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monster-disaster · 7 months

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[tentacle] The monster under the shower

tentacle!monster x human!Reader Good to know: slightly dub-con

Summary: The resort is full of surprises.

White puffs of steam follow your way out of the cabin until you close the wooden door with a soft click. Your grip on the white towel around your body tightens as you look around. The pool is calm but busy, not far from where you are standing. Humans and monsters enjoy the pleasant water of the pools while others lay on their towels or chairs, sunbathing. The sun is bright and warm at the top of the clear blue sky, and despite the hot temperature, you feel almost cold after spending a few minutes in the sauna. A thin layer of sweat shines on your heated skin.

Soon, you tear your gaze away from the others to make your way to the small stalls of showers at the back. As you step into one of them, you let the thin curtain separate you from the outside world. The towel gets loose around your body, and you hang it over the white-tiled wall.

Pouring some soap into your hands, you start lathering yourself up, covering your body in small bubbles. You rub the citrus-smelling lotion over your skin, rubbing your muscles and washing away the sweat and sand. Your hair sticks to your back in wet strands. Drops of water run down your face, cooling you down after being under the sun and in the sauna most of the day.

You keep your eyes closed as you slowly relax with a hum in your throat. Your fingers brush through your hair, drawing small circles on your skin to massage your scalp. Small goosebumps run over your body at the feeling.

The quiet melody coming from your closed lips soon gets interrupted by the sudden noise at your feet. A frown tugs your brows together as you look down. You feel the still running water washing away the shampoo from the top of your head. The foam follows the line of your spine. The sound comes from the drain. It gets louder and louder until the metallic noise stops, and you meet silence. "Okay," you hum, unsure. You will inform someone about the noise later.

Just as you look down again, something black emerges from the drain. Your heart jumps up to your throat, and you are ready to grab your towel and leave as fast as you can when the thing shoots out and curls around your ankles. The thick tentacle slams against your skin, keeping you in place. The sudden force is almost enough to make you lose your balance. "Fuck!" You cry out, trying to shake off the thing, but it only tightens around you. "Hey!" You gasp out again, bracing yourself against the wall when your legs part without your consent. It creeps up on your legs, not letting you move even for an inch. The thing is soft and slimy on your wet skin. As it moves, it feels like a gentle caress. "It's enough!" You break the silence again. "Let me go!" To be honest, you are more annoyed than afraid. You know the reputation of the resort. Things can happen here. That's why people come here in the first place.

Despite your attempts to get free from the monster, you feel yourself getting wetter with every centimeter as the tentacles slip closer and closer to your center. You can feel the tips grazing your folds. One of them rubs your clit while the other teases your center. Gasping, you tug on your leg again, but this time, you try to find a more comfortable position. Annoyance still bubbles in your chest, but the desire in your lower stomach is stronger. You feel the familiar cramp of need jerking your muscles with anticipation. Every flick on your clit radiates through your nerve, running up your spine and twisting your world. The tentacle on your other leg is at your entrance, teasing but never pushing into you. "What are you waiting for?" You grunt, groaning. Impatience shimmers in your voice which soon turns into a startled scream. The thing does as you want. It pushes inside you, stretching you out and filling you up. Your breath gets stuck in your lungs, and the rings of the curtain pop under the tug as you try to stay on your feet. The fabric barely hides you anymore, but this is the last thing you worry about. The tentacles wrap tighter around your legs, leaving red marks on your skin. Meanwhile, your pussy is still fucked and filled. Loud grunts and moans escape your lips with every thrust. The forceful motions burn your walls and push you higher and higher. Stars dance behind your eyelids whenever you blink. Your cunt throbs with pleasure. It sears through your veins. Your orgasm is fast and ravishing. The tentacles fucking your pussy and teasing your clit are the only things that keep you from falling. Your walls flutter and pulse as you make a mess on the already slimy limb.

When you win back your senses, the tentacles are already gone, and the water is still running, drumming on your sensitive skin. Your legs shake, and you need a few minutes to wash yourself down again and wrap the towel around your body. Your heart still throbs in your throat, and for a second, you aren't even sure if you only imagined the whole thing or it really happened.

When you pull the curtain out of the way, the young woman who greeted you at the reception when you arrived a few days ago is a few meters away from you with fresh towels in her arms and a knowing smirk on her face.

- Masterlist Mirage Resort Masterlist Patreon

#monster boyfriend #monster romance #monster x reader #monster x human #monster smut #tentacle monster #tentacle smut #tentacle boyfriend #monsterfucker #mirage resort #kinktober 2023

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kairukitsuneo · 8 months

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⚠️Suggestive dialogue text⚠️

Mirage is pretty dramatic and his words can be....misunderstanding…(lol)

(Noah is just helping to get the wrench that was stuck inside Mirage)

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snipersfucker · 10 months

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An apology, but we all want to read how they are inside and possibly the Autobots lose control when what they have been imagining for so long happens (like Mirage / Bee / or Optimus) you made us addicted to you writing

there are special little places where yall can get help with your addiction!! im not the remedy!! (i bite the walls every single time i get a compliment) ALSO lets just pretend bees vocal cords werent ripped out to the point he couldn't moan like a slut :) dubcon:/

Bee was desperate.

The way your hips swayed when you walked, the way the soft tone of your voice echoed in the insides of his helm, the way you'd wrap your fragile fingers around his steering wheel and squeeze it ever so slightly in a playful manner—he needed you.

And one day, after spending countless nights on imagining you stretched out on his throbbing spike, your tits bouncing with every slap of his hips against your bare ass, he finally got the honour of actually seeing you underneath him, not just picturing it in his mind.

Bee was desperate for you, but he was also shy. Which meant that you had to initiate all the talks, all the touches, and all the kisses. However, when he finally understood that he had you exactly where he wanted you, and when he heard you vocalise your desire for him, he just couldn't stop himself.

The soft exchange of pecks on each others' lips turned into a heated make-out session, his glossa quickly asking for permission to slip into your mouth just so he could get a proper taste for the first time. His metal body began overheating as soon as he felt your body straddling his lap, your legs on both side of his hips. Your bold move made him only crave more of your touch, him barely able to restrain himself from just having his way with you, manhandling you until you'd beg for him to stop absolutely ruining you for the pleasure of you both.

And he wanted to continue making a mess with his lips on yours, especially when you were making so many sweet noises just for him... But he had to take things further, feeling like his spark might just explode if he didn't.

So he pulled away slowly, making eye contact with you for just a mere second, only to see the needy expression on your face, which gave him a silent permission to jump right into what he'd planned to do. His lips quickly found their place on the side of your neck, his servos landing on your hips, subconsciously pushing your core into his abdomen to create more friction between you.

He began licking, kissing, nibbling, and sucking the skin gently into his intake to create pretty bruises on your neck which would show anyone that you belonged to him.

Your breaths were getting heavier, much more chaotic, them hitching in your throat every time he paid special attention to a particularly sensitive spot. Your needy whimpers were mixing with the sound of his vents trying to stop him from overheating, his reaction to you making you want more of him than you already had.

And you didn't know you already had him whole. He was yours.

"Bee, please..." you whined, your eyes closed shut, hands on both of his shoulders with a strong grip which he didn't mind at all.

Your words made him transform the area under his abdomen, now a hard spike on full display, its length slapping against your stomach with every intense throb. He didn't stop taking care of your neck for even a second, every whimper and groan of desperation being muffled by your skin as he continuously planted wet kisses all the way down from your jaw to your collarbone.

He was growing impatient.

His spike touching you was sending constant pleasurable electric shocks down his bipedalism cord, his spark nearly exploding when you grinded against it with your clothed core.

The grip of his digits on your hips tightened, and you'd probably have endless bruises on your sweet, soft skin tomorrow, and this thought should've made him feel at least a tad bad but he adored knowing that he left something while doing such sinful things with you.

When you moved and brushed against his length again, he groaned in impatience, pulling away just to lift the hem of your loose shirt with his digit to signal to you that he needed it off. You made eye contact with him as you got rid of the piece of clothing on your upper half. But it wasn't enough for him—he had to have you naked against him, every inch of your warm, human skin against his hot, metal one.

Before his digit moved to the waistline of your pants, you were already unbuttoning and unzipping them, getting out of his lap just to be able to take them off fully alongside with your panties, them ending up somewhere on the floor, probably next to your shirt.

His optics immediately shot to your cunt, the temptation to put his spike inside you overwhelming his body. He didn't even wait patiently for you to get back onto his lap on your own, as soon as he stopped devouring the sight of you in front of him in just a bra, he immediately pulled you towards him with both servos on your hips again, placing you on his lap, exactly where you belonged at that moment.

Now your bare core was brushing against his spike, and he couldn't refrain himself from letting a couple of desperate noises roll off him glossa. You decided to undress fully for him, taking your bra off and tossing it onto the pile of long forgotten clothes. His optics could barely take in the view before his lips found themselves on your tits, his intake giving attention to both, switching from teasing, licking and kissing the left one to doing exactly the same to the right one. Your hardened nipples made it possible for him to gently bite them, making you buckle your hips and moan his name shamelessly, your own noises not allowing you to hear your thoughts, as if there was anything else on your mind other than how good Bee's glossa felt when it curled up on your nipple, it getting sucked into his intake.

The remains of self-control he could find within himself were slipping through his digits, the force of his touches increasing with every passing second. At the same time, he was also getting more and more intense reactions from you, your body craving more as it pressed against his.

Bee groaned, impatience getting the better of him, as he wrapped his arm around your fragile, human body, lifting you up with your chest still to his.

He moved fast like a starving man, placing you gently on the hard floor of the garage, its coldness radiating to your body, adding a completely new sensation. You arched your back, exposing your chest even more to him, hoping he'd put his mouth on your already swollen and sensitive nipples, but he seemed to have other plans when, without a heads-up, he grabbed the back of both your thighs, and lifted up your hips so that now the only body parts of yours making contact with the cement underneath you were your upper back and your head.

Your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head as you bit your lip to stop yourself from whimpering at the absolutely sinful sight of Bee kneeling down and hovering over you, spreading your legs and holding them pressed to your chest for better access to your dripping cunt.

You felt the tip of his spike teasing your hole which has been clenching over nothing for the past couple of minutes, finally about to get what it needed the most. And then, with one swift motion, Bee slid into you, the wet sound of his length entering your core echoed against the walls of your head.

A loud moan escaped the depths of your throat, lips parted, eyes closed themselves shut before you could even stop them, wanting to watch as the robot began trying to bottom out inside your warm cunt, but unfortunately his spike was too big for you to take for now.

It felt good. The pain from being so suddenly stretched out around him mixed with the pleasure from his spike hitting all the sweet spots inside you with the very first thrust of his hips.

Bee felt as if he no longer had control over his own body, the feeling of you wrapped around him, your warm cunt so inviting to just ruin it without second thoughts. And he could find absolutely no strength within himself to stop the almost animalistic desire to make you his in every meaning of this word.

His optics were trained on your face for mere seconds before his gaze shifted to the place where your bodies connected, your cunt covered in your own slick, the hole visibly stretched out to take his spike, even if it was only a half of his full length.

The idea of pushing the entire thing in only made him groan, the images of the bulge in your lower stomach he'd create flashing in front of his optics.

He threw his head back when he felt you clench around him, the sensation too much to handle.

You knew he was about to begin pounding into you as if it was the only thing he was made to do, the expression on his face and the look he was giving you the entire time confirming it.

"Bee..." you whined his name, not being fully aware what that sweet tone of your voice was doing to him.

So he just positioned himself better, pressing your thighs harder to your chest, taking almost the entire length of his spike out of your begging cunt, only to slam into you and put even more of him inside you.

You couldn't even control the noises escaping you anymore, your head thrown back because of the overwhelming pleasure.

Bee has had enough of waiting, the memory of him sitting in the corner of this garage, his spike in his servo as he kept fisting himself, overloading onto the hard floor multiple times just to get some relief after having to watch you walk around in your damned little dresses, your hips innocently swaying, your tits deliciously bouncing with every step.

Before you could register it, the robot was destroying your needy cunt with aggressive pounding, feeling as if he able to put more and more inches inside you with every slam of his hips against your ass.

His speed and the way he could hit all the best spots, even though the tip of his spike was kissing your cervix, made you constantly moan out loud, as if the walls of the garage were soundproof.

He kept making noises as well, although his were much deeper, more frustrated, as if he was chasing something he was so closed to catch but right before getting it, it'd just slip away from him.

He thought of this moment for a long time, the pink transfluid painting his servos on many occasions as he was imagining you in this exact position underneath him, squirming in pleasure.

But then, he came up with an even better idea, his body immediately following through, without even analysing it. He stopped mercilessly pounding into you just to manhandle you on your stomach, lifting your backside by your hips, spreading your legs to allow him to penetrate your needy cunt even more deeply. He positioned himself over you, his spike yet again pressing against your core for just a second before finally entering you once more. He didn't even waste time on preparing you to take him, just like the first time he pushed his length inside your pussy.

Now he had the opportunity to properly grope and slap your ass as much as he pleased, his hips constantly hitting it with every hard thrust he'd make. Tears began forming in the corner of your eyes, the feeling of being so perfectly stuffed by his spike making you shudder, moan and squirm beneath him.

His movements were rapid and chaotic, but he never slowed down, only increasing his speed, making mental notes of the noises you were making while he was fucking you so good.

"Bee, 't hurts..." you whimpered weakly in-between your loud, slutty moans, him taking it as an encouragement to continue ruining your cunt which was now clenching around him more than ever before. His one servo went to the back of your head tilted to the side, his digits gently stroking your hair as if it was supposed to help ease the pain mixing with pleasure, while the other one was still on your hip, pulling your body towards him at the same time he was pushing at it, making your skins hit each other with even more force.

You told him it hurt you but he couldn't stop.

He felt himself getting closer and closer to overloading, the warmth of your cunt getting sweetly unbearable as his movements became more sloppy, yet still as hard as before.

"Fuck." Curses kept spilling from your sinful mouth, feeling his thick spike throb inside you, indicating that he was probably about to finish.

The discomfort and pain of his metal hips hitting your much softer backside were slowly becoming less and less noticeable as complete pleasure washed over you, making you a wet, moaning mess underneath him.

With his two servos on your hips, he increased the speed of his movements once more, chasing the so desired release.

"Bee, please..." you whined again, your tits bouncing with every thrust, your hardened nipples brushing against the rough floor, "Overload in me..."

Your words were enough to tip him over the edge. With only a few more harsh slams into your tight cunt, he felt himself spurting his thick transfluid into your cervix, multiple groans and whimpers leaving his intake as he did so. He kept fucking the pink liquid into your cunt, not wanting a single drop to escape.

You could still feel his hard, metal hips hitting your ass, all until you clenched around him so tightly, he swore he could overload again just from that sensation alone. You came all over his thick spike, moaning loudly, your body shaking with indescribable pleasure from both his rough pounding as well as the knowledge that his transfluid was deep inside you.

Bee didn't pull out instantly, his thrusts decreasing in speed and force with every passing second, trying to ride out the remains of his and yours overloads.

You were panting and the robot was most definitely overheating, his metal body much hotter in touch than ever before, now his chassis pressed against your back as he began planting gentle kisses to your hair, his vents not being able to catch up.

After a long time that didn't feel long enough for him, he decided to pull away and take his spike out of your core filled with his transfluid, practically begging him to just fuck it again. But now, that his lust for you was somehow taken care of, he could regain the control over his body, and allow you to rest after getting absolutely ruined by him.

You rolled over onto your back yourself, clenching your thighs together when you felt his pink juices flooding out of you, wanting to keep them there for as long as possible. He smiled at your attempts to keep him inside you, the desire growing in his optics once again.

Bee gently wrapped his servos around your bare, exhausted body, lifting you up to place you down on the sofa he was previously occupying with you in his lap. As soon as you felt the plush against the skin of your back, you pulled the robot in your direction with your hands on both sides of his helm, making him bend his body so that you could kiss him passionately for the last time that night, knowing that he was most likely about to leave you to take care of his Autobot duties. He obliged without complaining, ready to slide into you again right then and there. And how disappointed he was when you pulled away with a soft smile, exhaustion finally catching up to you...

The corner of his slips curled up as he looked around in search for something to put on you. An abandoned blanket sitting on a wooden chair since he could remember would do. Before you could even notice he left you alone on the sofa, he was back, covering you from the neck down quickly but still making sure your whole body was under the soft fabric.

"Prime needs you?" you asked in a weak tone, your voice now only confirming how tired you actually were.

Prime needed him but he needed you.

Bee only nodded, to which you responded softly, "I'll stay here." And before he could even give you any sort of a physical confirmation that he got that, you already closed your eyes with a content expression written all over your face.

He smirked to himself, the sweet feeling of finally achieving his goal washing over him, him practically having been able to live in his dreams for a moment. His smile only widened when he came to a realisation...

He finally managed to mark you as his.

don't know if i made it he-lost-control enough but i tried and that's what counts in my books. also, i made it an oneshot but if you wanted separate hcs for these characters ill be more than willing to write it

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mirangel · 9 months

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HII RANN ITS BEEN A WHILE SINCE I REQUESTED SOMETHING SOOO LIKE CAN YOU DO ALHAITHAM X HYBRID READER X KAVEH AND LIKE THE READERS IN HEAT LOLOLOL

(I suffer from an unclean mind 😂😂)

monthly heat !

cw: gn!reader, hybrid!reader, heat, slightly omegaverse-y, polyam, kavetham here and there, praise, overstim, degradation, double pounding, dumbification

written by a minor, dni if uncomfortable

you can’t help but drown yourself in the overwhelming feeling of your heat. you practically raided your two roommates’ closets in order to prepare for this after all, but nothing could come close to the two men’s presence themselves. you could hardly breathe, grinding yourself in your beloved architect’s silk pillow, while you bury your face into your scribe’s clothing, begging to no one in particular for them to come home quicker, for them to come home and satisfy your needs. luckily for you however, they came home earlier than they both expected, and they were greeted to a beautiful sight of you humping kaveh’s pillow, while drowning your entire senses in alhaitham’s clothes.

“my… how naughty of you, to be playing with yourself while we’re away.” alhaitham sneers, pinning himself above your needy body while kaveh moves his body next to yours, rubbing the small of your back with his slender hand, using the other hand to rest his head on his fist, a gentle smile on his face. “alhaitham dear, this poor thing’s in heat! we should take care of them, it’s our duty as their mate after all!” the blond chirps, giving a small peck on the other’s cheek before unzipping his pants, with the other following suit shortly.

kaveh is a much kinder man, who treats you like glass as he presses kisses on your body as he mumbles sweet praises into your ear. he tells you how much you fit him perfectly when he slots himself inside of you, how beautiful you look underneath him, moaning when he takes you entirely, encouraging your moans that slip out of your mouth, coaxing you to go further, “tell me what you need, dear bunny.” he coos, caressing your cheek with his hand as he thrusts himself deeper into you.

alhaitham is much rougher, who treats you like the animal you are when he brings you to your peak over and over, he’ll bring you the satisfaction you deserve, despite what his other partner says, he’ll treat you as rough as you want him to go. “my, you little slut, if i had known you’d want this sooner i could’ve fucked you as hard as you want.” he grins, prodding a sensitive spot inside you that makes your legs curl around his waist.

the two of them together are like two devils in disguise, they find ways to satisfy you in unison without even giving each other more than a single glance and a nod, their two cocks pounding your hole with delicacy and toughness in one mixed setting, their ragged breaths in your ear as they mumble and moan about how you good you feel. you can hardly think, but that’s okay, you’re content being like this. your heat may be temporary, but their love for you is eternal.

ok!! i had this marinating in my inbox for a while and unfortunately for me! i am drunk off my shit writing this so this may be poorly written i am so sorry haha

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doqt33th · 10 months

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SINGULARITY

MIRAGE/READER

SUMMARY: You and Mirage have been pining for each other for a while now. A nasty summer storm drives you straight into his arms. Shenanigans ensue.

WORD COUNT: 18k. Sorry I’m insane

WARNINGS: 18+ and I CANNOT STRESS THAT ENOUGH!! Explicit PWP, fingering + oral (fem receiving), penetrative sex, mild spit kink. Reader is fem and uses she/her pronouns but is written fairly androgynous. No descriptors of appearance beyond the basics and no (y/n) used.

Familiar streets flashed by at increasing speeds, traffic and pedestrians flickering by and blurring together into a smorgasbord of color, all gilded by the setting sun. Unconsciously, you dug your fingers into the seams of the leather seat beneath you, worrying the stitches. Out of the corner of your eye, the radio blazed to life with color and that oh-so-familiar symbol.

“Hey, hey, easy on the merchandise, hot stuff,” Mirage crackled out of the speakers lightheartedly, and you immediately yanked your hands into yourself like they’d been burned. In your worrying, you’d seemingly forgotten about what — or rather, who — exactly was your ride.

“Oh— my bad, I wasn’t thinking,” you said, sinking your weight back and down, instead picking at your nails to give your hands something to do. God, you were so nervous, and for what? Mirage knew all these people— these bots, and knew them well. They were all friends! Or amiable towards each other, at the very least. And they were the good guys. Saved the world and all that.

So why were you so anxious?

“You’re good, don’t worry ‘bout it.” He slowed to a stop at a red light. Your leg started to bounce. “Sooo… you wanna tell me what’s on your mind? Save me a trip to Noah’s repair shop? I’d hate for you to start taking your emotions out on me, y’know.”

You scoffed, eyes sliding to the radio. The grin that pulled at the corners of your mouth was one you were helpless to stop. He just had that effect on you, where around him you became a slave to your laughter and, additionally, also became one half of a terrible joke machine that Mirage happily completed.

Leather creaked as you nudged the inside of the door with your boot to chastise him. “You love when I take my emotions out on you, dick. Don’t lie.”

