Adult-FanFiction.org : Cartoons

Becoming Mama Bear	By : Breech_Loader Category: Transformers > Transformers: Animated > Het - M/F Views: 8539 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 20
- 21
- 22
~~~

Becoming Mama Bear

Co-Written by Harley Quinn hyenaholic and Froggy22651

~~~

Harley: This chapter explains why you should never listen to your parents making out. Your imagination runs away with you. While we were halfway through writing this chapter – which will by now be several weeks ago – I found a song so appropriate to the chapter that I nearly wet myself with joy.

Froggy: We’ll remind you – we were already halfway through writing the chapter when Harley found the song.

Harley: Go listen to ‘The Last Night’ by Skillet.

~~~

Chapter Twenty-One: The Last Night

“It’s all your fault. Your fault we’re offline. Your fault planets were destroyed. Your fault Cybertron is dying. Always, and only, your fault. Always...”

Hotwire’s optics snapped open and she sat up with a sharp gasp. She was overheating. Another reminder. They varied, and they didn’t come every time she recharged... but even now when Prowl insisted it wasn’t all her fault, it was, it was... She produced her screwdriver and prepared to drag it through her forearm again... and again and again and again... and paused.

Prowl wouldn’t like it. Prowl wouldn’t want her to. Prowl didn’t think it was right.

Prowl, Prowl, Prowl... she needed him.

Hotwire staggered out of her room. She didn’t close the door. With every step the desire to hurt herself rose, and when she reached Prowl’s door, she scrabbled pathetically at the handle, before sinking to her knees and knocking, stabbing the screwdriver ineffectually at the floor.

She could hear movement on the other side of the door as Prowl stood up and walked over to answer it. A moment passed as he unlocked the door and swung it open. The ninja looked out, saw nobody, and then looked down to see the medic on her knees, "Hotwire?"

Hotwire looked up at him, "Prowl..." she whispered, and stopped there. She didn't know how to continue, "I... It's still my fault..." She wanted to beg him to help her, but the words sounded so wretched and pathetic in her head. Her grip tightened on the screwdriver she was holding,

After a moment's hesitation, Prowl reached down and pulled Hotwire to her feet, supporting her weight as he gazed into her optics, "Hotwire? What's wrong?" he asked again, seeking clarification.

"I..." Hotwire swallowed, leaning on him, "I had... another dream... everybody was blaming me... they're right... I get them all the time and I always... but you don't think it's right..." It was so easy for her to shove a screwdriver into her arm, and no matter how much it hurt, she never, ever cried, because she knew she deserved it. But now that she was trying to stop herself, tears streamed down her face. She badly wanted to pull free of Prowl and stab at herself just a little bit... not doing it was so hard...

"Slow down,” Prowl replied, wrapping his arms around her, prying the screwdriver out of her grip and dropping it to the floor, "It's alright. Sounds like you just had a really bad nightmare. You're fine now." He rubbed her shoulders gently, trying to comfort the obviously shaken femme as he tried to make sense of what she was saying.

"Don't let go of me..." Hotwire whispered, "I need... I don't want..." she stopped, "I don't know what to do..."

"Don't do anything,” Prowl whispered back, "Just be still." He continued to hold her in the doorway, supporting her weight and letting her cry against his chassis, waiting for the shock to pass.

"It's not that..." Hotwire wept, "It's just... that I never know what to do... I can't help it, I always see both sides, and it's all grey so no matter what I try to do, I always feel wrong... if I knew what was right and wrong, I swear I'd always do the right thing..." she leant against Prowl, "I'm broken, aren't I?"

Prowl couldn't tell what answer she wanted right now, "Maybe a little,” he admitted to her with a smile, "But you worry too much. Choices don't have to be black and white. All you really can do is go with your feelings and hope for the best."

"I don't know..." Hotwire said, still holding onto him, "I don't know what's right... I don't know what's best... I just... just feel like you can help me decide..."

Prowl shook his head, "I can't help you decide everything. You have to be able to decide things for yourself. It's your right as a sentient being, as Optimus might say. I can give you guidance, but your choices are ultimately yours alone."

