PAIRING: Megatron/OC

First off, I'm not sure exactly what you would classify these as. They could be considered random drabbles, but some might be considered too long, and they're all kinda connected to eachother one way or another. Hmmm... I'm not actually sure. These will mainly be about Megatron/OC and each chapter may or may not relate to one another, but other pairings with different characters may appear every so often. Just so you're warned, this has absolutely no plot at all. It was just me, boredom, and my inability to stay committed to a single storyline.

It's basically just a bunch of Oneshots. If you have any suggestions, feel free to share.

Enjoy.

There were few things in life that Megatron truly loved: war, power, his throne and, most importantly, his mate. In relation to the first one, it was no secret that the Decepticon leader held an almost unprecedented amount of bloodlust, although the fact that he ate the sparks of fallen heroes was not such a well-known fact. Still, the devouring of sparks meant more power... and power was another one of his greatest loves. There was nothing more satisfying than knowing that there was an entire army out there that submitted to your hand and your hand alone, which led him on to the next thing; his throne. It was a symbol of power within itself, and an object Megatron enjoyed being seated upon. For any other to sit upon it meant almost certain death, sometimes in the most painful and excruciating ways, depending on the creative mood of the Decepticons and how bored Megatron was.

And then, finally, there was that femme.

She embodied at least one of his other great loves, her fairly submissive nature playing along well with his own need for dominance and power over others. Not to mention her effectiveness on the battlefield, at least when she was in the air and well out of the way of being overpowered by the sheer brute strength some of her opponents held. Of course she had her own flaws and they did have their occasional moments, but Megatron did not see this as a reason to think of her as anything less than perfect. Every argument was won by him, and he was obviously the dominant one of their relationship... what more could he ask for? Whether or not she returned the same satisfaction over their relationship, he did not know, and he didn't entirely care either. It's not like she had a choice, and having relations with the leader of the Decepticon faction was always going to have repercussions.

Another great thing about the Seeker that was his mate? Her wings. Megatron was positively obsessed with the sensitive apendages, often amusing himself by playing with them to see what kind of new sounds he could draw out of her. They were beautiful in their own right, and there was nothing more entertaining than watching them reflect the femme's own inner turmoil and feelings. Megatron felt as if he'd become quite a bit of a master when it came to reading the wings of Seekers through observing her own, and it became quite useful when he applied the knowledge he learnt from her own wing signals to Megatron's less-than-loyal Second-in-Command.

So it could be said that, at that given point in time, Megatron was doing all of his favourite things: sitting in his throne, monitoring his subordinates that were working tirelessly for his victory in war, whilst watching what appeared to be a beyond-bored femme Seeker. She was displaying all the classic signs- tapping her digits against the surface of the desk before her in some random tune, hand curled into a fist with her head resting upon it, wings twitching away restlessly upon her back. Megatron could've dismissed her long ago, but where would the fun in that be? Her misery (of sorts) was his own entertainment, and if he had given her permission to leave earlier then he would've ended up being the one that was bored. No, it was much better this way.

The only ones left in the room were him, her and Soundwave, who had been diligently working away for hours on end now. Starscream had left quite awhile beforehand, muttering something about going through some aerial drills with his trinemates. Megatron would bet his leadership that, if he went looking, he would actually find the Seeker recharging away on his berth, or trying to woo that new grounder Megatron had noticed him watching for the past few months.

He was snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of movement, optics sliding upwards to see that it was his own femme who had dared to get to her feet. Leaning back in his seat, he let out a small growl of warning as she made to leave, one that caused her to stop in her tracks. She shot him a frustrated look as if to say "You've got to be kidding me," but Megatron merely narrowed his optics as if daring her to object. Defeated, she threw herself back into her seat with an exasperated sigh, giving him a filthy look as she did so. Even though he was looking right at her, Megatron made no move to acknowledge the look, instead fixing her with a blank expression.

He knew... he knew what boredom did to Seekers mentally, and what a dreaded emotion it was for them. They lived an active life, often flaunting themselves through daring and spectacular aerial maneuveres, and it came as no surprise that the majority of them were absolute thrill-seekers. To sit around doing nothing was absolute torture for them, possibly hated almost as much as small spaces. Megatron knew it, and more importantly his mate knew that he knew it, meaning she had no qualms or fears of openly expressing her agitiation and resulting irritation with him. Soundwave cast them a glance out of the corner of his optics, but otherwise paid them no heed, continuing to relentlessly type away at his panel.

The femme and mech's relationship was probably not well-known. Megatron did not tend to go around advertising that he had a relationship with a femme, and she likewise did not go around advertising that she and her leader held any kind of affections for one another. Both had their reasons; Megatron because he didn't think it anyone else's business if he was, and her because others may think that she was only where she was because the leader had a thing for her. Some, like Soundwave, could probably guess, but if they were smart enough to figure it out they were also smart enough not to go around gossiping about their leader and his previously-thought non-existent love life.

