a deep neckline with a front closure that consisted of several small buttons. They ran from the valley of your decolletage to just above your knees. The remaining length was left open, in an enticing slit that allowed for glimpses of your ivory skin—from your delicate ankles up to your shapely thighs. The soft material billowed out as you walked with a sway of your hips and draped over your knees when you crossed your legs as you sat. The smooth expanse of your fair skin begged to be touched—or perhaps that was him projecting.

Megatron had kept you in his sights all evening, craving you from afar as you flitted about the room. He wanted to slice down the fastenings of your dress with his claws to reveal the black lace he was sure you wore under it. He couldn’t help but to muse as you mingled, thinking up ways he could covertly confirm his hypothesis.

He could engage his mass-displacement to sit beside you. He would slip his servo under the table while no one was watching—his digit rubbing soft circles on the lace covering your node. Or perhaps he could feign a need for a classified discussion. He could set you atop his pauldron while he stood at full size, with the secret being what was occurring behind the servo that shielded you from view…your legs, spread wide, allowing him a glimpse of that black lace as he teased your cunt with the tip of his digit. Would your darkened optics and the flush of your skin give away his secret ministrations?

Perhaps it was best to pull you away from the crowd. He would back you up against a wall—holding your hands above your head with one servo, while the other snaked its way down your soft frame and under your dress. He’d reach around your hips, slipping his servo under the lace that covers your aft, to get to your tight heat from behind. Primus, his spike was pressurizing as his processor wandered through the many ways he could take you. Megatron ex-vented.

Your soft, human frame has become his obsession as of late—though it was far from all he required of you. He wanted every part of you. Your body. Your mind. Your smile. Your every laugh and all of your words. He wanted every facet of you for himself. He is a selfish mech and has no shame in the admission—still, he is not your keeper. Your past saw you hidden away from the world. Those who claimed to love you kept you small--but not anymore. Not with him.

Megatron wanted the universe to know that the effervescent entity that you are--in all your benevolence and cunning, had chosen him. He couldn’t deny your shine to others--not when you emanated light, in every sense of the word, without effort. It was in the beam of your smile that held a blush on your cheeks. It was in the way you laughed with your whole being, throwing your head back with abandon. It was how a scrunch of your estril and a wide grin can disarm even the most cantankerous of company. Or how a gentle word from your genuine care can allay another's alarm. And it was in the small glances you aimed at him, or how you bit your bottom derma with a knowing smile--one you had reserved just for him.

Despite the urge to touch you, to take you, and to keep you to himself--Megatron's self-restraint proved to be a worthy adversary to his desire, if only for a moment. By the time he had you alone, his composure was nearing its limit. You sat perched on his pauldron, seemingly oblivious to his struggle, as he walked towards the hab. You spoke of your conversations you had with others, though Megatron cannot say he heard the half of it--not when he could smell your honey as you casually crossed your legs without a care. His olfactory sensors are fine tuned to the tantalizingly sweet desire of your cunt. He suppressed a growl. He wanted to taste you--and he could not wait.

Luck had found you both in an empty hall and Megatron wasted no time. With practiced care, he engaged his mass-displacement, while setting you down to stand before him. Without a word, he walked you back against the wall. He hooked a digit under your jaw, bringing you in for a kiss he made deeper with the tilt of his helm. His glossa danced with your tongue as his servo travelled down your frame, making good on his earlier thoughts. He slipped it through the slit of your dress--proving himself right when his digits touched soft lace. Now he only needed to confirm the color. He circled your node through the soft fabric and let out a hungry growl when he slipped his digit lower, finding your dew had already collected on the gusset of your panties. Primus, what a word—though he must admit, he did appreciate when you said it. Your lips hovered over his dermas when you spoke next—your lust driven breaths ghosting his faceplate, drawing him impossibly closer.

“Baby, my panties are nearly soaked…you’re such a naughty mech." You paused to throw your head back with a soft moan when Megatron slipped the delicate fabric aside to slide his digit on your folds, spreading your want up and around your little node. You let out a darkened hum of satisfaction. "You're gonna ruin these, aren't you?" Megatron let out a low, gravelly chuckle with your words.

"Am I naughty, my Spark? I simply find you irresistible--your lust has made me a willing devotee. I cannot help but want for a taste." He pushed a digit into your cunt--so warm, so tight--his spike pressurized fully, in an instant. He narrowed his optics at you with a hungry snarl. "Now."

You bit your bottom lip with a devious smile and unbelieving eyes.

"Here?!?! We're literally walking to the hab---" You nearly yelped as Megatron swiftly removed his digit and dropped to his knees before you, pushing the fabric of your dress up so that he could drape one of your legs over his pauldron. He looked at you with a perked optical ridge.

"You protest…yet make no move to stop me, Little Warrior." He rubbed his faceplate against the soft black fabric covering your cunt, and in-vented. Your sweet scent finds him ravenous--old coding calls for rutting your little heat, to have you dripping his transfluid down your legs by the time he's done with you.

His impatience got the best of him as he took his claw and sliced at the lace fabric, revealing your sacred space. He wasted no time in tasting you. His glossa circled your clit before dipping lower to tease your tight entrance. You tossed your head back as you grabbed his helm, grinding your cunt against him--he thoroughly enjoys when you take your pleasure. He gave another hungry growl to make sure you were aware of that fact. When you looked down at him, he pushed his glossa in further, keeping optical contact. The taste of you was intoxicating. Your eyes rolled back into a close and you lost your single-legged footing. He easily supported your tiny frame as you swooned, while he lapped at your cunt's delectable dew. Primus, you were so wet. Still, it wasn't enough.

He quickly rose to a stand--bringing you up with him as he draped your other leg over his pauldron. Your sweet cunt was nearly straddled against his faceplate. Your back was pressed against the wall while his large servos wrapped around your thighs and under your aft, supporting your weight while keeping your legs spread for him. The position allowed for a deeper taste of you. Your cunt fluttered around his glossa as he curved it with expert precision. Hushed moans and words of praise fell from your lips as he devoured you. Still, he wanted more.

Another swift motion brought him back to full size--with you deposited in his cupped servos. He turned to walk towards the hab to get the more that he required. You were about to adjust your dress for modesty when he stopped you. With a perked optical ridge, he sliced at the buttons down your dress, revealing your soft frame. You feigned annoyance with a smile and a bite of your bottom derma.

Megatron narrowed his optics at you with a deep ex-vent as he silently continued his brisk pace towards the hab. He brought you up closer to his faceplates, spreading your legs open with his thumbs. Your cunt glistened with his previous efforts--it was a beautiful sight to behold. Your large optics went wide with his gesture but soon gave way to half-lidded and darkened as his glossa invaded your folds like a mech starved. Your back bowed against his servos as he greedily drank of your sweet desire, with more hushed moans falling from your lips.

He would have none of that.

"My dear, you wound me with your attempt at modesty. Your delicious whimpers are mine--I will not have you stifle them. Let me hear you. Let the entire ship hear you. Let the Primes long dead and that prude that still lives, hear you. Let them know who it is that brings you to ecstasy."

With those words, his dexterous glossa worked at your node with determination. Tis true that neither of you are opposed to rough interfacing--he's pounded into your cunt enough times to lose track and you love a hard digit-frag with a punishing pace. Even so, he will not risk hurting your perfect heat with impatience. Your intense pleasure was required for your narrow channel to accommodate the stretch needed to receive his Primus-blessed endowment and Megatron wanted you dripping before he sets you on the berth. You writhed in his servos with unincumbered moans, like the good girl you are while he opened your little hole with multiple overloads. The sounds of your seduction stroked his pride just as much as they aroused the pressure in his spike.

As he neared the hab, he removed his glossa from your folds to look at you. You were sprawled out in his servos. The bliss you had found was apparent--your pupils were blown wide with the pleasure he had wrought you. The black ink of your torn dress now puddled around you, framing your body like a work of art in his cupped palms.

You were nearly naked save for the black lace that hugged your breasts and the ruffle of your socks that peaked above the collar of your boots. Telling is the fact that even your pedewear can conjure up carnal memories in his processor. He has seen those boots on his chassis while your body was bracketed against him as he impaled your divine cunt on his spike. He has felt the weight of them as your legs rested on his pauldrons while he fucked you with his glossa. And he has also removed said boots from your delicate pedes before fragging you into the berth with a breeding urgency--just as he plans to do when you reach the hab.

A glint of gold drew his optics to your chest. You were heaving with deep in-vents as you tried to catch the breath lost with your overloads. There, laying atop your flushed skin was the diminutive gold Decepticon insignia lavalier he had gifted you. It sat delicately around your neck falling just below your collar bone--a golden glimmer against your ivory skin. The sight of it on you was an aphrodisiac that sent a charge directly through his spike. It was a primal possessiveness that indulged the old coding in him. His wanton desire to claim and breed you was taking over his processor. It was a feat that he reached the hab at all.

Megatron's narrowed optics darkened with want as he carried you passed the hab's threshold towards the berth. He looked down at you with a perked optical ridge as he spoke.

"I hope you saved some strength, Little Warrior--for I am far from finished with you."

Chapter Text

Megatron had you caged against the wall. He hooked a digit under your jaw, drawing your wide eyes up to his optics—the dimmed lighting darkened them further. They reflected the crimson light of his optics, as a placid lake mirrors the moon. Your pupils were blown wide--an easy tell of your arousal, like the pheromones that wafted off your soft frame.

He held your gaze as he ran his thumb along the pout of your bottom derma, before gently pressing down—intently watching how your plump flesh gave under his hard metals. You are so…soft. Touching your frame strikes him with an awe that does not seem to cease. Every part of you is so familiar and yet so alien. You are unlike anything he has ever experienced in his long life. If his hard frame was forged for labor and battle, your body in all its delicate beauty, was made to be worshipped.

You kept your wide optics on his--they feigned innocence, though he knew you were feeling anything but. Perking your brow, you brought your small hands up to his servo and guided his thumb forward, into your warm mouth. You pushed until his digit was hilted, before wrapping your lips around it—adding gentle suction. Your talented organic glossa joined in to massage his thumb as your small hands guided his motions into shallow thrusts. Primus, you certainly knew how to provoke his spike into instant pressurization--his plates strained against his length.

You teased him until his jaw clenched and his lines were taut, before removing his digit from your mouth. You held his servo as you gently kissed each of his digits. He watched in silence, as you singled out his pointer and middle digits, kissing the pair once more. While maintaining optical contact, you guided those lucky digits passed the threshold of your soft lips and into your mouth. There was a satisfied look in your wide optics as you perked a brow at him—as if to signal to begin. Megatron let out a low, gravelly growl as he granted your request, slowly pumping his digits in your mouth.

He continued to follow your lead in silence. Nothing truly compares to the heat and vice-like grip of your cunt…though your warm human intake, dexterous glossa and the tight channel of your throat comes close. Megatron was enthralled by the sight of your dermas wrapped around his thick digits. His shallow thrusts soon grew in depth and urgency as the sight of you evoked the feeling of the first-place prize that is your delicious cunt. It was most obscene.

You hooked a leg around him, drawing his frame closer to you. He was sure you could feel the heat radiating from his panels. Another perked brow from you confirmed it. You brought one of your hands to his panels, ghosting the strained surface with a light touch. His digits did not cease their movements, just as your optical contact never left his own. The ghost of your touch, manifested itself into a light tap—it was a signal for him to retract his panels and he did, revealing his fully pressurized spike. You let out a ravenous moan, muffled by the thrusts of his digits as you took hold of his length. It was his turn to raise a questioning optical ridge at you as you failed in your attempt to wrap your petite hand around the girth of his endowment. He let out a darkened hum with your efforts.

“My Spark…I’m afraid that is a two—” his sentence was cut off with a startled groan as your other hand joined the first, stroking him with a tight grip. You worked his spike beginning with a languid pace before increasing the intensity to match the shallow thrusts of his digits in your mouth. The sight of his digits fucking your mouth and the feel of your hands stroking his length affected him twofold, drawing him to the precipice with heated in-vents. Megatron brought his faceplates closer to your ear. “Yes, that’s it…just like that, my Little Warrior.” His whispered praise earned himself a muffled, desperate moan that had him rocking his hips into your touch.

You maintained your movements until he could take no more as his fans kicked up with a roar. He removed his digits from your warm mouth, staving off his overload with a frustrated growl that reverberated from deep within his chassis. He narrowed his optics at you, before taking hold of your delicate neck, keeping his thumb on your pulse. His ex-vents blew at the tresses that framed your face, while a lust-driven blush colored your cheeks.

“Your Little Warrior lives to serve, Lord Megatron.” Your submissive words were spoken with a satisfied smirk. Megatron tightened his grip on your neck, correcting your behavior. The dominant gesture had you in-vent with a hiss as your pulse quickened. He perked an optical ridge at you with a dark, seductive chuckle as he righted his panels and disengaged his mass-displacement. You yelped with a laugh as he quickly deposited your tiny frame on his pauldron. He suppressed a hungry groan with the scent of your dew so close to his sensors as he began to walk towards the hab from the very public hall you nearly had him overload in.

“We shall see, Little Warrior—for I intend to test the veracity of your words with a most thorough examination.”

Chapter Text

Megatron cannot say he heard half of Starscream’s briefing regarding the mine they were currently inspecting. That in and of itself was nothing new, though the reason for his distraction was. He had a surprise for you later, but it was your soft little frame that was drawing his attention.

You sat on his pauldron, giving your undivided attention to his second’s long-winded briefing. Innocently and without intent, you crossed and uncrossed your legs periodically. You wore a dress that day to combat the hot weather at the mine’s location and the thin fabric was a poor excuse of a barrier, he could feel your heat against his plating with your every move. As if that was not enough, the fragrance of your being drew him in like a magnet. Your sweet perfume. The flowery mixture in your shampoo. And you…it was as if your pheromones were tailored for his sensors. It called to his old coding like a siren’s song.

After what felt like cycles, Starscream’s report was complete and a ground bridge was activated for the party’s return to the ship. Megatron stopped short of entering and turned to the seeker.

“We are taking a scenic route back. Begin the necessary preparations in my absence.” Both you and his second looked surprised though only one of you answered.

“Ah—y-yes, Lord Megatron. As you command.” Starscream could not hide the sour look on his faceplates while you beamed with surprise.

“The scenic route?” You narrowed your wide optics at him with a sly smile, knowing him too well. “You’re up to something.” Megatron responded with a devious laugh before perking an optical ridge at you.

“My dear, I am always up to something.”

***

You were surprised when he announced his plan to take a scenic route, but you were absolutely giddy when he transformed outside of the mine, revealing his new spikepit. He styled his interior for your riding pleasure and your excitement was most apparent. You licked your dermas with a ravenous moan when you saw his mass-displaced spike, pressurized and weeping for you, in the center of his cabin. He let out a gravelly guffaw as you stood there, flabbergasted and unmoving.

“Care for a ride, my Spark?” His words broke you free from the trance that his endowment had put you under. You shook your head, freeing yourself from the lingering hold of your spiked stare, before biting your bottom derma. With a wide smile and an ex-vent of determination, you eyed his spike as you climbed in.

“Oh, I do…I really, really do.” Once you were inside him, you looked around with a blush on your visage. Without a word, you knelt down before sitting back on your heels, with his spike nestled between your shapely thighs. Megatron hummed his approval from all around you.

“Thy will be done, my Light.” With those words, he was off—making sure to take care of his speed as to not interrupt the sight of you preparing yourself for him.

You hitched up your dress as you began to grind your clothed cunt against his spike. He decided it was the perfect time to reveal another alteration. You nearly jumped when you felt the vibrations emanating from his length. He patterned them to mimic the frag toy you use on your node. You recovered quickly with another excited smile as you rolled your hips along his length. Megatron couldn’t help the stifled moan that escaped him with the feel of your warmth and the firm grip of your thighs. You ran your glossa over your plump lips as you moved, before unbuttoning your dress, slowly…too slowly.

