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lost in the sounds i hear in my mind
all of these voices
[TFA] "You trust me, don't you?" - Longarm/Blurr 
24th-Nov-2009 12:30 am
Me Grimlock feel stupid
Aha. AHAHAHAHA. You probably have no freakin' clue who any of these characters are, but if you take the time to read this (God forbid), enjoyyyyyy. Originally written for the TF Kink meme because I love this pairing.

Rated R to NC-17 for plug 'n play and spark sex. (....Those are how robots have sex. Srsly.)


He had accepted this mission from his master (unquestionably, of course) and knew what he was in for. This plan was not overtly difficult, but it needed to be time-consuming in order for it to be as efficient as possible. Trust needed to be earned, relationships needed to be established, and so on.

This was not the most difficult thing he had ever done in Megatron's service, but it was certainly lacking in excitement, to say the least. Patience, he kept reminding himself. Every nanoklik spent doing nothing was still a nanoklik for the Decepticon cause. Information-gathering was just as important as bolstering forces, he convinced himself. At least his disguise was flawless enough so that detection would not be a problem.

Still, there was no other way to put it – Shockwave was lonely.

And bored.

It was just so irritatingly dull, having to deal with that old fool Ultra Magnus, and that simpering imbecile Sentinel cycle after cycle. Being around them and their ridiculous idealism made him realise just how glad he was to be on the other side. Nauseating. Vorns passed in between messages to his master. Communication was far too risky otherwise. Shockwave was effectively devoid of any contact with intelligent conversation. Not one of the Autobots he was surrounded by was even any fun to play with. Wheeljack had his amusing moments, but since much of his time was spent tinkering about in his lab, those amusing moments were fewer and farther in between than one would normally have guessed. And Cliffjumper was just ... angry.

And then he met Blurr.

He'd been intrigued from the start. The racer had been placed under his command barely a decacycle after he had secured the position of Prime. Like all Autobots, this one was just brimming with naivety and almost indecent enthusiasm, but there was something different about him. That sleek, enticing build ... Shockwave had never seen its equal. He was obviously built for speed and not much else, but he certainly had a sort of... charm, for lack of a better word. If one was patient enough to sift through all of the excess chatter and get to the actual core of the conversation, Blurr was strangely fascinating. He took his job as an intelligence agent very seriously, and as his superior, 'Longarm Prime' was held in extremely high regard bordering on adoration.

It was almost too perfect. It was as though he was begging to be taken advantage of, and who was Shockwave to deny him?

Admittedly, it did come as a bit of a surprise when Blurr was the one to make the first move. He wasn't at all brazen as Shockwave had expected; instead, his awkward shyness belied his age. Something else that could have easily been exploited by another, but no matter. He was unwittingly playing right into Shockwave's claws, and that is precisely what he wanted.

Blurr had already proved himself malleable, and was now effectively offering himself to be moulded in the manner that Shockwave saw fit.

The first few times they had interfaced had been very gentle and slow, highly intimate sparkbonding. It was all very well and good, sure, but it wasn't interesting. Still, time was something that Shockwave had plenty of, and he planned to use every nanoklik of it to ensure that Blurr could not so much as boot up without craving his touch.

Like right now, for instance.

Even though he was trying his best, Blurr was still being a touch too loud for the Prime's taste. Those little whimpers, alluring as they were, would soon give them away if he didn't stop.

“Shhhh,” Longarm reminded him. He nuzzled the agent's throat and said in barely a murmur, “You don't want anyone to hear, do you?”

Blurr shook his head frantically, both hands clamped over his mouth, although it was clear from his trembling that the effort involved was killing him.

“Much better,” Longarm chuckled, his fingers ghosting along Blurr's sensitive side plating and making him squirm deliciously. The torment went on as the digits continued their invasive journey, hooking onto the joins between servos and plating before dipping under armour to stroke at important circuitry. The agent bit back a mewl of pleasure as Longarm revved his engine suddenly, the vibrations setting off every sensor within him. His internal fans kicked in as overheat warnings flashed insistently on his HUD. He was getting very close very quickly...

