Rodimus X Professional!Reader Pt. 1

Rodimus x Professional!Reader Pt. 1

The first part is from Reader's POV and the second will be from Rodimus' POV.

Parts:

Part 2- https://www.tumblr.com/morsartis/712534482204377088/rodimus-x-professionalreader-pt-2?source=share

Part 3- https://www.tumblr.com/morsartis/712534804211662848/rodimus-x-professionalreader-pt-3?source=share

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Hot water beat down on your back as you rested your head on the shower wall. Everything ached. From your toes to your scalp you felt like one massive bruise. It wasn’t uncommon for you to get back to your quarters feeling drained and tired. Ever since the Lost Light had taken on human crew members your hands had been full, especially following your commander's death. A day that still weighed something fierce on your heart. You’d had to step up- despite the fact that you hadn’t been next in line to lead at all. There had been too much panic, too much grief, and you had done what you had always done in the face of terrible personal tragedy and chaos. You’d buckled down and taken over. Somehow that had led to you being promoted as the human liaison to the captain of the Lost Light. It was an honor certainly but it was something you struggled with. All that responsibility on your shoulders, Commander Jameson had grown livid when the promotion had passed over him and went to you instead. His contempt and judgment was yet another thing that weighed you down. He made it clear that he had little to no respect for you or your new position. It had led to endless fights over the tiniest things that shouldn’t have been fights in the first place. 

Sighing heavily you blinked past the water running down your face. The need for actual running water on the Lost Light had been Commander Hennis’ first petition when you’d come aboard and after her death it had only been right for you to continue that petition. You were grateful for it. Slicking your hair back you took another moment to simply breathe. One deep breath in and then the slow exhale. Shutting off the spray you blindly reached for your towel. Wrapping the soft fluffy thing around yourself you relished its warmth as you stepped out of the tub and into the slightly cooler room. You cursed when you realized you’d left your sleep clothes on your bed. Stepping into the main portion of your room you froze, the blood draining from your face so quickly you almost felt light headed. Clutching the towel tightly to yourself you straightened up immediately. Shit, you were way too underdressed, your hair was still wet and tangled, you were wearing a towel. 

“Captain!” You resisted the urge to salute if only because you feared losing your towel. Rodimus froze, optics wide as he glanced down at you. Jesus, you could die of mortification. 

“I-,” His voicebox made an odd sound you could only describe as a radio dial, “I didn’t realize you were here.”

“I thought to get an early night, Sir.” Oh you just wanted to curl into a ball and die. This was so unprofessional. God, you even planned your own pajamas to be professional in case of an emergency. Why did he have to walk in now? Why did you forget your clothes on your bed? You glanced at your folded clothes and felt a new mortification rising when you realized you’d done like you usually did and placed your underwear on top. Your very nice, lacey, underwear that you rarely got the chance to wear and only decided to wear tonight to make yourself feel nice. As a secret little pick-me-up that only you would know about. The red stood out starkly against your grey sweats and space program t-shirt, the clothes far too professional to even consider what you might be wearing underneath. Even the sports bra you’d chosen was cute with its little lacey front and tiny decorative bow. As if sensing your mortification you could only observe in horror as Rodimus followed your gaze to the clothes you’d plainly laid out. If it were even possible it was as if he froze and locked up more than previously. 

Was- was he blushing?! 

Your face was officially on fire you were simply going to kill yourself. Anything to escape the mortification. Your co-captain, your liaison partner, knew what you were going to wear to bed and he’d been around human culture long enough to understand exactly why you might have been embarrassed. Grasping at straws like it was all you could do, you tried to regain control of the situation. 

“Ahem,” You cleared your throat drawing his attention back to you, “Was there a particular reason you were coming into my quarters Captain?” 

Rodimus straightened up quickly his grip on his holopad tightening. 

“Ah- yes. There was- well… Ahem. To be honest-,” He was stammering, god you were never going to live down the embarrassment, “I wanted your opinion on a transfer I’ve been considering.” 

“A transfer?”

“Yes. One of the humans here.”