Hotwire stood there for a long moment, mulling this over as the tears rolled down her cheeks, "Then..." she hesitated, "Then... I think... I’d choose you..." She flushed and looked away quickly as the heat rose to her cheeks. She couldn’t think why Prowl would believe her, though she wanted him to... Primus, she wanted him to! But seriously... she was a malfunctioning, fragged up freak. Why would he believe her when it was obvious even she wasn’t sure?

Prowl paused for a moment, doing his best to comfort her and provide what she sorely needed: a firm presence, an anchor for her troubled spark. Holding her chin carefully, rubbing his thumb along her jaw, he leaned in, lightly kissing her metal lips.

Hotwire continued to cry, but the tears were becoming tears of relief, "I'm so sorry I'm like this," she said softly.

“I think I understand why you want somebody to make choices for you,” Prowl said, “You had a terrible choice to make once, and you blame yourself for it. But you can’t blame yourself if it wasn’t your choice. Can you?”

Hotwire hung her head, ashamed. Prowl had her all figured out, “No...” she agreed.

"You've got nothing to be ashamed of, Hotwire,” he whispered, caressing her slowly, "No matter what anyone else says, you have worth. And you're safe here with me. I promise you that."

Hotwire moved forward, a little further into Prowl's room, and closer to him, "I don't understand any of this," she said quietly, kissing him again, "But for the first time in my whole life, I've got a choice to make... and I can see what I really want to do."

Holding her close, carefully drawing her into his chambers, Prowl asked quietly, "And what is it that you want? What do you choose?"

Hotwire swallowed, "I want..." she flushed again. It was amazing how somebody so much older than him could be so easily embarrassed, "To... be able to rely on you as Bumblebee relies on me... only... differently... closer..." She looked up at Prowl, running one hand over his beautiful black and gold chassis, "Yet I can't understand why somebody like you would even want to touch somebody like me..."

"That's because you don't see your own beauty,” Prowl told her, his fingers running down one arm, "Others may not see it, but I do. I cherish it."

Hotwire remembered being moderately attractive before the accident - not stunning, but certainly not a face to turn down in a hurry. Now was a different matter, of course, "But... the scars-" she said helplessly.

"-are not important,” Prowl interrupted, reaching up to push back the femme's visor, "They mean only one thing; you're a survivor."

Hotwire let him slide it back, smiling. Tears were running down her face again. She never cried, no matter how badly she was insulted or injured or alone. She prided herself on it. But Prowl was bringing those tears right out in another way. She trailed her fingers over his handsome face, "Please," she murmured, "L-" she stopped. The word was difficult, after the mistake she'd made in the past, "Lo-" she swallowed and tried again, "Care for me?"

"I will. I do,” Prowl told her, rubbing her cheek and looking into her green optics. However, as her hands trailed near his visor, the Autobot shifted uncomfortably.

When they were so close, even Hotwire saw it, "What is it?" she asked, "Did I do something wrong? It's because I didn't say that word, isn't it," she said.

"No, no, it's not that..." Prowl said quickly, reaching up to hold her hands, "It's just that... there's a part of my past I don't know how to explain."

Hotwire looked surprised for a moment, "You have a past?" she asked, then a mischievous smirk graced her face, "Oh, you have a ‘Past’. With the capital P and the italics and the quotation marks and everything..." she shrugged, "Well, it can't possibly be any worse than mine."

"Perhaps not. It's still a touchy subject, though,” Prowl admitted. He had always been mysterious, even among his own friends, and the secret that Hotwire was on the verge of discovering was something he shared with no-one, although he was sure that Ratchet suspected it, "You could say that I've been as afraid of removing my visor as you were."

"Why should your appearance matter to me?" Hotwire smiled dryly, "It doesn't change who you are underneath, remember? Maybe you’re horribly scarred? It can’t be worse than mine – you cover less of your face with your visor."

"It's not my appearance that I'm concerned about. Not really,” he told her cryptically, uneasy about telling her directly. He knew her, and he knew that if she wanted to know, she would discover it herself. But if she didn't... she would make her choice, and all would be well.