With every shiver, every little jerk and twitch Blurr kept grinding himself more and more onto Longarm's lap, making this little game of silence increasingly difficult to maintain. Longarm hid a smile. Tormenting the agent never got old. Forcing him to stay silent while at the same time trying to make him cry out was quite amusing. After all, Blurr would never dare disobey a direct order, however difficult he may have found it.

A noise from the outside suddenly shook him out of his thoughts. Footsteps... ones that stopped, coincidentally, right in front of the supply closet where they were hiding. Blurr made a tiny sound of alarm, earning his aft a warning squeeze from his superior. He tuned his audio sensors to hear who it was. Aah... Perceptor and Wheeljack. From what he could hear, they were discussing the latest upgrades to the Teletraan system. Knowing them, they could stand there discussing for megacycles, which could be either a very good or a very bad thing.

Longarm decided to make it a good thing.

He put a finger to his lip components as a reminder to his subordinate. Quickly he reached over to open Blurr's interface panels and plugged himself in, gasping as the connection established, buzzing through both their circuits. Blurr's optics widened at the unfamiliar sensation and his intakes spluttered, trying desperately to cool him down. He choked back a scream as a wave of pleasure hit him with the force of a steel wall.

“I was saying that maybe we should just – hey, did you hear something?” he heard Wheeljack say.

“Perhaps, now that you mention it,” came the mechanical voice of Perceptor. “What was it?”

“Sounded kinda like... a voice, maybe?”

Horrified, Blurr quieted his cooling systems as best as he could, trying desperately to remain hidden now that the pair outside were on alert. What on Cybertron was Longarm thinking?! They'd be caught at this rate!

Any further thoughts of reprimand were banished as Longarm suddenly bit down on Blurr's lip hard enough to bring energon to the surface, connection surging hard enough to finally send Blurr headlong into painfully overdue overload. His mouth opened in a soundless wail of ecstasy as he rode it out, feeling the larger mech tensing up underneath him in an overload of his own.

“Huh. Must've been some static or something,” Wheeljack said. It sounded very faint though, because Blurr was still silently trembling in agony, rigid with bliss, audio sensors filled with static, everything else filled with nothing but Longarm Prime.

“I see. Well, let us return to the laboratory,” Perceptor said. The pair walked away, completely oblivious of the two mechs with heaving intakes only a few feet away from them.


“Sir, if I may be so bold may I ask you a question pertaining our relationship and ... and the more physical aspects of it, sir?” Blurr asked with a salute. Longarm looked up from his computer screen. His interest was piqued now.

“Yes? What is it?”

Blurr looked around nervously, unsure of how to start. His lip components flapped comically before he finally mustered the nerve. Whatever was on his CPU must be embarrassing.


He quickly spun around, faceplates practically alight with embarrassment. “I'msorryforthetroublethankyouforyourtimesirI'llbetakingmyleavenow!”

“Hold on for a moment there, agent,” Longarm said with a chuckle. He leaned back in his chair, his optics shining with amusement. “Did I hear you correctly? Cybertron's top intelligence agent wishes to be treated as a – prisoner of the Decepticons we are waging war against?”

“W-w-w-w-w-w-w-w-well, I – er – ”

Blurr's gaze fell to the ground and stayed there. Inwardly, Shockwave could barely contain his glee. Goodness, but Blurr was so easily influenced. His processor was already straying onto a deviant path. This was going to be fun. He wouldn't even have to act.

“So be it.”

He got out of his chair and came round to stand in front of the smaller mech. For a moment Blurr was seized with an unshakable feeling of foreboding, but he dismissed it quickly.

Suddenly he found himself flat on his back on the desk. He was used to having split-second reflexes, but this knocked him for a loop. He gasped as his CPU finally registered the pain of being pinned.

“L-Longarm, sir?”