That wiped the embarrassment straight from your system. Technically Rodimus could transfer whoever he wished at any point so long as Megatron signed off on said transfer. It had been an unspoken rule since Commander Hennis’ and since your own tenure that all human transfers were to be decided by the human liaison. For Rodimus to even consider transferring a human without giving the full reigns to you must have been serious. 

“May I ask the reason for transfer?”

“Insubordination.” The way he said it left little room to question. His voice was grave and serious in a way you rarely heard from your usually compassionate companion. Clearly this was not a decision he had made lightly. 

“And the crewmember?” You asked after a moment when it became clear he was not going to elaborate. 

“Commander Jameson.” 

“What?” You asked the question slipping out before you could help it. To say you were shocked was an understatement. You had thought that Commander Jameson had been wise enough to keep his displeasure and insubordination pointed towards you and you only. 

“I think it would be best for both the crew and for Commander Jameson himself if he were placed with a different vessel.” 

“My apologies then Captain, I had thought that Commander Jameson had merely been targeting me due to the promotional passover that occurred following Commander Hennis’ passing. I hadn’t a clue that he’d been lashing out towards other higher-ups. Please allow me to talk to him and discuss these matters, I shall ensure he keeps his issues with the chain of command solely with me.” 

“That’s the problem!” Rodimus shouted, waving his arm through the air. You jumped. “He shouldn’t be treating you that way in the first place! You received the promotion because you earned it. Your crew would have been killed if you hadn’t made the calls you did and kept a level head. While Commander Jameson was too busy trying to prove himself you were putting in the actual work. You brought your crew together, you led them into action, you pulled them through that dark time. Not him! I am tired of hearing his baseless complaints about your leadership. You’ve gone above and beyond what was expected of you for the sake of your human crew and your cybertronian companions!” 

You could feel the flush traveling from your cheeks all the way to your shoulders the flattery soothing a sore spot you had been nursing for a while now. But still, despite Jameson’s clear dislike of you, you had a duty to him as his superior. 

“I understand that Rodimus and I thank you for your conviction of my skills,” You replied soothingly, adjusting your hold on your towel, “However, I have a duty to my crew. Commander Jameson’s grievances are with me and me alone. Outside of that he has followed all his orders from other officers to a perfect T. Unless there are incidents I haven’t been informed of..?” You trailed off waiting for a reply. 

“... No. He’s followed orders from other crew members well enough.” Rodimus admitted begrudgingly. You offered him a sincerely sympathetic smile. 

“Then I owe him the chance to discuss options with me first before the call is made for him. If he wishes to transfer then I will be happy to have him transferred, but if he wishes to stay then that decision should be respected as well.”

That was clearly not what he wanted to hear. Rodimus’ expression turned stony, every bit the captain he had to be instead of the mech you had gotten to know. 

“Please let him know that if he fails to follow your direct orders again he will be transferred regardless.” His voice was cold, a sort of anger that sent chills down your spine. You’d never heard anything like it. From Megatron you might have been able to keep the surprise off your face but from Rodimus? The change was too intense not to show your shock. “I’ve transferred the documents to you for review. Good night.” 

Just like that he was gone leaving you standing there shivering from the cold in your towel wondering what had gotten into the normally sunny optimistic mech. Swallowing nervously you shuffled towards your pajamas and got dressed. Everything would have to wait until the morning but already anxiety was beginning to set in. What would you do about this? What could be done to fix it? If you didn’t know him so well by now you would have thought Rodimus was angry with you, but you knew that despite what had happened his anger was directed towards Jameson. With a deep breath you sat on your bed and tried to relax. You’d get this sorted out just like you always did. It would be fine. And then you could talk with Rodimus about why it had upset him the way it did.

Reblog if you’re a kind and friendly mun who likes to write violent and disturbing stuff...

Let’s see how many of us there are!

Rodimus x Professional!Reader Pt. 2

Warnings: Kinda smutty?? Possessive feelings.

This is from Rodimus POV.