Hotwire moved further into Prowl's chambers, looking up at his visor, "Oh?" she asked him, "Were you... were you made blind?" she suggested, "I've heard of a few mechs like that who survived the compactor. Or maybe the Autobot production line gave you the wrong colour optics? Swindle's got purple optics, you know. And of course..." she tapped her face, "Mine are green."

"It's not quite that simple,” Prowl told her, gradually releasing her hands. For the first time in ages, the ninja seemed unsure of what to do, "But if you want, you can see me... unmasked. You see...” he slowly reached up, unlocked, and slid back his angular visor. Ruby red optics watched Hotwire, "I was not made on the Autobot production line at all."

The smirk on Hotwire's face froze, and she stared at the glowing red for several seconds, "You were made as a Decepticon?" she asked finally, "You... defected to the Autobots?"

Prowl nodded, "And I wasn't always as disciplined and polite as I am now."

Hotwire’s face unfroze from its initial surprise, "Megatron rewards very highly for defectors," she said, "He likes his soldiers to know exactly how painful it is to betray him. Why did you... How did you even dare to..."

"I know what Megatron does to defectors. I knew that I would never be safe,” he told her, "So I tried to take who I used to be and end him. I wanted to be someone else."

Hotwire's jaw dropped, "That's almost a shame," she said eventually, "Because you know, I would have liked to meet him too." She took Prowl's face in her hands and kissed him passionately for several seconds, "I don't care whose side you were on," she told him eventually, “I don't care whose side you are on. No more than I care whose side I'm on. You're you, and nothing changes that." She kissed him again, and this time she didn't break it to speak.

Prowl held the kiss, and her, to him, closing his optics and melting into their warm embrace. Inwardly, he was smiling; he should have known that it wouldn't matter to Hotwire. Of all people, she should know that the side you were made for did not define you as a person. It was part of what drew him to her.

Hotwire couldn't think of anything else to say, so she continued to kiss Prowl, running her hands down his chassis and stroking his hips with the tips of her fingers. As she kissed him, she ran his unmasked face through her Decepticon data banks, searching for a match, "Barricade," she murmured softly.

"What?" Prowl paused.

"Barricade. That's who you used to be," Hotwire said calmly, “Your old designation.”

Prowl seemed surprised for an instant, but he made no attempt to deny it. "Yes, that was my old name,” he confessed calmly, "I was kind of a spy for the Decepticons. In training."

"See me caring," Hotwire smiled and kissed Prowl again, one hand squeezing at his hips gently, while the other stroked over the sensitive wings on his shoulders.

Prowl felt a thrill run up his spine, a strain in his servos, and he drew her closer to him, giving in to his passions as he kissed her back with increased intensity. Around her, he felt free to let his carefully-conditioned self-control slip away for a precious moment to give in and show the depth of his feelings.

"Mmmm..." Hotwire welcomed the intense passion which Prowl displayed. A whine of pleasure rose up from her chassis, and her plait wound around his slender waist, pulling his hips closer to hers.

Prowl’s hands slid and twisted around her chassis as he passionately kissed her, feeling her curves and edges, the little gaps in her armour. He leaned her back as he supported her weight in his arms, letting his lips draw away from hers and planting small kisses on her neck.

"Prowl... Barricade... whatever..." the hand on Prowl's hips slipped around to stroke against his inner thigh, and Hotwire ran her tongue over his neck slowly, "That feels... so good..." she moaned, before licking his neck again.

Prowl smiled, hearing the loss of control in her voice, the moans of passion escaping her lips. The mech tilted his head back, letting her tongue run across the thin plating of his neck as his hands slid lower onto her hips. Kicking the door to his room shut, he pulled Hotwire further in.

"Oh..." Hotwire felt her gangly hips bump against Prowl's briefly as she struggled to hold on to him tightly. Her slim fingers attempted to pry into seams on his thighs. Oh, this felt so good, being wanted for who she was, instead of who somebody wanted her to be

Prowl rested his hands on her hips, pulling them rhythmically towards his own several times, silently telling her what he wanted. The kiss grew more passionate as he lowered her onto the cot he had set up near the tree in the center of his room, his hunger growing.

Hotwire moaned again, her hands leaving Prowl's hips and moving as far up and down his body as she could reach. She pressed her head back against the bunk, baring her neck. As she writhed in pleasure she could see up past him and into the tree. Primus, Prowl had such wonderful, sensitive ideas... She felt her hips buck again even as her hands moved over him and her pulse quickened.

