#Digital Sound Processor

[caraudioexpertaustralia0]

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[techcomengineering]

Elevating Audio Solutions with IP-Based PA Systems

In the realm of security technology, IP-based systems have seamlessly integrated themselves into various domains, with public addressing (PA) and intercom systems emerging as the latest sectors to embrace the advantages of IP technology. This transition brings forth a multitude of benefits, including effortless integration, straightforward deployment, and self-diagnostic capabilities. Among the…

[robolvrr]

f-r-e-a-k !‿⁠✷｡✧

lost light members react to human porn (and develop some preferences of their own.)

ft. skids! megatron! rodimus! swerve! ultra magnus!

nsfw under the cut.

rodimus prime - top-five ranked

when he first heard actual, genuine human content had reached aboard his ship, he had quickly formed a half-assed meeting to announce that he, of course, being captain and all should review with ultra magnus.. and perhaps rewind too, before dispersing it out to the crew.

of course when ultra magnus expressed his surprise at this new leaf turned, eager to scour through intergalactic protocol he simply let one word out the other audial and made some grave, grammatical errors to distract the mech and let the captain do his own decision making.

he spends a lot of time nitpicking. he doesn't like movies as much so he reserves those to swerve nor does he care too much about books.

a functioning computer however....

he's bored. and curious. two demons that never dwell well together in the same room.

clearing browser history? never heard of that!

good thing the previous owner has lots of bookmarks, because he finds it infinitely easier to sift through links there than carefully type.

"porn...hub? what's that? must be some kinda uh.. uhhh... uh."

cue the fan whirring. he's hunched over and slack jawed, staring at the frankly color-clashing archive and almost pushing himself away when the cursor hovers over a video - and the humans in it start moving.

clicked the first video with a bold "#1 ranked". he really shouldn't. he really, really should just toss this tempting contraband out the nearest garbage disposal.

"unhh! harder! haaarder! ♡"

he's focused hard on the spike - cock, he learns, or dick, humans got lots of funny terms - ruts rough into you, forcing you to melt forward and squeak through sheets.

the loud, exaggerated moans make him pitifully decide otherwise. imagine him, all weak in the knees, sliding down to sit as he watches transfixed.

flesh on flesh hitting sounds a lot better when it's this and not fighting.

sooner or later, he's huffing into his servo, jacking off his spike and squeezing the tip so rough he's almost jealous seeing you bouncing away. you'd be so, so fragging soft. he can imagine squeezing your limbs and twisting you around to his liking.

overloads fast. he's almost ashamed enough to be embarrassed.

now? can't reach his climaxes unless there's some raunchy, wet-coated squeals in his memory banks. doesn't bother searching up anything because he doesn't have the patience to cultivate. you just happen to be at the top so he gladly sticks watching your holes get sticky any cycle.

skids - playboy bunny

"oh for prime's sake, chromedome don't make me feel like i'm trading for somethin' illegal."

won a "mystery stash" from a late night gamble. of course, not all of rodimus's finds stayed quiet.

he isn't sure why it's such a big deal. the cardboard box which spills open easily under a digit's care isn't filled with weaponry or bombs.

it's almost funny, this giant picking up a magazine in a pinch, helm tilted and keeping it an arm's distance away like the pages might bite.

he looks at the front cover for a long, long time.

his processor isn't catching up. then he squints. gets reaaaaal close.

there's you! all dolled up, as the humans would say. except you're really not, because half of your squishy aft is out, and your servos are covering up your chest but aren't doing a good job.

neither is the bright, blue bow christened at your pelvic area, where he realizes with a jolt is lacking any modesty panels of any kind.

flips a page. oh, it's you again. curved over a lounge. cheekily spreading yourself with a... gathering of lace twisted around your frame.

another one. you got something round in your mouth. he looks carefully at your lips.

and then he's flipping through all of it, and digging into the box and oh, he's found a jackpot because it's all you.

now he understands why it's got the markered "collectors items" on the side. he doesn't question too much when he spits lubricant down onto his spike. dedicated some of that cotton candy gossamer all over your february edition of playboy in approval.

megatron - classic erotica

a true mech of literature. now, unlike many of the lost light, he's had his run in with humanity before. not that he particularly got or wanted to enjoy their culture back then.

though when he did find his way back onto a possible path of redemption, he did indulge once upon a time.

at his spark, he's a poet. a linguist. enjoyer of golden age, art and craftsmanship.

earthen literature has its.. moments. he reads novellas and lost to the history manuscripts, plays, all of which have almost all been uploaded to more convenient means as upkeep for the paper is a pain.

however, he has found one book. a funny looking book, with a funny looking cover.

he observes, rigidly, the scandalous embrace of what he assumed to be the characters, how clothing lacked in areas it shouldn't and skin was almost.. glistening. "seven nights of passion." a chuff left his dermas.

ah, to pit with it. why not?

megatron finds himself slowly involved with the chapters despite the comedy of its advertisement. the writer, you, no doubt under a penname, push development shockingly far.. for a human.

and the intimacy? interfacing? so descriptive. while he has not seen what he is reviewing, he can imagine it. images of sweaty bodies, grinding and yearning and crying.

cybertronians have no reason or function to. the thought of a human, pushed to the brink overloaded with stimulation is... stimulating.

it is a shame when it comes to an end but he might in his free-time peruse for more. leaves his plating warm and intake dry.

the authors note suggests that your inspiration drives from personal experience.

his ... array fizzles at that. fascinating.

swerve - r-rated movie night

"wowza. that's hh. haha. woah! they all do that.. ?"

first movie he flipped onto the projector was supposed to be an "action and feel-good film with hints of romance, angst and sci-fi elements."

not even halfway through, you, the imaginary captain of the imaginary "roman's ravager" have your uniform shimmied down to your ankles, mouth mashing against your supposed rival, who everyone has been heckling for the past forty-five minutes.

some of the mechs cheer, other grumble and argue to skip, others squirm and grimace. swerve watched you push the other down, head tilting back as the camera zooms to your face.

"it's just acting, ya' degenerates, stop acting like protoforms!"

it isn't until he feels a servo smack upside his helm that he starts fumbling for the remote. too much noise but now he's getting a comm from mags asking about what the rackets for so! fast forward he goes.

at 1x.

while the chaos starts to settle, he peeks between digits. catches glimpses of your open mouth. the goosebumps down your chest. how you shake at the insinuation that someone is between your legs, servicing.

slag. when's the last time he's even played with his valve?

movie night was a hit regardless of the commotion. he has to clean up after, which thankfully didn't result in any expelled energon or skid-marks.

that also means he's alone. alone, in his bar. all by himself, staring at the rest of the discs with your pictures on the front, credits humming in the background.

it'll be good for the economy. (all of it is pirated.)

maybe it's for the best. because now, he's realizing you really are a great actor, in lots of different genres, able to adapt and really grab his attention.

it's not as if his spark pulses seeing you in costumes, or using that soft voice you do in all your roles when you make a point.

not like he's riding his digits and crunching into a fist when you're running on the beach, sand dappled and leaving little to imagination.

ends up on his back, charged up and shaking. hurts to speak, to move or to dab up the puddle of transfluid, laughing deliriously when his panels are even too much effort to close.

ultra magnus - audio praise

"you're doing such a good job. you're perfect. you know that, right? yes you do, so good for me."

when he first heard you, he damn near crushes the auditory device and full-blown shudders in the confines of his hab. he's sputtering, optics wide and there's a million reasons he should report this to rodimus and question just what he's given him.

"to help ya uh... research? take the edge off pal."

half-contemplates storming back to the bridge himself if it weren't for your sugar-coated mumbles still coming through the unpaused recording.

you'd think he was dealing with a ticking blast with how he warily handles the device, gruffly spitting out curses that he'd otherwise never allow in crew vicinity.

"i want you to reward yourself. you earned it, honey. can you do that for me? here, listen."

to his horror - and crumbling interest - a slick cacophony of sound rattles in his helm. there's panting, a shift of material that he assumes is tangled around you and frag, he's able to think up you and a thousand faces.

what's worse? is he's hypnotized. you don't demand. you coo to him, just loud enough to let him know you'd be broken too. if he let himself let down that wall, just for the twenty minutes you sing in his audials, he'll know it's done with you just as weak.

"g—gooood job ahhhh!" that does it. ultra magnus groans, shutting off his optics entirely. his large servo feels up along his frame as you suggest.

"i wish you were here. hah.. mmn! could see me. see me fucking myself to you. let you kiss me. you deserve it, sweetie. deserve me on you."

magnus and the sobbed growl to his motors reminds him just how lonely he's felt. always monitoring. always stressed. hearing the spit collect at your throat as your commands grow hoarse makes you feel real.

would you... would you kiss him? would you let him pick you up, rest you flat on his servo and have his glossa lap up your want?

he towers over nearly all. having a partner so much smaller, tinier than even an minibot, shouldn't run up a charge but it does.

he overloads when he's sticking digits near the casing of his spark, ignoring the spurts of pre sizzling down his thighs.

"w-was that as fun.. for you as it was for me?"

dazedly falls onto his berth. this isn't leaving his dermas unless he's had a drink.

a/n : a little haha funny idea i had. there's just something so funny thinking of these giant old robots realizing just how much porn is out there.

[fixyourwritinghabits]

I also want to point out a critically missing skill among students these days is the ability to save a document with an identifiable name in a retrievable location.

This sounds like it should be a non-issue, but this is a skill that is not being taught that is really screwing students over down the road. You need to keep digital copies off your own documents on a device you own. Overreliance on Autosave in general is keeping people from being able to use word processors in the very basic ways.

I frequently hear from students who have lost their own work because they did not know where it was saved and could not retrieve it again. You need to keep copies of your own work no matter what you're doing.

