Chapter Text
Jack’s breath caught in his throat, his hands twitching uselessly over his groin as Miko’s bra hit the cavern floor, her pale olive breasts bouncing slightly with her swaggering step forward. Her grin was wide and roguish, eyes glinting with a mix of awe and hunger as they flicked between his glistening cock—still half-buried in June—and his mother’s cum-streaked thighs. Beside him, June stiffened, her forearm pressed tighter across her chest, fingers splaying over her mound, though the sticky trails running down her legs made the gesture futile. Arcee’s plasma cannon whirred down, retracting with a faint click as she propped herself up higher, her clit still glowing faintly, a smirk tugging at her lips.
Jack’s face burned, his voice cracking as he tried to form words. “Miko—what—how are you even here ?” His eyes darted to Arcee, then June.
“Tracked Arcee’s tires, dude,” Miko replied, shrugging. “Saw you peel out with June—knew somethin’ was up. Didn’t expect this , though—holy shit, you’re a legend!” She clapped her hands, bouncing on her toes, her gaze lingering on his “monster” with unabashed interest.
Arcee chuckled, her optics glinting. “This isn’t a spectator sport—what’s your play?”
“Oh, I’m not here to watch,” Miko shot back, her grin widening as she reached behind her back. “I wanna play. You guys need a fourth? ‘Cause I’m all in!” She let the bra drop, her compact breasts free, and swaggered closer, undeterred by their stunned silence.
June blinked, her breath steadying as she rose from her shock, a flicker of resolve hardening her features. She straightened, letting her arm fall from her chest, her nudity suddenly less a vulnerability and more a statement. “Miko, stop,” she said, her voice cutting through the cavern like a whip, firm but not harsh. She stepped forward, planting herself between Miko and Jack, who flinched, his hands still hovering awkwardly.
Miko froze mid-step, her grin faltering, a flash of hurt flickering in her eyes before she masked it with a scoff. “Whoa, chill, June—didn’t mean to step on any toes. Just thought I’d join the party.” She shrugged, her tone light, but her shoulders slumped slightly, betraying the sting.
Arcee tilted her head, her smirk fading into curiosity. “She’s eager, June. Could be fun—imagine Jack with her, too.” Her voice was teasing, but there was a genuine spark of interest in her optics, her massive form shifting slightly as she watched.
Jack’s flush deepened, his hands dropping to his sides as he stammered, “I—I don’t know, I mean—” He glanced at June, then Arcee, caught between their gazes, his dick still traitorously hard despite the chaos.
June held up a hand, silencing them both, her jaw set. “No. Not like this.” She turned, grabbing her jeans from the pile of clothes near the pool, and yanked them on with quick, deliberate motions. “Jack, get dressed. Now.” Her tone brooked no argument, and Jack scrambled to comply, snatching his shirt and pants, fumbling as he pulled them over his slick skin.
Miko crossed her arms, her bravado slipping as she watched June button her jeans. “What’s the big deal? You’re all naked and banging—thought I’d fit right in.” Her voice was teasing, but there was a brittle edge to it, her fingers tightening on her biceps.
June finished dressing, her yellow sleeveless shirt settling over her frame, and turned back to face them. She gestured to the ground near Arcee’s thigh. “Sit. All of you.” Her voice softened, but the maternal steel remained, guiding Jack to sit beside her as he tugged his shirt over his head. He leaned against Arcee’s massive leg, her cool metal grounding him as June took his hand, lacing their fingers together. Arcee shifted to a seated position, her legs folding under her, optics fixed on June with quiet respect.
Miko hesitated, then plopped down cross-legged, and she pulled her shirt back over her head with a huff. “Fine, Mommy’s in charge. What’s the lecture?”
June squeezed Jack’s hand, her thumb brushing over his knuckles as she met Miko’s gaze steadily. “What you just saw, Miko, wasn’t some spur-of-the-moment fling. It’s the result of a lot of talking—weeks of it, between me, Jack, and Arcee. We didn’t just leap into this blind. It’s complicated, and it’s ours.” She paused, her voice calm but unwavering. “We’re not hormonal teens chasing a thrill. This—” she gestured between the three of them—“took trust, and boundaries, and a hell of a lot of care. We’re not dragging you into it just because you walked in.”
Miko’s smirk faded, her eyes dropping to the cavern floor, fingers picking at a loose thread on her shirt. “Yeah, okay, I get it. No crashin’ the family orgy.” She forced a laugh, but it didn’t reach her eyes, her bravado a thin shield over the rejection. “Guess I’ll just sit here and twiddle my thumbs while you guys figure out your kinky shit.”
Jack shifted uncomfortably, his free hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Miko, it’s not like we don’t—uh—care about you. It’s just… this is heavy, y’know? We can’t just—” He trailed off, glancing at June for help, his flustered blush creeping back.
Arcee leaned forward, her voice low and smooth. “I guess she’s right, kid. I might be new to this, but this isn’t a game you jump into. Though—” she smirked faintly—“you’ve got spirit. I’ll give you that.”
Miko’s lips twitched, a grudging smirk breaking through as she looked up at Jack. “Damn, Darby, your mom is pretty hot when she goes all MILF-y mommy-dom like that.” She leaned back on her hands, her tone teasing again, giving her a once-over. “Kinda makes me wanna see you step on me, y’know? ”
June’s eyebrows shot up, a surprised laugh escaping her despite the tension. “You’re incorrigible,” she said, shaking her head, though a faint flush colored her cheeks. She squeezed Jack’s hand again, her voice steadying. “Maybe one day we’ll talk about… something. But not today. Not like this.”
Jack nodded, leaning harder against Arcee’s thigh, her metal cool against his shoulder. “Yeah, Miko. Let’s just—take it slow, okay?”
Miko shrugged, her smirk widening as she stretched her legs out, kicking at a pebble. “Slow’s not my style, but sure, I’ll play nice. For now.” She winked at June, then Jack, her eyes glinting with mischief. “But don’t think I’m letting this go..”
Arcee chuckled, her massive hand resting near Jack’s head, fingers brushing his hair. “You’re a handful, Miko. Good thing we’ve got big hands.” Her optics flickered to June, a silent nod passing between them—agreement, trust, and a hint of what might come next, someday.
Miko stretched her arms above her head, her punk-rock tee riding up to expose a sliver of her toned midriff as she stood, brushing cavern dust off her shorts. Her smirk lingered, but her eyes softened as she glanced at Jack, June, and Arcee, still seated in their tense little circle.
“Alright, fam, I’ll bounce,” she said, her voice light but carrying a faint undertone of resignation. She jerked a thumb toward the thin entryway. “Left a worried Bulkhead out there pacing like a lost puppy. Dude’s probably dented a boulder by now, thinkin’ I got snatched by ‘cons or crushed under some rocks. Dude's metal, but such a worrywart. I’ll be fine—gonna go chill him out.”
Jack shifted against Arcee’s thigh, his brow furrowing as he tugged his shirt straighter. “You sure? It’s dark out there, and—” He cut off, rubbing the back of his neck, his fingers still tacky with drying cum, a flush creeping up his ears.
Miko waved him off, already swaggering toward her discarded boots. “Psh, I’ve got Bulk. He’s my ride-or-die—literally. Catch ya later, stud.” She slipped her boots on, then paused at the fissure, tossing a grin over her shoulder at June. “Keep that mommy-dom energy on lock, June. Might need it for me someday.” With a wink, she ducked through the narrow gap, her silhouette vanishing into the twilight beyond, leaving a faint echo of her footsteps.
June exhaled slowly, her shoulders easing as she squeezed Jack’s hand, her thumb tracing the ridges of his knuckles. The cavern felt quieter now, the air cooler against her sweat-damp skin as she rose, pulling Jack up with her. “Come on, you two,” she said, her voice steady but warm, a maternal thread weaving through it. “Let’s get back to base.” She glanced at Arcee, her lips twitching into a small, tired smile. “You good to roll, big girl?”
Arcee’s optics glinted, a low hum vibrating through her frame as she unfolded her massive legs, standing with a graceful shift of metal. “Always, June,” she replied, her tone smooth and teasing, though her gaze lingered on Jack with a flicker of affection. “Well, that kind of killed the mood. Should we be heading back?" After Jack and June, sharing a quick glance, nodded, she transformed in a fluid whirl of parts, her sleek motorcycle form gleaming under the cavern’s crystalline light, engine purring softly.
Jack grabbed his shoes, slipping them on as he shot a sidelong look at his mom.
“You’re okay, right? After… all that?” His voice was low, tentative, his dark hair sticking to his forehead with lingering sweat.
June’s smile widened, soft and reassuring, as she brushed a hand over his cheek, her fingers cool against his flushed skin.
“I’m fine, baby. Better than fine.” She leaned in, pressing a quick, tender kiss to his temple, then stepped back, nodding toward Arcee. “Hop on. We’re sticking together.”
Jack climbed onto Arcee’s seat, his thighs settling against her warm frame, the vibration of her engine rumbling up through his spine. June slid on behind him, her arms wrapping around his waist, her chest pressing against his back. Her hands rested lightly on his hips, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, and he felt her breath against his neck—steady, grounding. Arcee’s side mirrors tilted slightly, her awareness of them both palpable even in her alt-mode.
“Hold tight,” Arcee said, her voice buzzing through her com-system, laced with a playful edge. “Wouldn’t want June falling off after all that action.” Her tires spun briefly, kicking up a puff of dust, before she rolled smoothly toward the cavern exit, her headlight cutting through the dimness.
The ride back to base was a quiet symphony of closeness. The desert air whipped past, cool and sharp, tugging at Jack’s hair and June’s shirt, but the warmth of their bodies pressed together—June’s breasts soft against his spine, her thighs bracketing his—kept the chill at bay. Arcee’s engine purred beneath them, a steady pulse that synced with their breathing, her frame subtly shifting to cradle them both. Jack’s hands gripped her handlebars, his knuckles brushing June’s fingers where they overlapped, and he felt a swell of something—relief, love, maybe awe—tighten his chest. June rested her chin on his shoulder, her cheek brushing his, and he caught the faint scent of her sweat and shampoo, mingling with Arcee’s metallic tang.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” June murmured near his ear, her voice barely audible over the wind, her lips curving against his skin. “Just us.”
“Yeah,” Jack breathed back, his grip tightening on Arcee as a grin tugged at his mouth. “Really good.”
Arcee’s chuckle vibrated through them. “You two are mushy as hell. You're going to be able to keep your hands to yourself in public, right?” But her tone was warm, her speed steady, as if she relished the weight of them against her.
They reached the Autobot base as dusk settled, the horizon a bruise of purple and orange. Arcee rolled to a stop near the entrance, transforming back with a smooth shift of plates.
Ratchet glanced up from his console as they entered, his optics narrowing at their disheveled state—Jack’s rumpled shirt, June’s slightly askew hair, Arcee’s faintly glowing frame. “You three look like you’ve been through a scrap,” he grumbled, tapping the bridge controls while a shuddering vibration rocked through his entire form. “Don’t tell me—I don’t want to know.”
June laughed, a bright, easy sound, squeezing Jack’s hand as the green swirl of the Groundbridge flared to life. “Just a long day, Ratchet. We’re headed home.”
They stepped through together, emerging into the familiar dimness of the Darby living room. The portal snapped shut behind them, leaving the hum of Arcee’s systems and the faint creak of the house settling around them. Jack kicked off his shoes, collapsing onto the couch with a groan, his legs sprawling. June followed, settling beside him, her thigh pressing against his as she tucked one leg under her. Arcee crouched nearby, her massive form folding down to fit, her hand resting near Jack’s knee, fingers brushing his jeans.
“Home sweet home,” Jack said, his head tipping back, a tired grin spreading across his face. He reached for June’s hand again, lacing their fingers, then stretched his other arm to touch Arcee’s metal plating, the contact sparking a quiet warmth in his chest.
June leaned into him, her shoulder nestling against his, her free hand resting on his thigh. “Never thought I’d feel this close to you both,” she admitted, her voice soft, her blue eyes catching the dim light as she glanced between them. “Not like this.”
Arcee’s optics glowed faintly, her thumb tracing a gentle arc over Jack’s knee. “Guess we’re rewriting the rules, huh?” she said, her tone light but laced with something deeper—pride, maybe, or contentment.
Jack squeezed June’s hand, his fingers tightening around hers as he met Arcee’s gaze. “Yeah. And I wouldn’t change it.” His voice was steady, the flustered edge from Miko’s intrusion gone, replaced by a quiet certainty. He felt June’s breath hitch beside him, her fingers curling tighter, and Arcee’s hum vibrated through the room, a silent agreement binding them in the stillness.
The garage door rumbled shut behind Arcee as she rolled in, her engine’s purr fading to a soft hum. Jack lingered in the living room doorway, watching her massive form shift and settle into her alt-mode, her headlight dimming as she powered down.
“Night, CeeCee,” he called, his voice a low murmur, a faint grin tugging at his lips.
Her com buzzed faintly in reply, a sleepy “G’night, Jack,” before the garage fell silent, her sleek frame glinting faintly in the dark.
June stretched beside him, her yellow sleeveless shirt riding up to reveal a strip of skin above her jeans, still faintly sticky with sweat and cum. She wrinkled her nose, running a hand through her tousled hair.
“God, I feel grimy,” she muttered, her tone half-exasperated, half-amused. She glanced at Jack, her blue eyes catching the dim light, and nodded toward the stairs. “C’mon, let’s clean up.”
Jack followed her up, his sneakers scuffing the hardwood steps, the day’s heat still clinging to his skin—dust, sweat, and the musky residue of their cavern tryst. At the top, he paused outside the bathroom, rubbing the back of his neck, his shirt damp against his chest.
“You go first,” he offered, stepping back with a sheepish grin, his dark hair falling into his eyes. “Ladies first, right?”
June stopped mid-stride, turning to face him, one brow arching high.
“Oh, really?” Her voice was a teasing drawl, laced with a challenge. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her tight jeans, her gaze locking onto his as she shimmied them down. The denim slid over her hips with a slow, deliberate wiggle, her plump ass flagging in the air, the curve of her cheeks catching the hallway light. Her pussy peeked out briefly, lips still flushed from earlier, and her asshole winked as she bent slightly, kicking the jeans aside. She straightened, her bare back a smooth expanse, muscles shifting under her skin as she sauntered toward the bathroom, hips swaying with every step.
Jack froze, mouth dry, his cock stirring in his pants as heat surged through him. Her ass—firm, round, and desperately tempting—jiggled faintly with each move, and the sight of her naked confidence hit him like a punch. She reached the bathroom door, then poked her head around the corner, threading a hand through her hair like a model stepping out of a pool, eyes glinting with playful authority.
“Get in here, Jack,” she ordered, her tone sharp but curling with a smirk. “Now. No arguing.”
He blinked, stunned, his dick stiffening fully against his zipper as he fumbled with his shirt.
“Uh—yeah, okay,” he stammered, yanking the fabric over his head, his chest bare and still tacky with sweat. He kicked off his shoes, nearly tripping as he shed his pants, boxers following in a clumsy heap. “Miko was right,” he said, half to himself, his voice husky as he straightened, already starting to strip, cock bobbing free. “You’re a hell of a mommy dom.”
June’s smirk widened, a low chuckle escaping her as she turned the shower on, steam curling into the air. “Well, if you're good, maybe I'll step on you,” she shot back, stepping under the spray, water sluicing over her shoulders, down her breasts, and tracing the dip of her spine. She crooked a finger at him, beckoning. “Move it, big boy.”
Jack stepped in after her, the hot water hitting his skin like a shock, cascading over his broad shoulders and chest, washing away the grime. The shower was tight, their bodies brushing as he reached for her, his hands finding her hips. She turned into him, her wet skin slick against his, and for a moment, they just stood there, the steam wrapping around them. His cock pressed against her thigh, hard and insistent, but he paused, his hands sliding up to her waist, pulling her into a slow, gentle hug. Her breasts flattened against his chest, nipples grazing his skin, and she tilted her head up, her lips brushing his in a soft, lingering kiss.
“Hi,” she murmured against his mouth, her breath warm and minty from the toothpaste she’d swiped earlier, her hands resting on his shoulders, fingers curling into his damp hair.
“Hi,” he echoed, his voice a low rumble, kissing her back with a tenderness that belied the ache in his groin. His lips moved over hers, slow and deliberate, tasting the water and the faint salt of her skin. Her tongue flicked out, teasing his, and he groaned softly, his hands sliding up her back, tracing the knobs of her spine with care.
She pulled back slightly, her eyes half-lidded, water beading on her lashes.
“Turn around,” she said, her tone softening, though that commanding edge lingered. He obeyed, facing the spray, and she grabbed the soap, lathering it between her hands. Her fingers glided over his shoulders, firm but gentle, kneading the tension from his muscles. Suds trailed down his back, over the curve of his ass, and she followed them, washing him with a slow, deliberate touch, her thumbs pressing into the dip above his tailbone.
“Fuck, that feels good,” he muttered, head tipping forward, water streaming through his hair. His cock throbbed, but the moment held a quiet intimacy, her hands grounding him.
“My turn,” he said after a beat, turning to face her, soap in hand. He lathered her shoulders, his fingers slipping over her collarbone, down to her breasts. He cupped them gently, th umbs brushing her nipples, watching them stiffen under the warm water. She sighed, a soft, needy sound, leaning into his touch, and he moved lower, washing her stomach, her hips, his hands lingering where her thighs met, careful not to push too far.
She smirked, catching his wrist as he hesitated near her pussy.
“Tease,” she accused, her voice husky, stepping closer so his cock nudged her belly. She grabbed the shampoo, pouring it into her palm, and reached up, massaging it into his scalp. Her fingers dug in, firm and sure, and he groaned, eyes fluttering shut as she worked, suds dripping down his neck.
“God, you’re good at this,” he said, his hands finding her ass, squeezing lightly as she rinsed his hair, water splashing between them. She tilted her head back, letting him return the favor, his fingers threading through her wet strands, massaging her scalp with the same care. Her eyes closed, a faint moan slipping out, and he felt a surge of arousal tempered by something softer—pride, maybe, or love.
They stood there, water pounding down, bodies pressed close, his cock hard against her, her pussy brushing his thigh. But they lingered in the pause, kissing again—slow, deep, playful—her teeth nipping his lip, his tongue chasing hers. The steam thickened, the air heavy with heat and their mingled scents, and for now, it was enough—just them, washing away the day, wrapped in each other’s touch.
"God, I missed being with a man," June sighed, still stroking her palms along his sides down to his hips.
The shower’s steam thickened around Jack and June, the hot water drumming against their skin as they stood pressed together, bodies slick and gleaming. June’s hands rested on his shoulders, her fingers tracing the taut lines of his muscles, while Jack’s palms cupped her ass, the firm curve of her cheeks filling his grip. His cock, rigid and pulsing, nudged against her belly, leaving a faint smear of precum on her wet skin, and her pussy brushed his thigh, the heat of her arousal palpable even under the spray. Their kisses had softened, but the air crackled with an unspoken shift, their breaths mingling in the damp heat.
June pulled back, her blue eyes glinting with mischief as she dragged a hand down his chest, nails grazing his nipple, making him shiver.
“You’re filthy, Jack,” she purred, her voice low and teasing, wrapping her fingers around his cock. The soap made her grip slippery, and she stroked him slowly, her thumb circling the thick head, smearing the bead of precum that welled up. “Getting hard for your mommy like this—such a naughty boy.”
Jack groaned, his head tipping back as water streamed over his face, his dark hair plastered to his forehead.
“Fuck, Mom,” he rasped, his hips bucking into her hand, the word slipping out raw and needy. “Can’t help it—you’re too damn hot.” His hand slid from her ass to her pussy, fingers brushing her smooth, hairless lips—still flushed and swollen from earlier—before slipping between them, finding her clit with a practiced touch.
She gasped, her free hand gripping his bicep as her thighs parted slightly, giving him room. “Oh, fuck mom sounds like a good idea,” she laughed breathlessly, her tone playful but edged with heat, stroking him faster, her fist tightening around his shaft. “Talking dirty to me like that? What’s my baby boy gonna do, huh? Jerk off to his mommy’s pussy all night?”
He smirked, his fingers circling her clit, then dipping lower to tease her entrance, feeling her slickness even under the water.
“Maybe I will,” he shot back, voice husky, sliding two fingers inside her, curling them against her tight walls. “Gonna make you cum first, though—love feeling you squeeze me, Mom.” Her pussy clenched around him, hot and wet, and he thrust his fingers deeper, matching her rhythm on his cock.
June’s breath hitched, her head tilting forward so her wet hair curtained her face, water dripping from the ends onto his chest.
“Goddamn, Jack,” she moaned, her hand pumping him harder, the soap sudsing up between her fingers as she worked his length, her thumb pressing into the sensitive underside of his glans. “You’re so big—my little stud, fucking his mommy’s hand like this. You love it, don’t you? Knowing I’m all yours?”
“Fuck yeah,” he growled, his free hand grabbing her breast, squeezing the soft weight, his thumb flicking her stiff nipple. “Love how you take me, Mom—every fucking inch.”
His fingers sped up, plunging into her, his palm grinding against her clit, and she whimpered, her knees trembling as she leaned into him, her strokes on his cock growing erratic.
Their dirty talk spiraled, raw and intimate, mother and son lost in the heat of it.
“Such a naughty boy,” June teased, her voice breaking as his fingers hit just the right spot, her pussy fluttering around them. “Getting off to your mommy’s cunt—gonna cum all over my hand, baby? Show me how much you want me?”
“Gonna cum so hard for you,” Jack panted, his cock throbbing in her grip, the pressure building as her fingers twisted around his head, slick and relentless. “Love your pussy, Mom—fuck, it’s so tight—wanna feel you cum with me.” He crooked his fingers, rubbing her G-spot, and she cried out, her body jerking against his.
“Oh, fuck—Jack, baby!” June’s orgasm hit, her pussy clamping down on his fingers, pulsing as her juices mixed with the water, her hand faltering but still stroking him. Her head fell against his shoulder, lips brushing his neck as she moaned, “Cum for me, sweetie—give Mommy all that hot cum.”
Her words tipped him over, and Jack groaned, deep and guttural, his cock pulsing in her fist as thick ropes of cum shot out, splattering her belly and thighs, the white streaks stark against her flushed skin before the water washed them away. “Fuck, Mom—love you,” he gasped, his fingers still inside her, feeling her aftershocks as his own release shuddered through him, his knees nearly buckling.
They clung to each other, panting, the shower’s spray rinsing away the evidence of their climax as their hands slowed, then stilled. June pulled back first, her grin lazy and satisfied, cupping his face to kiss him—soft, deep, her tongue teasing his with a lingering playfulness. “Good boy,” she murmured against his lips, her thumb brushing his jaw, and he chuckled, kissing her back, his hands sliding up her sides, tracing the wet curve of her ribs.
“Love you too,” she whispered, stepping back to grab the soap again, lathering her hands. “Now let’s actually clean up—you’re a mess, baby.” She washed him again, her touch gentler this time, suds trailing over his chest, down his abs, and around his softening cock, her fingers lingering just enough to make him twitch. He returned the favor, soaping her breasts, her stomach, her ass, his hands reverent as they glided over her, rinsing away the last of their grime and cum.
They stepped out, toweling off in the steamy bathroom, their skin pink from the heat. June wrapped her towel around her chest, but Jack stayed bare, his damp hair sticking up as he followed her to her bedroom, the hall cool against his flushed body. She dropped the towel by the door, sauntering to her bed—a wide, soft expanse with a navy comforter—and slid under the covers, her naked form disappearing into the sheets. She patted the space beside her, her eyes warm but commanding. “In, Jack.”
He didn’t hesitate, slipping in beside her, the sheets cool against his skin as he pressed close, their legs tangling, his arm draping over her waist. Her breasts brushed his chest, soft and warm, and he felt her breath on his shoulder as she nestled into him, her hand resting on his hip. “No clothes tonight,” she murmured, her voice sleepy but content, her fingers tracing lazy circles on his skin. “Just us. It's been too long since I woke up next to a man.”
Jack grinned, his cheek against her hair, the scent of her shampoo—floral and faint—mixing with the clean smell of their skin.
“I guess I can't convince you to slip into the garage and cuddle up on concrete,” he agreed with a chuckle, even if it would be nice to actually wrap himself up with his sparkmate and mother together, his voice low, pulling her tighter as his cock rested soft against her thigh, spent but still warm. He thought of his girls—June, her fierce love, and Arcee, her strength and playful trust—and a quiet awe settled over him. Fuck, I’m lucky, he thought, his mind drifting as his eyes closed, the weight of them both grounding him along with that of his distant child, knitting together this very instant in the gestational pod at the Authobot's base. “So damn lucky.”
June’s lips brushed his collarbone, a final kiss before her breathing evened out, and he followed her into sleep, their naked bodies entwined.
Chapter 2
Summary:
June and Jack awaken to a conversation, and Arcee offers her own reflections on "mommy" and son.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Jack drifted in the hazy warmth of sleep, the edges of his mind softening into a dream that felt too good to question. A human-sized Arcee knelt beside him, her sleek, metallic curves softened into smooth flesh, her blue eyes glinting with mischief as she leaned over his lap. June was there too, her familiar warmth pressed against his side, her dark hair spilling over his thigh. Their lips met above his cock, kissing slowly, tongues tangling in a lazy, sensual dance, before they turned their attention to him. Arcee’s mouth closed over his tip, her tongue swirling with a precision that sent sparks up his spine, while June’s lips brushed his shaft, suckling gently, her breath hot against his skin. The dual sensation was electric, their mouths working in tandem, pulling soft moans from his throat as he sank deeper into the dream, his cock throbbing under their tender assault.
A wet, soft nudge against his balls tugged him from the haze, the dream fraying at the edges as reality seeped in. His eyes fluttered open, bleary and heavy, the morning light filtering through the curtains in a soft, golden glow. The sheets were tented over his lap, a faint rustle beneath them, and he felt it again—something warm and slick sliding over his balls, a gentle pressure that made his breath hitch. He lifted his head, blinking down, and saw the outline of June’s form under the covers, her head bent over his thighs. Her hair tickled his skin as she nuzzled closer, her nose brushing his sack, her tongue darting out to lave over the sensitive skin with slow, deliberate strokes.
“Fuck,” he mumbled, voice thick with sleep, his cock stiffening fast under her touch. She didn’t say a word, just kept going, her lips pressing soft kisses to his balls before her tongue traced up the underside of his shaft, coaxing him to full hardness. The sheets shifted as she moved, her breath warm and steady, and he felt her mouth close around his tip, sucking gently, her tongue flicking over the slit where precum was already beading.
Jack let his head fall back against the pillow, a low groan rumbling in his chest as he surrendered to it. His hands stayed limp at his sides, fingers curling into the sheets, too drowsy to do more than feel. June’s mouth was a quiet storm—wet, hot, and relentless—her lips sliding down his length, taking him deeper with each slow bob of her head. Her tongue pressed flat against him, curling around the head when she pulled back, then diving down again, her throat tightening briefly as she swallowed him to the base. The soft, wet sounds of her sucking filled the room, mingling with his ragged breaths, and he felt his balls tighten under her gentle nuzzling, her nose brushing them as she worked.
She didn’t speak, didn’t pause—just kept that steady rhythm, her hands resting lightly on his thighs, fingers digging in just enough to anchor him. His hips twitched, instinct pushing him deeper into her mouth, and she hummed faintly, the vibration shooting through him like a current. “Mom,” he rasped, barely audible, his voice cracking as the pressure built, his cock pulsing against her tongue. She didn’t falter, just sucked harder, her lips sealing tight around him, coaxing him toward the edge with a quiet, loving insistence.
It hit him fast—his orgasm crashing through him, a sharp, shuddering release as he came in her mouth, thick spurts coating her tongue.
“Oh—fuck,” he gasped, his body jerking once, then twice, as she swallowed around him, her throat working to take every drop. She stayed there, lips soft and still, milking him through the aftershocks until he went limp, his chest heaving as the last of it ebbed away.
June pulled back slowly, the sheets rustling as she emerged, her face flushed and glowing with a pleased, almost smug satisfaction. Her lips were shiny, a faint smear of his cum at the corner, and she wiped it with her thumb, licking it clean with a flicker of her tongue. She settled beside him, propping herself on an elbow, her breasts brushing his arm as she grinned down at him, her hair a tousled mess framing her face.
“Mornin’, sleepyhead,” she said, her voice low and warm, a teasing lilt curling the edges.
Jack blinked up at her, dopily, his brain still half-melted, a lazy grin spreading across his face.
“Good morning,” he mumbled, his voice rough and slurred, reaching up to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. “God, you’re—amazing.”
She chuckled, leaning down to kiss his forehead, her lips soft and lingering.
“Thought you’d like a little wake-up call,” she murmured, her hand resting on his chest, fingers tracing idle patterns over his skin. “Couldn’t let my boy sleep in too long. Plus, I missed giving blowjobs. With the right guy to leave squirming, they're really a lot of fun for a woman, too.”
"I'll take your word for it." He laughed softly, pulling her closer, her warmth settling against him as the morning light bathed them both. “Best alarm clock ever,” he said, his eyes drifting shut again, savoring the quiet buzz of her presence, her pleased hum echoing in his ears.
Jack shifted closer to June under the sheets, the morning light casting soft shadows across her face as she grinned down at him, still basking in her smug satisfaction. His chest felt warm, a lazy gratitude bubbling up, and he reached for her, cupping her cheek with a hand still heavy from sleep. “Thanks, Mom,” he murmured, his voice rough and warm, before leaning in to kiss her. His lips pressed to hers slow and deep, his tongue slipping past to dance with hers, tasting the faint salt of his own cum lingering in her mouth—a flavor that didn’t faze him, just mingled with her warmth.
June stiffened for a split second, her breath catching against his lips, a flicker of surprise widening her eyes before she melted into it, kissing him back with a soft hum. When he finally pulled away, his thumb brushing her jaw, he tilted his head, brows knitting at her reaction. “What’s up?” he asked, his voice low, searching her face.
“You okay?”
She blinked, a flush creeping up her cheeks as she licked her lips, hesitating.
“I—yeah, I’m fine,” she said, her tone softening, a small, almost shy smile tugging at her mouth.
“Just… didn’t expect that. Never been with a guy who’d kiss me like that after, y’know…” She gestured vaguely toward his lap, her eyes darting away, then back. “Most of them acted like it was poison—disgusted, or only reciprocated because I pushed. Never just… wanted to.”
Jack’s brows shot up, bafflement creasing his forehead as he propped himself on an elbow, the sheets slipping down to his waist. “Seriously? That’s ridiculous,” he said, shaking his head, his tone earnest but edged with disbelief. “Chauvinistic bull—kissing you - heck, eating a girl out’s great. I’d love to do that to you, Mom. Taste you all over.” His grin turned lopsided, a spark of heat in his dark eyes as he leaned closer, brushing his nose against hers.
June’s laugh was bright and startled, her flush deepening as she swatted his chest playfully, her fingers lingering against his skin. “Well, your mother must have done a great job raising you to be so respectful and considerate,” she said, her voice warm with affection, though a teasing note crept in. “Maybe later, you little fiend. Let’s get cleaned up first.” She slid out of bed, her naked form catching the light—curves soft and strong, her ass swaying as she padded toward the bathroom as if she was tempting him to hit the floor on his knees to worship it.
Okay, so... ass man. Good to know.
Jack chuckled, rolling out after her, the cool floor jolting his bare feet as he followed, his own nudity unselfconscious. In the bathroom, she handed him a toothbrush, their fingers brushing as she smirked at him in the mirror.
“Don’t get any ideas,” she teased, squeezing toothpaste onto her own brush, her hip bumping his as they stood side by side at the sink.