Raising up slightly, Prowl's hands slid down to Hotwire's hips again. Smiling down at her, the mech began to unlatch the protective plating around her crotch, his lithe fingers sliding into the gaps, teasing her slightly as he undressed the femme. Wondering if anyone had ever called her such, he said, "You're beautiful, Hotwire."

Hotwire's hands stopped in their movements. She couldn't even remember the last time somebody had called her beautiful after actually seeing her scars. She wasn't sure if they ever had. She wasn't quite sure how to respond to those words. But then a layer of plating was gently removed and a brief wave of heady bliss overwhelmed her, before she recovered and looked up into Prowl's red optics again. She trailed her hand down his face, "No..." she gasped out, "You are..."

Prowl kissed her lips gently and rubbed his cheek against hers as he shifted over her, drawing the last piece of plating away from her. The fingers of one hand toyed with her access port as the other began to unlatch his own plating. All the while, he gazed into her green optics, feeling comfortable and free for the first time in ages.

Hotwire would have rather liked to help Prowl with removing his crotch plating, but as he stroked at her port her entire body bucked in pleasure, and her hand gripped his thigh, squeezing it tightly, "Prowl!" she cried out softly.

The sound was music to Prowl's audios. As he continued to stroke and tease Hotwire, he unlatched the final bits of armour plating away from his crotch, leaving him exposed. Normally, he would consider it a moment of vulnerability, but while around her, he simply couldn't feel like he was in danger. His guard was down willingly, and it was a feeling he loved.

"Uh... uh..." Hotwire panted, and managed to collect her calm again, "Oh..." She looked down at Prowl's interface cable, which was swelling up with arousal, and ran the very tip of one clawed finger along the length of it. She sat up slightly, and kissed one audio circuit, "Impressive..." she purred, in a passable imitation of his voice, and smiled mischievously.

For the first time that she could recall, Prowl looked downright sheepish. "Well, I... uh... um... I mean..." he stuttered, trying to find the right response. Giving up, he chuckled softly and kissed her throat as he slid two fingers into her access port, “You’re a tease...”

Hotwire's hips bucked again, and she gasped sharply, "Prowl!" she cried out again, trembling, "That's so... and... so..." She bent her knees and spread her legs wider, venting hard. Her body was trembling and her hands were shaking, but she still managed to rub between his thighs.

Prowl groaned slightly, feeling her cool fingers on his sensitive interface cable. He continued to pleasure her quietly, driving his fingers in and out before he resituated himself on top of the femme. Staring into her optics, his hips bucked forward, pressing the sensitive tip of his cable into her access port. The mech groaned louder, grasping Hotwire's shoulders and trembling.

"Oh! Oh!" Hotwire gasped with pleasure as her hand moved, "It's... been some time..." she gasped, warning him softly, "So I... just... Oh, I don't care, just do it the way you feel is best..."

Prowl took the warning to spark, and made sure to be careful. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Hotwire. He pressed forward, sliding further into her port. A low, prolonged groan left him as he clutched her to him, pressing all the way in, before pulling almost all the way out, the friction stimulating his entire cable.

Hotwire groaned loud, the trembling of her body adding to their pleasure as Prowl continued to thrust deliberately slowly, filling her entire port with each delicious thrust. She spread her knees wider, and pulled his face towards her to kiss him passionately again.

He returned the kiss with equal fervour, his hands gripping her hips to aid his controlled thrusts. His entire body ached with want, and he knew she felt the same. It felt so good that it was almost unbearable, and he began to speed up, putting more force into the thrusts, grunting her name with each spasm of his hips as his cables and sensory bundle became further swollen with desire.

"Oh... oh..." Hotwire moaned a few more times, "Oh, Prowl," she gasped out, "Fuck me... fuck me like a Decepticon!" She gripped him tightly by his hips, pulling him into her hard and fast for emphasis.