[enigmatist17]

I was right in the path of the snowstorm that hit us this week (and another coming this weekend yaaaay), and thought of my boys :)

This is part of the Mecha Pilot AU by @keferon :)

My other AU fics here

---

"RATTY, WHAT IS ALL THIS STUFF?"

Deadlock didn't yell, at least not that Ratchet had ever heard, and he sure as hell never sounded uncertain.

"What're you goin' on about?" The mechanic certainly didn't have some pep in his step as he hurried to his Cybertronian, a wrench gripped in one hand as he headed to the personal bay he'd set up for Deadlock. The door was open, revealing a heavy snowfall that Ratchet had forgotten about, the mech staring at the weather with a glare.

"What is it?!" His plating rattled in slight discomfort as Ratchet raised an optic ridge (no, eyebrow? Eh, he'll ask later) at him, clearly unconcerned by the strange weather. "The sky hasn't done this before."

"That would be because it hasn't gotten cold enough 'til now." The wrench in his hand gets shoved into his toolbelt, and despite the lack of his jacket, Ratchet steps out into the snow with an amused smirk. "See? Safe an' sound." True to his words, Ratchet didn't appear in any pain, aside from a shiver that wracked his frame as the white flakes started to coat him. "It's called snow."

"Why is there snow? It has been cold for days now, your bitching about it has told me that enough." Slowly, the mech reached out to Ratchet, his digit twitching when the first few flakes landed on it, but no warnings popped up in his HUD.

"We didn't have the right temperature for the water vapor in the air to condense, but we do now. I forgot we were even gettin' a storm, which means getting home is going to be a bitch and a half."

"You drive in this stuff?" The Cybertronian asked, letting the curiosity running through his processor bleed through more than he usually would have done. "Is it not dangerous?"

"Well yea, but we've adapted over the years." The human responded as he moved to come in from the snow, Deadlock using his hand as a cover. "Sit here, let me go get my jacket and other boots on."

"Alright." Deadlock watched Ratchet head back inside his shop floor before returning his optics to the snowy landscape in front of him. He had seen something resembling this snow a few times, but it had been through quick pit stops at planets to scavenge shards of energon that left him no time to actually examine the frozen precipitation. It's cold against his servo when Deadlock scoops up a generous helping of the snow, compacting into a vague ball shape when he closes his servo into a fist, remaining solid even after he grabs it with his other servo.

"We call that a snowball." Ratchet had also put on a hat and some servo coverings, crouching to scoop up his own snow. "I'd rather you not throw that one at me, but pick and target and launch."

"Is this snow a weapon?" Now that got his attention, the assassin picked out a random tree and launched the snowball as hard as he could, all of the collected snow on the branches falling off as it connected with a loud thud.

"Not as effective ones, that's for sure." Ratchet snorted, nailing a nearby parked car right in the windshield. "Nah, it's for fun usually, though you're gonna kill me with how hard you threw yours."

"I'd never hurt you Ratty." Deadlock purred, offering his servo with a grin. "I want to see more."

"C'mon, the lake might be frozen over." Ratchet hopped up onto the offered limb, bracing himself against the wind as Deadlock began to venture out into the snowy forest, pausing every so often to look at the snow-covered trees and rocks in interest. "So Cybertron doesn't have snow?"

"Not that I was ever aware of? What we consider organic on Cybertron isn't the same definition for you."

"Fair enough." Ratchet lapsed into silence as Deadlock headed to the lake he had crash-landed next to what felt like a lifetime ago, the mech clearly surprised by the sight when they reached the clearing. "Well?"

"..." Deadlock carefully set his human down before approaching the water's edge, the surface now solid to the touch. "This is...cool."

"Yes it is." Ratchet snorted as he joined the mech, testing the ice with one foot. "Hm, might be strong enough..."

"For what?" The mechanic looked up with an amused look before taking a step forward, Deadlock watching in slight awe as he began to walk on water like he was strolling on normal ground.

"You can't always do this, but sometimes we get lucky. It is pretty cool." He grinned, the alien reaching over to steady him with a digit when Ratchet wobbled slightly. "Thanks."

"As much as I kinda don't like your planet all this much, I could come to like this snow and ice." The assassin purred, using his digit to lazily pull Ratchet around on the ice in a random pattern.

"Not the biggest fan, but I do enjoy the occasional snow day myself." Ratchet shrugged as he did a poor man's version of ice skating, only upright do to his tight hold on Deadlock's digit. "Glad you're enjoying it."

"Only because I'm with you." The look on Ratchet's face made the corny line more than worth it, Deadlock chuckling as he continued pulling the human around on the ice. "How long will it be like this?"

"I don't know, probably a few days. Best enjoy it while we've got it."

"Works for me." Sure, Ratchet can't feel much of his body by the time Deadlock decides he's done enjoying the view, but it wasn't all bad when he's carefully placed inside the mech's warm interior for the trek back. They end up dozing off in Ratchet's workshop when neither of them feels like dealing with what would be a nasty drive to Ratchet's home, the falling snow filtering through the moonlight lulling them both to sleep.

[muletia]

d-16 x human!reader pocket spouse au

this crumb was commissioned by very epic @savvymantis. thank you so much for commissioning me <3 <3

cw: none, pure fluff <3

The mechanical sound of fast-approaching footsteps pulls you away from scrolling through your miniature datapad, custom-made for former inhabitants of planet Earth. You don’t have to squint or get up from your open “room” mounted on your spouse’s recharge station to know who is coming. You’ve gone through this same scenario hundreds of times, and it has taken on a nearly domestic feeling �� as if you are waiting for your husband to return from work. It has become a routine, though you still feel excitement seeing him after those few hours apart. Relief too, though that is correlated with occupational risk.

Soon, you see him emerge from the hallway, your spouse running far ahead of the other miners, whom you can’t even see yet. His gray faceplate seems to brighten when he sees you, the metal shifting like putty into joy — so clearly contagious you can’t help but wave at him gleefully, datapad forgotten. It is fun, and it can entertain you, but it can’t compete with the company of your spouse. Your D-16.

“Hi, Dee!” you call out as soon as he is close enough.

“Hi, [Name],” he replies, not one to leave you hanging. A large servo slides under the platform you call a room, inviting you aboard. And just like hundreds of times before, you accept the invitation, now safely wrapped in warm, careful digits.

“The usual place?” you ask, more for reassurance than out of curiosity.

“You’re really asking?” and his wide, warm smile melts your heart.

With his passenger in hand, he can’t risk running — too cautious to risk hurting you — but he keeps up a fast pace, glancing back over his shoulder again and again. He only focuses all his attention on you when he makes sure the swarm of miners doesn’t catch up, and that no one is following you two to your little hiding spot in the old warehouse.

“Orion spend the whole shift talking about hitting the city,” he sighs, stopping in front of broken mechanical doors, now completely dependent on the will and strength of whoever opens them, and slides his digits into the gap between the bottom of the doors and the floor. Then, with a single servo, he lifts them easily. “Of course, I tried to hammer it into that empty helm of his that it’s a terrible idea. That knowing him, he’ll zone out and be late for his shift, but he wouldn’t back down.” Dee steps inside and, again with one servo, pulls the door shut behind him, unintentionally feeding you nothing short of awe for his strength.

Maybe it shouldn’t surprise you anymore, or fascinate you after so many months living among iron giants, but you can’t help noticing that Dee is a bit stronger than the other miners. Faster, more agile, the best in his sector. You can’t not admire him, can’t help but be enamored with who he is.

“Sometimes I just can’t deal with him,” he continues. “He’s going to get himself into trouble someday, I feel it! And guess who’ll be stuck saving his aft then, hah. Not me! Because I am definitely done risking my neck for bots with microchips instead of processors. No way. Not anymore.”

One quick glance from those extraordinary yellow optics, and you know he is talking about you. You are his reason.

Warmth spreads through your chest, and your heart involuntarily speeds up.

You wonder if Dee even realizes how sweet — yet dangerous to your heart — his wordplay can be.

Dee sits down on the floor, back against the wall, and places you on his knee, still holding his servo as close to you as possible. Digits wrap gently around your back, guarding you, making sure you won’t fall. Though you suspect the soft strokes across your back have more to do with his own pleasure than your safety; the softness of the human race still a source of fascination for Cybertronians. Especially miners, who still treat humans like a rare treasure. So you give him more of yourself and your softness, snuggling closer to the digits.

“And how is your day?” he asks with a warm, gentle voice. Any irritation from before can only be found with a microscope, and even then, probably not. But when your answer takes longer than usual, and the silence takes on an awkward tone, Dee adds worriedly, “[Name]?”

“Sorry. It’s just… I can’t stop thinking about how strong you are.”

A moment of silence. A second or two. Then the air is pierced by the soft hum of cooling fans.

Oh? He likes the sound of that, does he?

He blinks a few times, the digit on your back pausing, but when he manages to suppress the first wave of embarrassment, he asks:

“Where… where does that thought come from?”

“From the fact that you just opened those doors with one hand.”

Dee doesn’t seem to buy your explanation.

“Oh please, there’s nothing special about that. Bots with cogs are way stronger. I can’t even compare.”

“But I’m talking about you. About my strong spouse.”

Once again, you hear the whir of cooling fans in the ocean of awkward silence, but your attention focuses on his crumbling self-esteem. You want to mend it. Not fix it, because you know that won’t happen overnight, but show him that he deserves to hear something nice once in a while. That he deserves everything good.

“[Name], come on. If you want me to get you something from Iacon, just say the word.”

“You think I’d send my beautiful spouse into the city? And live in fear that other bots would turn their heads for such a handsome mech?”