“Too late,” he shot back, winking at her reflection, his toothbrush already in his mouth as he leaned over to nudge her shoulder with his. The minty foam bubbled as he brushed, and he reached out, his free hand sliding along her waist, fingers tracing the dip above her hip. She giggled through her own brushing, elbowing him lightly, her body swaying into his touch.
They rinsed and spat, their laughter mingling as water splashed the counter, and June flicked a droplet at his cheek, her eyes dancing.
“Behave, you,” she said, but her hand found his, lacing their fingers for a moment before she tugged him toward the kitchen. “Breakfast time—move it, mister.”
Downstairs, the morning unfolded in a playful, loving rhythm. June pulled on a loose tank top and panties from the laundry room, her bare legs flashing as she moved to the fridge, while Jack tugged on boxers, his lean frame relaxed as he grabbed a pan. She bumped him with her hip as she reached for eggs, her fingers brushing his arm.
“You’re on toast duty,” she said, cracking an egg into a bowl, her tone mock-stern as she pointed a spatula at him.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, saluting with a grin, leaning over to steal a kiss on her cheek, his hand grazing her lower back. She swatted him with the spatula—lightly, playfully—her laugh bright as she whisked the eggs, her tank top slipping off one shoulder. He slid bread into the toaster, then stepped behind her, his chest brushing her back as he reached for the butter, his fingers lingering on her hip.
“Hands to yourself, chef,” she teased, turning her head to nip at his jaw, her breath warm against his skin. But she leaned into him, her ass pressing against his groin just enough to make him groan softly, his hands settling on her waist as he kissed her neck, slow and sweet.
“Can't help it—you’re too cute,” he murmured, his voice muffled against her skin, and she chuckled, twisting in his arms to face him, her hands resting on his chest, fingers tracing the line of his collarbone.
“Flatterer,” she said, her eyes soft as she tipped her head up, brushing her lips against his in a quick, tender kiss. The toaster popped, and he jumped slightly, making her laugh again as she pushed him toward it.
“Focus, Jack—don’t burn the house down.”
They moved around each other, bumping hips, stealing caresses—his hand on her thigh as he passed her a plate, her fingers ruffling his hair as she set the eggs on the table.
The scent of buttered toast and scrambled eggs lingered as Jack and June sat at the small table, clearing their plates, eating interspersed with faint, teasing brushes of fingers or thighs whenever they moved. Jack’s boxers clung to his thighs, his bare chest catching the sun as he leaned back, sipping orange juice, while June’s loose tank top slipped off one shoulder, her panties peeking out as she crossed her legs. Their knees brushed under the table, a quiet intimacy in the casual closeness, their earlier flirting settling into a warm, companionable silence until June, pushing a bit of egg around her plate, her fork pausing, glanced at Jack.
“We need to talk about Miko,” she said, her voice steady but laced with a hint of concern. “What happened yesterday… it’s weighing on me, not that you've failed to distract me, mister.”
Jack set his glass down, his fingers lingering on the rim, his brow furrowing. “Yeah, me too,” he admitted, his tone soft but serious. “She - I don’t know. It felt like she was trying too hard. Like she’s desperate to prove something. I guess that makes sense, really, because she's always got something to prove”
June nodded, her lips pressing into a thin line as she leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “Exactly. That bravado of hers—it’s bluster. Not confidence. That’s a girl who wants to feel grown up so badly she’ll do anything to prove it. It’s the surest sign she’s still a kid.”
Jack ran a hand through his dark hair, his gaze dropping to the table, then back to her. “I felt bad for her, honestly. She looked hurt when you shut her down, even if she played it off. I just… I worry about what happens if she keeps pushing like that, with the Autobots, with us, or, worse yet, with someone else who won't care or won't see it. She’s reckless, and I don’t want her getting into something she’s not ready for.”
June’s expression softened, a proud smile tugging at her lips as she reached across the table, resting her hand over his. “You’re so perceptive, Jack,” she said, her voice warm, her thumb brushing his knuckles. “I’m proud of you—really. You see her for who she is, not just the act. That kind of emotional maturity… it’s rare. Especially for your age.”
He flushed slightly, his grin sheepish as he squeezed her hand. “Thanks, Mom. I just… I care about her, you know? She’s our friend, even if she’s a chaos gremlin. I think we should talk to her—try to guide her, maybe. Help her figure out what she’s actually ready for, so she doesn’t crash and burn.”
June nodded, her fingers tightening around his.
“I agree. We need to sit her down, have a real conversation. Not just about yesterday, but about what she wants, what’s safe. If she’s mature enough to handle it, maybe—down the line—she could… be part of something with us.” She hesitated, her cheeks pinking as she glanced away, then back, her voice dropping. “This is weird to say, but… I actually find her attractive. I’ve never looked at women that way before, but Miko—she’s got these kissable lips, and her breasts are so perky, nothing like mine.” She gestured vaguely at her chest, a self-conscious laugh escaping her. “I’m feeling my age these days, and she’s got this lean muscle, all that energy. It’s… disorienting.”
Jack’s eyes widened, a playful grin spreading across his face as he leaned closer, his voice teasing. “Oh, so one time with Arcee and you're catching a lesbian lean now?” He chuckled, his gaze flicking to her tank top, then back to her eyes. “I've got say, though—the idea of you and Miko making out? Pretty damn hot.”
June’s laugh was bright and startled, her hand swatting his arm as she leaned back, her tank top slipping further, one breast half-exposed, the curve catching the light. Her eyes turned sultry, a deliberate shift as she arched her back slightly, letting the fabric slip lower, her nipple peeking out. Jack’s breath caught, his cock stirring in his boxers, his mouth going dry as heat surged through him.
“Don’t get too excited, baby boy,” she purred, her voice low and teasing, leaning forward so her breasts swayed closer. “I’m not giving up on dick anytime soon—especially not with what you and I are going to be doing every day from now on. Mommy loves her precious boy most of all.”
Jack’s grin widened, his voice cheeky but warm as he leaned in, his knee nudging hers under the table. “So, what, more morning blowjobs then? ‘Cause I’m not complaining.”
June laughed, a rich, joyful sound, shaking her head as she reached for his hand again.
“You’re incorrigible,” she said, her tone mock-scolding, but her eyes sparkled with affection. She sobered slightly, her fingers lacing with his. “But seriously, Jack—I’m so grateful to Arcee for this. For showing me… us. I feel twenty years younger, like I’m rediscovering myself. And you—” She leaned across the table, kissing him tenderly, her lips soft and lingering against his. “I love you, my precious boy. My lover.”
He kissed her back, slow and deep, his hand cupping her cheek, his thumb brushing her skin.
“Love you too, Mom,” he murmured against her lips, his voice playful but threaded with respect. “And yeah, Arcee’s the best wingman ever. We’re lucky.” He pulled back, grinning, but his eyes held a quiet maturity, acknowledging the weight of their bond, the responsibility they carried for each other—and for Miko.
June smiled, her hand squeezing his one last time before she stood, clearing their plates with a playful sway of her hips.
“Come on, lover boy,” she teased, glancing over her shoulder. “Help me clean up. We’ve got a long day ahead, including school for you.”
Laughing lightly, Jack pushed back from the kitchen table, the scrape of his chair soft against the hardwood floor as he stood, his empty juice glass glinting in the morning light. June’s tender kiss still lingered on his lips, her words— my precious boy, my lover —echoing in his chest, warm and heavy. He ran a hand through his dark hair, mussed from sleep and their playful morning, and flashed her a grin.
“I'll go get ready,” he said, his voice light but threaded with a quiet reluctance to leave her side. “Arcee’s probably itching to roll.”
June leaned against the counter, her tank top still askew, one breast half-exposed, her bare legs catching the sun as she sipped her coffee.
“Don’t keep her waiting, then,” she teased, her blue eyes sparkling with affection. “But come here first.” She set her mug down and opened her arms, pulling him into a quick, warm hug, her cheek pressing against his chest. The scent of her—floral and flesh and a hint of butter from breakfast—wrapped around him, and he hugged her back, his hands resting gently on her waist.
“Love you, Mom,” he murmured, kissing the top of her head, his lips brushing her soft hair.
“Love you too, baby,” she replied, pulling back to cup his face, her thumbs grazing his jaw. “Have a good day—and be careful with Miko if you see her at school. We’ll figure it out together, okay?”
He nodded, his grin softening into something steadier.
“Deal.” With a final squeeze of her hand, he turned and headed upstairs, his footsteps light but his mind churning.
In his room, Jack tugged on jeans and a plain black tee, the fabric cool against his skin as he zipped up. He caught his reflection in the mirror—tousled hair, flushed cheeks, a faint hickey on his neck from June’s nipping—and paused, a wry smile tugging at his lips. How the hell did I get here? he thought, lacing his sneakers. The intimacy with his mother, once unthinkable, now felt as natural as breathing. Her touch, her taste, the way she teased him into hardness—it had woven itself into his days, no longer strange but… right. She wasn’t just his mom anymore; she was a woman, fierce and sensual, maybe even a cougar, her confidence and curves screaming MILF in a way that made his pulse quicken. He chuckled softly, shaking his head. Acclimatized? More like addicted.
He grabbed his backpack, slinging it over one shoulder, and jogged downstairs, pausing at the kitchen doorway. June was rinsing dishes, her hips swaying to some silent tune, and he felt a pang of warmth.
“Heading out,” he called, his voice carrying a playful lilt. “Don’t burn the house down without me.”
She glanced over her shoulder, smirking as she flicked water from her fingers. “No promises, troublemaker. Say hi to Arcee for me.”
“Will do,” he said, winking, then stepped into the garage, the door clicking shut behind him.
The garage was dim, the air cool and tinged with oil and metal. Arcee sat in her motorcycle form, her sleek, blue-and-silver frame gleaming under the overhead light, curves and angles both fierce and alluring. Jack paused, his backpack slipping to the floor as he took her in—her streamlined body, the way her handlebars arched like a beckoning gesture, the faint hum of her systems purring in the quiet. A flush crept up his neck as he realized, with a mental laugh, that he found her vaguely… sexy. Not just her humanoid form in his dreams, but this, her raw, mechanical beauty, all power and grace. Did she flip some weird switch in me? he wondered, amusement bubbling up. First June’s newfound bisexuality, now him getting hot for a bike? Arcee was rewriting their brain in ways he couldn’t quite grasp, and he loved it.
He stepped closer, running a hand over her fuel tank, his fingers tracing the smooth, warm metal, a tender caress. “Morning, CeeCee,” he said, his voice soft, laced with affection as he crouched to meet her headlight, its faint glow like an eye watching him.
Her engine revved lightly, a playful rumble, and her com buzzed to life, her voice warm and teasing.
“Morning, stud. Took you long enough—thought you and June were gonna keep me waiting all day. What’s the holdup? Too busy flirting over eggs?”
Jack laughed, his hand lingering on her frame, his thumb brushing a curve near her seat. “Guilty as charged,” he said, grinning as he stood, adjusting his backpack. “Mom’s got me wrapped around her finger. But don’t worry—you’re still my number one ride.”
Arcee’s headlight flickered, her tone mock-offended but dripping with fondness. “Better be, Jack. I’m not just any ride—I’m the best damn one you’ll ever have. June’s amazing, but she's got nothing on my horsepower.”
He chuckled, leaning against her, his shoulder brushing her handlebar as he looked down, his grin softening.
“Don’t sell her short—she’s got some serious moves. But yeah, you’re my girl, CeeCee. Always will be.” His voice dipped, tender and sincere, his fingers giving her a gentle pat.
Her engine purred, a low, contented sound, and she tilted slightly, as if nuzzling him back. “Sweet talker,” she said, her voice warm, a hint of a smirk in it. “Keep that up, and I might let you polish me later. Now, you gonna stand there mooning over me, or we heading to school?”
Jack laughed, his heart light as he swung a leg over her seat, not quite ready to leave but savoring the banter, the easy love between them. “Give me a sec—I’m still enjoying the view,” he teased, settling against her, his hands on her handlebars, feeling her pulse beneath him.
Jack’s grin lingered as he settled onto Arcee’s seat, his hands curling around her handlebars, the warm metal vibrating faintly under his palms. Her sleek, blue-and-silver form gleamed in the garage’s dim light, her curves both fierce and alluring, and he felt that familiar tug of affection—tinged, now, with a wry amusement at his own attraction to her motorcycle form. The morning air was cool, scented with oil and the faint tang of yesterday’s dust, and he leaned forward, his chest brushing her fuel tank, savoring the quiet moment with her.
Arcee’s engine revved softly, a teasing hum, and her com crackled to life, her voice dripping with sardonic amusement. “Enjoying the view, huh? Gotta say, Jack, you seemed pretty damn happy with 'the view' from the shower last night—your mom’s got some serious assets.” She paused, her tone turning sly, intimate. “What was it, you two stroking each other off? Sounded like quite the party.”
Jack’s face flushed, his grip tightening on her handlebars as a startled laugh escaped him. “Jesus, CeeCee,” he said, his voice a mix of embarrassment and amusement, his cheeks burning. “You heard that?” He shifted on her seat, his jeans suddenly snug as the memory of June’s slick hand on his cock, her teasing whispers, flooded back.
“Heard it, felt it through the walls,” Arcee purred, her headlight flickering like a wink. “You think I power down and miss the show? Come on, Jack—I’m not that out of the loop.” Her voice turned flirty, a playful edge sharpening it. “So, how’s it feel, having a girl your size to play with? June’s all soft and curvy, easy to handle. Bet it’s nice, no size difference to worry about. Me, I’m a bit… cumbersome, aren’t I?”
Jack’s laughter faded, his brow furrowing as he caught the hint of something beneath her teasing—a flicker of self-awareness, maybe, or vulnerability. He leaned forward, his hands sliding along her frame, fingers tracing the smooth curves of her chasis with a tenderness that belied his earlier flush.
“Hey,” he said, his voice softening, tentative but earnest. “You’re not cumbersome. You’re perfect. But… I mean, does it ever bother you? The size thing? I know it makes stuff like that—intimacy, I mean—trickier. I don’t want you feeling… left out, or like you can’t have that with me.”
Arcee’s engine stilled for a moment, the garage quiet except for the faint hum of her systems. Then she laughed—a bright, throaty sound that vibrated through her frame, shaking Jack gently on her seat.
“Oh, Jack, you're sweet, but don't be silly,” she said, her voice warm, confident, and laced with affection. “Left out? Not a chance. I love that my two favorite humans are having the time of their lives. You and June getting all hot and heavy? That’s my kind of show.” Her tone turned smug, deliciously erotic. “You think I was just sitting here last night, twiddling my servos? I was getting off right along with you—fingers deep in my pussy, clit glowing like a damn star, listening to every moan, every wet little sound you two made. Came so hard I nearly shorted a circuit.”
Jack’s mouth went dry, his cock stirring in his jeans at the vivid image—Arcee, her massive form shuddering in the garage, her pussy slick with her own lubricant as she pleasured herself to the sound and thought of him and his mom. “Fuck, CeeCee,” he breathed, half-laughing, half-groaning, his hands gripping her handlebars tighter as heat surged through him. “You’re gonna kill me with that mental picture.”
“Good,” she shot back, her voice a playful purr, her engine revving just enough to jostle him, a flirty nudge. “Keep that in your head all day at school, lover boy. Maybe I’ll give you a private show later—let you watch me work myself over. Fair trade for all the fun you’re having with June.”
He chuckled, leaning down to press his forehead against her fuel tank, his breath warm against her metal. “You’re unbelievable,” he said, his voice thick with affection, his fingers tracing a slow, tender arc along her frame. “I love you, you know that? Size or no size, you’re my girl.”
Arcee’s headlight glowed brighter, her com softening to a warm hum. “Love you too, Jack,” she murmured, the flirtatious edge giving way to sincerity. “Always will. Now, you gonna keep sweet-talking me, or are we actually heading to school? I’m not your personal lounge chair.”
He laughed, sitting up, his grin wide and easy as he patted her tank, his touch lingering with a playful caress.
“Give me a minute—I’m still recovering from you being a perv in the garage,” he teased, his eyes sparkling.
“Perv, huh?” she retorted, her engine giving a mock-indignant rev. “Says the guy who made out with 'mommy' this morning. Admit it, Jack—you love that I'm a 'perv' by your silly human standards.”
"Guilty," he said with a laugh, leaning back, his hands still firm on the grips of her handlebars.
Jack’s laughter lingered, the warmth of her sleek frame grounding him in the dim garage.
Her engine purred softly, a playful invitation, and her com buzzed with a final tease. “Alright, lover boy, you’re driving,” she said, her voice rich with affection. “Show me what you’ve got—just don’t get us stuck in a ditch daydreaming about June’s curves.”
He grinned, swinging his leg over her seat, his backpack snug against his shoulders as he settled in, thighs hugging her sides. “No promises,” he shot back, his tone light but his heart steady, and with a gentle twist of the throttle, Arcee rolled forward, the garage door rumbling open to reveal the morning sun, golden and crisp. Her headlight flickered in acknowledgment, ceding control as he guided her out, the pavement smooth beneath her tires.
The cool air whipped past, tugging at Jack’s hair and jacket as they cruised down the quiet street, Arcee’s engine a low, comforting hum beneath him. His hands were firm on her, his touch confident but tender, and he felt the strength of their bond in every subtle shift of her frame, responding to his lead. His mind drifted to Miko—her bravado that had imperiled them both time and again, physically and, now, emotionally, her hidden vulnerability and need to prove herself, the conversation he and June would need to have with her. It loomed heavy, a challenge that required clarity and care, but as Arcee’s warmth seeped into him, he recognized the truth: he could face it because of his girls. June’s fierce love, her steady guidance, and Arcee’s playful strength—they were a firm foundation on which to build a life - after all, he already was.
He leaned into a turn, Arcee moving fluidly with him, and a quiet resolve settled in his chest. “Got your back, CeeCee,” he murmured, maybe, he thought, too softly for her com to catch, but her engine revved lightly as they weaved around corners together.
No matter what happened with his mom or Miko, that would always be true.
Notes:
Trying hard not to go full-throttle into Jack/June, because I do love Jack/Arcee, but dang if mother and son aren't hot together.
Thank you, everyone, for all the lovely comments. I hope that I can continue to entertain with this continuation.
Chapter 3
Summary:
Jack attends classes for the day, the normalcy of which is actually surreal considering he's having a human-autobot child and regularly plans to have threesomes with his mom.
Miko adds to the strangeness.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Luxuriating in the casual intimacy of, well, riding his girlfriend in public, Jack let Arcee, now sporting her Sadie hologram in the driver's position, maneuver them into the school parking lot. Her engine’s purr softened to a quiet hum, faintly electric in its whine despite her appearance as a gas-powered vehicle, as they idled next to the entryway. Careful not to disrupt "Sadie," he gave her chassis an affectionate stroke in parting. Not like he could give her a goodbye kiss or anything. Not without drawing some substantial and sustain stares from the throng of students meandering their way into the school building beyond the parking lot. People didn't get the sexiness of motorcycles.
He dismounted, slinging his backpack over one shoulder. He gave her handlebar a quick, affectionate pat, murmuring, “Catch you later, CeeCee,” before she revved lightly and rolled off, probably to wait at the KO Burger or something like that. They hadn't actually discussed her plans for the day.
The school loomed ahead, a squat brick building buzzing with the usual chaos of teenagers once he made it inside —sneakers squeaking on pavement, laughter echoing, and the occasional slam of a locker. Jack squared his shoulders, struck for a moment at just how strange and familiar the cacophony really was given that, not a few years ago, he'd have been no different than all these kids horsing around before class. Now, he was an expectant father with, for all intents and purposes, wife, a lover, and a war to fight, the future of everything utterly uncertain in ways that a teenager shouldn't really understand. Although, given the history of humanity, rife with plagues, wars, and all manner of strife, maybe it was the kids roughhousing, their infancy extended for decades, that were the aberration, and not him.
There really was not time for that sort of thinking when the demands of the moment weighed on him. Getting lost in the clouds didn't help anyone; he pushed it aside, determined to focus.
First period was math, and Jack slid into his desk near the window, the classroom’s fluorescent lights casting a sterile glow over the whiteboard. Mr. Hargrove droned on about quadratic equations, his marker squeaking as he sketched parabolas, and Jack forced himself to take notes, his pencil scratching steadily. The numbers and graphs still felt trivial, almost absurd, though, compared to the stakes he faced outside these walls—fatherhood to a protoform, the fate of Earth tangled in a millennia-long war between Cybertronians. Solving for x paled next to dodging Decepticon blasters or navigating the emotional minefield of his bond with June and Arcee. Still, he worked through the problems, his focus a tether to something normal that he could pretend was still his reality.
Though he'd not trade a moment of Arcee, or anything that she'd gifted to him, for a lifetime of normal.
English literature followed, and Jack sank into his seat in Ms. Rivera’s room. They were dissecting The Great Gatsby, which Jack had already read twice because it seemed like high school English teachers had just given up at some point and continually assigned the same texts year after year. Ms. Rivera’s voice rose and fell, animated, as she probed the class about Gatsby’s obsession and the hollow promise of the American Dream. Jack jotted notes, his pen pausing as Daisy’s shallow allure sparked a faint parallel to Miko’s bravado—both chasing something they didn’t fully understand.
Wow. Something meaningful from literature class, connecting to his lived-experience.
Either Rivera was a better teacher than he imagined, or his mom had been right and he was sort of insightful.
He shook it off. Earthly dreams may or may not have been lies, woven together to exploit people, but his reached out to the stars.
Ugh. That sounded like he was about to start mentally waxing poetic over Arcee as a constellation or some hackneyed metaphor.
History was third period, and Jack perked up as Mr. Callahan launched into a lecture on colonialism, his chalk clicking against the board as he mapped European empires. The discussion of exploitation and resistance hit closer to home, the parallels to Decepticon... specism, for lack of a better term—their disdain for humans as “lesser” beings—strikingly vivid. Jack leaned forward, his notebook filling with quick scrawls. The Autobots’ fight for freedom mirrored the human struggles Mr. Callahan described, and Jack felt a surge of clarity, the lesson grounding his role in a war that spanned galaxies.
By lunch, Jack’s focus held, though the day’s minutiae—equations, literary motifs, historical dates— still felt like a pale backdrop to the reality of his life. He grabbed his backpack, the bell’s shrill ring cutting through his thoughts, and headed for the cafeteria, the chatter of classmates washing over him as he made his way towards the lunchroom.
After a quick trip through the hallways, swelling with students, Jack entered the cafeteria. The smell of overcooked pizza and fries hung heavy, and he scanned the room for a quiet corner, his mind still turning over Miko’s bravado and the conversation he and June had planned. Before he could spot an empty table, a hand grabbed his wrist, yanking him sideways with surprising force.
“Whoa—!” he yelped, stumbling as Miko’s familiar pink-streaked hair flashed in his peripheral vision.
“Come on, Darby, move it!” she hissed, her voice a mix of mischief and urgency, dragging him toward a hallway off the cafeteria. His sneakers skidded on the linoleum, and he tugged back, his protests half-hearted but firm.
“Miko, what the hell?” he said, his voice low, glancing over his shoulder to see if anyone noticed. “I’m just trying to eat lunch here.”
She ignored him, her grip iron-tight as, with shocking strength for someone so small, she shoved open a supply closet door, the hinges creaking faintly. The cramped space smelled of bleach and dusty mop heads, shelves lined with cleaning bottles and stacks of paper towels casting shadows in the flicker of a single overhead bulb. Miko pulled him inside, kicking the door shut behind them, and spun to face him, her dark eyes glinting with a reckless spark. Her punk-rock tee was slightly askew, her denim shorts riding low, and she stood close—too close—her breath warm against his cheek in the tight quarters.
“Relax, Jack,” she said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial purr, her hands planting on his chest, fingers curling into his shirt. “No ball and bike-chain, no parental unit stick-in-the-mud to cockblock us. Just you and me, seven minutes in heaven, school-grounds style.” She leaned in, her lips hovering near his, her body pressing closer, the heat of her thighs brushing his jeans. “Come on, let’s have a quickie—make up for lost time.”
Jack’s heart throbbed at the invitation, but he caught her wrists, gently but firmly, stepping back. “Miko, hold up,” he said, his voice steady despite the flush creeping up his neck. “We talked about this yesterday. We need to actually talk —not just… jump into something. I thought you agreed.”
Miko’s smirk faltered, a flicker of frustration crossing her face as she pulled her wrists free, crossing her arms under her chest, pushing her perky breasts up slightly.
“Ugh, Jack, don’t be such a buzzkill,” she said, her tone teasing but edged with impatience. “Look, we’ve missed out on so much, you and me. All the normal teen stuff—sneaking out, necking in dark corners. We’ve been too busy saving the planet with the bots, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything, but…” She stepped closer again, her voice softening, a hint of vulnerability breaking through her bravado. “Don’t you want to feel like a teenager for once? Just have some fun, no strings? I know you’re into it—I saw you with June and Arcee. You’re not some saint.”
Jack swallowed, his hands dropping to his sides, the cramped closet feeling smaller as her words hit home. The memory of June’s lips, Arcee’s purr, flashed through him, but he shook his head, his jaw tightening. “It’s not about being a saint, Miko,” he said, his voice low, earnest. “What happened with them—it’s complicated, and it took a lot of trust. I care about you, but we can’t just… do this in a closet like it’s nothing..”
Miko huffed, leaning back, her arms still crossed, her lips pursing as she studied him, the bulb above casting sharp angles across her face. “You’re such a dad sometimes,” she muttered, but her eyes softened, a mix of defiance and curiosity flickering there, waiting for his response. "And not in a fun way."
Miko’s lips curled into a taunting smirk, her dark eyes glinting with a mix of challenge and heat as she stepped closer, closing the already meager gap in the supply closet. The air was thick with the sharp tang of bleach and the faint warmth of her breath, her pink-streaked hair brushing her shoulders as she tilted her head, sizing him up.
“Come on, Daddy,” she purred, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper, dripping with provocation. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna pass this up. Don’t you wanna fuck the hot Japanese schoolgirl? Isn’t that, like, every guy’s dream?”
Before he could respond, she moved, swift and deliberate, her arms sliding around his neck, fingers lacing behind his head as she pressed her body against his. Her compact frame was all lean muscle and restless energy, her perky breasts flattening against his chest through her thin punk-rock tee, nipples faintly discernible as they grazed him. Her hips slotted against his, the bare skin of her thighs brushing his jeans, warm and smooth. She rocked forward slightly, her pelvis nudging his groin, and Jack’s breath hitched, his cock stirring involuntarily at the pressure, the heat of her body igniting a pulse of arousal despite his resolve.
“Miko, stop,” he said, his voice low but firm, hands rising to her shoulders, gently trying to ease her back. His fingers pressed against the taut muscle beneath her shirt, her skin warm under his palms, but she resisted, her grip tightening around his neck, her lips hovering inches from his, glossy and parted, teasing him with their closeness.
She ignored his protest, her smirk sharpening as she leaned in, her cheek brushing his, her breath hot against his ear.
“What’s the deal, Jack?” she taunted, her voice a mocking lilt as she ground her hips against him again, slow and deliberate, her thighs flexing against his. “You’ll fuck your own mom—and, okay, she’s hot as fuck —and a goddamn motorcycle, but not me? I’m right here, dude.” Her hands slid down, nails grazing the back of his neck, sending a shiver through him as she pressed her chest harder against his, her body a insistent, writhing temptation. “How ‘bout just a blowjob, then? I can make it quick—bet I’m better than June at sucking you off.”
Jack’s pulse raced, his cock hardening fully in his jeans, straining against the zipper as her hips rolled, the friction of her body against his groin sending sparks up his spine. Her scent—bubblegum and faint sweat—filled his nose, and her lips brushed his jaw, a featherlight tease that made his hands tighten on her shoulders, his fingers digging into her firm flesh.
But t he way her eyes flickered...
The slight tremble in her fingers as they clung to him...
I'm better than June.
I'm good enough...
“Miko, enough,” he said, his voice sharper now, though still gentle, his hands sliding to her arms, firmly but carefully prying them from his neck. He stepped back, his shoulders bumping a shelf, a bottle rattling behind him, and held her at arm’s length, his thumbs resting on her biceps, feeling the tension in her lean muscles. “This is not a competition, and it it isn’t about me not wanting you. You’re… hell, you’re gorgeous, okay? But I’m not doing this—not like this, not because you’re trying to prove something. I meant it yesterday. We need to talk, really talk, about what you want. I don’t want you feeling like you have to throw yourself at me to be seen.”
Miko’s smirk faltered, the bulb above casting harsh shadows across her face, highlighting the flush on her cheeks and the defiant set of her jaw. Her chest heaved slightly, her breasts rising and falling under her tight tee, and she crossed her arms, pushing them up, her posture still provocative, like she was still desperately trying to show off, highlight what he was "missing."
“Whatever, Jack,” she snarked, her voice biting but quieter, a crack in her armor showing. Her eyes darted away, lips pursing, and Jack felt a pang; this wasn't about sex - not really, or at least only about sex insofar as it was a proxy for something else. A deeper kind of need.
Jack held Miko’s arms gently, his thumbs pressing into the tense muscle of her biceps, the supply closet’s dim light casting sharp angles across her flushed face. Her snark hung heavy in the air, her body still close enough that he could feel the heat radiating from her, her perky breasts rising with each quick breath under her tight tee. His cock still throbbed in his jeans from her earlier grinding, but his resolve was ironclad, his voice steady as he met her defiant gaze.
“Miko, listen,” he said, his tone blunt but earnest, cutting through her bravado. “If you weren’t good enough for me to care about—as a friend, as a person —I’d fuck you right here, right now, no questions. And that’d probably fuck you up, too. I’m being crass because I need you to hear me: I’m not doing this to hurt you. I care too much.”
Miko’s eyes narrowed, her lips twisting into a scoff as she jerked her arms free.
“Wow, Jack, way to patronize me,” she snapped, her voice sharp, though a flicker of uncertainty betrayed her. “Can’t we just stop thinking and do something? Stop worrying and live a little?” Her fingers gripped her biceps, nails digging in, and her jaw clenched.
Jack exhaled, his hands dropping to his sides.
“I want to do a lot of living, Miko,” he said, his voice calm but firm, a quiet conviction in his eyes. His mind flashed to that morning—June’s lips around his cock, the spontaneous heat of her mouth pulling him awake—and he pushed the memory aside, focusing. “But living well means thinking things through. There’s a time for spontaneity, and there’s a time for patience, for figuring shit out. This? This needs the second one.”
Miko’s lips pursed, her expression turning petulant, her foot scuffing the linoleum floor as she shifted her weight. “Ugh, you sound like a freaking guidance counselor,” she muttered, her voice aggrieved, her eyes darting away, then back, glinting with frustration.
“Why’s it gotta be so complicated? I’m throwing myself at you, and you’re just… ugh!” She tossed her head, pink-streaked hair flipping, her body tense with the weight of feeling dismissed.
Jack watched her, his chest tightening as he saw the deeper hurt beneath her act—the need to be wanted, to matter. He softened his tone, stepping closer, though not enough to crowd her.
“Miko, if this was just about sex, you’d have gone after someone else. There are plenty of guys out there—guys who wouldn’t care enough, who’d just fuck you and walk away. You’re not chasing them. You’re here, with me, for a reason.”
She cut in, her smirk returning, sharp and defensive. “Yeah, ‘cause of your monster-cock, duh,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, though her eyes flickered with something less certain, her bravado faltering under his steady gaze.
Jack just laughed, a low, genuine sound that broke the tension, shaking his head.
“Nice try, but no,” he said, his grin easy but his words deliberate. “It’s because you want to be with someone you can trust. If I was the kind of guy who’d just flip you around and fuck you into the wall, I wouldn’t be the person you’d want. You wouldn’t trust me. You’re pushing because you know I wouldn't just do that to you - because you know I care enough to stop and think about what this means for you.”