He looked up into the menacing glare of his boss, chassis held down by the larger mech's bulk.

“Hello, little Autobot,” Longarm purred, just a hint of his true voice seeping through. “Care to play?”

Dumbfounded, Blurr could do nothing but stare up into the face of his 'oppressor'. His systems were suddenly racing a mile a minute. This was Longarm Prime, and yet he exuded complete dominance. A shiver ran down his back struts. This was definitely a darker side he'd never seen before.

And he found that he liked it.

“What? So submissive already? Pity,” Longarm sighed mockingly. “I was hoping you'd have more fight in you than the rest of your worthless brethren.”

“H-how dare you!” Blurr burst out, his pride overriding his daze. He struggled in vain. “I will have you know that my skidplate is more bot than all of the Decepticons from all the reaches of the galaxy could ever hope to be!”

True to character, Longarm threw his head back and laughed darkly, the noise echoing round the room. “Yes! There we go! Show me that foolish defiance your kind is known for!”

Blurr struggled to get out of the “Decepticon's” grip, but Longarm had wedged himself in between Blurr's legs. He grabbed the racer's wrists and pinned him spread-eagled across the desk.

“You won't escape me,” he said ominously. “For you know as well as I do that no one will be coming to your aid, Autobot.”

“You – hnnnnaaagh!” Blurr's protest quickly turned into a moan as Longarm rubbed his knee roughly against his pelvic mesh.

“You see, this is all part of my plan for you, little Autobot,” Longarm murmured, his breath ghosting against his subordinate's audio receptor. “To make you overload so hard and for so long that you forget where and who you are...”

He nipped suddenly at Blurr's neck, making him whimper and tremble. Complete helplessness was such an exquisite look for him. There would certainly be more of this over the cycles that would come to pass, Shockwave would make sure of that.

“Then I'll short-circuit your processor by leaving you on the edge, between pleasure and pain so that I can steal you away...”

Longarm tightened his grip painfully on those thin wrists to drive the point home before relaxing.

“... And then I'll hand you over to my fellow Decepticons without a second thought so they can do with you as they wish.”

He could feel Blurr's spark pulsing wildly in its chamber, pounding as though it were trying to get out and away from him.

It made him smile.

“After all, that's what you want...” he whispered with a sinister chuckle. “...isn't it, Blurr?

Instantly Blurr's spark chamber burst open at the same time his legs snapped around the Prime's waist, bathing them both in bright blue light, still pulsing rapidly. His back arched off the desk as he begged to be touched without saying a word. Longarm decided to oblige him, having been teetering dangerously on the edge of overload himself, and released his wrists. The agent's arms immediately scrambled to wrap around him, gripping tightly enough to dent the metal.

“Sir,” he whispered harshly, “sir, please, I – ”

“Shhhh,” Longarm purred. “I know.”

His chestplates opened at last, and in a swift movement he smashed his spark into Blurr's violently. He could not hold back a low moan as Blurr cried out in sweet agony, engine revving loudly, writhing underneath him. Energy crackled back and forth as the light between them swelled to almost blinding heights, overload finally sweeping through them both.


“Blurr, what are those marks around your wrists?” Wheeljack asked, pointing. “Looks like... like you're missing some paint... did you get yourself knocked around again?”

“Hmm?” Blurr took a look. With a sickening lurch, he suddenly realised just what those marks were. Indeed, there were scrapes in his paintwork, and upon closer inspection there were actually servo-shaped dents. His optics widened in horror.

His laugh was too loud and nervous to be credible. Time to change the subject, and fast.

“Well, would you look at that? It looks as though my paint's been scraped off but really it's just some routine wear and tear from going at such high speeds so frequently. You may ask why they're around my wrists specifically but I assure you that such paint loss is a completely normal occurrence and in a normal place because I'm actually missing some paint in other places, which reminds me I've been meaning to ask your opinion on something – I was thinking about getting another paint job anyway and was wondering what sort of colour scheme would suit me because I know for a fact that racing stripes would be far too tacky for my taste. On second thought maybe I should go and ask Jazz's opinion because he seems to be the most knowledgeable about this sort of thing, no offense meant of course but rest assured that whatever input you have to give me I will take into full consideration. Thank you for your time, Wheeljack!”