Part 1- https://www.tumblr.com/morsartis/712466508763299840/rodimus-x-professionalreader-pt-1?source=share

Part 2- Here

Part 3- https://www.tumblr.com/morsartis/712534804211662848/rodimus-x-professionalreader-pt-3?source=share

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Rodimus liked to think he’d done well in getting close to his human liaison, especially after what had happened with Commander Hennis when the humans had first come aboard the Lost Light. She had been a well respected woman, no nonsense, she had reminded him of Megatron in a way with her complete command over her crew and the clear experience she had had. It was a tragedy that he hadn’t had the time to get to know her the way her crew had before they were ambushed. She’d given her life to protect her crew and give them the chance to get away and in that chaos where her co-commander had floundered a new face had taken charge. You had been a bit of a nobody in the sense that while your crewmates knew you enough to be friendly you had faded into the background to follow orders. It was a little funny in a tragic kind of way to learn that you’d been part of a space program that was never supposed to see combat and had been put into Commander Hennis’ crew at her own request. He hadn’t had the chance yet to learn the story on that. But he had seen you rise up to take charge when everything had fallen into chaos. You used your own connections to the crew to help them first as a sympathetic shoulder and then as a voice of reason when it became clear that under Commander Jameson your crew would mutiny. Rodimus and Megatron had seen how Commander Jameson had been more concerned with humiliating challenges of authority than getting his own crew out of the firing line of your enemies, had seen you dutifully guide and assure your crew of a direction- taking suggestions and working to work with your crew as a unit instead of an outright authority. You had been the leader the crew had needed in the time of Commander Hennis’ passing. Which had made your promotion as the technical human captain and liaison to Rodimus obvious. 

Unfortunately Commander Jameson had disagreed. 

Rodimus hadn’t had much to say about the commander before your promotion. He was rude only in the way a former drill sergeant was, he wanted to be obeyed without question, but he also did his job to a remarkable degree. At least so long as you weren’t the one giving the orders. He argued and questioned you on everything and worst of all, you simply let him. Treating his complaints and questions as genuine no matter their absurdity. Your professionalism only served to anger the commander more as you failed to rise to the bait. It only proved their decision to promote you was the right one as your attitude towards Jameson had made the crew feel safe enough to approach you with concerns they felt were trivial. Sometimes they were, or other times they were genuine issues that wouldn’t have been caught had you not made yourself so open to your crew and the crew of the Lost Light. Despite not being a fan of overly professional types your warm demeanor had made it hard for Rodimus to hold any annoyance with you. You were no Ultra Magnus, which was for the better he supposed. Which made Commander Jameson’s constant complaints and accusations against you all the more annoying. Everything you did didn’t seem good enough to the man, he argued against your continued authority like Rodimus would change his mind just to prevent a further headache or fight. Instead it only made Rodimus all the more aware of you and your apparent inability to reprimand Commander Jameson’s insubordination. The more he argued with the commander the more he felt possessive of you. It had caught him by surprise at first, that swell of possessive fury when he’d walked in on the commander yet again arguing against some decision you made as you patiently explained yourself. He might have continued to keep out of it if he hadn’t noticed a tiny detail when the commander had finally stormed out to do his job, your hands were shaking. A fine tremble you hid by putting them in your lap and straightening your posture from where you sat at your desk, taking deep breaths in before releasing them slowly. When you’d opened your eyes, before you had noticed Rodimus was even standing there, you had looked exhausted and teary-eyed. All of it gone the minute you blinked and saw him standing there. That image had stuck with him like a plague as he continued to watch the commander make an ass of himself. 

Which was why he had already drawn up Commander Jameson’s transfer. Convincing Megatron to sign it had been laughably easy. All he had needed was your signature and then he wouldn’t have to fight the urge to wring the human’s neck. When he had heard the human crew was partying it up at Swerve’s he’d assumed you’d be with them. You liked to keep on friendly if still professional terms with them and if invited you had yet to turn the offer down, using it as a chance to ensure your crew got to their own quarters safely after drinking away their troubles. He hadn’t wanted to trouble you or potentially ruin your night with the documents and had simply planned to transfer and leave the documents in your quarters for when you eventually made your way back to your room to sleep.