Miko’s smirk vanished, her eyes widening as his words landed, her arms dropping slightly, fingers loosening their grip. She blinked, her mouth opening, then closing, as if grappling with the weight of his insight.
“So… what, I’m only asking because I know you’ll say no?” she said, her voice quieter, a mix of disbelief and reluctant realization as she took a minute to mull over the proposition. “Wow. That’s… actually kinda fucked up, Jack. I mean, you're kind of fucked up if you can think that.”
Miko let out a dramatic sigh, her shoulders slumping as she uncrossed her arms, her petulant edge softening into a reluctant acquiescence. The supply closet’s dim bulb flickered above, casting a warm glow across her flushed cheeks, her pink-streaked hair falling messily over one shoulder. She leaned back against the shelf, exposing a sliver of toned midriff, and fixed Jack with a look that was, as was suitable for Miko, chaos incarnate, somehow equal parts surrender and defiance.
“Fine, Jack,” she said, her voice dropping to a sultry purr, her lips curling into a teasing smirk. “You win, Mr. Responsible. We'll do the boring 'thinking' and 'talking' stuff, or whatever. But just so you know…” She paused, her eyes glinting with impetuous mischief as she stepped closer, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. “I do really want a cunt-full of that monster-cock of yours.”
“Oh, you’re back to that now?” he said, his tone light but steady, a grin tugging at his lips. He recognized her game—her flirty taunts were a way to save face, to puff herself up and get a reaction, and he’d give her just enough to keep her ego intact without crossing the line. “Thought you were gonna play nice for once, Miko.”
She laughed, a bright, throaty sound, and closed the gap between them again, her hips swaying with deliberate seduction. Her hands found his chest, fingers splaying over his black tee, nails grazing the fabric as she pressed closer, her perky breasts brushing his ribs, her thighs grazing his.
“Nice? Nah, that’s not my style,” she teased, her voice dripping with heat as she tilted her head, her lips hovering near his jaw, glossy and parted. “I’m practicing for you, y’know. Got myself some bigger toys—nice, thick ones—to make sure I’m ready for that beast you’re packing.” She rocked her hips forward, just enough to nudge his groin, her denim-clad pelvis warm against his jeans, and Jack’s pulse spiked, his cock stirring harder, though his hands stayed firmly at his sides.
“Jesus, Miko,” he said, half-laughing, half-groaning, his grin widening as he shook his head, holding his ground. “You don’t quit, do you? If you've got time for a whole training regimen, you could probably start actually studying.”
Her smirk turned wicked, her fingers trailing down his chest, pausing just above his belt, her touch light but deliberate, sending a shiver through him.
“I ace all my tests, but, you know, you could help with that - good study partner for biology,” she purred, her voice a seductive drawl as she leaned in, her breath hot against his ear, her hair tickling his neck. “They’re not, like, a foot thick like that ridiculous dick of yours, ‘cause, y’know, I wanna stay tight enough to enjoy it. Gotta keep it fun.” She pulled back slightly, her eyes locking onto his, dark and playful, her lips twitching as she watched for his reaction, her body still pressed close, her thighs flexing against his, the heat of her skin palpable through her shorts.
Jack chuckled, his resolve unshaken, though his jeans were uncomfortably tight now, his cock straining at the vivid image of her with her toys, her teasing words stoking the fire she was clearly trying to ignite. “
“Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out—don’t need me rushing in to mess up your… workout plan,” he said, his voice warm but firm, letting her have her moment without giving in
Miko’s laugh was sharp and delighted, but she wasn’t done yet. She stepped back, just enough to give him a full view of her, her hands sliding to her hips.
“Oh, I’m training hard, Jack,” she said, her tone flirty and impetuous, her eyes dancing with provocation. “But maybe I’ll get some help. You think Mommy might wanna lend a hand?” She tilted her head, her smirk turning sly as she ran a finger along her collarbone, drawing his gaze to the curve of her breasts under her tee. “June knows her baby’s cock so well—bet she could show me how to handle it. Pick out the perfect toy, make sure I’m ready for the real thing.”
Jack’s face flushed, a bark of laughter escaping him as he shook his head, recognizing her push to shock him, to inflate her confidence with his reaction. “You’re relentless,” he said, his grin wide and playful, granting her the response she craved without wavering. “Dragging June into your fantasies now? Careful, Miko— mom's got some tricks up her sleeves, you know.”
She giggled, her posture relaxing slightly, her seductive edge softening as she leaned against the shelf again, her arms crossing loosely, still pushing her breasts up, her body a study in deliberate allure. “Oh, I’d love to see her try,” she shot back, her voice teasing but lighter, the chastened undertone from earlier fading as she reclaimed her swagger. “Bet I could keep up with her and you. Just sayin’, Jack”
He smirked, his eyes meeting hers, warm but resolute. “Keep dreaming, Miko,” he said, his tone affectionate but final, letting her save face while holding the line. “We’re talking first— then we’ll see what’s what. Deal?”
Her lips pursed, a mock pout, but her eyes sparkled with grudging respect, her flirty bravado a shield she wielded with skill. “Fine, deal,” she said, tossing her hair, her smirk lingering as she eyed him, ready to keep pushing,.
Then, without warning, before Jack could even register the motion, she darted forward, lips meeting his cheek for just a moment, feathering soft in a way that was utterly incongruous with her prior brazenness and everything that he'd come to expect from Miko.
A faint tingling bloomed in the skin under her lips as they withdrew after nothing more than a quick and chaste peck as if she was a normal girl - not Miko - parting after a first date.
Her lips curled into a tiny smile, something authentic and almost shy, as she pulled back, rocking on her feet and giving him a nudge.
"You're a good dude, even if you're a stick in the mud just like your mom," she scoffed, pivoting on her heel and making her way to the door, having to shimmy by him in the cramped space so that her breasts again brushed by his chest.
"I try," he offered tentatively.
In the process of opening the door, Miko turned her head over her shoulder to glance at him and winked coquettishly. "Hot like your mom, too," she observed, giving him, and the awoken bulge in his pants, not nearly fully hard but slightly swollen, a hard stare. "Looking forward to being the filling to a Darby sandwich."
With that, setting her shoulders wide as if she was strutting like a peacock, she threw open the door and, not offering another word, simply sauntered off down the hallway, leaving Jack not quite with his dick out, just standing there, stupefied.
...
"Fuck," he sighed, and face-palmed, massaging his temples.
These women were going to kill him.
Notes:
I will admit that I'm eager to witness Jack and Miko together with June. Tiny girl ravaged by caring bi MILF and monster cock son - yes, please.
Miko, who feels as if she's been abandoned by both her biological parents and her host family, wouldn't be satisfied with rejection, "feeling" it, in my opinion, as disastrously invalidating. She really does have something to prove - that she's worthy, that she's brave, that she's an adult. Jack allowing and engaging in the teasing but not giving in physically lets them both straddle the line, I hope, in a way that won't "fuck her up" but also demonstrates his interest, framing what she would otherwise see as an expression of her not being "good enough" as something more about his own "hangups" than anything else.
Chapter 4
Summary:
June and Arcee converse... labially.
Notes:
This one is a lot more character and relationship building. I don't know if this is anything like what the original author would have intended, but here we go...
Because the chapter was growing too long, I split off the smut. Hopefully it's still worthy of your time.
Chapter Text
By the time that noon had rolled around on one of her rare off days, the very reason that she had been able to indulge both last night and this morning with her young lover - Oh, god, was she a cougar? That thought had stalled her out this morning for a few minutes of stupification - June had finished with the myriad chores that tended to pile up during a work week.
Jack was considerate and skilled enough to handle laundry and basic cleaning since he'd had to take on too many responsibilities at too young an age after he and June lost Daniel, but with his own child on the way and the responsibilities of waging an interplanetary war, well, June couldn't expect too much from him when it came to the little things like scrubbing the kitchen floor on her hands and knees - be still her baby's beating heart if he walked in on that - or cleaning toilets. Unglamorous, and something that required her to take another hot shower after she finished, just to cleanse the scuzzy sensation that had soaked into her entire body, though she'd washed her grimy hands thoroughly. After toweling dry, she'd slipped on some clean but slovenly clothes, nothing more than a loose tank top that clung to her fine curves, and some jeans, before making her way to the kitchen for some lunch.
As she hummed softly, scanning shelves and cabinets, the memory of Jack’s playful flirting and their tender conversation warmed her chest. The thrill of waking a young man with a blowjob, being naughty like she was a randy teen again, warmed other things. It was almost like having a real partner again, someone you could live life with in all the precious ways she had made herself forget.
Just as she was reaching for some steel cut oats, the house phone trilled, startling her. She frowned slightly as she picked it up. “Hello?”
“June, it’s me,” came Arcee’s voice, clear and warm through the receiver, her comm system patching seamlessly into the house line; June's expression brightened at the realization that, no, it wasn't a telemarketer. “You busy? Could you join me in the garage for a click?”
"I heard you pull in a few hours ago." June’s lips curved into a smile, curiosity piqued. “Arcee, you know you don’t have to use the phone—you’re literally in the garage,” she teased, already heading toward the garage door, her bare feet soft on the hardwood. “You could just give a honk.”
“I don't like to toot my own horn,” Arcee replied, a playful lilt in her tone. “But I was actually hoping to talk to you about something if you've got a little while.”
Cordless phone in hand, June was already on her way, and pushed open the garage door, the cool air and faint scent of oil greeting her as she stepped inside. Arcee stood in her bipedal form, her sleek blue-and-silver frame towering yet oddly graceful and sinuous. Her head tilted, a smirk playing on her faceplate as she leaned against the wall, one hand on her hip, posture relaxed but inviting.
“Hey,” Arcee said, her voice carrying that familiar warm edge, though something behind it prickled at a vaguely maternal instinct deep inside June's chest. “Fancy a ride? Just us. I could use some air, and I’m betting you could too.”
June laughed, crossing her arms and letting Arcee set the pace and context, precisely because of her suspicions.
“A ride, huh? You’re not planning to kidnap me, are you?” she teased, but her eyes sparkled with interest, the prospect of time with Arcee was deeply appealing, especially if her ... daughter-in-law-lover-giant-robot-son's-motorcycle needed to talk about something serious.
“Nah, no kidnapping,” Arcee said, optics glinting as she crouched slightly, bringing her face closer to June’s level. “Just a chat, maybe some scenery. I’m curious about you, June. Figured we could trade stories, get to know each other better. Plus, I packed a picnic—well, Raf picked up some stuff from a vending machine for me since I don’t exactly get human food. Sandwiches, lemonade, and… grapes because he mentioned eating something nutritious.”
Where Raphael found grapes - possibly discarded from his own lunch and if that was the case June would have to have a chat with the young man about 'eating healthy' - June wasn't entirely sure. Not from a vending machine, at least.
Still, June’s brows lifted, a warm sense of surprise settling in her chest at Arcee’s thoughtfulness. “You went to all this trouble? That’s honestly quite sweet. Now I’m intrigued,” she said, grinning as she grabbed sneakers from the corner, slipping them on, a giddy flutter rising in her stomach. Despite the circumstances, it felt something like a date—her first in years. “Alright, let’s do it. Where are we headed?”
“Little spot outside Jasper,” Arcee replied, transforming in a fluid whirl of metal into her motorcycle form, sleek curves gleaming under the garage light. “Hop on, and I’ll show you. Hold tight—it’s a fun ride.”
After grabbing her helmet, June climbed onto Arcee’s seat, thighs settling against the warm metal, hands finding the handlebars with easy familiarity. Arcee’s engine purred to life, a gentle vibration humming through June as they rolled out, the garage door rumbling open to reveal the open road. The desert air whipped past, warm but sharp, as Arcee picked up speed, weaving smoothly through Jasper’s quiet streets toward the open landscape beyond. June leaned into the ride, body syncing with Arcee’s movements, a quiet thrill in the freedom that Jack must have enjoyed daily.
They reached a secluded overlook a ways outside town, where the desert stretched wide, dotted with scrub and distant rock formations under a vast, cloudless blue sky. Arcee slowed, pulling off onto a flat expanse of earth, and transformed back, her massive form settling beside June as she dismounted. From a compartment in her chassis, Arcee produced a small plastic bag and a blanket, spreading the blanket out and setting the bag—comically tiny in her fingers—down with a playful flourish.
“Don't worry,” she said, probably noting June's slightly apprehensive expression at Arcee's transformation in public, or, at least, in the open. “I've got my scanners sweeping the area. Unless they're using some top of the line stealth tech, like MECH, or something like that, no one's around to see me.”
June laughed, settling onto the blanket, kicking off her sneakers as she crossed her legs, the warm earth radiating through the fabric.
“This is perfect, Arcee,” she said, opening the bag to find a plastic container with vending machine egg salad sandwiches —more charming than appetizing because she wasn't actually likely to eat them, even if egg salad was among the safest bets— a cluster of grapes, and a bottle of lukewarm lemonade. She cracked the plastic cap and sipped the tart, artificial lemon flavor, refreshing regardless, and looked up at Arcee, who sat cross-legged beside her, massive frame surprisingly graceful.
“So, what’s this chat about? You didn’t drag me out here just for my company.”
Arcee’s optics softened, hands resting on her knees as she leaned forward slightly, voice quieter, more earnest.
“I just might. You make good company from everything that I've seen,” she said, a hint of flirtation lingering, but her words carried weight. “But honestly, June, I want your insight. Jack—he’s incredible. Brave, kind, perceptive. I mean, it's obvious that I’ve never met anyone like him, human or Cybertronian. And you raised him. I want- well, I want to know how you did it.” She paused, faceplate shifting into an indiscernible expression even though the general mannerisms between humans and Cybertronians were eerily similar, a rare vulnerability showing. “I never had a mother, or any model for maternity. Everything up to now has been instinct, and whatever I’ve picked up from you and Jack. Now, with… him and me, parents already before I even knew what that meant… I’m trying to figure out how to be what you’ve been for him, for the family we’re building. Even if I didn’t expect it.”
June’s breath caught, hand pausing mid-sip, Arcee’s sincerity settling deep. She set the bottle down, her smile warm and open, touched by the fembot’s openness.
“Arcee, that’s… I’m honored you’d ask,” she said, voice soft, leaning forward to rest a hand on Arcee’s massive shin, just above her ankle, the metal strangely warm under her palm due to the Energon that was coursing through whatever passed for Autobot veins. “Really, I ask myself sometimes how I raised Jack. There was never really a conscious decision to approach it in a particular way; I think that no one's really ready to be a parent, has things figured out from the start. Jack’s who he is because of love, mostly—love and a lot of trial and error.”
Arcee’s optics brightened, a low hum vibrating through her as she nodded, settling in.
“It starts with being present,” she began, voice reflective, eyes on the horizon. “Even though I never felt like I was actually there enough. Jack was a curious kid, always asking questions, feeling things deeply. I learned to listen, really listen, even when I didn’t have answers or ... or the time. I made the time in some way, even after a massive shift. At least I like to think that I did. Hope, maybe. Let him know his feelings mattered, that he was enough just as he was.”
Arcee tilted her head, optics narrowing slightly, absorbing every word.
“Listening,” she murmured, as if testing the concept. “That’s… harder than it sounds, with humans. You’re all so… layered. Jack’s got this way of saying one thing but meaning three others. How do you know what he needs? What if our - our child is like that too?”
June chuckled, popping a grape into her mouth.
“Practice,” she said, grinning. “And trusting your gut. Jack’s honest, but he doesn’t always say what’s weighing on him. You watch his eyes, his hands—little tells. Like when he rubs his neck, he’s nervous but won’t admit it. You’ve probably noticed that. Spend enough time with anyone - Jack or your own son or daughter - and you'll learn enough to know. ”
Arcee’s smirk returned, a knowing glint in her optics.
“Oh, I’ve clocked that one,” she said, voice warm. “He might be obscure at times, but, weirdly, he's like a datapad you can just read at others. Like yesterday, after Miko’s stunt in the cavern. He was all flushed, hands everywhere, trying to play it cool while Miko was eyeing up his dick.” She paused, optics softening. “You handled that well, by the way. Setting boundaries, recognizing what was... wrong with everything going on. I’m… not great at that yet.”
"Well, I think that we can both understand where Miko was coming from. Jack's - what did she call it? - 'monster cock' is pretty easy on the eyes. Flickering away from sardonic and teasing, June’s smile turned tender, her hand brushing Arcee’s thigh, the silver and violet plating splayed out next to her on the earth, again. “You’re better than you think,” she said. “You didn’t push Miko away, and you didn’t shut her down either. Balance is what Jack needs from you, what the protoform will need. Setting boundaries, being firm, but also flexible. You’re already thinking like a parent, Arcee.”
Arcee’s hum deepened, a mix of gratitude and contemplation, her massive fingers twitching slightly as if itching to act. “I just... I'm not a parent. I - I take lives - not give them. Being a warrior is all that I've known practically since my own 'birth,'” she said, voice low. “But I look at you, June—how you’ve guided Jack, kept him grounded even with all this —and I want that. For him, for… whatever and- and whoever comes next.” She gestured vaguely, optics flickering toward the horizon.
June sipped her lemonade, the plastic bottle crinkling, and leaned back on her hands, the blanket soft beneath her.
“Arcee,” she began, voice firm. "You may not know what you've already done - what you already are because, usually, we're the worst at actually seeing ourselves, but I see it every time he looks at you. You’ve given him strength I couldn’t, taught him to face things bigger than himself - bigger than anything I ever could have imagined.” She paused, a playful glint in her eyes. “And the way you flirt with him keeps him on his toes.”
Arcee laughed, a bright, resonant sound that echoed off the rocks, her frame shaking slightly. “Guilty,” she said, optics twinkling. “Kid’s too easy to rile up. But it’s more than that. Like you said, we're all bad at knowing ourselves sometimes, but he… sees me, June. Not just the warrior that was almost all that even I thought that I was and could be, but me. You taught him that—seeing people, really seeing them.”
June’s chest tightened, pride and affection swelling as she met Arcee’s gaze, h er blue eyes meeting Arcee’s optics as she sensed the fembot’s hunger for more.
Arcee shifted, her massive fingers brushing the blanket’s edge, careful not to tear it, her voice low and deliberate.
“June, what’s it like? The subjective part, the feeling of raising a child. Autobots, we… emerge fully-formed, capable, ready to fight or work. Inexperienced, sure, but not helpless, not like human kids. I can’t wrap my processor around what it means to guide someone from nothing to… Jack.” Her optics flickered, a hint of frustration in her tone. “You’ve done it. What’s it feel like, day in, day out?”
June’s breath caught, the question stirring memories—Jack’s first wobbly steps, his tear-streaked face after a scraped knee, his quiet pride when he fixed his first bike. She fiddled with the plastic sandwich container and then popped a few tart grapes, just to take the time to mull over how best to condense a lifetime of experiences lives, and not considered. Folding her hands in her lap, June let her gaze drift to the horizon as she gathered her thoughts.
“It’s… overwhelming, sometimes,” she began, her voice soft, reflective. “And the most beautiful thing I’ve ever done. Parenting’s like holding your heart outside your body, watching it grow, stumble, run before you even realized it wasn't holding your hand anymore, all while knowing you can’t shield it from everything. For humans, kids start so small, so fragile. They need you for everything—food, safety, love. That dependency… it’s a weight, but it’s also a gift.”
Arcee tilted her head, scratching absently at a divot of metal near her throat, and in that instant, June wondered if Transformers could... itch. Weird thought. She'd have to ask one day.
“A gift?” she echoed, voice curious but tinged with skepticism. “Sounds like a lot of work for no guarantee. Autobots don’t have that—we’re built, we learn, we go. No one’s spoon-feeding us energon or wiping our chassis.”
“That’s the cultural difference, I think. Humans take years to mature—physically, emotionally. Jack was a baby, couldn’t even hold his head up. Every milestone—crawling, talking, tying his shoes—was a victory - a joy - but it came with fear, too. Would I teach him right? Keep him safe? Though, there are benefits, I guess." Her nose wrinkled, to which Arcee arched a brow. June shrugged. "No diapers,” she explained.
Arcee’s laugh rumbled, a deep, resonant sound that stirred the dust. “Diapers? Yeah, no. We’re online, we’re functional. Maybe a few bad welds to work out, but no one’s changing our filters.” Her optics softened, though, her tone growing serious. “But… that slow growth, it builds something, doesn’t it? Between you and Jack. I see it—the way he trusts you, the way you know him, the way you helped him form. I want that, for… the protoform, for Jack. But I don’t know if I can feel it the way you do.”
June leaned forward, her hand squeezing Arcee’s knee, the metal unyielding but warm from the sun.
“You already feel it,” she said, voice firm, eyes steady. “You’re out here, asking, caring enough to try. That’s the root of it. For me, parenting Jack was joy and terror, rolled together. The wonder in the little things—his laugh when I’d chase him around the yard, the way he’d curl up against me when he wanted a cuddle and fall asleep, even the ... pain when I realized - I mean really, truly realized - that he didn’t need me as much anymore. The terror’s… knowing he’d face pain I couldn’t stop. Bullies, heartbreak, this war with you all.” She paused, a wry smile tugging at her lips. “Guess that last one’s on you.”
Arcee’s optics flickered, a mock wince crossing her faceplate.
“Ouch, low blow,” she said, but her tone was warm, teasing. “Fair, though. I dragged him into this mess.” She sobered, leaning closer, her massive frame looming but gentle. “Those moments—the laughs, the trust—how do you hold onto them? When it’s hard, when you’re scared, what keeps you going?”
June exhaled, her fingers tracing the blanket’s weave, memories surfacing—sleepless nights when Jack was sick, arguments when he hit his teens, the quiet relief of his hugs.
“Love keeps you going,” she said simply. “It’s not just a feeling; it’s a choice. You choose to show up, even when you’re exhausted, even when you’re wrong. Humans need that consistency—kids especially. Jack knew I’d be there, no matter what.” She paused, considering the cultural gap. “Autobots might not need nurturing the same way, but you’re not just an Autobot anymore. You’re part of a human family, too. We don't know if the protoform’s going to pop out ready to fight or - or what it will need. It’s the first of its kind - a hybrid, part human. But whatever he or she is, they'll need you to choose them, every day, like I chose Jack.”
Arcee’s hum was soft, contemplative, her optics fixed on June, absorbing every word. “Choosing it,” she murmured, as if testing the weight. “That’s… not so different from what I do for Jack. Fighting for him, staying by his side, even when it’s messy.” She paused, a flicker of vulnerability returning. Arcee’s fingers twitched, brushing the blanket again, her voice quieter.
“I just want to get it right,” she said, almost to herself. “For Jack, for… the protoform. I look at you, June, and I see what’s possible. Jack’s proof—his courage, his empathy. But the hard parts… the mistakes. I feel as if I've made so many already and - when it looked like the protoform... I thought that it was the worst mistake of my life.”
June’s smile turned wry, a laugh escaping her as she grabbed another grape, rolling it between her fingers.
“Oh, I messed up plenty,” she said, voice light but honest. “Snapped at Jack when I was stressed, pushed him too hard to be ‘responsible’ when he just needed to be a kid. The worst was feeling like I failed him—when he was lonely, or when I couldn’t fix things. But parenting’s not about being perfect. It’s about owning your mistakes, apologizing, trying again. Jack forgave me, always, because he knew I loved him. That’s what matters.”
“You make it sound simple,” Arcee said, tone slightly sarcastic. ”
“And you’re not alone," June said, splaying her hand on the ground and tracing random patterns as if too embarrassed to look up at her daughter-in-law. "Jack and I, the team—we’re in this with you. The protoform’s lucky to have you.”
Arcee’s optics softened, a low hum vibrating through her as she reached for the plastic bag, plucking out a grape with exaggerated care, holding it between her massive fingers like a delicate treasure as if showing off, or proving to herself that she could cradle it precisely and carefully enough to not squish it.
“Lucky, huh?” she said, smirking. “Let’s hope it thinks so when I’m trying to figure out its… whatever humans call maintenance. Diapers, ugh.”
They settled into a gentle stillness, the sun casting long shadows across the picnic blanket as June and Arcee’s conversation about parenting tapered into a quiet lull. The remnants of June’s lunch—a few grapes, a half-drunk bottle of lemonade, and the sandwiches —sat untouched, and she shifted on the ground, her legs tucking beneath her. The vastness of the landscape, a scrub-dotted expanse and distant rock formations, felt both comforting and isolating, and a faint awkwardness crept into June’s posture. Alone with Arcee, without Jack and in the silence, she wasn’t sure what to say next, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her tank top, the silence stretching just a moment too long.
Arcee, lounging with one massive leg bent, her blue-and-silver plating catching the sunlight, tilted her head, her optics softening as she broke the quiet.
“June, I'm sorry if it's not... alright to ask this, but-” she said, her voice almost trembling as if in some kind of terror or reverence, like she was treading over a graveyard or into sacred ground. “But... would you tell me about Jack’s father?”
June’s breath caught, her fingers stilling as her gaze dropped to the blanket, a flicker of old pain surfacing before she steadied herself.
Of course. Why would a child of war, soon to be a mother, want to know about growing up with only one parent?
june had wanted better for Jack's future wife, though not for Jack himself. Maybe it was a consequence of ingrained sexism, but she had never envisioned him raising a family alone, his wife lost "on deployment."
She leaned back on one hand, her other carding through her dark hair, and exhaled slowly, her voice measure.
“His name was Daniel,” she said, her eyes distant, fixed on a point beyond the horizon. “He was a military officer—career Army. He died in a war, in a country called Iraq. A long time ago.” She paused, her lips pressing together briefly, noting the infinitesimal quirking of Arcee's brow, likely because she didn't even know what 'Iraq' was. “The politics of it are... complicated, but they don't really matter. What mattered was that he was gone. Jack was still so young, and it was just the two of us.”
Arcee’s optics dimmed slightly, her massive frame shifting as she leaned forward, her hands resting on her knees, the blanket crinkling under her weight. She was silent for a moment, processing, her faceplate unreadable but her posture attentive, as if weighing June’s words against her own experiences.
“Loss like that…” she said finally, her voice quieter, carrying a weight of its own. “It changes you. I’ve lost too—Cliffjumper, Tailgate. Partners, friends. Each one… it’s like a piece of your spark gets torn out. For me, it made me close off, build walls. I got harder, sharper. Kept people at a distance so it wouldn’t hurt as much next time.” Her fingers twitched, a subtle gesture of restraint, and she looked at June, her optics searching. “You, though… you didn’t do that. You poured everything into Jack. How did you manage it?”
June’s smile was small, bittersweet.
“I don’t know if I managed anything,” she admitted, her voice soft, raw. “When Daniel died, I was… lost. Angry, scared, alone with a toddler who needed me to be everything. So I threw myself into Jack—every ounce of energy, every hope I had. I wanted him to have the best future possible, to be strong, kind, whole. Maybe I was trying to make up for Daniel’s absence, playing both parents, filling the gaps.”
“It wasn’t selfless, though." She looked up at Arcee, her eyes glistening but steady. "It was survival. Jack was my anchor, the reason I kept going. But it meant I didn’t let anyone else in, not for a long time. Not until… well, you and this whole mess with the Autobots.”
Arcee’s optics flickered, a low hum vibrating through her as she nodded, her massive hand shifting to rest closer to June, fingers brushing the edge of the blanket, and June reached out absent hesitation, pressing a palm to the metallic fingertip
“Survival,” Arcee echoed, her voice thoughtful, resonant. “That’s what it was for me too, after Cliff and Tailgate - my - my old partners." June wondered what kind, but, really, that didn't matter in the end - or when the end came. Only love did. "I fought harder, pushed myself into the war, let it define me. But it… narrowed me. Made me forget how to connect, until Jack came along.” She paused, her faceplate softening, a rare vulnerability showing. “He’s got this way of cracking you open, doesn’t he? Making you want to be more than just a soldier and believe that, maybe, you were more than that all along.”
June’s laugh was quiet, warm, her hand resting near Arcee’s, their fingers inches apart.
“He does,” she agreed, her voice tinged with pride. “Jack’s always had that gift—seeing people, really seeing them. It’s why I pushed so hard to give him a good life, even when I was drowning in grief. Losing Daniel… it taught me how fast everything can vanish. I wanted Jack to have roots, to know he was loved, no matter what.” She met Arcee’s gaze, her smile steadying. “You’ve lost so much, Arcee, but you’re still open to him - to me right now. That- that has to take a lot of strength given what you've been through. More than I know.”
Arcee’s optics glowed brighter, a soft chuckle rumbling through her as she leaned back, the desert sun glinting off her plating. “Really? I think that I still have a lot to learn about it,” she said, her tone warm, a hint of her usual flirt creeping in. “You took your loss and built Jack into someone extraordinary. I’m just trying to keep up, figure out how to be… whatever he needs. Whatever we need.”
We... That was an issue in itself. The fact that June had become wistful at the thought of her and Jack as a "we" was proof of it.
“Arcee,” June replied, her voice soft but deliberate, her eyes tracing the distant rock formations before meeting the fembot’s glowing optics. “We’ve talked about Jack, about the past, but… what about us? What are we to each other? Lovers, sure, but… I’m trying to figure out where we fit.”
Arcee’s faceplate tilted, her optics flickering with curiosity, a low hum vibrating through her as she leaned forward, her massive form casting a shadow over the blanket.
“Fit, huh?” she said, her tone warm, tinged with her usual flirtatious edge. “We’re definitely lovers, June, but I don’t think we need to pin it down. We’re both his, and we’re each other’s, too. Why does it need a label?”
June’s lips curved into a small, self-conscious smile, her fingers brushing a stray lock of dark hair behind her ear.
“Because-” That was a good question. Did everything need to be circumscribed by a name? Nonetheless, she pressed forward, already committed. "With Jack… I think I have to take a back seat—pun intended.” She chuckled weakly, gesturing toward Arcee’s form, then sobered. “I’m his mother, and yes, his lover, but you’re his wife, more or less. That bond, the one you two have—it’s different, deeper in a way I can’t touch. It feels like that should be the priority, for his sake.”
Arcee’s optics dimmed slightly, her head tilting as she processed June’s words, her fingers shifting to displace June's hand and brush the curve of her arm, trailing up to the edge of her shoulder.
“Wife,” she repeated, her voice thoughtful, almost skeptical. “That’s a human concept, June. I get what you’re saying—Jack and I, we’re bonded, spark to soul. But why do we have to frame it like that, with mother, son, lover, wife, all these boxes and priorities? Cybertronians don’t think that way. The way I see it, you, Jack, me—we’re a unit, a… constellation. No one’s in the back seat unless we put them there.” Her tone was firm but gentle, and that was an even deeper blow like a strike to the solar plexus that sent June reeling to the ground, gasping for air.
June exhaled, her smile rueful as she leaned back on her hands, her legs stretching out on the blanket, the desert’s warmth having soaked into her skin thoroughly. Only now, though, did she realize that she was prickling with heat, feeling the sweat pool along her collar and under her arms.
“You’re calling me out, aren’t you?” she said, her voice laced with humor but tinged with respect that Arcee was doubtlessly owed. Perceptive, setting boundaries, drawing things out, giving space. Mother already. “I guess I’m trying to fit us into boxes because that’s how humans make sense of things. Order out of uncertainty. It’s easier to navigate when I can name it. But you’re right… it doesn’t have to be that rigid. We’re more than labels, aren’t we?”
Arcee’s optics glowed brighter, a rich laugh rumbling through her as she shifted closer, giving June a light poke.
“Damn right we are,” she said, her voice playful, lightening the mood. “And let’s be real, June—rigid boxes sound boring as hell. Especially for you. I mean, I saw you with Jack in that cavern, and don’t think I missed those looks you were giving Miko.” Her tone turned teasing, flirty, her faceplate quirking into a smirk. “You’ve got a wild side, and I’m thinking it might be fun for both of us to play… let’s say, Jack’s ‘mommies’ every now and then, together.”