And he all but flew out of the room. Bewildered, Wheeljack stared blankly after him.

“...Maybe I'm just outdated, but anything and everything that kid says flies right over my helm,” he sighed to himself, turning back to his flask of volatile chemicals. “I should ask Perceptor what the latest upgrades in audio receptors are, yeesh...”

Blurr did not stop until he got to Longarm's office (which obviously didn't take very long). The doors had barely begun to slide open before he zoomed in, saluting his surprised superior.

Sir,” he burst out with rapidly heating faceplates, “sir, with all due respect I am slightly concerned about the marks on my 'bot which have been left behind due to our – our rather forceful but by no means any less intimate encounter yesterday and I was wondering if –”

“Agent Blurr,” Longarm said, smiling warmly. “Come here.” He waved a servo in a come-hither gesture. Reluctantly the racer complied, unsure as to where this was going. There was something decidedly unsettling about that smile. He let out a squeak of surprise as Longarm suddenly pulled him onto his lap.

“Now, Blurr,” he said soothingly, “you trust me, don't you?”

“Y-yes sir...”

“Good. Know that I would never intentionally cause you any harm,” he said, pressing a kiss to Blurr's forehead, “and for that I must apologize for what I have done. I promise I won't do it again.”

“That is ... that is very reassuring, sir, thank you,” Blurr said, placated. “.........ButtobehonestIdon'tthinkIreallymindedthatmuchIjustwishyou'dbemorecarefulnexttimesir...

That was meant more for himself, but no doubt Longarm heard it anyway. He felt his cheeks burning with shame now. How could he have ever thought that his beloved Longarm Prime would actually wish him any harm? Granted, the mechs that he had been with before had never even thought to incorporate anything quite as – creative into their interface life, but then again Blurr hadn't been half as infatuated with them as he was with Longarm.

A sharp smack to his aft brought him back to Cybertron in a jolt, causing him to yelp.


“I said, I want you to return to your chamber, and do the best you can to repair yourself, all right?” his superior said, rubbing the stinging area softly by way of apology. “I will come by later to help you. It'd be best to keep this between us... it'd be awkward trying to explain this to Red Alert, wouldn't it?”

“....I'd rather not think about it, sir.” Blurr shuddered. Now that was a conversation he knew he didn't want to have with the medbot.

“That will be all. You are dismissed,” Longarm said, lifting Blurr off his lap. “Off you go, then.”

“Yes sir, Longarm Prime, sir!” Blurr saluted him once more before heading out, already brimming with anticipatory excitement.

As soon as the blue mech was out of visual range, Longarm spun round in his chair giddily. It had been quite a while since he'd lied so sweetly to anyone (and to their face, no less), and Primus how he missed that feeling. Blurr was really bringing out the Decepticon in him.

“Oh, little Blurr, if only you knew what plans I have for you,” he sighed in mock wistfulness. “If only...”

He of course had no intention of following through on his promise, but that was something that his plaything did not need to know. Everything was just playing out so well.

He smiled. Perhaps some stasis cuffs could be used to cover up those dents. He knew Blurr would be open to that. After all, he'd been molded that way.
24th-Nov-2009 11:23 pm (UTC)
...There's a Robot Kink meme....
24th-Nov-2009 11:29 pm (UTC)
don't you judge me
24th-Nov-2009 11:32 pm (UTC)
o bb i would never judge you <3
24th-Nov-2009 11:52 pm (UTC)
you're judging me as we speak
25th-Nov-2009 01:25 am (UTC)
we are merely typing words, not speaking piggy dear~
25th-Nov-2009 01:42 am (UTC)
Why aren't you online, you butt
25th-Nov-2009 03:09 am (UTC)
i'm online.

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