“Only the good ones,” he shot back, and you could hear the grin in his voice. “You nervous about meeting the others?”

His probe was successful; you fought the urge to shrink at your feelings being read so accurately and so immediately. “I— yeah. I am, and I don’t even know why. I’m sure they’re all great, I’m just working myself up over nothing.”

Red faded to green. Carried on the tide of forward-moving traffic, Mirage rolled ahead, eventually slipping over to make a turn. You watched him twist his mirrors to check his blind spot.

“Ah, c’mon. Nobody could blame you, you’re meeting a bunch of aliens for the first time. Pretty trippy for anyone. ‘specially if those aliens are, like, double your size. And robots.” A short chuckle topped off his words.

“Right. I just don’t wanna fuck it up or embarrass myself, you know how it is. I don’t wanna embarrass you, either.”

“Oh, Primus, trust me. You’re not gonna embarrass me. I don’t even think that’s possible. Prime’s seen me in a lot worse shape than bringing you in to meet him.” The world continued to roll by. Brick buildings blotted out the sunshine in intermittent flashes. “You got good marks from your favorite bot, you’ll be fine.” The dismissive tone of his voice was working, in a weird way, to assuage your fears.

“Excuse me,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest pointedly. “My favorite bot?”

“What, am I not?” A downright theatrical gasp hissed out of the speaker. “Have you been cheating on me?”

Cheeks hot with a flush at even the joking insinuation of being together, you glanced away from the impassive Autobot symbol on the radio and out the window. Still, the laugh barked out of you was sudden and sharp, and quickly dissolved into giggles. “Yes. Mirage. I’m sorry. There’s another ten foot tall alien robot in Brooklyn that’s been vying for my attention. We’re done.”

“I should throw you out on the street right now,” Mirage fussed playfully, his evident pout tinging his voice. “For breakin’ my spark. Also I’m taller than that.”

“You wouldn’t dare. I’m fragile.”

“I dunno. Noah gets his ass kicked around pretty good and he’s still kickin’ it.”

“I am not Noah,” came your tongue-in-cheek rebuttal. “And Noah just refuses to give up even when it’s good for him.”

“Thought qualities like determination were supposed to be big things with you guys.”

“In moderation.”

Mirage barked a laugh. “Ha! Should tell that to Prime. He’ll blow a gasket.” You opened your mouth to reply, only to be cut off. “No, seriously, tell it to Prime, we’re here.”

The easy confidence that your playful back-and-forth had teased out instantly chilled into a dense mass in your stomach; Mirage was rolling slowly up to a nondescript warehouse buried deep within the old industrial part of Brooklyn, and the way the worn brick loomed over you even in the car made your heart rate pick up.

Now or never.

Familiar alien whirs and clicks of shifting and setting metal filled your ears as Mirage rose into his bipedal mode, the driver’s seat gently ejecting you onto your own two legs on the pavement. Following the motion, you took a few steps forward, but still balked a little at the half open door. Inside, you heard voices of varying timbre, and you fought the urge to turn tail.

Now. Or. Never. Gritted teeth accompanied the repetition of your thought.

The displacement of air behind you — and the soft, constant mechanical noises emanating from his body — signaled Mirage’s presence before his voice.

He said your name with surprising care, using a tone that only came out when he was really being sincere. You couldn’t help the way your face warmed at it as you turned, craning your neck up to meet his gaze. “Hey, you, uh, you want me to go in ahead of ya? Normally I’d be like ‘ladies first’ and all that, but you said you weren’t feeling too jazzed about going in—“

“Yeah, actually, if you could, that would be… great. That would be great.”

“Gotcha. Let you psych yourself up a little more before you go in, I see how it is. Let me do the talking,” he affirmed with an easy grin and a nod, bouncing on the balls of his pedes a few times before striding forward. His long legs folded easily under him as he ducked under the lowered garage door, and you traipsed after, smoothing your thumb over your knuckles repeatedly.

The warehouse yawned beyond you, orange shafts of light cutting gashes into otherwise brownish darkness. Old graffiti sprayed across the walls told you that Ramona had been there once, then Nick, then Darnell, and a million others. And you were there now, feeling impossibly small, yes, but a little more resilient with the fading sunlight at your back and Mirage, like always, at your side.

He’d become a permanent fixture in your life from the day you’d met him — when you’d strong-armed Noah into giving up his secret about his Porsche, and the mysterious car had ended up being a twelve-foot-tall robot with a literal motormouth that made a playful pass at you within the first hour of your first conversation. You’d been flustered out of your mind, but had just kept coming back out of unfettered curiosity and outright fascination. Aliens were real, and Noah was friends with one, and it— he could turn into a Porsche.

Mind-shattering observations on the surface, yes. Mirage tended to deflate the grandeur, though, because he never acted like aliens did in the movies or in books. There was no ‘We come in peace!’ bullshit. He was so easy. Everything with him was so easy. He was loudmouthed and extroverted and genuinely hilarious; you spent hours in Noah’s garage trading terrible jokes — mostly bad sexual innuendos — or buckled to Mirage’s driver’s seat as he flew down Central Avenue on the wrong side of the limit and blasted Haddaway so loud it nearly busted your eardrums.

Weird to say an alien robot was your friend, but he was. He gave you rides to work, to your lectures, to your labs, wherever; in fact, he got petulant when you dared to take the bus one day to give him a break, and made it a point to pry your routine out of you so that he could take you wherever you wanted, no fares needed.

So infuriating. You loved it.

You loved… maybe more than just the back-and-forth. Maybe more than the bad jokes. Maybe more than the late-night drives. You were starting to think— starting to realize you loved big blue optics, and the rumble of a 260 horsepower engine when you made just the right innuendo, and broad, incredibly intricate servos that dwarfed yours in size but were so, so careful…

Man. You tried not to think about it too much. It as a concept made you laugh with its own absurdity. Poor human chick fell in love with the giant alien robot that made her laugh. It wasn’t… debilitating. You still functioned like a normal adult. Mostly. Except for that one night like two weeks ago where you’d been arguing with him about some stupid shit and he’d scooped you up, right off the ground, in both servos and held you there, digits interlaced against your back and thumbs on your front.

It wasn’t the first time he’d ever held you like that — he’d done it a few times — but something was different that night… even if he’d only done it to gain an upper hand in your bickering. The air crackled with latent electricity, made your skin buzz in all the right places, especially when Mirage had gone quiet for once in his life as he stared at you in his grasp. When you’d prompted him with his name, he’d only responded by gently stroking a thumb over the swell of your chest, which had made you gasp air in so sharply that it burned in your throat. The metal left a tingling path on your skin under your shirt in its wake and immediately sent your heart rate skyrocketing past whatever the fuck was a normal BPM.

He’d snapped back to reality at the sudden expansion of your lungs and had attempted to play it all off as a joke. You remembered how you’d still stumbled when your shoes touched the ground, an absolutely insane feeling of genuine heat rocking you as your brain seized the feeling of his touch while it still sparked against your nerve endings and helpfully replayed it over and over and over again. Sure, the rhythm of banter came back after a stuttering beat, but you never really cooled the warmth on your face for the rest of that night — and when Mirage had dropped you off at your apartment, your door was shut and locked for about five minutes before your shaking hand was frantically worked beneath the waistband of your pants.

…Whew. Definitely something a little more than friendly there. Maybe even more than pure love, something a little slicker and deeper that buzzed against your bones and coiled low in your stomach. It made you feel a little weird — just objectively, because of what Mirage was — but damn if it didn’t feel good to indulge.

God, fuck, why were you thinking about that now, of all times? Escapist fantasies be damned, you were going to meet Mirage’s comrades-friends-coworkers and leave a good impression. Not drool over the worn-out memory replaying in your head for the thousandth time this week.

Out of the darkness and around corners, they emerged. The stealth wasn’t on purpose; you didn’t even think they could be stealthy. Oh, one was coming right for you now — tall was the only word your brain could muster. Tall and red and square were added to the list of adjectives as the stately bot approached, servos collected into fists at his sides and shoulders thrown back.

“Priiiime,” Mirage greeted warmly, throwing his arms out at his sides in his favorite pose. “Look, hey, I know what you said about bringing more people around, but I swear— Hey!”

Completely ignoring your friend’s (status pending) greeting, the bot— Prime, holy shit, this is THE Prime, was kneeling down, leaning forward, and he was right in your face. You fought the very biological urge to flinch. Blue optics considered you for a moment before narrowing and flicking to your right from his lowered position.

“Mirage,” Optimus started with a gravelly tone from behind his faceguard that communicated exasperation above all else. “I explicitly stated that for our safety — and yours — that we were to come in contact with no more humans.”

“Sir, I gotta be honest with you. Kinda hard on a planet that’s got, what, five billion of ‘em? Six?” Mirage glanced at you for backup. You stared back flatly, refusing to say anything that might put you on the business end of a laser cannon.

“You were told to remain incognito so you could recover.” Optimus continued, his gaze returning to you. With a shunk of shifting metal, his faceplate slid away. His faceplates were weathered; the chipped metal around his optics gave the illusion of wrinkles and eyebags. Tired. He seemed tired. “This is not incognito. What is your name?”

You gave it after taking a beat to steady yourself. He repeated it back to you. “How did you come in contact with Mirage?”

“I, uh— Noah, Noah Diaz, he’s my friend. I basically pried it out of him,” you said with a nervous laugh. “So it’s not Mirage’s fault. I’m just nosy.”

At the mention of Noah, Optimus seemed to visibly relax; he moved back slightly, though he remained kneeling, and the narrowed, suspicious squint of his optics rounded out into something much softer.

“…I see. Then I assume you understand the… precarious nature of our existence on your planet.” he said, his tone grave and his optics searching your face.

You nodded, pressing the flesh of the inside of your cheek between your teeth for a moment as you came up with a suitably diplomatic response that still conveyed your friendliness. “I do, yeah. Noah told me most of it. What he could, anyway. I just wanted to make it clear that I’m not— I’m not a threat here. Like I don’t work with the, uh, the government or anything. Whatever you guys need help with, I’m available, even if that just means keeping my mouth shut.”

Christ, you were glad this wasn’t your day job. You’d be such a shit ambassador. I’m available. What the hell did that even mean? Fuck yes, you were available, your brain guffawed, thinking of broad metal thumbs brushing over your chest.

You blinked hard, squeezing your eyelids together until the world came back in a photo negative, to scold yourself.

Although you’d stumbled through your reply, Optimus seemed to approve. He rose with a great creak of metal off of his knee and backed up to give you space, though he still regarded you with those sharp blue optics that felt as though they pinned you to the concrete below. “I see Noah chooses his company well. I should have assumed his sentiments would extend to his companions.” He shut his optics for a moment and dipped his head, as if considering deeply what to say next. “I am not sure how much Mirage — or Noah — divulged to you.”

“A fair amount— well. Any amount that won’t get them in trouble,” you called up, taking in deeper breaths to project your voice up the two stories of height to his head. To your side, Mirage snorted. “I know your name— Optimus, I know that, and I know about the Autobots. A little bit about the— fuck, what were they called—“

“Terrorcons?” Mirage supplied, and you were impressed at how quiet he’d been otherwise.

“Terrorcons, thank you. Other than that, not much. How much should I know?”

“Your knowledge is sufficient. All we fear — and all we risk—“ Optimus added with a pointed look at Mirage, who looked incredibly sheepish. “—at the moment is discovery. So long as you maintain secrecy, no harm shall come to us… or you, for that matter.”

It almost sounded like a threat, but Prime worded it very much like a warning. You decided it was best to heed his word — not that you really had another option.

“Right. Okay. Well— I mean, it was nice to meet you. People — humanity, I guess — aren’t bad. Most of us aren’t, anyway. Just, uh, let me know if there’s something Noah and I can get or do for you.”

Prime’s gaze shifted away from you. In fact, it seemed to shift away from the warehouse in general, looking somewhere far beyond the now-shut garage door. “Your generosity is admirable, but it is not humans primarily that we are concerned with.”

Brows furrowed at his vague answer, you thought it over for a second — and then decided not to push it. He probably knew best when it came to whatever foreboding nebulous space threat loomed over your collective heads; you would leave it up to the experts.

“Oh, well, golden rule and all that,” you still offered in terms of a response. That got his attention. His massive head tilted downwards to look at you once more with curiosity. “If I crash landed on someone else’s planet, I’d want them to be hospitable, y’know? Just trying to make the best of a shitty situation.”

Like he couldn’t handle the terrible punishment of silence anymore, Mirage butted in. “See, Prime? I told you she was cool.”

A short jolt shook the broad, boxy line of his shoulders, and at first you had thought he’d coughed, and then you realized he laughed. It was barely anything, a huff of a chuckle, but you glowed with the indirect affirmation. Just made Optimus Prime laugh. Maybe you weren’t such a terrible diplomat.

He wasn’t looking at you, though, rather at Mirage, and you swore from your low vantage point you could see a barely-there smile on Prime’s faceplates communicating…was that smug amusement? As the tall bot carefully made his way past you, he stopped in front of your companion, and let a heavy servo land on the headlight adorning his shoulder.

“No matter what you may feel, you chose well, Mirage.” Optimus rumbled out, before removing his servo and traipsing off into a darker section of the sprawling warehouse, ducking through a much-too-small cutout and speaking to Arcee about something indistinguishable. However, you couldn’t care less about whatever her and Prime were discussing — what the hell did he mean by Mirage choosing well?

You turned your head towards said bot, mouth open for inquiry and one brow raised. Mirage looked mortified, in every sense of the word; he stood shell-shocked, lips slightly parted and servos up and open as if to defend himself. His head was whipped around to follow Prime’s departure from the room. A whir started, bouncing off the walls — Mirage’s fans came on and off intermittently to keep his ambient internal temperature at safe levels, but the steady hum of this fan let you infer that he was flushing something fierce.

“Mirage? What—“

Interrupting you by breaking, nearly jumping, out of his trance, he clapped his servos together and started talking at a million miles a minute. “Well, damn, look at that, haha, it’s late, ain’t it? You got work in the morning, right? C’mon, hop in, I’ll drive you home—“

“No, Mirage, hold on, what was he talking about—“

“Seriously, c’mon, he was just messing around—“

“You’re telling me Optimus Prime was joking? Is he even capable of that?”

He said your name with a finality that nearly made you flinch. “Look, I can’t really— Just drop it, please?” It wasn’t angry, nor was it even commanding; in fact, his eyes were wide and pleading with you out of embarrassment. You knew the feeling all too well, and in the interest of sparing his feelings, decided to let it go, despite your intense curiosity.

You put your hands up in surrender. “Okay. Dropped.” A few beats of silence passed while Mirage was still tamping down his fluster. “You wanna take me home now or are we waiting for Prime to come embarrass you more?”

“Please, let’s get outta here,” he affirmed, dropping into his alt-mode and popping the driver door for you. As you slid in, you couldn’t help the little mischievous smile that grew on your face as your brain cooked up some other joke to take the edge off.

The garage door opened on its own. Mirage rolled into the noticeably darker alleyway. The burnt umber glow of the sunset-stained sky was only visible overhead; otherwise you were boxed in on the sides by blacked-out buildings.

Stifling silence was broken by a joke. Your joke, actually. “…Can’t believe your dad made fun of you in front of me.”

The noise Mirage made was only comparable to a squawk. But obviously much more masculine, clearly. Still, his tires jerked on the road, betraying his surprise. “Hey— Prime is not my sire— or dad, or whatever you wanna call ‘em. He wishes.”

“I dunno,” you mused, arms crossed over your chest and back sunk deep into the seat. Brooklyn in transition blurred by in messy constellations of lit windows. “He got you pretty good there. Pretty standard dad behavior.”

“Hey, I don’t know what suddenly inspired him to go for comedy, but I do not appreciate it. That’s my thing. He’s stealin’ my thunder!”

“Maybe you’re just rubbing off on him.”

Silence.

The radio crackled. “Ew.”

Accompanied by the loudest eyeroll you could muster, you whacked the dashboard with an open palm, though you couldn’t stop your bubbling laughter. “Oh my god, you are so gross, Mirage! I hate you!”

“Ahh, don’t say that, c’mon! You love it here!”

“You wish.”

The rest of the ride home was spent that way, bickering like normal, and although you couldn’t let go of what Prime had said, nor his knowing look while he said it, you appreciated the return to baseline. When you got home, Mirage parked directly in front of your apartment building, and you lingered on the sidewalk for several minutes after you got out of the car. With the passenger door opened so it looked like you were talking to the ‘driver’ and not completely insane, you leaned on the doorframe and traded jabs with your ride until the humidity of the night air got a little too persistent to ignore. Damn you, Brooklyn.

“See you tomorrow?” Mirage never said goodnight. He only ever asked when he could see you again, corny bastard.

“Tomorrow. My roommate’ll take me to work, don’t worry about it. I’ll just stick my head in the garage when I get home.”

“I thought we had a thing goin’, man!” His faux petulance returned. “You movin’ on already? You just met my folks!”

Your jaw dropped for a second at the fact he’d turned the damn bit around on you. “I met one folk, and you literally said he wasn’t your dad.”

“Maybe I was warmin’ up to the idea!”

Another lethal eyeroll. Your smile still remained locked on your face. “Whatever. Get the hell out of here, asshole,” you said, playfully shutting the door just a little harder than you needed to and slapping the roof like a horse you were trying to send off into the desert.

Even as you turned to walk into your building, you could hear the way his window shot down, far faster than a normal roll. “Ay! Merchandise!”

You stuck a middle finger over your shoulder, thumb out and all, to give him an idea of what he could do with his merchandise. Tires peeled against pavement as he screeched out of his spot and down the otherwise quiet street, letting you know in return how he felt about that.

Smiling like an idiot as you climbed the stairs to your apartment, you felt… airy. You were always smiling after hanging around Mirage, you couldn’t help it — especially as of late. But still, you were dying to know what Prime was talking about when he was messing with Mirage earlier. You chose well. Chose what? Your brain briefly entertained the thought of Mirage returning what you felt, and it made blood rush to your face.

It couldn’t really… work. You had made peace with your physical differences weeks ago. The both of you got along just fine despite the size difference, and it never impeded your normal interactions. But you doubted Mirage felt the same; no matter how familiar, how friendly you were with him, you could never shake the feeling of being just a little too alien. Your greatest similarities were in personality. The closest resemblance you held physically was the fact you were both humanoid in shape.

That didn’t stop you. No, not at all. It didn’t stop you from dropping into bed after a quick shower with a heavy sigh, your hand inevitably sinking beneath the covers as you thought of digits — Mirage’s digits, so well articulated for their size and so careful — playing with the hem of your underwear instead of your own fingers, pushing the fabric aside just a little roughly to explore your alien anatomy. It took very little time for you to grind yourself to climax; in fact, it was embarrassingly quick, and it left your face hot with some special kind of shame as you slunk out of bed to wash your hands. The entire time, you avoided your reflection in the mirror.

Even with the ancient AC cranked on and chugging away, it took you a long while to fall asleep.

Off in the industrial district of Brooklyn, meanwhile, Mirage was burning rubber as he took ninety-degree turns at sixty miles per hour. His processor was thrumming at max capacity, and his engine felt like it was about to either stall or explode.

Primus, it was all too much. Your teasing always got him some kind of hot and bothered, tight under his interface paneling, but the acidic rush of embarrassment still prickled at his cabling. Prime, come on, man. Mirage was still floored at the fact that Prime of all bots had embarrassed him like that, in front of you, no less!

He had it bad for you, and he knew it, but apparently every other bot in that warehouse knew it too. Ever since he’d met you, you’d stuck in his processor, the way the light glinted off your eyes and your all-teeth smile and the way he could get you to laugh. Sure, his flirts were only playful at first — and he only did them to mess with Noah, who’d harbored an on-and-off crush on you for a while — but the more he did them and the more you returned them, the more he started really… considering it.

It was so shameful. Primus, it was shameful. He’d barely ever interfaced in his life — there was just no time, especially not on Cybertron — and never with organics. After that one night where he’d hefted you up with ease in both servos and completely blanked when confronted with your soft, warm weight in his hold, he’d been on a spiral. It wasn’t just enough to be friendly with you; he was plenty friendly with Noah (though with the amount of stupid passes Mirage made at him, Noah would probably say too friendly) and he wanted something more with you.

He’d lost count of how many times he’d rolled into some long-abandoned warehouse or pitch-black deserted alley and scrabbled at his interface panel to pressurize his spike before he feverishly, frantically humped his fisted servo for relief, mental processors supplying increasingly filthy fantasies of your soft skin against his chassis and your mouth, Primus, your mouth on his own, on his spike, wherever, he didn’t care. Every single time, though, after coming down from his high with steam pouring off his lax frame, he felt just a little more discouraged than the last — because he knew that his fantasies would have to stay that way. Fantasies. Your friendship was enough, had to be, no matter how bad he wanted you, because he’d be damned to the Pit before he scared you off by being stupid and admitting his feelings.

Ugh. Ugh. He took another corner too hard and felt his tires shriek, let the burn travel upward and reverberate in his frame. The chaos in his mental processors quieted as he neared HQ. All he knew was that it was late, and he couldn’t be too loud or Prime would get on his ass for interrupting his stasis.

Can’t believe your dad made fun of you in front of me. Your voice played, unbidden, from some file that popped open in his memory bank. He willed it away with a vengeance as he rolled into the warehouse-turned-headquarters as quietly as he could, transforming as soon as the door was shut and stretching out his back. Clicking echoed off the walls as his spinal struts reset, and the residual burn in his scraped tires tingled.

Mirage turned, and—

Yelped. Bumblebee was standing right there, shoulder against the wall and fiddling with some holographic projection from his forearm. Mirage coughed into his clenched servo to preserve what was left of his dignity.

“‘Sup,” he greeted through gritted denta. “I, uh, didn’t see you there, man. How’s it hangin’?”