“My dear, allow me to be of assistance.” He spoke from all around you as he quickly completed your task, retracting the blade before you even registered what had happened. You furrowed your brows with a pout.

“Hey! This is new!” You scrunched your estril at him. “You could have just said to hurry.”

“I did not wish to be rude.” His words earned him a warm laugh and full denta smile from you.

“You’re so silly.” Your smile darkened as you parted the fabric of your dress.

“My Light, I’ve been called many things…silly is not a title amongst them.” He growled out a groan as you slipped the garment off your shoulders, revealing red lace, while perfecting his view.

“Oh yeah?” You rolled your hips, gliding your lace-covered cunt against him. “Well…I’m happy to be…your...first.” You punctuated your last words with grinding gyrations.

“As am I, my Spark. Though you have been my first in more than one instance.” He hummed with a darkened rumble that seemed to vibrate through you. “It would seem this scenic route will add to that list.” He paused for dramatic effect. “What do you humans call it?” Your optics widened as you awaited his words. “Ah, yes…the mile high club.” Your brows joined your optics in surprise as you giggled.

“Baby…we’ve fucked on a space ship…in space.” You leaned back, removing yourself from him. He had no time to mourn the loss of contact as he watched you remove your panties. “But I wouldn’t mind joining anyway.”

You were nearly naked, save for the bra that hugged your mounds and the boots that adorned your pedes. You perked a brow at him as you spread your legs wide, presenting your delectable heat like a gift. Primus. You certainly made a difficult task of maintaining his flight skills when you began to tease his gift with your dainty digits. His fans kicked up at the sight of you, lazily circling your clit with a half-lidded smile. Megatron wanted to feel you against him as you opened yourself up and you obliged his unspoken whim.

You bit your bottom derma and returned to your position on your knees to grind your now naked cunt on him. Your dewy petals parted against him as you slid your heat on his length. The biolights and ridged segments of his spike combined with the vibrations worked your little node like a charm. Megatron had you teetering on the precipice, though he didn’t keep you waiting for long. With an abrupt change in intensity, the vibrations tipped you over in an instant. Your hot cunt grasped at nothing, as you rode out your overload, spreading your honey along his spike. Your chest heaved as you pulled yourself off of him before taking his spike in your hands with a firm grip. Your thumbs glided over his weeping head and then moved down, smoothing your combined lust down his shaft.

Megatron does not breathe in the same manner as you do, yet he awaited your next move with bated breath. Your benevolence, as always, knows no bounds as you didn’t delay in granting his desires. He had surprised you earlier, but the feeling of the vice-grip of your tight heat as you slowly sank down on his spike returned the favor--with interest. Your cunt was heavenly and the sensations he felt as you rode him while he cut through the clouds were nearly indescribable. The freedom of the air and the euphoria felt with his spike deep inside you broke down walls he hadn’t known existed. His pleasured moans were unincumbered as he soared while you bounced your tight little frame on his spike. You followed suit with praise and melodic whimpers as you rode him with abandon. Your satisfied moans were music to his audials.

He knows the sights of this night will be with him until the end of time. The curves of your frame. How you tossed your head back in ecstasy. The way your breasts come together as you braced yourself to grind on his spike harder. The seductive smiles you aimed at his sensors, knowing he was watching. And the sight of his spike being sheathed in your heat, in an angle he had yet to view until then. You graced his spike with multiple overloads—the evidence of which dripped down his length.

Megatron knew that your next overload would take you over the precipice, in more ways than one. Your little heat could only take so much and you were nearly pushing him out with your deliciously merciless spasms. He was faring no better, and you did not require the sight of his visage to confirm it. You began to ride him harder. He couldn’t help but to duet your actions with a growled out, broken moan of his own.

“That’s it, my Spark. Primus, your cunt is divine.” You keened with his praise while your tight cunt fluttered around him. “Yes, sweetspark—you’re so close, I can feel it.” Your breaths quickened. “Ah, yes—you’re so tight…so perfect.” You were hanging by a thread and he was doing no better. “Such a good girl, aren’t you?” You nodded with a whimper that somehow made him impossibly harder. “Such sweet sounds, my Light.” The decibel of your moans increased as his processor nearly reeled from the sensory overload, pun intended. “My beautiful Spark, I need to feel you…be a very good girl for me, and overload…right…NOW!”

The thread snapped and you came undone around his spike just as his overload crashed into him. Your tight cunt milked him exquisitely. A mixture of praise and moans fell from your lips as you rode out your mutual overloads. Your expert movements extended the feeling as far as they could go, until you were panting from the exertion. When you lifted yourself off his spike, you dripped with your combined fluids. The old coding in him could not help but to feel proud at the sight of you overfilled with his transfluid trickling down your legs.

***

By the time Megatron returned to the Nemesis, you were asleep—exhausted with pleasure. He transformed around you with care, depositing you onto his servo without waking you.

“Lord Megatron, how was the sce—” His medic was cut off at the sight of you. “By the Allspark! Is she ok? What’s wrong? What happened to the Dolce dress I just got her?!?!?!?!” He had a genuine look of worry at seeing you sprawled out in Megatron’s servo with your dress torn, while seemingly unconscious.

His second-in-command may be indifferent to your presence though the rest of his high command (and most of his Decepticons in general), have grown to enjoy your company…Knockout especially. You have had spa days with him in his holoform and sleepovers with the medic’s conjunx in tow for movie nights. Thus, should he be aware of just how deep of a sleeper you can be—a fact he had clearly forgotten at the sight of you—or perhaps it was the dress?

Megatron broke into quiet laughter before speaking.

“Knockout, I can assure you, she is in excellent health. She is merely exhausted from our…vigorous sightseeing.” Megatron perked an optical ridge as he eyed the medic for a response. What he received was a flustered-looking Knockout at the implications of his words.

“Ah yes, I understand, Lord Megatron.” The smaller mech righted himself with a knowing smile. “As her physician, I advise that the patient hydrates when she wakes. Sightseeing can be quite…taxing.”

Megatron gave a humored grunt in reply before turning to walk towards his hab. After a step, he looked over his shoulder to the medic.

“I shall see that she gets plenty of fluids, doctor.”

Chapter Text

Megatron was on his way to the bridge for a briefing with a sly smirk on his faceplates. You sat on the palm of his servo, leaning back on your arms while your legs dangled between his digits. The walk to the bridge was enlightening, as he became fully aware of just how familiar you had become with his Decepticons.

He paused in his steps more than once for brief discussions, ranging from horror movie recommendations to love advice. Needless to say, taking casual verbal detours was not something Megatron was accustomed to. On this day however, the more stops, the better. He looked down at you, your visage displayed a radiant smile—confident in the wager the two of you had made back at the hab.

**********

Back at the hab, a short while earlier…

“What’re they for?” You looked at Megatron with wide optics. You ran your delicate fingers over his newest mod connections—so miniscule in size that most would fail to notice them.

“They are for you, my Light.” He perked an optical ridge at your look of surprise, that soon turned into an accusatory squint.

“Me? How are those for me?” You puckered your dermas with a scrunch of your estril while you pondered further. “Oh! Are they for a seatbelt? You’re always talking about how I move around too much on your servo.” Your innocent guess amused him. He laughed to make sure you knew, while a frustrated sigh escaped you. “What? Why are you laughing at me?”

“Not at you my Spark—but at the purity of your conjecture.” Megatron could not help but to laugh at your continued frustration. “I can assure you—this mod is not so innocent in nature.” His optics darkened as he took in your reaction.

“Oh.” You perked a brow at him for a klik before a wide-eyed look of realization set in. “Oh my geebus…is it for—” He nodded in the affirmative…his clue was clearly too easy. He thought it impossible, but your optics somehow widened even further with excitement before they once again narrowed at him in suspicion.

“Show me.” He perked an optical ridge with your demand and your face immediately softened. You batted your lashes at him. “Pretty please?” Megatron gave a gravelly chuckle at your abrupt change in tactic.

“It would seem your good manners have put me under obligation to you, my Light.” He reached into his subspace and pulled out his mod. “What do you think, Little Warrior?” You stood there, with your intake open—staring. There, connected to his palm, was an erect mass-displaced sized spike that was designed after his own. Every line, biolight and ridge mirrored his endowment—and for good reason. He gave a satisfied hum at your reaction as you flashed him a wide smile.

“Is there a reason why that mini-iron giant looks like your giant-iron giant???” Your eyes darted about his faceplate—your anticipation was palpable.  Megatron brought you up closer to him.

“There is. Its sensors are linked to mine.” You immediately tested his words, kneeling down to lick along the mods length. Megatron shuddered at the feeling, while a devious smile overtook your visage.

“Oh, this is gonna be fun…let’s try it out—now.” Your impatient tone was not missed. So needy. Megatron ex-vented.

“Have you forgotten your favorite seeker has requested an audience of me?” He perked an optical ridge at you but your smile didn’t budge.

“Nope, I did not.” You bit your bottom derma. “Take me with you.” A blush spread across your cheeks with your request. “Or…you can stay…it’s not like Screamer can start without you, right?”

If Megatron has learned anything about you, it is that your first option is always your preferred one. Which meant…

“You wish to test it out in public?” He brought you up to his faceplates—close enough for his ex-vents to gently blow your hair. “My Spark, you are quite the turbominx.” He suppressed a hungry growl. “How do you propose we accomplish said goal? You are not quiet in the berth by far.” You splayed your hand on your chest in faux disbelief.

“Me?!?!?” Your face couldn’t hide the laugh threatening to escape you. He was right. Your shoulders sagged in animated defeat. “Fine, I guess you’re right…but I can be quiet when I need to be.” You squinted your optics and scrunched your estril at him. “I bet I wouldn’t be the one to give it away though. You’re not as quiet as a mouse when you cum either.” Your eyes went wide with a thought. “Wait!?!?! Are you gonna…you know???” You made an obscene hand gesture referencing a self-serviced overload—your imaginary spike splashed transfluid along his palm, complete with sound effects as you laughed. Megatron rolled his optics.

“My Light. Not only did I expect your crass attempt at humor, but I also anticipated the possibility of this situation—given your inclination towards…deviant behavior.” His words received an impressed smile from you. “I can reach a climax though it will be a dry overload, unless I allow otherwise.” Said deviance was made apparent with the darkened, full-denta smile you made with the new information.

“Anticipated this situation, huh? Is that why you’re teasing me with a good time before you have to go to a briefing???” You perked an optical ridge at him. “I don’t think I’m alone with my inclination towards deviant behavior.” You shrugged your shoulders. “But it’s ok babe, if you need to blame our fun on me—go for it.” Your sly smile returned.

“My dear, you forget that you were the interested party in regards to my new connections. Additionally, one does not get to my position without acute battle prowess. Just as I know my enemies in battle, I know my lover in the berth.” You perked a brow at him with a blush adorning your visage. “And I never said I did not share in your carnal inclinations.” You put your hands on your hips.

“Fine, fine…you got me there.” You scrunched your estril at him. “Buuuuuut…” Megatron raised an optical ridge at you. “…Since you planned for the situation, I guess there’s nothing stopping us from a little…wager, right?” You ran your tiny human servo on his faceplates, with an enticing intention. “Unless, you’re afraid of losing…”

Megatron knew what you were doing and unfortunately, it was working.

“Afraid?!?! Don’t be absurd. I am the leader of the Decepticons and a gladiator of Kaon, deceit and stamina are par for the course, my Spark.” He narrowed his optics at you. “You, on the other servo, read like an unlocked data pad and I have personally witnessed your comatose state after a good overload. The odds are stacked against you, my Dear.”

You crossed your arms over your chest and narrowed your optics at him. One of the many attributes Megatron admires is your ability to maintain your ground with confidence, even amongst titans—specifically with him.

“Baby, you don’t need to worry about me. Stacked odds are my favorite kind to beat…you know that better than most, my Love.” You gave a satisfied smirk as you awaited his reply. A darkened hum rumbled his chassis.

“Name your terms, Little Warrior.”

**********

Megatron must admit, he has made a few mistakes…but there is one he does not intend to make again: no matter the odds, if your cunt is involved, he will never bet against it again. This experience was the opposite of the scenic route he had enjoyed with you so thoroughly. That was freedom in ways he hadn’t known. This little wager felt like…torture.

He had gone into the briefing with confidence. You had nearly overloaded more than once enroute to the bridge. He had taken advantage of the fact that your movement was limited as he walked. As such, his steps were more calculated and his motions overly exaggerated.

Your focus had been split between keeping yourself steady on his servo and socializing. Outwardly, you displayed a calm demeanor as you lightly bounced on the mod with his focused tread. You smiled as you spoke, even when the countermovement’s of his arms swayed you and changed the angle of the mod to perfectly brush against that sweet spot inside you. Yet with each lingering interaction, your façade began to crack and he made sure to stop for every single one of your friends. Including Knockout, who was very excited to see you wearing the voluminous tulle skirt he had gifted you. The medic noticed something was off, looking between you and Megatron with a perked optical ridge. He made no further comments but the knowing smile he flashed you as he walked away was enough. Megatron rolled his optics—the medic knew far too much as it is. The fluttering of your cunt brought his attention back to you.

“My spark, are you well? You seem to be…perspiring.” Megatron’s booming laugh proceeded his words as he entered the bridge. You sat in his palm, with your eyes shut tight, staving off another overload.

“I’m fine. I can do this.” He doubted your words as you couldn’t even say them without a struggle. He almost felt sorry for you…almost. He took his seat with you on his servo and the mod nestled in your tight heat. He was confident in your defeat—his reactions had been maintained up to then, while you looked as though you had run to the bridge on foot. He was sure his victory was coming…it was only a matter of time.

That time, unfortunately, never came. As soon as he sat down, your demeanor changed. You calmed completely, and looked over your shoulders at him with a smirk. It became clear rather quickly that he had fallen for your trap. Your aim was to deceive him into false confidence. Your near overloads were certainly no act, though the struggle you displayed apparently was. Megatron would have been proud of your deception if not for the fact that he bet against you.

For what felt like cycles, you displayed no outwardly appearance of the torture you had been inflicting on him. You calculated your movements just as he did, hiding them well between your two positions of choice—sitting on your heels or flushed against his palm. You feigned excitement at Starscream’s briefing so you could bounce freely without suspicion. Your tight heat worked the head of his mod with your enthusiastic gestures. Your interest pleased the seeker, while Megatron had grasped the arm of his throne with enough force to leave claw marks on its surface.

The second palm position was achieved under the guise of innocent stretching. You maneuvered your legs so that your heels were beside your thighs, allowing for a full sheathe of the mod within you. With your arms raised and an arch in your back, you made controlled clenches with your vice-like cunt. Your outward movements (and the skirt) hid your gyrating grinds that rubbed your little node against him. Then, you would lean back on your arms, while making the smallest roll of your hips. The angle allowed the mod to once again, brush against that erogenous zone within your heat that had you gripping the mod even tighter.

Megatron’s composure was hanging by a thread. He sat with grit denta and slow, heaving in-vents while you paid attention to the briefing with a sly grin. He cursed his second’s long-winded nature for prolonging his delicious torment. He could feel your overload nearing alongside his, though your face hid that fact exceedingly well. You certainly adopted the Decepticon way. Once again, pride almost worked its way through him until you dealt your coup de grace.

You looked up at him over your shoulder as your hips worked their magic, and with a bite of your bottom derma…you overloaded. Right there, in front of his high command and in the middle of the brief, Megatron could feel the flutter of your cunt while his palm felt the sweet dew of your release. It was too much and not enough. Your tight heat, the honey of your lust, and your covert maneuvers…yet it was the optical contact that threw him over the edge. The ethereal abyss in your wide optics made him a willing participant in your victory. He met his end with a guttural growl that erupted into a roar—albeit cut off, as he checked his panels to ensure the dry overload was exactly that. He ex-vented in relief when he confirmed that it was.