June’s cheeks flushed, a startled laugh bursting from her as she swatted Arcee’s hand, the metal cool under her palm.
“Oh, rather devious,” she said, her voice bright with amusement, though a spark of heat flickered in her eyes at the suggestion. “You and me, ganging up on Jack? Poor boy wouldn’t stand a chance.” She shook her head, her smile widening, the awkwardness of earlier dissolving into their shared playfulness.
Arcee chuckled, leaning back, her plating glinting in the fading sunlight. “That’s the spirit,” she said, her voice warm, affectionate. “So. No boxes, just us, figuring it out as we go. Creating something for ourselves.”
June’s gaze softened, her eyes tracing the sleek lines of Arcee’s faceplate, the glowing optics that held both strength and vulnerability. A quiet impulse stirred in her chest, and she shifted, rising to stand and beckon Arcee down, the massive fembot arching towards her with a quizzical look on her face as the sinuous curves of her chassis allowed her to nearly fold herself in two to lean into June's space.
“Arcee,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, laced with a kind of tenderness she'd not heard from herself in years, distinct even from the maternal sympathy and warmth she offered Jack. Heart skipping up to her throat, she reached out, her hands trembling slightly as they moved to cup Arcee’s cheeks, her fingers brushing the smooth, warm metal of the fembot’s faceplate, wide cheeks stroked by her palms. The size difference was almost comical—June’s hands small against Arcee’s towering form—but her touch was steady, deliberate, stroking gently as she guided Arcee’s head downward.
Arcee’s optics widened briefly, a low hum vibrating through her as she was drawn in. Their faces drew close, the desert breeze stirring between them, and June tilted her head, her lips parting as she pressed them softly against Arcee’s mouthplate. The kiss was gentle, exploratory, June’s softness meeting the firm, warm metal of Arcee’s lips. Arcee’s glossa, large and careful, brushed ever so faintly against June’s tongue, too massive to delve deeper but teasing.
The sensation was unlike anything Arcee had known with Jack—no spark-erupting bliss, no consuming need, none of the adoring love that defined their bond. Instead, it was a quiet solidarity, a calmness that enveloped them. June’s warmth, her softness, grounded Arcee in a way that felt new, peaceful, a connection that didn’t demand but simply was. June’s breath hitched slightly, her lips lingering before she pulled back, her hands still cupping Arcee’s cheeks, her face flushed, a pensive smile curving her lips as her blue eyes searched Arcee’s optics.
Arcee’s faceplate softened, her optics glowing a gentle azure, a faint flush of warmth in her systems mirroring June’s expression. She tilted her head, a quiet chuckle rumbling through her as she rested her massive hand beside June’s, their fingers brushing.
“Well, damn, June,” she said, her voice low, warm, laced with a playful sincerity. “That was… something else.” She paused, her optics flickering with a mix of amusement and certainty, her smile widening. “I think I’m gonna want to indulge in that more often. You good with that?”
June’s laugh was soft, a mix of relief and delight, her flush deepening as she lowered her hands, settling back on the blanket, her legs stretching out. “Yeah,” she said, her voice light but earnest, her eyes sparkling with a newfound ease. “I’m good with that. More than good.”
She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, her smile steady as she met Arcee’s gaze, suddenly feeling almost giggly.
Arcee tilted her head, her faceplate quirking into a sardonic smirk, her voice low and teasing, carrying a hint of challenge.
“Is it wrong that I want to make love to you right now?” Her optics flickered, a deliberate glint of mischief mixed with something deeper, her massive hand shifting to brush the blanket near June’s, fingers grazing the fabric.
June’s eyes widened, a startled laugh escaping her as she leaned forward, her dark hair falling over one shoulder.
“Don’t you mean have sex?” she replied airily, her tone light but her flush deepening, a spark of curiosity in her gaze as she met Arcee’s optics, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her tank top.
Arcee’s smirk softened, her head tilting closer, her voice dropping to a warm, earnest murmur.
“No. I mean I want to make love to you.” Her optics held June’s, steady and unguarded, the words carrying a weight of intention—not just physical..
June’s breath hitched, her smile turning playful, though her eyes shimmered with a mix of affection and heat. She leaned back on her hands, her legs stretching out on the blanket, and let out a soft chuckle.
“Well, when you put it like that…” she said, her voice teasing, then grinned wider, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Jack’s gonna be so sorry he missed this, isn’t he? Poor boy, stuck at school while we’re out here having all the fun.”
Arcee’s laugh rumbled, rich and resonant, her massive frame shaking slightly as she shifted closer, her hand resting fully beside June’s, their fingers nearly touching.
“Oh, he’ll be kicking himself,” she said, her tone dripping with mock pity, her optics twinkling. “But fair’s fair, right? He had his little shower escapade with you last night. I’d say we’re just evening the score.” Her voice turned flirty, a playful challenge in her smirk as she leaned in, her faceplate inches from June’s, the air between them warm, June's toes nearly curling up.
June’s cheeks flushed deeper, her laugh bright and unrestrained as she swatted Arcee’s hand.
“Evening the score, huh?” she said, her voice light with delight, though her gaze lingered on Arcee’s optics, a spark of heat flickering beneath her teasing. “Jack’s probably doodling in his notebook, oblivious to the trouble we’re plotting out here.”
Arcee chuckled, her optics glowing brighter, a low hum vibrating through her as she tilted her head, her tone softening but still playful.
“Trouble’s the best part,” she said, her massive finger brushing June’s shoulder, trailing down the curve of her side, all restrained power and force enough to rip apart steel beams, condensed down to a deliberate, gentle contact. “And I’m thinking we might just have to make a habit of this—keeping Jack on his toes, you and me. What do you say?”
June’s smile widened, her hand sliding to rest atop Arcee’s fingers, the touch a quiet affirmation of their growing closeness.
“I say we’re gonna drive him crazy,” she murmured, her voice warm, her eyes meeting Arcee’s with a blend of mischief and sincerity.
“And I’m all in for that.”
It took only a second for June to gather up the remnants of the largely-untouched lunch and pack them away, handing the bag off to Arcee who then transformed back into her vehicle mode and eased into position so that June could climb aboard her.
"Already, lover?" Arcee asked, which still took some getting used to because the voice emerged from somewhere near the handlebars and there was a vicarious dissociation to hearing a person talking to you from a motorcycle's console. That didn't stop June from leaning in and clenching her legs around the bot's chassis.
"Any time," she assured, dragging a thumb over Arcee's leather in a faintly intimate gesture. "I'll try not to make you late to pick up Jack."
Arcee just laughed, the sound sonorous and so human, before revving her engine and setting course for their cavern hideout. "Don't worry about it. He's got good legs. He can walk."
Well, hopefully, because June, squirming against Arcee's warm leather seat, didn't think that she was up for just a quickie...
Chapter 5
Summary:
The conversation continues, at times with words.
Lips are involved continuously, however.
Notes:
Thank you kindly for your readership.
This one is just... smut. Enjoy, I hope!
Chapter Text
The desert air was thickly warm, despite the fact that it left June’s tank top fluttering in the wind as she clung to Arcee’s motorcycle form, the sleek blue-and-silver chassis humming beneath her, the vibration of the engine sending a subtle thrill through her body. They sped away from the overlook, the vast landscape of scrub and rock blurring past. Her thighs pressed against Arcee’s warm metal, the rhythmic pulse of the ride stirring a rush of excitement in her chest, a faint wetness growing between her legs as she leaned into the curves, her hands gripping the handlebars tightly. The promise of “making love” Arcee had teased heightened every sensation, leaving her body alive with anticipation. It was honestly incredible how young she felt. Compared to Arcee, she had only lived a scant few seconds, of course.
Arcee’s voice crackled through her comm, low and flirty, cutting through the engine’s roar and causing June to slide that thought into a mental back pocket for later.
“Enjoying the ride, June?” she said, her tone laced with a knowing smirk. “You’re holding on pretty tight there. Something got you worked up?” The motorcycle accelerated slightly, a rush pressing June closer, amplifying the vibration against her core.
June’s laugh was breathy, her cheeks flushing as she leaned forward, her lips, under the visor kf her helmet, close to the handlebars as if that would help Arcee feel her words.
"Just get us to that cave, smartass. I’m not doing this on the side of a road," she said, her voice teasing but thick with heat. Her heart raced, the thrill of ... uncertainty —lovers, partners, bound by Jack but exploring each other...
The world was filled with tantalising unknowns. Things never considered. Never conceived to be considered...
Arcee chuckled, the sound vibrating through her frame, and picked up speed, weaving through the desert toward a familiar cave system outside Jasper. The entrance loomed ahead, and Arcee slowed, her tires crunching on gravel as she rolled inside, the dimness swallowing them. Once June dismounted with a slight tremble to her legs, she transformed in a fluid whirl of metal, her bipedal form towering yet graceful, her optics glowing a soft azure in the cave’s shadows and crystal lights as she turned to June.
The cave was cool, its walls rough and speckled with mineral flecks, the faint drip of water echoing in the distance, near the bathing pool. June stood close to Arcee, her tank top clinging to her curves, her dark hair slightly tussled when she removed her helmet, which she set on a nearby rock. She looked up at Arcee, her eyes shimmering with excitement and a hint of nervous anticipation, her body still humming from the ride.
“So,” she said, her voice soft but playful, stepping closer, her hand brushing Arcee’s massive thigh, the metal warm under her palm. “You were all talk out there about making love. Still feeling up to it, or was that just bravado?”
Arcee’s optics flickered, a low hum vibrating through her as she crouched slightly, bringing her faceplate closer to June’s, her massive hand resting lightly on the cave wall beside her, framing their space.
“Oh, I’m feeling it,” she murmured, her voice rich with flirtation, a playful edge softening her usual sardonic tone. “Question is, June—how are you doing? I’m game for whatever you’re feeling.”
Her free hand hovered near June’s waist, fingers twitching with restraint, the size difference a challenge but not a barrier as they had found in this very cave.
June’s breath hitched, a shiver running through her as she stepped closer and allowed Arcee to pick her up and bring her close, her hands sliding up Arcee’s chest plating, tracing the smooth, warm contours with a mix of curiosity and desire.
This time, it was Arcee allowing her to set the pace. Define and test boundaries.
What were they?
What did June want to be right now?
That was the choice given over to her.
“I’m feeling… adventurous,” she said, her voice low, a smile curving her lips as she pressed herself against Arcee’s frame, the metal cool against her flushed skin. “Let’s see what we can do, you and me.” Her fingers lingered, exploring the seams of Arcee’s armor, her touch tentative but eager.
Arcee’s optics glowed brighter, a soft chuckle rumbling as she carefully adjusted her position, sitting against the cave wall to lessen the height gap, and she set the other woman down on her chest.
“Adventurous, huh? I like that,” she said, her tone warm, encouraging. Her hand moved, a single massive finger brushing June’s hip, feather-light, testing her response. June gasped softly, her body arching slightly, the contact sending a spark of heat through her.
June’s hands grew bolder, sliding to Arcee’s shoulders, her fingers digging into the grooves of her plating as she leaned up, pressing a kiss to the edge of Arcee’s faceplate, her lips soft against the metal.
“You’re warm,” she murmured, her voice thick with arousal, her breath hitching as Arcee’s finger traced a slow line up her side, brushing along her tank top and lifting the edge. The size difference forced the to be creative, June’s touches small, human, while Arcee’s were careful, deliberate, her massive form humming with restrained power.
Arcee’s optics softened, her voice a low purr as she tilted her head, her glossa brushing ever so faintly against June’s collarbone, eliciting a light moan.
“Somehow, you’re even softer than I expected,” she said, licking her lips, her tone reverent, playful. "Weird since we were already together."
“But not moving this slowly," June observed with a faint gasp. "Damn, it’s good.”
Her finger circled June’s waist, a gentle pressure that made June’s hips shift, her wetness more pronounced, her excitement palpable. There was no more time to waste. June, with some support by way of a careful hand, eased herself down between Arcee's legs.
Maneuvering into position as Arcee exposed her self by undoing her crotch plate, June knelt before her partner's massive blue-and-silver frame, her tank top clinging and coarse, entirely too tight, her dark hair loose and tousled as she leaned into the fembot’s pelvic interface. Tentatively, her hands brushed the edges of Arcee's labia, testing and exploring with a mix of lingering uncertainty and raw desire.
Arcee sat against the cave wall, her towering form adjusted to give June access before she deactivated her leg servos, leaving her limbs limp, her optics with flickering with pleasure as June’s touch sent pulses through her circuits.
The rough stone floor pressed against June’s knees as she took up a position before the slick and glistening folds of her daughter in law.
June’s fingers, wetted from Arcee’s glowing interface, circled the crystalline node at the apex of Arcee’s pussy, her clit, pulsing with soft, radiant light and nearly singing with vibrations. Her breath hitched, a surge of boldness driving her as she leaned forward, her lips brushing the warm, shimmering surface, tasting the faint metallic tang, alien yet intoxicatingly sweet. She parted her lips, sucking gently on the crystalline node, her tongue teasing its edges as more saccharin lubricant filled mouth, the hum of energy tingling against her lips.
Arcee’s frame shuddered, a low whine escaping her vocalizer, her massive hands gripping the cave floor, fingers digging into the stone and June was glad that she had locked her lower frame to keep from shaking or bucking.
“June… frag,” Arcee gasped, her voice a mix of static and heat, her optics dimming as pleasure coursed through her. “You’re… too good at this. Keep… keep going.” Her massive chest heaved, the flexible alloys of her breasts deforming faintly as she cupped them to squeeze the supple flesh and roll the nipples with the pads of her thumbs, her systems humming louder, the cave amplifying the sound of her restrained desire. Under the pressure of her thumbs, the faintest stream of protogon leaked out from her nipples, trailing down her curves.
June’s heart raced, her own arousal spiking as she sucked harder, her lips and tongue working the crystalline node with growing confidence, the act of eating Arcee’s “pussy” igniting a primal thrill.
How she'd ever thought that she was strictly dickly when it turned out that she loved going down on another woman this much was kind of baffling.
Her right hand, slick with the interface’s shimmering lubricant, pressed against the slick opening below, her fingers curling into a fist as she eased it inside, the massive scale of Arcee’s eighteen-foot frame making the act bold but feasible, the warm, pulsing interior yielding to her touch.
"Slag!" Arcee yelped the instant that June's fist pushed through into the clenching wet heat of her pussy, the bot's entire frame nearly convulsing as she loosed a low keening moan. Arching her back, she started down the length of her body, over her hands and breasts to watch as June sank her arm into Arcee's pussy up to the mid forearm. "F-forgot how g-good that feels."
Fuck, that was hot...
"Primus," Arcee almost choked, a quiver of her walls and sudden increase in the tightens and suction of her pussy, locking in to match the girth of her arm perfectly while still stretching, slick lubricant pouring out over June's fist as she flexed it in the wet tunnel, running through the cobalt blue folds.
"More." The plea was almost pitifully desperate. "June, all the way inside."
She moved slowly, rhythmically, her fist sliding in and out, feeling the hum of Arcee’s systems respond and closing the distance to nuzzle and lick at the crown of the bot's folds, imbibing some of the sweet lubricant, leaving her lips and chin with a patina of fluid, the fembot’s whines growing sharper, more desperate.
June pulled back briefly, her lips glistening, her eyes wide with awe and heat as she looked up at Arcee, her voice breathy, laced with wonder.
"God, eating pussy is… great ,” she murmured, a laugh breaking through her arousal, her hand still working Arcee’s interface, her fist moving steadily. “You’re so responsive, Arcee. This is… I mean, I’m hooked. I really want to try this with a human someday—"
Arcee’s laugh was strained, a mix of pleasure and amusement, her optics flickering as she tilted her head, her massive hand brushing June’s shoulder, gentle despite her size.
"You’re… ngh … dreaming big,” she teased, her voice thick with static, her frame trembling despite her locked servos. “Human, Cybertronian… you’re gonna be trouble, June. But right now? Keep that mouth on me."
June grinned, her lips returning to the crystalline node, sucking with renewed fervor, her tongue swirling as her fist pumped deeper, the slick warmth of Arcee’s interface pulsing around her hand. Her own arousal soaked through her shorts, her hips shifting as she lost herself in the act.
“You’re making me love this, Arcee… all of it,” she murmured against Arcee’s clit, her voice muffled, vibrant with desire. Her movements grew bolder, her lips and hand working in tandem, Arcee’s whines filling the cave.
June’s lips and hand worked her crystalline clit and slick inner interface. The rough stone floor bit into June’s knees, but she barely noticed, her body thrumming with arousal, her shorts damp with her own need.
June’s lips pulled back from the shimmering crystalline node, her breath hot and uneven, her eyes wild with desire as she gazed up at Arcee, the fembot’s whines fueling her boldness. Her right hand, slick with the interface’s luminescent lubricant, curled into a fist, already buried deep in Arcee’s pulsing, warm interior, the scale of the Cybertronian anatomy accommodating her touch. But June wanted more—wanted to push Arcee to the edge, to lose herself in the act of fucking her. With a low, determined moan, she shifted, her entire right arm sliding deeper, past her elbow, the slick, yielding interface enveloping her with a warm, humming grip, every movement sending tremors through Arcee’s frame.
“June… frag , you’re—” Arcee’s voice broke into a static-laced groan, her massive chest heaving, the flexible alloys of her breast-like curves glowing brighter, her locked leg servos straining to hold her still. Her hands clawed at the cave floor, stone crunching under her fingers as she fought to keep from bucking, her optics dimming with overload. “F-fuck that's big - Don't stop… please,” she whined, her tone raw, desperate, a mix of surrender and need, her systems sparking with the rough, tender assault of June’s arm.
June’s movements were intense, rough but infused with care, her arm pumping in a steady, relentless rhythm, the slick warmth of Arcee’s interface pulsing around her, each thrust drawing a sharper whine from the fembot.
A massive puff of air, almost steaming, poured out of Arcee's clenched teeth, the bot's head tilting backwards so that she could grunt up towards the ceiling of the cavern; when she refocused, as best as she could from June's observation of her hazing eyes, all while she tried to keep up the vague punching and shifting motion that was driving her fist into her daughter-in-law's cunt, Arcee offered her a shaky smirk.
"T-trying to ruin me, eh, June?" she gasped as June doubled the force of her next thrust. If the girl was talking, that probably meant she was doing something wrong. Didn't stop Arcee, though, who continued on as if trying to spur her to greater degeneracy.
"Gonna stretch out my- my cunt," Arcee nearly choked out. "So - so I only get off for you? Keep your baby's monster cock all to yourself?"
Why on Earth would she want that?
It was way too much fun to watch her baby fucking his wife.
As she smirked, shaking her head, her left hand gripped Arcee’s thigh, fingers digging into the seams of her plating, anchoring herself as she fucked her deeper, her own body trembling with the erotic power of it.
“God, Arcee,” she gasped, her voice thick with lust, her lips glistening from earlier,
“You’re so… fucking beautiful like this. Losing it for me.” Her arm twisted slightly, exploring, the crystalline node pulsing under her gaze, her tenderness evident in the way her eyes flicked to Arcee’s, checking her response, ensuring her pleasure.
Arcee’s frame shuddered violently, her whines escalating into a keening cry, her optics flaring as June’s arm drove deeper, the rough pace pushing her systems to the brink.
“June… I’m— ngh —gonna overload,” she gasped, her voice fracturing, static bursting through her vocalizer. Her massive hand reached for June, fingers brushing her shoulder with desperate gentleness, the size difference making the touch feather-light but electric, grounding them both. Her interface clenched around June’s arm, the glowing lubricant slicking her skin, the crystalline clit almost seeming to throb.
June’s own arousal surged, her wetness soaking through her shorts, her hips grinding instinctively against the air as she leaned forward, her lips brushing the crystalline node again, a quick, hungry suck before returning to her arm’s rhythm.
“Let go, Arcee,” she murmured, her voice low, fervent, laced with care, lips brushing Arcee's clit with each murmur, “I’ve got you. Come for me.”
Her arm thrust harder, deeper, rough but precise, her muscles straining, her tenderness in the way she held Arcee’s gaze, her left hand stroking the fembot’s thigh, soothing even as she fucked her senseless, finally, with a heaving motion of her whole body, ramming her arm into Arcee's pussy up to the shoulder, this last thrust as brutal as she could manage.
Arcee’s cry shattered the cave’s stillness, a raw, electric sound as her systems hit overload, her interface spasming around June’s arm, waves of energy pulsing through her frame, her optics flaring white-hot before dimming to a soft glow. Her chest heaved, the glowing alloys of her breasts shimmering, her locked servos trembling as she rode the waves, her whines softening into breathless static. “June… frag … you’re…” she panted, her voice a mix of awe and exhaustion, her massive hand cupping June’s shoulder, pulling her closer, a tender anchor in the aftershock.
June slowed her movements, her arm easing out gently, slick with glowing lubricant, her breath ragged as she leaned against Arcee’s thigh, her own body trembling with unspent arousal, her eyes shining with triumph and affection.
“You’re incredible,” she whispered, her voice hoarse, a smile curving her lips as she pressed a soft kiss to Arcee’s plating, her hands stroking the fembot’s frame, soothing her through the comedown. “God, that was… intense. You okay?”
Arcee’s laugh was weak, warm, her optics glowing softly as she tilted her head, her massive finger brushing June’s cheek, a delicate gesture despite her the sheer inhuman power that thrummed through ever centimeter of her frame.
“Okay? June, you… you wrecked me,” she said, her voice thick with affection, a playful edge returning. “Never thought… damn. You and Jack, using your whole arm - it's - it's really something else." She shook clear the last of the haze, and then gave June a look of such unabashed desire that it nearly left her weak in the knees. Her glossa flicked out, running over her own pliable metal lips, drawing a shiver from June as she watched the dexterous mechanical muscle slick over her partner's labia.
“Your turn next,” Arcee said playfully, beckoning June over with a quirked finger.
Not a moment too soon since June, now that her conscious mind was no longer hyperfixated on Arcee, became suddenly aware of her own whelming need.
June’s skin glistened, her tank top clinging to her heaving breasts, the fabric stretched taut over her hardened nipples, her dark hair a wild cascade sticking to her flushed cheeks. The rough stone floor was forgotten as she stood, trembling with unspent desire, her shorts discarded, her sodden panties a damp heap beside them, revealing her smooth, bare cunt, slick with her own wetness, glistening in the dim glow of the cave, Arcee’s optics fixated on the juncture between her legs. Arcee’s massive frame leaned back against the cave wall, her hands still trembling from her overload, her azure optics blazing with hunger, locked on June’s exposed body, her glossa twitching with anticipation.
June’s breath was ragged, her eyes wild with lust as she stepped closer, her voice a low growl.
“Your turn to make me scream, Arcee,” she said, her lips curling into a wicked smile, her arousal dripping down her inner thighs. “I want that tongue inside me. Let’s see how you handle this.”
That was bolder that she expected, even if she'd been incredibly forward with her own son not twelve hours ago. Maybe it had something to do with the harmless radiation pouring out from Arcee's spark chamber that wore away at inhibitions, the novelty of the experience, the authentic connection that she'd felt throughout their desert picnic, or just the taboo thrill coursing through her—fucking her son’s wife, riding the Autobot who shared Jack’s spark, the rawness of the idea igniting every nerve.
Arcee’s optics flared, a deep hum vibrating through her as she shifted, her massive hands gentle but firm as she helped June climb her frame.
“I guess you're pretty used to riding me at this point,” she purred, her voice thick with heat, her glossa extending, a broad, warm appendage shimmering with lubricant and, if June was right, a kind of faint bioluminescence, ready to taste June’s slick heat. June gripped Arcee’s shoulder plating, her fingers digging into the seams, her bare feet finding purchase on the fembot’s chassis as Arcee’s hands cupped her hips, lifting her with ease, positioning her above her faceplate. June’s cunt hovered inches from Arcee’s mouth, her smooth, bare lips swollen and dripping, her clit pulsing with need that sent nearly electric shivers into her gut, heat pooling and coiling.
June lowered herself, a guttural moan tearing from her throat as Arcee’s massive glossa dipped into her slick cunt, the warm, broad surface sliding against her folds, parting them with a slow, deliberate stroke. The texture was unlike anything human— perfectly smooth yet firm, faintly ridged nothing like the buds of a human tongue, humming with a subtle energy that sent shocks through June’s core. She ground her hips, riding Arcee’s tongue, her thighs trembling as the appendage pressed deeper, filling her, stretching her with its size, the wet heat of her arousal coating Arcee’s faceplate, glistening in the cave’s dimness. June’s hands clawed at Arcee’s head, fingers gripping the edges of her helm, her nails scraping metal as she bucked, her body a vision of raw, uninhibited desire.
“Fuck, Arcee… yes ,” June gasped, her hips grinding harder, her cunt clenching around the glossa as it thrust in and out, Arcee’s movements precise, hungry, matching June’s rhythm. Her breasts bounced under the tank top, the fabric riding up to expose her toned stomach, her skin slick with sweat, her face contorted in ecstasy—eyes half-lidded, lips parted, a flush spreading from her cheeks to her chest. The very thought of what she must look like riding Arcee’s face was obscene, glorious—June’s bare, dripping pussy grinding against the fembot’s massive tongue, her thighs spread wide, her hips rolling with shameless abandon, every curve of her body taut with pleasure as she gazed down into her lover's fiery optics, partly supported by warm metal fingers around her buttock and sides.
Arcee’s optics glowed brighter, her hums vibrating through her glossa, amplifying June’s sensations, her massive hands steadying June’s hips, fingers brushing the curve of her ass, encouraging her to ride harder even as she pressed the flat of her glossa to June's folds and swirled, tip creeping backwards to slide through the curve of June's pert ass, between her cheeks, dragging over the puckered star of her asshole in a way that nearly had her stalling out. Electric, crackling flames skittered into her belly and pooled in her already sodden pussy all while the memory of Daniel, wholly sweet and indulgent, slammed into her - easing her open, slathering her in lube, filling her up, teasing her pussy while he used her ass....
It had been so long...
Arcee's glossa curled slightly, teasing June’s clit with its tip, the contact sending a jolt through her and obliterated the gestating thought, her moans escalating into screams that echoed off the cave walls.
And Jack was bigger than his father...
June’s mind spun, the taboo thrill fueling her frenzy—she was fucking her son’s wife, grinding on Arcee’s face, the Autobot’s tongue buried in her cunt, and it was everything .
“God, Arcee, you’re… making me crazy,” she panted, her voice hoarse, spurring her on. “Keep going, fuck me deeper… I’m so close.” Her hips bucked wildly, her cunt slick and pulsing, her clit grinding against the glossa’s ridges, her body writhing, one hand planted to Arcee's cheek and the other groping her own breast. Faintly, from behind her, she could hear that slick, wet noise of Arcee dragging the fingers of her free hand along the folds of her own pussy, something June confirmed by glancing over her shoulder for a moment. Turning back, she found that Arcee was staring up at her, optics only inches away and mechanical pupils dilated in, hyperfocused and alight with glee and awe. Her fingers clenched into the edge of Arcee’s helm, pulling hard to grind herself against her daughter-in-law's mouth, her moans raw, unfiltered, as she chased her climax.
In response, Arcee’s glossa thrust deeper, filling June’s cunt, the vibrations intensifying like she was revving her engine, her optics locked on June’s face, drinking in the sight of her unraveling—her sweat-slicked skin, her bouncing breasts, her dripping pussy grinding with desperate need. June’s screams peaked, her body seizing as her orgasm crashed through her, her cunt clenching around Arcee’s tongue, waves of pleasure ripping through her, her thighs shaking, her juices coating the fembot’s faceplate, glistening in the azure glow. She rode out the aftershocks, her hips slowing, her moans softening into whimpers, her body slumping against Arcee’s helm, spent but radiant.
Arcee’s hands gently lowered June, cradling her against her chest, her glossa retracting, her faceplate slick with June’s arousal, her optics soft with awe and affection.
“Frag, June,” she murmured, her voice warm, a hint of static lingering, “you’re… unreal. That was… damn .” Her massive finger brushed June’s cheek, a tender gesture, her hum soothing as June tried to suck down enough air to stave off unconsciousness, her body still trembling, cunt pulsing with the afterglow.
June’s laugh was breathless, her head resting against Arcee’s plating, her voice hoarse.
“Unreal’s right,” she said, her eyes shining with heat and trust, her fingers stroking Arcee’s cheeks as she lay there in the crook of her neck, legs to the bot's upper chest plating. “God, I’m… I think I'm addicted.”
The air thick with the scent of sweat, arousal, and the faint metallic tang of Arcee’s lubricant, so thick that she could still taste it with every gulp of air. June leaned against Arcee’s massive blue-and-silver frame, her bare legs splayed, her smooth, slick cunt still throbbing from the orgasm she’d ridden out on Arcee’s tongue. Her dark hair clung to her flushed cheeks, her blue eyes glinting with a restless hunger, her body craving more despite the intensity of that last orgasm. Raising herself up, which necessitated that she scoop up June's acquiescing form and set her down on the cavern floor, Arcee sat braced against the cave wall, her faint trembles a mirror to the other woman. June’s juices left her labia slick, while her own interface—shimmering and wet—ached with renewed need after tasting the other woman.
“Still want you,” she growled, her voice a low, husky purr, thick with static and lust. Her optics locked on June, a wicked glint sparking as she began to masturbate, her massive finger circling the crystalline node, slow and deliberate, her interface clenching with each stroke, a soft whine escaping her vocalizer. With a soft click, her chest plate parted, revealing her spark chamber, a pulsing orb of white-blue energy casting a low, ambient glow over the cave, washing over June’s bare skin. The spark’s radiant warmth enveloped her, an electric pulse that sank into her core, igniting an intense flush of arousal, her body trembling as a slutty, wanton need overtook her, her mind hazing with raw desire.
June’s breath hitched, her eyes widening as the spark’s glow pulsed through her, her cunt throbbing, her skin prickling with heat.
“Arcee… fuck!” She slid closer, settling beside Arcee’s thigh, her bare skin brushing the warm metal, her hand diving between her own legs. Her fingers plunged into her dripping cunt, slick with her arousal, her thumb grinding her swollen clit, her hips bucking as she gave herself over to the dream-like pull of the power radiating off of her lover's core, her body alive with the spark’s influence.
“That- God, I’m so fucking horny,” she moaned, her eyes locked on Arcee’s glowing interface, mesmerized by the sight of the fembot’s pleasure, their shared heat drawing her in like they were a pair of magnets.
They sat side by side, the cave’s rough stone cool against their backs, their gazes locked as they fingered themselves, June’s small, human hand a stark contrast to Arcee’s massive, precise movements, the slick sounds of their arousal—wet flesh and humming metal—mingling with their ragged breaths. Arcee’s whines grew sharper, her optics dimming as she leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial purr.
“You know,” she said, her tone thick with lust, “I did this once… listening to you and Jack in the showers. Heard every moan as you played with each other, your screams when he fucked you with his fingers. Couldn’t see, but I imagined it - and more: his cock deep in you, your legs around him, your tits bouncing. Frag, I wanted to watch so bad.”
June’s moan was raw, her fingers thrusting deeper, her cunt clenching at Arcee’s words, the taboo image of Jack fucking her in the shower, watched by Arcee, amplified by the spark’s glow, sending a jolt through her.
“Fuck, Arcee,” she panted, her voice hoarse, her hips bucking against her hand, her eyes wide with heat. “You got off to us? That’s… so fucking hot. I’d have let you watch—Jack’s cock stretching my pussy, my ass grinding against him, you touching yourself like this.” Her fingers moved faster, her clit pulsing under her thumb, her dirty talk spilling out, fueled by the spark’s wanton pull and their shared fantasies.