Bee gave him a flatly unamused look that communicated ‘No shit, you didn’t see me.’ very well. The projection phased out of existence and left the two of them in the dimmed space in some kind of standoff.

“Well, y’know, beauty stasis and everything, I’m just gonna—“

“I wanna know, what you’re feeling! Tell me what’s your mind!” burbled Bee’s radio in place of his voice. Mirage jerked back for a second, not expecting Information Society at whatever unholy hour of the morning it was.

“Look, man, I don’t really wanna talk about—“

“There are some things you can’t hide!” insisted the same song. Bee gestured for Mirage to talk. Clearly he wanted to know.

This was as good a time as ever to spill, he guessed.

Mirage groaned and clasped both of his servos over his face after explaining the bones of it, his head tilted upwards, optics fruitlessly searching the water-stained warehouse ceiling for a solution to his problem. His… very human, very embarrassing problem.

Not that he thought you were embarrassing— not at all, never. But Prime would have his head over falling for a human. Okay, well, maybe not his head; it was more like Mirage would be in for a lengthy disapproving speech about responsibilities and goals and distractions, and Primus, just thinking about it made the former option of decapitation the preferable one. Even though he seemed to approve of his choice, considering what he’d said earlier, the ‘Bots were still at war, and there wasn’t time for human distractions. Literal human distractions.

It wasn’t like he could help it. You were funny, okay? And smart. And you teased him in just the right way that made his cooling fans sputter, and you were so curious about… everything about him, he thought, remembering your impromptu Cybertronian anatomy lesson with a hot flash in his processor. He couldn’t help but be flattered by your attention.

“Ugh, Bee, I don’t know what to do, man,” he said despairingly after a moment, pacing in circles in front of said squat yellow bot leaned against the nearby concrete wall. “I mean, look at this, she’d be missin’ out if she said no,” he added, arrogance staining his words in an attempt to console himself. It didn’t work; insecurity eviscerated his bravado moments after he said it. “Or… I guess we’d both be, huh.” A short, self-deprecating laugh left him.

Mirage wasn’t entirely sure why he’d come to Bee of all bots for advice, but he was sure as shit not going to Optimus after today, and Arcee would have just told him anyway. Plus, considering that Wheeljack wasn’t even in the country at the moment, his options were slim. Besides, Bee had… experience with this sort of thing. Dealing with humans and all. Just… not in this way. But it was close enough, and Mirage was totally lost; if he thought about it by himself for any longer, his processors were going to fry.

Speaking of, Bee tittered through his gutted voice synthesizer to get Mirage’s attention. Expression drawn into a very human grimace, Mirage turned to face his friend, servos planted firmly on his hips.

“Well, you gotta tell her— wanna know what love is— want you to show me,” Bee’s radio clipped, first from a talk show, then from a nearby station, and Mirage felt energon surge to his face in a hot rush at a very personal song being blared back at him.

He had the words memorized at this point. The shape of them was practically burned into his memory files, considering how much he played it for you. It was reserved for days on both ends of the spectrum, bad and good; Mirage would pick you up in his alt-mode and take you for joyrides across the city, flying over the Brooklyn Bridge at daredevil speeds, all the while blaring music loud enough to make your head pound.

The two of you had discovered a few favorites, but the Foreigner song was at the top of the list, right next to Careless Whisper, of course. The sound of your voice belting at the top of your lungs, softened with that specific human accent, thrumming and reverberating through your chest— you sounded so alive, but so different from what he was accustomed to.

“Dude—” Mirage nearly barked, voice up a full octave before clearing his synthesizer into his fist and repeating himself. “Dude. I can’t just do that. Aliens— we’re aliens. Well. She’s an alien, too, I guess, but we,” he paused to gesture frantically between himself and Bee, “are the aliens here. I don’t really think humans are into the whole giant robot thing.”

“Noah?” Bee played a clip of Mirage’s own voice back at him questioningly.

“Yeah, well, Noah’s a different story.”

With a whir of his actuators, Bee shook his head and looked away for a moment, big blue optics considering the floor. With a soft clunk, he crossed his arms over his chassis.

“Come on, man, you gotta give me something,” Mirage urged, tilting his head to follow the other bot’s motions. “Should I just leave it? I mean, I don’t want it to be weird, I just—“

Bee straightened up off the wall, clearly done thinking. His arms opened out in a shrug and his optics squinted, communicating I don’t know what you want me to say, dude, far better than his vocal synthesizer ever could have.

His radio clipped again, this time a few seconds of a Beatles song and then Noah’s voice. “She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah— right?”

“I don’t know, that’s the problem,” Mirage groaned, rolling his head back with a pained expression and letting his body follow the motion as he paced another tight circle. His faceplates felt hot at the insinuation. “And if I ask, it’s gonna be weird. And if I make it weird, I’m never gonna—“

He stopped rambling when a four-digit servo thumped on the headlight atop his shoulder, rooting him to the spot. Bee’s optics stared him down, wide and bright blue, and it made Mirage press his lips together firmly as he awaited whatever sage advice he was about to impart.

ABBA filtered through the radio first. “Should walk right up to her and say—“ What came next made Mirage’s brow ridges shoot up so high he thought they were going to fly off his helmet. “—when I get that feeling, I want sexual healin’!”

Mirage’s jaw dropped. Immensely flustered and ten times more frustrated at his friend’s useless advice, he shoved the other bot off. “Are you serious, dude? Primus, I never shoulda asked you. Thanks, I’ll go walk right up to her and ask to interface on the warehouse floor, that’ll go super well.”

Bee nodded quickly and gave him a double thumbs up with a series of approving beeps and chirps, the bottoms of his optics flattening into an amused look. Mirage dragged his servo down his faceplates in mortification, although his cooling fans kicked on a click higher than normal.

Sometimes he wished he’d been left on Cybertron with Soundwave and all his other goons. This was one of those times. As he dropped back into his alt-mode with an embarrassed mumble about ‘going on patrol,’ Bee whooped behind him, and the last thing Mirage heard before peeling out of the warehouse was “There’s nothin’ wrong with me lovin’ you, baby, no, no!”

Whoever gave Bee access to Marvin Gaye needed to be whacked upside the helm.

Knowing Mirage’s luck, it was probably you.

He stayed out for the rest of the night in his alt-mode, wandering the streets and staying away from your apartment, no matter how bad he wanted to go. The pool of people with any useful advice to offer for his predicament was steadily shrinking; after the disaster with Bee, Mirage just needed to stay away from that warehouse and let his processors cool.

Sometime in the morning he returned, though not to the warehouse. He almost immediately crashed into stasis as soon as he rolled into Noah’s garage, his simultaneously pent-up and exhausted processors eager for a chance to refresh themselves and defrag.

Ha, he thought blearily as he sank into stasis. Defrag.

You were waking as he was crashing, though you weren’t happy about it. The eight hour shift that loomed ahead of you on top of the bullshit from last night was a pretty potent combination for a headache of a day, especially when you couldn’t have your morning jam sesh with Mirage on your way to work. Thankfully, though, your roommate was a kind soul, and there was an extra cup of coffee waiting for you on the counter when you stumbled out of your bedroom.

As you sipped it, you wondered just how long you could keep the front up. By some small grace of God, your roommate’s schedule didn’t align very well with yours; you barely saw them in your daily life even before you met Mirage. It wasn’t on purpose, of course. It just happened that way. But on a few occasions, they’d been home when Mirage had dropped you off, and you’d been just calling him a ‘friend with places to be’ to excuse the fact that he never walked you to your door. Being somewhat prescient, they’d nudged you a couple times about this ‘friend’ turning into a boyfriend, but had never pushed it.

You just hoped it stayed that way.

Breakfast was a quick and quiet affair, though you traded a few jokes back and forth that had the both of you giggling into your food. The ride to your job was similar, and your roommate wished you a good shift before driving off leisurely — such a stark difference compared to Mirage’s affinity for peeling off into the street at Mach-fucking-10. Thinking of him made your face burn and your mind race. You tried not to.

Time was an especially cruel mistress today, though. You swore that people were actively winding the clocks back every time you looked up at them, and your shift felt like a thick slog, knee-deep, that you had no choice but to wade through. The worst part about slow shifts was that your mind wandered with nothing else to do, and like a moth to a flame— or rather, like metal to a magnet, your brain circled around to Mirage again and again and again.

Damn that bot. Damn it all. Every time you thought of him, it was some stupid joke he’d cracked or silly offhand comment he’d made or ridiculous flirt he’d lobbed your way — always accompanied by memories of his body, surprisingly lithe considering what he was made of, all legs and a dramatic waist topped with wide shoulders that made your own engine purr.

“Mirage, did you go upstate or something? You’re disgusting,” you’d laughed as you raked your gaze over his pecs, pretending to eye the dirt smeared there and not something else.

“Disgusting?! You gotta be kidding me, I’m not half as bad as the rest of ‘em. You should see Bee, dude!” He’d gestured out the door of the warehouse, where you assumed the other bot was lurking in dirt-covered shame.

“What the hell were you two even doing?”

“Pfft. Practicin’.”

“Practicing body-slamming each other?”

“Yeah, want me to show you?”

“Mirage,” you’d groaned, laughing despite yourself.

“C’mon, I know a few good ways to pin a bot down,” he grinned, winking at you. You fixed him with the most dead stare you could muster before breaking into a half-smile of your own.

“I’ll pass on the whole getting crushed thing, but I could be persuaded to spray you down by hand,” you flirted back, just for fun.

No, not for fun. Real flirt. It was real, all of it was, and you couldn’t shake the memory of his optics widening, brightening, with eagerness and the way he’d pleaded. Playfully. Playfully?

“Please,” he begged dramatically, clasping his servos together, optics enormous. “I’ll be good! Maybe even stay still!”

You pinched your nose bridge between your fingers and tried to think about something else, because you were starting to press your thighs together a little and you were still at work, damn it. Professionalism was something you were aiming to maintain.

Hot. It was hot. That’s what you were thinking about. You’d glanced at the weather report earlier in the morning, and seeing a row of little sun icons clued you in on an insufferable heatwave that didn’t have any intention of breaking any time soon. Even now you felt sweat collect under your shirt and dot your hairline; all you could do was wipe your face with the back of your hand and keep working.

And working.

And. Working.

And then, eventually, you watched the clock tick over the last minute of your shift, and you heard angels sing a holy choir as you all but slammed your things down and sprinted to clock out. Well. You didn’t sprint, but you did speed walk, which counted for something.

Such was your haste to leave your workplace and talk to Mirage that you speed-walked headfirst into the lashing rain outside without a second thought. Genuinely caught by surprise, you stumbled back into the safety of the entryway, eyes wide as you watched the storm front swallow the last dregs of the golden evening sky and pour rain on the streets outside. Ink blots bleeding across paper. Rorschach tests. Some other poetic fluff came to mind over the supremely annoying realization that you were going to have to walk to the garage in wet clothes.

At least it was a quick walk.

Patience waning, you nearly considered calling Mirage — or even Noah — to come get you, but at the last second your roommate swooped in, pulling up outside and honking the horn a few times to let you know your knight in shining Prius was here to rescue you.

They cracked a few jokes at your expense when they saw your wet clothes, but it was nothing you couldn’t handle. Not after the trials and tribulations of Mirage. With a few clicks, the rest of your ride home was filled with Boyz II Men and intermittent conversation as you watched raindrops race each other down the window and considered what the hell you were going to say to Mirage tonight.

Mostly, you were dying of curiosity to know what Prime had meant to get him so flustered. Thinking about that, though, just made you go down a spiral of what-ifs… especially considering that one of them was ‘What if he feels the same way?’

You could handle rejection. You were an adult who paid taxes. But just this one time, you weren’t sure if you could handle reciprocation. Especially full reciprocation.

Mirage’s friendship was something you felt privileged to have. You were just quite scared to fuck it all up and lose out on all the things that made being his friend worth it — including him. Jaw tightening, you blinked and looked away from the window. No use stewing in it.

At home, your dinner was quick and light — something in a Tupperware that you didn’t look at too hard after microwaving. When your roommate asked about your rush, you came up with some lame excuse about hanging out with Noah, waving your hand dismissively.

Don’t worry about me. I’m going to go break Hynek’s scale of close encounters. Don’t worry about it though.

“In this weather? You’ll be soaked thirty seconds out the door. You were soaked thirty seconds out the door.”

“I’ll bring an umbrella,” you said, barely listening to them over the cacophony of your own thoughts. Mirage. Mirage. Mirage. I’m seeing him tonight. I’m talking to him tonight. I’m not going to pussy out of anything tonight. Now or never. “The place is like two blocks up the street, I’ll live.”

“If you’re so inclined to catch a cold, I’m not gonna stop you. Not making you chicken soup, though.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you snarked affectionately, and the last thing you heard before exiting your apartment was their familiar laughter. That bolstered you somewhat.

Even if the rain whipping at your face made you reconsider your stupid horny stubbornness.

Only two blocks felt more like two dozen as you tucked your chin to your chest and gripped your hood to keep the wind from snatching it off your head; in your other hand you white-knuckled your umbrella to keep it from tilting the wrong angle and washing water down your back. Thunder rattled your bones more than once and made you think offhandedly of Kris, the poor kid. He hated storms but refused to admit it out of pride; he was probably curled up in a ball under his covers right now trying to block out the worst of the noise. And you thought of Noah alongside him just out of pure association, and you weren’t sure what made your stomach turn, but it did.

God, you hoped Noah wasn’t with Mirage right now. You didn’t want to slam the door open to the garage soaking wet and wrestle Mirage’s true feelings out of him while Noah spectated. Wrestle. Soaking wet.

Fuck my life.

The side door to the garage was jammed like it always was, even after you unlocked it, and you huddled against it to stay under the mediocre cover of the awning as you shoved your shoulder into it to force it open. Old metal hinges wailed as you ground them open, and the blessed dry warmth of the garage — the temperature always heightened with Mirage’s presence — sighed against your freezing skin as you wormed your way inside.

“Mirage?” you called tentatively as you leaned back against the door to get it to shut and latch. A beat passed before your senses came to you and your hand fumbled behind you to lock it. Not for sordid reasons, honestly. You just didn’t want anyone to even have the chance of walking in on Mirage when he wasn’t folded into a Porsche.

Speaking of, you saw him then, pacing around the garage and seemingly very involved in a conversation with himself. Although the rain outside provided a dull roar of background noise, the whirs and clicks of his actuators and soft whooms of his pedes against the concrete filled your ears with their familiarity. It was Mirage, and you knew Mirage, and it helped dull the edge of abject nervousness in your gut.

He cut a sharp figure under the hanging ceiling lights, making sure to duck and avoid smacking his helm on them. When those bright blue optics registered your existence, you swore they flared with delight; he said your name with such enthusiasm it almost made you excited. For what, exactly, you didn’t know. “Hey, sugar, what’s k— Primus, you, uh, swim on your way here? Or do I just make you that wet? Cuz I appreciate the compliment.” He grinned wolfishly at you. Sparks flew off your rubbed-raw nerves.

The unimpressed stare you gave him was lethal. “That is not how that works,” you said, shaking your umbrella off on the floor and setting it against the wall to drip dry. “All the wetness is— would be in one place, dumbass.”

“Sorry. Wasn’t paying attention during my anatomy lessons. Wanna reteach ‘em to me? I’ll behave, swear on my spark.”

A scoff. “When have you ever behaved in your life?”

“When it counts! C’mon, you know you like it,” he said, gesturing down the length of his body with a flourish of his servo. “I mean, what isn’t there to like?”

“If I answer that question, I’ll hurt your feelings.” Excess rainwater dripped off your jacket as you peeled it off. Mirage’s optics followed the motion intently.

Amber lighting nearly glowed against the sleek metal of his torso. So what if your own eyes had wandered down it at his emphasis? He’d invited it. Expressly. He loved your attention, loved flaunting everything about himself just for a glance his way from you, for anything you’d give him.

It took him a second to register your words. He gasped and clasped a servo over his chassis— his spark, you remembered that from your own anatomy lesson a few weeks ago. “Gonna break my spark talkin’ like that. I hurt your feelings or something, sugar? What’s got you so bent?” With his question, he sank into a deep squat, draping his forearm over his thigh and leaning close to you.

A deep exhale left you. Your shoulders deflated. “It’s not you. Just the weather.” A short huff of a laugh, barely humorous, left you. “I mean, look at me.” You held your arms out and spun in a slow circle, errant droplets flying in every direction. “I look like a drowned rat.”

The lightbulb over his head was nearly visible. “You, uh, want a hand drying off?”

You stopped dead in your tracks. Your hands fell to your sides. Something akin to lightning danced up your spine.

“What?”

“Hold on, hold on, I got an idea,” he said, holding his hand out at you to tell you to wait, excitement ramping up in his voice. What the hell was he planning? Nothing good, you figured. Or hoped.

Otherwise harsh sounds of metal against metal were softened by the alien chirrs and trills of the mechanical viscera working in his chassis as he settled on the ground in a sitting position. His back was leaned against the wall, carefully adjusted so his darling paint job was away from the rough concrete. To keep his balance, he rested against his tires and scooched his hips away from the wall, kicking his long legs out with a flourish and gesturing at his lap.

Although he was shorter this way, it was still a climb you didn't want to make while you were damp and the general slip hazard was high. “Can you give me a lift so I can see whatever shit you’re planning?”

“I got you, sugar, don’t even worry about it. Just hang on,” came the reply, and your brain blanked just a little at the feeling of his servos on you again, picking you up just like they had done on that night two weeks ago. With zero effort — seriously, you didn’t even hear any mechanical creaking — you were scooped upwards.

Your damp clothes clung to your body, a fact both you and Mirage were painfully aware of; the chill of the soaked fabric contrasted against that fascinating living heat of your skin nearly made the sensors in his servos short-circuit. He’d thought about this, exactly this, so much that it had probably worn a path into his neural processors. So soft. You were so soft.

A shudder ran up his spinal strut and he prayed you didn’t notice.

You were set down with your feet firmly on the flat tops of his thighs, ignoring the slight wobble in your knees. Arms raised a bit for balance, you looked down at the living machinery beneath you. The flight paths of the butterflies in your stomach grew more frantic. Broad servos released you from their hold, but they didn’t leave; no, they skated down, down, down until they settled on the flare of your hips and stayed. They were so heavy.

A breath caught in your throat like a wild animal in a trap. “If I fall, I’m gonna be so pissed off. You know that, right?” Anything to make this more normal. You had no idea how you kept the shake out of your voice.

“Relaaax, hot stuff, I’m on it. I got it, I got it,” he replied, his voice a full octave lower than what you were used to. “‘sides, I’m Mirage, remember? Protecting humans is kinda my thing.”

You scoffed. “Not with the way you drive.”

“Hey, I drive perfectly fine! You’re the one who’s scared of fun.” His servos left your hips to brace themselves on the floor. “Mirage, don’t drive so fast! Mirage, that’s a red light! Mirage, there are cops behind us!” His voice pitched up into something high and nasally to poorly, poorly mimic yours.

It was your turn to be affronted, though your mouth was open in a disbelieving sort of smile. “I don’t even sound like that, you fucker! And sorry for trying to keep us from getting arrested!”

“I dunno, you all sorta sound the same to our audio processors.” He was lying, and blatantly so. He had the distinct tone and pitch of your voice memorized down to the wavelength. “And besides, we wouldn’t get arrested.” His own voice took on a smug, self-satisfied edge, accompanied by the raise of his brow ridges.

“Oh, really? Why’s that? Please, enlighten me,” you snarked, crossing your arms over your chest and staring him down. In response, he leaned his head in, closer to you, closer than you expected, and an insufferable smirk crawled across his faceplates.

“Cuz cop cars can’t drive that fast,” he whispered conspiratorially, like it was a clever response.

What should have been a minute movement — just a shift of the head — actually became very noticeable on a twelve-foot-frame; his hips repositioned of their own accord to account for the redistribution of weight, and the change was enough to trip you up. Especially when you had been leaning in already to match his movement.

The world tilted as you started to fall forward; fearing injury or worse by tumbling off your semi-precarious perch, you jammed your hands out in front of you—

And slammed your palms directly on his chassis. It was all very fast after that. Mortified, you stared down at the planes of metal beneath you, feeling heat creep up, up, up your neck and seep into your face. Mirage had cursed above you out of surprise, and you felt the displacement of air as his servo shot up behind your back and hovered. Right there. He was right there, and he always would be.

You raised your head and made eye contact, and you knew it was over. His optics were wide with surprise, and they searched your face for any expression of pain or discontent. They cycled once, seeing none, and then flickered down to your lips.

He was so done for. Something in his expression sagged at your proximity; in his field of view, he saw an alert stating that his internal temperature was rising beyond ideal levels, and he would have laughed if not for you. Finally. Finally. Finally. He was half-expecting this to be a dream, something cooked up by his fried processors that he would wake up from any minute now.

His servo was still hovering over your back.

“Can I—“

“Yes,” you said immediately in a sharp exhale — before he could even get the question out — and there it all went.

He surged forward like a flood from a dam, closing the distance between the both of you with a hungry rev of his engine. Explaining the logistics of it would sound silly; all you could do was go with the flow, just like every other time you’d ever kissed someone. All you knew was that it was satisfying, supremely so, and completely encompassing. Every sense was filled by him, and you realized with a kick of your heart that you never wanted it any other way.

Though your hand shook, you shoved past the fear and indulged in everything you had wanted for weeks, let yourself sink deep into that pit of want and refused to come up for air. Your fingers skated his curves and edges; you brought your palm up to the sharp angles of his jaw and smoothed it upward until it ran over the curve of his cheek.

