Rules

Rodimus getting head so good he cries

“You’re my good boy, Rodimus,” Your captain flushes at your words, shoulders tense as you kiss down his long, lean body. He always squirms when you tell him he’s been good, that you’re proud of him, but clearly relishes in the praise. Your questing lips soon arrive at his bare array, tracing past his half-pressurized spike to kiss at his anterior node nestles just beneath it. Rodimus whimpers, just the barest sound, hips arching up to follow you eagerly. He’s vivacious in everything he does, always so beautifully alive in the berth and open with what he wants. There’s not a thing he’s willing to hide from you like this.

“I’m so proud of you, Roddy,” His ventilations stutter, fans whining at your words, as your lips kiss up to the beading tip of his spike, lubricant spilling readily, “You’ve been so good, so brave. You deserve to feel good.”

His brows pinch upwards, helpless and needy, as his mouth flaps open upon the whining of his vocalizer. You’ve hardly touched him and yet his spike twitches and leaks fiercely at your words, desperate for your touch but even more desperate for your praise. Your wrap your digits around the base of him, giving a slow stroke upwards before holding him still. You steady his hips with a single hand, more-so to let him know you need him to stay in control of his body’s involuntary movements. It’s with familiar ease that you take him down your throat, urging yourself to push as far as you can. Rodimus’ beautiful responding moan, choking as if you’ve never done this for him before, is well worth the ache and sting of being opened so wide.

His digits cup the back of your head gently, soothing and recognizable pressure that keeps you grounded as you bob your head. You swallow around him, tongue laving the underside of his spike to press against those flattering biolights that flicker flirtatiously whenever you see them. Rodimus arches his back, trying desperately to not impede your newfound rhythm, chassis heaving with moans that graduate in pitch and volume. Let the whole ship hear how beautiful he is, how good he’s feeling, how much he deserves to feel this way. Your hand strokes what little of his spike you can’t fit in your mouth, a steady rhythm upon the last two segments or so that matches the downward movements of your head.

You slowly pull off of him unwillingly, but your jaw needs a break. Your hand taking up the slack to spread your combined fluids up and down the handsome length of his spike.

You make eye contact with Rodimus, his face flushed and helpless and open before you. Like he’s embarrassingly vulnerable and unable to contain the most intimate parts of himself, lip wobbling so enticingly,

“You’re perfect, Rodimus. The only one I’d want to call my captain,” You press fond kisses along his biolights, “beautiful inside and out,” up, up, and up until you’ve reached the transfluid dripping from his head, “All I want is to see you happy, just like you deserve,” You wrap your lips around the head of his spike, tongue readily licking up the transfluid spilling forth, anticipating the very moment he overloads. Rodimus arches off the bed, just as you’ve seen so many times, but it never becomes mundane. He’s the brightest star, the only thing you can see, as he overloads down your willing and ready throat. You swallow everything he has to offer, trying to keep up with how explosive he always seems to be in everything he does. You can’t help the grin that can’t quite spread across your lips but reaches your eyes anyway.

How could you ever bore of seeing a happy, satisfied Rodimus smiling up at you.

Then consider this a request for some spike-sucking action on Springer, you wonderful person

For a bot famous for his ability to keep cool during the chaos of battle, Springer was surprisingly easy to fluster. Back at the bar he'd been smooth in his flirtations and even smoother in the way he'd asked you to join him back at his place. He'd been appreciative but patient as you'd undressed and had (after very considerately mass displacing into a more manageable size) proceeded to absolutely wreck you with nothing but his fingers. Even as you had stared up at him, eyes glazed over with unshed tears, gasping and squirming in his gentle grip as he worked you open, he'd been playfully nonchalant. You'd cum around his fingers with a hoarse cry of his name and all he'd done was smirk at you before popping his digits into his mouth one by one, giving out a pleased hum at the taste. He wrung an additional two orgasms out of you, first with his mouth, then with his mouth and fingers, before relenting to your demands that he get some satisfaction as well.