Ah, now the humming moves front and center. Dee mulls your words over with an open intake, analyzing, searching for irony or an attempt to butter him up, but when his faceplate flushes a deep shade of blue, you know he believes you are sincere.

“Dee, you do know you’re pretty, right?” you continue, not giving him a break. “To me, the most beautiful in all of Iacon. Or you know what? All of Cybertron.”

D-16 covers his faceplate with a servo, clumsily trying to hide the blush. He turns his helm slightly to the side, avoiding eye contact, but your keen eyes track his every movement.

“D-don’t” A second passes. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you mean it.”

“I do mean it, sweetspark.”

“S-sweetspark?!” The second servo joins the first. Oh, how you wish you could gently pull them away and see just how flustered he really is. “Primus, who… who taught you that?”

“Elita. But that’s not the point. Dee, could you look at me, please?”

He doesn’t grant your request immediately, and you don’t push, wanting to give him as much time as he needs. Until finally, through a tiny gap between the digits, a single optic peeks at you.

“I still don’t see my handsome mech…”

“Now you’re just messing with me…”

“Never, Dee. I would never. I’m being one hundred percent sincere. Not as your pocket spouse trying to butter you up or get something out of it. I want you to know how incredible and beautiful you are. I couldn’t imagine a better spouse. And I definitely couldn’t be matched with a better one!”

This time, his engines are running at full power. And you can feel it too, as your warm seat has now turned into a hot heating pad.

This time, Dee slowly pulls away the tightly pressed servos, revealing a faceplate completely soaked in blue. For a moment, he manages to maintain eye contact, but embarrassment wins out and his optics wander all around the storage room, just to avoid looking at you.

Adorable. He is all adorable, but you decide to keep that compliment to yourself, unsure how he’d react.

“Okay… thank you,” he says at last, returning to stroking your back. The blush still floods his faceplate, but this time Dee manages to look at you, inviting you two to exchange smiles.

And how can you pass on another chance to fluster him up?

“Have I told you yet that you have the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen?”

His servo flies back to his faceplate, but after the prolonged wail of your name, you know the compliment has reached his spark.

[jweekgoji]

can u write some more yandere d-16 pls 😭🙏

D-16/Reader.

tw: yandere themes, power dynamic, size difference/size kink, soft yandere!d-16, cogless!d-16, cogged!reader, idol/fan relationship, jealousy/possessiveness, 18+ content. word count: ~720. a/n: FUCK russia for that huge fucking explosion in my city when I was writing alien-robots sex.

Normal D-16 is a total head over heels for his idol. Yandere D-16 lacks any sense of dignity when it comes to even the slightest chance of meeting you.

You can tell he's inexperienced, by the way you briefly trace the tips of your fingers over the side of his waist, the smaller bot on top of you shivering in pleasure, biting his lip.

His bright orange optics focused on the slightest of your action as you guided your servo higher, to his chassis. Was it really happening? Or is he dreaming? Maybe it was all Orion's fault, and he just hit his head hard enough during this race, so now he's imagining things...

“gonna overload now?” you purr softly, tracing your index finger over the edge of the hole on his chassis, just where his t-cog supposed to be.

“i—i am not,” he tries to protest, which sounds so weak that he's not even sure if he even believes himself.

he can't just...overload from a bit of foreplay, can he? it would be too embarrassing, you're his hero, his idol— he doesn't want to look pathetic in front of you, now that he's got such a chance, it would be foolish to lose it all now.

you push another finger deeper, teasing the cold edges of his hole, he can't help but thrust forward, his optics fluttering closed. you hear a soft ‘mmph—’, before he hides his face against the crook of your neck.

how cruel of you to tease the hell out of the no-cog? being with your own cog all your life, you had no idea that these areas could be...quiet sensitive for the cogless. you wonder if you can make him overload just from that.

you can feel his servos awkwardly moving towards your waist, tightening slightly. are you fine with it? with his servos right here? or should he put them somewhere else? his processor running with millions of thoughts, but when you gently guide him to continue moving his hips, he groans.

“i don't want to...not now, please,” he mutters softly against your neck, his breath heavy, as he struggles to control himself and not just melt right next to you.

you tilt your head, raising an optic bridge at that. you can only think about how he feels right now, his spike buried deep inside you, and your soft, warm walls around him just feel too good, too perfect for someone who spent cycles fragging his own servo in dreams of this moment before.

for you, it was barely something. he's short, only reaching your waist, at best. you can easily cover the whole length of his spike with your servo if you want, but there was some kind of sick pleasure in it, watching him squirm in his place, keeping his hips still so he wouldn't just overload in you here and there.

D-16 is so sensitive, it is almost amusing how he is considered one of the strongest and toughest among the other miners. you think, is it because of lack of intimacy? or was it just you, driving him to nearly short circuit? it's so unfair, but can he really hate it now, when it's exactly what he dreams of every single day?

he wants it to be perfect, so he could make you feel good, so you would beg him to take you, moaning his name just so everyone would finally understand that you're his. he's so sick and tired of being jealous, watching you smile and pose next to your fans, giving them your attention and affection when it was him who was supposed to have all of that? you're his, his, his, he's going to try so hard to claim you now, so maybe then everyone would just—

but when you press your digits harder, lightly scratching the metal surface of the empty t-cog slot in his chassis, he tenses up, arching his back in pleasure. the muffled, shaky moan escapes his lips, as he hides his face further against your neck, now trying to catch his own breath.

wait. did he just overload inside you?

[quixotical-lymbo]

Helloooo! I've never requested before... so this is my first time. (Is this how I request? I'm still clueless with Tumblr)

If you can! Could you do TFO Sentinel Prime x Advisor Cybertronian Reader? 😽

Pairing: Sentinel Prime x gn!advisor!Reader Rating: SFW-ish Summary: Working to keep the city of Iacon running as efficiently as possible proves to be difficult when the bot in charge has a tendency to throw a wrench in your plans. Warnings/Tags: cybertronian reader, implied toxic dynamics, brief mention of vomiting, one-sided attraction, or is it?, and corruption. Word Count: 1400+ words 

Digits danced along the bright screen detailing the reports of data collected from the guards overseeing the mines. Your optics brightened as you processed the numbers and spotted a few increases. 

Shifting your weight from pede to pede, your lower derma was bitten as you narrowed in on the section of the report where the increase was evident. 

This meant another promotion was on the horizon, perhaps you should schedule a meeting with-

The datapad in your servos disappeared and when you snapped your gaze to glare at the thief, the heat of your glare was extinguished into an optic ridge lifting as your helm craned to look up at the face of your superior who came into view. 

"___." Hearing your destination roll off his glossa felt like a group of scraplets biting at your circuits. Eating away at you until you're nothing left but an empty husk of everything wrong with you. 

"...Sentinel," You greeted with a nod. Your optics locked onto the datapad before switching between the device and his face. Your arm lifted briefly as your digits curled slightly toward the pad. "May I…?" 

"Oh…this thing?" Sentinel rose the datapad above his helm, knowing your stature couldn't reach such heights. "You want this…why?" 

"It is mine." 

"And?" 

"I need it, sir." 

"Is that so?" Sentinel observed the way your dermas pursed and digits flexed stiffly. The mech felt a warm fuzzy feeling erupt in his chassis in seeing you squirm within his presence. The tip of his glossa swiped over his bottom derma, "Y'know, I've been meaning to ask you a few things and I think this is the perfect time to do so!" 

"But I-" 

"-what do you do in your spare time? Me, I like to…"

You squeezed your optics shut and blocked out the sound from your audials. Your fears grew as Sentinel turned on his heel and walked away with your datapad in servo. 

You really needed it back to be able to continue your work. Without the sensitive information on your personal datapad, you wouldn't be able to sit still for the rest of the chord unless you did something productive for the day.

"...___? You there?" 

You snapped out of your stupor and stared dumbly as Sentinel rose his own optic ridge. The corner of his intake curved upward as he shook the datapad in his servo, "Come on, I gotta show you something." 

Despite the alarm bells going off in your processor, you obeyed his silent order and followed him to his office. The large room made you visibly shrink into yourself as memories from long ago flashed in your helm.

This was the place that was a stark reminder of where you learned...that for the first time. 

 

"Where are we going, ma'am?" 

Airachnid didn't turn to look at you, not that she needed to, and simply said, "You'll see." 

You looked around the unfamiliar area. Weird, thin blade-like things sprouted from the ground and were abundant in the mountainous terrain the two of you were trekking on. 

You were halted by a servo placed in front of your chassis and when you glanced up to see Airachnid's digit pointing in a direction you followed it to see-

Your intake twisted in knots.

Sentinel, Quintessons, ships, so many ships. 

Your internal fans kicked in as your frame began heating up. You felt dizzy, nauseous even, and you somehow found the strength to lock your blurry optics to the larger femme.

The corners of her dermas stretched upward. 

You turned your helm and vomited. 

You flinched when a heavy servo landed on your shoulder pad.

"Ah!" You stumbled forward as Sentinel pushed you along toward the large windows overlooking the city. You stood straight when the servo on your shoulder lowered to the area just above your aft. 

A shudder dragged its cold digit up your back strut. The false Prime's laugh brought forth a second. 

"It's been sometime since you became my assistant, huh?" Sentinel began. "I remember the first time I met you! Heh, can't believe you couldn't look at me in the optic because of how nervous you were…but after you warmed up to me, you were quite the yapper." 

You acknowledged his words with a nod. The digits rubbing against your back paused as the expression on Sentinel's face plate darkened. 

"I missed that." 

You broke your neutral expression to look at him. 

"You, being chatty and all, now you're….boring," Sentinel patted your aft and snickered when you jumped. He turned away from you and walked over to his desk, plopping on the chair he threw the datapad on his desk and slightly shifted his legs to leave them comfortably spread. 