“Lord Megatron, is there a problem?” Starscream was the first to speak as those present stared at him. Megatron looked down at you with narrowed optics and then at the seeker.

“In hindsight and judgement, yes…though it is of no concern to you. Pray, continue Starscream.” You covered your intake as you laughed quietly in your victory. No one dared to question him further and the meeting continued. Megatron looked down at you and perked an optical ridge. He may appear to have taken this loss with grace but once you’re both back at the hab, he fully intended to make you a sore winner.

Chapter Text

“My Light, this is what you crave???” Megatron looked at your reflection in the mirror as you stood beside him. A blush found its way across your cheeks and you shrugged.

“I crave you…in any form.” You looked down with a smile. “You asked me what I was reading, and well…” You gestured to his body. “…That’s it.” Your eyes wandered about while avoiding his optics. He could hear the confidence waning in your voice. A heavy sigh escaped you. “I know, it’s…weird.”

Megatron turned around carefully to face you. He hooked a digit under your jaw, drawing your vision upwards to him. In your wide eyes, he found the words that you needed to hear.

“Not weird, my Spark…your tastes are fantastical and I thank Primus for that.” Your brows furrowed in confusion. “I would not have had a chance with you otherwise.” His words were a balm to your worries—your shoulders visibly relaxed as you exhaled. He smiled down at you. “Now then, let us bask in the carnal whimsy of your erotica.”

He took your tiny hand in his to face the mirror once more. Servos with sharp metal claws were now hands with thick, blunted fingers. His optics…no, his eyes, regarded the rest of his current form while you did the same. Few attributes were familiar. His eyes kept their crimson glow and his body’s colors mirrored that of his finish. His height and overall build were comparable as well, but that is where the similarities ended.

Most parts—like the wide set of dark gray horns that sat above the flaps of furred skin that was his ears—were very different. As was the long mane of pale silver hair that fell past his broad shoulders. Gone was his hard metal frame, in its stead was skin and soft gunmetal fur on his now abundantly muscled body. He no longer stood on pedes—but rather, his strong legs were equipped with hooves. And while clothing his frame had never been a cause for concern throughout his long life, this body had on a black leather loin cloth that covered nothing more than his spike. Megatron heard you yelp and looked down to find his tail had wrapped itself around your ankle. Primus, this was a bizarre experience.

He ushered you to stand in front of him, noting how the muscles in his arms and lightly furred chest expanded and contracted with his movements. He nearly felt like a bare protoform, though not fully in a negative manner—it was simply alien to him. Admittedly, he had felt more vulnerable in past holomatter forms, but this body looked as strong as his true form felt.

Megatron’s eyes found your smile in the mirror once more, and how odd did it feel to return the gesture with a pierced snout! The polished ring rested heavily against the top of his lips. Lips on a strange mouth that replaced his glossa and sharp, jagged denta with a large, flat tongue and the fanged teeth of a beast. He hunched down lower to nuzzle his face in to the crook of your neck. You laughed with how his fur tickled you, before reaching up to stroke his mane—your wide eyes were lovestruck with how he indulges your every whim. He wrapped his strong arms around your middle, bringing you even closer to his body—taking in your scent with closed eyes as he rested his head on your shoulder. When he opened them, it wasn’t his forged faceplates with scarred plating reflecting back at him. Instead, his sight was met with the reflection of a long-maned, silver bull.

******************************

Some days earlier…

“A minotaur?” Megatron looked at you in disbelief. You flashed him a wide smile with a quick nod in the affirmative. His optics widened. “With a human?” You scrunched your nose at his question.

“Oh, that’s weird? You just overloaded in my very human vagina, not ten minutes ago.” You raised an optical ridge at him. “It’s literally still dripping out of me.” Megatron rolled his optics as you giggled.

“I suppose you have a point, my Light. Pray, continue.” Megatron’s words earned him a beaming smile on your visage—his spark surged at the sight.

“Ok…this fic is a reader insert and it begins with a portal opening up in a forest behind “my” house…” Your excitement was evident as you waggled your optical ridges at him. You ex-vented to steady yourself as your eyes descended to the words on the data pad, to narrate a tale of love between a woman and her beast.

******************************

“Shall we take a look, my Light?” Megatron’s crimson eyes took in your nervous state—he couldn’t help the gravelly chuckle that escaped him. “Give me your hand, Little Warrior.” His eyes darkened as he took your hand in his, guiding it behind his loin cloth. You both hissed at what your hand found.

“Oh my...” Your words were spoken with a ravenous drawl as you palmed his hardening member. Satisfied groans emanated from his chest as you brought your other hand to join the first, stroking his length slowly. You bit your bottom derma with his vocalizations. “I think I’m ready for that peak now.” You raised a brow at him in question. He suppressed a hungry growl.

“Your wish, is my command.” Megatron removed the offending piece of fabric—his spike sprung free, fully at attention. His eyes widened at the sight, while you made a very audible gulp. His length and girth hadn’t changed much, but the shape was certainly…animal in nature. The head of his spike was now blunted and slightly flared, with a bead of his lust already gathered at the tip. His silver metals were replaced with light pink flesh that was dotted with darker spots of gray. His length was no longer lined, nor adorned with biolights—instead, his shaft was now heavily veined and throbbing, with ribbed segments that he wanted to slide your wet cunt across. You stroked him with a tight grip before your hands made their way lower, giving his sizable testicles a tug. The sensation was relatively foreign, though definitely not unpleasant…not by far—he couldn’t help the deep groan that escaped him with the gesture. You raised an eyebrow at him with a darkened smile.

“And what is it that you wish for…my Lord?” A blush crept across your cheeks as he rumbled out a growl.

His crimson eyes searched your face as he pulled you in closer with one hand, while the other worked its way behind you—grabbing at the soft form of your aft. Your startled yelp soon gave way to a playful giggle as his other hand joined the first, seizing its fair share of your supple flesh, nearly lifting you off your feet. Megatron gave a pleased hum with your reaction.

His large hands trailed up the sides of your body…slowly, only pausing to rub light circles on the silk covering your nipples, before working them to hardened peaks with a gentle pinch. You bit your bottom derma, leaning into his touch. His hands slid up your chest, slipping under your violet robe. He pushed it off at your shoulders—the fabric gently pooled at your feet. Megatron held your gaze as he pulled at the delicate strap of the matching slip you wore underneath, before letting it snap back against your fair skin. He brought his head closer to your ear, nestling his muzzle in your hair—taking in your sweet scent before he spoke next.

“Reveal yourself to me, Sweetling.”

He righted himself to look at you as you silently slid the straps of your slip off your shoulders—the soft fabric joining your robe at your feet. You stood in front of him, in nothing more than the lace panties that clearly matched the set. He exhaled with a deep, rumbled hum at the sight of you, bringing a thick digit to your clothed cunt—rubbing light circles over your pulsing node. His spike twitched when he slipped his finger lower, finding a growing puddle of dew on your panties. Megatron hooked a digit under your jaw—he now knew what it was that he desired. 

“My Light, I want to taste you…” He looked down at his spike, “…while you taste me.” He released your jaw, sliding his large hand down to gently take hold of your delicate neck—his hand easily encircled it entirely. He felt your pulse rise as your breath quickened.

“Your wish, is my command, my Lord.” Megatron ex-vented out a growl at your mirrored words, tightening his hand around your neck with a domineering hold. You gasped with a smile, before biting your bottom derma. He narrowed his optics at you as he loosened his grip, sliding his hand down and across your shoulder, before trailing it down your arm to take your hand in his to guide you to the berth.

******************************

“My dear, remind me to tell Shockwave that he has far surpassed my expectations with his holomatter advancements.” He removed his tongue from your cunt long enough to announce his congratulatory intentions. You gave a long hum of assent as your lips were otherwise occupied with wrapping themselves tightly around his spike. He moaned unabashedly with the reverberations before plunging his tongue deep inside your tight hole.

Megatron’s chosen position of mutual delight had him lying on his back while you bent over above him—face down with his spike in your mouth, and aft up with his tongue in your delectable heat. He propped himself up on one elbow, with a possessive hold on your ankle. Unbidden, his tail mimicked the gesture on your opposite leg. His other hand was on your ass, as his thumb teased your tight, puckered entrance with a gentle touch.

He basked in the taste of you and devoured your cunt like a mech, no…like a minotaur starved. Would that your nectar could sustain him, as he could drink of you for hours. His tongue moved so differently in this form—both the size and shape of it called for differing tactics to find your pleasure. It lacked in his usual accuracy, but he found you particularly liked when he rolled its sides to touching so he could spear it into your heat—you fucked your little frame against his muzzle with a bounce. Thus did his efforts alternate between filling your heat for your bouncing pleasure and concentrating on your node. He would run his flat tongue across your folds to flick at your clit until you were panting, only to plunge it back into your channel to feel your pleasured constrictions. He consumed your every moan and whimper like he did your sweet lust.

You meanwhile, worked his Megataur spike to perfection. He regarded the adaptive ability of your human body. You are such a diminutive creature, and yet there you stood—pleasing him like you were made to take him…in every form. He reveled in the stretch of your dermas wrapped around the flared head of his spike as your hands, lubricated with both his lust and your salivating want, worked the length your little human intake could not swallow.

You removed your lips from his spike to speak, though Megatron already knew what you were going to say as your tight heat was fluttering around his tongue.

“Baby…fuck.” Your broken whimpers were as music to his audials. “I-I’m gonna cum…” Megatron hummed at your words, satisfied that he knows your body so well. Likewise, he knows that you thoroughly enjoy the mutual satisfaction of his chosen position as much as he does. He held onto your aft tighter—he wanted you to overload and he wanted his tongue inside your vice-like cunt when you did. You let out a desperate moan when he extended his tongue as deep as your little hole could take.

“Wait…baby, what about you—oh fuck—" Megatron growled against your cunt—it resonated from his chest and had you panting with the vibrations. “Baby—I’m not gonna last much longer…” You worked his length with your hands, your warm, breathy gasps blew against the flared head of his spike. Primus, he needed you to come. He ceased the light touch his thumb had on your aft’s puckered entrance, and pressed the tip of that oversized digit inward.

“Oh my god…I-I’m go—” Your words were cut off with your pleasured cries as your overload crashed over you in waves. You gyrated your little frame on his bovine tongue, riding each one out. Megatron’s ravenous moans were muffled against your heat as he delighted in the taste of your satisfaction, drinking it up greedily.

Your climax was heavenly—and intense. He wasn’t sure if it was his form as a minotaur or the manner of which it brought you pleasure, but your peak was markedly…grander. In turn, he was pressurized to a nearly uncomfortable degree. His old coding settled in this primal form and wanted—no, needed to breed you until his seed trickled down your legs. It was a powerful pull for the impossible…at least for the time being. After the last carnal wave ebbed from your being, you collapsed beside him on the berth with a smile on your face. Megatron licked his large lips with a throaty chuckle.

“My dear, I hope you haven’t exhausted yourself.” He glanced down at his rock-hard spike. “We still have chapter four to reenact.”

Chapter Text

Megatron had come to this planet to conquer its inhabitants and utilize its resources to revive his home world. He had not an ounce of guilt at the prospect of enslaving, or terminating, seven billion beings and destroying their world if it meant Cybertron would live…with him at the helm, of course. He had no intention of peaceful cohabitation. Humans were to be slaves or organic matter to cyberform, nothing more.

He huffed a laugh at himself at the thought of his previous intentions and how far he has strayed from his intended course as he sat in a banquet hall of a hotel, serving as your plus one at a wedding.

*******************************

A few months ago…

“Fucking shit. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

“Is something the matter?” Megatron was unsure how a piece of paper could irritate you so. You turned to him, clearly frustrated even without the expletives.

“Yeah, my friend is getting married in a few months.” You sighed as Megatron perked a brow at you.

“And this bothers you, my Light?” Were you envious of your friends’ position? Perhaps it was time to—

“Yes and no.” You pinched your brows and cut off his trail of thought. “I’m happy for her, I am…it’s just…” You looked down at your feet, evading elaboration. He focused his optics on you with as squint as you worried your bottom derma. “Ok.” You straightened your stance in resolve. “You know my ex?”

Megatron grunted. Of course, he knew of your ex. He was a coward with a fragile ego that hid behind a mask of false confidence. He somehow convinced you to believe you were irreparably broken and used you until there was nearly nothing left.

“Yes, I can recall such an individual.” You smiled at him.

“I love that you refuse to say his name.” You scrunched your estril at him. “Anyway, my friend that’s getting married—I actually met her through him.” You punctuated your words with a quick sigh. “So, he’s gonna be there…”

“And?” Your apprehension was apparent in your wide optics.

“And, I’m not sure how to feel about it.” You wrung your hands together. “I wanna be there for her…but…”

“But?” You looked to your feet with his one worded question.

“I’m afraid.” You looked ashamed at your confession. “I’ve not seen him since court and you know what’s happened since then.” Megatron did know. His behavior was markedly that of a scorned lover, despite the fact that he was the one to end it.

“I have not rescinded the offer to terminate that worthless piece of slag, should that be your wish…Soundwave was quite adamant in his want to offline him.” You laughed, but he was serious. “Though there is a less bloody alternative should your benevolence once again prove to outweigh your fears…”

******************************

The day of the wedding…

Megatron is nothing if not thorough. His offer of attendance was not taken lightly. In the months after the invitation was received, he ensured his holoform was flawless, he had Soundwave assist in a wedding protocol data pack, and allowed his medic to style him for the black-tie event. There was also another matter, though he made no mention of those plans to you.

When you entered the living room of your hotel penthouse suite, Megatron’s holoform eyes widened at the sight of you. He should have known the medic would have a servo in your attire as well. You looked breathtaking though he did not require the need to breathe.

“My dear, isn’t outshining the bride considered poor taste to you humans?” He rose from his seated position to take your hand. “Your radiance will surely prove to be distracting to those around you.” You laughed with a blush on your cheeks as he spun you around for a better view of you.

“You’re just saying that cause you love me.” Your cheeks somehow darkened even further. Megatron hummed as he pulled you in close to him, his arms wrapped around your waist.

“Possibly,” you pouted as he continued, “Though that doesn’t make the statement untrue.” You beamed at his words. “Come my pet, let us enjoy the human rituals of matrimony.”

******************************

A few hours later…

“She’s looking pretty good, right? Happy, at least.” Megatron stood on the opposite side of the oversized hotel lavatory, hidden from view by a large wall lined with sinks, when he heard the beginnings of a conversation.

“Sure, I guess. Did you see the dude she’s with? Or should I say grandpa?” Megatron rolled his eyes, he knew exactly who was speaking…it was your ex.

“Bro, he’s older, yeah—but I’ve seen every woman here stare at him like he’s made of gold.” Megatron huffed, at least their conversation held some truth—from the friends end at least. The waitress serving his champagne had stared at him enough to miss the fact that she overfilled his glass until it spilt on him, hence his need to wash his hands. How fortuitous accidents can be.

“He’s probably loaded. Chicks can smell that shit.”  Oh…Megatron was indeed loaded, in more ways than one.

“She wasn’t with you for the money…” Of course you weren’t, though Megatron couldn’t fathom why you gave him the time of day. Apparently, he made you laugh…that was until he consistently made you cry.

“No, but she sure did try to take it from me.” Megatron’s brow perked at the blatant lie.

“Bro. You offered. And then took it back and took her to court.” Megatron hummed. So, his mistreatment of you was known, at least amongst his friends. That explains the sympathetic looks that some guests had given you when the two of you first arrived at the ceremony.