Time ticked by, marked only by the sound of Soundwave typing away. As amusing as it was to watch his restless mate suffer, Megatron would not deny he was pleased when Soundwave finally did leave the room, effectively leaving the pair... alone.

Megatron could not help but grin when she didn't move, instead continuing to glare at the monitor before her and making it blatantly obvious that she was ignoring him. It merely increased his amusement with the situation, and he slid off his throne to casually approach the Seeker femme. If she heard the sound of his footsteps, she didn't acknowledge it, and her wings sat rigid on her back. It was these appendages that Megatron addressed first, extending an arm to smoothly run a claw down one of the fine sheets of metal, yet still she did her stubborn best to ignore the mech. The only indication that she'd felt the motion was the small twitch of the wing and the deepening of her scowl as she glared at the blank monitor before her. Knowing very well that she would not snap his head off in fear of getting her own permenantely detatched from the rest of her body, the same hand that was trailing down her wing now boldy grasped the base, and Megatron grinned at the flickering motion it made in response.

He used it as leverage to pull himself closer to her, his chestplate now flush against her back, and he dipped his head to growl excitedly in her audio receptor. The shiver that ran through her body would've been imperciptable to the untrained mech, but Megatron was well accustomed to it. Encouraged, he slid his other hand around to stroke her abdomen, causing the desired effects. She leaned forwards, trying to escape the wandering hand and keep it away from the sensitive plating on her abdomen, effectively pushing herself back into Megatron. The tyrant tilted his head to the side, leaning it against the side of her own helm, and let out an entertained purr at her predictable actions.

"My, my, Airstrike. If I knew you were so eager..." he trailed off, letting the implication hang in the air, devious grin still firmly fixed upon his faceplate.

The femme, Airstrike, squirmed uncomfortably in his hold and chose not to honour that remark with a spoken reply. Instead she grasped the wrist of the hand that was stroking her abdomen and tried to forcibly push it away, glaring at Megatron from the corner of her optics. He could have kept his arm there, Primus knew that Megatron's strength was greater than her own, but he mercifully allowed it to be removed. However, to make up for it, he placed that same hand on the inside of her thigh, the other one going back to tracing patterns on her wings. The mischevious glint in his optics was pretty much unmistakeable, and Airstrike absently wondered what someone would think if they happened to walk in now. Regardless, she was still annoyed with him, and she wasn't going to give in to his will that easily.

"You," she growled, yanking her head away from his own when he began nibbling on her audio receptor, "are still not in my good books."

"Mmm... that's a pity, isn't it?" Megatron replied absently, almost as if he didn't particularly care, and bowed his head to instead attack her neck.

Airstrike tried to shove him away again, but this time Megatron didn't comply, remaining firmly where he was and continuing his ministrations. This made her nervous for a moment, briefly wondering whether or not Megatron had tired of her resistance, but the low chuckle that sounded near her audio receptor told her otherwise. She relaxed slightly at this, and the movement of her wings was mistaken by the Decepticon leader as an indication that she was giving over to him. His touches became slightly more insistent, but before he could go too far Airstrike had spun around in her chair, not returning the actions as he might've expected but instead giving him a scolding look.

"What?" he asked, sounding a touch annoyed.

"In the throne room? Really?"

"You weren't objecting when it was in Soundwave's quarters."

The femme Seeker made a choking noise at that, looking a touch embarrassed at that reminder and the boldness of his words. She would've thought, or rather hoped, that Megatron would have the decency not to mention that in a public place, particularly when there was the possibility that Soundwave might overhear... who knew what kind of microphones or cameras he could have hidden within the place. And she really didn't want to know what he'd do to her if he found out (Not to Megatron, obviously. There was no way that goody-two-shoes would ever think of laying a hand against Megatron. Airstrike, however, was fair game).

Despite her negative reaction, Megatron seemed as impassive as ever, his expression blank yet spelling out his displeasure at the interruption all the same. It was a pity he wasn't as affected by the words as she was.

"That-uh-er-That was different!" she spluttered, looking very much similar to the human comparison of a deer caught in headlights, "I didn't have a choice."

That last part was more for Soundwave in case he was listening, though Airstrike doubted it would do much to quell his potential fury. The only down point was that this also supplied Megatron with a means of rebuttal.

"And you're not getting a choice now," he snarled, looking fed up, and taking a forceful step closer towards her.

His claw-like hands pushed into her wings, forcing her backwards onto the monitor she'd recently been working at. For a brief moment the femme considered resisting, but in the end she knew it wouldn't be worth it. Megatron had never raped her per say- a fact exemplified by the fact that he wasn't using as much strength as he could to get her back on the monitor- but he still had a short temper, and she didn't remember a time that she'd been exempt to his fury. So, rather than piss him off and face the possible damage to certain parts of her anatomy, she relented and wrapped her arms around his neck lovingly, reaching her head up to place a light kiss on his lips. A triumphant growl left his throat, and that meaningless "light" kiss was abruptly turned into something much more hungry and dominating.

Nobody said being in a relationship with the warlord was going to be easy.