Entering your room had been easy, as captain he had clear access to all rooms aboard the ship and that included his fellow captains. He didn’t even hear the water in the bathroom running as he made his way to where you had propped up your datapad. It was then that the bathroom door slid open and he was left to freeze where he was standing. Just like before you had that tired expression on your face, the only difference being a vague contentment you must have felt about heading towards your bed. At least until you finally saw him. You straightened up immediately, the flush to your cheeks caused by the heat of your shower draining away. Water trailed down your skin in distracting rivulets, the towel stopping at your upper thighs and pulled tight around your body. You’d begun clutching it like a life line as your eyes blew wide. 

“Captain!” You sounded breathless. Most likely from surprise but Rodimus couldn’t help the shiver that wanted to wrack through his frame. Heat pooled in his face as his fans kicked on faintly to cool him off. He knew his optics must have been blown wide. 

“I-,” His voicebox turned static as he attempted to ignore the way your towel left so little and yet so much to the imagination. “I didn’t realize you were here.” 

“I thought I’d get an early night, Sir.” Your voice was bashful and Rodimus was taken aback by the way his frame had heated at you calling him ‘sir’. Your eyes darted to the side and he watched as something akin to horror flashed quickly across your face before your eyes darted back to him involuntarily. His optics followed your line of sight and he froze, joints locking in place. There were your usual drab pajamas, he was more than familiar with them as you often wore them to bed and would come barreling out of your room in them should an emergency pop up that left you little time to dress. But that wasn’t what had made him freeze and lock up. No. It was what was on top of your standard sleepwear that had his mind going in multiple directions at once. His optics had seen the lacey set of panties first, a cute lace trim with mesh cutouts along the sides that would give someone an uninterrupted view of your thighs save for the lace, the cute little lace trim that made an almost guiding arrow to where your valve would be if you were wearing them. He meant to look away but had only succeeded in further short circuiting his brain when he saw the bra. It had the same lacey frills- though there was more volume to the frills than with the panties- down the front and he could see the rather cute bows that were stitched to the straps giving it the illusion you could unravel it and find-

Find-

Oh Primus. 

He knew his face must have been flushed, his fans barely able to cool him down as he couldn’t even tear his eyes away from the set. 

“Ahem,” You cleared your throat pointedly and he cursed himself mentally for staring, “Was there a particular reason you were coming into my quarters Captain?”

He straightened up so quickly it was a wonder his plating didn’t creak as his grip tightened on his holopad begging for strength. 

“Ah- yes. There was- well… Ahem. To be honest-,” He was stammering and he couldn’t stop. Looking at you wasn’t helping with the way the towel had slowly begun to slip and he was certain if you dropped it any restraint he thought he had would be gone. “I wanted your opinion on a transfer I’ve been considering.” 

“A transfer?”

“Yes. One of the humans here.”

Just like that you were back to being professional. Even still wearing nothing but a towel you managed to exude an air of control. Luckily for him just the thought of Commander Jameson was enough to kill any arousal he had for the situation. Though he wasn’t sure if the possessive annoyance that name evoked in relation to you was any better.

“May I ask the reason for transfer?”

“Insubordination.” He replied, unable to control the flat rage that Jameson had evoked in him.

“And the crewmember?” You asked. He wanted to scoff, it was obvious who he wanted to go. The rest of your crew had done well to integrate and even better to get along and follow orders. There was only one person it could have been and your apparent ignorance made that annoyance flare up all the more. 

“Commander Jameson.”

“What?” You asked the question clearly slipping out before you could stop it. Why were you so surprised?

“I think it would be best for both the crew and for Commander Jameson himself if he were placed with a different vessel.”

“My apologies then Captain, I had thought that Commander Jameson had been merely targeting me due to the promotional passover that occurred following Commander Hennis’ passing.I hadn’t a clue he’d been lashing out towards other higher-ups. Please allow me to talk with him and discuss these matters, I shall ensure he keeps his issues with the chain of command solely with me.” 