He reacted to your touch like it was a live wire. Minute jerks of excitement ran through his frame, and when your hand rested on the side of his face, he tilted his helm into the kiss with barely restrained excitement. He was so careful, it made something inside you purr. That kind of caution was only reserved for something precious. You were precious. He couldn’t ever risk hurting you. Especially not by his own hand.

First impression was that his lips were far softer than you’d ever assumed. Pliable, hot metal pressed greedily against your mouth — more, more, more was a mantra echoed wordlessly between the both of you. The hovering servo came to rest on your back, pushing your front against his chassis as you shifted up on your toes to keep the angle of the kiss correct. Digits splayed against the planes of skin they found there, pressing down to feel your warmth — your heart slammed against your ribs so hard that Mirage could probably feel it against his palm.

With a hot flash, you wondered if the metal of his lips would bear the dent of your teeth from a bite. So you bit. It was more of a playful nip than anything, but the reaction you got was so instantaneous it was like Mirage had been waiting for it. Again, his engine throttled, the powerful rumble surging through you as his servo pinned you to his chassis. Against your mouth, his lips ticked up into a smile.

Air. You needed air. He let you pull away with no resistance, though his head did trail after your mouth for a moment.

You let your forehead sink down and rest against the top of his chassis for a moment; the condensation from your breath fogged the metal. Out of nowhere, manic giggles erupted from you. They shook your body incessantly as you rose and fell in time with Mirage’s heavy vents, your knees feeling weak and mind frazzled. From one kiss. One.

Laughter rocked his frame too, short chuckles of disbelief as his thumb rubbed circles into your back.

“Oh my god,” you murmured into the warm metal beneath you through shocks of giggles.

“Not exactly, but, eh, I’ll take it,” Mirage replied above you, and while he laughed at his own joke, you groaned and whacked him lightly with a palm. It wasn’t like he was unaffected though — far from it, in fact, judging from the steadily heating chassis beneath you and the tinge of static fringing his words.

“Bring me up,” you said hoarsely, twisting an arm behind you to paw at the servo on your back.

Without question, his other servo came up and curled under your thighs, hoisting you up so that his face was easier to reach. With most of your body now resting on his chassis and very much secured in his grip, you grasped his face in both your palms; he leaned so far into your touch with a shaky ex-vent that your noses almost brushed.

“Again?”

“Yeah, again,” he agreed, and this time you pulled him in, fingers hooking in some unseen seam behind his jaw as you crushed your mouth against his. Hunger, latent and now finally triggered, drove you closer, as close as you physically could, until your skin was starting to hurt from the random edges being pressed into it.

Curious above all else, you licked your tongue into the front of his mouth. The searing heat inside surprised you; it teetered on the edge of uncomfortable and reminded you very much of your computer at home when it ran for too long, with that special kind of mechanical stress and burning warmth that only came with overworked processors.

“‘S like that, is it?” he murmured into your mouth with a grin, his engine kicking up a notch and the vibration of his chassis hitting you very nicely right where you needed it most. You made some soft noise, half-gasp, half-groan, and hiked one of your legs up so it was bent at the knee, flattening your hips against his chest and fuck, there it was. The consistent rumble of his motor pressed a steady vibration right into your cunt over the seam of your jeans; a particular grind made you gasp and falter as you rolled your clit against the line of denim and held it there.

“Whoa-ho-ho! Heyyy, hot stuff, something feel good down there?” His voice was bursting at the seams with some rich kind of excitement; you breathed into his neck cabling as your hips jerked a little against his chassis. One servo pawed at your ass, clumsy with its eagerness, gripping and massaging the soft flesh it found there with intent.

Experimentally, his servo pressed down, pushing your pelvis down with it, and the pressure on your clit pulled a groan of satisfaction out of you that had his cooling fans sputter.

“Fuck,” you hissed through gritted teeth, and before he could say something stupid, you leaned your head down and pressed kisses to the delicate cabling of his neck.

A delighted noise rattled out of him, and his helm rolled back against the wall to allow you more access. Impatient, your kisses soon turned to bites, playful nips that tugged at the sensitive wiring and made his body jolt beneath yours like he’d been shocked. To your utter delight, you found that Mirage’s proclivity for talking extended to situations like these, too — noises streamed from his mouth as your curious teeth and hands worked over such a fragile part of his anatomy in ways that only a human could.

“Oh, Primus, babe, babe—“ he stammered out, and you lifted your head for just long enough of a window to allow him to swoop down and kiss you again, feverishly now.

Something thick and wet prodded past your teeth experimentally. For just a second you balked— and then remembered it was his glossa. His tongue. Yeah, you remembered that from your anatomy lesson; he’d stuck it out and pointed at it in a dumb way then, but fuck if it didn’t have your thighs tightening now. The hot biomesh probed your mouth, and it was so big you inadvertently drooled around it — but Mirage didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, you were pretty sure the spit dripping from your mouth around him was getting him even more worked up, judged by the way his digits tightened their grip on your ass.

You had been cold when you’d walked in that garage. Keyword there was had. Now your skin seared with a deep flush and steadily increasing heat; mindlessly, your hips started a slow, staccato rhythm that kept your breathing heavy. The servo on your back slid upwards to the point where it encompassed the back of both your neck and head. He could not get enough of your taste. He wanted it burned into the sensors on his glossa, for all he cared. Spit and lubricant swapped between the both of your mouths — you found that the metallic taste that seeped into your tongue did nothing but turn you on further.

Pulling away again for a deep inhale of air, you propped yourself semi-awkwardly on an elbow to look at him. Open adoration was written across his faceplates, along with blatant want that made his optics cycle frantically.

“I thought you were— fuck, I thought you were supposed to be drying me off,” you said, breaking in the middle of your sentence as his servo carefully started to move you. Just barely — just enough pressure to keep your hips working against him and chasing your pleasure.

“You really wanna?” He grinned at you, spit shiny on his chin. “I dunno about you, but I think I’m likin’ you being wet more.”

“You’re awful. That was terrible,” you laughed, brain foggy with arousal and general swelling affection for the bot underneath you.

“How many more of those you got left in you before you start admitting the truth that I’m the funniest bot you’ll ever meet?”

“I mean, you don’t exactly have stiff competition.”

“Aaand the best-looking.”

“I dunno… Optimus is kind of—“

“Hey!” he interrupted, bringing you up for another kiss to silence your thought before you could finish it. You happily complied, laughing into the heat of his mouth and then moaning in the same breath as his servo ground you down against his rumbling chassis again.

Hot. You were getting really hot. The damp clothes sticking to your skin were not helping; in fact, they felt as though they were going to start steaming being pressed against your skin like this. Against your wishes, you pulled backwards again, bracing yourself against the warm vents that substituted for his collarbones. They cycled hot, dry air against your fingertips, though it didn’t burn. Not yet, at least.

“Mirage,” you breathed, and that got his attention immediately. “…Are we fucking?”

“Please,” he instantly replied, so eager that it made your cunt throb. His enormous blue optics watched you with such intent that it almost made you want to shrink away from the scrutiny — but you steeled your resolve. You had him, and you had him right where you wanted. Opportunity of a fucking lifetime. You were not about to waste it.

You glanced down for a reprieve from the eye contact. “Fuck,” you swore softly, staring at the metalwork beneath you for a few heartbeats before shaking your head and glancing back upwards at him. “Okay, well— I— Okay. Let me just— do this—“

Hands shaking slightly, you balled your fists in the hem of your work shirt and wrestled it up and off you; the damp fabric lingered and peeled off of you, which made Mirage’s motor throttle powerfully underneath you. Other than that, though, you got no reaction, which made all that heat in your abdomen cool rapidly into a dense ball of abject horror.

Oh, you made a mistake. This was too much, you were too alien, too different—

The servo not supporting you against his chassis slid around from the planes of your back to your front, and you gasped sharply as he did the same fucking thing that drove you insane the first time, however many days ago. His thumb, warm on the palm-side, gently passed over the peak of your chest. His optics narrowed in on the indent in your soft flesh his digit created. Nerve endings in the trail it left behind sparked.

“Oh, you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” he said reverently, voice steeped in a combination of awe and victory.

Oh-kay! You sucked a deep breath in, a litany of responses running through your head. The boost to your ego was very much appreciated, and it helped lighten the sinking mass of worry that had formed in the pit of your stomach.

Mirage nearly groaned when you placed your soft palm atop the junction of his digit and the heel of his servo. “Do it again,” you decided on, and that worked damn well.

As his servo groped at your chest, he leaned in, tucking his face under your jaw. To accommodate, you tilted your head up and away—

Only to swear into negative space as he very much returned the favor from earlier and began carefully sucking the world’s biggest hickeys into the skin of your neck. Breaths came harsh and choppy as the expanse of his glossa, hot and spit-slick, laved over the gentle bites he worried into your skin with his denta.

“Ah, Mirage, Mirage,” you breathed; every mention of his name spilling from your bruised lips made his circuitry heat just a little more. It was so much all at once — his servos were so broad that their expanse covered huge swaths of skin at once, and his mouth on such a sensitive part of your anatomy wasn’t helping either. Your hands clawed for purchase against his helm and the back of his neck. One palm flattened as much as it could on the back of his head, trying with all of your laughable human strength to bring him as close as possible. The other ended up cradling the side of his head, your thumb brushing over the audial disk there. With no small amount of wonder, you watched the plates of his back ruffle at your touch.

Mirage wasn’t trying to be weird, but he could die happy so long as he had the taste of your skin still registering on his glossa. It was more addictive than any high-grade he’d had back home by leagues. That human flavor of salt and skin and some kind of sweetness had his processors thrumming at maximum capacity; you made his mouth flood with lubricant, a fact you could corroborate by the amount that spilled over your bare sternum. The feeling of his own spit sliding down your front between your bruised breasts made the muscles of your abdomen twitch. Fingers shaped like claws now, you pressed weak kisses against the smooth curves of his helm wherever you could reach.

Your jeans were just getting in the way at this point. The minute shocks of pleasure you derived from grinding your clit against the inseam were just that — minute. You needed something more now or you were going to get frustrated, and you’d dealt with enough sexual frustration over the past weeks to be very sick of that feeling.

“Oh, fuck, okay— Mirage,” you said breathlessly, giving him a light tap on the side of his helm to get his attention. Reluctantly, he pulled away from your chest, optics dimmed with pleasure. They cycled once and returned to their full brightness as he cleared the fog of arousal — barely — away from his processors.

“All systems go, sugar?” Static hissed underneath his words.

You tried and failed to stifle a snort of a laugh. “Corny ass,” you mumbled, although you were absolutely close enough for his audial sensors to pick up on it. He made a sound of indignation, but you pushed forward regardless. “I, um, I need to get these off.” Hooking your thumbs in the waistband of your jeans to emphasize your point, you glanced up at his optics again.

Blankness for a second. Then it registered. “Oh, right, right, of course, haha! You, uh, want help? Or you got it?”

“I think I can manage taking my pants off,” you laughed. “Just— let me sit on like— the top of your chest, there we go,” you instructed, and the hand under your ass pushed you up until you were turned around and seated on the lip of the top of his chassis. For a second, you wrestled with the denim — still not fully dried — but you managed to kick both your jeans and your shoes off. They were thrown somewhere in the direction of the door. God, you were so glad you locked it.

Underwear went next. There was a beat of hesitation — for what, you weren’t sure — but like you’d done so often as of late, you just ignored your trepidation and worked the elastic down your legs. A laugh barked out of you when you lifted the fabric up and saw the downright ridiculous wet spot that stained the gusset.

“Jesus Christ, look what you did to me,” you said with a faux accusatory tone, holding your panties out for Mirage to inspect. Two digits delicately took them from you; he held them up to his face, so close that it made you blush from sheer embarrassment.

“Wow. You weren’t kiddin’ ‘bout all the wet being in one spot, huh?” He examined them with no small amount of fascination, much to your mortification.

“Mirage! Put those down, oh my god,” you said, covering your mouth with a choked noise.

“What, I can’t admire my work?”

“No you can not.”

Mirage pouted at your denial, and mumbled something about you being no fun, but he still lifted you off his chassis regardless. Like he was helpless to your draw, he pulled you in for another kiss, though he couldn’t stop his mouth from wandering. Down, down, down, until his nose was nestled in your chest and he spoke into the soft flesh of your stomach. Shaky ex-vents tickled the damp skin there.

“Shit, baby, tastes so good,” he mumbled, and you were impressed by his ability to sound completely sex-drunk without even having done anything yet.

Your hips rolled against nothing; they bumped into his neck cabling and the top of his chassis fruitlessly, and a noise of frustration eked out of you. Mirage seemed to get the memo and pulled you away. Your body was brought down until your ass was sat firmly on his hips — his interface panel nestled right in front of your dripping cunt — and your back was leaned up against the flat support of his thighs; his knees were tucked up and his pedes placed firm and flat on the floor to give you the most stability. Fumbling for a second before you found somewhere to place your own feet, the enormity and absurdity of the situation brought more of those breathless giggles to your mouth that seized your chest and shook your shoulders.

Toootally breaking Hynek’s scale here. So beyond abduction. Way beyond abduction.

A few careful digits slipped around your knee, wormed their way between your legs. “Can I—“

Your thighs fell open without a word.

What had made you fall for Mirage the hardest was his motormouth. He never stopped talking; he always had something stupid to add, something to pitch in with, some silly joke to crack. There was a lightness he teased out of you that even you didn’t expect. But now? Now, for once, he was speechless. It made uncharacteristic shyness flare in your gut and heat your face as he studied your very bare, very human form with slightly parted lips and enormous optics.

His body caught up before his mouth did. The servo on your knee slid over it until it gripped your bare thigh; he watched the flesh shift back and forth under his touch with no small amount of fascination.

“Is it— it’s okay?” Your voice sounded very small. It was a special kind of insecurity to be faced with.

“Oh, yeah, it’s okay. It’s cool, you’re just— just different. A lot different.” He jiggled your thigh again playfully.

“Good kind of different though, right?”

“Very good.” To punctuate it, his engine snarled again, seemingly in response to the drool of your cunt on the hot metal of his interface panel. “Primus, you look good, babe. Shit.”

Ego boost! You smiled. Any other partner — any person — and this would be too much, this position too unflattering, your everything too open… With Mirage, though, it just felt like it always did. Easy.

One of your hands rested atop the servo still holding onto the meat of your thigh. The other slid down over your shining chest, passed over your stomach and pubic mound, and brushed past wiry hair, shiny with slick, in order to slide a finger up your folds. A whine ripped its way out of you at direct contact with your clit after mere heavy petting, and you couldn’t stop yourself from drawing tight circles with your fingers and twitching your hips forward to eke out more of that delicious pressure.

The servo on your thigh dug into your skin. Mirage’s vents became far heavier at the open display of your arousal; it has always been him vying for your attention. Now that it was the other way around, he wasn’t sure if he could handle it. Transfluid was seeping between the seams of his interface panel, joining your own fluids in a shiny pool that sent sparks up his struts. He made you like this, made you so wet you dripped, made your clit swollen enough to be visible, made your cunt tight with heat and Primus, he needed you on his spike so bad, he thought he might die without it.

He verbalized these thoughts with an unintelligible noise of adoration.

It was enough encouragement for you to slide down from your clit and venture two fingers into yourself. Zero friction. They glided. Christ, when was the last time you were this wet? You’d slept with a handful of people, especially in your first couple years of college, but you’d never been soaked like this. Mirage’s cooling fans choked at the sight of your fingers vanishing into you. His thumb dug into the crease of your thigh and hip as he leaned just a little closer to watch.

Very little time passed before it devolved into your fingers working inside your walls, crooking against that one spot that made your breath hitch and hips jump. Mindlessly, you ground against your palm, catching your clit on the heel of your hand with a sweet moan that nearly shorted out his processors. He had to hear that again. Without thinking, he moved his servo over, resting the digits on your lower stomach and gently, gently nudging the heel of your hand out of the way to replace it with his thumb.

“Ah!” spilled from your lips at the insistent, broad pressure of his thumb, and your hips jerked against it, working your fingers that much deeper. Tears pricked at your eyes from pure sensation. “Mirage, mmm, just— just rub, up and down— or circles, just move, I don’t ca—are,” you floundered, the last word breaking as he did as he was told, carefully sliding his thumb up and down on the bead of your clit and sending twinges of searing pleasure up your spine.

You found quickly that just your fingers weren’t enough. Not when the reminder of his servo lay heavily on your lower stomach, tips of his digits digging into the soft fat there insistently. Although you were loath to part with your hand, you pulled your fingers out with a sigh. Mirage froze, optics flicking to your shiny hand as you spread your fingers, examining the strings of fluid that connected them with a far-off feeling of pride.

“Sugar, you’re killin’ me here,” he groaned, and you saw, for one endearing second, a puff of actual steam rise from the vents near his shoulders as he ex-vented harshly.

“Okay, well, here,” you said, unable to come up with anything clever with the purr of arousal in your cunt fanned by the heat of his interface plate and consistent, maddening rumble of his engine. Your hand, still shiny and wet with your fluids, grasped the top of his servo and gently pushed it downwards, until the tips of his digits rested against your drooling entrance. To fight the whimper that threatened to claw its way out of your throat, you nearly chewed a gash into the inside of your cheek. A gasp of an in-vent jolted his frame in awe.

“You sure? I mean— it’s cool?” His flustered stammering was so damn endearing; supreme affection for him swelled in your chest.

“I’m sure. Just— just go slow.” His adoration was fueling your bravery. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you; if he did, it would never be intentional, and it would never be something he couldn’t fix.

He paused for a second before remembering the position of your own hand and flipping his servo so it was palm side up; you dragged a large enough breath in to balloon your lungs fully at the sight. Anticipation danced in the burn of your spread thighs. For a few seconds, it was just exploration; his digits slid over your silky folds, collecting the gathered slick with minute trembles. One delicious slide all the way up from entrance to clit had you gasping. Mirage silently thanked Primus above that your whole set-up was similar enough to his valve to know at least some of his way around it. It was just hotter. Wetter. Softer. So much softer.

“‘Raj, just— fuuuck,” you groaned out, your head rolling back as the tip of one digit sank into you, soon followed by the rest as it slid all the way to the base. Stars flickered behind your eyelids. The width matched the two fingers put together you’d just pulled out of yourself, though the texture was so wildly different to anything you’d ever put up there that it made your brain stutter for several moments as your nerve endings processed the feeling. The individual ridges and articulations of his knuckles dragged against the silk of your walls in a way that pulled the breath right out of you; your chest rose and fell rapidly with shallow breaths as your thighs twitched.

You were a mess. Mirage was in love. “Holy shit, baby, I get you this bad?” It was only partly teasing. “l— fuck, a second one good?”

“Good, yes, please.”

All thoughts were wiped clean from the forefront of your brain with the addition of a second digit. Slick noises and the sound of dripping fluids landing on metal and concrete filled your ears over the steadily climbing racket that Mirage’s entire body was making — his cooling fans competed with his engine to make the most noise, over top of the typical whirs and clicks that came with his motion. You couldn’t look, could only feel with your eyes squeezed shut as Mirage pumped both digits in and out, in and out, in and out. One arm was thrown up behind you, hooking loosely around his knee to ground you somewhere. The other was occupied: your hand clutched his wrist like a lifeline, white-knuckling it even as your sweaty palm slipped over the metal cuff. When his thumb returned to your clit, swirling clumsy but eager circles on top of it, that only contributed to the tight, hot coil building in your gut.

Mirage had half a mind to pop his interface panel right then and service himself, because the sight of you, shining with sweat and slick with his spit as you rode his digits, was almost too much to bear. The plush folds of your cunt, tight with arousal, were so soft against the hard planes of metal that comprised his servos; the contrast was short-circuiting him. Under his paneling, his spike was already pressurized. Had been for what felt like hours. Your ass was beginning to slide back and forth just a little due to the transfluid collecting underneath you; the rippling motion of your flesh was driving him insane. As were your walls, Primus, your walls that sucked greedily around his digits as they glided in and out of the tight ring of muscle that made up your entrance.

Your name left his lips in a groan that was an octave too high to be suave. The thought of your cunt clamping down on his spike — so soft, so hot, so wet — like it was doing on his digit had his hips rolling against nothing, working fruitlessly for friction they weren’t getting.

Sweat collected wherever skin touched skin. Condensation fogged wherever skin touched metal. The combination of his digits stretching you, curling in you when he realized what a dramatic reaction it incurred, and his thumb working your clit was getting to be too much. Heartbeat roaring in your ears like the rain outside, you clawed a grip into a seam in his leg and jerked your hips against his servo with breathy noises and gasps that you certainly wouldn’t be proud of later. For now, though, all it did was fuel Mirage’s ego and go straight to his spike.

Almost there. You were almost there, grinding your way towards it, sweat beading on your hot skin—

He pulled out. He pulled his digits out. A keen tore out of you at the loss of feeling, tears springing to your eyes as the hot edge you were so fucking close to fell away, your hips working unconsciously against a servo no longer there. With a gasp of a breath, you wrenched your eyes open, blinking away the collected tears and nearly baring your teeth at the bot beneath you — until you saw what he was doing.

In utter astonishment, you watched as the digits that were just inside you slid into his mouth, peeks of his glossa flashing as it worked them clean.

“Oh fuck,” you said before you could stop yourself. One of your hands slapped over your mouth; you tasted sweat and metal. His optics slid to you, lidded and cycling frantically as he processed your taste. A harsh ex-vent slumped his shoulders — the servo not preoccupied with his mouth clutched your hip like you were something precious.

“Sugar,” he breathed, static grating on the word. “Fuck, c’mere.”

Servos hefted you up, and you clutched onto them out of instinct as he helped you up to his face. Without thinking, you lunged forward to kiss, your tongue seeking out his glossa and tasting yourself with a resurging thrum of arousal. He cut it short, though, ignoring your protests as he cupped your ass in one servo and held you aloft.

For a second, you stared at him in confusion. “What are you—“ Then it hit you. “Oh.” Your heart rate skyrocketed.