“Hey, who’s side are you on?” Megatron rolled his eyes…again. What a sparkling.

“Yours man, it’s just the truth. Alls I’m saying is she’s looking good, nothing more.” Megatron hummed in agreement. Your light is apparent, for as the evening wore on the sympathetic looks turned into spoken compliments. You healed stronger than before and it showed…Little Warrior indeed.

“Yeah well, I’m sure she’s still a prudey bitch. What a waste of a primo pussy.” Megatron curled his human fingers into a fist. Who in the slag does he think he is?

“Dude, maybe it was you!” Megatron smiled. He didn’t care for the crass talk of your cunt, but he was glad to know that yours was indeed exceptional. He’s not fragged another human, nor does he have the inclination to do so. The strength you showed the night he met you ensured there would never be another.

“Fuck you man. I knew you were on her side.” Megatron daydreamed of kicking that disgusting flesh bag…while in his true form. He wondered how far he would fly…off of the deck of the Nemesis.

“It was a joke dude, don’t get all butt- hurt.” It seems your ex was averse to the truth and Megatron did not wish to waste an opportunity like this.

Before the piece of slag could leave, Megatron rounded the corner with a smirk on his face. The dolt gave a look of mortification while his friend poorly held back his own laughter. Megatron huffed and then stepped closer to your ex. The cretin looked uncomfortable and began to sweat, Megatron could smell the difference instantly. Disgusting. Before the idiot could disgrace his olfactory sensors any longer, Megatron lowered his head to whisper a confirmation.

“Your friend was correct…it was you.”

Megatron righted himself with another smirk and exited the lavatory. He saw you wave from across the room and smiled, knowing his plan would surely deal the killing blow.

*******************************

A few hours later, back in your suite…

“Harder---go harder, please!” You yelled an eager moan out as Megatron pounded into your cunt.

The two of you were on the floor, your champagne-fueled lust didn’t allow the few steps needed to get to the bedroom. Your dress was puddled by the suite door, though your silver heels still adorned your pedes. The patio doors were wide open. The sea breeze gently blew into the room, making the curtains billow like waves.

“As you wish.” He put your legs on his shoulders to drill into you. His words were laced with a deep growl.

Despite his human holomatter form, his spike remained the same. It was a detail that had you reeling when he told you in the elevator. You pushed him against the wall to palm his spike for confirmation. With a darkened smile, you put your arms around his neck and guided him down for a passionate kiss to show him just how pleased you were at the revelation.

“Fuck! Oh my god, YES!!! Just like that! Fuck—” Your body glistened with your desperate moans as you tossed your head back. Megatron caught sight of your lavalier and the old coding within him pushed him into a punishing pace.

“Darling, your cunt—Primus.” You were impossibly tight, deliciously so--if he was to be one with the Allspark in that moment, he would die a happy mech. “Yes, tighten that little cunt around me. Yes—just like that.” He couldn’t help but let out a fierce, guttural roar with your spasms.

“Baby---oh my god—faster.” Megatron had you nearly folded in half and still you wanted more. “Fuck—yes, that’s perfect…keep going.”

“I have no intentions of ceasing, Little Warrior.” You replied with keening wails and his eyes darkened further---his plan was taking shape quite nicely. “Talk to me--tell me what you want.”

“Choke me—own me—oh fuck.” You spoke in sharp, breathy gasps. Primus, you were perfect for him. Megatron glanced at the patio and smiled. “BREED ME!!!” Your magic words had earned an animalistic growl from him as he placed his forearm across your neck. Your cunt made sure he could feel how much you liked it.

“Ah yes sweetling, that’s good.” Hearing your sweet cries somehow made him pressurize further.  “Like that? You like it when I go harder, don’t you?” He punctuated each word with a hard thrust into your heat. How long had he lived without you, without a kindred spark to please him? Too long—far too long.

“Yes Master, just like that---OH MY GOD!” Master? Perhaps he was already one with the Allspark. However—

“Cease your cries to your god, girl—you are mine.”  He growled out his last words as he put more pressure on your delicate neck. You mewled louder in response while he hummed a wanton growl. “What a good pet.”

“Yes, yours—only yours.” You spoke with a broken, whimpered moan—the sound of you stroked his ego like your cunt grasped his spike. “No one else…not—ever—”

“Ever what, pet?” A husky moan followed his words. He wanted you to say it…but would you? “Primus, you’re so tight.”

“No one—n-no one fucks me—” You panted in between your words. “Like you—do, Master.” Your words were cried out with a tremble, as he pistoned into you. Megatron could not have hoped for more that night…you were an unknowing participant to his side quest and played your part to perfection.

“That’s right.” He maintained his punishing pace as he spoke with a satisfied snarl. His possessive nature pleased you, which in turn, pleased him. You were strong and independent…but the berth was a different story altogether. “And no one else ever will.” His words were spoken with gritted denta.

“No one—yes, Master.” You were so wet. Combined with his lust, it made the most delectable sound. “Make me yours.”

“You already are, Love.” His…forever.

“BREED ME!!!” His old coding sang! “Oh my god, I’m so close.” Your words were wasted as they echoed across the room, he already knew you were close.  “Breed—me…please!”

“Since you asked so nicely—” With a throaty groan, he removed your ankles from his shoulders and promptly changed positions, turning you over on your hands and knees before sheathing his spike into your heat. “How’s that? You like it deep, don’t you?” You let out a desperate moan as you pushed yourself back against him as he thrusted into you.

“Fuck! Yes, oh my—YES!” Megatron chuckled at the quick correction of your moaned out words. Your praise belonged to him alone. “Harder!” He growled out another throaty moan. You were truly a femme after his own spark.

“Primus, you’re—amazing!” The view in this position was glorious. He couldn’t help the guttural roar that escaped him as he watched as his spike disappear into your cunt---over and over and over again. “You’re taking me so well.”

“Pull my hair—please!” Your cries were punctuated with his rough thrusts as you pulled your hairpins out, letting your tresses fall around you like dark ink.

“Like that? You’re so dirty—aren’t you?” Megatron bellowed darkly in ecstasy as he took hold of your hair and pulled, just how you like it. He knew what else you wanted to hear. “Such a slut, my pet.” Your whimpering moans increased. He once again glanced at the open patio. “Is that what you want?”

“Yes!” Squelching. Your cunt was dripping—it was carnally filthy in the most pressurizing of ways. “Your slut—only yours.” He wasn’t going to last much longer if you kept talking like that. “Baby…oh—my god.” You hissed-out an in-vent, quickly realizing your mistake, but he would not let it slide.

“I’m sorry—I didn’t hear you correctly.” Megatron gave a dark chuckle and pulled your hair tighter. He leaned down next to your face. “What was that?”

“Master! I’m gonna—cum.” He gave another glance at the patio.

“Oh no—not yet my pet.” Your cunt desperately attempted to milk his spike—the tight flutters nearly had him overloading. But not yet. “Only when I say…do you understand?” He spoke with a deep growl while another pull of your hair had you whimpering. “Do you?”

“YES!! I—understand!” You keened with your submission. Perfection, you were complete perfection. “Please—”

“Oh no, not yet.” Staving off his overload had become a herculean task. His lines felt as taut as a bow string. “I need to fuck my slut harder, right?”

“Please!” You cried out as he pounded into your cunt harder. The sound of skin slapping skin was a sinful chorus.

“Yes! Tighten that little cunt.” You were so impossibly tight. “So perfect.” BREED HER, his old coding yelled. “Such a good girl.” He began to pant through his words. “Tell me you want my seed.” He released his grip on your hair to lean over you--his body was pressed against your back. He snaked a hand under your arm to take hold of the front of your neck--his large hand encircled it completely.  “Tell me you want it, now.”

“Master! Please! Please breed me—make me drip.” Another dark chuckle escaped him as he gave another glance towards the patio. He tightened his hold on your neck, while guiding your flushed bodies upward.

“As you wish, my pet.” Megatron was pounding into you as you arched your back against him—your breasts bounced with your efforts. He took hold of one of your hardened buds, and pinched it until you moaned. “Yes, just like that.” He ex-vented deeply between his words. He could feel you flutter around him. “We’re almost there.”

“Yes! Please—oh—my—” Your breath hitched and your panted whimpers raised in volume.

“Frag, your so close, I can feel it.” A perfect vice on his spike. “Do you want to come, pet?”

“Yes Master, please!” He mercilessly thrusted into you with your cried plea and looked to the patio once more.

“That’s it.” He tightened his grip on your neck and your cunt pulled him in further, desperate for release. “Such a good girl.” Megatron’s chest heaved with his incoming pleasure. The hand on your breast travelled lower. He began to circle your little node and you nearly screamed. He growled out a chuckle. “Alright darling…” He couldn’t hold himself off any longer. He quickened his movements on your pulsating clit. “Overload…now!”

“OHMY—YES!!YES!!!!” Your overload was spectacular—the sweet sounds of your pleasure filled the room—and echoed through to the patio. Megatron filled you with a fierce roar, grunting with each thrust until you were overfilled and dripping.

******************************

The next morning, at breakfast…

Megatron sat across from you as you ate. You were absolutely glowing, possibly due to the fact that he had your sweet cunt for his breakfast before you both ventured out of your suite.

You smiled with each bite, humming your happy food song.

Someone behind you caught his eye. It was your ex and the piece of slag made no attempts to hide his displeasure. Megatron stared directly at him, challenging him to approach your table. The mutual stare lasted a few kliks longer before a resigned expression overcame his pathetic face. The coward retreated with an empty plate and his tail tucked between his legs. Megatron laughed loudly while you look confused.

He silently pinged Soundwave. Good work Soundwave, mission accomplished.

*****************************

A few days earlier…

“Soundwave, I have a task for you.” The silent mech turned towards him with a question mark displayed on his visor. “The ex. I anticipate a confrontation of sorts. Arrange to have his accommodations upgraded to the suite below mine.”

Soundwave’s pauldrons lightly bounced with his silent laughter while his visor displayed emojis:

🤖🍆+🙋‍♀️📣=🤬

Megatron threw his head back as he laughed. “Exactly.”

Chapter Text

Hey Babe, going home for a bit. I’ll be back later. Miss me while I’m gone. 💜 -xx

Megatron huffed. Why did you not message him? He had a data pad made for you for that specific reason. You made no mention of going home before he left the hab earlier. And where did you get a reem of paper and the paint for a Cybertronian sized note?

Being the selfishly impatient mech that he is, of course he flew down to your residence. When he arrived on your property, you were sprawled out on a chaise in your backyard. He transformed and began his walk towards your position, taking in the sight of you.

You were wearing a short-hemmed dress and made not one move to lower the bent knee that gave him an enticing view of your clothed cunt. You were also wearing large sunglasses, and while your head made no movement, Megatron knew you were watching him---your devious little smile gave you away. Still, you feigned interest in reading the data pad you held in one hand (that you clearly had access to) while you held some type of Earth food in the other.

It was brightly colored, with swirls of orange and red that glistened against the sun’s rays as it melted, clearly indicating its temperature. You held it by the wooden stick in which it was impaled by, waving it around absentmindedly with a lazy sway of your wrist.  

“Hey babe.” You put your data pad down and removed your dark lenses to look up to his mass-displaced form. You scrunched your estril at him with a smile. “Missed me too much?” You raised the unknown sustenance to your mouth and instead of biting it, you licked along its side---once, twice and again, before wrapping your plush dermas around it to suck on the tip. Megatron cleared his intake at the sight. You perked a brow at him as you slid the mystery meal out of your mouth, slowly. “What?”

“Is that what you came down for, my Spark?” He narrowed his optics at you as you looked at him with feigned wide-eyed innocence.

“Huh?” You bit your bottom derma. “Oh this?” You giggled before taking another quick swipe at it with your tongue. “It’s a popsicle—a big stick, to be exact.” Megatron hummed, it was aptly named.

“Could we not have acquired this phallic treat on the ship?” You maintained optical contact with him as you pushed the big stick deep into your mouth, before pulling it back out with a pop. Primus.

“We could have, yeah…but it’s not really fun having a popsicle in a cold ship.” A blush graced your visage. “I needed the right setting to enjoy my big--” You paused to slowly run your tongue along its side, “stick.” You were teasing him and he decided to return the favor.

“I see…So, this big stick requires the perfect conditions to enhance your dining pleasure.” He focused his optics on yours with a deep growl. “Such as the lascivious drag of your talented tongue to maintain its…hardened shape.” You had once told him that he could get you off with his voice alone. Your plush lips parted in surprise with his rumbled words. He was sure your node was pulsing. “I can see that the enveloping warmth of your mouth seems to assist in the release of its sweet…essence.” You audibly gulped. Megatron smirked at your shaken state.

“Uh…I mean, I was just talking about some place over sixty-five degrees, but yeah, your conditions are like, waaaaay better.” The short hem of your dress fluttered with the breeze, drawing Megatron’s optics lower on your frame. You rubbed your soft thighs together, it would seem his payback was a success. He let out a low gravelly chuckle.

“I do have a way with words…don’t I, my Spark?” Before you could respond, your eyes went wide as you let out a surprised yelp. Your snack had begun to drip down your hand.

“Oh shit.” You used your tongue in an attempt to catch the happy accident. Your efforts were unsuccessful--the popsicle continued to drip down your wrist. Flustered, you turned to get your napkin. Without a thought, you took what was left of your big stick into your mouth--freeing your hands for an easier clean up. It nearly disappeared completely. Megatron took in the sight of you with a darkened hum.

“And it would seem that you have a way with your mouth, my pet.” Megatron knelt down in front of you and pulled the ice cream out of your mouth…slowly. Your wide optics bore into his as he brought his other servo up to gently wipe away what your lips and tongue had missed. He brought his digit back to his intake and ran his glossa along it for a taste. “Sweet.” He perked an optical ridge at you. “Would you like more, my Light?” His question seemed to jostle you out of the lust-fueled trance his glossa had put you under. You nodded with an eager pace.

“Oh, fuck me…” you said breathily. You seemed to have surprised yourself with your enthusiasm and attempted to reign it in. “Oh, I mean, yes…please.” His darkened optics met the onyx pools of your eyes as he brought the big stick to your mouth.

“Open wide.” You did as you were told without question, like the good girl you are. He ex-vented deeply as he slowly pushed it past the threshold of your mouth. You closed your plush dermas around the frozen treat and Megatron spoke with a husky growl. “Now…suck.”

And so, it went. Megatron knelt before you, turning the innocent act of eating dessert into a depraved show as he began to pump the sweet confection in and out of your warm mouth with shallow thrusts. When another drop escaped your lips once more, he ceased his movements and slowly pulled it out completely. Your cheeks darkened.

“It’s a little too melty.” You bit your bottom derma as you spoke with a shy smile while Megatron’s optical ridges furrowed with feigned concern.

“My poor Spark. Would you like to fill your mouth with something that can better hold its shape?” His optics darkened along with the tone of his voice. “Something that will satiate your need to…suck on something sweet?” Your cheeks somehow darkened further. You were so reactive--he filed his desire to make good on getting you off with his words alone in the very near future.

“I think I would, yes.” Your words drew his faceplates closer to you—your breath hitched when his ex-vents ghosted your face. He placed the nearly forgotten dessert on the plate on your side table before focusing his optics on you once more.

“Lead the way, Little Warrior.” He retreated from your proximity as you stood up from the chaise. You took his servo in yours, guiding him through your home and into your bedroom. When you reached the side of your bed, you turned around to face him.

Without a word, you slipped the delicate straps of your dress down your shoulders before unzipping its back closure. You let the garment fall to your feet. The cool air of your ceiling fan caressed your bare skin, bringing the buds on your breasts to stiff peaks. Megatron growled deeply at the sight. He wanted to kneel--to take them in servo, to feel the soft flesh of your body before worshipping you with his glossa.