“That’s the problem!” Rodimus shouted, waving his arm through the air. You jumped. “He shouldn’t be treating you that way in the first place! You received the promotion because you earned it. Your crew would have been killed if you hadn’t made the calls you did and kept a level head. While Commander Jameson was too busy trying to prove himself you were putting in the actual work. You brought your crew together, you led them into action, you pulled them through that dark time. Not him! I am tired of hearing his baseless complaints about your leadership. You’ve gone above and beyond what was expected of you for the sake of your human crew and your cybertronian companions!” 

To his amazement he realized you were blushing, the flush traveling from your hairline down to your chest and Rodimus had to swallow back all the dangerous thoughts he wanted to voice at the sight. 

“I understand that Rodimus and I thank you for your conviction of my skills,” You replied soothingly, adjusting your hold on your towel, “However, I have a duty to my crew. Commander Jameson’s grievances are with me and me alone. Outside of that he has followed all his orders from other officers to a perfect T. Unless there are incidents I haven’t been informed of..?” You trailed off waiting for a reply. He hated the fact you were making a valid point, that he didn’t have a list of grievances a mile long to present to you other than his utter contempt towards the commander. 

“... No. He’s followed orders from other crew members well enough.” He admitted begrudgingly. You offered him a sincerely sympathetic smile that had the possessive feelings he was trying to valiantly to push down bubbling up like acid. 

“Then I owe him the chance to discuss options with me first before the call is made for him. If he wishes to transfer then I will be happy to have him transferred, but if he wishes to stay then that decision should be respected as well.”

He fought back the urge to scowl. If he had it his way Commander Jameson would be taking a surprise trip out of the nearest airlock. 

Compliment Part 2

Peter Maximoff x Reader

Tagged: @floraroselaughter

It’d been weeks since your rather awkward encounter with Peter, well maybe awkward wasn’t the right word for it. Hindsight had been a bit of an eye opener for you after that day and you had spent that time growing more and more embarrassed with yourself. It wasn’t that you were ashamed of it, not at all, in fact it was more the urge to keep doing it that had caught you off guard. Watching Peter the way you liked to do had revealed he didn’t have many friends and certainly even less compliments. Your one off handed compliment had seemed to brighten his week and as you watched him revert back to his old self you couldn’t help but feel… Sad. Everyone deserved compliments. While you yourself hadn’t been on the receiving end of many compliments that didn’t mean others weren’t deserving of them. Your mother had drilled into your head to be the change you wanted to see in the world and mostly you just wished people were kinder to each other. Especially with all this mutant nonsense that seemed to be cropping up. Perhaps you were tenderhearted with your belief that one should do unto others as they’d wish others would do unto them, perhaps you were overly optimistic in the hope that humans and mutants could coexist. You weren’t sure. 

But you did know that you liked seeing others happy. 

After having worked yourself into an embarrassed mess over the compliment a few weeks ago it took you some time to work up the courage to try it again. This time however you took your time formulating the compliment you wanted to give. It’d be something small, insignificant to most, but something only someone who was watching might think to give. Arguably you knew he was self conscious of certain things. It was quite obvious in the way he acted what made him jittery. So there you were in your shared class with your chin in your palm as the teacher droned on in the background. Peter seemed to be developing heterochromia in his eyes, that pale blue ring to them more visible now than before. But you had already complimented them. You didn’t want to come off as a broken record. Instead you had zeroed in on his hair. Years of watching your mother straighten her own hair had given you a clue what natural straight hair and ironed straight hair looked like. As track season had begun and Peter had taken to it you’d noticed that his hair had gotten almost curly at the roots. Why he’d hide such a thing didn’t make sense to you but you figured that was just something he did. His eyes darted to your own and he tensed clearly not expecting you to be watching, giving him a warm smile you hummed to yourself in thought. The smile was what made him pause. His lips parted to speak and you were reminded that he also had nice lips. They looked soft despite most likely being chapped. Kissable. That particular thought was set aside for later. 