The grin stretching his faceplates was downright devious. “Hang onto something, wouldja? Not that you’re gonna fall. Just want you to enjoy the ride.” A short, heady chuckle rounded out his words.

“You’re insane— oh!” Your lighthearted scold was immediately interrupted by the press of your hips against his face and the slide of his slick glossa over the entirety of your sex. “Oh my fuck!” sobbed out of you as your upper body jackknifed over his helm. One arm curled around it with clawing fingers; the other slammed, palm flat, against the concrete wall.

A groan of satisfaction rumbled into your cunt as the taste of salt and sweat and girl bloomed on his glossa — just like earlier but so much stronger now. The proud line of his nose bumped your clit for a second before his glossa followed, narrowing so he could flick at it experimentally. Lubricant spilling from his mouth mixed with your own slick and ran down his chin; his cooling fans sputtered and spun weakly for a second as he pushed up further against your hips, malleable mesh drawing shapes between your clit and your hole.

Your fingernails scraped against the wall as your hips jerked of their own accord; the edge stolen from you earlier had very much returned, and the feeling of his faceplates sliding over the plush, soft skin of your inner thighs was doing something terrible to you.

“Mirage, ah, ah— I’m— fuck, fuck!” Broken syllables and curses streamed from your lips as a substitute for real words. When he closed his lips around your clit and sucked, it was over. It was so quick, embarrassingly quick. The orgasm that had been building suddenly snapped free and tore through you like a fucking hurricane, leaving spasming muscles and a wonderful endorphin afterglow in its wake. As you sobbed out his name, he slid two digits of his free servo back into you just to give you something to clamp down on, and it made tears spill down your burning cheeks from pure stimulus. Mirage drank you; he wanted nothing more than this, to swallow you down and leave your taste buzzing on his glossa like high-grade. Several thundering heartbeats later found you hunched over his helm as his glossa continued to work lazily against you, forcing twitches out of your thighs from pure overstimulation.

“Okay, okay,” you managed to croak, voice hoarse from weeping moans and boneless from what was probably one of the most insane finishes of your life. You tapped out weakly on the side of his helmet. Reluctantly, he pulled your pussy away from his face and cradled you in both servos, one noticeably damper than the other, in front of him.

His chin was shiny with you, his grin wide and completely self satisfied, and his optics dimmed with pleasure. If you were being honest, he’d never looked better, but in your frazzled state you weren’t sure if you had the capacity to string together enough words to form a compliment.

“I gotta say, compliments to the chef,” he hummed, and you stared at him, words not processing.

“Did you seriously— you just gave me head and that’s what you’re gonna say?”

“Uhh, yeah, babe. And I meant it.”

A genuine laugh shook you. “Oh my god. Ohhh my god. Okay. Well, put me back down there, you corny fuck,” you said with a gesture back at his hips.

“Oooh, keep sayin’ that. I’ll start thinkin’ you mean it.” Your body, errant trembles still running through it, was set carefully down back near its original position. This time, you sat in something closer to a straddle, back straight instead of leaning.

The garage air had gone from temperate and warm to fucking scorching. Outside, the rain droned on, occasional rumbles of thunder sounding so far away that they may as well have not been real. Your entire world had been compressed down to one point — a gravitational singularity in this garage, crushing space and time down until only bricks and concrete stood between you and the oblivion outside. All you knew was living metal and Mirage’s voice, trembling with excitement and fuzzy with static, and that was all you wanted to know. His chassis was making so much noise that you probably, under any other circumstance, would have been concerned; if he blew a gasket fucking you, though, you would wear that with pride.

Pure adoration reflected right back at you from his optics as his servos settled on your hips, his thumbs stroking your slick skin. Any concerns he had about Prime’s reaction to you, or to this — well, maybe not to this specifically, but to the both of you being together — were completely null and void in your presence; the reality of your soft weight in his lap was enough to short out his circuits.

Your hands slid down from the cooling fan in his abdomen spinning at maximum speed towards his soaked interface panel; glancing up at him demurely through your lashes, you spoke.

“You gonna let me return the favor?”

“Huh?” He broke out of his reverie. “Oh, right, um— yeah. Yeah, please.”

A smile crawled over your face at the reminder that despite all the poetic words you could come up with in your head, Mirage was still, and always would be, Mirage. Dazed already, he ran the subroutines to open his interface panel. Machinery shifted with a few clicks, and there was a hiss and an outpour of steam as his spike swung up before you, clearly aching for some kind of touch.

You heard more plates shifting lower, too, and out of curiosity peeked downward; something slick glowed lower down, but the nervous shifting of Mirage’s hips and his closed thighs obscured it from view.

Probably better to just focus on what’s in front of you. Your eyes roamed the length of his array first, your mouth going dry just at the size of it. It was bigger than any toy you owned, anyone you’d slept with, and bigger than his digits, too. Still, though… what were humans if not persevering?

And flexible?

You wrapped a hand around it right below the tip, and a full shudder lanced up Mirage’s frame; it was so thick that there was still space between your fingers and thumb left over. Transfluid, milky in consistency but pearlescent pink in color, spilled from the flared head. Curiosity overtook you, and you swiped a thumb up to catch an errant bead of it as it trailed down the side. The fluid was semi-oily, and smelled… fairly innocuous. Metallic, sure, but that came with the territory.

The array itself was as impressive as it was pretty. Like everything else about Mirage, it was fancy, mostly chrome with blue striping up the sides that led to a fully blue head. The biomesh it was made of — similar to his glossa — gently throbbed with alien pulses as you stared at it. Oh, that was hot. Why was that so hot?

Exploration in full was rewarded with soft noises spilling unbidden from Mirage’s lips, his hips twitching uncontrollably as you carefully slid your hand down from the tip to the base in one fluid motion, feeling the transfluid slick under your fingers. “Mmph, I— ah,” he choked out through gritted denta as you observed him.

Oh. Oh. The realization of the power you held over the big mech made a special kind of arousal thrum through you. Another slow pump had his hips jerk up once and a servo clamp over his mouth.

“This was not included in your anatomy lesson,” you said pointedly, a cheshire grin on your face as you hovered dangerously close to his spike. It throbbed in your grip, working another bead of transfluid out of the tip.

“Oh shit, babe,” he groaned, rolling his helm back against the wall. “Uh— hands— hands-on learning?” he offered weakly, unable to focus on anything other than the soft, damp skin of your palm around his spike.

He made the mistake of looking down as you let spit drool out of your bruised lips and spill over his spike for additional lube, and he snapped his optics shut to avoid from a spontaneous overload right there. The noises he made as you slid your tongue over the head were pitiful.

“Fuck, baby, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he hissed, spinal struts clicking as they arched. Primus, was he seriously about to overload in your mouth? Your lips closed around the head and sucked lightly, and he yelped. A servo shot out and carefully grabbed your shoulder, though the tremors running through his digits told you of the restraint he was barely employing. A string of spit and transfluid connected your mouth to his spike as you lifted your head, and he had to force himself to look away for a second with that same servo clutched over his mouth to keep steady. “‘m not gonna last like that, you— can we just—“

“Fuck?”

“Primus, yes.”

“Yeah, we can. I guess.” Despite the leap of excitement in your stomach, you rolled your eyes.

“Don’t even start with that, c’mon,” he said fondly, one servo supporting you as you lifted yourself above his spike and stared down at it with no small amount of trepidation.

It looked a little more manageable from above, but working with something the size of your forearm would cool anyone’s heels, even if there was slick drooling down your inner thighs. Mirage’s servos settled heavy on your hips and you braced yourself on first his knees behind you, then his wrists as you tilted your pelvis to align your entrance as best you could. You sank. The head pressed insistently against your hole. Relax. Relax. Relax.

A deep breath filled your lungs, then whooshed out, deflating your shoulders. Unable to help himself, Mirage inched one of his servos over and ran his thumb through your folds, rolling over your clit and jolting your hips enough to slip the head inside. A long sigh of “Fuuuuck.” was all that managed to come out of your mouth, your toes curling at the stretch and then the pop of the flared head sliding past your entrance.

Mirage’s entire frame trembled. His vents became shallow and sharp, and the tips of his digits clamped onto the soft meat of your hips desperately as the sensors on his spike reckoned with the realization of just how wet and warm humans really were. “Babe, babe, babe, shit,” he stammered out. “That’s— um, fuck, that’s good!” A weak laugh escaped him as his chin sank down to his chassis, cooling fans hiccuping from stress.

“Hold on, just hold on, I can… shit.” Sweat-dampened palms slid off his wrists for a second before you resituated yourself and leaned back a little, letting your upper back rest against his tucked up thighs. Whatever you were doing worked, because you sank further, and you thanked whatever god was listening that you’d already finished once, making your body quite boneless and that much easier to maneuver.

Mirage, on the other hand, was as taut as a fucking bowstring, made helpless to his own pleasure and completely powerless to you. His optics first scrunched shut, unable to look at you for fear of overloading at the sight of you finally on his spike; then they flew open at the realization that he wanted this burned into his visual processors forever.

Your skin shone with sweat and lubricant; rivulets trailed down your body like a visual pointer to your slick sex, nestled within wiry hair and stretching so beautifully around his spike that it tore an honest-to-Primus whimper out of his vocal synthesizer.

“Mirage, I need you to— mmnh, fuck, I need you to just touch— please,” you gasped, his spike punching the air right out of your lungs. Although your words were broken, he seemed to get the memo, and despite his minute tremors, brought his thumb back to your clit and pressed down. Just the surface area alone made you sigh and roll your head back in pleasure, and it loosened you enough to take him right up until the head nestled against your cervix and your ass brushed his hip plating. There was maybe an inch or two left, but you felt immense pride at managing to work most of his spike in — and immense pleasure, too. If he moved his thumb at all, you were done; you were so fucking full you could barely breathe, and you felt the slow, rhythmic pulses of his biomesh throb through you.

Mirage had never been one for restraint. He did things all-in, one-hundred-and-ten percent, all with a flourish to top it off; the feeling of the hot silk of your walls flexing around his spike just sitting there was enough to quite literally kill his cooling fans via a micro-short in an attempt to divert more power towards keeping his hips still. Senseless praises streamed from his lips, voice whining and roughened by static fuzz. “Yes, yes, yes, sugar, Primus, that’s good— feels so good, please, can I move, please,” he fumbled, jaw slack and optics flickering with the power surges cascading throughout his frame.

“Just— let me start,” was your response, tears pricking at your eyes, and although Mirage groaned pitifully underneath you, he listened.

You had a fair amount of experience with riding toys, and you knew what felt good; the lightbulb above your head became apparent. A shift in your position pushed further weight to the back so that the ridges and nodes of his spike pressed insistently toward the front — though, to be fair, it pressed everywhere — and oh, fuck, right there. Now shoved against that sweet spot inside you, the pleasure teetered on the edge of pain, and you dragged yourself up with a vicious grip on the seams of his thighs behind you. Mirage whined and shifted his hips just slightly; it was enough to pull a moan from your lips as you slid upward. Thick, sluggish droplets of slick swirled with transfluid oozed down his spike. He watched — it was all he could do — with an open mouth and rapidly cycling optics.

The flared head caught against your entrance; a spike (ha!) of pleasure lanced through you. “Okay, now, you can— help me, please,” you stammered out, dizzy with pleasure already and feeling a loopy kind of open-mouthed grin situate itself on your face.

Your words were all he needed. Although he desperately, desperately wanted to snap his hips up and chase the vice-grip of your slick walls, he’d rather take on Megatron alone with his servos tied behind his back than risk hurting you. Especially while interfacing. He did not want to have to explain that to anyone.

Thumb slowly working your clit, his servos gripped your hips just a little too tight and assisted; you could feel the tremors lancing up and down his arms as he helped you establish a rhythm. At a word, the dam would break, but for now, you maintained tenuous control over the mech and over yourself as you rode him with his help.

Well. Rode was a strong word for it; he all but dragged you up and down the length of his spike, earning each of you luxurious groans from the other, but your quivering thigh muscles assisted as best they could. Heat surged through your body at the drag of his nodes against your walls, and you realized with a hot flash that Mirage was going to fucking ruin you for anybody else, and you liked that. Which was good, because he could have stayed buried in your cunt for the rest of his life and offlined happily just like that.

It was good. It was really good. But even the overwhelming stretch wasn’t enough. Just like earlier — it seemed like light years away now — when you’d still had pants on and hadn’t been completely lost to metal-on-skin debauchery, the grind of your clit on the seam of your jeans had been good, but not enough. Your fingers clawed at his wrists. The burn of your thighs from exertion seared through you, mixing with the jolts of pleasure from your clit to create some new, terrible monster that had you twitching with shameless ecstasy.

“Mirage, Mirage,” you croaked, as he slid you down his spike again and pushed it into your lungs, “I’m— fuck, please, faster, please, please.” In any other scenario, your begging would have immensely embarrassed you; now, though, it seemed like the only viable option to get him to fuck you like you needed him to.

“Shit, baby,” he hissed, and you gasped as he kept moving you, legs jerking uselessly. “You— fuck, you sure?”

“Yes, please, just— oh, fuck!” The cry — and the air in your lungs — was knocked right out of you by a single desperate snap of his hips upward, his spike driven straight home. Your entire upper body crumpled forward, kept upright only by a tenuous grip on his wrists, and then he really started fucking you, and you were gone.

His cooling fans surged back to life as he slammed into you, power no longer diverted towards holding the actuators of his hips back. No, now he was fucking jackhammering into you, and you were barely moving as his spike pistoned in and out of you, slick drooling from your cunt. Like he remembered himself, his thumb began to work furiously against your clit, and you rewarded him with a gasp and more than a few uncontrollable moans of his name, which only served to fuel him more.

Not like he was being quiet, either. You were glad that the building was solid brick and the rain continued to pour outside, because the amount of noise coming from his chassis and spilling from his lips was worrying. Praises and broken mentions of your name streamed from him; he tossed his helm back against the wall with his optics squeezed shut to keep from overloading prematurely. It was too much— it was way too fucking much. Your poor overworked cunt was nearly bruised with sensitivity, barely able to keep up with the stretch of his spike as the nodes pulsing along it raked that sweet spot inside of you mercilessly. Neither of you were going to last long; not your fragile human body nor his torqued-up frame could handle much more of this.

Every sharp thrust paired with the frantic, messy circles he pressed into your clit brought you viciously closer and spilled tears from your eyes. All you could really do was hold on as Mirage wrung pleasure from both your body and his. Impossibly, his thumb worked faster, his pace got even more brutal, and you were almost seizing from pleasure as your nerve endings were frayed raw. That peak was building in your gut, that familiar tight coil of heat, for the second time that night, and you knew it was going to completely destroy you, and you wanted it to.

Without warning, Mirage spread his knees apart, slammed his pedes flat on the floor, and thrusted up. His spinal struts arched again to get his spike that much further inside of your yielding body, his overload imminent and warning signs flashing in his optics’ periphery. “Fuck, yes— yes, baby, yes, yes, ah, shit!” His frenzied whine rang in your ears as steam from his vents heated the air around you; the only thing that rang in your ears besides your thunderous heartbeat was the heady slap of skin against metal, everything slick with your combined fluids.

You responded in kind at the new angle with a cry of his name and some noises that resembled words, but the way he sheathed his spike inside you — fuck, was it all the way in? — and ground his thumb against your clit was too much— too much— you couldn’t—

You shattered. Doubling over from pleasure, you sobbed incoherently as your climax slammed into you. Pleasure crackled through your veins like lightning; a fog of pleasure dulled your senses until the only thing you could focus on was his spike pulsing in your cunt and his thumb still grinding against your clit. Tears pricked at your eyes, joining the ones already wetting your cheeks, as jolts of pleasure lanced up your spine. Maybe you moaned his name, maybe you didn’t. You couldn’t tell.

Mirage went soon after you, because the feeling of your walls clamping around his spike as if trying to suck him in impossibly further did him in instantly. His optics snapped open wide before slamming shut and he cried your name as the best overload of his life wracked his frame; the actuators of his hips trembled violently, along with his servos, as transfluid gushed into you and was immediately forced out by the pure lack of room inside your cunt. Engine snarling, cooling fans nearly spinning off their axles, he held your hips as flush to his as possible while the both of you rode out your respective climaxes, twitching around each other violently. Minute jerks of his hips attempted to work more transfluid inside of you. Brain still wiped blank with pleasure, all you could do was make soft noises and let the aftershocks spasm through you.

Consciousness eventually came back to you in gritty waves. Mirage had set your body down, leaned back against his thighs, his spike still seated within you but depressurizing slowly. Transfluid seeped out of your puffy folds, and you lifted a shaking hand to collect some of it and taste it. Metallic. Like you’d expected.

Enormous vents whooshed through his frame as he attempted to cool his chassis; coolant dripped from him, some of it turned to steam by the pure heat of his internal mechanisms. Body shaking and feeling very small and human, you stroked a thumb over his wrist where you held it, feeling both its ambient warmth and a surge of affection. And satisfaction.

You were absolutely going to feel this in the morning, holy shit. Thank God you didn’t have work tomorrow.

Mirage eventually came back down to earth, his optics cracking open and cycling a few times before they flared to their usual brightness. Lids heavy and a dopey grin on his face, he carefully lifted you off his spike — it slid out of you with a slick noise that made you flush — and brought you up to face-level. With one servo, he held you tight against his torso; he planted the other flat on the floor and resituated his hips so he could slump down further against the wall, his entire frame lax.

Self-satisfaction beamed at you from his faceplates. “Oh, that was good, huh?”

You scoffed, too tired to get riled up at his teasing; you knew he was feeling the same as you. “Yeah, pretty good. I don’t know if I’ll be able to walk tomorrow, to be totally honest.” An exhausted laugh left you.

“Gonna count that as a win.”

“You… do whatever you want.” You waved a limp hand at him dismissively, letting the rise and fall of his chassis with his vents rock you.

“Well, then, I wanna do this,” he purred, and brought you in for a kiss that communicated all his smug affection without any of his stupid jokes. You returned it gratefully, a smile on each of your mouths as you basked in that pleasant post-sex glow.

The rain still droned outside. A boom of thunder rolled through the building; the lights flickered. Both you and Mirage glanced upward. His optics slid back down to you first.

“You thinkin’ about going anywhere in this weather?” he asked, raising a brow ridge.

“I dunno, do I have a ride?”

“Nah,” he replied playfully, kissing you again, and you found that it could storm for the rest of your life, and you wouldn’t really care. So long as you had your favorite — yes, your favorite, not that you could ever admit around him — to keep you company.

#mirage rotb #mirage x reader #transformers rotb #transformers x reader #mirage x you #valveplug #tf mirage #maccadam #nsfw////#transformers #rise of the beasts #i wrote this entire thing on my phone in like 4 days so excuse any spelling mistakes LMFAO #doq.fic

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stones-enjoyer · 10 months

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thinking about ROTB today… i love mirage so much

#HES SO #MMMMMFFGGGDHJXKG #mirage #mirage rotb #transformers #transformers rotb #noah diaz #mirage x noah #mirage x reader #autobots

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marimology · 10 months

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transformers fandom coming back alive for a dude and his alien robot boyfriend

#mirage transformers #transformers smut #transformers rise of the beasts #transformers x reader #rotb mirage #mirage x noah #noah diaz #optimus prime #arcee

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my-writings-and-musings · 10 months

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Transformers ROTB

Fluffy Mirage x Reader

I have no more thoughts, there is only Mirage. I already posted a fic of him to my 18+ blog, but I love seeing this mech being a cute little nerd as well. Please enjoy this fic where reader wakes up at night for a drink and Mirage doesn't want to stop snuggling.

Fair warning there might be quite a lot of ROTB content incoming!

Unexpected thirst woke you from your deep sleep rather quickly, thrusting your bleary mind into an environment it didn't immediately recognize. Panic had no time to set in before you realized you were in your garage, with a thoroughly demolished couch below you and a very affectionate bot snoozing away at your back. The two of you must have fallen asleep after turning off the TV...

Mirage made a small sound at your back before curling more tightly around you, pulling the arm he had under your middle close to secure your back snugly against his front as he murmured something snarky in his dreams. Smiling at the adorableness, you realized rather swiftly that getting up for a drink without waking the sleeping bot would be a challenge. You weren't being held especially tightly, but the soldier was a light sleeper, and the smushed couch remains beneath you were rather noisy when disturbed. Were you not so thirsty, you'd have just settled back into his arms and gone to sleep.

Deciding to try your luck, you began scootching your way downwards to try and ease out of the mech's grip, moving slowly so as not to brush any part of him along the way. Mirage continued to twitch as he dreamt, snoring lightly as you tenderly pushed his arm away from your middle. Once you got free and began inching away from the warm little nest the two of you had created, it occurred to you that the mech had probably pulled you close after you'd fallen asleep but before doing so himself, as the last thing you remembered was resting your eyes while sitting on his lap.

The affection stirred by that thought compelled you to turn around for a look at him recharging in all his adorableness, and you smiled before continuing your crawl. It would be delightful to return to his arms after facing this cold open air...

A loud creak from the smushed springs and wood beneath your knees made you freeze, heart skipping as you looked back in a rush.

Mirage awoke with a start, optics onlining with a few quick blinks before he focused on you and calmed considerably, alarm fading to sleepy confusion. "Babe?"

"I'm just going to get some water, be back in a second." you explained gently, moving in to plant a quick kiss on his forehelm. To your surprise, the speedster pulled you in without a word, hugging you back against his chassis as if you were a cat. Sputtering in surprise, you allowed yourself to be smushed with only moderate flailing, so accustomed to being handled you no longer felt too off put even when caught off guard.

