Transformers Imagines

Sweetspark - Wheeljack X Reader Smut

The ‘Cons are everywhere. They surround you, closing in with their guns raised and ready to fire.

  You ready yourself, going into battle stance and starting to shoot. Your admittedly large gun shoots plasma beams, and you kick your leg out to hit a Vehicon in the emotionless faceplate.

  A huge slam is heard behind you. It doesn’t really bother you, probably just Wheeljack beating the slag out of some 'Cons.

  Except, you hear a yell that sounds familiar to Wheeljack’s. Now the fight has your attention. You whip around, temporarily drawing your optics from your own opponents, to see Wheeljack pinned under Breakdown, the Decepticon’s hammer about to crush your partner’s spark.

  Your darkest fear is about to consume you. You need to get over there. Fast. Or Wheeljack, your partner, the mech you’re in love with dies.

  Frantically fearful thoughts race through your processor like Energon through your fuel lines. You know it’s impossible to get through the barricade of Vehicons in time to save Wheeljack, so you are forced to get creative.

   You lodge your foot into a Vehicon, using it as a stepping stone to escape your many opponents.

   Lasers flows around you, narrowly missing major organs and limbs. You try your best to dodge them, but your swimming processor, crowded with terrified thoughts, makes it hard to focus.

   You find time slowly to an ultimate stop as you see the hammer fly down on Wheeljack. Your heart stops, your optics dilate, and you have very little idea of how you made it in time.

  Breakdown flies backwards, your fists digging mercilessly into his faceplates. His hammer sliding past Wheeljack’s spark chamber, leaving a moderately sized dent on his chassis.

  Breakdown ends up sprawled against a rock, quickly getting up and ready to attack. You hear the Vehicon troops inform him of a retreat order via Starscream, and he reluctantly retreats through a GroundBridge. The energy you’ve just exerted causes you to fall into Wheeljack, who has only just gotten up.

  He steadies you with a hand to your lower back, stumbling backwards a couple times himself. Both of you eventually stabilize.

  He sees your shaking frame and shocked optics, and his expression softens.

  “Hey, what’s the matter?” He asks, EM field reaching out to comfort your own, still filled with horror and fear.

  “Ah, nothing. Just a little worried is all,” you say, turning away from the Wrecker and forcing the shock from your face.

 "That’s not it,“ Wheeljack persists. "There’s somethin’ wrong.”

  “There isn’t-”

 "(Y/N).“

 "I love you, okay?!” You feel terrified at the sudden and unexpected confession.

  You watched his faceplates for a reaction, and his expressions ranging from initial shock to a smile.

  “So that’s why you were so worried about me?” he says gently, voice soft and almost quiet.

  “I-I suppose,” you look at the ground.

  He takes your servos. “I love you too, sweetspark.”

  You look up at him. He wasn’t joking. This wasn’t some stupid prank. His eyes were sincere, his EM field was sure.

  He moved closer to yours, and soon your lips met. Your optics fluttered shut, Wheeljack’s servo still on your back and his chassis pressed against yours. You walk him back into the rock structure, bringing your servos to either side of his face.

  “Wheeljack,” you gasp, feeling your interface equipment heat. “I need you…”

  “You sure?” He asks. “Out here?”

  “Yeah. Just frag me, Wheeljack,” you say.

  “Okay, sweetspark,” he says with a smirk. He kisses you again, servo teasing down to your panel and tapping it open. You gasp into the kiss as his digits brush the sensitive lips of your valve.

  “You’re soaked,” he says, breathless. For him. You feel your lubricants drilling onto his fingers.

  He teases a bit more, soft brushes at your entrance that drive you crazy, whining lowly.

  He thrusts a finger inside of you, making you cry out in delight. Primus, that felt good. He slowly pumped his finger in and out, pushing you to the brink of the best overload of your life. You grip his shoulders as you do, leaning into him.

  You still want more. You slowly trail your fingers along his door wings and ear fins, making his engines rev loudly and fans spin impeccably fast. You grin, still heaving from your overload.

  He spins you around so your against the rock structure, his own panel sliding back and revealing his pressurized spike. He lines up at your entrance, and you give a needy moan. “Please, Wheeljack, just frag me!”

  “If you say so, sweetspark,” he grunts, thrusting into you with his pressurized spike. You cry out as he fills you up, so good inside you…

  He moans at the sensation, your walls clenching tightly around his spike.

  “Please,” you gasp, “move.”

  He responds by jerking his hips, in and out. Pleasure racking through your EM fields.

   You feel yourself creeping closer to an overload, and you grip Wheeljack’s back, crying out as your pushed over the edge. Wheeljack overloads at the same time, with a shout, and pulls his spike out.

   You’re both gasping, and you finally close your panel. “Wow.”

  “Wow.” He says back.

  “I love you, Wheeljack.”  You say after a while.

  “I love you, too, sunshine.”