“You’d look nice with curly hair.” You spoke, interrupting him before he could speak himself. The soft incessant tapping of his foot paused. For a moment he merely stared back at you. He blinked the words setting in slowly. But just like the last time you complimented him that barely there blush threatened to rise to his cheeks. His face was more round than other boys, betraying a youth that hadn’t yet left him in favor of puberty. He cleared his throat after a moment, eyes darting nervously around the room to see if anyone had heard or was paying any attention. Or perhaps he was looking to see if you’d been set up by someone. That thought rather hurt. 

“I look weird with curly hair.” He mumbled after a moment. His hand scrubbed over his face and you couldn’t help but smile a little more. 

“I think you’d look handsome.” You shrugged. To your fascination that blush deepened, his face reddened in such a way that you could clearly see the pink. Those interesting eyes darted between you and somewhere off to the side as if trying to think of something to say. Something to refute your claim. But you continued to gaze at him with a warm smile. 

“You have nice lips.” He blurted out your eyes widened the same time his did. That blush now a bright flaming unmistakable red as he ducked his head. “Fuck.” He hissed to himself. 

Huh. You thought past the embarrassment. You tried not to immediately deny the compliment as sudden as it was. Had he been staring too? Your face felt warm as your smile curled a little at the edges with the heat. Going more crooked as the embarrassment set in. Taking a steady breath you willed your voice not to crack. 

“Thanks.” Your voice swelled with that bashful feeling threatening to overwhelm you. Gnawing on your cheek you glanced away. When you glanced back you found him staring right at you, some strange expression on his face you couldn’t place. Unsure of yourself you shuffled nervously in your seat. Strangely enough you could have sworn you saw his pupils dilate but that was silly. 

He cleared his throat suddenly and flipped erratically through the book you were supposed to be reading for your class. Taking that as your cue you opened your own book and flipped to where you’d marked the pages. Self consciously your fingers trailed to your lips. You couldn’t help but let out a silent huff of amusement at what an awkward pair the two of you must have made. As the teacher continued to talk you glanced shyly back up at him and found his eyes. 

“I like your jacket too. It’s cute.” 

He shuffled around in his seat, teeth digging into his lower lip. A pretty deer in headlights. 

“I like the little hearts you doodle in your notebook.” He blurted and then flushed red yet again. It was clear he hadn’t meant to say that either. The confession caught you off guard, you didn’t think anyone noticed the little absentminded doodles you drew when you were struggling to focus. Much less noticed enough to realize what they were. Which meant that somehow Peter had been watching you like you had been watching him. All without you having noticed at all. The heat in your face returned but you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. 

“You do?” You asked, unable to hide the bashful tone of your voice. Those wide eyes skittered across your face and you wondered what he could possibly be thinking. 

“Yeah.” He answered plainly. “They, uh, they’re cute. I mean…” He trailed off clearly trying to think of something to say and grasping at straws. Taking pity on him and on yourself you found yourself stretching your leg out to rest your ankle against his. The featherlight touch had his foot immediately stilling, freezing him momentarily in place before he swallowed so hard his adam’s apple visibly jumped. 

“Thank you.” You told him genuinely. It was strange how that was the compliment that caught you the most. An unwitting admittance to being perceived by someone else. You had gone to pull your leg from his when his leg suddenly twisted to lock yours into place. Shifting so that the back of your ankle was pressed against the front of his. A new, surprising, development. Did Peter… Like touch? Did he want it? In all your time observing him you hadn’t noticed a preference for or against it. But if he wanted touch… You forced your leg to relax against his. Letting it rest there as if it were the most natural thing in the world as you turned back to your book. For the rest of the class period the two of you stayed like that. Ankles locked together harmlessly under your desks.

Testing the Waters for something naughty

I recently thought about how the old Tumblr was friendlier to artists and writers of smut/erotic content, and how the community labels started to give some of it back to us.

While writers went scot-free all those years, for probably the simple reason, people would need to read the whole posts to get to the smut, things like Smut Sunday still died down.

I like to see if there is even any interest on something regular for writers AND artists of NSFW content.

With the power of polls, my ideas. If you are interested in something like this, please leave a comment, and we will see if something like this comes to life.