"Nooooo, don't go..." he whined softly, playfully tightening his grip on you as if he never intended to let go. The sleepy antics were quite in character, and you only rolled your eyes as he nuzzled his helm against yours, mussing up your hair in the process. You accepted the affection for a few moments before trying to pull yourself away once more, throat protesting yet again for a drink.

"I'm only going to the kitchen." you reminded him, the door to the room in question quite literally within sight. In just the time he'd taken for these antics you could have been halfway done with your task, thanks largely to the tiny size of the adjoining house, but logic rarely kept Mirage from doing much of anything. In fairness, you'd have been happy to go back to sleep were you not still so thirsty. The lovable bot was very good at cuddling.

"Hmmm, fine..." he conceded with dramatic disappointment, releasing you before crossing his arms and pouting. As soon as you crawled away he upped the ante, wrapping his arms about himself and shivering pathetically and putting on the most over the top puppy optics you'd ever seen. "Brrrr, so cold... hope I don't freeze out here all alone."

"You'll survive until I get back." you promised with a roll of your eyes. Certain he was pouting at the back of your head the entire way, you quickly crossed the furbished garage and slipped into the dark house, using the ample moonlight to guide you through the dark kitchen. After grabbing a much needed glass of water and finishing it with a few greedy gulps, you hurried back to the garage, eyes slightly more adjusted to the dark by the time you opened the door. You doubted the entire affair took more than two minutes.

"Oh, Y/N, is that you? It's been so long..." Mirage said with mock weakness from the far side. Curled up in a pitiful position he'd obviously posed for maximum effect, the speedster shivered as if he'd been left abandoned for hours, the mock pain in his optics barely covering the mischevious delight in their depths.

"I was gone for five minutes." you reminded him with a yawn, wanting nothing more than to curl up in the flattened couch once more. It was surprisingly comfortable for something multiple bots had reduced to a pile of stuffing, but the mech you shared it with probably had a lot to do with that.

"Nearly enough time for me to freeze to death. Now get back here, I need my little space heater." Mirage said, abandoning his act to beckon you over.

"Letting that go because I'm so tired..." you promised, rubbing your eyes as you crawled back onto the couch remains. The mech eagerly assisted you, helping to bring your back against his front just as you'd been before whilst he snagged a spare blanket to lay over your shoulders. Being pulled in close allowed you to feel the subtle warmth that radiated from his own frame, as well as the tender hum of his spark and the gentle caress of his EM field brightening at your presence. When he looped his arm around your front once more, you happily hugged it close, and his demeanor softened all around you.

"Mmm, much better." he purred, curling about you as the both of you settled in once more. Loosely holding his hand, you snuggled against him and began to drift off once more, smiling as he murmured a final goodnight after thinking you were already asleep. "Sweet dreams, bunkmate."

#transformers #maccadam #tf #mirage x reader #rotb mirage #transformers rotb #tf rotb #rotb #human reader #self insert #transformers x reader #x reader #tf imagines #fluff #mirage #rotb x reader #bayverse

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rottingparts · 11 months

Text

Confessions

[Mirage x Human!AFAB!Reader]

Summary: Mirage wants to take you out, and not with a sniper.

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: SMUT!! 18+, MINORS DNI!! Human/Alien Robot Relations, mentions of clit, grinding, size difference, bruising, marking up (but not on purpose) (please let me know if i missed something! Sometimes my brain thinks it typed it out or i just miss it in general, it's not on purpose i promise!)

A/N: There is no use of pronouns! Reader is AFAB, but is written GN. This was supposed to be like, multiple characters separately, but this got a little long and i didn't wanna write the other two this long as well, so I'm posting this one by itself. I also kinda wanna do one with potentially a male reader?? Give me your thoughts🔫 -Rot

It started with a ‘I know a place’ and ended with you hopping into Mirage and going to wherever it was he wanted to take you.

The two of you wound up in some secluded area, on a hill, overlooking the sunset below you. Mirage’s door opened and you scooted out. You looked at the scenery before you and gasped. It was astounding, beautiful, and most definitely breathtaking.

“How do you know about this place?”

Mirage waved his hand, “Ah, it’s-” He seemed to not be able to come up with anything, “Noah told me about it.”

“Of course,” You smiled at Mirage, “I should have known you wouldn’t know any cool New York places on your own.”

Mirage feigned being hurt, touching his chest and giving a slight gasp. “I’m trying to spend time with you, and you say that?”

You rolled your eyes playfully and sat down in the grass, looking at the pink and orange sky above you. You lied down and closed your eyes. You sighed and heard movement beside you. You peeked over and saw Mirage sitting beside you. He was watching you, thinking. You didn’t know about what, but you could see he was thinking hard.

“Y’know…” Mirage started, shifting where he sat, “This is probably not a good time,” he rambled on, “stop me if it isn’t,” he put one of his servos up, “but, you’re really beautiful, and I can’t stop thinking about you- I think the team gets mad with how much I talk about you-”

“Mirage-”

“Now, I understand if you don’t think the same thing-”

“Mirage!” You almost shouted. He stopped. “I think- I feel the same.”

“You think you do?” His optic ridges furrowed. He sounded worried.

“No! I know I do.” You smiled at him. “Um, this is embarrassing-”

“Oh trust me,” Mirage shook his head, “It isn’t.”

You paused, “No, it is. I think about you a lot. A lot more than I, uh, probably should.”

Mirage, growing intrigued, gave you a curious look. “Oh? What do you think about? I need every detail.”

Your eyes widened. “No you don’t. All you need to know is I feel the same, and maybe then some.” You were fidgeting, playing with the grass beneath you.

Mirage’s fingers met your face, and he gently, very gently, tilted it towards him. Your eyes met his blue optics and your stomach dropped. A heat pooled between your legs and you tensed. ‘Now is not the time,’ you shouted at yourself. Your breath caught in your throat.

“I’ll tell you what I’ve been thinking, but you gotta go first.” He inched closer to you, “I don’t want my thoughts to be too weird.”

You nodded, “Okay,” your palms hit your thighs and anxiously rub down them. Mirage was still keeping you looking at him, and as soon as you closed your eyes and inhaled, Mirage was quick to ask you to keep your eyes on him. You looked back at him, “For starters, I think about you a lot at night. I think about your voice, your… servos?” You asked, pointing at them, and he nodded, “I think about what they would feel like against my skin.”

Mirage’s ego was being inflated at a speed unknown to man, “Well, you don’t have to wonder any longer.” He smirked. “I’ll share now!” He seemed excited to tell you after you shared your thoughts, “I think about how soft you would be. Your skin, oh especially your lips-”

You, without thinking, interrupted him, “Would you like to figure that out?”

Mirage cocked an optic ridge at you, “Which one?”

“Both,” You whispered, voice barely audible. Mirage was stuck. Did he think he’d get this far? Not really. “You can kiss me…”

Mirage was on you instantly. Your warm hands went to his face and cupped it. His lips pressed to yours and your stomach turned with excitement. You pulled away, faster than Mirage would have liked and he pouted at you.

“No one is gonna come up here?” There was a desire in your eyes that Mirage could not get enough of. As soon as he shook his head, you nodded. “Can I-” You motioned towards his lap. He moved back from you, sitting directly on the grass and patted his thigh. You crawled onto him and started to kiss him once more.

Mirage grabbed at your waist, dragging you up his thigh slightly, causing you to moan. Mirage took this as a chance to happily stick his tongue into your mouth. You gasped, eyes widening and fingers tensing on his face.

Mirage’s tongue explored your mouth and you rocked on his thigh. That elicited another moan from you and you felt Mirage smile. Mirage moved his leg, picking it up and dropping it, causing you to fall with it as you tried to grind against him. You whined and pulled away from Mirage. He gave you an innocent look, acting as if he didn’t just do that.

With brows furrowed, you huffed at him, “Mirage,” You whined out his name.

“Oh~” He smiled, “I can definitely get used to hearing that!”

“Come on! You’re not gonna leave me high and dry are you?” It was your turn to look at him innocently.

Mirage was melting under your stare. He could have sworn his spark stopped. “How do you wanna do this?” He was folding already. “I mean, I think you’re too small for my spike…”

You bit your lip, thinking, “I could-” You couldn’t articulate your words properly, “I want us to both feel good.”

You saying that was all Mirage needed to hear. Before you knew it you were half naked, and Mirage had his spike out. Your shirt was still on, but your bottoms were thrown by Mirage to the side. You had asked him to not destroy them. He proved to be a good listener.

Mirage positioned you against his spike. He leaned back, keeping you steady, and watching you as you started to move. Since you were quite a bit smaller than Mirage, and knew you could not feasibly take his spike, he had decided it would be best for the both of you if you just would grind against it.

You started to move, pushing yourself along the spike. As you reached the head of it, your thighs would tense together and you could feel Mirage twitching under you. You would slide back down his spike, your clit rubbing against it. You let out a loud moan and cried out Mirage’s name.

“Fuck,” You whined as you hand grabbed for Mirage’s forearm, keeping yourself upright. Your legs were going to be sore the next day. But at that moment you did not care. As you pushed yourself up and slid your way back down Mirage’s spike again, you were getting closer and closer to release. “Baby,” You whimpered, “I’m gonna-”

As soon as you said ‘baby’ Mirage was close to losing it. His hips bucked upwards and you were sure the noise he made was going to be heard a mile away. His grip on you tightened and you came hard and fast, all over his spike. You did not stop grinding against him though, not until Mirage came himself.

You watched as Mirage’s optics seemed to fizzle out, he seemed to be short circuiting momentarily. When he whimpered you were sure you could orgasm again just from that alone. Transfluid came from his spike and your grinding began to slow.

“Don’t-” Mirage’s optics were blue again, and staring straight at you, “Don’t stop.”

“Mirage,” Your voice was soft as you were growing tired, “I’m too sensitive.”

Mirage seemed to realize his grip on you was not as soft as it once was and he let go, letting you slide down onto his leg. When you felt him lift your shirt and you heard him let out a little gasp you looked down at your side. You noticed a bruise forming, one that resembled a not so small hand, and you felt yourself snort.

“This isn’t funny!” Mirage was not laughing, “I hurt you!”

“Mirage,” You reassured him, trying to steady yourself on his thigh, “it’s a bruise, it’s gonna heal. The way you held me was kinda hot, anyway.” Mirage was conflicted. “Let’s just hope the others don’t see it…”

Something clicked, “Wait, if they do see it, they’ll know-” Mirage looked ecstatic.

“Mirage! I am not going to show off this bruise so everyone knows that I was with you.” You shook your head. “But-” You put a finger up, “If someone asks I won’t deny it…”

#valveplug #tf mirage #rotb mirage #mirage #mirage smut #mirage x reader #transformers smut #transformers x reader

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i-starcreamed · 11 months

Text

MIRAGE X READER

hii rotb has made me fall in love with...a lot more transformers now. This is just a silly idea I had, kinda lame but idc. Being cringe and free now. Anyways, planning to make this a small series maybe? Mirage lovers where are you?? Could eventually make this a mirage x reader x Noah, love them both, really. Or you know, Noah could be a third wheel, you guys decide that

[ human!gn reader summary: You have no idea how you got into this situation. First, you were trying to steal a true beauty of a car with your friend Noah to get some extra cash with Reek working behind the scenes (apparently) And now, you were in the Porche you guys were planning to steal. Mind you, it's currently driving itself.

"Holy shit!" You yelled in terror as the car careened wildly around the curve, sending both you and Noah lurching to the left side of the vehicle. You clung onto the door handle for dear life, your heart pounding in your chest as a combination of fear and adrenaline caused you to burst out into wild laughter. Noah, on the other hand, let out an ear-splitting, high-pitched scream as he death-gripped onto the steering wheel with both hands. "STOP STOP STOP!"

The radio kept picking up a certain frequency, it was static-y but still clear enough to understand it kept reaching out towards something or someone named Mirage.

After crashing several police cars, running red lights, and being tossed around the car, the silver and blue Porche entered a warehouse of some sort and literally tossed you out onto the cement. Noah groaned as he rolled on his side. You on the other hand, didn't manage to fall onto the ground and gripped onto the seat. You thought it was over but noo, all of a sudden the car decides to transform, its component parts moving and shifting into new positions. You stare in awe and fear as the walls around you warp and bend ever so slightly; the seat beneath you shifts away from you before slowly, almost hesitantly dropping you onto the ground. You stare up and after a couple seconds, the car transformed into a fucking robot. Towering several feet in front of you and Noah, you both stare up in fear. You're a bit amazed honestly, you're staring at a giant metal dude stretch and prance around the warehouse, ranting about being cooped up this entire time.

You and Noah shared a look.

"But that was cool, you guys are cool. A bit loud, ehh, but cool." The robot stood in front of you now, his gaze focused on the both of you. You froze, Noah scrambled around to pick up a metal pipe. "Woah woah woah!" The robot held his hands up. You cursed under your breath and scrambled to get behind Noah, trying to look for anything you can use as a weapon as the robot focused on Noah. You found a couple loose bolts and nuts on the ground and scooped them up in your palm.

You approached Noah's side, menacingly brandishing the tiny screws in your hand. The robot quickly put his hands in the air. "What are you gonna do, you gonna hit me?"

You both looked at eachother. Noah shifted, adjusting his stance while still holding up the pipe. "Maybe?" The robot made a noise akin to a scoff and his left arm started transforming into something else, oh god oh fuck. Before you even had time to register it, you threw a bolt at him. It hit his arm and he froze. "Hey- what?"

You were launching bolts at him, your shots greeted with a "hey, hey, hey!" each time they clanked against his frame. You kept getting closer, pushing him back further and further, surprising yourself with your own nerve. That confidence instantly disappeared when he whipped out his arm-gun, the blue light from the barrel seemed to lock onto you and Noah, like two deer in headlights. "Can you- stop throwing those things at me?!"

"woah, woah, woah-" Noah quickly put his hands up and walked up to you, standing in front of you. "Let's all calm down, alright? Alright? We good?" "Noah, what the hell is this about?" You whisper yelled.

"I dont know! Just dont get us killed" he whisper yelled back.

You huffed defiantly, you quickly took the bat from Noah's hands and tightly gripped it. You adopted a battle-ready stance, staring down the giant robot - thing? - truly unyielding. Neither of you backed down until he put the gun down, straightening up. "Okay okay, you're brave. I like that."

Your face dropped, dumbfounded. Noah reached out and firmly snatched the bat from you, his face a mask of barely-contained irritation. "what did I fucking tell you about not trying to get us killed, dude?" He hissed.

What the hell was going on.

#transformers x reader #transformers rotb #rotb x reader #rotb mirage #mirage x reader #maccadam #rise of the beasts #tf x reader #noah diaz

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monster-disaster · 6 months

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[incubus] Darian

incubus!Darian x human!Reader Good to know: ass play, oral (f receiving)

Summary: You go to Darian for a massage session.

You can feel the warmth of the ground even through your flip-flops. The bright rays of the sun burn the back of your neck, caressing down on the soft line of your shoulders. The thin layer of sweat on your heated skin shines under the hot globe at the top of the clear blue sky. Even the thin towel around your body seems too much in this weather. Your fingers tighten on the soft fabric to keep it in place while you wait for the door in front of you to open.

Your gaze turns from the small hut to the pools nearby. The gentle ripples of the water glint as the humans and monsters move around in it. You can hear the splashes and laughs.

The plants and exotic, colorful flowers bloom in the heat all over the resort. Their scent mixes with the dryness of the desert. The dunes stand tall in the distance.

Your attention snaps back to the door when you hear it open. The creak is quiet and light. Your gaze meets with a bare chest first before dragging your eyes up to a smiling face. It's mischievous and dangerous. His dark blue lips seem soft around the pearly whites of his teeth. His tongue peaks up for a second as he licks one of his canines. They are pointed but not like the vampires'.

"Hello," you break the silence when you find your voice. His dark eyes crinkle with amusement at the hoarseness of your voice. "Hey," he greets you, stepping back from the door to give you enough space to enter. "You are Amanda, I believe?" "Oh," you gasp, reaching out your hand. "I'm Amanda. It's nice to meet you." "Darian at your service," he says, holding your hand in his much larger one. His touch is warm and firm. His lips are soft as he leans down and kisses the back of your hand.

You thought the small hut would give you protection from the heat, and even though the air is much better here, the presence of the incubus makes it hard for you to breathe. His tall form hovers above you, and your gaze drops on his nipples every now and again. They are pierced. The small silvery bars glint under the dim lights.

"Are you ready then?" He asks, and when you nod, he continues. "You can get comfortable."

He turns his back to you, busying himself with something to give you a moment to relax and settle on the massage table.

You take a deep breath from the air that smells like oils and candles as you drop the towel onto a chair nearby. You are bare and flustered. This is your first time being here, wanting a massage that can escalate quickly. The male hasn't even touched you yet, and you are already moist between your legs.

You lay down on the comfortable but firm table. Your chest presses against the leather, and your arms rest next to you. Your face is in the hole on the headrest.

"Just relax," Darian says after a few seconds. You see his legs when he moves closer. His feet are bare. "And tell me if something hurts or you want to stop." "Okay," you reply, forcing your body to relax.

He starts slowly. His hands are large and clever. He draws small circles on the back of your neck, going down to your shoulders and shoulder blades. His fingers dig into your skin, massaging your muscles and working through your body. Darian traces the line of your spine with his thumb, watching your every reaction.

"Is it good?" He asks even though he already knows your answer. The scent of your arousal is potent in the air. "Yes," you reply, groaning when he reaches a spot.

He isn't in a hurry. By the time he reaches your lower body, you are already relaxed and putty under his hands. You melt into the mattress, enjoying his long fingers gliding over your bare skin. He goes to your legs, working himself up on you from your toes and claves. He massages your muscles, drawing circles and long lines with his fingers. The incubus's palms are warm on your thighs. His thumbs go up on your inner thighs once, twice, three times.

You are excited, and you know he knows. You fidget every now and again, wanting more but not being brave enough to ask for it. The male smiles at your struggle. He can almost feel your pleasure on the tip of his tongue. You are sweet and needy.

"What do you want, Amanda?" He asks, smirking. His hands grope your ass cheeks, almost pulling them apart to see you better. "From the front," he continues, letting his thumb slip over your wet slit. "Or from the back."

A gasp leaves your lips when you feel his finger around your other hole. He draws small circles around it while he waits for your reply. Your legs pull apart automatically to give him more space.

"From the back," you reply breathlessly. Heat burns your cheeks at your answer, but Darian isn't shocked or repulsed by your wants. His eyes are on your hole, licking his lips.

"Good," he hums. "Very good."

He continues to massage you, teasing but never really reaching where you want him most. Long minutes pass by like this while your breathing gets heavier. The incubus feeds on your every moan and groan. He sees the small movements of your hips as you try to stay in place and not push your bottom up to him to take.

"Demanding little thing, aren't you?" He jokes. "Don't hold back, Amanda. Give me everything you can." "Please, Darian," you gasp out. "What do you want?" He asks, his voice coming from much closer than before. His breath is hot on the side of your neck. Goosebumps run through your skin that shines with a thin layer of oil under the dim, relaxing lights when he licks your pulse. His tongue is warm and wet. You can feel the tingling his saliva gives you immediately. It goes straight to your core. The table is probably already messy under you. "I want you to…" you gasp. He starts to go lower on your body. He kisses and licks your back, letting his saliva relax you even more. You tremble and fidget. You want to know how his tongue feels in your holes. "Yes?" He hums. "Do you want me to eat this ass?" He grips your asscheeks, squeezing and jiggling it. "Yes," you gasp. "Please." "I will devour you, do not worry," he promises, moving back to the end of the table to grab your hips and pull you up. Your bottom is in the air while your face is still on the bed. You can smell yourself on the fabric. Your pussy pulses at the familiar scent. "So pretty," he hums, opening up your lips to see your pussy better. You soak the tip of his fingers within a few seconds. "So warm and delicious." "Oh, god," you groan at his words, wiggling in his hold with anticipation. The vulnerability of your position does nothing but spike your arousal higher. You are open and ready in front of his eyes. The thick globes of your bottom shine with the oil he used on you, and your cunt drips, making a mess between your thighs.

You moan when his thumb grazes your puckered hole in circles, groping your cheeks with his other hand. He pulls on the flesh, opening up you more. Your whole body trembles under his touch. His hot breath fans over your pussy, making you pulse and flutter around nothing.

A muffled squeal escapes your tightened throat when you feel his lips closing around your clit. His plump lips are hot and firm around the small bundle of nerves as the male sucks on it. Every nerve in your body focuses on that small spot that makes you go crazy. He flicks his tongue against it, licking up on your slit and gathering your juices on his tongue. "Oh, fuck," you groan when he barely pushes inside your cunt and continues his way up between your cheeks. His fingers dig into your flesh for better access to your asshole. He is warm and wet on your skin. The male soaks you in his saliva until you can feel your tight muscles relax and his tongue dart inside your hole. Your eyes fall shut at the tingling feeling on your pussy and asshole. Just the effect of his saliva would be enough to make you cum, but the incubus demands more from you and your delirious body. He fucks his tongue into your hole, darting in and out until your muscles lose enough under his assault. "You are delicious," Darian groans, intoxicated by the energy that radiates from you in thick, heavy waves. His cock is hard in his white, loose pants. With every moan and scream that leaves your lips, his shaft jerks, leaking precum. "Fuck," you breathe out, panting. "I never want you to stop." Your words are followed by a deep, satisfied chuckle. "You are so sensitive," Darian hums. "Responsive," he adds, pressing his thumb into your hole. Even after his saliva-soaked rimming, you are still tight around his finger. You moan at the feeling of him filling you up. He pushes in and out of you a few times before changing his fingers to reach deeper inside you. You drip onto the bed, your cunt and ass flutter with pleasure. At this point, the sounds leaving your chest are constant noises in the small hut that smells like desire and sex. "The others probably can hear you outside," the male smirks down at you, watching you drooling onto the table. "They can hear you scream as I finger that sweet ass." "Darian!" You scream, shaking. When you almost reach your orgasm, he stops, and you fall back from the edge with a pained cry. "Not yet," he says. "I want to taste your cunt again." Your pussy clenches at his words. "Ohgodyes," you groan. "Please!"