Arcee’s whine spiked, her finger plunging into her interface, the crystalline clit flaring brighter, her spark’s glow intensifying, bathing June in its radiant heat. “Yeah? You’d let me watch?” she growled, her voice static-laced, her optics burning into June’s. “I’d want more, June—Jack fucking your pussy while you suck my clit. And Miko… slag, I’d have her on her knees, her tongue cleaning up the mess.” To her mind, addled both by the furious masturbation as she swirled three fingers over her labia, raising one slightly to probe at the little cluster of nerves that crowned her womanhood, and the rhythmic pulsations from Arcee's core, nothing could sound sweeter. An orgy of lovely girls sharing her son's cock. Bodies, limbs, tongues, lips, hands, and genitals all tangled. It was good that Miko hadn't walked in on her at this moment because if she had another woman in reach - Miko, Jack's schoolboy crush, Sierra, hell, one of her "MILF" coworkers - she probably wouldn't be able to stop herself. Her arousal spiraled as the shared fantasy decohered into flashes of images and sensations, impulses and random half-considered yearnings.
June’s cry echoed, her fingers fucking her cunt harder, her juices dripping onto the stone, her body arching as Arcee’s dirty talk and the spark’s glow pushed her closer to the edge.
“Miko… fuck, yes,” she gasped, her voice raw, her eyes locked on Arcee’s glowing interface, mesmerized by the fembot’s motions as she played with herself, mirroring June as if trying to learn how to touch herself. “I’d ride her face, her tongue licking my pussy, while Jack… God, Jack’s cock in my ass-" That actually stalled out Arcee's self-pleasuring for just a moment as her processors seemed to struggle to catch up to the image that was searing its way through June's mind, which meant that she simply had to push hard. Almost heaving with a laugh, sucking wind and sputtering at the femme's wide-eyed expression of awe, she pushed on. "I’d kiss Miko’s lips, taste myself on her, make her scream.” Her hips bucked, her fingers relentless, her clit throbbing, the fantasy of Jack and Miko intertwining with their current heat, her arousal stoked to an inferno by the pulsations from Arcee's brilliant spark chamber that washed away inhibition, propriety, and, well, self-deluded comphet by all appearances.
Arcee’s optics flared, her whine fracturing into a keening cry, her finger circling her crystalline clit faster, her interface spasming, her spark’s glow pulsing wildly as she spiraled up, and up to the point that, if she needed to breathe, she'd probably be lightheaded she was so very high, questing after some vision to match June's own.
“June, I’d- I'd have Jack to my breasts, sucking up protogon like a greedy scraplet as he fisted his monster cock, you between my legs, using your fist and sitting on Miko’s face, eating your pussy,” she gasped, her voice breaking, her massive, free hand gripping the stone beside her, cracking it. "Both our babies learning how to be good - Slag, kissing you while Jack takes your ass, sucking Miko’s tits, her riding Jack's cock - frag, I want it all.” Her body shook, her overload imminent, her optics never leaving June’s writhing form, her slick fingers a blur against her glowing pussy.
June’s screams peaked, her cunt clenching around her fingers, her orgasm tearing through her, waves of pleasure crashing as the spark’s glow amplified every sensation, her juices soaking her hand, dripping onto the stone, her breasts heaving under the tank top, her face contorted in ecstasy—lips parted, eyes rolling back, a slutty, wanton goddess lost in lust. Arcee’s cry joined hers, her interface spasming, her crystalline clit flaring bright, her lubricant flooding her fingers, her spark pulsing in sync, her whine softening into static as she slumped against the wall, her optics dimming to a soft glow.
They panted, side by side, their hands slowing, slick with their own arousal, their gazes meeting in a haze of satisfaction and shared secrets. June’s laugh was breathless, her fingers trailing lazily through her folds, her voice hoarse.
“God, Arcee… we’re filthy,” she said, her eyes sparkling with affection. “A woman my age shouldn't be fantasizing about collecting a- a harem of teenagers… I think I'm obsessed.” She leaned against Arcee’s thigh, her touch lingering.
Arcee’s chuckle was warm, static-laced, her massive finger brushing June’s hair, tender despite her size, her spark chamber closing with a soft click, the glow dimming. "Oh, and here I thought that I was collecting a harem of humans," she said with a teasing grin, softened in a way that made June's belly squirm like it did back when she was a teen, just learning how to love. What was it about these two, her baby and her- her lover (that would suffice for now, if a label was really needed), that could make her feel like this on a regular basis?
"Oh?" she said, still flushed and sticky but not even thinking about bathing just yet as she lay there on the stone with Arcee cradling her as close as she possibly could in light of their differences in size and composition, flesh to metal. "Is that what you 'bots are really here for?"
"Alien invaders here to steal all the pretty 'ganics for our - uh... where do you keep a harem?" Arcee asked, brow quirking as she mulled in such a ridiculous way that June nearly snorted.
"A sex dungeon, probably, or a palace with eunuch guards," she answered, gesturing for Arcee to pick her up again, though her hands were trembling still from the force of that last orgasm, her body slightly liquid at this point
In response, Arcee slipped a metal hand underneath her, allowing her a moment to settle comfortably, which required her to tuck in her legs given that Arcee wasn't as gargantuan as Bulkhead, just huge compared to a human being, and raised June upwards to lay her out on the bot's chest, cuddled close to her breasts and inches away from the open spark chamber. The expression of utmost and almost unfathomable trust, like letting a human poke around the edge of your brain with half your skill missing, wasn't lost on her.
“What's a eunuch?” she asked, her brow pinching softly with curiosity.
Grimacing and shaking her head, June just responded, "Don't ask."
"Heard, babe," Arcee said with a quick cock of her head. Glancing down at June, she seemed to sigh as if contented, breathing in and out slowly as a grind of stone and metal let June know that she'd reactivated her legs and was shifting, perhaps to get more comfortable before her grin widened.
“Those fantasies, June… we might need to make some real. Jack’s gonna lose it.” Her tone was playful, but her gaze held promise, their bond deeper, rawer, newly forged and lashed together not just by the sex but everything that it meant, to be alone, without Jack, though not absent his presence in the ways that mattered. Not replacing old bonds or eroding them, but weaving in another thread so that the entire cord was, June hoped and felt and believed because those were all very different things, stronger.
Rather than untangling that knot of affect, June just set her head to the warm platting of Arcee's chest, relishing the faint rush of breath from Arcee's mouth - wondering why she actually did breathe - that carried with it a kind of static promise like the heavy air before a spring thundershower, the scents of grass and flowers and distant moisture thick in her nose.
"You know," she began softly, gazing up at Arcee's eyes. "I think that we're a bad influence on each other."
Arcee just smirked, drawing her finger alone June's back, tracing her spine gently. "Oh, the absolute worst."
June was going to be very, very happy with that.
Chapter 6
Summary:
Miko and Jack have one of those long-awaited conversations.
Jack and Arcee take care of their... husband?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
After the final bell rang, signalling the end of the school day, Jack parted from a rather perfunctory conversation with Raph; he couldn't help but feel that things were awkward between them given the fact that the other boy had admitted that June was, well, a MILF and Jack both couldn't really talk about the fact that said MILF - an apt appellation, of course - was kind -of-sort-of-maybe-spoken-for and that made it super weird to know that another male was thinking about her that way (was that sexist or possessive because he had no issues with Miko or Arcee thinking about his mom that way?).
That half-formed spiral slide of self-recrimination and anxious brooding over the intricacies of having sex with your mom regularly was mercifully dispelled when he crossed the threshold of his school's entrance, slipping through the doorway to find Miko and a cacophonous wail of thrash metal that was currently pouring out, tinny and grating, from her cell phone's speaker as other students shot her glares in passing, waiting for him. With her butt seated on the railing that boxed in the landing outside just beyond the door, perched in place, and legs swinging back and forth absently as she focused on her cell phone screen, his first impulse was to tell her to get down because she could fall and break her neck.
Good god. He was a stick in the mud.
Fortunately, catching a glimpse of him in her peripheries, he assumed, she resolved that conundrum for him as well, clicking the power button on her cell phone, cutting off the racket, and hopping down, shoes clapping against the pavement as she landed. Plucking up her jacket from the railing to sling it over her shoulder she sauntered over to him, her grin brightening.
“Survive the day, Darby?” she called, her voice carrying over the crowd.
“Barely,” Jack said, his smile tired but genuine as he joined her, his backpack slung low. “You? Any explosions in shop?”
“Nah. I save those masterpieces for performance art,” Miko said, falling into step beside him. “So, what’s the plan? You running back to your girls, or you got time for, say, a burger with me?” Her tone was playful, but her eyes held a quiet hope, probably, Jack had to assume, because she was actually trying, putting herself out there in a normal context for conversation rather than copulation.
Respecting his request.
Jack hesitated, his thoughts flickering to June and Arcee, the protoform, the war. But Miko’s grin, her effort to meet him halfway, pulled him back.
“Burger sounds good,” he said, his voice warm, his hand brushing her shoulder briefly. “But you’re buying. I’m broke.”
Miko shrugged as if his financial and paternal struggles were water off a duck's back, before slugging him in the shoulder hard enough for it to throb the rest of their walk to a nearby diner.
"Could always make extra money as a gigolo, mister monster cock," she shot at him, wiggling her brows.
The fact that it was entirely audible, drawing about twelve pairs of boggling eyes from the throngs of students who were, as of yet, unfamiliar with Miko (the other hundred or so in close proximity just ignored her) only made Jack slump and groan into the palm that he slapped to his face.
Maybe she was meeting him three-quarters of the way.
Jack and Miko slid into a pair of worn vinyl seats by the window that overlooked a cracked Jasper sidewalk. The air was thick with the scent of frying burgers and coffee. The jukebox in the corner played a soft rendition of some ‘80s rock ballad, barely audible over the clatter of plates and the low hum of after-school chatter as the place was slowly swelling with teenagers who had been disgorged from their classes.
Jack set his backpack beside him, taking a minute to send a text to his mom to let her know that he'd be eating out tonight, while Miko, to the disaffected half-second glare of a passing waitress, sprawled across from him, her boots propped on the seat and back set to the wall just under the broad window. After a slightly sheepish Jack placed his order, keeping it to just a burger and water since there was a faint bubbling sensation of guilt over grifting off Miko (and honestly, that Gigolo comment kind of recontextualized her buying him dinner), their burgers arrived in short order, Miko's plate also spilling over with fries and accompanied by a perspiring Coke.
Jack took a bite, ketchup smudging his lip as he leaned back, his hazel eyes scanning Miko’s face, which was for the most part inscrutably chipper.
“So,” he said, chewing and swallowing some rather greasy meat that was balanced in part by surprisingly fresh lettuce and tomato, “you gonna keep me guessing about what’s up with you?”
Miko smirked, popping a fry into her mouth, her pink-streaked hair catching the warm late afternoon light pouring in over her shoulders.
“What? A girl can't be all respectful and try to chat up a guy? Here I am being so considerate since you wanted to talk. Questioning my motives, Darby?"
"I didn't mean it like that, Miko," he responded, leaning in over the burger on his plate and grabbing for the salt just to find something to do with his hands. After giving the container a few shakes over his burger, he fiddled with the metal cap absently.
"I mean, the nerve. If I had ulterior motives, we'd already be playing footsie under the table," Miko observed with a faintly imperious and officious tone while looking down her nose at him as if she was some kind of aggrieved teacher, offended by his uncouth behavior, though that impression was undercut by the impish grin that was trying to break out on her lips. "The place is pretty busy. Probably could have given you a foot job without anyone being any the wiser."
"Good lord, Miko!" Jack hissed as the notion sucker-punched him in the gut and he glanced around over his shoulders at the assembled patrons and staff to see if anyone had overheard that over the din of conversation. Apparently, two teens, even if Miko was made up somewhat garishly, leather jacket and pink hair acting like some kind of aposematism in a relatively conservative and broadly homogenous small town like Jasper, weren't all that worthy of attention, though; it seemed from the uninterrupted banter, a few clusters of youths also roughhousing a little bit as the afternoon crowd of teens was apparently somewhat raucous, that no one was really paying them any attention.
"Just sayin'," Miko offered with a shrug before taking a slurp from her coke and extending a palm towards him.
"Okay, so, is this you being good?" Jack scoffed as he handed the salt shaker to her, even though he knew full well that, sadly and gladly at once, it really was.
"Look at you, Darby." Gesturing at him with her glass of coke, the ice cubes clinking against its sides and foaming cola sloshing with the violence of the gesture, Miko shook her head as if ashamed of him. "Wanting to get to know a girl before getting a footjob. So what about you? You willing to show yours first and talk about where you got that responsible quasi-emo vibe."
"Emo?" His rather milquetoast shirt and unassuming jeans, as well as features that were sporting precisely zero guy-liner, did not exactly scream emo when he gave himself a quick once over and checked his faint reflection in the window beside him. He turned back to Miko who was now pouring some salt and vinegar over her fries. "What?"
"Quasi-emo vibes, I said," Miko explained as if it was obvious. "Not looks. Kind of grumpy and sullen and withdrawn. Keep up, Darby."
Arcee at full throttle probably wouldn't be able to keep up with Miko.
"Alright, so, yeah, I can start if that-" he was about to say makes things easier, but realized in that instant that it was precisely the point. He had to be the one to cross every gap because Miko, in herself, simply didn't know how, or, if she did, was too used to running and overshooting the finish line to be able to walk over the bridge. "-if that's what you want."
She grabbed her Coke, slurping through the straw, then leaned forward, elbows on the table. “So, yeah... uh- what’s the deal with you?"
That was actually kind of adorable, Miko more or less being at a loss for words because an exchange of this sort was completely outside of her experience.
"That's a pretty big question, really," he said, refusing to yield to the instinct to put just a little bit more distance between them in light of what had happened earlier today in the supply closet and, before that, the cave.
Miko had, in a sense, violated something intimate, and, that, it struck him only now, was one of the things that irked him, restrained him, more than anything else that Miko was or had done. She had no real idea what she'd intruded into or what it meant to him, to Arcee, to June when their first time together, as debauched as it might have seemed to someone just wandering in from the outside, was treated like it was just some tawdry and meaningless physical thing rather than something - something...
Jack was going to have to process where that thought regarding his Sparkmate/Wife and his mother was going at a future date because it was, perhaps, an even less maternal location than June under their bedsheets giving him a wake-up blowjob.
"I guess that my... my deal is that I really just want everyone to be safe," he offered tentatively.
"Uh, yeah, hero complex thing; anyone who's known you for, like, five minutes grokked that. Now who's being insincere she shot back, though not unkindly; it was just about as gentle a correction or prodding as he could imagine from the girl, offered without venom, flippancy or sarcasm.
"What, you want my life story over burgers?” he teased even though it only caused her to cock a brow at him.
"I mean, sure." Grabbing a napkin, she swiped it over her lips, then licked them as if unsatisfied. "You show me yours, I'll show you mine."
That took on a few layers of meaning, but maybe the truth was that Miko had more emotional intelligence that he'd assumed from her earlier, and perpetual, brash and brazen recklessness. Emotional connection with Arcee had been forged from a partnership, a crucible of blaster fire that melted them together; with his mom, it was because he'd never actually had to think to form the relationship. In some ways, the foundation, at least, was ready made, a prepackaged set of assumptions that were woven together, built upon, long before he'd ever really had the capacity to think.
With Miko, he had to choose to let her in, choose to share, choose to forgive that earlier slight against not just him but June and Arcee and all of them together in every permutation, through every role and relationship.
And, maybe, she had an inkling of that.
Or maybe that was all just his imagination.
That didn't change what he had to do, though.
Show me yours, and I'll show you mine.
What she had to show, the Japanese exchange student, six-thousand miles from home and family, was probably pretty obvious, which had no bearing on just what it meant for her to choose to give voice to it, to disclose it, willingly.
Jack’s smile bloomed, a faintly twisted thing but no less genuine because untwining joys and sorrows was a difficult thing; he took a quick bite from his burger to give himself just a few more precious seconds to mull, the weight of her offer pulling at memories he rarely voiced. He exhaled, leaning back, his voice quieter, more introspective.
“Then I guess that hero complex, uh, I guess… starts with my dad. He was gone before I could really know him. There are ... flashes, impressions, but nothing really more than that. Mom doesn’t talk about it much, but I know it wrecked her.” He paused, his eyes distant, tracing the edge of his plate, the mangled edges of his burger, the bun still bearing the faint impressions of his fingers and a hodgepodge of condiments oozing out around the half-eaten patty.
“It’s stupid, but… I used to feel abandoned, like he left me on purpose. Irrational, I know. He didn’t choose to die." No. His father made a chose to leave, even if, now that he was embroiled in a war, he could understand some of the reasons. Leaving wasn't abandoning. "But when you’re a kid, you don’t get that. See other kids with dads. You just feel the hole. Mom filled it-" clearly Miko was listening, and trying to actually hear him, because she didn't even interject with a gibe at that- "Gave me everything she could, but… sometimes I wonder what I missed, you know?”
Jack picked up his glass of water, the ice at the top melted into a faint slurry yet the condensation cool and stinging against his fingers, his voice low and thoughtful as he continued.
“You know,” he said, his eyes flicking to Miko’s, “a lot of my… complexes, I guess, probably come from my dad. Or, you know, him not being there. Mom did so much, but I always felt like I had to step up, take care of her, take care of… everyone.” He paused, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “It does makes me a stick in the mud sometimes, right? Always trying to fix things. Like I’m making up for him being gone.”
Miko’s dark eyes narrowed, arms crossing over her bosom.
“Oh, nice try, hero,” she said, her voice dripping with mock exasperation. “You’re not as clever as you think, you know. You’re just fishing, trying to get me to admit my parental deal, aren’t you? Like, ‘oh, Miko, your parents ditched you, so you’re diving headfirst into sex' - which, honestly, is how piv sex is supposed to work, so, deal with it.” She leaned forward, her grin turning sly, her finger wagging. “I see you, Darby. Therapist mode, activated.”
Jack’s laugh was genuine, his cheeks flushing slightly as he raised his hands in mock surrender. Not irreverence. Others might mistake that response for such. Defensiveness. A reprieve of humor, strained, offered and taken in the same moment.
“Busted,” he said, his voice warm, his eyes meeting hers with a mix of amusement and respect. “Okay, yeah, I was nudging a little. But come on, Miko, am I wrong?"
Miko’s smirk faded, her fingers fidgeting with her straw by flicking at it faintly as she glanced away, her boots stilling under the table.
“Maybe,” she muttered, her voice quieter, a rare crack in her armor. “My parents… they never saw me, Jack. Not really. So yeah, I leap in. Sex, fights, whatever. Because it’s like… if I’m loud enough... I don't know.” She looked up, her eyes defiant but still vulnerable, searching his face. “That doesn't mean that there's something wrong." With me. "You get that, right? You said it yourself. Your dad’s gone, so you’re Mr. Fix-It. I’m just… doing my thing.”
"I think that's all that any of us really can do," Jack admitted slowly as he watched Miko processing and tried to judge how best to balance an honest assessment of what was and wasn't really Miko's 'thing' while respecting the courage of that revelation. "The thing is, since we're friends - a team - maybe a family, a lot of us at least, that also means learning how to do things together and what we are together."
Miko raised her Coke, her smirk wide, her eyes glinting with mischief but a new ease.
“Fair enough, Darby,” she said, clinking her glass against his. “But I’m still gonna keep you on your toes. Gotta make sure you’re not too boring without me.”
Miko’s smirk softened, her gum-chewing slowing as she leaned forward, her dark eyes searching his face, her usual snark tempered by a rare kind of ephemeral sincerity, something that could snap at any moment.
“And, uh... I'm sorry about your dad. That’s rough,” she said, her voice even with a kind of dour sincerity that he'd not have expected from her. “I mean, I get the hole thing. Not the same, but…” She hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with a fry. “My bio parents in Japan… they’re not dead, just… checked out. Always busy, always ‘Miko, behave, Miko, don’t embarrass us.’ Sent me to the States for ‘opportunity,’ but really, I think they just..." No, Jack knew: leaving was not the same as abandoning. "My host parents here? Nice, but it’s like I’m a boarder, not family. Then I see your mom, June, and… damn, Jack, she’s all in for you. Like, cares so much it’s intense. I’m jealous as hell, you know?”
Jack’s chest tightened, his next words coming out gentle but firm.
“Miko, that’s not fair to you,” he said, his gaze steady, which seemed to cause her to squirm. “You deserve people who see you, really see you. Mom and I - I'm not going to say that we do because that takes a lot of time and work, but I know that we can. She worries about you already, wants you to be okay. Not just as my friend, or as something to me or to her, but as… you.”
Miko’s eyes glistened briefly, her grin shaky as she popped another fry, masking her vulnerability with a shrug.
“Yeah, well, June’s like… mom goals, minus the part where you’re, uh, banging her,” she said, her voice teasing but her gaze flicking away to survey nearby patrons with a hint of caution. “No offense, but that’s a side order I wouldn’t want with my parents caring. Though, gotta say…” She leaned forward, her smirk returning, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “If June was my bio mom? I’d totally hit that. Like, damn.”
Jack choked on a laugh at that lane change, the sound bursting out as he wiped his mouth, his cheeks reddening despite the fact that he had, only just yesterday, found himself in a threesome involving his own mother. Strange how context could affect a man
“Miko.” he chastised with a sigh, his voice a mix of amusement and exasperation, though his grin betrayed his ease with her boldness. “You’re incorrigible. She’d eat you alive, and not in the fun way.”
Miko cackled, tossing a fry at him, which he dodged with a smirk.
“You've got no idea what I'm into, Darby. Let me dream,” she said, her voice bright, her earlier vulnerability tucked away but not gone. “But for real… June’s got this way of making you feel like you matter. You’re lucky. My parents? They’d never know how?”
Jack’s smile softened, his hand reaching across the table to brush her wrist, and her palm turned over so that their fingers touched, though remained at the level of mere contact.
“You are enough, Miko,” he said, his voice quiet but certain. “You don’t need to be anyone else. Not for your parents, not for me, not for June. You’re a mess sometimes, but ... I don't think that any of us is any better. We're all just confused messes every now and then.”
Miko’s grin widened, her flush fading as she leaned back, her boots kicking lightly under the table.
“So, Darby,” she said, her eyes glinting with mischief, “now we’ve done the whole deep-and-meaningful thing, spilled our guts over burgers. Can we bang already, or you still gonna play hard to get?” Her tone was teasing, but her gaze held a flicker of genuine curiosity.
Jack froze mid-sip, his glass clinking against the table as he coughed, a laugh breaking through his surprise.
“Miko, seriously ?” he said, his voice a mix of exasperation and amusement, his hand rubbing the back of his neck, the stress gesture betraying his fluster. “You’re relentless. ”
Miko cackled, tossing a fry at him, which he swatted away with a smirk.
“Oh, come on, Jack,” she said, her voice bright, her boots kicking lightly under the table. “I’m just saying, we’re vibing, you’re all cute and insightful, and I’m, like, right here.” She gestured to herself, with focus on her compact bosom. “Besides, you can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it, even before this morning.”
“Thought about it? Sure, I’m human, not blind,” he said, his eyes twinkling with humor. “But thinking and doing are different, Miko. You’re not just a quick hookup.” He paused, his brow furrowing as the examined her for signs of sincerity, rather than teasing. “I meant what I said earlier. I care about you, but that-” he gestured between them, “-needs trust, but I promise you that once we sit down with June and Arcee, well, we can talk more. Deal?”
“Fine. Deal,” Miko said with a sigh and exaggerated eye-roll as if exasperated beyond belief.
And, through the rest of their dinner, she only played footsie once, and stopped... eventually, at Jack's death glare.
Baby steps, he supposed.
Backpack sagging heavily on one shoulder, Jack trudged in through the front door of his house. The living room greeted him with a dim glow from the flickering TV, set to some early evening T-rated drama show (never hospital dramas or comedies, though, because June despised those with a passion) casting light over the scattered medical journals on the coffee table. Mom liked to keep up-to-date, and that was something that caused a faint flicker of respect to reignite inside Jack's chest. June always, always strove, kind of like Arcee... wait, did he have a type?
Kind of scary, maternal, dominant women, take-charge and no-nonsense?
Also MILFS.
Dang, he did have a type.
Letting his backpack fall to the floor gently, Jack stretched his arms into the air, content to tuck that little realization into his back pocket and deal with it later, a healthy coping mechanism if you asked him. He breathed in slowly, settling himself, adjusting to the alien-familiar scent of home that was cut with the sharp aroma of balsamic vinegar, the traces of which he could see as brown-black residue on a plate that lay on the coffee table.
June emerged from the kitchen, her figure softened by a navy sweater, its fabric billowing slightly around her svelte form. Always kind; Jack ran a few degrees hotter than his mother (in terms of raw temperature but not in smoking hotness, in his opinion), so she got a little chilled in the evening when she set the AC to his comfort level. Her dark hair spilled in loose waves over her shoulders, framing gently smiling face, conjuring the incongruous memory of her maternal indulgence when he was a child. Her blue eyes zeroed in on Jack’s slumped posture, the tension etched in his jaw.
“Sweetheart,” she said, her voice warm, thick with sympathy as she crossed the oak floor, her bare feet silent as she padded to him. She reached out, her soft fingers grazing his arm, the touch eliciting a slight shiver as her eyes searched his. Her full lips curved into a gentle smile. “Rough day?”
Jack managed a tired nod, his voice low.
“Yeah. Long one. Miko and I… we had a talk at the diner. Got into discussing some heavy topics." The thought stuttered on its way to his tongue, but it had been years. Although would that have blunted the horror, if- "Dad. She’s working through things, and I’m trying to help, but…” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck, his calloused fingers kneading into flesh. A sharp stab of nerve pain lanced down from the base of his neck and arched out across his shoulder, which he rolled gently. “It’s a lot.”
June’s smile softened, her hand lingering on his arm, her warmth seeping through the fabric between them.
“Sounds like you’re being there for her, Jack. That’s you. Always stepping up.” Her tone held pride, but her eyes flickered with a deeper understanding because she was no different. Jack saw that now because he had the eyes to see, the experience that gave him the appropriate and necessary lens that a child could, or at least should, never have. “Come on, let’s talk in the garage. Arcee’s waiting, and we could all use some time together.” She guided him forward, her touch firm yet tender, leading him through the house, the faint creak of the floorboards underfoot blending with the TV’s low hum.
The garage door swung open, revealing Arcee’s towering blue-and-silver form sprawled along the floor, her sleek plating gleaming under the single overhead bulb like polished sapphire. Her optics glowed, their radiant light warming even further into a vibrant azure at the sight of Jack. Her faceplate quirked into a fond smirk. The space was a little cluttered with scattered tools and a worn beanbag chair nestled among bike parts; he'd lugged the thing in here just to lounge with Arcee. The air held a faintly sweet metallic and ozone savour that exuded from his wife.
“Hey, babe,” Arcee said, testing the nickname that, admittedly, did have a stirring effect, her voice a playful purr, laced with affection. “You look like you’ve been through a scrap."
Jack chuckled, the sound weary but genuine, as he kicked off his sneakers, their soles scuffing the concrete.
“Just a little one,” he said, sinking into the beanbag chair, beads crunching under his weight. To his surprise, as dainty and casual as could be, June settled into his lap, grasping hold of both his forearms to pull them around her waist as she wiggled back against his chest... and the curve of her pert butt against his crotch. Her dark hair tickled his neck as she curled against him, turning her head so that her full lips could graze his jaw in a fleeting, intimate brush. The still nascent thrill of their causal intimacy sent a shiver through him, his hands coming to rest on her hips, bone firm and stable under his fingertips. Arcee stretched out beside them, her massive frame propped on one elbow, her optics alight with a mix of bemusement and curiosity.
June’s fingers traced lazy circles on Jack’s chest.
“Arcee and I… we had quite a day ourselves,” she said, tone soft but wry, her blue eyes meeting Jack’s, then flicking to Arcee’s with a knowing glint. “Out in the desert, we got… close. Really close.” She laughed, the sound low, almost self-conscious. “We’re figuring out what we mean to each other, you know? Not like what we have with you, but… something real, I guess, and not ... expected.”
Arcee’s soft hum vibrated through the air as she leaned closer, her massive hand resting inches from Jack’s leg.
“Not to spring anything on you, but I hear that honesty is the best policy when it comes to relationships,” she said, her voice rich, sardonic but tender.
"I mean, it'd be pretty hypocritical for us not to practice what we've been preaching to Miko," Jack offered as a melange of rather lurid images and convoluted emotions ranging from a sliver of jealousy - asinine and quashed as quickly as it arose - to a strangely vicarious joy in learning that his mom and wife continued to prove that they were nothing whatsoever like the expected stereotypes.
Although his mother and her daughter-in-law did like to fuck with each other. Probably not the issue most men had in that relational regard.
Well, Arcee did say that Cybertronains didn't have any such conventions. Thank God and Primus for that.
“We’re exploring… us," Arcee continued once she got the go-ahead from Jack by way of a nod. "Just feeling it out. It’s different from you and me, Jack, or you and her, but I- we think that it’s… it's good too," she explained. “You’re our center, but we’re building something bigger - not just her and I, but, well, I think all of us, measuring and cutting different interlocking parts, seeing how they weld together again, but the most important thing that we discussed after- well, we had sex," Arcee said bluntly, even though it caused Jack to twitch as his mom snorted faintly in his arms while dragging her nails along his forearms and tracing the veins. "Was that we needed to talk with you about it, get your point of view and make sure you were comfortable with us… figuring us out.”
"And if you're not, Jack," June interjected before he could even think to reply, turning to look him in the eye, her gaze studiously serious. "That is entirely your right; you say the word, it's over, or if you want to talk it through, have us pull back and move more slowly - anything. We follow your lead on this."
Jack’s chest tightened, not with anxiety but a rush of multifaceted affection and gratitude, that his mother and ... wife or Sparkmate should sacrifice for him, as, of course, they always did. Oh, he did have a type. Ride-or-die self-immolating, forever considerate and sacrificial. How could anyone not love these women? He shifted under June’s weight, the beanbag crinkling, his hazel eyes flicking between them, earnest.
“I am good with it,” he said, his voice low, steady despite his fatigue. “I like what I have with both of you, even if we're all still trying to understand what that really is, and if you two want to explore different aspects of that... I-" What was he, really? A faint laugh bubbled up inside his throat as the answer struck him as perfectly obvious, crystalline. "I'm actually thrilled for you. You both deserve good things," he said, the arm that he had curled around June's waist tightening while his free hand reached out to press a palm against the warm, smooth metal of Arcee's extended fingertip. "I want you both to have that."
"I'm sensing a but, here," Arcee observed slowly.
"Not a but - an and," Jack clarified, leaning down to press his nose into his mother's hair and breathe in the familiar scent so that when he continued, his words were faintly muffled, jaw working against her scalp. "It’s just… talking with Miko got me thinking about Dad, how I don’t really remember him. And now, with the protoform…” He paused, his fingers tightening on June’s hips, the warmth of her curves anchoring him. “I’m going to be a father, and I’m terrified I won’t be there like he wasn’t. I keep thinking... about you - you three,” he clarified, "and, really, maybe it's a- a good thing if you have someone else- something else to help you, come what may."
"The only reason I got through ... It was because I had you, Jack," June said slowly, and it sent a pang through his heart. "Having someone to - to live for and with is... everything."
June’s hand cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing his stubble, her blue eyes softening with maternal love.
“But Jack,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion, “you’re already a wonderful father. You've fought for your wife, worked to provide for you baby, already. That’s more than some fathers ever do. You’re not your dad. He didn’t choose to leave, but you’re choosing to be here, for us, for the- the protoform.” Leaning up, June brushed her lips against his forehead in a gentle kiss.
