Optimus X Megatron X Strika X Lugnut - Tumblr Posts

Optimus/Megatron/Strika/Lugnut

With Optimus as the littlest little spoon in existence. Help him.

- - - - - - - - - - -

🌟Optimus can’t deny that’s he’s.... ‘intrigued’ by the very surprising relationship he’s noticed between Megatron and his subordinates- Strika and Lugnut.

The terrifying femme tolerated nonsense even less than Megatron did, and her attitude matched Lugnut’s serious and straightforward approach to... everything, quite well. Learning they were conjunxed was easy to accept. Quite a fitting pair they made.

Curiously, though, Megatron had apparently wedged himself into the mix- Well, no. No, Optimus supposed the *truth* was more likely that Megatron had effortlessly attracted the attention of the two with his dangerous charisma, as well as by their sheer devotion to the glorious mech and his cause.

However they came to be, Optimus continued to struggle and fail to look anywhere else but at the thunderous trio when they were all in the room together.

Who could possibly ignore the flicker in Megatron’s optics when Strika *shamelessly* took him by the hips and swayed?

How Megatron spread a palm down her chest and followed it towards that thick waist, cinched the infuriatingly slightest bit at the middle.

What else was he supposed to think about when Lugnut practically jumped out of his chassis when he was invited over by an expectant pair of searing red optics, beckoning him to come enthusiastically grope at his partners? Of Megatron knocking his hips back into a fretfully sincere Lugnut, eager with what to explore of his talented, striking leader first?

No matter how brief and easy to miss the moments were, how could he look anywhere else?

He’d become completely entranced by the displays since his fist accidental viewing of their wandering servos in a secluded corridor. The surreality of it... the shock that they would do something so publicly only subdued by the fact that most war frames he’d come to know thus far seemed right at home making private berthroom matters public.

The prospect of the interactions between them away from prying eyes -like Optimus’, for example- thrilled the smaller bot. What did they get up to when he wasn’t there to see it? When no one was? How did they balance themselves between one another- how did they *share*?

Optimus hadn’t imagined being thrust into this position as enacting mediator -and essentially ‘babysitter’- so soon into a truce. Or ever, considering the constant disrespect he received from Autobot high command of his competent capabilities. But here he was-

And here he was being a lecher about it, too.

A young bot without an ounce of the experience or fortitude of these giant war frames, leering at them from over his datapads and morning energon rations.

He honestly, foolishly thought he hit rock bottom when he was sentenced to captain of a repair crew.

And maybe wistfully dreaming about the possibilities of ‘Cons treating each other like genuine, doting lovers in the privacy of their quarters *would* have been the true end of his disgrace... *If* he hadn’t been *caught* doing so by one of the mechs in question.

“Something Ultra Magnus wants to bring to my attention, Autobot?”

Optimus barely restrained himself from jumping at the sound of that baritone voice, draped across his throne. It wouldn’t due for Megatron to think he finally had some power over him, but especially during peace time when he was expected to roll over and keep tensions low.

He’d raise hell whenever he very well wanted, because it was always only ever deserved in Megatron’s case.

“No.”

“Then keep your optics to yourself.” The ex war lord sneered. Tapping a claw against his thigh.

Optimus instantly knew what he was referring to- apparently Megatron had caught him staring at the lingering touch of his servo along the low of Strika’s backstrut during their little briefing.

Optimus turned a vibrant color and whirled away to shield his face with his datapad. Pretending in earnest to take notes all at once.

Megatron, thoroughly confused, watched his wiggling finials curiously.

—— ———

Lugnut was marginally less aware of Optimus’ staring, sitting through his evening fueling with his bonded at his side, basking in the almost imperceptible stroke of her fingers about his hip joint -apparently Strika’s favorite place on a mech. Totally oblivious to the optics watching them from afar.

Lugnut sat the whole course, murmuring in a way that Optimus had thought impossibly quiet for the boisterous ‘Con, unaware of his prying stare. Occasionally Lugnut leant in to return a touch to Strika’s powerful bicep in quiet awe of his lover’s strength- repaid tenfold by her following an assault on a certain part of him that was out of Optimus’ range of sight. Earning Lugnut’s approving growl.

Out of Optimus’ sight, yes. But goodness, could he imagine.

He turned a color he doubted he’d ever had before, shocked to the core at no end by the boldness of war types.

And then his luck ran dry, as it often did, and Optimus was left inhaling and choking on his cube from a few tables away when a piercing optic swept over him, looking him up and down.

Lugnut was bound to notice him eventually, and Optimus visibly paled.

Lugnut, who’d never learned of subtlety or patience, or letting small perceived slights on his person go, rose from his seat in his full glory and threw a servo towards Optimus -who nearly slipped down onto his aft, he’d gone so tense.

“You! Autobot! Explain your fixation for my mate and I at once!”