"What changed?" As if feigning ignorance, the mech had the nerve to appear sad. 

You stalled for a moment, optics shifting and digits digging into the palm of your servos, "I…um, got busy. It's no easy feat helping someone like you–"

Sentinel's optics narrowed and you quickly sputtered out, "-someone as famous, uh, fabulous, and..um…and well-loved run a city!" 

"Ok, ok, I get it, really." Sentinel Prime waved a servo. "You're…'busy.'" 

"Yes, sir." 

"Hm." Sentinel's optics racked over your frame. "You work a lot so you must be tired, c'mere and get off your pedes for a while." 

"Oh, I shouldn't." 

"I don't remember asking, ___." Sentinel moved one servo to rest on his lap. "Sit." 

You inched over to the desk and made your way around it, but your wrist was caught and before you knew it, you stumbled back and fell onto the mech's lap. You immediately moved to get off but an arm snaked around your midsection plating and caged you against a broad chassis. The heat radiating off of the mech behind you caused you to stiffen. 

"There you go, sweetspark." Sentinel cooed. "Let's continue where we left off, 'kay?"

"Now, what's so important it's managed to steal your attention away from me?" 

"...there's been an increase in miner productivity," You mumbled. 

"...that's what's got you in a tizzy?" Sentinel mulled over what you said before peeking over at the datapad disregarded at the corner of his desk. A noise left him as he nodded, "Oh, right…the method you mentioned in the last meeting we had…it worked?" 

"Yes," You slowly crept out of your shell. "Allowing the miners to work without tight restrictions, more breaks, and even adding more recreational areas for their enjoyment has yielded good results." 

You paused to check Sentinel's face plate. He was leaning back against the chair, the side of his helm resting against two digits as a soft smile etched onto his dermas. When you hesitated, Sentinel gestured for you to continue as his other servo rested on your hip. 

"...and I-" You continued after gaining the green-light and divulged into your plan. Sometimes, you would catch the blue and gold mech glancing between your animated servos and the lower half of your face plate. Despite this, you felt…safe. Safe enough to ramble on and on about your plans and future aspirations for the city. 

"...and I've been thinking, why not try to use some of my free time to look through our database to find information on where the matrix is-" 

The servo on your hip dug into your plating causing you to hiss. Sentinel heard and removed his servo from you, "Ah, sorry." 

He didn't sound like he meant it. 

"Matrix?" Sentinel inquired with a loop-sided grin. "You what to try and…find it?" 

"Well, maybe, I don't know the logistics, but if I can find a lead maybe you won't have to continue the deal with-" 

"-shh, shh, shh," Sentinel cupped the side of your face and leaned down. The distance between you two caused your optics to grow in size, you don't even know if you're breathing anymore. 

"Let's talk about something other than work…hey, what kind of drink do you like? Wait, wait,  better yet, let me get us some. I'll buy the whole bar out." 

You couldn't find the words to deny his request and watched as Sentinel pressed a digit to the side of his helm to comm some bot to bark his request. 

 

…this'll be a long evening. 

😼 - I do not give permission for anyone to translate, copy, republish, or plagiarize any of my written works. I provide no permission for any of my literary works to be used in artificial intelligence. banners by @kodaswrld !!

[redisthenewblue]

𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐘—𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐒𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐃 𝐱 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄! 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

—

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟑: 𝐏𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

[Name] spun around before jumping into Idia's arms, their eyes shining with joy.  

“Thank you! Thank you!” [Name] showered his face with sweet kisses, each touch sending delightful shivers through Idia, his yellow eyes widening in admiration. He melted under their affection, his blue fire hair flickering with a fervor that mirrored the passion in his heart.  

“It’s nothing… anything for you,” Idia whispered, his cheeks turning a bright red as he was enveloped by his fiancé. He felt so utterly, hopelessly happy that [Name] had planned a picnic date in the park. While the thought of being outdoors usually triggered a wave of anxiety, for [Name]'s radiant happiness, he would face any discomfort, any sunbeam, any stray butterfly.  

[Name] finally released him from their long embrace. “I’ll be right back! I just need to change!”  

Idia watched [Name] glide across the floor in their royal blue pajamas, a soft sigh escaping his lips. His eyes followed their every movement, glowing with unwavering affection.  

“Sevens,” he clutched his chest, suddenly aware of the rapid beat of his heart and the clamminess of his hands. “Oh, [Name], my beloved… I love them. More than all the data streams in the world.”  

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-  

Inside the greenhouse, the air was thick and sweet, a heavy floral scent that would typically send Idia into sensory overload, his internal processors buzzing with agitation. But with [Name] by his side, their presence a warm anchor in the fragrant chaos, even this felt… manageable.  

Sunlight streamed through the glass, creating a steamy, vibrant world that contrasted sharply with his cool, controlled room. Yet his yellow gaze, usually flitting nervously, remained fixed on [Name]'s radiant form. He settled onto the edge of the woven picnic blanket they had cheerfully laid out, his long legs bent awkwardly, his blue fire hair casting playful shadows on the vibrant foliage. He wasn’t particularly fond of this… plant sanctuary, but being in the same oxygen-rich space as [Name] transformed even the most verdant hellscape into paradise.  

“[Name],” Idia began, his voice a low murmur, infused with a tenderness he typically reserved for his most prized gaming consoles. “This is… quite a collection. You seem very comfortable here.” His yellow eyes followed the gentle curve of [Name]'s smile as they gestured at a particularly lush fern, its fronds unfurling like intricate green lace.  

[Name] smiled, their face bright against the backdrop of blossoms, a sight that made Idia’s nonexistent heart ache with longing as they arranged a colorful spread of sandwiches and fruit. “It’s nice to be surrounded by life, don’t you think? A change from the usual digital glow.” They looked genuinely happy, and Idia found himself not merely appreciating their enthusiasm, but cherishing it, wanting to bottle it and keep it safe forever. “Besides,” they added, their tone softening as their eyes met his, “I wanted to do something… different for us.”  

Idia’s gaze flickered to [Name], a hint of adoration softening his usually sharp features before he returned to observing the fascinating patterns on a nearby leaf, simply because it had caught [Name]'s attention moments before. “Different is… certainly accurate. You seem to know a lot about all of this.” He watched, captivated, as [Name] gently adjusted a delicate flower, their touch so tender it made his chest ache with longing he couldn’t quite express.

 [Name] giggled, their warmth a pleasant contrast to the humid air, a sound that resonated deep within Idia, chasing away the usual static of his thoughts. They offered him a small sandwich. “It was a big part of my life growing up. My mother had an agriculture business. We cultivated all sorts of things.”  

Idia accepted the sandwich, his fingers brushing against [Name]'s in a brief, electrifying contact that sent a jolt of pure joy through him. He took a bite, pondering their words with utmost seriousness. “Agriculture? So, less about optimizing network architecture and more about… soil composition?” He wasn’t being sarcastic; he was genuinely trying to understand this world that was so clearly important to his beloved.  

“Exactly!” [Name]'s eyes sparkled, a radiant light that could outshine any monitor, making Idia’s breath catch in his throat. “Though there’s a surprising amount of strategy and problem-solving involved, just in a different domain. We had to manage resources, predict yields, deal with pests… it was a whole system.”  

A comfortable silence enveloped them, punctuated by the gentle rustling of leaves and the soft buzz of insects, a silence that felt less like awkwardness and more like a shared tranquility in [Name]'s presence. [Name] didn’t push for constant chatter, seeming to instinctively understand Idia’s more introspective nature, their consideration deepening his affection. They simply enjoyed the shared space, and for Idia, being near [Name] was a symphony for his soul.  

After a while, [Name] pointed to a cluster of delicate white flowers hanging like tiny bells. “These are lily of the valley. They smell beautiful, but they’re actually quite toxic.” Idia’s yellow gaze followed theirs, a spark of genuine interest igniting in his eyes, not due to the poison, but because it was something that had captured [Name]'s attention. “Poisonous, huh? Interesting. So something so seemingly delicate can have such a… potent effect.” For a moment, his usual guardedness seemed to melt away, replaced by a quiet fascination with anything that held [Name]'s interest.  

They continued their quiet picnic, [Name] occasionally pointing out unique plants or explaining particular adaptations, their voice a sweet melody to Idia’s ears, while he offered thoughtful observations in return, his attempts to connect with [Name]'s passions clumsy yet heartfelt. It wasn’t a boisterous conversation, but a comfortable exchange, a quiet exploration of a world so different from his own, made beautiful simply by [Name]'s presence.  

[Name] gestured to a vibrant purple flower with intricate patterns. “This is a passionflower. Look at the complexity of its structure. It’s almost like natural engineering.”  

Idia leaned in, his eyes wide with fascination, not just at the flower, but at the way [Name]'s face lit up with enthusiasm. “You’re right. The arrangement of those filaments… it must be a master at attracting pollinators.” He found himself genuinely intrigued by the intricate design, a concept he hadn’t considered before, all because it was part of [Name]'s world.  

“[Name],” he said, his voice a bit more engaged than before, the hair at the crown of his head turning slightly pink. “Your mother’s business… what exactly did it entail?” He felt a genuine curiosity about this unexpected piece of [Name]'s past, a world so different from the digital landscapes he usually inhabited. The idea of anything being important to [Name] instantly made it important to him.  

“You mentioned your mother's agriculture business involved greenhouses and cultivation. Did you… do a lot of… outdoorsy things?”  