Arcee’s massive finger pressed forward, gliding along his back, the heat of her touch intensifying so that it soaked into his shoulders, washed down his back like water. Her optics dimmed with empathy, maybe memory, her voice a warm hum.
“None of us is alone in this, Jack,” she said, her tone firm but gentle, her plating gleaming as she shifted closer. “We’re a team, and you're my Sparkmate.” Her optic winked, dilating like camera lenses to lend her an air of intense concentration, her gaze holding steady. “June and I… we’re not boxing ourselves in with ... labels, but we’re solid for you, for this family.”
June chuckled, her wryness returning, her curves shifting in Jack’s lap, sending a jolt of forbidden heat through him. “No labels,” she agreed, her voice teasing but warm, her dark hair spilling over his shoulder. “But roles, Jack… those matter to you, don’t they? Father, son, and- uh- 'sparkmate'…” She trailed off, her fingers lingering on his chest, her eyes searching his, inviting him to define himself.
“Yeah, roles matter,” he said, his voice raw but resolute. “I want to be a good father, a good… everything. For all of you.”
Arcee’s optics glowed brighter, her voice a blend of sardonic warmth and sincerity as she leaned closer, her massive hand brushing the beanbag’s edge, grazing Jack’s knee and June’s thigh with intimate gentleness.
“We’re a family, whatever shape that takes. But we do have to think about what’s coming.” Her optics flickered, her gaze locking on June, then Jack, deliberately including both of them. “The protoform’s gestation is almost complete, and that means that we have to think about ... possibilities for after it’s born. I wonder if it might be wise for us to at least consider staying at the base."
"The base," June asked, her brow quirking with confusion while Jack, already understanding the implication, just slumped and mulled. "Do you mean actually living there?"
"Staying," Arcee clarified carefully. "Maybe living. If that's what we choose. But the protoform, if it's anything like a human being, is going to need constant attention and care. Maybe not for eighteen years-"
"Good lord, I hope not," June interjected wryly as if just struck by the thought. "I don't want to be pushing sixty and helping to raise a teenager."
"Please," Jack offered, giving her a squeeze. "You could pass as twenty-five."
"Flatterer," June rebuffed, poking him in the side.
"Well, it's true," Arcee offered, giving June a quick once over. "But Jack's flirtations aside, the base? It’s secure, equipped for Cybertronian needs, and there’s space for us. Together, as a family.”
His mind flashed to the house’s memories, the creak of his childhood bed where he’d dreamed of his absent father; the last baby tooth that he'd lost, after he'd already stopped believing in the tooth fairy; the conversation with his mom the first time that he'd been turned down - really and honestly turned down - by a girl in ninth grade and it felt like the end of the world when it was just the end of one tiny phase of his childhood.
All that and a million, million more memories and moments.
“This house… it’s home. Mom’s life, my life. It’s here. Moving… I hadn’t even thought about it.”
His eyes focused on June's expression, searching her face as she shifted in his lap. Her eyes grew distant, pensive, her lips pressing together into a thin line as she weighed the idea.
“This place,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion, “it’s where I raised you, Jack. Where I rebuilt after your dad.” Her fingers paused on his chest, her gaze flickering to the garage’s shadows as if trying to find something there. “But the protoform… it’s not just human or Cybertronian. It needs us, all of us, in a place that can handle… whatever it becomes.” Her tone was soft, conflicted, and Jack realized that, in a way, her maternal instinct was at war with her attachment to their home. "Seeing both your wife and child a half hour a day in a garage is not a way to live."
"So you agree," Jack asked, "just like that?"
June shook her head. "Not just like that. I'm only saying that- that different lives, sometimes, need to be built in different places."
“The base has security. Decepticon-proof, mostly,” she said with an air of pragmatism, her tone level but warm. “It’s got tech to monitor the protoform’s growth, medical bays for any… quirks. And space, Jack, June. There's room for us to be together, not just squeezing into this garage. We’re not just raising a kid; I... I hope, like June said, that we’re building a life. Where else can we do that?”
Jack’s brow furrowed, his hazel eyes searching Arcee’s, then June’s, the emotional stakes sinking in. For her to admit that it was a life, one after the war or even lived through it...
“Safe makes sense,” he said, his voice raw, his hands steady on June’s hips, her warmth a lifeline. “But leaving this house. I know it’s not rational, but…” He trailed off.
"It doesn't have to be, but you've never made-" June sighed, rubbing her brow, "Well. Rarely made choices that aren't."
"It's not as if I'm asking you to uproot everything this instant," Arcee clarified. "I'm not even asking you to do that at all. I'm ... trying to be proactive, practical - raise possibilities."
June’s hand cupped passed along his upper arm, fingers to the grooves of bone under the cap of his shoulder, squeezing warmly.
“And it’s not about leaving... anything, Jack,” she said, her voice soft but firm, her blue eyes locking on his as she brightened, though whether that was her putting on a brave face or actual hope, he wasn't exactly sure. “It’s about building something new. For you, for us, for your child. This house holds memories, but we're the ones who carry them.”
“Together,” he murmured, his voice earnest, his hands now rising from June's hips to stroke or pet her sides light lightly, ghosting over the thin fabric of her shirt.
Arcee’s optics flickered, narrowing as she studied Jack’s hunched posture, his heavy eyes, the mussed strands of his dark hair catching the light. shirt
“Speaking of carrying things: you’re carrying too much, smooth operator,” she said, her voice a sultry purr, laced with static and sardonic warmth, her massive frame looming as she leaned closer, her plating reflecting the sharp glow. sharp
“From the look of you-" Jack leveled a mock glare at her- "Not that you ever look anything less than fabulous - you’re not in the best place to wrestle with it right now. You’re strung tight.” Her optic winked, a playful spark, and her tone softened. “So June, why don’t you take... our baby upstairs, get him comfortable? He needs to unwind before he snaps.”
Jack’s hazel eyes snapped to hers, a flicker of reluctance crossing his face, his calloused hand lingering on Arcee’s warm plating, the smooth metal a grounding anchor beneath his fingers.
“Arcee,” he said, his voice low, hesitant, raw with earnest gratitude, “I don’t want to leave you out. We haven’t had enough time together lately…” His fingers pressed harder against her plating, as if afraid to let go.
June shifted in his lap, her curves pressing closer, her fingers trailing his chest, the faint scratch of her nails through his shift, sparking a shiver of heat. Her blue eyes gleamed with an anticipatory flush, her full lips parting in a soft, knowing smile, the prospect of taking him upstairs igniting a quiet fire in her gaze. She leaned closer, her breath warm against his jaw as she nuzzled her nose against his cheek, sending a quick shiver down his spine that pooled hot, wet, and electric in his belly. An admittedly odd reaction to a cuddle from your mother, but in context it made a great deal of sense.
Her lips feathering against his skin, when she spoke, her voice was a low murmur. “You’re sweet to worry about your wife, Jack,” she said, her tone maternal yet laced with a sensual edge, “but Arcee’s right. You need this. Let me take care of you.”
Arcee’s chuckle was a low, static hum, her massive frame shifting, her optics twinkling with a strange but increasingly familiar mixture of mirth, naked interest, and care.
“Don’t fuss over me,” she said, her voice dripping with sardonic warmth, her massive finger brushing June’s thigh, then Jack’s knee, a gentle, intimate touch that left him shifting, flooded with a kind of quivering energy as if the pulsations from her spark chamber were already coursing through her plating right into him like a current.
“I’m content to listen from down here, let you two have your moment. I’ll just… soak it all in," she observed with nonchalance, as if discussing the impact of ambient music in an elevator. "Get a little worked up.” Her optic glint turned wicked, her voice dropping to a playful growl. “And tonight, I won’t even masturbate - just hold off, if I can manage it. Don’t drain him completely dry, June. He’ll need a little fuel in the tank when I take him out for a ride tomorrow.”
Well, Jack was fucked by the monsters of his own creation.
Now; in about five minutes, he assumed; tomorrow; and for the foreseeable and blessed future.
He laughed airily at both the antics of his - his sparkmate and mother-lover-something else to which he couldn't even put a name and, with them, that was alright for now. The sound was soft, weary but genuine, his hazel eyes softening as they met Arcee’s, his hand reaching up so that he could cup the tip of her finger with his palm, let the warmth of her sink into his flesh, lingering.
“You’re too good to me,” he said, his voice earnest, thick with gratitude. “I love you, Arcee. Tomorrow, it’s you and me, I promise.” His fingers squeezed her plating and then he released her, turning his attentions to the woman who was seated atop his lap. An anticipatory flush had ruddied her cheeks at her own apparent brazenness, perhaps the inherently bizarre sensation of their having just discussed the memories of his own father, and a childhood spent raising him here, in the very house in which, not a day earlier, she'd awoken him with a rather spectacular blowjob.
Banishing that still semi-awkward thought, June’s hand cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing his stubble and sending a scraping sound to grind up into his ears. Her touch was tender yet despite the gentle motion, he couldn't help but feel a shiver of excitement race through him, pooling in his belly.
"Still can't quite get over how ... adult you are, sweetheart,” she murmured, her voice a sultry blend of maternal care and desire, her curves shifting as she rose, pulling him gently to his feet. “But you'll always be my baby, so let’s get you relaxed. Let mommy spoil you a little bit, for old time's sake.”
Already, heat was starting to pool inside of Jack's cock, which swelled up inside of his jeans, nearly half hard merely from the sensual promise of June's faintly quirked lips that only grew more evident as she wiggled against him, coquettishly testing his rather obvious reaction to, well, a gorgeous MILF's soft butt pressing into his cock.
Arcee’s optics flickered in a wink, her massive frame settling back against the garage floor as she watched them rise, June rolling off of him, leaving him surprisingly bereft of her warmth, taking Jack by the hand and helping him to his feet.
“Take care of our boy, June,” she called, her voice warm, a hint of anticipation threading through her tone. “I’ll be here, listening… and holding off, for now.”
Be still his beating heart.
June led him from the garage, the oak floorboards shifting softly under their steps, the flickering TV casting jagged shadows across scattered medical journals on the coffee table. Jack’s lean frame sagged with exhaustion despite the renewed surge of energy that came with the soft press of his mother's hand in his own.
June guided him to the worn couch, its leather creaking as he sank into it, his lean thighs spreading slightly, his hands resting awkwardly on his knees. In a quick, sweeping motion, she grasped the edge of her sweater and rolled it up her body, accidentally tugging up her billowy tee shirt to expose her belly, the faint impression of abs visible through a thin layer of paunch lined with stretch marks from age and, good god, him. To shuck the fluffy material entirety, she finished by plucking the sleeves and elastic cuffs off her wrists to toss the thicker garment off to the side of the living room. Clad only in that thin and slightly tatty shirt, she offered him a rather stunning if faintly abashed smile in response to the awestruck and wide-eyed stare he was clearly favouring her with.
With her standing before him, the curve of her bosom inches away from his slightly awestruck eyes, she leaned into his space to begin working him over. A hint of body wash and clean skin, a kind of scent that he could nearly taste as he drew in a hissed breath, only intensified the coiling tension in his stomach, and as her hands trailed down his shoulders, the curves of tense muscle flinching when her shockingly strong thumbs rolled over a few knots, he loosed a groan that was half pain and all swelling arousal.
The sight of her compact bosom - and the thought had has fingers aching to cup and roll her breasts - peaking out from under her shirt sent a jolt of pain through his cock as it swelled up to the point that his pants were becoming distinctly uncomfortable.
Working him loose in a preliminary massage, she moved in to kiss the crown of his head and breathe in his scent- it was kind of odd to think that a woman found a man's scent as sexy as he did hers and Arcee, but maybe that was the case. Ropes and bands of thick tension clenched up under her skilled fingers and then were kneaded out, and he groaned at the sudden release, nearly orgasmic as his head lolled backwards.
Itching hands clenched tightly to the armrests of his chair because he got the clear impression from her no-nonsense expression, as if she knew just what he was thinking - which happened to be you really should fuck your mother and nothing more or less than that - that he was not yet to be an active participant in this. Mommy was having her fun.
And that became even clearer when she she leaned in, her full lips brushing his ear.
“Relax, sweetheart,” she murmured, her voice a soothing balm, maternal yet edged with desire; her hand rose to trace the hollow of his throat, fingers to the edge of his collar. “Mommy’s got you.”
Her words sent a shiver through him, which she clearly felt through her palms if the more predatory pull of her lips was any indication. There was a certain fixation that had him stalling out, even as he felt a faint sticky pooling at the tip of his throbbing cock, the stinging sensation intensifying. Fuck. Had the radiation from Arcee's spark chamber turned him into a mutant or something? There was no way that he could ache for June this intensely, feel so backed up like he'd been grappling with blue balls and no nut November in chastity or something, for thirty days straight, when he'd come just this morning.
Her eyes were wide and mirthful, almost leaving him awash in a sticky, honeyed sensation even as he mourned the loss of contact, the gentle, familiar heat of her body against his as she withdrew. A faint sashay of her hips left him almost breathless, and she was far from oblivious to his rather pained state, glancing down at the thick imprint of his cock with a smirk. To make something of a show of herself, almost ravenous, she teased the hem of her shirt, still in motion, and then cupped her palms to her sides to drag her hands up to her bosom, emphasizing her svelte figure.
There was a kind of deliberate, self-assured grace to her while she toyed with him, absent even the faintest touch, leaving him rooted in place. Something captivating that was beyond the boundaries of a teenager's understanding, however experienced he might be, because how could even a gorgeous woman like June have that kind of effortless confidence?
And that shamelessness!
Jack’s hazel eyes darted to the open windows, diaphanous curtains fluttering in the faint evening breeze, warm and fragrant with the cooling herbaceous scent of plants cut with exhaust, the gauzy fabric only just concealing the outside world from clear view. Every shi promised, threatened, exposure, making his stomach twist. Despite the almost bruised-aching arousal, the tip of his cock stinging and leaking, probably making a mess of his boxers already so that shocks of pleasure lanced down to his compressed balls, he shifted uncomfortably, his voice low, hesitant.
“Uh, mom, do you want to take this to the bedroom?" he asked like he was posing a question in class, fearing that he might sound like a dullard, which, given the amount of blood currently causing his so-called monster cock to swell up, was entirely possible. Not that he'd know. June merely stretched, arms above her head, languid like a cat, in a gesture that dragged her shirt taut across her compact bosom, body sinuous and graceful.
While he had intended to extend his protestations, his dry mouth stumbled over the words, because with the curving of her body, window curtains were not exactly the subject of his attentions at the moment.
June’s laugh was sultry, her blue eyes smoldering as she closed the distance. Nipples hard through the fabric, her shirt stretched taut over her subtle curves. She leaned down, her loose hair spilling over her shoulders and framing her face. As she settled into place before him, tilting his chin upwards with a soft brush of her fingers, she darted forward almost coquettishly and kissed him full on the lips, a hungry press of her mouth. At his gasp, her tongue teased past his defenses, brushing his briefly, intensifying the a fire in his groin. All he could do was white-knuckle the arms of his chair as she ravished his mouth.
Just as he marshalled the ability to begin to reciprocate, tongue probing at hers with a few tentative strokes, June again frustrated his efforts.
Pulling back, she gulped down a breath of air, panting.
Creases of mirth bloomed at the corners of her grinning lips, which disappeared when she leaned in close and whispered into his ear, her breath hot, her voice a placating hum, “Baby, we have to start somewhere, since I’m going to fuck you in every single room in this house.”
Well, the predatory edge to her boast and the keen fixation of her eyes that made Jack feel like a piece of meat about to be savaged and, in all honesty, he loved it, his cock throbbing painfully, his pulse racing, his dry mouth parting in awe.
June straightened, her self-confident gait a sensual dance as she began her strip-tease, her blue eyes locked on his, smoldering. Her fingers tugged at her shirt, peeling it slowly over her head, revealing a lacy black bra that cupped her compact breasts, the fabric straining against the peaks of her hardened nipples, their outlines sharp and teasing. Her dark hair tumbled free, cascading over her shoulders as she tossed the shirt aside, her toned arms flexing with effortless grace.
Her jeans followed, unbuttoned with deliberate slowness, sliding down her toned thighs to pool at her ankles, exposing lacy panties that clung to the curve of her hips, the faint outline of her labia visible through the fabric, an impression that became all the more mouthwatering as she ran her hands back up the inside of her thighs, pausing at the crux to drag the pad of her thumb over the thin fabric, stretching it taut over the edges of her folds. Already, she was just faintly wet, a darker patch of moisture starting to bloom.
Even as Jack lost himself to that vision, so visceral and tempting that he could almost taste her on the air, he was aware of the way that her body began to sway and undulate faintly, each sinuous motion exuding confidence, her breasts rolling slightly with every step, her nipples straining against the lace as she sauntered towards him. Her scent caused his brain to short-circuit because the faintly medicinal odour, lavender perfume, and skin was so starkly maternal after years of her caring for him in this very house, and yet, now, it took on a confused eroticism thanks to the flashing memories of their previous experiences together and the lurid display that his mother was performing for him at this very moment.
Jack’s stunned arousal consumed him, his dry mouth gaping, his hazel eyes wide as they traced her body, her full breasts, the curve of her waist, the toned thighs that begged to be touched and that, frankly, he wanted wrapped around his head, drawing him face-first into her alluring womanhood and pinning him there because he absolutely had a thing for dominant women.
“Mom,” he managed, his voice hoarse, a weak attempt at humor while June tugged at the straps of her panties, teasing the material back and forth and gazing at him with smoky, hooded eyes, “this… this isn’t helping me unwind.”
June’s laugh was a teasing purr, her blue eyes glinting with lurid seduction as she stepped closer, her hips swaying, her lacy bra and panties a stark contrast to the soft, flushed skin that ran along her thighs and belly.
“Just wait, sweetheart,” she said, her tone a strange amalgamation of maternal care and an almost obscene kind of promise. Full lips curving into a wicked smile. She leaned over him, her breasts brushing his chest.
“Mommy will take care of everything,” June purred, her voice a nearly inflaming blend of maternal warmth and raw, seductive need. Drawn close to him, enough for the heat from her body to radiate into his chest, her full lips grazed his as she spoke, her tongue flicking out to taste his lower lip. Her hands roamed his chest, nails scratching through his shirt, before she spread them out to his shoulders, massaging again, while leaning into him, her voluptuous curves molding to his lean frame.
Every undulation of her figure sent her breasts rolling, their softness grinding against his heaving chest, the peaks of her nipples straining against the lace that he could see out of the bottom of his eyes. While he would never trade Arcee for anything in this world, the sensation and sight of her compact bosom flush to him, soft and yielding as they dragged up and down, was unique. Thrilling because there was nothing in his experience with his wife that was comparable to having a human-sized lover. Not better or worse, but different. As she settled onto his knee, he was almost shocked by the heat and wetness of her. Maybe both of them were affected by that weird radiation from Arcee's spark, perhaps through the walls if she was half-as turned on as he was at the moment, because there was no way that a minute of stripping should have a woman this wet.
Setting her pussy against his knee, almost coaxing him to grind it into her cunt, her slick panties soaked his jeans. The denim clinging to his thick cock, the pressure so intense it bordered on pain, his balls aching with need, his entire body trembling with the effort to stay still. Everything about his mother stoked a searing, almost unbearable fire, each roll of her hips sending jolts through his core that coiled and folded up on itself up to the point that he thought he might burst from the delicious torment.
“Mom… please,” Jack babbled, his voice hoarse, desperate, his hazel eyes pleading as he fought the urge to hump against her slick cunt, his hands gripping the couch tighter, leather creaking under his fingers. “It’s… too much, I can’t- please, let me come, I’m trying to be good, I-”
June’s laugh metamorphosed into a sultry growl, her blue eyes glinting with lurid delight as she leaned closer, her full lips brushing his ear, her dark hair tickling his cheek.
“Oh, sweetheart, you’re being so good for Mommy,” she murmured, her voice dripping with seduction, her hips slowing their grind, edging him mercilessly, keeping him teetering on the brink. “But you’re too loud, baby. Let’s keep you nice and quiet.”
With a wicked smile, she hooked her fingers into her lacy panties, sliding them down her toned thighs to expose the hairless expanse of her pubic mound and labia, a few faint sticky threads of her arousal clinging to the glistening fabric for an instant before snapping as she drew them down her thighs, never breaking eye-contact with him. Fuck, that might have been the best-worst thing - just how utterly unabashed and shameless she was with him. The scent of her slick cunt thick and intoxicating. She balled the damp panties in her hand, and before Jack could react, she shoved them into his mouth, the wet lace pressing against his tongue, the taste of her arousal flooding his senses a musky, sweet savor that made his eyes widen in shock and surprised enjoyment.
Jack’s stifled groan buzzed against the damp fabric of June’s panties, the salty, acrid savor and incongruously dry texture of the fabric in his mouth sending a surge of heat through his veins, pulse ratcheting upwards as molten lava coursed through him, searing him from the inside out. His lean frame quivered, fingers twitching against the leather couch. June pressed closer, lush curves now flush against him; her lips parted in a soft moan as she resumed her languid grind, her bare, slick heat gliding against his jeans, drenching him further, their bodies locked in a fluid rhythm.
“That’s it, baby,” she purred, her fingers brushing his jaw, holding him in thrall even as she drew his gaze to the thin curtains that were the only barrier between them and exposure, an entire world of eyes tearing into them. “Mommy’s got you, right here. What would the neighbours think if they looked in, saw me right now? Grinding myself on a young stud's dick?”
The word sent a jolt through him, his breath hitching at the primal and visceral suggestion of being reduced to an animal, a stud horse who lived to breed Arcee, his mother, Miko, any willing girl they offered to him; it was a sick instinctual thought mingled with the incoherent slurry of pleasure and pain that radiated down into his balls as June frotted against him, crushing his constrained cock, but the allure in a kind of chauvinistic sense couldn't be denied.
A fact which his mother clearly recognized.
"Ooh, you like that, Stud?" she asked, her gyrations slowing as she set her hands to his shoulders, bracing herself so that she could change the angle of her body yet again to lean in for a quick kiss to his forehead, lips soft and moist, the motion slow like she was trying to reward him for the idea that she could veritably see racing through his brain just from the shift in his breathing, the micro-expressions of his face, and the intensifying twitches of his cock.
Pulling back, she hissed almost in praise, "Like the idea of breeding your mommy with that fat horse cock?"
Oh, Jesus Christ.
As debauched, impossible, and dangerous as it was, some depraved part of him that caused him to snap, begin, at last, to hunch his hips upwards against her ass, absolutely got off on the idea of seeing his mother's belly swelling up with his own child. The sodden panties in his mouth, drool now spilling out down his lip and chin, were almost choking him, satiny fabric preventing him from getting enough air so that the entire world hazed, condensing down to raw need and the sight of his mother's lurid grin. He needed more - the real taste of her, directly; air to whine and beg because he needed her more than life itself. Gulped down greedily, huffing breaths were sucked down into his lungs as the thought percolated,
A fumbling motion ripped the panties from his mouth so that he could suck wind like he'd just completed a marathon, tongue and jaw working out the tension for just a moment before a particularly devious and forceful roll of June's hips again stole his breath away.
Jack's body arched forward to set his nose to the crux of June's neck, nuzzling and planting suckling kisses to the hollow of her throat, yet still she teased him, keeping him teetering on the edge of release with the rhythmic motions of her ass, threatening to force him to make an utter mess of his own boxers and jeans.
June’s full lips curled into a sly, wicked grin, her blue eyes glinting with hunger as she leaned in, breath hot against his ear, her fingers grazing his zipper with maddening patience.
“Time for Mommy to see her boy,” she murmured, her voice a heady mix of maternal warmth and raw seduction, nails lightly scraping as she slid off his lap to kneel before him. Helping him to heft his butt off the sticky cushion and unbutton his jeans, she gripped the waistband and tugged his pants down his lean thighs, letting the denim crumple at his ankles. Springing upwards as soon as the constricting fabric was removed, his cock leapt upwards, partway jutting towards the ceiling.
Creating a tented outline and nearly threatening to burst, his boxers strained against his aching erection, damp with precum, and June nuzzled the bulge, her warm breath seeping through the cotton, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure through him.
“Oh, sweetheart,” she cooed, her tongue darting out to taste the fabric, “so eager for me, aren’t you? My big, strong stud.” Her words dripped with dark promise, lips grazing his length, his balls tight with need as he set his palm to the back of his mother's head, fingers carding through her messy hair. How he wanted to just fist his hand into the locks, grind her down against his cock, force her to take every inch into her throat balls-deep and pay her back for being - being such a teasing little slut, and, with a woman his size - smaller, in fact - he could actually do it. That was an added layer of thrill.
Only the fact that it was his own mother, grinning up at him in pleasure and praise with her cheek to his thigh, eyes hooded as the flicked back and forth between his cock and face, restrained that impulse.
With a slow, deliberate tug of his boxers, tucking the waistband under his balls, June freed his erection, his thick length springing free, veins stark, the tip slick with precum. She let out a soft gasp, her blue eyes gleaming with greedy delight, fingers curling around his twitching, leaking shaft, stroking once, twice, her touch featherlight yet excruciating.
“Look at this,” she murmured, voice low and sultry, “so ready for Mommy.”
"Oh, Jesus," Jack whined low in the back of his throat, gazing down at his mother, eyes locked as she nuzzled soft lips along the base of his cock, hardly seeming to care about the coarse pubic hair that scraped along her chin.
"Still such a mouth on you, baby," she mock chastised, cradling his cock in her palm and then guiding the tip to her lips for a faint, open-mouthed kiss and flick of her tongue against the glans, dipping into the urethra to swipe up a dollop of precum, that had Jack, body arching again at the nerve-frying bliss of the motion, almost - almost grabbing hold of his own teasing - teasing witch of a mother and face-fucking her outright because he was dying, here. "You haven't even gotten your cock back in mommy's pussy, where it belongs."
Grasping hold of his knees and rising with just a parting nuzzle of his thigh, she rose.
"Let's fix that, right, baby?" She straddled him again, the slick heat of her bare folds, sodden and glistening in the faint light, brushing his cock tip, a tormenting whisper of contact. One hand curled around his cock, the other set to his shoulder so that she could brace her weight against him, her fingers guided him to her folds, eliciting a gasp. Wet heat smeared along his glans, pushing back his foreskin as she dragged his cockhead along the spread seam of her cunt, labia glistening, enthralling as she mimed penetration, letting him sink a bare half-inch into the grasping inferno of her womanhood.
"Feel that, Baby?" she asked, still holding him tight in that reverse grip, teasing him over her folds. "How wet you've made your mommy? Such a naughty boy," she whispered in praise as she lowered herself, her tight warmth enveloping him inch by agonizing inch, her inner muscles gripping him with deliberate precision, a cascade of muscles rippling.
The sensation was a searing blaze, his length pulsing inside her, her slick walls clenching like a vice, each movement pure ecstasy that sank him slightly deeper inside of her, each roll and agonizing withdrawal letting her stretch to accommodate him. June’s hips rolled with a slow rhythm that had Jack hypnotised, wound up in the grip of her; wound up in her completely, the entire experience of his mother - the sight of her mouth parted slightly, the flush of her cheeks; the coos and whispered babble that spilled from her mouth, the bliss, not just due to him but for him like his own pleasure was enough for her to enjoy in itself, as she sank down inch by inch until she was settled right where she belonged.
With her son's balls pressed up against her pussy lips, throbbing as his perineum clenched up and glistening with the copious stream of juices that were leaking out from her womanhood.
"God, Jack," she breathed, almost as if pained, looking up at him with something akin to surprise across her pinched features. "Baby, are you even bigger than the last time?"
Nearly brushing his chest, her still-pert breasts swayed, the fabric of her bra taut, nipples sharp against it. Apparently, it was becoming moderately uncomfortable; with a quick and effortless motion that was honestly as stunning as her riding his cock, she twisted her arms behind her back to unhook her bra and slide it over her arms before tossing it haphazardly off onto the floor, leaving herself utterly bare to his ravenous gaze.
Now sagging slightly, her bosom hung lower absent the tight fabric. Flushed skin spread down the center of her chest, the supple breasts from which he had nursed as a baby, and that he would suckle happily for years to come as a lover, devoted to his mother's pleasure, weren't nearly as shapely as Miko's, or as voluptuous - for obvious reasons -as Arcee's, but there was a queer instinctual allure inherent to June's nature figure: one part instinctual memory that this body in its entirety meant safety, softness, care, and love, and another that this was a mother's figure - his mother's figure, one shaped by hardship and loss and the devotion that had brought and sustained a child in this world.
Bewitching didn't begin to capture his dry-mouthed stupor.
With a huff, though the flush of her chest was matched by the one that was blooming on her cheeks at his rapt attentions, June set to work shaking him out of it.
With each scintillant gyration against him, every grinding motion that carded her lips and the clenching tight tunnel of her pussy along his length, dark hair spilled over flushed cheeks, shaking and framing her face. Her blue eyes burned with desire, locked on his, setting him alight, the couch creaking in time with their slow movements.
“That’s it, baby,” she moaned, voice breathless, her lips grazing his, tongue flicking out for a fleeting, heated kiss, their gasps blending. Her hips rocked forwards and backwards, only just resettling him inside of her womanhood in an infuriating tease that had him almost choking into her kiss at the rhythmic pressure and barest suggestion of actual motion. When she pulled back slightly, her lips fluttered against his as she spoke, breathy - needy yet innocuous and even as if soothing a child.
“That's the place you came from,” she purred to goad him, and hell if it wasn't succeeding brilliantly because already he had to tamp down on the swelling pressure that threatened to explode inside of him, fighting a losing battle against the raw and desperate need, the perfect tightness of her vaginal muscles contracting, milking him, with slow, deliberate squeezes of her tunnel, each clench sending waves of pleasure through his almost tortured body, wracked with shivers,
Finally moving, Jack’s hands gripped her waist, his fingers digging into her soft flesh, his lean frame trembling as he fought to restrain himself, match her rhythm rather than losing himself utterly. Salt from her skin still tingled on his tongue and every shuddering breath with suffused with her, the scent filling him up halfway as every breath was abortive, a tremulous gasp. Pleasure whelmed him at the queerly gentle rocking motion of his mother on his lap, his hands rising up to her back, splaying out over the clenched muscles, tense with her undulating movements, just letting her set the easy pace.
It was then, flicking in through the haze that had blanketed his brain and fuzzed the edges of his swimming vision, gaze locked onto June's face - the curling of her lip at the edge, half blissful and half almost sardonic; the wide open eyes that were half-glazed with pleasure but refused to flutter closed because they were still focused on him, on judging his reactions to each clap of her rear against his lap, every shudder and groan she could tug out of him; the soft and easy swipes of her palms over his shoulders and upper arms, and a million other minute things - that he realized.
This wasn't just fucking, he realized.
His hazel eyes focused, locked on hers, narrowing.
The sheer and unabashed and unashamed love in her gaze.
He was making love to her- his mom.
Absent either hesitation or ardour, slipping into comfortable movement like a boat rocking at sea, gentling them to sleep with languid ease, all of their attentions narrowing down to each other, giving, coaxing, holding, pouring out, caressing every inch of exposed flesh with a kind of reverence that Jack couldn't have imagined in this way but that was definitional of his mother in their most intimate moments when all that they had had was touch and one another...
Pleasuring, questing after that and not selfish pleasure in itself and for itself, but for the sake of another...
Jack and his mother made love for the first time.
“Mom,” he gasped, his voice raw, his lips brushing hers, “I love you… so much. You’re-” His words were a breathless confession, his hands sliding to her hips, guiding her slow, sensual ride, the pleasure so intense it felt like a knife’s edge, his cock pulsing inside her tight, slick heat.