Optimus desperately fought for practically to override embarrassment. Explaining himself articulately and quickly would end the confrontation in a timely manner and reduce any further embarrassment.

Only he had nothing to say for himself. He *was* staring and he....supposed he *was* fixating.

So lying was the only option he had enough working processor power to think of at the moment, and it was never his forte -or his preferrence.

But desperate times...

“I wasn’t, I- I wasn’t looking at you.” He forced the waver from his voice.

Strika had never looked at him like *that* before, but back on Earth, Lugnut had looked like he wanted to kill him plenty, so that was normal.

“I was just thinking to myself, and-and I let my optics wander. It had nothing to do with yo-“

“Such weak lies!” Lugnut bellowed, forcing all optics in the near vincity that Optimus had been struggling to ignore to turn back on him in question.

“Your faceplates are flushed! You’ve been *watching* our coupling- your Autobot gaze is *unworthy*!”

Optimus thought he might faint from the head rush of Energon to his face.

Lugnut was nano-kliks away from revving his engine to the point of exhaustion, he was so loud.

And Optimus had no one to blame but himself...

“I- I’m so sorry!” He yelped, effectively damning himself and confirming the unfortunate truths Lugnut spoke.

He bolted out of his seat and speed walked -because he was definitely *not* running away right now, he *wasn’t*- to his designated quarters.

The few others who’d been present for the show parted way.

He didn’t know if he felt better or worse for having some of their sympathy.

——- ——-

“Jou judge our velationship unfairly. Vut does an Autobot know about the affairs of ‘Cons?”

Optimus, having lost himself in another hour of the report he was making back to Cybertron -as if they’d read it- felt his spark nearly extinguish.

He answered before he even turned to face her, desperate to avoid another skirmish like last time.

“Nothing- absolutely nothing, ma’am. *Commander*.”

And he’d never claimed to.

All he ever claimed was that feeling pinned to his pathetic little place in the command center of his single desk and monitor by a sweltering hot war frame at his back was the stuff of nightmares.

He was no coward -hideously humiliated by his recurring run ins with this particularly enchanting femme or not- and found a handful left of his old brazen self to dare and stand. Turning to face her in the few inches between his desk and her chassis. In his pathetic little cubby, he had nowhere to run. Which he definitely did *not* do last time.

Strika had earned his direct and honest respect around the time he started tracing Megatron’s digits across her supple thigh, anyway. He would at least give her this much. A small, unknowing, apology.

“Hm. So explain now vhy you stare at my berthmates so incessantly.”

Good lord.

Optimus’ finials flattened and pinched the slightest bit pink at their tips. Sharp as a whip, Strika would no doubt have realized she was chasing her prey into a corner at the sight- which meant the pounce would soon follow.

“Are they- I don’t, um... I don’t think I-I do that, ma’am.”

A furious lie- maybe he was much more inclined to lying when his opponent was the grizzly, gargantuan Strika, then.

“Oh?” She said, almost sounding rather amused by that. Where as Megatron’s approach was cruel sarcasm and Lugnut’s blatant fury, Strika’s must be the sort where the femme enjoyed to play with her food until it had thoroughly humiliated itself and was good and tender.

Optimus bit his bottom lip, Energon confusingly rushing from place to place and blotching his frame in a colorful hue.

Strika, sadly perceptive, but intrigued, was very forward about her thoughts on the display.

“Jou fluster easily. How quaint.”

Maybe she was using that word incorrectly. Or maybe she was being condescending.

Optimus was shushed from condemning himself further by a servo brushing at the tip of his audial fin and stroking it downward, silencing him immediately.

Time seemed to stretch on for light years as that digit stroked down towards his jaw, over to his chin, and grasped it in a firm hand to *lift*.

Back his helm went, face tilting towards the dim light above.

“Hmm. Gracious. Look how pretty.”

Strika stared down and Optimus stared back- wide optics and parted lips.

She turned to call to someone over her shoulder then.

“Don’t jou zink so, my Lord?”

Optimus, incapable of moving his helm, darted optics over to the blur of a dark figure with the light in his eyes, fast approaching behind her. Glaring red optics appearing curiously over her shoulder and seemingly out of nowhere.

Optimus went very still.

Silence followed, both mechs clearly unsure of themselves. Prompting Strika to encourage the lord in question a bit more.

“Lugnut caught him staring at us vile we shared our love.” The phrasing was purposely made whimsical and romantic.

As expected, it triggered a fresh, warm flush in the little mech’s faceplates.

“Zen he decided to vudely interrupt him, and ze poor thing ran away.”

Strika tutted sympathetically, and Optimus thought he might melt from embarrassment -or from gratefulness.

She leaned into Megatron’s side and murmured,

“He vas just enjoying ze show.”

Optimus made an aborted noise between a whine and something of protest.