A sly giggle brought his processor back to center. You left him standing there, at the edge of your bed while you walked around to the opposite side. Megatron perked an optical ridge at you, unsure of your next move. The look on your face clearly expressed your pleasure at that fact. Silently, you crawled onto the bed towards him, though instead of meeting his frame by sitting up, you instead turned over to lay on your back…with your head hanging off the edge of the bed and in-between his legs. Oh. Megatron smirked down at you.

“My dear, I do not recall you enjoying your frozen delight in a similar manner.” You raised your brow at him with a smile.

“Is that so? Hmmm.” You bit your bottom derma. “Maybe that’s because this isn’t just for me anymore. It’s an afternoon delight…for us.” Megatron glanced out your window.

“The sun will begin to set shortly, my Spark.” You scrunched your estril at him with a smile.

“It is? Well, does that mean you don’t wanna fuck my face then?” You feigned the motions to get up from your prone position before Megatron stopped you with a servo on your chest. He hooked a digit under your jaw, drawing your head further off the side of the bed and then knelt his tall frame in front of you with an ex-vented growl.

“My Light, the sun could explode for all I care.” He caressed your cheeks with a light touch. “The heavens could fall all around us as the planet goes to ruins. The entire universe could cease to exist and I would care for none of it…save for you.” He ran a digit across your lips. “For it is in your delights that I find my bliss.”

“Such sweet words my Love. But I think you promised me something sweeter.” Primus the word-play alone had him half-cocked.

“As you wish.” Megatron brought a servo to gently caress your neck as he retracted his panels. He could already picture the bulging outline of his spike. He took himself in servo, stroking slowly. You were bathed in crimson light as he admired the soft expanse of your ivory skin, bared for him except for the black lace that covered your cunt. Word play was fun, but the sight of you had him fully cocked in no time. He looked down at you with one final question. “Ready?” It was an unnecessary vocalization as you had been staring at his pressurized spike with needy optics as soon as he had retracted his panels.

Your response came without words, but with action. You raised your hands to reach for him, pulling his frame closer---guiding his spike into your warm mouth with a pleased hum. Pleasure jolted through him as you wrapped your dermas around him. With a strained grunt, he braced himself against the bed—careful not to move until you were ready. You held onto the sides of his hips for a moment longer before pulling him closer, allowing his spike to sink even deeper into the tight bliss of your throat. 

Megatron groaned at the feel of you—the heat of your mouth was divine. He took your queues and began to thrust his spike into you, as your hands guided his pace. When he looked down, his hips stuttered as he nearly hilted himself. Just as he had envisioned, the outline of his length was apparent on your throat.

You bowed your back off the bed and the breeze of the fan carried the scent of your dew to his sensors—clear evidence of the pleasure you find in pleasing him. He snaked a servo down the center of your body until it met your tight heat. He ran his digits along the fabric covering your cunt, circling your node before dipping lower. Just as he had suspected, your lust had already begun to flow, leaving a delicious spot of dew on your panties. Impatient as ever, he sliced at the fabric to cup your little cunt. He spread your honey along your petals and around your clit before pushing a large digit into your heat. Your muffled whimpers travelled through his spike—the sensation was intensified as he took in your depraved state.

You were a vision with your plush dermas wrapped tight around his spike. Tears ran down the sides of your face as evidence of your efforts at testing your reflexes to take him to the hilt. It stroked his pride as hard as your throat swallowed his length.

Once again, he found himself in awe with how your body opens up for him. In your pleasure, you had thrusted your hips up and held them there—the angle allowing him to piston his digit into you hard, just the way you like it. He added another digit into your heat and hissed an in-vent at the feel of you.

“Primus, sweetling—-you’re so tight.” You hummed out a whimper and he groaned at the reverberations. His ex-vents deepened as did the depth of his thrusts into your mouth. He paced them in time with his digits as they pounded into your heat. The filthy sound of your nectar overflowing with each thrust was pushing him ever closer to the precipice. The tight grip and massaging flutter of your cunt told him you were fairing no better. 

The two of you were lost in your passion as you journeyed to the edge together. His fans roared as loud as his bellowed moans and the muffled cries you sang from around his spike. Megatron glanced towards the window. When had the sun set? How long had you both been teetering on your shared cliff of ecstasy?

An indulgent thought crossed his processor at the sight of your darkened room. He adjusted the intensity of the biolights that lined his spike and then looked down. The ivory skin of your neck was adorned with the dimmed scarlet lights that shone from within you—it was proof of the depths your body pulled him to. The glow of the erotic light display reminded him of the magnificent rubies from the mines of Burma. It was nostalgic and new and completely too much.

“My Light, you are amazing.” He rutted deep into your mouth with a ravenous growl. Knowing he wouldn’t last much longer, he bent over your tiny frame, bringing his intake to your drenched cunt. His glossa joined his digits, concentrating on your now lust-swollen node. The taste of you threatened to push him over but he held off for your pleasure first. Your chest was heaving with the air your lungs could not receive with his spike so deep in your throat. You held on to his hips with a tight grip, ensuring he maintain his depth within you. You had no idea how much of a dream you truly are. His glossa and digits fucked you with a punishing pace for your pleasure and safety both—the squelch of your cunt was sinful.

At last, with a hard arch of your back, your tight walls gripped his digits with your overload. You took him into your mouth impossibly deeper as you rode out your pleasure, the action triggering his own release. He let out a guttural roar as your throat milked his spike while you attempted to cry out from around him—his transfluid spilled past your dermas with your efforts. You tapped his leg and he adjusted his thrusts so you could breathe. You both rode out your overloads together, chasing the pleasure for as long as you could. 

When Megatron finally pulled out of your mouth with another pop, you in-vented deeply with a smile on your dermas. The dark corners of your vision were clearly returning from the stars that overcame your sight with swallowing him whole and the subsequent release found through it. Your chest heaved and the light bounced off your glistening body with the movements. He made his way around to the other side of the bed and gently pulled your soft frame to him, allowing your head to comfortably rest on the bed. His optics focused on you with an ex-vent. You were stunning, truly.

…

A few hours later, on the Nemesis…

Megatron watched you rummage through the contents of your freezer. You had both just settled down when you popped up to grab a quick snack. Megatron’s optics focused on what you had retrieved and he let out a booming laugh at the sight.

You returned to him, sucking on a big stick. You looked at him as you slowly pulled out the not-Nemesis approved snack from your mouth—and of course it made that delectable pop. You gave him your most innocent smile that did nothing to hide the revelation of your deception and how he played into your expertly laid plan.

“What?” 

What indeed…he could not have been prouder.

Chapter Text

Megatron returned to the hab to find you rummaging through a large box of photos. You sat on the top of his desk with piles of them around you, he was sure there was a method to your madness though he dared not ask—following your train of thought can prove to be a dizzying experience.

“Hey Babe!” You looked up at him with a full denta smile. “Wanna see how cute I was as a kid???” You looked at him with raised brows and clear excitement. Megatron raised an optical ridge at you as he sat down at the desk.

“Do I have a choice?” You stuck out your glossa and blew a raspberry at him. Why the action is referred to as such, he cannot say—it was just another Earth custom that made no sense. Speaking of which---

“Look!” You held up a photo. Megatron expected to see a photo of little-you smiling. What you showed him was a photo of yourself, holding up a bandaged arm with a grimace on your little visage. The surprise had him grunt out a grin.

“What injury befell your tiny frame to vex you so?” He leaned down as he spoke, taking in the photo in full. It was no mistaking it was you---your wide optics have not changed much. They were dark pools that reflected your feelings without much room for doubt. You were clearly irritated in that moment. You flipped the photo back around to look at it again and found your answer, with a laugh.

“I got into a fight with a slip’n slide…and lost.” You spoke as if he was to know what you were referring to.

“A slip’n slide?” He scrutinized the photo further. “Why are you not wearing coverings?” You looked at the photo again with a laugh.

“I’m wearing a bathing suit you weirdo.” You scrunched your estril at him. “And a slip’n slide is a backyard water toy that’s basically a plastic tarp that you slick with water so you can slide across it.” You shook your head with the memories that seemed to flood your vision.

“Sounds exhilarating…and primitive.” You rolled your optics at his sarcastic tone. “Though that does not explain your injury in the slightest.”

“Oh, hush you! It was fun—so long as you could avoid getting road rash or worse if the damn thing wasn’t wet enough. I’m pretty sure that’s what happened here, though I don’t remember.” Megatron hummed.

“Sounds like another activity I know of.”  You gave him an incredulous look as if he had offended your sensibilities before transitioning into a giggle.

“I guess it does.” Just a moment earlier you were lost in your memories as a child, yet the look you held just then was of a devious nature. You had an idea.

“My Spark?” His voice seemed to shake you out of your thoughts. You looked at him with a shy smile.

“Oh nothing, I was just wondering what it’d be like to play with you.” He raised an optical ridge at you.

“Darling, I have no want to slip nor slide myself across cheap plastic.” You bit your bottom derma and raised your brows in a conciliatory manner.

“No? Are you sure?” Megatron huffed. “That’s too bad cause I would have been slipping and sliding—” You walked closer to his faceplates for emphasis. “—on your spike.” Megatron closed the gap between you with a growl.

“Elaborate, now.”

…

A short while later….

Megatron sat on his desk chair, facing the windows of his hab. His back was flushed tight against his chair while his pedes were braced against the window panes. His fans were roaring alongside his deep ex-vents and heaving chassis. His denta were bared and grit tight and his optics cast no light in their closed state.

“Eyes on me, love.” Your voice was calm and even, as if it wasn’t privy to your current state. Megatron could not stifle the ravenous growl that escaped him as he opened his optics to find you both in the windows reflection. You bit your bottom derma with a wicked smile. “Hi.” Must you remain so calm as he falls to pieces? Megatron’s optics focused on the reflection of your wide eyes, darkened and half-lidded with your pleasure. “Good boy.” He groaned with your praise. He would have never thought simple flattery would affect him so until he met you.

“Primus.” He uttered the name without thought and you stopped your movements, much to his utter disappointment. You leveled a stare at his reflection with a perked brow.

“I don’t think that’s my name, Love.” Megatron now understands how easily a slip of the glossa can be. He hadn’t realized his error until you paused. “Don’t forget who it is that…brings…you…pleasure.” You punctuated your words with a roll of your hips and a squeeze of your thighs, earning you a pitiful moan from him as you smiled at his reflection. “Now then, say…my…name.” You nearly growled out your words as you repeated your emphatic grind against his spike. It was incredibly sexy.

“My apologies—” He groaned out your name as you leant forward to push your bare breasts against his spike, clearly pleased in his reaction.

“And to think,” you looked up at him over your shoulder as you sat up, “you thought this wouldn’t be fun.”

“My spark,” Megatron paused his words as you leant back on arms with the biggest roll of your hips he had ever seen. “I shall never doubt you again.” You gave a seductive chuckle with his strained words.

“That’s right.” You looked back to the mirror that was his window, focusing on his optics reflection. The indirect optical contact made his spike twitch. The movement jostled you slightly, allowing for a scenic view of your bouncing breasts. “Like the show?” Megatron nodded his head in the affirmative before throwing his helm back against the chair he sat on. “Then why don’t you use me?” Primus. He hadn’t expected your slip’n slide proposal to be so thoroughly satisfying. He took your tiny waist in his servos and began to slide your frame along his spike from base to tip.

…

A short while earlier…

“You wish for me to use you as a frag doll?” Megatron looked at you incredulously. Not because the idea was unheard of. You’ve ridden his faceplates like a doll and he’s coated your body in his transfluid while at full-size. “I don’t think you mentioned that when you first explained the rules, my Spark.” You blushed as he perked an optical ridge at you.

“Just think of it as an assisted-ride kinda-slip’n slide.” You brought your clasped servos to your chest with a smile. “I promise you’ll have fun.” Megatron huffed.

“I suppose we shall see, won’t we? Thy will be done, my Light.” You let out an excited giggle and went to work.

Your return was a most delectable sight. Megatron placed your small frame back on his desk to admire you as another blush adorned your visage. You stood before him holding a bottle in one hand while wearing, what he had come to learn was a bikini.

It was black and left absolutely nothing to the imagination. The top consisted of two miniscule triangles, held against you with strings tied at your neck and mid-back. It pushed your breast together in a most enticing manner. Your bottoms meanwhile, barely covered your cunt and aft and he was not complaining one bit. It had ties like your top, though they sat on the sides of your hips. Your fair skin took on a crimson glow with his staring. He looked to the unknown bottle in your hand.

“It’s lube…” You squinted your eyes in thought, before correcting yourself. “Actually, it’s massage oil that can be used in place of, but you get it, yeah?” You smiled as you answered his unspoken question. His optical ridge perked with a hum.

“We’ve not required such assistance in the past, my Spark.” Megatron brings your body to dripping, so there has never been a need for such things.

“True.” You smiled at him and scrunched your estril. “But your full-sized iron giant is a bit much for my little kitty—” His optics narrowed at you. “—no matter how much I drip for you.” Megatron sat back on his chair with your response. Your previous words came to mind. It was fun—so long as you could avoid getting road rash or worse if the damn thing wasn’t wet enough.

“I see.” He hummed. “We certainly cannot risk hurting your tight little heat, could we?” You beamed up at him as you gathered your thick curls up with an elastic.

“That’s right.” You looked around the hab. “Ok, now pick me up and turn your chair towards the windows.” Megatron did as he was asked and awaited further instructions. “Pop that panel, Big Guy.”

He retracted his panels as you stood in his lap. You had begun the task of lubricating your body. Megatron watched as you rubbed the oil into your skin. You caressed your breasts and ran your hands down your stomach. Before you moved lower, you spread your legs and then bent down at the waist, with your aft facing him. You took your time, making yourself glisten from your toes up to the apex of your thighs. It was a sinful sight. He didn’t need to be told to take himself in servo—your show insisted on the behavior. “My, my…it looks like my ride is all ready to go, huh?” Your darkened smile sent a jolt through his spike.

“Are you ready to slip and slide, my Spark?” He returned your darkened smile with one of his own and extended his servo to assist you. “Come.” As he placed you atop the base of his spike, you giggled.

“Oh, I intend to…a few times.” Primus, you drove him crazy.

Megatron thought he had an idea of what to expect after he placed you on his spike. The concept was simple enough. You were going to slip and slide along his length--an enhanced mutual self-service, if you will. He should have known better---you do nothing in halves.

He quickly found out that your bikini was mostly for show…and oh, what a show it turned out to be. You writhed atop his pressurized spike as if dancing. Your first few movements were made with you faced away from him to show him just how tight a grip your body could achieve. It startled him into a groan. He narrowed his optics at you as he watched you move.

When you turned to face him, the show truly began. You swung your leg to stand, and his spike followed suit without the weight of you on top of his length to hold it down. You leant against his erect spike and swayed your hips while your legs trailed your movements with a fluid grace. He was sure you were dancing to some kind of song in your dirty little mind. You ran your hands up and down the slicked skin of your body, caressing your breasts and rubbing at your clothed cunt until he was heaving with deep ex-vents. You tossed your head back with a wanton giggle, clearly proud of the power you hold over him with your tiny form.

“Like my little strip tease, baby?” You bit your bottom derma and Megatron was unsure of how the top half of your face could express wide-eyed innocence while the bottom half looked as though it wanted to eat him whole. You strutted around his spike with a hand trailing your movements. When you came back around, you gave a devious smile and rolled your body against him…and then licked along his spike. He shuddered. He was sure it was more visual than not, but it was as if he felt that drag of your tongue along his entire length.