June’s laugh was a sultry purr, her blue eyes glinting with greedy delight as she leaned closer, her perky breasts pressing against his chest.
“Oh, baby,” she whispered, her lips locking with his, her tongue tangling in a deep, hungry kiss that dispelled that infinite moment that had drawn out like a taffy-pull and sending them back into a feral grind, his mother humping into his cock with increased fervency and her moans vibrating against his mouth. “Your mommy's so greedy, taking my baby fat cock all for myself. Miko would be so jealous, watching us. Touching herself. Her tight little body begging for this fat cock that belongs to mommy. And Arcee- fuck, she’s listening right now, out in the garage.”
Her voice dropped to a growl, her pussy clenching tighter, milking him harder.
“Your wife’s probably squirming, her pussy dripping, trying so hard not to touch herself while we make love right here, where anyone could see.” Her words sent a fresh wave of pleasure through him, the image of Arcee’s glowing optics, her pained frustration amplifying with each word that hissed out from his mother's lips, taunting them both as she rode him slowly.
Fuck, they'd created a demon by reintroducing his mom to sex.
“God, Mom,” Jack groaned, his voice breaking, his hands gripping her hips tighter, her voluptuous curves molding to his lean frame, her sweat-slicked skin hot against his. “You’re… I can’t—” His words dissolved into a whimper when her mouth again found his, his tongue tangling with hers, their kisses desperate, breathless, the couch creaking louder as she rode him, her pussy muscles working his cock with slow.
“That’s my good boy,” she cooed, her hips rolling slower, milking his cock with agonizing care. “Let's make it harder for your wife.” She leaned in, her breath hot and moist against the shell of his ear and lips grazing his skin as she spoke, tone sultry and deep. "Moan for your mommy."
There was little that he could do to restrain exactly that, much to June's evident delight as she pulled back, grinning down at him with a kind of imperious allure.
Jack’s moan was raw, desperate, his hands carding down his mother's back and finding purchase on the divots at the base of spine. Sinuous and deceptively powerful with its subtle musculature, June's figure almost writhed over him; leaving him almost bereft, June cupped her own breasts and began to work them over, thumbs rolling over her pale pink areola. Peaked nipples deformed under a series of enthralling pinches and swirls that left them swollen and purplish red in the dim light.
“Mom… please,” he gasped, his voice trembling. “I’m yours… always yours,” he whispered.
June’s hips rolled faster, her pussy clenching tighter, milking his cock with relentless precision, her voluptuous curves swaying, her sweat-slicked skin glistening. .
“God, Mom, I’m—fuck, I’m gonna—” Jack’s voice broke, a desperate plea as his belly tightened, a molten coil of heat spiraling through him.
“That’s it, my good boy,” June purred, her voice a sultry command, her lips brushing his ear, her breath hot and teasing as her pussy clenched harder, milking his cock with a slow, torturous squeeze. “Come for Mommy, Jack.”
Her hips ground down, her slick walls dragging against his shaft, the friction searing, as she pushed up the pace of their lovemaking, the rolls of June's hips intensifying without warning so that Jack had no time to react or brace himself against her assault. They hurled themselves at one another, the clap of June's ass as it slapped against his thighs with ever violent hunch of her hips ringing through the room.
The acceleration pushed him past the point of no return. Jack’s climax erupted, a scalding torrent of semen surging from his cock, his balls contracting with each powerful spurt, the heat blazing through his shaft as it flooded June’s pussy. The rush of thick seed poured into her, the volume overwhelming, her womanhood clenching around him, unable to contain the deluge.
His seed gushed out in hot, sloppy waves, spilling from her stretched lips, coating her inner thighs in glistening rivulets that dripped onto the couch, pooling beneath them in a slick, obscene mess. The sensation was electric, his spine arching with the white-hot jolt searing through his nerves. His belly quivered, flush against hers, as each pulse wracked his body, the heat of his release burning against her pulsing walls.
June’s orgasm came almost in tandem, her pussy spasming wildly around Jack’s cock, her slick walls milking every drop as she threw her head back, a primal moan tearing from her throat. Her voluptuous body shuddered, her thighs trembling as if her legs were about to give outshimmering as her climax rippled through her. Her pussy clenched tighter, drawing out Jack’s orgasm, the sticky heat of their combined fluids flooding her core, spilling out in a torrent that soaked her thighs and his groin. Wet squelching sounds filed the air with the increasingly torpid thrusts and rolls.
“Oh, Jack, my perfect boy,” June moaned, her voice thick with praise, her lips brushing his as she rode the waves of her climax, her hips grinding slower, savoring the flood of his seed.
Jack’s body trembled, his breaths heaving, his spine still tingling with the aftershocks of his release, his balls aching from the intensity of emptying into her. His cock throbbed inside her sticky tunnel, each pulse sending another weak spurt, the slick mess of their fluids coating his shaft, her lips, their thighs.
“Mom… fuck,” he gasped, his voice hoarse, as their motions stilled and settled to a complete stop.
June’s gasps softened into breathy moans, her full lips parting as she leaned down, her dark hair fanning across Jack’s shoulder.
“Oh, baby,” she cooed, her voice a sultry blend of warmth and seduction, her manicured fingers stroking his lean jaw, grazing his stubble. “You were so good to Mommy, coming so hard, filling me up like that.” Her pussy clenched around his softening cock, milking the last drops, her hips giving a slow, teasing roll that drew a sharp gasp from him. “I adore creampies, sweetheart,” she purred, her lips brushing his ear, her tone shameless, a wicked glint in her eyes. “And I can’t wait for you to leave one in my ass - nice and deep.”
“Mom,” he rasped, his voice raw, while the lurid image that raced through his mind at the suggestion caused his cock to twitch despite his being completely spent. To hold back some incoherent whining or babble because he was at his wits' end, his lips brushing hers in a tender, breathless kiss that lingered for long minutes as they simple held each other and basked in the disconcertingly comfortable afterglow. June was soft and pliant in his grip, slumped against him with a kind of casual laziness that he could see himself savoring for years to come.
When they finally parted, though June remained seated on his lap, knees braced to the side of his thighs, she loosed a slow sigh, passing her tongue over her plump pink lips, before setting her head to his shoulder. The slowing rush of air from her nostrils washed over his collarbone, slightly chill against the lather of sweat that had built up as they just sat and breathed together for yet another timeless moment.
Jack broke through the white noise, clutching on to his mother, hands tight around her waist as a thousand memories of this house and his mother within it bubbled up and cascaded over his mind.
“You’re… incredible," he admitted, almost awed as new experiences slotted into the shifting tableau that had made up his mother, his home, and his life here. "I didn’t know you could be… like this.”
“My sweet boy,” she whispered, lips fluttering against the side of his neck, stroking his short hair, her touch gentle, maternal. Gooseflesh prickled along his throat alongside the tinkle of gentle pleasure that raced down all the way into his warming upper chest. “You make me feel so alive, Jack. Not just as your mom, but… as me, all of me. With Arcee, with you, I’m discovering parts of myself I never knew, and I want it all.”
A beat of awkward silence followed, not because Jack was uncomfortable with that - somehow, it only enlivend him - but because he hadn't the words to respond; how could you know the way to respond to the person who gave you life a thousand times over, in the one moment of birth and the myriad gifts that made a life, thanking you for the same thing? For reciprocating?
Instead of speaking, Jack cradled June in his arms, her form pressed against his lean chest, sweat-slicked skin to sweat-slick skin with warmth building between them, gradually displacing the heat. The couch’s leather creaked faintly as he stood, setting June to her slightly unsteady feet for a moment so that he could haphazardly tug up his jeans, the denim still faintly damp from their love-making. Almost like she was sagging, dropping unconscious right here, which was understandable given the exertions of the day, June’s eyes fluttered, heavy with the afterglow, her full lips curving into a drowsy smile as she nestled closer.
That only allowed him to heft her up again, her figure hardly feather-light even if she was a naturally compact and slender woman who took good care of herself, but still more than manageable; his thighs only quivered for a moment as he adjusted to the additional weight and found the proper way to balance her form. Her yoking her arms around his neck, just stabilizing rather than clinging or expressing the slightest uncertainty, did help quite a bit.
"What's say we get you to bed, mom?" he asked while already making his way towards the stairs.
“Such a gentleman,” she murmured, her voice a soft blend of maternal warmth and lingering desire, her blunted fingernailss grazing his collarbone. Jack’s hazel eyes softened, his calloused hands steady under her thighs and back, carrying her with care through the house and, in a weirdly domestic gesture, up the stairs to the bathroom that they'd shared last night, seemingly a lifetime ago already.
In the bathroom, the fluorescent light buzzed softly as Jack set June's butt on the counter, her curves settling against the cool surface. He grabbed a washcloth, warming and wetting it under the tap. When he returned to her, June giving him a soft if cockeyed expression, he set the cloth to her inner thigh, completely functional even if he was staring at the crux, eyes on the faint trail of drying semen that leaked out of her folds and crusted on her upper legs.
His movements slow and gentle, he wiped the sweat and cum from her, her skin soft under the occasional brush of his fingers. There was no thrill in this, even though an utterly naked and gorgeous woman was right before him. As he worked, June stroked his short hair, carding her fingernails along his scalp in the same way that he could remember from childhood when he was utterly unashamed of sitting on his mother's lap, or setting his head there - not too grown up to be loved.
Perhaps growing up involved a return to childishness, setting aside the painful lessons learnt so you could burrow yourself back into that feeling, the openness of love without reserve.
Her voice was a sleepy whisper. “You’re too good to me, Jack.”
He smiled, his lips brushing her forehead, their bodies entwined in the small, tiled space. “Just taking care of you, Mom,” he said as if it was nothing; there was something precious, Jack realized, in the casual intimacies, gestures, becoming commonplace, from this to ... buffing Arcee's chassis.
Once he had cleaned her sufficiently, and given himself a similar treatment, they moved to her bedroom, the soft sheets welcoming as he tucked June in; she curled against him, warm, soft, and human, her bare breasts pressing against his chest. One thigh casually slide over his own, settling his flaccid cock against the warm folds between her legs in a gesture that was intimate but, somehow, not entirely sexual because they were merely entwined. Bodies rocked together not in quest for pleasure or release, but with the slow and gentle motion of a tide, rocking each other to sleep.
Her breathing slowed minute by minute, just as the already light grip on him loosened, until, Jack watching all the while, her face slackened completely. Serene in sleep, chest inflating and deflating rhythmically against his, June lost all the myriad signs of age and exhaustion that Jack now realized she carried with her so regularly, threated into her skin the lavender. Only the vague impression of laugh lines that creased the corners of her eyes remained, but here like this, tucked in under soft bedsheets and cradled in his arms, she looked truly young as only a person who had, throughout your entire life, always been an adult could be. A radical inversion of identity. A world held, turned over, and seen from the completely opposite angle.
With a parting kiss to his mother's forehead, Jack slipped from her arms, allowing her to resettle before he actually extricated himself from the bed.
Given that peculiar revelation, or realization, he really had a responsibility to address.
After he made his way back downstairs, the garage door opened with a faint squeak, the cool air hitting Jack’s skin. Legs spread wide and spark chamber radiant, light leaking through a fissure in her chest plate as if she'd cracked it open like a window to let out just a little bit of steam, Arcee’s towering blue-and-silver form leaned against the wall. Although her crotch plate was still firmly in place, she was drawing her finger along the inside of her thigh in a vague petting motion that only just brushed and, in turn, deformed almost imperceptibly, the increasingly supple and malleable metal along the seam. Dripping with smug satisfaction, her azure optics were nonetheless warm and welcoming as they locked on him. Her faceplate quirked into a fond smirk.
“Hey, Babe,” she said warmly. “Got your mom all tucked in?”
Jack relaxed, the exhaustion overtaking him at last as if, finally, he could rest. Crossing over to Arcee, he reached up, setting his hands to the warm platting along Arcee's ankle and tracing fingertips along the groves, angular plates, and even the rubber tread of the tire in her upper calf as he ambled forward.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice low, coming to a stop between her spread legs to lean against her inner thigh, setting his face to her smooth frame where artificial muscle, shapely and firm, curved into the divot opposite what passed for her hip bone. “She’s asleep, but I… needed to see you, Arcee.”
He beckoned her down to his level. When, with a dexterous arch of her spine - or the equivalent - she closed the distance, he set his palms to her cheeks and, slowly and seriously, raised himself on his tiptoes to press his lips against her warm faceplate in a slow goodnight kiss. After a nanoclick of uncertain indecision, Arcee’s massive finger rose to brush his cheek with delicate care, her touch gentle despite her size.
“Mm, you’re sweet,” Arcee purred when she pulled away after a full minute of savoring the sensual, yet in no way fervent kiss. Resettling against the wall, she cupped her hand underneath his buttocks, giving him a second to situate himself before hefting him up in a disorientating sweep that drew him up and deposited him safely on her chest. “I heard you two out there, you know. Got me all worked up, trying so hard not to touch myself.” Her optic winked, a playful glint, but her tone softened, introspective. “I think I’m getting addicted to your time with June. The way you love her, the way she loves you. It’s… beautiful.”
Jack’s gaze lingered on his wife-sparkmate-lover- on his partner's face - and that label was the one that was, above all, more valuable and meaningful than any of the others - and found himself staggered by the sheer open earnestness of a woman who had lost everything, every partner, lover, and home, and yet still opened herself up to him, to June, to uncertain possibilities replete with potential horrors.
“Arcee, I… thank you,” he said, his words earnest, his hand pressing harder against her plating. “For your loyalty, for giving me a family, for… encouraging me to see Mom in this new light. Other people wouldn’t get it, might think it’s wrong, but… I love what we’re building together, and I love you most of all.” His gratitude poured out, tying their bond to the protoform’s future, his resolve to be a present father strengthened by her unwavering support.
The low hum of Arcee's energon capillaries and spark thrumming behind her chest place deepened, a vibration that Jack could only deem comforted filled the garage.
“You’re part of my spark, Jack,” she said simply, her massive finger brushing his cheek again, tracing his lean jaw. “I love you too. More than you know, or than I know how to express.” Her faceplate tilted into a teasing grin. “Now get back to bed, Jack. I’ll be here, dreaming of you.”
Jack responded by pressing another kiss to her faceplate, on the apple of her cheek.
Granted, kind of like a kid asking for uppies, he had to make a vague gesture to impel her to heft him up close enough to her head for him to reach.
But that little slice of awkwardness didn't diminish his appreciation for the moment. Very few things could break the spell she had on him.
“Goodnight, Arcee,” he whispered in parting before he made the trek upstairs to rejoin his mother.
And their... wife.
Notes:
Apologies for the major delay. June was a terribly hectic month due to some work and health issues, but I'm through the woods for now. Also, this chapter is roughly half the size of the rest of the work thus far, so... yeah. I *hope* to be quicker with future chapters, and that this one proves worthy of your attentions.
All of your kind and engaged comments on prior chapters have been truly appreciated. On my "non-anon" works, I've found that engagement is at an all-time low throughout multiple fandoms, so your support given the niche nature of both Transformers Prime and, well, Jack/June/Arcee really means a great deal.
Chapter 7
Summary:
Jack and June awaken to a fleeting yet intimate morning.
Arcee needs to get topped-up with fuel.
And conversations are had on the subject of Arcee's predilections regarding June and Miko.
Notes:
Horrid delay. My thanks to a commenter whose polite inquiry gave me a kick in the rear that I needed to actually write for the first time in months. Sorry for the rust.
Chapter Text
Waking up to the softness of human flesh pressed against his own was already a surreal experience for someone used to the radiant heat of a Cybertronian body, multiple times the size of his own and mostly unyielding. The fact that Jack Darby found his own mother's supple thigh hiked up over his hip, heel hooked around his lower leg to pull him into her, the smooth and tender skin of her pubic mound pressed against his stirring erection, only rendered that a little more outre, if not in the least unwelcome.
Much the same could be said of the soft bosom that was compressed against his chest and, when he stirred, the haze of sleep parting like mist, June's gently smiling face as it came into view.
Filled with a kind of teasing mirth, her eyes traced his features as he stifled a yawn for fear of morning breath, allowing June to snuggle closer, if that was in any way possible, his mom closing the distance to press a feathery peck to his lips before she withdrew with a coquettish smile that made the slightly matronly woman, who really could pass as twenty-five given her trim figure and the lack of any grey threaded through her hair, look, well, still a little old for him, but within the realm of social acceptance.
... Other than the mom thing.
While he'd not trade Arcee for anything, or anyone, even his mother, he could certainly get used to waking in a warm bed alongside a gorgeous woman.
"Hey, Baby," June whispered, cupping his cheek gently to stroke, almost questioningly along the ridges of his cheek bone, palm to the slightly scratchy stubble. "Did you sleep well?"
Jack answered with a drowsy, wordless hum, his eyes still half-lidded as he drank her in. The first rays of dawn slipped through the blinds, painting her skin in soft light, slats and blotches of illumination warm highlights across her cheek, elegant jawline, and upper chest, the swell of her still pert bosom half concealed by the bedsheet. She lay partly-draped over him and her hand rose up to his cheek to allow her to run the backs of her fingers across his faint stubble and cheekbone as if tracing a face that was intimately-known and unfamiliar at the same time
With a half start and huff of a laugh, she shifted backwards slowly, coyly, really, rising to sit on the side of the bed and leaving him faintly bereft of her warmth before letting the sheet slide down the curve of her back and the swell of her ass as she sat up. Jack’s breath caught. Even in the dappled light, he could trace every line of her: the long, graceful sweep of her spine, the narrow waist that flared into hips -fuck, they were actually probably pretty thin in an absolute sense, but he couldn't help thinking of them as chlld-bearing hips because, damn! - the lush weight of her breasts swaying gently as she groaned faintly and, back arching, stretched one arm above her head.
Stretched...
Jack swallowed something rough in his throat.
Stretch marks glimmered faintly along the lower curve of flesh just above her buttocks and behind those... love handles of a very different and completely sexy sort, as well as the belly and the tops of her thighs. Remnants, he realized, from the months she had carried him inside her, swollen and heavy with his tiny, growing body. The same womb that had cradled him once had welcomed his seed last night, pussy clenching and fluttering around his cock until he spilled deep inside her.
The surreal conceptual collision made his chest ache with a jumbled adoration so fierce it felt almost holy.
June rose from the bed with a kind of mingled matronly and sinuous grace, the sheet falling away completely, and Jack’s gaze followed her as if he was helplessly ensorcelled while she padded toward the dresser. Her ass was a perfect heart-shape, firm yet plush despite her having crept into middle age. Passing as twenty-five was an understatement. Each step made the globes shift and flex, a slow, hypnotic roll that drew his eyes downward to the smooth, bare cleft between her thighs.
Apparently not content to simply murder but butcher him, she bent slightly to pull open a drawer, the motion presenting the full, breathtaking arc of her back and giving him just a teasing hint of the shadowed cleft of her pussy. Jack’s cock throbbed against his stomach, precum already beading at the tip because apparently he was a walking hard on, now, thanks to Pavlovian conditioning by his mom and Arcee. The sight of her his mother, his lover, the woman whose body had once sheltered him and now- now craved him with a voraciousness that was both hot as fuck and kind of intimidating, sent a dizzying wave of reverence and lust crashing through him. He wanted to crawl to her on his knees, press his mouth to those silvered marks, thank her for every month she had carried him, then bend her over that dresser spread her open, and sink back into the slick heat that had welcomed him home twice over.
The rippling, faintly puckered lines of stretch marks that curved down from the tender, miniscule roll of tissue, barely enough to pinch, and a few that bloomed along her shashaying rear provoked a sensation of near surreal. Rather the constant background radiation of the surreal flared up momentarily. Nothing had been normal since that day in a fast food joint's parking lot when he'd laid eyes on the most gorgeous bike, bot, and woman from there to Cybertron, of course, but gazing on June's stretch marks, where his eyes focused when she turned, unveiling on that cut across the edge of her stomach, creeping up from her inner thigh, that impression was never more intense.
June glanced over her shoulder as she slipped on a bra, catching the hunger in his stare, and her lips curved in a slow, knowing smile, as maternal as it was wanton.
“Eyes up here, baby,” she teased, voice husky with sleep and lingering satisfaction, but she let the pose linger another heartbeat, arching her back just enough to make her ass flex invitingly before straightening. She stepped into a pair of functional yet no less flattering white panties, the fabric trailing up her thighs, cupping the smooth mound and the lush swell of her ass cheeks until only the faintest hint of those stretch marks peeked above the waistband.
Jack swallowed hard, every muscle in his body coiled tight. His voice came out rough, almost reverent.
“You’re beautiful, Mom.” The title slipped out unbidden, raw with an amalgamated affection that, like alloy, couldn't be disentangled, and June’s smile softened, her eyes shining with something tender and incandescent as Jack slid upwards in bed, propping himself against the headboard as the sheet fell down to hip lap, pooling though still evidently tented since, well, monster cock and all that.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” she murmured earnestly, probably, he realized, because no one could possibly have told her that in years, turning to face him fully, letting him drink in the sight of her one last time before duty called.
“And you’re going to be late for school if you keep looking at me like that.” Approaching him with a brow cocked at the sight of his eagerness, she leaned down, breasts swaying, and brushed a soft kiss to his forehead in a chaste, maternal gesture.
Then another, lower, to the corner of his mouth, which was anything but. “Save that thought for tonight,” she whispered sweetly against his lips, Jack's breath hitching and heart nearly cracking his rib cage as its palpitations, along with the throb of his twitching dick, picking up when her free hand just ghosted over the impression of his cock, fingers tiptoeing around its contours like she was measuring his girth. “Your mother’s shift ends at seven.”
When she stood properly, her faintly-toned belly slid into view, putting the divot of her navel and the puckered creases of stretch marks along the side of the lingering layer of belly fat into clear view. Driven by some indefinable instinct older than memory that had him flushed and scalding hot in ways that both defied and defined the erotic, Jack caught her by surprise, jerking out his hands to clasp firm hold of her hips and pin her in place, prevent her from leaving for just that one, scintillant instant longer.
Too quickly for her to respond, but still somehow achingly slowly, he leaned in, drawing near to her belly. A sharp intake of breath that read more as shock - not of pleasure, as when he had pressed his lips to her folds, but something vaguely tender, like a mother being surprised by a young child's infinitely thoughtful birthday present - sounded out, hot and wet, above him as his lips met the warm, smooth skin of her belly, muscles flinching under the touch, so that he could venerate the hashed lines of raised flesh along her stomach.
When, after a lingering minute, the entire panoply of those stretch marks had been kissed in twisting trails, he looked up at her, his chin to her belly, he found her wide-eyed and breathless, as if she was stuck, frozen in amber at the instant of contact, mouth ever-so-slightly agape, watching him with a kind of wonder that he could never have imagined seeing in her.
"Love you, mom," he said again, quite simply.
A slow, tender smile curved her lips as she crossed the room again, bare feet silent on the hardwood.
She bent over him, breasts swaying beneath the thin fabric of her bra, and brushed another lingering kiss across his mouth, soft, warm, tasting faintly of mint. Her fingers threaded through his hair, nails scraping lightly against his scalp in the way that always made him shiver.
“One of these days,” she whispered against his lips, voice low and velvet, “when you don’t have school and I’m not due at the hospital, we’re going to stay right here. All day. No alarms, no missions, no excuses.” She kissed him again, deeper this time, letting him feel the promise of it. “Just us. Curled up under the covers, cuddling and making love for hours. I’ll tease you until you’re begging, then ride you slow until we’re both shaking and Arcee's insane with jealousy as I drain you dry. We’ll nap tangled together, wake up, and do it all again. A perfect, lazy day that belongs only to us.”
Her thumb traced his lower lip, eyes shining with love and unmistakable heat. “Hold that thought, baby. It’s coming soon.”
Then she straightened, gave his aching cock one last, affectionate glance, and, after dressing in a hurry, functional and pragmatic rather than teasing, she slipped out the door with a soft click of the latch.
After taking a minute to calm down and wrench himself back from the precipice of a heart attack, he swung his legs over the bed’s edge, his bare feet hitting the cool hardwood floor. He tugged on jeans and a fresh shirt before padding downstairs, the house quiet save for the faint tick of the wall clock now that June had departed.
In the garage, the door creaked open to reveal Arcee’s sleek blue-and-silver form waiting, her motorcycle mode gleaming under morning light filtering through a dusty window. The air was already beginning to warm in the Nevada heat, and her engine kicked on as he walked in, leaving her idling softly. A low purr vibrated through the concrete and his flesh as if a greeting. Jack’s steps slowed, a smile tugging at his lips as he approached, his hand trailing along her fuel tank, the warm metal sending a familiar spark through him.
“Morning, beautiful,” he murmured, his voice still rough with sleep, leaning down to press his lips to her handlebar in a tender kiss, his fingers lingering on her curves.
Jesus, he was starting to get aroused by her alt mode...
Arcee’s com buzzed to life, her voice a sardonic purr laced with warmth and a hint of restrained heat. I
“Morning, lover. You look… thoroughly worn out. Eventful night, huh? June really knows how to take care of her boy. Got me all riled up, listening to you two go at it. Had to fight not to rev my engine and join in.”
Her tone teased, but there was a husky edge, her frame vibrating faintly under his touch, betraying her arousal from the eavesdropping. Despite everything that he'd already done with both of his ... girls, suffice it to say, Jack’s cheeks flushed, his hand gripping her frame tighter, the subtle hum sending a jolt straight to his core.
“Arcee, I - thank you. For being so understanding last night. I love you for that.” His hand rose and tangled through his hair, scratching absently in a sudden flare of bashfulness that he couldn't explain. "And for a million other things, too, obviously."
Her engine purred deeper, a suggestive rumble that thrummed through him, her com voice dropping to a flirtatious whisper.
“Love you too, Jack. But don’t think I’m not aching for you after that show. I’ll be good, promise - hold off until school’s out. Then? You’re mine.” The words carried a playful promise, her frame shifting slightly under him, the vibration teasing his thighs as he mounted her seat and plucked up his helmet from its place, hanging on the side of her chassis. Once he was set, his hands curled around her handlebars, the contact strangely intimate even though he could feel nothing against the creases of his palms save for firm rubber, absent even the warmth of Arcee's chassis, scalding hot from baking in the Nevada sun or warm energon flow.
She let him drive.
Ceded control. Gave herself over to him in a way that was nothing less than the frantic, raucous sex with June last night.
The ride to school was hardly passive for Arcee, though. Jack’s hands gripped tighter with every passing moment, his thighs pressed against her warm metal, the hum of her engine vibrating through him, a constant, somehow suggestive rumble that made his pulse quicken. Through his helmet comm, Arcee teased him relentlessly, her voice a sardonic whisper in his ear.
“Feel that hum, Jack? Imagine it’s me, grinding against you. You’re hard already. Gonna be thinking about me and mommy all day, aren’t you?” Her words riled him, the vibration intensifying just enough to make him shift, his jeans uncomfortably tight, her laughter a low rumble, counterpoint to the feral-animal growl of her engine.
By the time they reached the school lot, Jack was in a perpetual state of distraction, his mind fogged with arousal, and, like someone who was, at least, semi-sensible, he had let Arcee take her own figurative wheel halfway through the trip, even if she was always a microsecond away from reasserting herself if ever he had cracked or fumbled under her relentless teasing.
The day’s classes blurred into a haze, Jack staggering through every lesson and even free period and lunch with his head in the clouds. Both an infinite span of time later, and in his next truly conscious moment, he found that the day was already over.
And, of course, far from it.
The scent of clean desert wind had settled into Jack's clothes and nostrils by the time Arcee’s engine attenuated to a low hum, her wheels crunching over gravel before rolling into the shadowed crevice of the Autobot base entrance. After Jack dismounted gingerly, she transformed in a fluid whirl of blue-and-silver metal, her massive hand coming to rest on his shoulder - or, rather, her fingertips, nudging him forward. After a thoroughly frustrating ride, rife with teasing, his jeans were still uncomfortably tight from relentless flirting, his mind a fog of arousal and anticipation, but the sight of the protoform in its gestation pod pulled a wet blanket over his ardour, at least temporarily
The base’s cavernous interior swallowed them, leaving him, despite its size, a vaguely claustrophobic as he adjusted to the stark contrast to the open desert. Humming consoles lined the walls, several having been repurposed into clusters of monitoring devices around the gestation bod, screens flickering with glyphs and iconography that Jack recognized as Cybertronian, but couldn’t parse, while glowing conduits pulsed like veins and pumping arteries between them, casting bluish light across the steel floor. The air carried with it the faintly sweet savor of energon, as if soaked into the walls and floor plates.
Ratchet stood before the gestation chamber, his red-and-white frame hunched over a console, his optics narrowed in focus.
“I suppose that you'll want an update,” Ratchet muttered over his shoulder without looking at them, his voice gruff, clinical, as he tapped at the console. “Jittery nerves and unfounded anxieties, as I understand it. You don't have to worry. All vitals are stable, and the gestation cycle, from what I can tell of the prtoform's maturation, is nearing completion. Emergence projected in approximately two weeks, maybe less. The-" He paused to mull over the words as Jack and Arcee came up beside him, surveying the wonder that Jack could still hardly process. "Well, let's call it the human-Cybertronian matrix is holding stable, but the organic components are so…" A rough equivalent to a shudder rocked through the gruff bot. "Unpredictable. Nutrient synthesis is balanced, though I’ve had to adjust the energon infusion to compensate for the cellular density.”
Jack’s fingers tightened on the plating of Arcee’s shin, his voice hesitant but earnest. “What does that... mean exactly? What does-” Hell, if felt wrong to say it and going off assumptions seemed equally inept. "Does the protoform need anything?" His throat bobbed.
“Needs?" he asked as if trying to taste the word and finding it as unpalatable as tainted energon. "Given that we're dealing with a unique hybrid, first of its kind, we've had to compensate for the pod-" His eyes flicked towards Arcee for a single instant before they returned to his readouts- "being optimally designed for a pure-bred Cybertronian. As we've already established, its resource requires are dualistic. Energon for the Cybertronian systems, supplemented with organic compounds. Based on its responses to the materials that you've been feeding it, I’m calibrating a formula for adult use after its emergence, but it’ll need testing. Beyond that?” He snorted, turning back to the console. “Not my field.”
Arcee’s massive hand brushed Jack’s shoulder, her touch gentle, her optics flickering with pride and a hint of sardonic warmth. “What Ratchet means is, it’ll need us, Jack. And believe me when I say that I understand that. Your love, your presence.” Her voice was a low hum, her plating warm against his back, the contact sparking a shiver that mingled comfort with the lingering heat from their ride.
While Ratchet busied himself by fiddling with the control panel to the gestation chamber, ignoring them studiously and quite obviously, Arcee's massive finger grazed Jack's jaw, the tenderness of it sending a pulse of warmth through him. “And I’m here too. We’re a team, remember? Even if Ratchet’s too busy fussing over his gizmos to care about that.”
Ratchet grunted, his frame stiffening as he adjusted a dial. “My ‘gizmos’ are tracking this protoform's evolution and wellbeing, and I’ll need to do the same to monitor it post-emergence for anomalies.” He stepped back, optics narrowing.
"Speaking of monitoring the protoform," Arcee noted casually while leaning down towards the display panel on the pod as if to examine the readouts, which had the added benefit of causing her spine to arch sinuously and her breasts, despite the plating that held them firm and unmoving, to appear to sway and hang slightly lower. "Can you keep Bulk and Bee out of the control room for a while?"
"Why?" Ratchet asked, eyes darting over to the controls as if anxious that something might be amiss.
"Progenitor responsibilities," Arcee replied, rising with a small shrug. "It's complicated."
“Hgh," came Ratchet's guttural venting, coupled with a groan as of stressed metal. "I’ve got work elsewhere. Stay, if you want. Don’t touch any of my materials or tools.” With a final glance at the chamber, he strode out, his heavy steps echoing, leaving Jack and Arcee alone with their child.