The male's free hand that isn't busy with your asshole finds the wet slit of your cunt. He grazes your sensitive flesh lazily, feeling your plump pussy under his touch. Your clit throbs and aches with need. "So wet," he says. "I just want to drink you up. Slurp up every drop you can give me until I'm full and satisfied." "Ohplease," you gasp, gripping the edges of the table to keep your balance as you push your bottom back to him.

Your hoarse begging is the sweetest sound for his ears as he leans down and shoves his tongue into your pussy immediately. The world spins around you at the overwhelming feeling under Darian's pushes and licks. He fucks your pussy with his tongue, drawing small circles on your clit and still pushing inside your asshole. Your sweat mixes with the oil that you can't smell anymore under the thick scent of your arousal.

Darian devours your pussy while fingering your ass. You open up for him obediently, letting him explore your depths with two thick fingers.

"Don'tstopdon'tstop," you chant desperately, feeling the familiar spasm jerk your body and curling your belly into a tight knot. You shake and twitch as your climax blinds you for long seconds. Your asshole squeezes around his fingers, not wanting to let him go while your pussy gushes into his hungry mouth. Your heart beats in your ears, and your lungs burn for air. Sparks of pleasure burn your whole body as you come down from your high. Darian has to help you to lay back down on the table, still on your stomach.

"Can I write you up for another session?" He asks knowingly. His long fingers trace slow patterns on the back of your head, playing with the sweaty strands of your hair. "Please."

- Masterlist Mirage Resort Masterlist Patreon

#monster smut #monster boyfriend #monster romance #monster fucker #monster lover #incubus smut #incubus x human #incubus x reader #mirage resort #monster x reader #monster x human

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terriblyrenderedenigma · 11 months

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Mirage has my whole heart bro.

Just saw the movie. Yes I'm in love with him. He's such a chill dude. I loved every moment that he was on screen and I wish I could have more. My head is literally full of him but I do not have the words to express the exact feelings I have for him without spoilers. So I wont say anything but this. Im gonna try to write at least a little about this man since my motivation is back up.

Speaking of writing, when I do write about him I might add in some g1 quirks to him that he didn't have in the movie, but wtvr just be prepared my brain be workin on some funky shit rn. Oh and-

He definitely whimpers

#just saw transformers: rise of the beasts and I have so much to say about him.#transformers #maccadams #maccaddam #rise of the beasts #tf #tf rise of the beasts #mirage #tf mirage #tf memes #transformers x reader #transformers x oc #mirage x reader #tf fanfic #just a little sus #transformers g1 #tf g1 #tf rotb #rotb mirage

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snipersfucker · 10 months

Note

As someone new to transformer fics, I'd love a fic where Mirage and the reader learn what the others name for body parts are (hand/servo, etc.) And obviously Mirage uses it as an opportunity to put the moves on the reader.

yall are so creative with these i legit opened my mouth when i read that...... such a good idea omg lets go (im so deep in that shit i legit remember most robot names for these body parts without having to look em up lmao)

"That's a chassis."

You let out a sigh as Mirage pointed at another part of his metal body. You knew you wouldn't be able to remember all these ridiculously strange names, but still wanted to be a good student, especially because you asked him to teach you.

"Mine's a bit bigger than the ones your little boys have."

And there it was. His constant bragging, showing-off, comments that indicated he was damn aware he was better than humans.

You raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him, not having to look up that much because he was sitting on his... aft. Or something.

"Helm, face plate, optics, pedes, tank..." He kept pointing at random body parts of his, naming them as fast as he could just to get to the most interesting ones he could use to finally rizz you up.

"'m surprised you don't have a diploma for being the best teacher ever, Mirage," you muttered under your breath shamelessly, sarcasm dripping from your tongue as you stood there with your arms crossed on your chest.

He liked the way you said his name, even if it wasn't in a particularly nice tone.

"No speaking unless you're being spoken to, miss," he reprimanded you like a strict teacher would, using his best Optimus Prime voice. Then, before you could talk back, he extended his left arm, putting it right in front of your face. He made a fist but allowed his middle finger to stay up, "What's this called?" he asked you, even though you haven't gone through this particular body part yet.

"Flipping someone off, sir," you answered in an overly eager, sweet tone, as if you were trying to sound like the teacher's pet.

You calling him sir made his spark skip a beat or two.

"Wrong." He lowered his hand and placed it on his metal thigh with a soft clang. He shook his helm in fake disappointment, letting out a long sigh. "It's a digit. And what do we do with digits?" he continued in a teacher's voice, making a specific motion with his servo to encourage you to answer his question, even though he automatically did so in his mind.

We put them inside disobedient girls.

"We flip people off, sir," you responded in a fake innocent, childish tone, straightening your back and smiling widely as if waiting for praise for giving him a good answer. It made you cringe internally but you also thought it was funny so the choice whether to continue talking like that or just leave was easy to make.

He snorted at your words, shaking his head in amusement once more as he brought his servo to your body and flicked your arm gently with his two digits.

"That's what we do with 'em."

"Oh, fuck off." You smacked his servo before he could pull it away from you. Even though you could barely feel the flick of his robot fingers, you still massaged your arm, hoping it'd make him feel at least a little bit bad, and he'd stop bullying you.

"You kiss your mother with that mouth?" He raised his optical ridge at your words, not being able to fight back a teasing smirk forming on his lips.

You could kiss me with that mouth.

As soon as the thought appeared in his mind, he immediately got rid of it, not letting it distract him.

"Tibulen, cadulen..." he began naming other body parts, and there was no way in hell you'd be able to remember those. "Glossa..." He stuck his metal tongue out, pointing at it lazily with his index digit.

A question popped up in your head, "You got saliva?"

For the first time, you were actually curious about something, expecting an actual, truthful response, but instead you got what Mirage was best at. Sarcasm.

"Oh, yeah, our saliva's made out of corrosive acid actually. Cool stuff." He shrugged nonchalantly as if what he just said was nothing. "Want me to spit on you so you can get the drill?" he asked overly casually, already slightly leaning in your direction.

He was having so much fun...

You grimaced at his question, even though you knew he was most likely joking. Most likely.

"Pass," you murmured under your breath.

"...But there are other ways you could... feel it."

His time to shine has come which he was very much aware of.

His unnecessarily mysterious tone made you snort quietly, an eyebrow involuntarily raised as you asked him with amusement dancing on your tongue, "Care to share?"

He tilted his head with a very, very sly smirk on his lips, which partly gave you an answer to your question. The realisation almost made your face drop but you contained yourself, and just rolled your eyes at his silent offer, pretending not to notice the heat spreading across your own cheeks.

"No."

"I didn't say anything," he responded in an amused, innocent tone, raising his servos in a defensive gesture.

"Yeah, but your eyes said a lot," you argued, the sudden shift in your confidence making you unable to find the situation as funny as before.

He made an unbelievable amount of butterflies awaken and fly around in your stomach, and as pleasant as it felt, you couldn't show him that.

"Optics," he corrected you immediately, playful superiority in his tone coming back just in time to crush you once more. He leaned in, making the gap between your faces a lot smaller than before. "And I'm pretty sure you're just imaginin' things," he added teasingly, the smirk almost challenging you.

His plan was working.

"Am I?" You tilted your head slightly to the left, your gaze never leaving his blue optics.

The intensity of your eye contact made him back off just a bit, before he shook his head in both amusement and surprise at the sudden comeback of your confidence.

"We're not done yet," he just said, which may have sounded like a warning but you felt like he was talking about something else than this game you were both playing. "I didn't show you everything," he explained, even though this lesson about his anatomy was the smallest thing occupying his mind at the moment.

You refrained yourself from frowning, feeling pretty sure that he'd already named every single body part of his possible, but you didn't want him to notice how little attention you were actually paying. So you just nodded, getting ready to hear more of that very interesting stuff.

"...Ever seen a metal dick?"

Your jaw almost dropped when your brain registered his shameless question. You couldn't even say anything to that, just unsurely shaking your head to show him that you, in fact, have never seen a metal dick.

And you thought he was about to offer to present one to you just now, but he just let out an amused noise. "Too bad."

And with these words, he transformed into a silver Porsche and drove past you towards the exit of the garage, leaving you confused, breathless, and wanting something more...

might make a part 2 for this with smut if you want

#this one is disappointing #didnt go as planned tbh #i will rewrite it someday i promise (remind me)#mirage x reader #mirage x you #mirage #mirage rotb #mirage x my pussy #transformers rotb #mirage transformers #rotb #transformers #wattpad

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mirangel · 4 months

Note

Yahoo~ if your request is closed please ignore this, i like your writing a lot＼⁠(⁠°⁠o⁠°⁠)⁠／ , can you write smut Where M!reader stuck in the wall (like between walls, ass out) and sampo coincidentally walks across the reader and it's feels like his dream come true, he immediately took this chance and fucks the outta of reader.if you want, makes sampo manages to convince Gepard to come along, maybe noncon and breeding? Thank you!

stuck in a wall with sampo and gepard !

cw: noncon, stuck in the wall, anal fingering, anal sex, voyeurism, m!reader

written by a minor, dni if uncomfortable

you have absolutely no idea how long sampo has been waiting for this moment to occur. ever since he saw that broken wall in belobog, of course he had to hint that there’s a suspicious deal there, and of course your sense of justice prevented you from ignoring it, you had to investigate. unfortunately for you, you got stuck in the wall that sampo told you that you needed to bypass in order to intercept the deal.

of course, he was right around the corner waiting for you, and he crosses over, feigning shock at the sight of your ass greeting him. “my! what happened to you?” unbeknownst to you, he wears a grin of the schemer he is. of course, you can’t help but demand to be freed, that he set you up. “of course i can help, but for a price.”

he tugs down your pants, just enough for your ass to show. “i know what i’m doing, treasure. let me do my thing.” sampo tries to reassure, and you felt cold liquid flowing between your ass cheeks. he fingers your ass with his pointer and middle finger, ignoring your pleas for mercy and honing on your moans instead, his grin growing wider with each adorable reaction you make.

“what the— sampo koski?!” another voice rang, this time of surprise and embarrassment. “captain!” sampo cheers, “just in time to see my little present for you. i know how much you adore him after all.” but gepard backs away, reluctant to accept this “present” when he of all people should have morals.

“if you don’t want to accept, you can watch of course.” gepard lets out a sigh, and you hear footsteps coming closer before his clothes shift, leaning against the wall. sampo wastes no time to fuck you, coaxing loud moans to erupt from you while he makes direct eye contact with gepard the entire time.

gepard can’t stop thinking about how he would treat you better than sampo would, how he’d lower your pants all the way, jerking off your cock while he fucks you gentle and slowly, unlike sampo’s rough and fast speed. his pants tighten with arousal, but he refuses to move from the wall, his eyes trained on how your ass jiggles when sampo’s hips collide with you, his face reddening at how well sampo’s cock stretches you out.

maybe he should’ve accepted sampo’s little gift.

SORRY IF I DIDNT COOK AS HARD HERE. my mind has been all over the place it’s insane

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movablue · 8 months

Text

(Repost)

SHIT...it's been a while since my last post. But I thought about Ghost and Mirages (again) and decided to draw my OC with ol' boy 😊

@stararch4ngelqueen, this be for you, hun.

#artists on tumblr #newartwork #artoninstagram #digital art #cod mw2 #ghost cod #cod x reader #cod ghost #simon ghost riley #ghosts and mirages #2023

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i-heart-marvel · 9 months

Text

Polaroid films | Noah Diaz x fem!reader

(Not my GIF)

Summary: When your best friend’s mom called you and asked you the babysit Kris while she’s out at work. You didn’t expect to see Noah come back so early from his work. After a while of talking y’all decided to catch up…maybe makes some photographic memories.

Warnings: fingering, making out, voyeurism?, first time writing smut, oral (M receiving), and slight nipple play?

So I haven’t seen the movie in a while so everything is gonna be weird or not right?! This is after the whole ROTB. Also like I said in the warning it’s my first time writing smut. Hope you enjoy!

——————————————<3———————————

It was lunch time when my phone rang. I ran from my room to the living room answering the phone on the third ring.

“Hello?” Y/n wasn’t expecting a call at all from anyone. It’s been awhile since her phone rang, or was even used. “Hey Y/n, how are you sweetheart?” Mrs. Diaz asked her voice wavering. Oh how I missed hearing her voice. She was like a second mom to me. I haven’t seen the Diaz family, or talked to them since Noah went and did a job for Reek. It’s not like I didn’t want to go see them or call them but it hurt knowing that Noah didn’t even bother putting effort into our long time friendship. Ever since he did that job he ignored me, didn’t even bother to come to our daily park walks. ‘Those were the most important’ he would say every time my schooling was in the way. I would drop everything and go with him without a question.

“Oh hey Mrs. Diaz! I’m good just been studying real hard for my classes. Y cómo está usted? Esta bien?” I was concerned plus confused. Normally her voice would be bright and soothing, but now it sounds rushed. “Oh estamos muy vein pequeña. But I have to ask you for a favor” Mrs. Diaz asked her voice now unsure. Mrs. Diaz knew her and Noah haven’t talked in awhile and knew it would be awkward if she came over to do this favor for her. Mrs. Diaz just ran out of options. “Yeah tell me! Que es?” Y/n asked hesitation laced in her words.

“Well I’m going to enter my shift in about an hour, and I need a babysitter for Kirs. Noah can’t make it since he’s working right now.” Y/n heard Kris in the background saying that he doesn’t need one since he’s ‘grown’. I chuckled at that, “Ay Kris you know I would never leave you by yourself. Anyways Y/n I was wondering if you can come and stay with Kris until Noah comes off his shift tonight?” I stayed quiet listening to her words. Many thoughts ran through my mind, ‘what if Noah tries to talk to me? Do I ignore him? What if he ignores me? What would he do when he got there?’. Hearing Mrs. Diaz on line saying my name brought me out of my train of thought. “Mhm… Yes I’m sorry I was just thinking um yeah sure I would love to. I haven’t seen Kris in awhile so why not?”

I honestly need a brake from my studying anyways, so babysitting Kris could be a breather. Just hope nothing awkward would happen. “Oh good I can pay you tomorrow and there’s snacks in the fridge, cabinets, and leftovers in the also in the fridge.” Mrs. Diaz rambling at this point telling me all this information. “Mr-Mrs. Diaz! You don’t have to pay you know? You guys are like family to me I can be there in like twenty or so minutes yeah? I will be there just don’t pay me.” I let out reassuring her that she doesn’t need to pay me. “Okay está vein just bring want you need pequeña. I will meet you here. Okay bye thank you!” Mrs. Diaz hung up the phone. I put the phone back on the wall, I stood there contemplating if I should do this.

I walked out of the living room going into my room getting ready. I put on some comfortable clothes and shoes. I get my book bag and started to grab some VHS tapes knowing what Kris would like. Grabbing my Polaroid camera, I put it in my bag so I can take some photos for my class. After getting everything i need I start heading out the door, but before I close the door, “shit can’t leave without this,” I quickly run back in and get my stashed chocolates. I grab some and put them in my bag. “Couldn’t leave without this,” I finally shut my door and lock it.

——————————————<3———————————

When I get there I knock at the door and wait patiently. Hearing footsteps nearing the door I anxiously start to play with my fingers. The door opens and reveals Kris.

“Hey Kris!” I said with a big smile on my face. He comes out and hugs me, “hey Y/n I missed you. Why don’t you come anymore?” Kris looked up at me releasing me. “Oh!” My voice faltering a bit, “I was just busy with my schooling Kris you know it’s very hard once you get older.” I said hands on his shoulder lightly turning him around him. “Okay let’s get on with this hangout bud!” “Yeah!” Kris yelled excitedly. We got into the house and I see Mrs. Diaz. “Hey Mrs.Diaz!” I walked up to her inviting arms and hugged tightly. “Oh hi pequeña! I missed you, but I’m in a rush” Mrs. Diaz quickly let go of the hug and kissed me on the cheek. She was rushing around the kitchen and living room, quickly gathering her things. “Like I said over the phone there’s food leftovers in the fridge and snacks…somewhere anyways I will see you guys later.” Mrs. Diaz went up to Kris and kissed her forehead, “oh mom come on not in front of Y/n” Kris whispered to his mom.

“Okay I’m leaving. Be safe you two Noah will come later okay? Okay bye love y’all” Mrs. Diaz quickly walked out and shut the door.

They stood there staring at the door. “Wow I have never seen her that quick” Kris said eyes wide, “me neither” I said my mouth opened in shock. I close my and turn to Kris, “now do you want to watch some movies” my voice raised a higher octave. I set my bag on the kitchen table getting out the VHS tapes. “We have some different options here” Kris turns around and looks my way and starts to walk up to the table. “We got Hocus-pocus, The Nightmare before Christmas.” I kept listening off the movies I brought and hand them to Kris for him to look at and pick. While he looked I got into the cabinets and start to get the popcorn out and some sugary snacks. I looked up at the clock and see that’s it one thirty. ‘Maybe after a movie I can take some photos.’

“Oh I think I would like this,” he showed me the movie The Snadlot. “Oh that’s a good one. You will love it more than you like it,” I said smiling at Kris and he smiled back. “Okay go put it in and I can get the snacks started!”

“Okay!” Kris exclaimed excitedly going to the tv and putting in. I got the popcorn out of the microwave and put it in to two separate bowls, and I grab the candy’s and bring them to the living room. “Here you go Kris,” I hand him the bowl and he thanks me. I laid the candy down on the coffee table and start to watch the movie with him.

——————————————<3———————————

We finished the movie a few minutes ago so I go to get up. “How did you like the movie Kris?” I asked while getting the popcorn bowls and candy wrappers. “I liked it, it was cool!” Kris got up too and got our empty soda cans and threw them away. “Are we gonna watch other one Y/n?” Kris looked at me while I was putting washing the bowls, “yeah we can watch one later.” I looked up at the clock and see that it’s three something in the afternoon.

“Hey wanna go to the park and take some photos? It’s for my class and I think you’re the perfect super star to be in my photos” I asked him smiling leaning my back on the counter with my arms crossed in front of me. “Mhm what do I get if I do be in your photos?” Kris questioned with one eyebrow raised. I looked at him playfully going along with it, “how about free ice cream?” I said while doing jazz hands. “You got yourself a deal Y/n!” Kris smiled and took out his hand for a shake. I shake his hand and start to get my stuff, “okay then Kris go get your shoes and we can leave.” I smiled as he quickly ran for his shoes.

——————————————<3———————————

After we went to the park and took some pretty good photos we got ice cream from a little shop.

We made it back at the apartment at six. I opened the door and let Kris in first, “how do you like your ice cream bud?” I asked while he walked passed me I ruffled his hair a bit. “It’s so good!” Kris exaggerated with a smile while putting a spoonful in his mouth. I chuckled at his actions, “yeah it’s very good, but don’t tell your mom I gave you ice cream before dinner.” I walked in behind him shutting the door and locking it behind me. I sat on the couch and looked at the tv that was playing on a random channel. “Hey Kris,” I look beside me to get his attention. “What?” He questioned eyes still focused on the tv, “what do you want from the leftovers? You guys have a different variety.”

“Oh I don’t care what you reheat, just don’t reheat Noah’s leftovers he said that there differently seasoned.” Kris said looking at you making quote on quote hand gestures. “Oh okay, yeah of course!” I said laughing and getting up to the kitchen and getting out the pasta. I see the container that’s says ‘Noah’s leftover’ I chuckled seeing the burnt food. “Okay well I’m reheating pasta” I said while taking two plates and putting pasta on them.

After heating them up I told Kris that it was ready. “Coming” he said while walking to his seat, “thank you Y/n.” Kris smiled at and I smiled back, “oh you’re welcome Kris.” When I was about to put the delicious food in my mouth I hear the door unlock. “Kris I’m home!” The voice yelled out. It was Noah. ‘Shit’ I yelled in my mind. “Oh hey Noah. Y/n’s here mom asked her to babysit me.” Kris said with a big smile looking at his big brother waking through the miniature hallway. I keep my head down avoiding to look at Noah playing with my food. “Oh.” Noah let out looking at the back of my head, “hey Y/n” he let out awkwardly. Noah walked into the kitchen looking at you before opening the fridge and getting a drink. “Hey Noah” I said keeping my head down, too scared to look at him.

Kris was confused his smile faltering a bit. “Why did it get so quiet all of sudden?” Kris asked innocently looking back and fourth between the two of you. I looked at Noah who is leaning on the counter with a soda can in his hand looking at me. “Nothing wrong Kris everything’s fine. Tell Noah what we did today,” I put on a fake smile and turned around to look at him hoping he can’t see through me.

“Oh well.…” Kris began to tell Noah what we did today. I toned him out and played with my food, occasionally I would look up at Noah who has moved to the table sitting right in front of me. We would make eye contact but would break it quickly as it came. After Kris was done he wanted me to show Noah some off the photos I took of him at the park. “They look good, I myself look good Noah” Kris said smiling while looking at Noah. Noah looked at you and began to show a little smile, “can I see them?” He questioned his voice was gentle and soft approaching. I looked up at him and sat there, “um yeah, uh let me get them.” I said dazed a little bit, nodding my head I get up and go to the living room the retrieve my film book.

I get it out and walk back to the table. Noah and Kris were talking about what Noah did today but stop when I got close. “Look they’re going to look so good. You’re pretty good at this Y/N!” Kris smiled excitedly and looked at me, “oh thank you Kris, you look handsome in these!” I said looking back him smiling while sitting down at my seat. I hand Noah my book gently I made eye contact with him and smiled a bit, he smiled back. “Thanks Y/n/n” Noah smiled grabbing my book and opening it.