Satisfied with his non-verbal response, you continued your dance. You fondled your mounds and then gave him that innocently devious look as you slowly untied the delicate strings of your top. You held the fabric against yourself a moment longer before tossing it aside with another sway of your hips. Megatron ran his glossa along his jagged denta. Your wide eyes were focused on him as you ran your hands over your now bared breasts. You bit your derma and pinched your nipples before turning your back to him with another sway of your hips.

You hooked your digits on the sides of your bikinis bottom and slowly slid them down, bending at the waist while keeping your legs straight. He roared out a moan at the sight of both your aft and cunt. He could see that your petals already glistened with your dew. Instead of stepping out of them completely, you turned back towards him and kicked your leg up--flinging the fabric at his chassis. He took the tiny excuse for a covering to his face plates, taking in the scent of your dew with closed optics.

When he opened them, you were staring at him with a satisfied smirk. You stood there with your hands clasped behind you, swaying with lust in your eyes. With a perked brow you silently turned away from him to straddle his length. This time, your dewy petals parted against him. You looked up at him over your shoulders once more.

“Now let’s see how fun a slip’n slide can be.”

Primus.

…

Once upon a time, the puny frames of the human race disgusted him. Megatron had considered them insects based off their size alone. Just as a human would not think to frag an ant, he too could not fathom the idea of interfacing with a human. And then came you. The incredible circumstances of your introduction managed to overcome the differences he once thought were irreconcilable. They soon became what attracted him to you. Soft skin against hard metals--it nearly felt taboo. Though that did not stop the natural manner in which his spark calls to you.

Just as your wanton moans called out for him as he slid your body along his spike at a punishing pace. You had told him to use you and he wasted no time in granting your desires. He held onto your slim waist while your shapely thighs straddled his spike with a squeeze. He dripped of your combined lust---your overloads released your warm honey, so much so that he could hear the squelching slide of your tight cunt against him. You made sure to gather what his spike had wept, each time he brought you up to his tip.

He watched you throw your head back as you came, one hand on the digits that held you while the other took to your mounds for added pleasure. It was a sinful sight he could not get enough of. He worked your little cunt against him for as long as you could take.

“Baby, I’m gonna come again.” Your chest heaved with your pleasured moans. He responded with a raspy chuckle as his in-vents quickened.

“Overload with me, my Spark.” His words were strained and vocalized through grit denta. He was close. “Can you do that for me?” Your wide eyes met his in the windows reflection.

“Put me on the tip of your spike.” You paused to let out a sultry, drawn-out moan as he slid you atop his biolights. “I wanna feel you when you cum.”

“You want me to breed that little cunt, don’t you?” Megatron gave another dark chuckle. “That excites you, doesn’t it sweetling? You wanna be bred by the giant alien robot…don’t you?” He placed you atop his tip to grind your tight heat against his weeping head. You bit your bottom derma and nodded.

“Yes!” You let out a sharp breathy gasp when he bounced your little frame against him. He could never fit inside you at full size…but it was fun to try. “Breed me, Big Boy.” Megatron let out a wickedly dark chuckle at your words.

“YES, my Spark.” His in-vents deepened as his fans were nearing their limit as you let out a sharp keening wail as you teetered on the precipice. He wouldn’t dare keep you waiting. “Overload for me sweetling…NOW!” The desperate filthy whimper you released with your overload was as music to his audials. The sight of you was like art—your head thrown back in ecstasy with his transfluid coating your ivory frame. It dripped off your nipples as your chest heaved attempting to catch your lost breath.

Megatron placed you on his chassis when your shared wave had ebbed. You laid on your stomach as his chassis heaved. When he looked down at you, your sly smile could not be contained. He narrowed his optics at you before you spoke.

“See…I told ya you’d have fun.”

Chapter Text

“Do you think it’d be ok if Screamer can train me?” You asked the question with such nonchalance that Megatron didn’t know if he should feel insulted or exalted.

He had no qualms about your wish to train in combat. You were fiercely independent and wanted to ensure that your presence would never serve as a liability. It was commendable and fitting--of course, he would be the one to find the single specimen out of seven billion that proved worthy of both a seat at his table and on his spike.

It was your choice of instructor that perplexed him.

Megatron was a gladiator of Kaon…the gladiator of Kaon, most would argue--and you wished to spar with his second? Did you not think him an adequate instructor? What skills did the seeker have that he did not? It made no sense to him. On the other servo, he did not want you to ever hesitate in voicing your desires to him. Most feared him, though you should never be counted amongst them. Perhaps your casual tone reflected the comfort you held in your life with him?

When he asked for your reasonings, your nonchalance continued. You shrugged your shoulders, with the excuse of not wanting to bother him. It made sense, he was indeed quite busy--but Megatron got the feeling that you were not being completely truthful. Instead of pressing further, he decided to allow it. He would ascertain the truth for himself---and so, he watched you.

Whether he was in the hab or not, he watched as you prepared for your meetings with his second. He watched as you gathered your long silver locks into a high ponytail that swayed nearly as much as your hips did when you walked. Your soft curls framed your face and accentuated your delicate neck. He saw the outfits you chose, supposedly for better movement. Your tops were miniscule in size--they barely covered your breasts while simultaneously pushing them together, creating a most delectable view of your cleavage. Said view was only improved with the help of the buttery fabric that comprised the garment. It was thin enough to clearly show when you caught a chill. The constant state in which your hardened buds protruded through the fabric was proof of the frigid temperatures aboard the Nemesis. Your bottom coverings were just as tantalizing--leggings, you had called them. They hugged your frame like a second skin--showing off the soft curves of your aft and the sinuous movements of your legs. As a whole, your attire and styling thereof left very little to the imagination.

Even so, that did not stop Megatron’s processor from conjuring up differing ways to take you. He dreamt of bending you over and ripping a hole in your leggings---revealing your wet heat before he thrusted into you with a punishing pace. He imagined pulling your ponytail and the breathy gasps you’d make in response. Or of wrapping his servo around your neck to find a quickened pulse with the arousal his dominant gestures inspire. He could picture himself slicing off your top, freeing your mounds to bounce as he rutted into you, creating a most lewd scene.

For decacycles, he watched as you came back to the hab or found him on the bridge after your sessions—tired, breathless and more often than not, bloodied. You had insisted on using as little protective gear as was necessary, claiming the need for more realistic training to properly learn your limits and strengths. Sound logic, though the application was harder for Megatron to deal with. He nearly stormed out to offline Starscream the first time he saw one of your optics framed with a dark contusion. Still, despite your small stature, Megatron knew he could do little to limit the course of your intended goal. In the end, he added two stipulations. One was that Starscream was to use his human holoform when sparring with you. The other was that you saw the medic for regular check-ups.

His conditions were markedly better for your safety, though they did nothing to ease his thoughts. The whole of it put him ill at ease in a way he was unused to—both Starscream as your trainer and the injuries inflicted upon your person. His processor’s wandering didn’t help either. The final line of his tolerance snapped when he received a message from you, suggesting your need for space during your sessions. He hadn’t even seen you train…why correct an error that hadn’t even occurred? It furthered his doubts until he couldn’t handle it a klik longer.

…

A short while later, at the training center…

“Why did you choose Starscream???” Megatron was about as subtle as the deadly peaks of his pauldrons. He found you stretching on a soft mat, alone, on the raised platform he had designated for your use. It had a hydraulic lift which he activated to bring you closer to optic level. 

“Well hello to you too!” Your attitude was not amusing to the unnamable feeling that powered his irritation.

“You would do well to answer me, girl.” Your brows furrowed with anger at his words, though he refused to acknowledge or adjust his soured tone.

“Girl?” You huffed at him. “I know you’re like dragon-old but I’m not a girl. I’m a woman and you would ‘do well’ to address me as such.”

Megatron may have crimson optics, though he does not always see in red as he did in that moment. No one speaks to him like that. Insolence required correction and most tended to avoid the risk. Yet there you stood, returning his irate stare with one of your own. He wanted to be angry, he really did---but you were making that task difficult. As you continued to glare at him with your hands fisted on your hips, his optics roamed your frame. He’d be lying if he said the sight of you didn’t make his spike twitch. The fire in your eyes. The sweat-glistened flush of your skin. And that damned skintight outfit. You were a vision. He ex-vented as his anger gave way to another emotion. Still, he would not relent, not completely at least.

“Is that so?” He narrowed his optics at you. “From whence comes this ridiculous behavior?” His grasping rebuttal had you flashing him an incredulous look.

“Seriously? You come in here, demanding an answer I’ve already given you and then you talk to me like I’m some vehicon---or Starscream!” Megatron expected you to continue your rant but instead you breathed an exasperated sigh and your body language pivoted along with it. Your wide optics searched his faceplates. “Baby…why are you so upset?” You walked closer to him as he stood astride the platform. “Are you jealous of Screamer???” Megatron turned away from you and your not-so-ridiculous, ridiculous question.

“Don’t be absurd.” He spoke the words but doubted himself as soon as he said them. Was he jealous?

“Honestly, I think it’s kinda cute.” He faced you once more, as it was his turn to give you an incredulous look. You shrugged. “What? It just means you care, right?” He focused his optics at your now smiling face.

“I am not jealous…I simply wished to know—” He raised his servo, knowing you were about to defend yourself. “I want to know the whole reason for your choice.” You were a prism of emotions as your expression turned with his words. You bit your bottom derma, and the look in your wide optics darkened.  Interesting.

It turns out, Starscream was chosen for two reasons. The first being that you had doubted Megatron’s ability to truly hit you during spars. It wasn’t unfounded--he would have pulled his punches. He prefers to pound into you, not on you. The second reason had him perking an optical ridge at you.

“I think I’d get too turned on.” Oh. Megatron regarded the blush of your visage, before your admission led to another revelation. Apparently, you’ve self-serviced to some of his old matches from the pits---more than a few times. You said the animalistic nature of his rage was attractive in a way that made your node pulse. He couldn’t help but preen with your words—the thought of you touching yourself to him until you dripped set off the primal urges in his old coding. It was as alluring as the pheromones your body released with your confession. Megatron hummed with an idea. He engaged his mass-displacement and approached you in his human holoform.

“Care for a friendly spar, my Spark?”

You had wasted no time after his suggestion. Megatron barely had enough time to appreciate your body in your lowered stance. He was eyeing your breasts as you promptly began your demonstration of your grappling skills. He couldn’t have been more impressed with your prowess. You used your weight against his own and leveraged your every move to your benefit, bringing him down the mat multiple times. It was quite becoming and more than a little distracting.

You consistently used his lingering stares against him when you switched sparring styles, connecting your fist to the side of his face or against his midsection. Were he an actual human, you might have hurt him. A fact you seemed to know as you circled him with a laugh. Your confidence sent a surge through him, making his spike ache. He knew you were fairing no better, the shift in your pheromones were apparent as was the sweet scent of your dew that perfumed the air with your every move.

He shifted his tactic to work defensively against you---allowing you the thrill of applying your training while he enjoyed the very new feeling of being handled. He could have overpowered you, easily, instead he relished in the feel of your strength against him. Admittedly, it was unlike any kind of foreplay he’s ever experienced. You clearly took note in his body’s reaction.

“Those gray sweatpants were a choice.” You stood across from him, licking your lips with a wicked smile—your wide optics were focused on his aching length. You were right--they were a choice, one that he made to counteract your choice of bottom coverings. You perked your brow as you continued to stare, adding a bite of your bottom derma to punctuate the desire that was apparent in your eyes. “Nice lights.” He looked down. More often than not, he has kept his spike as is no matter his form--this day was no exception. His crimson biolights pulsed under the tented fabric of his sweats. “Who knew a kiss with a fist would get you standing at attention.”

Your chest heaved with deep in-vents from your exertions when you spoke--his optics followed a bead of sweat as it trickled down your neck and between the valley of your mounds. He narrowed his optics at you. He silently pinged Soundwave and you chuckled when you heard the training center doors lock.

“How about I show you what else my fists can do?” You widened your optics as you spoke, feigning innocence as you glided across the mat towards him. “Or maybe my mouth…”

With a low growl, Megatron closed the distance between you. He quickly swept a leg under yours, laying you out on the mat. You were surprised and the darkening blush on your cheeks said you were more than a little turned on. He crept over your body, only pausing to rub his face against your clothed cunt. He in-vented, taking in your scent, before looking up at you.

“You smell divine my Light.” His voice was gravelly with want. “I want to drink of your lust. I want you to come undone around my glossa.” Your breath hitched. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You bit your bottom derma with a whimper as his ex-vents blew against your tight heat.

“Yes, please.” You spoke so sweetly--your voice small and tender. It was the direct opposite of your previous disposition when sparring--he relished in the dichotomy of the two sides of you as they both had a pressurizing effect on him.

Megatron continued to crawl up your body, until his face met yours. He lowered himself to kiss you, passionately—he couldn’t help the muffled moans that escaped him at the feel of your tongue dancing with his. When you singled out his tongue to suck on it---like a spike, he let out a nearly pained grunt. Megatron looked down at you with a darkened smile.

“My spark, I must apologize for my lack of manners.” You smiled at him despite your clear confusion at his words. He rearranged his position on the mat to kneeling perpendicular to your face. “I believe the phrase is ‘ladies first.’” Your eyes widened as he pulled his sweats down, releasing his fully pressurized spike. It hung heavily over your face.

“Well, aren’t you a gentleman?” Your smile widened in anticipation of his next move.

“Only for you, Sweetling.” He spoke in a whisper as he bent over your frame, bringing his body closer to you. You licked your lips, clearly ravenous. “Open wide, my Spark.”

You did as you were told and he sank his spike down into your mouth with another strained groan. He battled the urge to not hilt himself into your tight throat until you were ready. He was grateful for your skill, as you soon had him fucking your face with ease---but not without the occasional test of your reflexes. Those delicious spasms pulled him in deeper into the narrow channel of your throat. Your muffled moans encouraged his pace to quicken. You brought your hands above your head and he took the queue to restrain them. He looked into your watery optics…and you winked. Primus, you’d be the death of him—but not today. He pistoned his spike into your mouth until he overloaded with a fierce, guttural roar. The sight of you swallowing his transfluid was sinful.

When you sat up on the mat, he took a digit and wiped the side of your mouth--gathering his transfluid that you had missed. You took his digit into your mouth, licking it clean. Megatron hummed with the action, looking down at his spike that had already begun to repressurize. He narrowed his optics at you as he perked an optical ridge.

“I believe it is my turn now.” He looked to the equipment on the platform and guided you to the weight bench. He took his place behind you, splaying his hand on your back to guide you into bending over it. He hummed at the sight. “Yes, just like that.”

He was sure that you had expected him to pull your leggings down. He did no such thing. His earlier thoughts took hold of him as he knelt down with your cunt directly in front of him. He brought his hands up, running his fingers over your clothed folds, before taking the fabric in hand and ripping it. You gasped but held no anger as he promptly plunged his glossa into your tight heat—he grabbed your hips, bouncing your cunt against his faceplates. You loved when he fucked you with his glossa just as much as he did. Your overload was swift and powerful—as was the sharp, keening wails you sung as you found your pleasure. Any mech walking near the training center would have heard you. He sat behind you for a moment longer, taking in the sight of your dripping cunt—open and waiting for him to fill. The hole he ripped in your leggings made it all the more obscene.

He rose to a stand and rested his throbbing spike on the cleft of your aft, rocking his hips into you. You grew impatient and wriggled your hips, while pushing back into him. He took the hint and sheathed himself into your vice of a cunt in one powerful stroke that had you gasping. He pulled out, leaving only the tip inside you for a klik before he plunged himself inside you fully, his hips meeting yours. A deep resonant growl escaped him---you took him so well. He was marveling at the sight of his spike being buried into you when you began to lean into him, matching his movements with harder force--you wanted it hard and he would not disappoint.

“I now see what you mean, my Light.”