[Name]'s eyes lit up, a wide, genuine smile spreading across their face, a smile that Idia treasured more than any rare loot drop. “Oh, absolutely! While I learned a lot about the controlled environments of the greenhouses, the real fun was outside. Our property backed onto these huge, sprawling meadows. In the spring, they were carpeted with wildflowers – blues, yellows, purples, all mixed together. It was breathtaking.”  

They paused, their (e/c) gaze distant for a moment, as if reliving a cherished memory, a memory Idia longed to experience. “Evangeline, my personal maid, bless her patient soul, used to have a fit whenever I’d disappear into them. She’d always fret about me getting my dresses dirty or encountering some sort of… meadow creature.” [Name] chuckled, a sound that made Idia’s chest swell with affection. “But I loved it. Just running through the tall grass, feeling the wind in my hair… it was so freeing.” Idia listened, a faint smile playing on his lips, his eyes fixed on [Name]'s animated face.  

He could picture it, a vibrant splash of color against a backdrop of green, [Name]'s figure a joyful silhouette against the horizon. Their hair flowing with the wind while their eyes sparkled with that same beautiful light that always captivated him. It was a stark contrast to the controlled, often predictable environments he preferred, yet through [Name]'s vivid description, it held an undeniable allure.  

“And the waterfalls!” [Name] exclaimed, their voice gaining an even more enthusiastic lilt, a sound that was music to Idia’s ears. “There were these small waterfalls cascading down the rocks at the edge of our property, feeding into a little stream. On hot days, nothing beat wading into the cool water, feeling the spray on your face. Sometimes, if the water level was just right, I’d even try to jump behind the falls. Evangeline would practically have a heart attack!”  

They laughed, a bright, unrestrained sound that echoed softly in the tranquil garden, a sound Idia wished he could record and listen to on repeat. “She’d chase after me, her skirts hiked up, yelling about the potential for slippery rocks and hidden dangers. I’m sure she aged ten years every summer because of my waterfall adventures.”  

Idia found himself entranced, everything in the background fading away, leaving only [Name].  

He’d seen [Name] laugh before, but witnessing them speak so fondly, with the brightest smile he’d ever seen, filled him with an overwhelming tenderness. “So, a bit of a… daredevil then?” he asked, amusement lacing his tone, his yellow eyes sparkling with adoration.  

[Name] grinned mischievously, a look that Idia found utterly endearing. “Maybe a little. Life felt so much bigger and more exciting when I was exploring those meadows and splashing in those waterfalls. It was a different kind of learning than what happened in the greenhouses, but just as important, I think. It taught me about the raw, untamed beauty of the world.” They paused, their gaze softening, their eyes meeting Idia’s, and in that moment, he felt an inexplicable connection. “Though, looking back, I do feel a little bad for poor Evangeline. I put her through the wringer.”

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Later, as they were leisurely finishing a thermos of iced tea, a gentle breeze swept through the greenhouse, showering them with delicate pink petals. One of these petals landed softly in Idia’s blue fire hair, creating a vibrant contrast against his flickering flames. He remained completely unaware of the floral addition, his yellow eyes focused intently on [Name].

Reaching out slowly, [Name] gently plucked the petal from his hair, their fingers moving almost reverently. When their eyes met, an unhurried connection blossomed between them, filled with a quiet intimacy and an acceptance that transcended their differences. For a moment longer than usual, Idia’s typically darting yellow eyes held a steady gaze, revealing a hint of softness and vulnerability, a reflection of his boundless love for [Name]. 

“[Name],” he said softly, his voice barely rising above the gentle hum of the ventilation, afraid to disrupt their shared moment. “This… this place… it’s… not as bad as I thought it would be.” A faint blush dusted his pale cheeks, a testament to the profound effect [Name] had on him. “And… the food you brought… it’s decent.” A warm smile graced [Name]'s lips, a smile that Idia cherished more than any digital masterpiece. “Decent from you is high praise, Idia.”

A small, almost shy smile flickered across Idia’s lips, a rare and precious sight. “Don’t get any ideas. But yeah… it’s… okay.” He hesitated, glancing down at his hands before meeting their gaze again, his blue fire hair dimming slightly as he gathered his courage. “Spending time with you… it’s… okay too.” 

As they began to pack their things, their movements slow and deliberate, a comfortable silence enveloped them, filled with unspoken affection on Idia’s part. “Maybe… sometime… we could do something else… that’s not all… plant-y?” Idia suggested hesitantly, his yellow gaze fixed on the picnic basket as he carefully folded the blanket, wanting to prolong their time together. 

[Name]'s smile softened, their eyes sparkling with warmth as they looked at him. “I’d like that very much, Idia. What did you have in mind?” A small, genuine smile finally broke through Idia’s usually guarded expression, brimming with hope and adoration. “Maybe that new movie everyone’s talking about? Or just… chilling at my place?”

As they stepped out of the fragrant warmth of the greenhouse, the outside air felt crisp in comparison. Idia maintained a comfortable distance, but there was a subtle shift in his demeanor, a newfound ease that hadn’t been there before, all thanks to [Name]'s gentle influence. For Idia, this quiet afternoon amidst blooming chaos was a significant step, a precious moment of connection in their unique, unfolding story.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” [Name] replied, their voice filled with tenderness that made Idia’s blue hair flicker with renewed warmth.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the manicured lawns of the park as [Name] and Idia strolled along a paved path. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves in the trees, carrying the sounds of children laughing and birds chirping—sounds that usually grated on Idia’s nerves but now served as a pleasant backdrop to being near [Name]. Surprisingly, Idia hadn’t voiced any major objections to this “outdoor perambulation,” as he dryly called it, though he kept a wary eye on a group of energetic squirrels darting across their path, a small price to pay for [Name]'s happiness. 

They walked in comfortable silence for a while, their footsteps on the pavement blending with the soft sounds of the park around them. [Name] pointed out a vibrant patch of wildflowers blooming near a bench, their colors a striking contrast to the green grass. 

“Those are pretty,” [Name] commented, pausing for a moment, their eyes sparkling with appreciation. 

Idia glanced at them, maintaining a neutral expression, but his eyes held a flicker of interest simply because [Name] found them appealing. “They’re… colorful.” He didn’t elaborate, but the usual hint of dismissal was absent from his tone, replaced by a quiet acceptance of [Name]'s tastes. 

Continuing their walk, they reached a small pond where a few ducks paddled lazily. [Name] stopped to watch them, a soft smile gracing their face—a sight that always filled Idia with a profound sense of peace. 

“They seem pretty content,” [Name] mused gently. Idia observed the ducks for a moment, his usual guardedness softening as he considered anything that held [Name]'s attention. “I would hope they would. The most they need to worry about is hunting for food and not getting eaten.” 

[Name] chuckled softly, radiating warmth towards him. “You always find a practical way to look at things, don’t you?” Idia shrugged, an almost shy smile touching his lips, directed solely at [Name]. “It’s a habit.” 

They started walking again, the path winding through a grove of trees. Sunlight dappled through the leaves, creating shifting patterns on the ground. [Name] noticed Idia looking up at the canopy, a thoughtful expression on his face, his yellow eyes tracing the patterns of light and shadow. “It’s… quieter here,” Idia remarked, his voice softer than usual, the tension in his shoulders easing ever so slightly. “Less… chaotic.” 

“Yeah,” [Name] agreed, their hand brushing lightly against his arm, a touch that sent a pleasant warmth through Idia. “It can be nice to just… be still for a bit, surrounded by nature.” 

Idia didn’t respond immediately, but after a moment, he nodded slowly, his blue fire hair flickering gently in the dappled sunlight. “I suppose there’s a certain… lack of unnecessary stimuli.” 

They reached a small bridge arching over a trickling stream. [Name] leaned against the railing, gazing down at the water. Idia stood beside them, his hands tucked into his pockets, his yellow eyes fixed on [Name]'s serene profile. 

“You seem… more relaxed today,” [Name] observed gently, their gaze meeting his. Idia hesitated, then shrugged again, a slightly more open gesture this time, silently acknowledging the calming effect [Name] had on him. “No immediate deadlines or pressing concerns help lower my baseline level of anxiety.” 

A comfortable silence settled between them once more, but this time it felt different. It wasn’t the awkward quiet of their initial moments in the greenhouse, but a shared stillness, a quiet understanding that transcended words. They stood side-by-side, watching the water flow beneath the bridge, the sounds of the park creating a gentle backdrop to their unspoken connection—a connection that, for Idia, was the most precious thing in the world. 

As they began to walk back, the sun starting its descent in the sky and casting a warm golden glow over the park, [Name] noticed Idia looking around, his gaze lingering on the trees and open space, a hint of wonder in his usually guarded expression. “You know,” Idia said quietly, breaking the silence, his blue fire hair glowing softly in the fading light, “it’s… not entirely horrible being out here.” Although he didn’t sound overly enthusiastic, there was a genuine note in his voice that made [Name] smile, a testament to his willingness to step outside his comfort zone for them. 

“I’m glad you think so, Idia,” [Name] replied. He didn’t meet their gaze, but there was a subtle softening in his posture, a hint of peace blooming in his expression, a peace that blossomed solely in [Name]'s presence.

As they continued their walk, hand in hand, the setting sun painted the sky in hues of orange and pink. It felt like a small, quiet victory, a gentle step forward in their unique way of connecting. The park, with its simple beauty and unhurried pace, had provided them with a different kind of space, a space where even Idia could find unexpected calm, all because he was sharing it with the one he loved with every fiber of his being.

“Me too,” [Name] murmured, their hand finding Idia’s, their fingers interlacing gently. Idia’s eyes widened slightly at the unexpected contact, a soft gasp escaping his lips, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, his grip tightened ever so slightly, a silent acknowledgment of the warmth spreading through him at their touch.