“I was g-glad there wasn’t such a big crowd today since usually where I go to take those photos I can’t even get a shot.” I was surprised I said a word to Noah. I smiled and look at Kris, “maybe your my lucky charm bud. You should always come with me.” I said while chuckling and ruffling his hair. Kris smiles at me and playfully slaps my hand. “Maybe I should, I can get more ice cream.” He said playfully, “I would give you all the ice cream you would want for helping me out” I said while turning back to Noah who is still looking at them.

“Do you like them?” I questioned softly playing with my fingers, nervous for his response. Kris got up to look at the pictures with him “They look great Y/n” Noah said looking up at you smiling brightly, “you made Kris look pretty good!” I sighed, relieved he didn’t say anything bad. “Why don’t you take photos of yourself Y/n?” Kris asked looking up at you while also Noah does too. “Yeah why don’t you take photos of yourself Y/n/n?” Noah asked too with a teasing smile. I blushed, “I don’t think I would look good in films, and I’m too busy to take photos of myself.” I looked at Noah who is still smiling at me, I smiled back. “How about I take a photo of you?” Noah questioned already getting up and walking to my bag.

“Oh no, you don’t have to do that Noah!” I quickly exclaimed getting up from where I sat. “Wait let him Y/n you barley have any of yourself!” Kris said walking up and facing me, “you look good!” He gleefully said. I see Noah at my bag getting my camera, so I walked up close to him “you remembered how to take one yeah?” I questioned softly, not wanting him to do something accidentally wrong. “Yes I remember Y/n/n” Noah said turning around a getting my camera ready. “Okay now get ready!” He smiled at me, I turn around and look at Kris. I make a come here motion but he shakes his head with a smile and runs to his brother.

“Come on Noah you know I can’t do it myself it’s awkward,” I tried to get out of the situation. “Nope come on Y/n pose!” Noah said smiling and closing one eye, I let out a smile and put my hands behind my back. The flash goes off and blinds me for a bit I hear the Polaroid making my film.

Noah walked up to me with the film in hand shaking a bit so the process is faster. When he showed me I saw my form and my smile. “See you look so great Y/n/n” Noah said softly slightly moving his head down so I can hear him. “Thank you Noah.” I said just as softly looking up at him, I see that his cheeks are covered in red dust so were mine. We made eye contact for a few more seconds before we heard Kris’s footsteps, “see you do look good Y/n. No wonder why Noah said you were made to be in front of the camera.” Kris said smiling down at the picture than at me. “I’m going to put it in your book!” Kris ran off with the photo to the kitchen.

I go to sit on the couch, “you said that about me?” I questioned Noah softly. I sit on the far right of the couch with Noah sitting beside me, but he left us some space. “Yeah every time my ma would bring you and your camera skills up I said you should be in front of it instead.” He said blushing while looking at me. When I see his freckled face I can’t help but remember what he did, they way he ignored me for days. Didn’t call, visit me, or even come to our hangouts. I decided now it’s the time to ask him. “Noah what happened? Why did you ignore me? For like several days!” I examined softly so Kris doesn’t hear.

Noah was taken aback. He was surprised I even brought this up. Noah looked at me with sad eyes, “look Y/n/n-“ he was cut off by Kris yelling out, “Hey can we watch another movie Y/n?” Kris was smiling walking up to you two with more of my VHS tapes. Noah was thankful for Kris Interrupting him, he wouldn’t know how to explain to you that he works for a secret organization that’s nobody knows about.

I looked at him with a look that said ‘this isn’t over’. “Yeah sure bud pick whatever you want!” I got up and went to the tv to change the setup.

——————————————<3———————————

After watching the movie Kris had fallen asleep on my shoulder. Noah sat on the opposite side of Kris, his arm laid flat behind Kris’s head his hand almost touching my shoulder.

“Noah,” I said quietly facing him not trying move so much as not wake up Kris. “Can you carry Kris to his room please?” Noah looked at me and nodded, while he was carrying Kris away I was thinking of what happened earlier. I pulled the blanket up to my chest, the one Noah got me. ‘Does he do anything bad? Is he even my best friend anymore? What does he even do for work that he managed to ignore me so much?’

A door shutting brought me out of my thoughts. I see Noah walking into the living room, he looks up at me and sits on the couch. “Look Y/n/n earlier I wanted to say that-“ he stops and takes a deep breath. I turn my whole body to look at him, my knees almost touching his thighs. Noah didn’t know what to say. How can he explain in words what he works for, and that no one has even heard of. “Y/n/n I really can’t explain. If I could I would tell you I would, but I am really, really sorry that I had ignored you for several days. My job is just really complicated I’m dealing with all this shit that probably wouldn’t even make sense to you-“ Noah rambled on talking fast, but I heard every word. “What do you mean your work is fucking complicated? To complicated to call for a minute and say ‘oh hey Y/n how are you? I’m doing fine myself! Wanna go have our daily walks and talk about life.’ You can’t even tell me that you’re safe and fine ugh!”

I jumped up from the couch and let out a groan. “I’m still mad at you Noah. You had me thinking that our friendship didn’t even mean anything to you. I don’t even know if it still means anything!” I said shouting quietly at him as to not wake up Kris. Noah looked up at me and got up and put his hands on my arms. “Our friendship means everything to me Y/n! I didn’t call you because I needed you to be safe!” Noah exclaimed his left hand going to the my cheek, his thumb going back and fourth.

“If I told you what I do you would want to help but I love you too much to lose you to some evil aliens!” I felt his breathe hitting my face. He was breathing hard, I looked into his eyes to see them glossed over by tears. My eyes soften at the sight, “What are you talking about Noah?” I grab his hand that’s on my cheek, gripping it. “Evils aliens? Are you insane?” I drop his hand and back up a little bit not believing one word. “There’s no such thing as aliens Noah. Gosh you do you really think I’m that dumb?” I scoffed and started to walk to the kitchen.

“See this is why I didn’t want to have this conversation cause you wouldn’t believe me Y/n! But trust me please!” Noah begged walking behind me and grabbing my arm making me turn around. “Trust me when I say this I love you! I have always been in love with you Y/n!” Noah said smiling sadly a tear running down his face. He was looking at me with such desperation, he hesitates his next words “befo-before I went to do the job for Reek I wanted to ask you out but I was scared of what you would say, and when I found out a dude from space was going to end the whole world I decided to not tell anyone not even you. I was terrified of what would happen to you.”

Noah brought both his hands and put them back on my cheeks. I started to tear up from his confession. He wiped the fat tears away from my face. “You’re telling the truth?” I whispered still unsure but beginning to trust his every word. He nodded licking his lips still making eye contact with me. “Oh Noah,” I sobbed out hugging him my arms wrapping around his waist. He lets out a breath and hugs you back wrapping his arms around your shoulder tucking his head into your shoulder. “Noah I love you too but you can’t ever do this again. This time you have to me everything please.” Taking my head off his chest I looked up at him, “promise me Noah, promise that we will tell each other everything even if it’s bad or good.”

I said bringing my hand on his cheek. “I promise.” He whispered back his eyes still glossy, I smiled up at him. “Y/n-“ Noah whispered liking the feeling of your warm palm on his cheek, “yes?” “Can I kiss you?” He asked wrapping a his hand around the back of my neck. My eyes widened a little I meekly nodded. He leans in slowly noses touching, I feel his breath on my lips.

Then I feel his lips connecting to mine,kissing me gently, I kiss back. I never imagined kissing my best friend but here we are. The kiss was soft and slow and it feels just like out of a fairytale. I feel his mustache rub on the top of my lip. Our lips fitting like a perfect puzzle piece, but we sadly both pull away for air. I whined at losing contact. Our foreheads connect both of us out of breath. Noah opens his eyes and sees Y/n still has her eyes closed but with a pleasured smile. “You like that Y/n/n?” Noah said teasingly his thumb rubbing the back of my neck soothing me, and I feel his other hand on my hip steadying me.

I opened my eyes again to see Noah looking at me smiling. I pull back a little, “that was…wow.” I chuckled looking at his plumped lips, “can we kiss again?” I sheepishly asked smiling, he nodded and connected his lips with mine once more. The kiss was harder now with more passion.

Noah licks Y/n’s bottom lip asking her to slip in his tongue, so Y/n opens her mouth a little wider and Noah does just that exploring her mouth. Y/n moans at the feeling, loving every second of this. With their lips still connected they move to the couch. Noah sits down first and puts Y/n on his lap, both of her thighs warp around his hips tightly. His hands go to her legs rubbing them up to her thigh. When he gets to her ass he kneads it. “mmm” I moaned out running my hands through his curls. He pulls away kissing my check and heading down to my neck. “You smell good Y/n,” I felt his nose on my pulse point his teeth nibbling at my neck he starts to suck my neck. I throw my head back letting out a moan my hand tugging his curls. “You even taste well,” he swipes his tongue at new forming bruise. Noah let’s out strained breaths every time I tug his hair.

I feel his hands going under my shirt caressing my lower back. His calloused hands give me goosebumps all over my body. He keeps on making deep colored buries all around my neck, “N-mm” he got to my sweet spot, and I couldn’t help but moan loudly. I quickly bring my hand up to my mouth hoping Kris doesn’t hear any of this. He finally pulls away and looks up at me with hooded eyes. “Was I that good?” He chuckled with smile, “y-yeah that was n-nice,” I couldn’t even talk without stuttering. My breathing was hard at this point I was almost breathless, “you look so good like this Y/n/n wish I can take a picture,” he said bring one on his fingers and dragging it around my neck.

I closed my eyes trying to calm down at the sweet new feeling. “Oh I got an idea Y/n,” he said gently shifting me off his lap I get off and sat on the couch opening my eyes back up, “what are you doing Noah?” I see him going through my bag looking for something he takes out my Polaroid camera, “I want to take a picture of your beautiful self! I wanna remember this,” he states coming back to the couch and pulling me back into his lap. I move around in his lap when I do that he lets out a breathless moan. I feel his groin through his pants touching my core, “s-shit Y/n don’t move as much,” he said bring his hand to my hip tightly gripping it.

I blush at the sound he made, “sorry. Noah how are you gonna take the picture,” I looked at him seeing that he smiling at me his thumb going back and fourth. “Well I was thinking-” he went back to kissing my neck this time he kisses each mark, “I hold the camera close while my mouth is on your neck and you just sit there all pretty enjoying every second of it. You’re the new star for the camera.” I looked at him surprised, “we don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He started to put the camera down but I stop him, “I would like to,” I said blushing and smiling. He smiles back at me and starts to go back to kissing my neck.

I closed my eyes pleased with all this. His left hand is still on my hip this time making its way to my ass, his other hand holding on to the camera. He raises it up getting ready, but once his lips met my sweet spot again I throw my head back making a o shaped with my mouth. I hear the camera take the shot. Noah pulls away but not without taking one last kiss. I opened my eyes and looked down at him smiling, “does it look good?” I see him shaking the film. He smiles looking down at the processed photo, “yeah it looks very good. You look hot,” Noah looked up at me smirking I blushed again and I grabbed the film.

In the photo I see that my hand is holding on to his curls tightly, my head is pulled back, my mouth opened, half of my face is shown. I can see Noah’s teeth nibbling, and my neck is covered with marks. I smiled at the photo, “I do look hot!” I said chuckling. “Yeah you do,” Noah said grabbing my chin and placing his lips back on mine and we were full on making out. I hear the camera take another film but ignored it and kept going. I guess he ignored it to cause then I feel both of his on my ass.

His fingertips start to mess with the waistband of my pants. “Y/n-” he said bring his right hand to the front, “can I touch you?” He whispers looking down at his hand. I nodded looking at him raising my hand on his cheek I start to lightly kiss it making my way down to his neck. While doing that I feel him rubbing me through my pants, my arousal already seeping through. “mmm f-fuck Noah,” I moaned against his neck I lightly nibble on his tanned skin, “damn Y/n you’re so wet. All this for me?” He said breathless looking at the way his hand is working. I hummed too fucked to form a word.

His fingers start to rub harder putting more pressure. I start to feel the coil tighten in my lower belly, “f-fuck Noah I thi-think I gonna cum” I stammered out pulling my head away. I start to grind into his hand wanting him to go faster, but all of sudden he pulls away I whined missing his fingers. “Oh come on Noah I was about to cum!” I examined looking at him, “oh I know Y/n/n don’t worry. I want to really feel you this time hmm. I wanna feel those walls.” He whispered in my ear kissing under it.

I take in a shuddering breath, “oh Noah. Shit just do it already,” I said whispering desperately. When he hears those last five words his pupils dilate, his eyes full with lust, “oh I will.” He quickly makes us lay down on the couch, he turns me around with my back to his chest my head laying down on his shoulder. I yelped at the sudden move, “I just want you to see how good I fuck you with only my fingers.” He said smirking at me, our eyes meeting and my mouth opened with shock. His hands go under my shirt and starts caressing my stomach. They go up until they meet my breast, he quickly takes the end of my shirt and raises it up to my neck, “mmm they look so good Y/n/n!” Noah groans out kneading both my breast I let out a breathless moan.

I quickly work to take my bra off, but Noah stops me and does it himself. When he’s done he throws it down to the floor and goes back to fondle my breast. I throw my head back to his shoulder closing my eyes, “Y/n I need you to keep those pretty eyes open for me. I want you to see all of this.” He grabs my chin making me open eyes again forcing me to look at his hands. Noah grabs my nipples and starts to rub them, “oh~” I let out closing my eyes but opening just as quickly as I closed them. He let’s go one nipple and brings two fingers up to my mouth, “suck” he simply said.

I opened my mouth letting my tongue stick out, he quickly puts it in my mouth. Closing my mouth around it I start suck on it. He shakily inhales, loving the feeling of your mouth sucking his fingers. Slightly moving my head back and fourth, I swirl my tongue around it, I taste my arousal from earlier. I moaned at the taste Noah pulls them out and goes to my core, I help him pull down my pants and panties. While his other hand is still playing with my nipple, he starts to rub his sucked fingers on my folds rubbing it in circles.

Throwing my head back I moaned trying to keep my eyes opened but it was too good. Noah quickly notices and grabs my chin gently making me bring my head off his shoulder, “look Y/n, or I won’t make you cum.” He whispers into my ear threateningly I nodded my head now focusing my eyes on his slicked fingers. His fingers starts to go down my slit and makes it at the entrance of my aching hole. He teasingly starts to rub it, “please Noah” I whined turning my head a little to look into his eyes, “please what Y/n/n? What do you want?,” he asked slowing his movements.

“P-please I want your fingers inside of me, pumping me until I cum. Please Noah,” I whined gripping his wrist wanting him to do it already. All of sudden he enters without warning making me let out a big gasp. “Ohh~ fuck so tight!” He exclaimed turning his head and kissing behind my ear, his fingers pumping in and out gradually getting faster. I see my slick leaking out me, I hear it squelching every time he meets my folds. He brings his other hand and starts to rub my clit. “Oh f-f-” I moaned not finishing my sentence, his fingers reach the spongy spot that I love so much, “oh ye-yes right there Noah,” I grabbed his wrist making him go faster. I drop my left leg off the couch spreading my legs wider.

You can hear the way he’s pumping so good, the wet noises sounding like heaven to him. I feel his hard breathing hitting my ear, I feel his hard clothe member on my lower back. “Sh-shit I’m gonna cum Noah,” I moaned out quietly looking at the way his hands are working. I bring my left hand and start to knead my breast. Noah feels her walls beginning to tighten, “cum for Y/n/n,” he kisses my cheek and a few more pumps I let go of the coil. I start to come off his fingers, and I turn my head and kiss him to try and cover my loud moans. He pumps a few more times letting me ride my high. I break away and throw my head back breathing heavily, but when I broke away I hear him get my camera from where he left it last.

“Oh that was amazing Y/n/n. You did so good for me,” he said praising me kissing my cheek, “oh look at this beautiful cunt. Wanna take a picture?” He asked me smiling and shaking the camera a bit. I smiled back and agreed, “yeah sure Noah,” his two fingers were still in my hole so he hands me the camera. I try not to move as much since I’m still overstimulated. I bring the camera up to my face and look into the little window, and I saw Noah’s left hand sprawled across stomach his other hand at my core. I feel him move his fingers out a little to show how slicked they’re I whined a bit at the feeling. I take the picture and a flash goes off, I hear the film being processed. When it’s done I take it and look at it admiring it.

Noah fully gets his fingers out and brings them up to his mouth and sucks them dry. “Mmm- told you tasted so good!” Noah moans loving the taste of my sweet slick his eyes rolling to the back of his head, I flushed red at his comment and bury my head into his neck. “Ohh~ don’t get shy on me now Y/n/n!” Noah chuckles bringing his hand onto my head petting my hair, “how can I not?” I asked laughing. He chuckles and shifts a bit.

I still feel his rock hard on my lower back, “Noah?” He looked at me and hummed, “can I return the favor?” I asked looking at him he meekly nods red dusting his cheeks. I sit up and turn around my pants now at my ankles, so I take them fully off. I grab Noah’s hands and make him sit up and turn him so now his back is on the back of couch and his legs are now man spreading. I got on my knees in front of him, “you ready?” I asked smirking putting my hands on his upper thighs, “yes.” He said breathlessly.

I tug his pants and boxers down he raises his hips to help me out. When I fully pull them down his member springs up slapping his stomach pre-cum leaking from his tip. I gently grab it I bring my thumb up to his tip spreading the pre-cum. He lets out a moan and grips the sofa tightly. Bringing my face up I look into Noah’s eyes looking at him through my eyelashes. I kiss the tip going down all the way to his base, and when I get to base I lick my way back up. I feel Noah’s thighs tense up, I opened my mouth and suck on the tip.

Swirling my tongue I go deeper, sucking him with hollow cheeks going up and down. Noah groans and grabs my hair making it into a makeshift ponytail.

I feel every vein in my mouth, and my tongue licking every one. I moaned at the feeling loving him being in my mouth. Noah let’s out a groan, I looked up at him and see that he has his head back and eyes closed his hand still grips my hair tightly. I start to speed up a little closing my eyes, I bring my right hand up and pump what I can’t fit in my mouth. My left hand goes to his balls kneading them. “F-fuck Y-Y/n. Doing s-so good,” Noah stutters out looking at me he brings his left hand and caress my cheek, I opened my eyes again and looked at him his eyelids half closed and dazed. I see him move his hand away from my face and grab the camera that I put down on the couch. I love where he’s going with this.

This time I put him deeper in my mouth, deep throating him, I gagged a little. My salvia is drooling out of my mouth, “Y-mmm~shit~” Noah said pulling my hair making me go up and down. Tears are now pooling in my eyes, “mmm~” I moaned out, I keep on looking at him and see he gets my camera ready so I look straight at it. I bring my lips back up to his tip sucking on it and my right hand working the rest. The flash goes off blinding me making me close my eyes and going back to make him come. “You look so~” Noah groaned out not being able to finish his sentence, “fuck I’m close!” I start to pump him faster. I feel him twitch in my mouth and shoot his load. Noah groaned and tighten his hold on my hair.

I lay my left hand on his abs caressing them. I swallow his load, some of it leaking from the corners of my mouth, I wiped it away. I pull away letting him catch his breathe, I lay my head down on his stomach relaxing my mouth. ““Was I good?” I asked wrapping arms around him”yeah, yeah you were,” he said petting my hair he grabs the film and looks at it. He sees me sucking on his tip, my pupils dilated looking straight at the camera, my right hand on his shaft, my left hand laying in his thigh, and my hair being messy. “You looked so pretty sucking me,” Noah said showing me the film, I blushed while taking it.

“What are you going to do with them, the films I mean?” I asked laying my chin on his stomach looking at him, “well I was going to put it in my own book. For just me and you.” He proclaims, “here wanna take this to my room?” Noah smirks, playfully raising his brows and gently grabbing my arm making me stand up from my position. “How many did we take Noah?” I start to pick up my pants and start to clean up quickly not wanting to be caught by Mrs.Diaz, ‘that would be embarrassing’ I thought.

“We took a few good ones Y/n/n.” He said wrapping his arms around me from behind swaying us a bit. “Mmm okay pretty boy, I’m not waiting on you so let’s go,” I said unwrapping myself from his warm embrace. I tug at his hand eagerly, he quickly gathers the rest of his things and follows me into his room. I pull him in and quickly shut the door, i hear him drop his things and pushes me up against the door, “ready for the real round?” He said teasingly tugging at my shirt wanting me to take it off. I chuckled and kissed him on the lips, “oh I’m so am!” I said pushing him to his bed. We both laughed and enjoyed the rest of our night.

——————————————<3———————————

The next morning Noah’s mom woke up early to make the kids breakfast. She was walking into the living room noticing there’s still popcorn kernels and junk so she decides to clean it up. Once’s she got to the couch she sighed,”oh these kids leaving their messes and not cleaning it…up,” she stopped and saw a film. She picks it up and sees the most vile thing. She gasp and yells madly,”Noah!!” The whole house gotten woken up by her scream.

Noah wakes up and thinks shit.

Let’s just say Y/n and Noah were shamelessly embarrassed and forced to clean the whole house while Kris and Mrs.Diaz went out for breakfast.

——————————————<3———————————yeah so that was my attempt to write smut I really hope who ever is reading this likes it. If it disappoints you I am so sorry 💀😭 I was really going to continue this when they got to his room but my phone is legit not handling anything so well. So yeah tell me y’all think and if I should write anything else! 🤭

#noah diaz #transformers #transformers rise of the beasts #optimus prime #bumblebee #mirage #mirage x reader #noah diaz x reader #Noah diaz smut #fanfic #wattpad #smut #anthony ramos #fanfiction #barbie #oppenheimer #barbenheimer

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