It was a rough, guttural command to shut down his higher mind and give in to brutal impulse. It was the very thing Prowl had tried to avoid for years, but hearing this now from Hotwire made his resolve waiver. Growling into her audios, he let Barricade out of the cage briefly. Grabbing her arms roughly, his jaw clamped onto the thin metal of her neck, and he shoved himself into her with a rapid, hammering motion. He growled again, a sound filled with raw passion and aggressive energy, and the former Decepticon took Hotwire hard, pounding into her back and forth like a piston.

He had been worried that Hotwire would change her mind half-way through and scream at him to stop. She didn't. She dug her claws into the metal of the cot, braced her legs, and started bucking her hips against his. The possessiveness, the feeling of being owned... felt so good. And the knowledge that it was a sensitive, gentle and honourable mech who could drill her like this made it even better. She was crying out his name again, louder, and by now it was likely that the entire base could hear it.

Neither of them cared. It was pure passion and energy and pleasure and motion all wrapped up into one moment of no thought; a release from the mundane stresses of regular functioning. Hotwire could feel safe and secure, and Prowl could feel free to let his inner beast out for a short time. It felt wonderful. It felt even better as Prowl reached his peak, crying out loudly, quivering and clutching his lover tight to him, spilling lubricant and electrical discharges deep into her.

Hotwire's cries of pleasure reached a new pitch, "Don't... stop... so... close!" she pleaded with him as her body shook with his discharge, needing just a few more seconds to reach her own peak. His engine growling, Prowl pinned her to the cot and drove into her feverishly, giving her the deep and passionate love she needed.

Hotwire screamed out in pleasure as she overloaded, pressed hard against him. More lubricant spilt inside her, and her own electrical discharge pressed and convulsed around Prowl's cable and against his hips. She wanted to clutch him so tightly, but she was a medic, and got to see and touch what she wanted as a matter of course. Not being able to do so made it more arousing for her.

Prowl held her down through all of her convulsions and spasms of pleasure, waiting until she relaxed before he finally released her, coming down from the peak they had climbed to. His mind began to clear again, Barricade being put back in his cage.

Hotwire sighed. Now her wrists and arms were free once again, she reached up and closed Prowl’s visor back down, concealing those ruby optics. Then she reached down, and eased his satisfying length of cable out of her with a moan. It was still hot and sticky. She ran two fingers from base to tip, coating them with the lubricant, before raising them to her mouth and tasting them with a mischievous smirk.

From under his visor, Prowl watched her do so, the act seeming incredibly erotic to the still aroused mech. He kissed her gently, sliding his tongue into her mouth to taste them both, before rolling onto his side. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held their hips together, enjoying the feeling of her open port rubbing gently against his hot sensory bundle.

Hotwire kissed him on the cheek, "Thanks, Prowl," she murmured softly, wrapping her arms around him and resting her head on his chassis, feeling for the first time in ages, at peace.

"Oh no, thank you,” Prowl replied softly, holding her lovingly to him, an expression of exhausted bliss on her face. She slipped into recharge soon enough, but his body still desired hers, and so, not wanting to hurt Hotwire or waken her, he slid his cable back into her slick port slowly and gently, savouring the warmth and gentle pressure.

Hotwire just sighed contentedly, undisturbed, and Prowl lay there within her, holding his lover to him. It all felt so right... so good... He wanted to stay here like this forever, although he knew it wasn't possible. But perhaps they could lay together long enough.

~~~~

Meanwhile, in another room, Bumblebee was hugging his knees. He had NOT wanted to hear all of that. It filled him with anger at that... Decepticon! Why had he never told anyone? Not even his friends? The young mech felt like performing an energon purge, he felt so ill. He wanted to scrub himself until his paintjob was scratched up. Most of all, he wanted to get Hotwire away from that liar. He could see now what Dirge meant; Prowl was a liar, a manipulator, and a deceiver. He knew there had to be something wrong with him, the way he was always so stuck up and arrogant. Well, now he just had to think of something to do about it...

~~~

Harley: Well, now I’m back on a regular schedule. Don’t really blame people for not reviewing after that long stint away. Hey, I’m now writing something in TMNT (comics). Now none of us here particularly like humans – hell, chances are most of you have been furries at some point – so if TMNT is something you like too, why not check it out? I don’t have any reviews there yet...
- 20
- 21
- 22
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Becoming Mama Bear