Megatron’s chest heaved as he pounded into your pussy with long, hard strokes. Your back arched into him—your taut muscles visible as your whimpered moans broke with the force of him entering you. Sweat beaded on the ivory expanse of your skin, and he couldn’t help but run his glossa on your back for a taste. The squelching sound of your combined fluids created a sinful symphony that made him impossibly harder. He let out a dark breathy chuckle.

“I can see how my instructing you could lead to…distractions.” He spoke through grit denta as your cunt fluttered tightly around his spike with another overload. Your face was pressed against the bench, muffling your drawn-out moans as your cunt milked him once more. When he was finally spent, he pulled out and away from you--taking in the sight of your cunt, dripping with his essence.

You were out of breath though you managed to wave your arm behind you with a thumbs up and a chuckle.

“I think I need to punch you more often.”

Chapter Text

Megatron was at the threshold of your bathroom as you eyed his preparatory provisions with a surprised smile. He stood with one arm resting on the doorframe and a smirk displayed on his faceplates. You turned to him with a perked brow, awaiting exposition.

“I thought we could try something…different.” His voice came out in a low purr, earning him a slow flutter of your wide optics. “My dear, it has come to my attention through observation and directly from your sweet intake, that you find my voice…appealing.” He tilted his frame forward into the room, narrowing his optics at you as a blush darkened your visage. You gave him a shy nod in the affirmative. 

“Correct me if I’m wrong…” He removed his arm from its place on the frame, making his approach to you. “…But I believe your exact words were, ‘you could make me come with your voice alone.’” You made a very audible gulp and he couldn’t help but let out a raspy chuckle.

“Yeah, that sounds like something I’d say.” Your voice trembled and his olfactory sensors didn’t miss the pheromones that emitted from your soft frame. He ex-vented with a deep rumble in his chassis as he pulled you in close to him, his servo splayed across your lower back. Your body yielded to him immediately. He hooked a digit under your jaw, bathing your face in crimson light. Your soft frame submitted further as he lowered his helm to whisper in your ear.

“I’d like to test that theory.” His voice was dark and ravenous, with a deep growl that seemed to send a shiver down your spine.

“I can’t wait.” With an innocent smile, you brought your hand up to his chassis, tracing his insignia with a light touch. His servo at your back roamed lower, kneading the soft flesh of your aft with a possessive touch.

Your chosen attire nearly pulled him from his objective. Seeing you in a dress had always left him wanting. How easy it would have been to reach behind your aft a tad lower—dipping his servo under the short hem to find your soft, lace-covered petals. He would run his digits along them before circling your little node as it pulsed. The look in your wide optics clearly reflected your feelings as mutual. As did the arch in your back that conveniently shortened the distance between his servo and your clothed cunt. Megatron ex-vented, pulling himself away from you with great effort.

“Then let us begin.” His goal was to relax you fully so that you might give in to the auralist within you. To that end, he had both a hot shower and a bubble bath ready with a couple of extra flourishes…a large glass of your favorite merlot and a spliff rolled with the aptly named sativa, Love Potion. You flashed him an impressed smile when he mentioned the name of the strain as you began to disrobe. As much as he would have enjoyed watching you, Megatron opted to give you the space to fully decompress. He closed the double doors to your bathroom as he exited, flashing you a sly smile. “Take your time, Sweetling.”

**********

A short while later…

Megatron’s plan was coming into fruition quite nicely. You had emerged from the bathroom with a relaxed flush on your cheeks and not a stitch of clothing on your frame. He couldn’t help but admire your delicate alien beauty as you moved to lay beside him on the berth. His crimson optics met your wide eyes as he laid on his side, propped on an elbow, while you laid on your back. Before he could get lost in your bare frame, he went over the ground rules for this experiment.

He could use his voice as he pleased, while you were allowed yes or no responses, exclusively. Additionally, neither of you were allowed to touch the other, though there was an exception for you. You could make use of your hands for grounding purposes only—he wanted you present and in the moment. That was it. He ex-vented with a predatory growl. With the rules out of the way, he leaned his helm closer to your ear.

Your unencumbered state was going to allow you to easily give in to the sultry purr of his voice. His every ex-vent ghosted your skin while his words haunted your audials with the sweet filth and adoration he knew you wanted to hear.

“Primus. Sweetling, you are truly a sight to behold, laid out like this for me. Absolutely beautiful.”

You blushed as he whispered his sweet nothings.

“One could find entire galaxies within the darkened pools of your wide optics.”

When he said that the palest silver of your hair rivals a full moons shine, you nearly looked away from him, if not for his tsk of correction.

“Keep those eyes on me, my Light.” He continued to contribute to your blush with words of how your soft skin against his metals will forever thrill him and how the curves of your body call out to him. He nearly huffed at the fact that his words of flattery, no matter how often they’re given, will fluster you. You were an easy mark, and he never missed. Your blushing and occasional hitched breath were greedily accepted, though it was far from you finding bliss. He panned his optics down your naked body, feeling your eyes on him as he did.

“My Spark, I cannot wait to touch you.” He told you how he wanted to wrap his dermas around your pert nipple. How he wanted to gently suck at the hardened bud before taking it between his sharp denta until you gasped from the pained pleasure—and you did, right next to him as he spoke the words. Your breath hitched when he said he wanted to trail his glossa between your mounds, so he could lave at your navel before going down…lower.

He made sure each word was drawn out with his husky, growled-out hums when he spoke of your cunt.

“What I wouldn’t give to taste you, Dearest. To run my flattened glossa across your glistening folds, before affording those delicate little petals the same attention I would give the plump pout of your mouth…” He licked his dermas as he brought his intake even closer to your ears. “…I’d kiss your dew-covered lips, tasting your essence, before I ran my glossa between them for a deeper kiss into your tight little heat.” You gasped with his words and Megatron couldn’t help but smirk.

“Did you know that you are the sweetest thing I have ever tasted?” Your penchant for praise is well known, and completely his to exploit. “I’m going to make you drip with my voice and then wreck your perfect little cunt with my spike. Would you like that, Princess?” You nodded, looking nearly pained to do so. It would seem you wished to remain silent. What a good girl, always going the extra mile—you gulped between your heated breaths when he told you as much.

He kept an optic on your body and how it reacted to his words. How your nipples hardened when he spoke of devouring your cunt.

“I love to taste you in the mornings, so that I may keep the sweet taste of your dew on my glossa when we part.”

You whimpered when he told you how much he loves when you ride his faceplates, no matter his size.

“Look at you…” He spoke with a pleased, one-note chuckle. “…I think you can feel what I’m saying. Can’t you, Darling?” He narrowed his optics at you, with a deep ex-vent.

“Can you feel it when I tell you I want to taste your sweet nectar as I fuck your tight little pussy on my glossa?” You nodded as your optics clearly expressed your rising lust…he could see your pupils dilate.

“How about when I tell you how I want to feel your silky walls flutter around me as you find your bliss? Can you feel that, Sweetling?” Your chest heaved as you licked your plump dermas.

When he spoke of using his digits on you, your fisted servos grasped the sheets beneath you like a lifeline…you do love a bit of finger foreplay, and you are not alone in that sentiment.

“Primus, I love working you open with my digits. Did you know I nearly overloaded the first time I felt the tight grasp of your heat? You were so deliciously tight, I was worried you wouldn’t be able to take my spike.” He walked you through memory lane with a provocative purr lacing his husky voice.

“Sweetling, I can still picture myself burying a single digit in your cunt…rubbing your honey on your swollen node with my thumb as it pulsed for me. You wanted more, remember?”

You were allowed to answer him, but still opted out of it, biting your bottom derma instead. Your words were not necessary, not when your body was giving it away. He could smell the scent of your lust gathering. He looked to your visage to find your wide optics were shut tight. You were getting close.

He needed a front row seat when your little heat grasps at nothing. He moved from his position beside you as he spoke next.

“You begged me for more, but I made you wait…just like tonight.”

He instructed you to open your legs for him, while keeping your eyes closed. You continued to worry at your lip, but did as you were told. When he called you a good girl, you once again whimpered with his praise. He couldn’t help the hiss of surprise that escaped him when he saw your petals glisten against the crimson glow of his optics. You couldn’t see him between your legs, but the knowledge of him watching was more than enough to affect you.

“You are perfect, my Light.” The sight and scent of you had Megatron’s intake lubricating with want. He would most definitely taste you later. But first things first—he had to know if talking about a hard digit frag would prove as effective as the real thing. His voice darkened with a hungry growl.

“Do you know how bad I want to fuck your little heat with my digits? I want your essence dripping down my servo.” He narrowed his optics at your heat as your slick was nearing the beginnings of a delicious drip.

“I think you want to drip for me now…don’t you, Sweetling? Your pussy is giving you away, my Light.”

Your cunt was a vision, such delicate petals and a tiny entrance and yet it could accommodate the sweet abuse of his frame in the many ways he takes you. Impaled on his spike. Writhing on his glossa. And squelching with his digits.

“Spread your legs wider for me…now, present yourself to me, Sweetling.” You furrowed your brows for a klik before they relaxed with your understanding of his command. You licked your lips as you brought your knees up to your chest, bringing your hands up to hold them in place. Megatron’s ex-vents deepened as his words broke between husky groans.

“Primus. I want to fuck you…hard. I want you to gasp each time I bury my digit inside you. I want to hear your soft skin slapping against my servo.” You whimpered, letting go of your legs to grip the sheets, while his panels felt close to failing. “Can you hear it my Light? I bet you can.” You nodded as your breaths deepened.

Megatron couldn’t help but to lean in closer to your cunt, taking in your scent.

“I think right about now, you’d ask for more. I think you’re wet enough for another digit. You’d like that wouldn’t you Sweetspark?” He optics focused on the smile that flashed across your dermas.

“And now, you want it harder, don’t you?” Your brows furrowed as you gave in to his words, a ragged moan escaping your lips.

“Yes, my Light. Keep going…just like that.” He could see your cunt pulsing. He growled his approval as you mewled.

“Primus, I bet your cunt is like a vice right now, isn’t it? You need my spike don’t you. You’re going to overload for me. I need to wreck that pretty little cunt. To fill you up with my transfluid. Don’t you want to milk my spike, Love?”

You were desperate for a release, and Megatron wanted to see you come undone. His own ex-vents followed the quick cadence of your ragged breaths.

“Yes, darling. Just like that. Envision it in your dirty little mind. You can do it.” He crawled over your frame—you could feel the berth move, but you kept your optics closed. “Very good my Love. Keep going. Just like that.” His fans kicked on with his efforts at finding your bliss.

“Yes…picture it. Feel it. My digits pounding into you…shaking your body with the force of my thrusts.” His heated ex-vents ghosted your face while your in-vents deepened. The grip you had on the sheets whitened your knuckles and your brows furrowed further as you neared your precipice. He smiled with a perked optical ridge when he saw your back bow off the berth. He needed to time his next words with care.

“Open your optics, my Light.” The stars in the dark pools of your eyes were as constellations, guiding him to your release. He stared into the stary depths of your being a moment longer...until they aligned.

“Now…overload.” You let go for him, beautifully. His crimson optics caught the wide-eyed look of surprise in your eyes as you moaned through the uncharted bliss you found with his vocalizations. You looked between your bodies as you trembled. He was used to your sharp, keening wails but this was…different. He felt his spike ache against his plating as you savored the sensation of your peak with a deep, sultry, drawn-out moan.

When the waves of your ecstasy receded, Megatron pulled your small frame on to his chassis. You laid on your stomach with your face flushed against his spark chamber. You casually kicked your legs behind you, as the servo he had at the small of your back drew gentle circles on your skin. He was sure you felt the deepened thrum of his spark with your proximity. You propped yourself on your elbows, to look at him, as if you knew his thoughts. He raised an optical ridge at you in question. Instead of a love-struck look, you had a satisfied smirk on your face. You shrugged your shoulders and scrunched your estril.

“I knew you could do it.”

Chapter Text

“Is this going to hurt?” You looked to Megatron with worry in your optics, as you held a connection cable in your hands. You eyed it with suspicion, and he couldn’t help the gravelly chuckle that escaped him at seeing your fear.

“Shockwave assured me that with the necessary preparations…it shouldn’t.” He narrowed his optics at you with a smirk, knowing his words did nothing to quell your reserves.

“Shouldn’t???” You grimaced at him, making him laugh that much louder.

“Indeed. He knows what the consequences are if it does.” He perked an optical ridge at you. “One might say he’s wagered his spark…on your pleasure. Though he would find the notion most illogical.” You rolled your optics at his attempt at humor.

“Ha ha.” Your shoulders slumped with a sigh. “It’s kinda embarrassing that he basically makes all of our sex toys.” You weren’t completely wrong—the scientist has worked on more than a few side projects for his leader. Megatron huffed.

“My Dear, our sex toys have a multitude of applications.” You perked a brow at him. “That connection, for instance. We now have access to the human brain with his cortical psychic patch modifications.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Ok. But what about your mod dick?” You had a satisfied grin as he made a face at your crass words.

“That mod dick, as you so lovingly refer to, has led the way for frame modifications with greater control.”  You gave a thoughtful hum with his words.

“So, you’re saying he helps us fuck for science?” Another satisfied grin found its way across your face as he rolled his optics at you.

“I would never use those words, but…yes. The efforts of our session today will assist Shockwave in optimizing the cortical psychic patch modifications—with a secondary trial objective, should the first prove successful…as I’m sure it will.” He perked an optical ridge at you, awaiting your response. You shrugged with a sigh.

“Well, since it’s for a good cause…let’s plug me in.”

All the apprehension from earlier was forgotten the moment you connected to Megatron’s processor. As Shockwave had estimated, the application was indeed painless with the proper preparations—though it was jarring for you, to say the least. You soon gathered your bearings for Shockwave’s secondary experiment. The positive results of the cortical psychic patch would allow you to utilize Megatron’s holomatter generator as your own. Who better to make your double…than yourself?

**********************

A short while later…

“Fucking A—this is a trip.” Your words were punctuated with a long drawn-out moan as you rode Megatron’s faceplates…and his spike. “It’s like…I can feel you in layers.” You rolled your hips. “I can feel your glossa and your spike.” You threw your head back as he curled his glossa to caress that sweet spot inside you as his servos guided the little frame of your double on his spike.

The connection allows me to feel you in three ways. Mind, body, and spark. A grunt escaped him as your double began to ride the head of his spike. Her aft bounced, pulling her cunt off of him completely before taking his tip into her heat for a tight reentry. You both groaned with the feeling.

It’s so weird that we don’t have to talk. Your double took him in whole, gyrating her hips against his with a delicious grind. You did exceedingly well for your first time using a holomatter generator. It was a near-perfect replica. Megatron hummed when he realized what needed adjustment.

Vocalization is unnecessary with a connection such as this, Sweetling. Though the real you is tighter than what your mind created. You looked down at him with wide optics and a blush on your already flushed cheeks. He perked an optical ridge at your humility. He has praised your cunt for as long as he’s had the privilege to fuck it. As a matter of fact, there has not been a single encounter—be it with his intake, digits, or spike—where he hasn’t hailed your sacred space as anything but complete perfection.

You wound me with your disbelief, my Light. I suppose more assurance is required. Understand my goddess, your cunt is flawless. From your delicate petals that I crave to kiss, to your responsive little node that swells as it pulses with your desire. Your little valve is the tightest I’ve ever had…I shall never want for another. To drink of your dew and feel your silky walls is to glimpse into the utopia of the afterlife. Delectable, divine…and completely mine. His intake executed the actions as his mind spoke them. He ran his flattened glossa across your folds, lapping at your petals with care. Unable to resist a deeper taste, he slid his glossa between your lips, before giving proper attention to your clit. He flicked, licked, and circled your little bundle of nerves until your in-vents deepened. A filthy little whimper fell from your lips when he wrapped his dermas around your node with a gentle suction. You tossed your head back with an arch of your back—the sight of your breasts from his place between your thighs called to his servos for a touch. He rolled your hardened buds between his digits as he brought his glossa back to your tight entrance. With a smile, you placed your hands atop his servos…encouraging his every action.