His smirk as you straddled him, thighs spread wide invitingly, had become strangled as you'd opted to slide down his body until your head was nestled against one of his legs. When you made your first, tentative movement, just a mere brush of your lips against one of the many bio-lights decorating his spike, he’d shuddered before going completely still. You’d be inclined to remind him to breathe if you didn’t already know for a fact that he didn’t need to (which he had proved to you by enthusiastically going down on you and then remaining down on you for what had to have been a good 20 minutes).

It wasn’t until you had licked and nipped your way up to the tip of his spike and taken it into your mouth that he moved again, gripping tightly onto the edges of his recharge slab in a bid to regain some control over himself. His mouth had fallen slack and there was a flush to his face that had not been there previously. You smiled, as much as you could with a mouthful of spike, pleased with the reactions you had managed to tease out of him. Then you wrapped both hands around the bottom half of his length and took what was left as deep down your throat as you could. Your earlier ministrations had left him slick with spit and transfluid and as you bobbed your head up and down, moving your hands in tandem, you greedily took in the sight of his debauched expression, helm tipped forward to peer past his broad chest at you as he moaned, the rumble low enough that you could feel it reverberate in your chest. 

Even as he began to desperately attempt to tug you off of him (gently though, ever mindful of the magnitude of difference between your strengths) you continued to work him over with a single minded determination. The telltale twitch of his hips spurred you to take him further into your mouth then you had previously, swallowing noisily around him as he came, calling out your name with a hoarse cry. You pulled back, sucking at the tip briefly just to see him jolt, before pulling off with a resounding pop. You stared up at him coquettishly, transfluid dribbling out of the corners of your mouth as you moved to lean back on your hands, the rest of his release coating your chest in messy spurts of bright pink. You smirked against his lips when he surged forward to kiss you, smug even as he rolled you underneath him, large frame looming over you in a way that would have been intimidating if you hadn’t just brought him to pieces with your mouth.

are there any other tf writing blogs you'd reccomend checking out?

ofc

@rocksinmuffin @hotdogharvester (her stuff is on ao3 but it’s soooo good) @ratchetsboyfriend @rodimusboyfriend @patchworkgremlin @limited-practice @tfwhynoy @zenniet

i follow soooo many blogs it’s hard to keep up with all of them so this is just a selection of blogs i follow off the top of my head

also she doesn’t post her writing on tumblr but its on ao3 and it’s just 👌💦 spicy meatball @henriettadarlington her cassettes fanfiction is legendary

Can I please request Cyclonus with a trans male reader, cooling down after a fierce battle with some passionate interface? Maybe with some biting? Those fangs of his are just too good to pass up

//i hope the detailed genitals aren’t triggering in this i got pretty detailed since you said trans male and it was a bit of a toss up in what i should do HOPE THATS OKAY//

His armor is so heavily scarred after the battle, deep gashes run down his back where he was leapt upon by an enemy. Still, his frame doesn’t shake or waver. He’s as sturdy as he’s ever been. If anything, the battle only worked him up to a peak, now releasing all of his excess charge on you.

“Someone will come looking for us,” You gasp into his lips, Cyclonus’ clawed servos run down your stomach like cool streaks of water. He washes over you like a river, a force of nature you couldn’t stop if you wanted to. Despite your protests, you give into him readily, bare your neck and jaw to his fangs as they leave raised trails down your skin. It’s nice to be laid down after a heated battle, your body tended to in the most intimate way.

“Let them.”

The energy between you is palpable. Even when you’re separated by empty rooms, you can feel Cyclonus. When he bared his spark to you it felt one sided, but you can now feel his electric charge in the air, despite not having the spark to respond in kind. You feel him now, not just beneath your curious fingers, but everywhere around you. When you dip your blunt nails into the seams of his armor, you can feel your nerves sing with the charge of his pleasure.

You could feel him through the battle, the might of his fury and discipline. Could he feel you too? Is this what being spark bonded was?