The setting sun cast a golden halo around [Name], making them appear even more ethereal in Idia’s adoring gaze. He knew, with a certainty that resonated deep within him, that any discomfort or fear of the outside world was worth enduring a thousand times over, just to share moments like these with [Name]. 

Their hand in his felt like the most precious thing in the world, the most vital connection he could ever hope for. As they walked on, hand in hand, Idia realized that even in the simplest moments, with [Name] by his side, life was an adventure worth exploring.

Taglist🤍: @glitterandgoldfinds@sherryclover@1abi@lizzzysimp@floathyblues@toxicm0cha@kazudare@boredselkie @strayharmony943 @fanlovedlt @lizatherobot @d1gital-data @gl00muraaii @savanaclaw1996 @namingcrisisagain @frostines-blog

Sorry for the late updates but I am happy to say that I now have a Co-author!! This means quicker updates(3–9 days)!!  Redamancy will be updated later!! As always, TY for reading 🤗🤍

[sparkriddledfever]

Okay but like the milk maiden dress definitely gets those engines revving.

Reader is gender neutral.

Warning: 18+ under read more. Cunnilingus (in First Aid's part)

(Megatron, Prowl, First Aid, Hound)

Megatron may be an old, tired mech. Though that does not stop him from appreciating this sight before his optics upon entry into his habsuite.

The dress slightly hiked up your thigh, the front almost daring to slip off; threatening to tease his optics with the bare flesh. Daring him to descend upon your form without remorse since you just want to be a slagging tease. His fans switched on low, his face failing to hide behind that stoic persona. Yet you knew you had him flustered, a soft laugh roused from your lips.

"I was-" he cleared his throat to clear it of the static, "was not aware of any special occasions."

"No special occasion besides wanting to surprise my favorite mech," you winked.

A light snarl escaped him at the tease; he swiftly enters the suite and descends upon your flesh.

Prowl necessarily didn't have time to stop and drop everything. However, you just had to come into his office while he's leg deep in his work and show off that dress without shame. Telling him to take a break all the while purposely spreading your legs wide, leaning back on your hands as an invitation to him.

Well, since you kindly allowed him to take what he wants. He shall take advantage of it.

"P-Prowl! Slow down!-" you squeaked when his servos slammed down near your head. His optics glared down at you in those same fiery shades of blue, never once did his hips falter in their thrusts, a slight uptick of his dermas sent that fiery liquid feeling through your nerves and pooled in your stomach.

"I believe you don't have a say since you gave me the choice to relax. So, I am relaxing-" he grunts when a comm blimp into his HUD, growling as his tempo was thrown off, "fraggers."

"H-Huh?"

"Silent," he press two digits to his audials, "what is it now?"

Prowl rolled his hips slowly while quickly covering your mouth. He sent you a silent warning to behave, but you were never the one to follow his orders.

First Aid always admire his sweetspark even you happily show off new stuff or clothes to him. He always took the time to compliment you or share your joy, if he was going to play favorites though. His absolute, all-time favorite is you in a red and white summer dress; of course, he's a sucker for anything you wear that's in his colors. This specific one had his engine revving in delight.

His digit played with the strings while his dermas kissed down every bare inch of you. He softly vents, the air billowing over your heated skin sent shivers down your spine. Slowly, he lifted the skirt up; groaning softly at the sight of your wet pussy under the sun's gentle light flooding through the window.

He leans forward without a thought to his processor, placing a sloppy kiss to your clit. His glossa lapping up your juices and running it across his dermas. Rousing a sweet, shrill gasp from you. Making him smile in delight and filled with the urge to hear more of your sweet sounds.

Hound is a sucker through and through. You, who got him all wrapped up around your pinkie, have him stumbling and chuckling like a young mech. Flutter your eyes up at him while wearing that dress in his shade of olive green. He's truly panting like a dog when you press yourself up against him, letting him rut his spike between your thighs.

His servos trembled to keep his strength in check to not squeeze your hips too hard. His optics never once left your ass, too much focused on it rippling under his thrusts.

"Yer- ngh- killin' me here, darlin'. Yer gon be tha death of me, I swear."

It's not fair that your laughter gotta be so saccharine to his audials, making him feel like liquid with such ease. His helm drops into your neck with a barely audible whine when you squeeze your thighs together around his spike. You lean back into his hold, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck. Your lips brush against the sensitive audial, smiling with a soft blow to it,

"It'll be much easier for you to overload in me, no?"

Now, you're truly trying to kill him, huh?

[sunrisecaminus]

It's currently 12:40 am, and sleep keeps escaping me.

I would like to ask for a few drabbles, please. One of how the autobots (whoever you choose) handles a situation where they observe the human reader suffering from a lack of sleep over the past week or so. The reader admits that they tried everything from melatonin, yoga, teas, and essential oils- almost everything to help them sleep. But they keep on having nightmares or anxiety about the team parishing. How will the bot(s) find a solution to their humans problem?

Message - Guys please try to get some better sleep. You poor gremlins need rest to process what fanfics you are reading! Hope you can get some better sleep, babes!

Ratchet/Ultra Magnus/Wheeljack x Human Sick Reader

Summary - Ratchet, Ultra Magnus, and Wheeljack have to take care of their human. All three totally don't think you are dying/sarcastic.

Warning - Mentions of Vomit

Ratchet

Oh you better not be sick! This doctor has been telling you for months to take vitamins and gave advice on washing your hands every time you come home from work. You have to explain to him that it had nothing to do with that and you caught a sickness that got to you even with all the cleaning. Ratchet would sound like it was such a bother to care for you, but if you want to know what he really thinks, he is having a heart attack every time you cough. You worry him too much, he is giving you medicine and soup every lunch until your body gets better. "You better live tomorrow! I better not see you dying so help me Primus!" If he could scold the sickness away, than you would have been treated in a few hours. After a few days of you being bed ridden, he would start to just sit next to where you rest and do his work while looking after you. Ratchet does not want to take any chance to take his optics off of you. He tries his best how to understand human illnesses…but lets be honest you organics are a bit confusing to him on how you all function. If you were quiet enough, you can hear him mumbling about how he never wants to lose you. Ratchet thinks of you as his only hope in the war, losing you would make him crash out. Having a sweet person in his life is all he needs to push himself out of bed, and will work harder to take care of you and force your body to feel better. When I mean work harder, I mean read every report from June Darby and do exactly what she tells him to do.

Ultra Magnus

Bro do NOT tell him that you are ill. He would go nuts, scolding you for getting yourself sick and not understanding that it was not your fault. Magnus would give you a bunch of citations, telling you what not to do while you are trying to rest in bed. If he sees you not paying attention, Magnus would just nudge you with his digit to see if you are ok and sit next to the bed. He is a worried mech when it comes to this kind of stuff, wanting to make sure you are ok. He would constantly ask June if everything he is doing is working or if he needs to change his routine a bit. After some time, he would try to watch tv with you. This would probably be the most amusing part of your healing journey, telling him what shows are fake and which ones are real. Put on a ghost show, I freaking dare you. "Why are they afraid of noises? They need a building inspector to make sure the house is well kept." Surprisingly he likes the little kid cartoons because he understands that the shows are trying to teach the kids lessons. If you start to cough violently, the alarms in his processor will go off and grab a bunch of things he was told to give you. Magnus would try to give you soup and a bunch of other foods to help, keeping up a good conversation with you. He may not be a good talker, but if you ask him to tell you a story about the war, he has plenty to help you go to sleep.

Wheeljack

WHO MADE YOU SICK?! Wheeljack will find the guy and "verbally" teach him a lesson. He is lucky that Magnus and Optimus are here, because Wheeljack would kill somebody for risky your health. On the outside, he seems like he didn't care you were laying in bed all day, but on the inside he is thinking you are dying. Don't vomit in front of him, it sounds impossible I know but if you do, Wheeljack will start yelling for June and not skip his scouting missions. Playing board games is a fun way for him to calm down about your physical health, sometimes letting you win. Music is another thing he likes to play with you, looking to see what is on the radio at the moment. You can ask him many questions on if Cybertronians get sick or do they have another type of illness? Wheeljack understands the cultural differences and similarities y'all have so he is actually really good at explaining things. He has recordings of his findings on different planets so he would love to show you all his videos. It's nice to be around him while sick, because he is not afraid to hold you in his servos if you want to go anywhere. He loves it when he can roll you into a burrito, it is his favorite thing to do with you. Want to go get ice cream or the drive-in movie theater? He will climb into his ship and go everywhere for you. Also, Wheeljack will actually go slow in his ship because he doesn't want to make you vomit anymore than you do now.

[caraudioexpertaustralia0]

Headunit With Carplay For Kia /11-15 /K5 Optima LOW | 9 inch RHD

[techcomengineering]

Revolutionizing Public Address Systems: The Future of Communications

In today's fast-paced world, effective communication is paramount in various settings, from schools and healthcare facilities to airports and corporate offices.

To meet these demands, a new generation of communication technology has emerged, offering a flexible and efficient solution for broadcasting messages and announcements over vast areas.

This technology leverages the power of networks to provide seamless and adaptable communication, making it a game-changer for public address systems.

The Evolution of Public Address Systems

Traditional public address systems have come a long way since the days of simple megaphones. They have evolved from rudimentary setups to more advanced analog systems, which, while functional, had inherent limitations.

These analog systems often relied on extensive wiring and lacked the scalability required to adapt to changing needs. Maintenance and expansion were cumbersome processes, hindering the efficiency of communication.

Unlocking the Potential of Network Technology

The introduction of network technology has reshaped the landscape of public address systems, addressing the limitations of their analog predecessors. By seamlessly integrating with existing data networks, these modern communication systems have unlocked a host of benefits:

Flexibility and Scalability: Modern public address systems can cover extensive areas without the need for complicated wiring. Adding or modifying speakers and zones is a straightforward process, allowing for adaptability to evolving requirements.

