"You ran straight into active traffic?" Preceptor removed her visor optics narrowed at you

You shifted a little on your pedes your faceplates focused on the ground if front of you. Even with a monotone and robotic voice, Preceptor still managed to sound furious.

"Hey! Ease up on the kid a little!" Wheeljack protested, "She at least gathered good data for you about making split-second decisions!"

Preceptor shot him a hard glare, "Even so, that was an ill thought out decision that could had detrimental consequences."

You shifted again playing with your digits. You felt as small and meek as a sparkling, and Preceptor was rightfully angry at you. You didn't mean to cause such a tizzy, it just kinda happened.

But you could still feel the thrill you got when racing, the startling rate of your spark when you sliced through and took the lead. The tingle of your pedes.

and Blurr...

You just couldn't figure out how you really felt about the light blue mech. He made your spark swell in your chassis with emotion you've never experienced before. You just wanted to know what was going on and way you had such a warm and fuzzy feeling for such a bitter mech.

Finally your attention was pulled from your thoughts by Preceptor's voice.

"(y/n). Go to your dorm." She ordered obviously annoyed.

You were quick to follow that order and sleek off to your "dorm". It was much less a dorm and more of a plush status pod. You plopped yourself into the hollow tube and slide close the door.

You slipped your servo onto a nearly invisible open seam in the plush padding and pulled out a small box. You opened it.

It didn't hold much, just a few simple things. A few trinkets that mean something to you. There was a small flash disk you stole, it was filled to the brim with pictures you've taken of bots. You picked it up and connected it to the outlet right under your jaw.

You watched as today's imagines load up before your optics you couldn't help the smile at each one. You didn't know half the bots in your images, but it made you feel good.

You liked to create stories behind each bot. You liked to wonder what their lives were, who they were going to visit.

If they had normal lives...

Lives beyond test tubes and needles.

Lives filled with sweets and adventure and that warm feeling you got when you saw Blurr.

You liked to imagine you were one of those bots. Happy and joyous. Or glum and sad. But anything that wasn't like the life you had was one you wished to have.

You paused on the image of Blurr. You studied it. Taking in the frozen moment of determination of the look on his face as he ran. Your spark swelled.

Cute...

You vented and closed your optics and let the download continue through each of the photos. You reached into your subspace and pulled out one of the sweets from earlier. You allowed your visor off and popped the sweet into your intake.

You stroked down from your derma as you continued to ponder about Blurr. Your frame warmed as unfamiliar and unused protocols started to boot up. You bit your derma a little bit thighs rubbing against each other as a heat bloomed under your plating.

You snapped your visor down over your optics. You pulled up what ever images you had of Blurr. Your thighs pressed together hard, and a servo mindlessly stroked over your chassis.

You didn't know how this feeling was, but it was nice but at the same time UNBEARABLE!

There was a voice in a deep corner of your processor. It cooed and purred softly on and on about what a good lover a bot such as Blurr would be, about he would be able to keep up with you.

In several ways.

You swallowed back a whimper suddenly this pod seemed like a heated torture chamber. You were confused and from what you could only guess, aroused.

You've only read about sexual arousal and interface itself from not-so-reliable sources. But this was generally how it started out.

A pining femme alone with her horny thoughts only to have the big-spiked mech to swoop in and solve that problem.

But this was reality, not one of those raunchy sex-stories.

Was it?