Cyclonus is torn between taking his time to admire the muscles planes of your body, skimming his claws along your soft flesh and biting where he knows you’re most sensitive, or pulling your clothes away to give you the full force of his desire. Your quick fingers make the decision for him while Cyclonus is busy nipping at your neck, pushing off your uniform pants and spreading your legs around his waist. Your knees hook around the sharpness of his armored hips, pulling his willing body closer, and his sharp dentae sink into your shoulder when his warm interface panel bumps your crotch.

You can feel his spike pressurizing before you see it, the warm drip of transfluid pooling on your stomach. He bucks his hips into yours, spike pressing tight between your lips and striking your sensitive bud. You want him to spread you open, fill you up until it burns and gives way to sweeping pleasure. Instead, Cyclonus unwraps your legs from around him and pushes them together, your knees hauled over one of his broad shoulders. With quick movements that nearly jolt you up the berth, your conjunx fucks your muscular thighs, transfluid making a wet mess between them. The hard ridges of his spike stimulate your clit, making your legs tense and pulling a strangled groan from Cyclonus.

Your communicator chimes with a message from Magnus, but you’re too wrapped up in each other. Even if Cyclonus finishes quickly all over your stomach, you know him well enough to figure his cunning mouth will be between your legs before you can get off the berth.

Aldjalla uhhh don't want to impose too much by making it too specific but like Rodimus/Reader/Pipes and Pipes is just a pinning mess and he nearly loses it when they tell him to meet them in the rod pod

When he’d found the note on his berth he’d been surprised, not used to seeing handwritten messages when there were other, more convenient ways of communicating. The only one he knew who bothered with writing things out was the resident human, a fact that had him hastily unfolding the paper, interest piqued. He’d sped through the note, rebooting his optics before rereading it just to make sure that he wasn’t suffering from some weird glitch. No matter how many times he went back over it the message stayed the same and there was a soft click as his fans abruptly came to life, painfully loud in the silence of the empty room.

Now he was hurrying through the halls of the ship, hastily ducking behind corners whenever he heard someone else approach. He couldn’t help but feel as though anyone who took one look at him would instantly know what was about to happen and he didn’t want to be stopped for any reason. He nearly fell walking up the ramp of the Rod Pod, impatiently shutting the hatch behind him as he came aboard. There was a thin wall separating the entrance from the front of the ship and already Pipes could hear sounds that had his fans kicking into high gear as he nervously approached. The door slid open silently and since your back was to him you didn’t notice him coming in and though Rodimus was facing in his direction, he was too preoccupied to register his presence.

Pipes watched as you swallowed around Rodimus’ spike, taking as much of him into your mouth as you could while stroking what you couldn’t fit with one hand. The other was three fingers deep in his valve, thumb toying with his anterior node as you finger fucked him relentlessly. Pipes ex-vented heavily, the lewd display sending a rush of charge straight to his interface array. 

Finally taking notice of him, you pulled off of Rodimus’ spike, casually licking away the bit of transfluid on your lips as you angled your head to face him. “I’m glad to see you got the note! I take it you’re interested then, considering you actually came.” Even as you spoke you were still jerking Rodimus off though the hand that had previously been fingering him had ceased, moving to instead press down on his hip, and all Pipes could manage was a nod, too focused on the motions of your hand to provide a more eloquent response. Rodimus thrashed in his chair, loud moans filling the ship as he tried to make you increase your speed, though you ignored him in favor of beckoning Pipes forward. 

He did so eagerly, halting before you as you eyed his frame appreciatively. “Mind opening up for me?” You tapped his panel and the speed with which it snapped open would have been embarrassing if he wasn’t already aching for your touch. You traced the lips of his valve, swiping a finger through the transfluid already leaking from him before reaching up to grasp his spike, giving it a few pumps with your hand. 

“You’re going to sit on Rodimus’ face and once I’ve decided that he’s gotten you nice and slick then you’re going to ride him while I suck you off. Is that alright?” You smiled up at him from your place between them, face the picture of innocence even as you continued to stroke Rodimus’ spike while leaning forward to lick a stripe up Pipes’ and he couldn’t help but whimper as he gave you a shaky nod. “I thought so,” you said, smile growing brighter as you pulled Rodimus down onto the floor.