Centralized Control: User-friendly software interfaces centralize system control. Authorized personnel can efficiently manage announcements, music playback, and emergency notifications from a single control panel, streamlining operations.

Exceptional Audio Quality: The use of network technology ensures that messages are conveyed with remarkable clarity, even in noisy environments. This feature is particularly critical during emergencies when precise communication is vital.

Integration Capabilities: These advanced systems can seamlessly integrate with other security and communication solutions, such as fire alarms and security cameras. This interconnectedness enhances overall safety and situational awareness.

Cost Efficiency: While the initial investment may be higher compared to older systems, the long-term cost-efficiency of modern public address systems becomes evident. Reduced maintenance and wiring expenses, along with energy-efficient components, contribute to a lower total cost of ownership.

Applications Abound

The versatility of these modern communication systems lends itself to a broad array of applications:

Education: Schools and universities utilize these systems for announcements, emergency notifications, and school-wide broadcasts.

Healthcare: Hospitals and healthcare facilities rely on them to communicate with staff, patients, and visitors efficiently.

Retail: Stores and shopping centers employ these systems for advertising, background music, and security announcements.

Transportation: Airports, train stations, and bus terminals depend on these systems for public announcements and emergency notifications.

Corporate: In office buildings, these systems facilitate company-wide announcements, conference calls, and background music distribution.

Embracing the Future of Communication

As these systems continue to evolve, we can anticipate further advancements and innovations.

The future of communication lies in the seamless integration of network technology with public address systems, ensuring that messages are conveyed efficiently and effectively to large audiences across diverse settings.

With their flexibility, scalability, centralized control, audio quality, and integration capabilities, modern communication systems are poised to meet the communication needs of our ever-changing world.

[robolvrr]

stars aligned. ☁️ ·̩͙✧

ultra magnus x reader drabble! warnings: nsfw. praise kink. mild bondage. slight voyeurism.

"you look stunning."

the titan near crumbles right then. you hear a noise you're certain none of the lost light, hell, galaxy even, has heard torn from his vocalizer, selfishly happy with the static edge that trembles with it.

he's a good listener, the loyal enforcer, because he doesn't even squirm no matter how loud his joints shift.

it's a divine miracle granted that rodimus didn't question your request of rooming with ultra magnus, under the premise of a work-related agreement. granted, some of the more rowdier crewmates suggested the obvious. efforts to keep your blossoming relationship under wraps were made long ago.

while there is little to pin rumors from in behavior - you'd share quiet looks across the hall, ultra magnus rarely raised his voice in your presence and never seemed to have issues with your data even with a spelling mistake (or four).. well. what good was a crew without gossip?

an unnamed engineer claims he's seen you nestled against ultra magnus's chassis. another chirps that his servos always glide along your back as if looking for something he had misplaced. whirl bets screws are loose and that you always have a limp to your gait - what else the source than the clear, animalistic fucking between you two?

no one listens to whirl. you shake the humor of accuracy before focusing back on your lover before he starts to twitch.

"say it, magnus." the mech whines. it should sound strange - it doesn't. you can tell when he resets his vocalizer, dizzy.

"i'm. i'm... i'm...!" large wrists twist, brief. you admire in silence, satin threatening to burst with his agony. this test of discipline the pair of you know he indulges, so the pristine bow stays in place - he groans under a roll of your hips, so much tinier than his, engines roaring to life.

"let it out, honey. you've been working so much lately."

magnus finally relents. "i'm. stunning." he could write pages and pages of how hypnotic your body looks, rocking against his rigid frame with expertise that'd put succubi to shame.

his faceplate is warm, biting back his shame because the lack of yours is just so nice to stare at. in fact, if he didn't know better, he'd say you were smug.

"say it again. you're stunning. you're beautiful. you're strong."

ultra takes the challenge in stride, noting his temperature inclines starting to ping him, adjusting cooling fans so as not to burn you.

he would never, never hurt you.

"i'm.. hagggh. please, my love, you're too-"

a wrong answer, for now. his pedes cannot spare the release of kicking. not when that same, titanium white silk is keeping the illusion of packaging.

"i don't want to hear anything, not even about me. tonight is all for you."

no human will ever share the strength to lift his tied servos, but he lets you anyways. gaze intense watching your lips drag to kiss the sides of them, tongue laving out to catch the ridges of a hefty digit.

"but i can't help it, darling. you squeeze me so much. you're so tight, hah. you're going to.. t-to-to.."

as much as his processors scream to undo his capture, it'd be a shame to ruin your pretty handiwork.

'pretty only because it's on you', previously moaned in his audials. before that cherry red grin goes to sipping your coffee and leaving him a joor just like this, to finish the analytic reports he had assigned you to finish.

"i'm stunning - frag. i'm stunning. i'm beautiful."

embarrassment collects thick at his core. he knows the underside of your legs must be painted pink by now. knows from the way you ride him faster that he's still being good, that you won't leave him high and dry and primus, he feels weak and -

"'m strong."

if weakness meant melting pitiful in you, under the addiction of flesh, he'll die and drift to the allspark blissful!

meanwhile, you're close to ecstasy. have been since he first introduced himself to the charming little analyst, simultaneously nervous and stiff. delighted to see even then he was trying not to wander, servos clenched.

on a first glance, annoyance. in reality? restraint.

"i love you."

ultra magnus curses. or it sounds so, a clutter of grinding gears and low vibrations you dazedly recognized as cybertronian. impish you isn't mean enough to ask for a translation.

"'m close. going to.. going to overload-"

"do so. fill me up, all of it, every drop. i want to walk with you dripping down my legs."

a laugh, sparkling and deep. "you're always so crude- ah!"

it's simply not realistic to hold all he offers. when you feel a familiar stretch and bulge your hips lift, still bucking the tip to ease him through the ferocious charge.

ultra magnus still can't believe how after the rumble of his frame ends you're still swift to tend to him. it's a nice feeling, watching you slowly undo his bondage, even rub your soft fingers along him as if they had caused any true damage.

a thick patch of fabric delicately dotes the seeping transfluid from his seams, sensitivity still gaining a groan or lilted sigh. determined as you are, he still scoops you up to glide closer to his dermas which you dutifully nip.

"stellar job as always, dear."

"mm. i will need.. a moment to recharge."

"just a moment?" a tittering laugh. "and here i thought you'd be ready for another round."

..

whirl eases from the habsuite hanger. if he had a jaw, or a face, or hell even a commlink that wasn't blocked by half the crew, he might have popped a circuit.

oh, he has a story to share and primus save whoever has to witness it.

robolvrr 2024

a/n: i am so helplessly in love with ultra magnus. take my offering. i feel like he needs a good roll in the bed and a bubble bath. whirl is not beating the humanfragger allegations.

[revelboo]

You have successfully made me into a Starscream fan 🫡 Ur works are ✨ stunning✨

Thank you! He’s fun to write

Everything is Alright Pt 30

Starscream x Reader-doubts

• Servos sliding down your spine, he listens to the sound of your breathing. Reassuring himself that you’re there. That all’s well even though a vague sense of disquiet nags at him. He’d given up on recharge, his processor circling back again and again to an old nightmare so familiar he knows exactly what will happen even as he has no power to change those events. A terrible loss in battle, Megatron leveling the blame on him. Taking it out on him in a rage. Tearing his wings from his frame as he screams, a ped slamming down on his back, breaking him. He knows the nightmare, it never changes.

• But this time it had. An invisible force dragging at his limbs, holding him back as he struggles to get there in time. Knowing deep down he won’t as he calls out to you to run and you just look at him with those trusting eyes. Waiting for him to reach you, protect you even as Megatron seizes your tiny form in his servos and you scream in pain. Shuddering, his venting goes rough to stir your hair and you mumble. Cheek sliding against his chassis as you shift in your sleep on him. His wings are shivering even trapped under him, that tremble rolling through his frame. It hadn’t been real, but it could be. Because of him. He nudges your head with his servo and you reach up a little hand, fingers grazing him and then draping your arm around him as you curl around that digit with a sigh.

• He needs you, but you don’t really need him, do you? You’re only dependent on him because he’s trapped you here helpless. His head falls back, helm thumping on his berth as he stares at the ceiling. He’s survived Megatron’s anger over and over. But you won’t. He doesn’t know why Soundwave or his Trine hasn’t let his secret slip yet, but it’s only a matter of time until you’re discovered. And he won’t be able to protect you. You wriggle closer to his servo with a soft, sleepy sound that darts through his spark in a jolt of awareness. That warmth that you stir in him growing even as panic begins to spread. He can’t let you go. Can’t protect you and you’re all he has. Nothing else stays or lasts. Neither will you if Megatron discovers you.

• An unsteady rumbling thrums through you and you sleepily lift your head. Starscream has an arm thrown across his face, his denta bared like he’s in pain as he growls softly. And you wake up enough to realize you’ve got your arms and legs wrapped around one of his servos, shoving upright and away as your face heats. His arm shifts, a red optic peering down at you without any real ire about you spooning his servo. He probably just thinks you’re being clingy. “Good morning,” you mutter, knowing he enjoys the little greeting. Usually the corner of his mouth twitches in an almost smile, but not this time. He’s just staring at you and there’s something so lost in his expression. A sadness that cuts through you. “Everything okay?”

• Always worrying about him instead of yourself. He runs the tip of that servo over your cheek in a gentle caress. No, he’s not okay. It’s not like he didn’t already know he’s selfish, but he’s never felt guilty about it before now. “Of course,” he rasps, spark aching as you reach up to lay a soft palm on his servo. Just one thing that was his. Was it so much to ask to be able to keep one thing. One little spot of peace. To be selfish and hoard those little smiles you give so readily, your affectionate touches and the sound of your soft voice asking him about his day. Agreeing with him. Just being there.