Who knew my Big Boy would be this sweet? Megatron perked his optical ridge at the pet name, his chassis rumbled with a playful growl. He rolled your nipples with greater pressure as he curled his glossa inside you, making you gasp with widened optics. Looking down at him, you scrunched your estril at his teasing, before narrowing your optics with a sly smile.

How’s this, Master? Returning his jab, the cunt of your double clenched down on his spike with your unspoken words, gripping him tighter than before. His optics went wide as a groan escaped him, while you laughed with a sultry lilt.

Close enough. It would seem a cunt like yours could never truly be duplicated. He perked an optical ridge at your look of disbelief. Your modesty shall meet it’s end one day…mark my words, Sweetling.

You bit your bottom derma with a shy smile. Megatron narrowed his optics as he held your stare, gently guiding both you and your double to lean forward, with your cunts hovering over his intake and his spike. The position was going to allow him to vigorously fuck both your entrances. His movements were synchronized—his hips began to piston into the now tighter heat of your double, as his glossa mirrored his movements into your dripping original. Your chest heaved as you arched your back,  with your double mimicking your actions behind you.

Megatron.

The double layered moan sang out in his processor as he felt your climbing pleasure. He groaned at the feel of your heats clenching down on him, grateful for the connection as his frame’s reaction occupied his vox’s output with rhythmic grunts and quickened in-vents.

That’s it my Light. Let go. Open yourself on my glossa. I want to taste your overload. A ravenous growl escaped him as he increased his pace, thrusting harder into your heats. Megatron could feel the coil of your frame tightening like it was his own—it was an accelerant to his efforts. He brought a servo to the side of your hips and that of your double’s, before reaching further behind them simultaneously. He kneaded your soft flesh before lightly circling the entrance of your afts with the smallest of his digits. The reaction was instantaneous. Both you and your double released wide-eyed gasps as he hummed in approval. You like that more than you care to admit, my Spark. Megatron gave you no chance to respond as he pressed down against the tight ring of muscles—sharp, keening wails erupted from you and your double.

You looked down at him, narrowing your optics with a playful smile. Silently, you and your double reached behind yourselves, taking his servos in your dainty hands. You perked your optical ridge at him as you both guided his thumb digits into your mouths. His motions had slowed as he watched you lick and suck at it like a spike. With a bite of your bottom derma, you guided his servo down to your heat, directing his glistening thumbs into circling your little nodes.

I like that more. Now, be a good boy…and make me come. He is not immune to the pleasures of receiving accolades from a beautiful femme. And now, with the aid of the connection, you knew just how much he craved your approval. Megatron’s chassis rumbled as your walls clenched around him.

Your wish, is my command. Obeying his directive, Megatron resumed his efforts on your entrances as he circled your clits. His optics rolled back as your cunts tightly grasped at his appendages in a clear display of your preference.

Yes…just like that. Your words echoed with a provocative purr in his processor as his spike and glossa glided over the erogenous zones of your cunts. You hummed a drawn-out moan as his fans kicked up. Baby. You brought a servo to your mounds, pinching a hardened bud between your fingers. So good. His spark thrummed excitedly as his hips slapped against your double’s. Warmth overcame his being as he felt your charging pleasure alongside his own. His spike ached for release. You’re perfect. His throaty groan reverberated up his glossa, earning him a pleased moan—broken with the way your frames began to bounce against his thrusts. Oh fuck—I’m going to come. You looked down at him as his optics widened and his helm shook with the smallest of hurried nods.

Yes, Sweetling. Give me your lust. His words were spoken as a plea in your minds. You looked down at him with a smile.

Keep going…just like that. Your optics went wide when his thumb digits began to vibrate on your nodes. YES!!!! DON’T STOP!!! Megatron moaned against your cunt, there was no way in slag he was going to stop now. He increased the intensity of the vibrations, pushing you closer to the edge. Your charge was near to bursting, it pushed his own overload just as far. MEGATRON! Oh, god, YES!!! The sweet dew of your release fell upon his glossa as he filled your double with long hard bursts of his transfluid. He overfilled her cunt as he lapped at the nectar of your pleasure.  

He drank of your lust as you rode his intake through your peak until you collapsed on the berth beside him with a satisfied sigh. You were catching your breath when Megatron passed you a recovery drink. You perked your optical ridge at him in question.

“My dear, did I fail to mention that the success of the secondary objective would lead to tertiary experiments?” Your optics went wide in surprise as Megatron chuckled. “We are far from finished.”

Chapter Text

“Well, this is…unexpected.” You raised an optical ridge at him as you ran your hand over the connection plugged into the nape of your neck. “I thought for sure you were gonna push for double penetration…my ass totally thanks you for your mercy.” You giggled with your crass words, while Megatron rolled his optics…though he couldn’t help but to crack a smile as he felt your elation.

“Yes, my benevolence knows no bounds, my Light.” He narrowed his optics at you, with a darkened hum. “But don’t push it.” A wide-eyed look of surprise colored your face with his jest—he couldn’t help the throaty chuckle that escaped him at seeing your jaw drop.

Megatron has found his pleasure within your soft frame in a multitude of ways. Splitting your little cunt on his spike. You taking him to the hilt with your talented intake. Having those dainty little servos work his length to bursting. Between your soft thighs as the head of his spike teases your node. He’s even titty fucked you—which he was skeptical of at first given the crude appellation. And while he does enjoy your reactions, he cannot say he holds an interest in your aft’s entrance outside of teasing it with his digits…and occasionally his glossa. As you have said, his endowment rearranges your guts—he sees no need for further harm, nor could he take interest in something that you’re clearly apprehensive to receive.

“Then I’d better be a good girl and do as I’m told, huh?” You looked up at him, biting your bottom derma as a blush colored your cheeks.

Megatron’s processor greedily recalled a plethora of images…you on your knees, on top of him, on all fours, pressed against a wall, and being pounded into the berth. You are definitely a very good girl. Your eyes went wide as you saw his memories of your soft frame and felt the effect you have on him. Your blush deepened as you sweetly giggled.

Your honeyed laugh gave way to a surprised yelp when his double gathered you in his arms…bridal style. You wrapped your arms around his neck as best you could—both of him hummed in approval. His double leaned in closer, running his glossa along your bottom derma, before taking it between his sharp denta—you hissed as your field pulsed with desire. When his double released your lip, you pulled him back in for a passionate kiss—purring with giddy delight as your tongue danced with his double’s glossa. The feel of you through the connection with his double had Megatron reaching for his spike. He stroked his length as he watched and felt his double take your breath away with his kiss as the two of you stood atop his chassis.

******************************

A short while earlier…

You awoke with your back pressed against a mass-displaced sized Megatron. A closed optic sigh accompanied your smile as he softly raked his claws through your hair. Your brows furrowed as your situational awareness kicked in. You felt at the surface you laid upon before opening your eyes for confirmation—you were laying on his full-sized chassis with his double. You rolled onto your stomach with a laugh, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at him. He perked an optical ridge at you as his double ran his claws along your back.

“Baby, you’re better than an Ambien…how did I not wake up to all of this?” You eyed him as he chuckled, the huskiness of his tone made you blush.

“Were you not present for your multiple overloads, my Light?” Your blush deepened. “The connection seemed to exhaust your usual reserves—or so says the scientist.” He perked a brow as your optics widened.

“Shockwave was in here?!?!?! I’m naked!!!” Your alarm amused him, his laugh boomed below you—jostling you and his double on his chassis.

“Fear not, Little Warrior…your modesty was maintained.” He pointed to his audials. Your shoulders visibly relaxed as you ex-vented a relieved sigh. “He did inquire as to the continuance of our trials, and sent over an upgraded patch…” You laughed at his noncommittal inquiry as his double revealed the new patch in his palm.

“Well, it looks like you’re ready…wait, is that cordless?” You huffed, impressed with the new tech. “Bluetoothin’ my brain, huh? That’s pretty rad.” Megatron hummed.

“I’ll be sure to annotate the feedback for Shockwave. I requested the modification to accommodate the next trial.” He retracted his panels, revealing his spike—you looked back over your shoulder, biting your bottom derma with a smile. Megatron perked his optical ridge at you as the realization set in. “What can I say, my Spark…you inspire me.” You pouted your dermas at him.

“I knew you liked slip’n sliding more than you let on.” You motioned towards his double. “What’s the little guy for?” Megatron huffed. That little guy is nearly twice your height.

“Sweetling, he is going to fuck you against my spike…with the mod on.” He chuckled as your optics went wide.

“Oh.” Your field pulsed with anticipatory determination. “Well, let’s plug me back in.” Megatron’s optics darkened as a growl rumbled through him.

“Yes, my Love…I fully intend to.”

******************************

Megatron laid on the berth on his back, with his helm resting atop his servo. His smile darkened as his ex-vents deepened as he watched his double prepare you. The desire he felt at the sight of you was evident, both in connection and sight, as he stroked his length with a growing urgency. His double drizzled oil onto your fair skin, kneading your soft flesh until it shined. Of course, he paid special attention to certain areas, such as the buds of your breasts. He rolled them to peaks with his digits, enjoying how your body leaned into his touch.

I think I need a little more…right here. Dainty hands guided the servo of his double…to your cunt. A drawled-out moan fell from your lips as he circled your pulsing node. Yes, Baby—just like that. Your rising pleasure was most apparent—Megatron could smell your honey. Your pheromones deliciously assaulted his olfactory sensors…and that of his double’s. His reaction to your scent made your breath hitch. A ravenous growl escaped him both as his double got down on his knees before you.

Primus, your scent is divine. Megatron’s double brought his face to your cunt, rubbing his faceplates against your sacred space until his metals glistened with your honeyed slick. When he pulled away, he made a show of running his glossa along his dermas. Both he and his double groaned at the sweet taste of your nectar. I need to taste you. Come, Sweetling. His double took your hand in his, leading you to the underside of his true form’s spike. Megatron hummed as he released his length, letting it bob against his chassis. Holding your hips with one servo, his double splayed the other on your back, guiding you down into a bend. With a smirk on his faceplates, Megatron flexed, making his spike bounce against the valley of your mounds. Both of him hissed with the contact as you giggled.

Ok. I see where this is going. You looked over your shoulder to his double, who had knelt once more—with your cunt in his face. With a bite of your bottom derma, your wide eyes darkened their gaze at his true form. Get to it, Big Boy. Megatron’s growled response ceased at the taste of you.

Yours is a taste he will never tire of. The double drank of your dew like a mech starved as Megatron’s intake lubricated with a jealous desire. You whimpered when his double curved his glossa inside you. Likewise, Megatron couldn’t help but to groan at the feel of your walls constricting around his double’s glossa while also taking in the sight and feel of your oiled body against his spike. You pressed your breasts against him and ran your slicked hands over his length. When a bead of his lust gathered at his tip, you ran your servo over it, gathering as much as you could before licking it off—keeping optical contact when you did. Your pleased moan at the carnal delight of his taste—that he felt through you—pressurized him even further.

Oh fuck, I’m gonna come. Megatron huffed out a darkened growl at your choice to announce the obvious. He could feel your heat flutter on his double’s glossa.

Overload for me, I can’t fuck you until you do. His double grabbed your aft with both servos, curling his glossa inside you as far as he could. And princess…I really want to fuck you. You whimpered. Be a good girl for me. Your moans increased as you wrapped your arms around his full-size length. Yes, just like that. His double brought a digit to your node, increasing your pleasure. Yes, darling…such a good girl. Your in-vents deepened as you neared your release. Look at me, pet. You looked up at him with pleading optics. You were so close. Sweetling, you are perfect. He narrowed his optics as you approached your precipice. Yes…now…OVERLOAD.

******************************

Two more of your glorious overloads later…

Megatron laid on the berth, propped up on an elbow—the composure of his previous stance had vanished. He moaned unabashedly as his double penetrated your heat with deep strokes. Your body, slicked with oil and his lust, pressed against his spike deliciously as his double abused your pussy. Using the mod had increased his pleasure exponentially. The connection to the pleasure you felt and the visual additive of watching himself take you against his spike was nearly too much. Megatron wasn’t ready for this portion of the experiment to end just yet. He wanted to indulge in the profane sight for as long as your little cunt could handle. His double pulled out of your heat, having you straddle his length instead as he brought a vibrating digit to your clit. Your body responded immediately.

Baby! I’m gonna come again! You rolled your hips against his spike…he could feel the heat of your dew as your petals painted his length with your overload.

Yes, Sweetling!! Primus, you’re a sight. You rode out your overload, with a long drawn-out seductive chuckle. When you spoke next you were out of breath but far from done.

Back at you, handsome. You know…I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than your heated faceplates and darkened optics. You seemed to get chills with your next thought. And when you grit those sharp denta…fuck—all I can think about is you marking me as yours. You brought your hand up to the silver outline of his denta at the crook of your neck—it’s the only scar that adorns your frame these days.

You are truly extraordinary…and his. Giving yourself to him in such a manner—inspires feelings he has not yet found the ability to describe. Your optics went wide as the mixture of his emotions overcame your being. Primal desire, pride, submission, and undying admiration crashed into you, but it was the tinge of fear—the risk of losing you that is a constant within him—that inspired a tear to fall down your cheek. You smiled at him.

I’m not going anywhere. Your optics darkened, pulling him back to the present. Now take me like you mean it. A deep growl escaped him.

As you wish. He held his spike at the base, as his double pressed you against it—spearing into your heat with a single hard stroke that took your breath away.

Yes! Just like that! You reached behind you, gliding your servo on his doubles faceplates. You arched your back, pushing into his thrusts as your breasts further pressed against his length. Pull my hair! Use me! Primus, you were going to make him overload with your words alone—though your breasts being squeezed around his length was a definite assist. Your wanton moans echoed in the hab as he pistoned into your cunt. Megatron’s chassis rumbled, he wanted more. Your previous slip’n slide finale flashed across his processor…and your mind. Fuck, yes. BREED ME!!!

Megatron’s fans kicked up as he pulled you away from his double, to balance your body against the tip of his full-sized length. The grind of your tiny cunt against his tip was sinful. He watched as his pre coated your heat as you gyrated your node against him—already nearing your precipice. His in-vents quickened as he climbed to his peak alongside you.

Look at me Sweetling. Megatron wanted to lose himself in the sweet abyss of your wide optics. You looked to his double, who had taken himself—or more accurately, his mod—in servo to stroke himself in time with your gyrations, before focusing fully on him. That’s it, my Light.

You rolled your hips against his tip as you brought a hand down, collecting his prefluid once more, before bringing it to your cunt to tease your little clit. Megatron’s moaned stuttered at the sight. You were on the edge, and he was fairing no better.

Oh Baby, I’m gonna come again. Fuck. You looked to him with pleading optics. Come with me.

As you command…my queen. His words tipped you into ecstasy and he dutifully followed, coating more than just your entrance—his transfluid colored your fair skin, making you keen.

*******************************

A short while later….

Megatron chuckled as he held you in his cupped servos. You had immediately—and quite comedically—fallen limp after riding out your overload. Taking you to the wash room, he hummed as he rinsed your frame under his faucet. You sighed with a smile as he handled you with care. When a loud, drawn-out yawn escaped you, he chuckled.

“I’m assuming you’ll require another reprieve before the next trial?” He didn’t need the connection to translate the surprise in your widened optics. His laughter boomed throughout the hab as your tired state persisted, even through your laughing.

“Like I said, you’re better than Ambien, Baby.”