Jack exhaled shakily, his hand still on Arcee’s plating, the chamber’s pulse mirroring his own. The sterile bay felt suddenly intimate, the hum of energon conduits a quiet lullaby. “Two weeks,” he murmured, his voice thick. “It’s… it’s so soon, Arcee. Our kid.” His hazel eyes met her glowing optics, searching for reassurance, finding it in her steady gaze.
Arcee leaned closer, settling on the ground with him standing between her splayed legs, her massive frame curling protectively around him as she cradled him in both hands, letting him rest his weight on her, her voice a soft growl laced with affection.
“We’re ready. You, me, June… I mean, she already has experience raising the best kid I know.” Her optic glinted with humor, but her touch was tender, her fingers kneading into his back and shoulders, the manifold warmth seeping into his bones. “We’ll make this work. Together.”
Her labia curled suggestively and Jack, from the sight alone, was well aware of just what was being suggested. "Speaking of being together..."
Already, just from the way that Arcee's gaze began to shift into something sultry, smoky violet haze welling up behind lidded, azure eyes, the medical bay was starting to become a little bit warm, shocked as Jack was by the brazen, and wonton, expression even as Ratchet’s heavy steps just started to fade, leaving Jack and Arcee alone with the protoform’s gestation chamber.
The air hummed with the faint buzz of the conduits running into the machine that cast soft shadows across Arcee’s blue-and-silver plating. She was, in that instant, rendered strangely ethereal, a nearly radiant vision as she shifted until her massive form leaned against the wall, one leg bent casually, though her optics burned with a restless intensity.
Arcee’s optic flickered, catching his gaze, her faceplate quirking into a sly, knowing smirk.
“We’re alone now, Jack,” she purred, her voice a low hum, thick with a pent-up heat that made his pulse quicken. “I’m running a bit low on energon… and something else.” Her massive finger brushed his shoulder, trailing down his arm, gently over his hip bone, to leave him hissing when the pad settled over his crotch, the touch transforming into deliberate, slow caress that sparked a shiver, racing to the core of his stomach, even as he began to respond to her physically. “I’ve been good all day, holding back after listening to you and June last night, so you'd better be willing to ... top me up.”
Her plating shifted subtly, a faint click echoing as she squirmed, before her chest plate retracted to expose the swell of her breasts, nipples already peaking, her thigh brushing against his hip, the motion betraying her desperation.
Jack’s breath hitched, his jeans tightening as her words stoked the lingering arousal from their ride. “Arcee… here?” he stammered, his eyes darting to the gestation chamber, the glow reflecting in his wide pupils. “In front of… our kid?” His voice was hoarse, a mix of shock and reluctant heat.
Arcee’s chuckle was a static-laced growl, her optics glinting with mischief and reassurance.
“Relax, Jack. The protoform’s unconscious, just a spark and cells knitting together. No awareness yet. What do you remember from June’s womb? Nothing, right?” Her massive hand cupped his shoulder, pulling him closer to her crotch plate, the warmth of her soaking through his shirt as if he was already nude. “I need you, sparkmate. Last night was torture, hearing you fuck your mother-" Jack's cheek twitched right along with his cock- "right next to me, her moans, your gasps… I nearly overloaded just from the sound.” Her voice dropped, sultry and teasing. “Primus, that got me hot. You’re such a sexy motherfucker, Jack.”
Jack choked on a laugh, his cheeks flushing red, the obscenity, however apt, as jarring as it was thrilling.
“Arcee!” he rasped, half-amused, half-shocked, his hand gripping her thigh plating tighter as her brazenness stoked a fire in his gut along with the sweet copper scent of her welling arousal. “You… you’re inccorigable.” Her amusement vibrated through her frame, a low hum that made his skin prickle, his cock already straining against his jeans, heavy and aching.
She leaned closer, her massive form looming, her optics narrowing with predatory delight.
“Oh, I’m just getting started,” she murmured, her finger pad flicking along his now swelling cock and balls, leaving his jeans agonizingly tight. “Let me take care of you, like a good sparkmate should. You've got plenty of fluid build-up you need drained, and I'm almost running on empty.”
Her plating shifted again, a restless squirm, her crotch-plate still in place but thighs trembling faintly, as if barely containing her sodden need. Jack’s breath quickened, his eyes darting to the sealed seam, imagining the slick folds beneath, his mind reeling at her brazenness.
With a gentle nudge, she guided him to sit on a low console, its surface cool against his thighs. Her massive hand withdraw, allowing him to fumble off his jeans, revealing his boxers, which tented as his cock sprang upwards. The fabric strained against his erection, jutting into the air almost comically, veins stark along its length, the tip damp with precum, a glistening bead soaking through the cotton. Arcee’s optics flared, a hungry glow, her faceplate tilting as she took in the sight.
“Look at you,” she purred, her voice dripping with need. “So ready for me.”
Jack’s heart pounded, his hands gripping the console’s edge, the metal biting into his palms as she hooked a finger into his boxers, easing them down to free his cock. It sprang upward as the fabric was shucked, thick and veiny, the shaft pulsing with heat, the glans slick and flushed, his balls tight and heavy beneath. The air hit his skin, cool against the burning ache, and he groaned softly, his head tipping back as Arcee’s massive finger grazed the underside, a featherlight touch that sent a jolt through his spine, his cock twitching in response.
“Primus, Jack,” she growled, her voice thick with arousal, her plating squirming as she leaned closer, her breath a warm hum against his thighs. “You have no idea how hard it was to be good last night, hearing you fill June up, her pussy clenching you tight. I was so close, just from your moans.”
Her optics locked on his, her massive lips parting as she lowered her faceplate, her glossa, a sleek, flexible tendril of Cybertronian alloy, flicking out to taste the precum beading at his tip. The contact was electric, a wet, warm swipe that made him gasp, his hips bucking instinctively, his cock pulsing against her glossa.
She hummed, the vibration rippling through him, her glossa curling around his shaft, tracing the thick veins that throbbed under her touch. Her optics never left his, glowing with a mix of adoration and raw need, her plating squirming as her own arousal built, the crotch-plate still sealed but visibly trembling, a faint sheen of lubricant glistening at the seam.
Jack’s breath came in ragged bursts, his fingers white-knuckling the console, pleasure coiling tight in his belly as her glossa swirled around his glans, dipping into the slit to lap up another bead of precum, the taste drawing a static moan from her.
“Arcee… fuck,” he groaned, his voice hoarse, his hazel eyes half-lidded as he watched her, mesmerized by the sight of the badass warrior 'bot's massive lips and glossa working his cock like sucking his dick was oxygen, the contrast of her sleek metal against his flushed, veiny flesh.
Her glossa tightened, stroking his shaft with precise, teasing pressure. Each swipe of her tongue sent waves of scalding pleasure through him, pooling in his aching balls, heavy with need, the console creaking under his grip as he fought to stay still, letting her lead.
She pulled back slightly, her glossa lingering at his tip, her optics glinting with amusement as she caught his choked reaction to her earlier words.
“What’s that, Jack? Shocked your sparkmate loves the taste of your dick? Or how you fuck your mom?” she teased, her voice a sultry growl, the tip of her glossa flicking out to brush by his slick glans again, drawing a whimper. “Think I'm starting to understand that taboo - wouldn't want mommy stealing this from me, now would I … my sexy motherfucker?”
Her laughter vibrated through his cock, amplifying the pleasure as she pressed in to suck him deeper, her lips sealing around his shaft, pulling a desperate moan from his throat.
Jack’s head lolled back, his body trembling, pleasure searing through him as her glossa swirled and stroked, her lips working his cock. More shocking even than her wantonness, her crotch-plate was still in place but visibly straining, a faint drip of lubricant pooling beneath as it leaked through the cracks and edges, her desperation evident in the restless shift of her thighs.
“You’re so good to me,” he gasped, his voice raw, one hand reaching to press against her faceplate, fingers splaying over the warm metal, feeling her hum of pleasure vibrate through him.
“Good sparkmate,” she murmured against him, the words muffled, sending shivers through his core. “Let me feel you, Jack. Let me taste how much you want me.”
As she dove back in, Arcee’s optics flared brighter, her glossa tightening around his cock, stroking faster, her suction intensifying while she savored his taste, his pleasure. Her glossa curled around his base, flicking out to tease and roll his balls, completely soft and smooth without the rough buds of June's tongue.
God, she was gorgeous, almost alight. Arcee’s optics burned with a molten azure, her faceplate quirked in a wicked smirk even with the seal she had around his dick, the wet heat leaving his breath ragged as he stood between her spread thighs, the console beneath him creaking under his white-knuckled grip.
Arcee’s chuckle, itself another torment as it reverberated into his cock was a low, static-laced purr, her optics glinting with predatory delight as she pulled away, his cock bouncing free from her mouth with an obscene pop.
“Enough teasing, Jack,” she murmured, her voice thick with need, her massive hands sliding down her frame to the seam of her crotch-plate.
With a soft click, the panel retracted, unveiling her sodden fold. Sleek and yielding, glistening with a crystalline sheen, the labia were topped by her clit, a pulsing, translucent gem that caught the light like a star. The sight stole his breath, his knees weakening as he staggered forward, awed by her beauty, her raw power, the sheer strength of her Cybertronian form that invited him without fear.
Jack knelt between her spread thighs, his lean body taut with need, his massive cock still glistening from her worship, veins bulging along its heavy length, the tip flushed and leaking steadily, just like his wife's sodden pussy.
His hazel eyes were wide, locked on the unveiled beauty of her folds, crystalline lubricant dripping in slow, viscous trails down her inner plating, pooling beneath her like liquid starlight. The crystalline orb of her clit pulsed at the center, a radiant gem throbbing with inner light, casting faint azure reflections across his skin.
What was wrong with guys who didn't think that a girl - your girl's womanhood was pretty much the most beautiful thing in the world?
“Primus, Arcee,” he rasped, his voice hoarse, his eyes tracing the contours of her folds, the crystalline clit pulsing faintly, beckoning him even as her legs froze up on either side of him, her servos locking. “You’re… glorious.”
His hands reached out, fingers trembling as they brushed her inner thigh plating, warm and smooth, the contact sending a jolt through his core, his cock aching to bury itself in her.
She stretched languidly, her massive arms folding behind her head, her optics locked on him, enthralled by the sight of his lean frame, his heavy cock swaying as he stepped closer.
“Come on, sparkmate,” she coaxed, her voice a sultry growl, dripping with lust. “Fuck me. I can take it, Jack. You know I’m tough enough for anything you’ve got.”
Jack’s heart pounded, his body moving almost on instinct as he climbed onto her frame, his hands gripping her thigh plating for balance, marveling at the unyielding strength beneath the smooth metal. Grasping hold of his member and giving it a quick pump, he positioned himself, guiding his cock to brush her sodden folds, the contact searing, a wet heat that was both alien and intimate, unlike June’s soft warmth but no less consuming.
With a slow, deliberate thrust, he sheathed himself inside her, his thick length sinking into her tight, slick channel, the sensation overwhelming - a cascade of pulsing warmth, her inner walls rippling with to seal tight around his girth, gripping him with a strength that made his head spin.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his voice breaking, his hips snapping forward as he buried himself deeper, pressing forward the next few inches and staring in renewed awe as she opened up for him, dilating to accommodate the intrusion.
And that was when he snapped.
He could be rough. Needed to be, she had him so worked up, his hands digging into her plating, thrusts becoming feral and animalistic. His cock slammed into her without fear of hurting her, her strength a marvel that freed him to let go. Heavy and aching, his balls slapped against her pliant pussy lips, the sensation of her spreading for him somehow amplified by the intensifying whine or sibilant hum of her clit, each thrust driving him deeper, the wet squelch of her lubricant mingling with his precum filling the air.
Arcee’s optics flared, her faceplate tilting back as she moaned.
“That’s it, Jack,” she purred, her voice dripping with promise, her hands still folded behind her head, her gaze locked on his cock plunging into her. “Fuck me hard, like you fucked June last night.”
The vision that played through his mind, mother and wife together, entwined, half-memory and half-fantasy, stoked the fire in his gut, his thrusts growing frantic, his cock pulsing inside her.
Jack’s breath came in ragged gasps, his hazel eyes half-lidded, lost in the sight of her—her massive frame sprawled beneath him, her folds glistening with each thrust, her crystalline clit throbbing against him and leaving him awash in heady yearning as its increasingly unsteady pulsations sent electric jolts through his shaft.
“Arcee… shit,” he panted, his hands bracing against her inner thighs, the metal warm and unyielding under his fingers. The intensity of her pussy was unreal, rippling with a mechanical precision that milked him, each brutal thrust, likely hard enough to bruise a human woman, met with a clench that made his balls tighten, pleasure coiling like a spring in his belly.
She laughed, a low, wicked sound, her optics glinting with mischief.
“You love it, don’t you? Fucking your sparkmate, your mother, maybe Miko next,” she teased, her voice ratchetting etching up in pitch as she cupped her heavy breasts to roll and pinch the nipples.
“Imagine it, Jack: getting us all pregnant, your seed filling us up, swelling June’s belly, mine, Miko’s tight little body. Wouldn’t you like that, stud? Breeding your whole damn family?”
Her words hit like a punch, her amusement spiking visibly across her features as he choked and nearly came on the spot as the image of June and Miko splayed out before him, their taut bodies soft and rounded with his children, his thrusts faltering for a moment as the lurid image flooded his mind.
“Arcee!” he gasped, his voice a mix of shock and raw need, his cheeks flushing red as he drove into her harder.
“Keep going, Jack,” she coaxed, her voice thick with lust, her thighs trembling faintly, her crystalline clit pulsing faster against him. “Show me how much you want me. I was so close last night, hearing you fuck June, her pussy dripping with your cum. I want that, sparkmate - want you to lose it inside me.”
Jack’s vision blurred, pleasure searing through him, his hands digging into her plating, his fingers tracing the grooves of her hips as he fucked her with abandon, marveling at her strength, her beauty, the way she could take every ounce of his need without flinching. His cock was a throbbing mass of heat, each roll of his hips producing an obscene squelching when he jerked forward into her folds. His thrusts were rough, desperate, each one driving him deeper, her crystalline clit sparking against his pelvis, drawing his hand to trace its angular edges.
The first faint caress sent quivers through her upper torso, a near convulsion that ran up the full height of her, as the pressure of her fingers along the supple and resistant swell of her bosom intensified to the point that it looked like her bluish nipples should start to sting and the soft tissue bruise.
Arcee’s moans grew louder, her optics flaring as she watched him, her body rocking with each thrust.
“Fuck! That's it, Jack!” she yelped, her voice a blend of adoration and raw desire. “Fuck me like you mean it, Jack. Like you fucked your mom, like you’ll fuck Miko. Make us all yours!” Her folds clenched tighter, rippling around him, her clit pulsing in time with his thrusts, her own pleasure cresting as she squirmed, her plating trembling with the effort to hold back her overload.
Jack’s body jerked, pleasure coiling tight in his belly and balls so tightly that it felt as if he was going to explode. Nearly losing control of his own quaking limbs, he was consumed by her, by the intensity of her strength, her love, her shameless lust, his sparkmate and wife who took everything he gave and demanded more and returned it a thousand fold.
Arcee’s massive form sprawled before him, her blue-and-silver plating heaving with each ragged vent of her systems, her optics blazing with feral hunger. Quivers raced through her thighs, the unyielding metal flexing subtly under the strain despite her locked servos, while her interface clenched as if she was trying to suck him inside of her, desperate for more.
Jack’s breath came in shallow gasps, his cock aching, heavy balls tight with unspent seed, as he cupped and fondled the crystalline orb of Arcee's clit. The touch was electric, a spark jumping from her clit to his skin, making him gasp as the orb hummed beneath his fingertips, warm and alive, pulsing in time with her core.
“Jack… yes,” Arcee moaned almost pitifully, her frame arching slightly as he began to stroke, his fingers circling the orb with slow, deliberate pressure, teasing the sensitive facets that glowed brighter under his touch. Each stroke sent ripples through her folds, the slick lubricant coating his hand, the sensation slick and warm, like velvet laced with static.
He leaned in, his breath hot against her folds, his free hand gripping her thigh plating for balance, the metal unyielding under his fingers as he teased the orb harder, pinching lightly, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. Arcee’s whines escalated into hollering cries, her massive frame bucking despite her locked servos, the bay echoing with the raw, feral sound of her pleasure.
“Fuck, Jack! Harder… make me scream,” she snarled, her voice wild, filthy, her optics flaring white-hot as she lost control, her folds spasming, lubricant gushing in slick waves that coated his arm, splashed out to soak his pelvis, the air thick with her ozone-sweet scent. “You love this, don’t you? Making your sparkmate beg like a slut?"
Jack’s cock twitched violently, his arousal spiking at her filthy words, his fingers relentless on her clit, stroking faster, pinching harder, the orb pulsing wildly under his touch, sending shocks through his tingling fingertips and into his forearm.
Arcee hollered louder, her voice fracturing into static roars, her frame shuddering, plating rattling as she thrashed her head, her hands unfolding to claw at the floor, concrete cracked under her fingers.
“Yes! Frag, Jack, right there… make me come, you sexy motherfucker! I want you breeding us all - filling our cunts with your cum, knocking us up!” Her words were wild, unfiltered, her clit flaring under his strokes, the light blinding as her overload crashed through her, her folds gushing lubricant in hot, slick waves that soaked him in her scent and warmth, her cries echoing off the bay’s walls.
Jack’s climax hit like a thunderclap, sending shards of constellated scalding metal through his tingling brain and tendrils of lightning racing from the tip of his cock to his scrotum and up to his flinching belly. His seed erupted into her as he fucked them both through an orgasm, his setting off that of his Sparkmate, thick ropes of cum spurting from his heavy shaft, flooding her cunt even as relentless thrusts pushed more of the cum that was oozing out around his shaft back into her.
He nearly whited out from the sheer force of his balls contracting painfully, pleasure ripping through him. He gasped, fingers still stroking her clit through her spasms, the sight of her losing control - her massive body writhing, face pinching up in ecstasy so potent it looked almost agonized, her folds clenching hard around him - was so affirming, so thrilling, he almost expired right then and there.
His vision blurring, his body shaking, the intensity leaving him weak-kneed, he braced himself with shuddering arms, barely able to feel his cumsy fingers, and pulled himself free from his sparkmate, inch after inch of his cock meeting cool air. Pulsing with aftershocks, veins still throbbing, his cock popped free at last, the tip dripping the last of his load onto the ground alongside the torrent of seed and slick that was squeezed out of Arcee's dilating pussy lips, clenching and winking as if begging for more. Great gouts of his cum mixed with her lubricant in a messy flood.
They panted together, Arcee’s frame settling with a low hum, her optics dimming to a soft glow as she plucked Jack up and drew him closer, cradling him against her chest plating, her massive arms enveloping him in a warm, protective embrace. Her slick folds still glistened below, lubricant pooling beneath them, the air thick with their mingled scents. Jack nestled into her, his head resting on her soft and pliant breasts, which he nuzzled and caressed languidly, fondling one of the nipples almost absently while peppering the grey flesh with gentle kisses and licks. He had to pause, occasionally, since his was breath ragged, his hands stroking her curves tenderly.
“Arcee,” he murmured, his voice hoarse, expansive with affection, his fingers tracing her plating, feeling the faint vibrations of her core. “That was… incredibly - like always.. I love you, sparkmate," he said with emphasis on the term, eliciting a shudder that he could feel through his wife's entire chassis. "Through all of this, whatever comes. We’ll build it together, you and me, Mom… our family.”
Arcee’s optics softened, her massive finger brushing his cheek, her touch gentle, reverent. “I love you too, Jack,” she whispered, her voice warm, expansive with promise, her frame humming softly against him. “You’re my spark, my everything. As long as I have you, I’m home.”
Unbidden as the memories coalesced and animal sensation receded, a thought crept through his mind, one that had him smiling almost awkwardly up at the beaming visage of his sparkmate.
"What are you thinking about, smooth operator?" Arcee asked with a sardonic tone, probably due to his expression, her brow pinching slightly.
Jack chuckled softly, his head tilting against her bosom, his voice bemused.Mom
“You really have a thing for me being with other women, don’t you?” he said, his tone light but curious, his fingers still tracing lazy patterns on her curves.
Arcee’s laugh was a low rumble that left him shaking, her optics glinting with amusement as she shrugged, her massive shoulders shifting beneath him.
“What can I say?” she purred, her voice smug, playful. “I like seeing you show off, Jack. Like a stud, claiming what’s his. June, Miko, whoever. It’s hot, watching you take them, knowing you’re mine at the end.”
One massive finger traced his jaw, her touch affectionate and feather light with the precision of her control and restraint; even in their most wild moments, she had to be like this and there was never an instant that he forgot. Never a moment went by when some part of her wasn't devoted to protecting him.
Jack’s smile widened, his exhaustion forgotten in her embrace, his body still humming from their shared climax, his softening cock resting against her plating, slick with their mingled fluids. He propped himself up slightly, his hazel eyes meeting her glowing optics, curiosity deepening in his gaze.
“It’s more than that, though, isn’t it?” he asked, his voice soft, probing, his fingers pausing on the bulge of her nipple, faintly wet with protogon. “The way you talk about it, tease me… it’s like it lights something up in you. What’s the pull?”
Arcee’s optics dimmed for a moment, her massive frame settling as she considered, her hum vibrating through him like a gentle current. She unfolded one arm from behind her head, her finger brushing his chest in slow, affectionate circles, mirroring his touch.
“It’s… complicated, Jack,” she said, her voice losing its edge, turning reflective. “Cybertronian culture, what’s left of it after the war…. You saw that I didn't even have the faintest idea about procreation. The Progenitors guarded that, hid it from the masses, wrapped it up in myth and rituals, and when Megatron slaughtered them, we thought it died with them.”
Her finger paused on his skin, her optics glowing brighter, fixed on his face with a reverence that made his breath catch.
“Being with you, feeling your seed spark life in me? That was the first time in ... In a span longer than your recorded history that a Cybertronian knew that act. And I was the one, your sparkmate, experiencing it alongside you. It’s a privilege, Jack, a miracle I never imagined. Witnessing you procreate, or even envisioning it… it’s awe-inspiring. The man I love, pouring himself into another, creating something new, something that connects the past and projects it into the future. No matter who you’re with, though maybe especially June since she's— she's that past itself... like... the archetype - no, that's not quite right. Even 'prototype' doesn't quite fit - but the- the pattern of creating life because she - she made you, to me. it’s like watching a spark ignite, a piece of you becoming life with the source of life - yours and- and mine in a lot of ways. There’s something infinitely alluring about it, seeing my sparkmate breeding. It’s… beautiful. Sacred in a way Cybertron thought forgotten.”
Jack’s breath caught, his eyes widening as her words sank in, and not for the first time he was struck by the alien lenses through which Arcee viewed the world, and the privilege of perceiving it anew through her. Their child, love, sex, procreation reframed through her optics.
“I… didn’t realize,” he murmured, his voice thick, shimmying upwards so that he was sitting high enough to allow his hand to slide up and cup the edge of her faceplate, his thumb brushing warm metal. “For you, it’s like… rediscovering something lost. That makes sense, Arcee. It’s why you get so… into it, teasing me about - about that.” He paused, a faint flush creeping up his neck, his body stirring faintly at the memory of her earlier taunts, his cock twitching again against her plating.
Arcee nodded, her optics flaring softly, her voice a blend of awe and mischief.
“Exactly. You came along, and suddenly, with a few touches and a lecture on 'the birds and the bees' … it’s real. I get to know the truth of it - see it, feel it through you. Breeding, creating, watching you with June, imagining you with Miko… it’s like sharing in that miracle again and again. A privilege, being the first in my race to witness it in eons, to know it’s me and my sparkmate at the heart of it.”
He leaned closer, his forehead resting against her plating, the faint pulse of her core thrumming through him like a second heartbeat. “That’s… beautiful, Arcee,” he said, his voice expansive with wonder, his fingers splaying wider on her faceplate. “I never thought of it that way. It's so much the norm on Earth that it's easy to forget that life is a miracle. But hearing you… it makes it feel bigger, like we’re part of something- I don't even know if I have the words.”
Arcee’s finger grazed his back, her touch tender, her optics softening as she watched him, the glow reflecting in his eyes.
“That’s what I love about it,” she murmured, her voice warm, expansive. “You humans make it so… personal, so raw." She winked playfully. "And you squirm so delightfully when I bring it up - so cute that I could just eat you up. Fucking your own biological mother, filling her like she’s yours to breed. It’s adorable, Jack, the way your cheeks flush, your breath catches. Adorable.”
Her laugh was soft, affectionate, her finger trailing down his spine, drawing a shiver from him, her plating humming with residual heat.
Jack’s flush deepened, a choked laugh escaping him as he shook his head, his fingers tightening on her faceplate, feeling the subtle pulse beneath.
“You’re impossible,” he said, his voice a mix of embarrassment and affection, his body relaxing into her embrace despite the stirring heat her words ignited. “But, honestly? Knowing that, feeling how much it means… it makes me love you more.”
A calm fell over them, then, silence and softness as they lay together in the middle of the command bay.
Jack was well aware that they were playing with fire since Bulk or Bee could wander in at any minute, but bathed in the protoform gestation chamber's soft, bioluminescent glow, its light dancing across his sparkmate's curves, he couldn't bring himself to cate. Jack nestled into her, his lean body warm against her metal, his softening cock resting against her plating, slick and heavy, his hazel eyes half-lidded with exhaustion and affection. His fingers traced lazy patterns along her bosom.
Arcee broke the silence, a mischievous azure glint sparking in her optics as her massive finger grazed his jaw, tilting his face to meet her gaze.
“You know, Jack,” she offered casually, “since breeding’s such a spiritual thing for me, maybe you’d consider taking it further.” Her finger trailed down his chest, pausing at his navel, her touch deliberate, sparking a shiver that made his cock twitch against her plating. “I looked up that tubal ligation thing June had. Human tech’s cute, but with a bit of Cybertronian know-how, Ratchet could reverse it in a cycle. Easy. Imagine it, sparkmate. Your mom’s belly rounding out, swelling with your kid, everyone in Jasper whispering about what young stud knocked up the hot nurse. No one suspecting it’s you, her own boy, fucking her senseless.”
Jack’s breath hitched, his cheeks flushing red, his cock stirring despite the exhaustion, thickening against her plating as the images formed in his brain.
“Arcee,” he rasped, his voice a mix of shock and reluctant heat, his fingers tightening on her hip, the metal warm under his grip. “You’re… you’re serious?”
His hazel eyes widened, searching hers, his body tensing as her finger dipped lower, brushing the base of his cock, the contact sending a jolt through his core, his shaft pulsing, beginning to swell.
“Mmm, what do you think stud?” she teased, her voice dripping with lust, her massive finger curling around his cock, stroking slowly, the slick metal cool against his heated flesh, coaxing it to full, throbbing hardness. “Picture June, hormones raging, her tits heavy, her pussy dripping, begging for your fat monster cock every day just to keep her sane. You’d have to fuck her morning, noon, night, pounding that milf pussy, filling her up, watching her belly grow. You wouldn’t want to disrespect your sparkmate’s spiritual beliefs, would you?” Her strokes intensified, finger gliding along his length, the tip leaking precum that slicked her touch.
Jack’s hips bucked instinctively into her grip, his cock now fully erect.
“Spiritual beliefs?” he gasped, his voice hoarse, a choked laugh breaking through as he shook his head, his hands gripping her plating for balance, the metal unyielding under his fingers. “Since when do you- you have those?”
Arcee’s smirk widened, her optics flaring with amusement, her finger stroking faster, her thumb circling his tip, smearing precum in slow, teasing swirls that made his balls tighten, aching with renewed need.
“Oh, I’m inventing them as we go,” she purred, her voice almost abjectly filthy. “But I’m pretty damn sure they involve watching my gorgeous little motherfucker breed his milf mom daily. Primus, it’s hot.” Her finger tightened, stroking his shaft with precise, relentless pressure.
Jack’s head lolled back, his body trembling, pleasure coiling tight in his belly as her finger worked him, her words stoking the fire of his taboo desires.
“Fuck, Arcee,” he groaned, his voice breaking, his cock throbbing in her grip, veins bulging, the tip leaking steadily now, slicking her finger in glistening strands. “You’re gonna kill me with this… Mom, pregnant, needing me like that…”
His mind reeled, the image vivid: his mom's belly heavy with his child, her eyes wild with hormonal need, her pussy clenching around him, begging for release.
Arcee’s optics burned into him, her faceplate tilting as she plucked him up and moved him towards her faceplate, settling him so that he was kneeling on her cheeks. Her massive lips parted to allow her glossa, a sleek, flexible tendril of Cybertronian alloy, to flick out to taste the precum beading at his tip. The contact was electric, a wet, warm swipe that made him gasp, his hips bucking.
“Mmm,” she moaned, glossa curling around his shaft, savoring the mingled taste of her own pussy slick and his salty precum. Her lips sealed around his glans, the suction gentle but relentless, pulling a desperate moan from his throat.
Her glossa swirled, tracing the contours of his cock while Jack’s hands clawed at her plating, his fingers digging into the grooves, the metal warm and unyielding as he fought to stave off another orgasm.
“Arcee… fuck,” he panted.
She pulled back slightly, her glossa lingering at his tip, lapping up a thick bead of precum, her optics glinting with wicked delight. “Oh, I’m just getting started,” she purred, her voice muffled, the vibration rippling through his cock, amplifying the pleasure. “Imagine it, Jack: June’s pussy dripping, her belly round, begging for this cock every day. You’d fuck her raw, fill her up, keep her sane.” Her lips sealed around him again, sucking harder, while wide, dextrous fingers curled around his sides and buttocks to keep him steady and pinned despite his squirming.
Jack’s moans grew louder, his body trembling, pleasure searing through him, drawing him closer and closer to the edge yet again.
“Arcee… I’m gonna…” he gasped, his voice breaking, his hips bucking, his balls tightening painfully as the climax loomed.
Her glossa flicked his slit, her suction intensifying, and Jack’s climax crashed through him, his cock erupting in thick, hot ropes of cum, splattering her massive tongue, filling her mouth with his release. She moaned she worked him over vigorously, curling and flicking about to catch every drop, before, in a lurid display, she pulled back, showing off the load pooled on her glossa, the white streaks glistening against sleek metal, her optics locked on his, triumphant and lustful.
With a slow, deliberate swallow, she took it down, her throat undulating and humming with satisfaction, her lips curling into a smirk as she licked them clean, savoring the taste of him, of them.
“Perfect,” she purred, her voice dripping with adoration, her massive finger brushing his softening cock as she resettled him on her breasts, coaxing a final shudder from him. “But you'd better not think that I'm done with you, today. It's your fault, you know, for turning June and me into real gas-guzzlers.”
Jack collapsed against her, his breath ragged, his body spent, his hands splaying over her plating, feeling the faint pulse of her spark, even through her plating, as it sent tingling prickles through his spent cock, stirring him again despite the explosive orgasm.
“B-brought it on myself, huh?” he panted, his voice thick with affection, his hazel eyes meeting hers, enervation and renewed excitement, almost without end, mingling. “Guess I'll have to take responsibility.”
Her optics softened, her massive arms pulling him closer, cradling him against her chest.
Caught up as he was in the full-bodied experience of her, from the warm and sweet melange of scents both terrestrial in her leather accents and wholly foreign-cum-familiar from the energon capillaries and the saccharine lubricant that was still coating him to the plush warmth of her bosom, all he could do was sag and rest.
Completely oblivious to the paired slits of light flickering like highbeams through dense, soupy fog, twin embers of silvery violet, illuminating the interior of the gestation chamber.