• Why does his spark hurt so much? Like he’s lost something so precious that he can’t survive without it. You’re right there, but for how long?

Previous Next

[tinydefector]

Thundercracker rut cycle

Thundercracker x human

Rut cycle masterlist

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: NSFW, Smut, giant/tiny, praising, sub Thundercracker.

This mech needs so much more with smut fics but gods did I have fun writing him getting treated to some praising.

_______________

The little human from earlier had Thundercracker's full attention. They are peacefully unaware of his burning gaze on them despite the sweet scent that came from their smaller frame, making him nearly snarl with want. His vents hitch slightly each time they shoot him a slight glance.

Venting deeply, the Seeker steadied himself. Fighting a losing battle to purge heated lines each time his frame caught a whiff of their scent, it was truly maddening to him, most times during rut he had Starscream or Skywarp, but as of recently neither of them had the time nor the interest.

"Hello, can I help you?" They call out to him their voice sounds so sinfully sweet to him that his digits dig into his servos as he watches them. They weren't afraid like many others of their species. Thundercracker vented sharply as the sweet scent of the little organic's arousal hit his olfactory sensors. His valve clenched and spike throbbed behind its panels at the alluring smell.

He reigns himself in enough to talk. Leaning down, his optics roved hungrily over the small creature's form. "Hello, fleshling," he rumbled, fans whirring loudly. The seeker cycled several intakes, struggling to override protocols screaming for him to claim a mate, he knew he should go and find one of his Trine or just another Decepticon but he was getting sick of getting sidelined over his needs.

"Your scent, it's very intoxicating" Thundercracker said gruffly. His plating felt too constricting against his frame, everything was screaming at his processor he needed to interface. The seeker loomed closer. They continue to watch him warily but relax slightly. "Oh, um thank you?" They feel rather exacerbated by the strange comment from the cybertronian. Their eyes flick to his vents that cast out loud whines with air as his plating shifts uncomfortably.

"Your species bears no reproductive cycles?" He questions helm tilted, most times all it took was remarking about their scent for Thundercracker to get someone in a berth during his rut, but now he's starting to question if humans actually have cycles. His panelling felt molten.

"Oh no, humans do have a reproductive cycle, we just don't tend to um.. smell it. Sorry you just took me off guard, I was aware that the Ark was on somewhat of a lock down due to your people experiencing some problems" They fluster slightly over saying it.

Leaning closer, the Seeker met their gaze. gritting his denta, as he tries to figure out the best way to broach the subject. "Are you alright, do you need me to get someone?" They ask softly. Thundercracker vented sharply as another wave of their scent washed over him. "Fraggit," he growled, fans whirring into their highest setting.

"I...apologise for my lack of control, it's getting to me. And no I doubt the other would be interested in helping" he vented. They look around for a moment, going quiet. "Close the door and sit down, you have to stay quiet though" they instruct while quickly making sure that they are the only ones in the room. "Do you want help with your problem?" They ask while motioning to his now leaking interface panel.

Thundercracker cycled a heavy ventilation as a whine leaves him, wings flicking at their words. "Primus, yes," the seeker growled, fans whirring loudly. He pressed the button for the door to close with a click, then lowered himself to sit on the floor. His optics burned hungrily as they roved over the human's smaller form.

The seeker cycled several intakes, fans howling as another surge of the organic's scent rolled over sensors. The moment they climb up onto his lap it has the seekers servos wrapping around their waist pulling them flush against his panel.

"Easy big guy, don't want you breaking me" they chuckle trying to make light of the situation. "Gotta be gentle with me, I'm human remember, I'm happy to help but you have to be gentle, tell me what you want pretty mech" they coo softly at him. Running their hands up his plating teasingly. Thundercracker managed to chuckle, though his voice carried a husky edge, betraying his own need.

"Alright, alright, I'll be gentle," he replied, his words laced with a mix of desire and restraint. He knew the importance of control, especially with a fragile being like this one.

They gasp as his servos cup their hips, feeling the way the metal digs into them through their clothing, They look up at him. " Is this alright?" They ask while slowly grinding against him.

The feeling has him nearly moaning as they grind against him. "Yeah, it's... it's more than alright," Thundercracker managed to reply, As they continued their slow, deliberate grinding, Thundercracker felt himself teetering on the edge of restraint. The sensation of their body moving against him, the heat and friction building between them, has groans and heavy vents of air falling from him.

Transfluid slowly leaks from the seams of his interface panel, as he continues to grind them against his heated plating. They gasp when the pink fluid begins to stick to their skin. "Didn't take you as one who liked humans" they chuckle softly,getting more comfortable as they continue to move against him.

"Oh, you have no idea," Thundercracker replied, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement. The pink fluid that now adorned the human's skin and clothing has an almost primal part of the mech wanting to just rip the fabric off them. As he continued to guide them in their movements, the sensation of their bodies moving together sent shivers of pleasure through him. "You humans have your ways of surprising me," Thundercracker remarked, a playful smirk playing on his lips.

"You seem to be handling yourself rather well for being in rut" they tease, playful touches continued to stoke the fire of his arousal. "Well, what can I say? I've had plenty of practice," Thundercracker replied, despite the overwhelming sensations coursing through him, Thundercracker found himself oddly at ease in the human's presence, much more than he would be with Skywarp or Starscream. He didn't feel like he had to put up the Decepticon facade.

"Don't get many chances for release?" They inquire, as Thundercracker begins to trace their body through their shirt, enjoying how soft and delicate they feel. "Though the Decepticons would want their troops in tip top shape " they discard their shirt for him to have more access to their skin.

"Release? Ha! You have no idea," Thundercracker grunted, his voice tinged with a mix of frustration and desire. "Peak condition? Yeah, right," Thundercracker scoffed, his movements growing more urgent as he touched their chest and stomach caressing and admiring. "The Decepticons don't care about our well-being, just our obedience," Thundercracker remarked, his tone laced with bitterness.

"Why do you stay with them then?" They hum as the cool metal of his servos trace down their chest and stomach, a deep hungry growl leaves him as the hormones and pheromones from their body make his own arousal more visible. "Why did I stay with them? It's complicated," Thundercracker began, his voice tinged with a hint of hesitation. The memories of his loyalty to the Decepticons, despite their lack of care for his well-being.

"Starscream and Skywarp are why I stay, they are my trinemates" Thundercracker explained, his movements growing more urgent.They move back enough to pull their pants off, throwing them to the floor and moving back to sit spread across his lap. "Come on pretty mech let me see what you've got hidden here, ill take care of you" Their bold actions sent a surge of desire coursing through Thundercracker's circuits, his systems humming with anticipation as they straddled his lap.

With a deep growl of longing, Thundercracker's interface panel opens his spike surge forth, transfluid leaking from it and down into his lap. "Oh woah" they stutter looking over the details and colours of his spike, the pink transfluid leaking through the ridges of his spike. they run their hands along it while moving closer for Thundercracker to grind against them. "I don't know if that will fit " the state shyly

"I assure you, it will fit just fine," he reassured them, his words carrying a hint of mischief and desire. As he lifts them up, slowly letting them get comfortable as he slowly presses into them. A loud moaned whine leaves them as Thundercracker presses his spike into their tight sex, his servos holding their hips as he grinds his spike deeper.

It is a tight grip and sinful feeling of how tight a human is wrapped around his spike. "Mmm, fuck never thought I'd be fucking a Cybertronian" they mumble thought a shaky breath. Gasping loudly as he thrust and rocks against them, never too rough with his movements.

As he grounds his spike deeper, feeling their body react to the tight grip, Thundercracker couldn't help but let out a low growl of satisfaction. "Mmm, that's it," Thundercracker's voice is a husky whisper, filled with desire. "You feel so good wrapped around me, human. Never thought I'd be indulging in such pleasures with one of your kind," he murmured, his tone laced with a newfound appreciation for the human before him. Despite the general disdain that Decepticons held towards humans and organics, he is rather enjoying himself.

Thundercracker found himself lost in the intoxicating sensations picking up his pace as he leaned back on the floor, wings twitching and stretching each time he tilted in them. feeling their tightness compared to Skywarp and Starscream, Thundercracker couldn't help but be amazed by how different it was, they are so much warmer and softer than a Cybertronian but took just as much of his spike.

"Mmm, you're something else," Thundercracker's voice was filled with admiration and lust. "You take me so well, frag im close," he confessed, his optics flicking off as he begins to buck into them. Their fingers scratch at his plating as Thundercracker growls lowly. He is so close to overloading despite not wanting to, his frame is pent up and this sweet little fleshling has him nearly a puddle on the floor due to how soft they are.

A primal moan escapes his vocalizer as he overloaded, grinding deeper into them as he holds them flush against his frame rutting into them trying to make sure they take as much of his transfluid as possible, little praises leave him as he holds them close. Loud moans leave them as they grip onto his plating as the bright pink fluid begins gushing from them, leaking into Thundercracker's plating and onto the floor. “ fuck..” they whine as they press their forhead to his frame.

“Are you alright?, your not hurt?” Thundercracker begins only for them to press back down onto his spike earning a mix of legitimate mix of words. “I'm more than alright blue but it looks like you need a lot more than just one go” they tease. Feeling how pent up he still is. He goes to move only for them to press a hand to his middle section. “Ah, ah no, I'm not done yet, pretty boy, you and I have some more getting to know each other to do” they coo at him onyk for his thrusters to flick on from their words.

Thundercracker could get used to this, he realises.

_______________

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