But it was sadly all too true. He had been enjoying it... Save his spark, he needed therapy.

He hadn’t meant for it to go this far.

Optimus was just curious! He was just fascinated by the idea of these war scourges sharing affection, and trust, and loving whispers between one another. He was just floundering in the surreality of it- just unable to tear himself away from the amazing chance to witness war frames acting civilized and familiar. And careful and earnest. He was just...

He was just...

A little lonely....

Optimus remembered all too vividly his own mockery of a trine with Sentinel and Elita. He once had his own bots to come ‘home’ to- several soft hands touching him and hauling him into a heady embrace. Petting at his sensitive finials and kissing him goodnight.

The three of them against the world.

He was at a loss of how to process the three nefarious warriors’ own love triangle when he saw it for the first time, and never really learned how to move past it. Not in a way that was probably healthy.

He shouldn’t of poked his olfactory into their lives like this. He shouldn’t have assumed he was entitled to witness these things for himself, no matter how much he missed these moments in his old life.

“Hm. We should endeavor not to interrupt him next time.” Megatron finally spoke, snapping Optimus out of his daze.

Strika’s field bubbled and surged against the other two.

“Better yet, ve should *invite* him next time.”

Optimus didn’t dare to move, to ex vent or twitch or faint- or anything that would remind them of his presence down there beneath them. Pinned between them and his desk.

He didn’t even dare to hope- rather easy with fear and confusion muddling his processor.

There was no way that meant what he thought it did.

Megatron, however, had been seeming to test something in Strika with vague, careful words, and was seemingly *thrilled* all at once with the result it’d given him.

“Yes! Yes... hmm, I think you’re right.” He practically beamed, and it was so unlike the terror of Kaon he’d always known, Optimus wondered if he’d fallen through a black hole into another dimension this morning.

Optimus felt something uncomfortable stir in his belly and squashed it with a vengeance.

He was just projecting. He was just overthinking. He was just *imagining* things. He-

Megatron began to speak again over Strika hailing their third party on her comlink.

“I did have my suspicions, for some time mind you, but I never believed them to be true. That our little Autobot here was simply *shy*.”

Optimus flinched, spark in his throat.

“My, Optimus~ You should have told us you’d like an invitation sooner. I see no harm in another mech joining.”

“Especially vun so pretty.”

“Hmm, yes~ Right as always, Strika.”

‘I think there’s been a mistake’ was overruled by “Erm, um, um I-“ so Optimus promptly cut his rambling there.

The war frames focused their attention down on Optimus, trapped perfectly in their clutches. Delighting in his shuttering optics and trembling servo ‘trying’ to ‘pry’ Strika’s hand away from his chin to offer something like protest.

She mercifully lowered it away to rest on his collar, stroking down the expanse of his shoulder plating. Promising more fervent touch when the time was right again- which was horrifyingly, thankfully now.

Optimus steadied his gaze down to the third pair of pedes coming to fit themselves in with their partners’. Thick and green, and powerful enough to crush him with one stabilizer.

The gang was all here now, and Optimus waited for either that protest he’d attempted several times to make to finally come out, or the final nail in the coffin to be struck.

It was the latter, just his luck of course, as he could hear Megatron hum low into Lugnut’s audial that “Our curious little Prime would like an encore, Lugnut. My loyal subordinate~”

“An encore, my lord?”

“He vus most impressed with your prowess, conjunx. He vants to zee more.”

“Oh... He is?”

A large black servo, Megatron’s, cupped Optimus’ cheek in his palm and lifted his trembling gaze up once again to meet several starving, smoldering optics- angling his face towards Lugnut’s in particular. Strika resumed her gentle stroke down to his windshields, and all Optimus could do was stand and soak in the gentle touch to sensitive glass.

“Yes, Optimus simply suffers from a touch of shyness.” Megatron grinned -absolutely deplorable mech.

Optimus’ finials flicked in irritation. The effect dampened by the way he leant heavily into his tormentor’s servos.

“Won’t you show him there’s nothing to be nervous about?”

“Show him zere is plenty of jou to go around, and he needn’t vorry. Ve all get our due.”

Strika removed her warm palm to tug at a finial and prompt a full body shudder from Optimus’ painfully overclocked frame.

“Is simply time he got his.” She crooned.

“Primus.” Optimus effectively articulated.

Then someone he’d assumed would sooner smash him through the wall for insulting their dearest master at every available chance back on Earth had their mouth on his, purring happily and loudly at the way Optimus pliantly went slack against the desk behind him. Confirming that Lugnut’s prowess was truly as unmatched as this silly little Autobot had hoped -thank you for that humiliating assumption, Strika.

——

if I could shame anybody in the world, it would be myself and Optimus. Oh, look at that, I just made a whole thing embarrassing us both.

I made this for that thing I wrote. Pick the color you like best.

Lol I only colored one thing