I don't want it to be like Flash Fic Friday or similar events with a limited timeframe. If anyone out there is like me, when writing smut you need to be in the mood for it, so we can think about events at a later date.

Please reblog to spread it far and wide.

Rodimus x Professional!Reader Pt. 3

Warnings: This one is definitely smutty.

This is entirely from Rodimus POV.

Part 1- https://www.tumblr.com/morsartis/712466508763299840/rodimus-x-professionalreader-pt-1?source=share

Part 2- https://www.tumblr.com/morsartis/712534482204377088/rodimus-x-professionalreader-pt-2?source=share

----

“Please let him know that if he fails to follow your direct orders again he will be transferred regardless.” His voice was cold. Far colder than he’d ever wanted to use with you. “I’ve transferred the documents to you for review. Good night.”

He left your quarters quickly after that, the anger on your behalf feeding into the possessive hunger seeing you in such a state had caused. If he had stayed longer he feared what he might do as it was Rodimus stumbled into his room in a daze, the sight of your pretty red panties seared into his mind along with a still lingering emotion of possessive rage. Did you even realize it was the same red as his paint? Did you wear the pair often? His mind jumped to the times he had to sit through boring meeting after boring meeting with you, had you been wearing those panties then? That bra? His fans kicked on at the thought. The mental image of you in the lacey fabric had him groaning in arousal. He knew it was wrong, that he shouldn’t, but his hand found his interface panel latch without a thought and soon his spike was pressurizing at a near alarming rate. Servos wrapped around the base of his spike Rodimus hissed and sighed. He could see it in his mind’s optic, you bent over his desk while he was glossa deep inside you. Crying out for him so prettily, little pleas of ‘sir’ and ‘captain’ and ‘Rodimus’ falling from your lips. Mind too far gone to even worry about that sorry excuse for a commander. Those panties pooled around your ankles as your legs shook. You’d be so tight around his spike, he wasn’t even sure it’d fit. Just the tip might be all your body could take and it was that thought that had his hips jerking in arousal. Would he have to fuck you in his holoform? Would you like his holoform? He’d used it so rarely but when he had humans had seemed to think he was attractive. Attractive enough to hit on at least. He bit down on his lip to stifle a particularly loud groan at the idea of his holoform fucking you in the backseat of his alt-mode like those old Earth movies liked to show. Your pretty valve- there was a human word for it but his mind was too far gone to come up with it- snug around his spike with your legs wrapped around his hips. The moan that left him at the thought of your eyes all teary and hazy from lust and pleasure bordered on pornographic. Would you claw at his back? Beg him to fuck you against his own seats? Rodimus turned his optics back online abruptly realizing he was still leaning against the door of his room jerking his spike like an adolescent sparkling having their first dirty fantasy. Venting erratically Rodimus shuffled towards his berth and flopped down on it. Propping one leg on the berth and the other on the floor he let his helm fling back against it with a clang. Servos finding his spike again offlined his optics to the thought of you riding his holoform, still wearing those panties and bra. The panties had been pulled to the side so he could thrust his spike into you and the bra had been pushed up so he could mouth at your chest. He could taste the sweat on your skin, feel the burn in his scalp when you tugged his holoform’s hair. A new thought came to him unbidden as his overload neared. The fantasy changing to him watching you shamelessly rut against his spike like an animal in heat. His spike is big enough you’re able to wrap your thighs around it for leverage and the pressure and feel of your skin against his spike has his hips stuttering. You mouth at his tip, sucking and licking like its all you can fixate on as your body grinds and grinds and grinds against his spike. Your eyes meet his as you swallow what little of his spike you’re able to and start humping his spike hard and fast. Its over as quickly as it began. Rodimus overloads all over his own servos and hand your name barely bitten back as his hips undulate of their own accord. Even his valve gives a gush of transfluid as it throbs with want. His entire body seems to spark with that arousal. He’s still ridiculously turned on but the fantasies his mind wants to feed him now are far worse than his previous indulgence. He locks them away quickly, never to see the light of day again.