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In the palm of my hand

Summary:

An au where Sentinel never died and was instead banished from Cybertron. Earth becomes his new home and so do you.

Notes:

Special shout out to my lovely beta reader I love you and thank you for convincing me to write this (although it took very, VERY little convincing). Anyways I have been on the Sentinel Prime love-hate train since I first saw the movie so this isn't the last you'll see of him. Never in my life did I think I would write for Transformers, specifically smut, but here we are <3 love to see another childhood interest rekindled. Please enjoy!

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Whenever you thought of aliens, you were thinking of those little green guys that you see on shirts or the black dinosaur-looking things in the original Alien movies.

What you were not expecting was a giant robot with a blue and gold coloration and the ability to speak English and feel emotion.

You don’t really remember how you and Sentinel came to be, what you do remember is that he was banished from his planet for doing something “morally wrong”. At least that’s how he described it.

Sentinel had killed enough of your kind before he met you, claiming he didn’t like any of the organisms on this planet. Everything was so small to him, so fragile, and so ugly. You question what else he’s killed with his time on your planet.

Well his time here which you thought was short–he said something about going to a different planet because he hated it here–ending up being very long. He even admitted to taking a liking to something on this planet, and that something was you.

“My little fragile human,” he would call you, “I’m afraid to even lay a finger on you.”

He hated everything else except you, you became his reason for staying. You wondered what was so special about you that was worth staying for, especially on a planet he hates.

Luckily for you, you lived across from an abandoned hayloft. The joys of living in the country, nobody will disturb you. It was the perfect hiding spot for him, you could cover him with tarp during the day if you so pleased.

At night it was different, you would even sleep in there sometimes to keep him company. You had a makeshift bed in there for a while until you got an air mattress. Normally you’d be afraid of sleeping so exposed, anything could happen, but with Sentinel there you felt much safer.

His fascination with you was what you found weird. Calling yourself crazy, but it seemed much more romantic than platonic. It didn't seem like he was interested in becoming friends with you, or at least that's what you thought. He refers to you as his human. My human. He would always say. Every time it sounded so possessive.

You felt like some pet at first, or maybe he was the pet. You didn't really know the roles in this weird relationship. However in all honesty you felt more like an insect trapped in the hands of a child. An insect that will eventually die to the child, but during its time alive it either gets taken care of or abused. In Sentinel’s case, he took care of you.

If it wasn’t his words or questions that showed any kind of fascination, you could tell by his eyes. Bright blue optics studying you, scanning your body whenever he gets the chance. He’ll hold you in his palm and bring you up to his face just to look at you. At first it creeped you out, but you slowly grew to tolerate it. It was almost a form of admiration and then he would ruin it by mentioning how easily he could squash you like some pesky bug. Sometimes he would even do it while you were sleeping, which you never noticed until you woke up one night to shining blue light on your face.

Sentinel told you all about his world and you told him all about yours, especially warning him to not be seen by anyone, including the military. He likes to put you on his shoulder or near his head so you can read stories to him. You noticed that he likes to comment on every single chapter once you're done. Most of the time making fun of the characters or you.

However, Sentinel has grown bored of this planet. Never being able to leave the hayloft, just him and his thoughts all day, or whatever animal wandered into the place. He cut a hole into the roof of the hayloft to stare at the stars, an attempt to try and entertain himself. Unfortunately it wasn’t enough, he decided that you would be his only form of entertainment. Because you were all he had.

You remember the night it happened, probably forever seared into your memory as it was embarrassing and humiliating. It was warm outside and you had a tough day at work, all you wanted to do was relax, lay in bed. But you wanted to spend time with Sentinel since you bought some polish for him since he complained about being dusty and his colors going dull.

While you were polishing his head, arms and legs growing tired and sore, he had mentioned something about you. “My sensors are telling me you're stressed,” he says suddenly, confident as always but not in the usual way that would annoy you.

“Looks like you're getting pretty good at detecting human emotion,” you respond, continuing to polish a specific spot, “this would be so much easier if you were in your little vehicle mode.”

“I spent a lot of time researching humans,” he says, suddenly grabbing you and dangling you in front of him, “I got access to your computer. There were some things you wouldn't tell me, so really you left me no choice.” You drop all the things you had in your hands, watching them clatter to the floor far below you. “You were so bored you actually wanted to learn about me?” You tease, he sets you down on his palm, “cute, but I don't want you going to the house anymore especially in this form.” You beckon to his body with your hands and his optics follow your movements, “someone could see you.”

“Hmm,” he hums, his thumb pushing into your stomach, making you lay against his palm, “I doubt I’ll be seen.” He tilts his hand so you are in full view, his large thumb starts to rub against your stomach, occasionally lifting up your shirt. “What’re you doing?” You ask timidly, staring at his focused face. Your tone was light hearted, joking almost until you felt his thumb press between your legs, making you spread your legs by force. “Sentinel-“

“You humans are so soft,” he says with a flat tone, “and so sensitive.” Such a large thing being so gentle with you made something deep inside you churn. He was like a gentle giant except you know he wasn’t. He was the opposite of that, but he was only gentle with you, because you were his human. Such a fragile little thing, he has to treat you like so.

“Warm,” he says, tone lowering a bit as his thumb rubs against your heat. For some reason you don’t even protest, you allow him to do what he wants. You could feel your heart racing, questioning what he was doing mentally. Your breath hitches when he rubs again, soft little gasps escaping your mouth as pleasure starts to build up inside you.

“Feeling less stressed?” He practically coos, watching your conflicted expression as you let him feel you up. He was toying with you, there was no way he wasn’t. He knew exactly what he was doing. “You’re an asshole sometimes,” you breathe, face flushed from the stimulation, but you couldn’t deny how much you needed something like this. Your head rests back against his palm, brows furrowed from your embarrassment. It was shameful that you were liking this.

“I know you’re enjoying this,” he smiles, more like a coy smirk, “I can smell it, feel it. I can see it.” He uses his other hand to slide his pinky under your shirt, completely ripping it off your body. You yelp, immediately trying to cover yourself but he doesn’t let you, using his thumb to push you open again. He studies you for a moment, the electronic whirl of his optics gazing over your body. He hums in approval or interest, you couldn’t really tell.

A soft moan slips out your mouth, closing your eyes as he continues to rub his thumb between your legs. His interest seems to be piqued at the sound, that same egotistical smile on his face as if he did something he should be proud of. “You humans and your noises,” he coos, pressing against you a little harder. He had to admit to himself, that was the cutest sound you’ve ever made. “Why can't you sound that sweet all the time?”

He presses his thumb into you a little bit harder now, more aggression behind his movement. The pain made you yelp but it slowly shifted into pleasure. You give in, unbuttoning your jeans and trying to tug them down until you feel them remove completely off your body. The leg of your jeans pinched between his fingers, which he disregards quickly.

He brings his hand up to rub his pointer finger over your panties, optics lingering on the blue color. You lift your hips pulling those off as well and letting them fall to the ground below you. Almost immediately as soon as you're free you start to grind against his thumb, the coolness of the metal makes you shutter, a whimper slipping off your tongue. You notice he’s careful not to apply any intense pressure but just enough so that it feels good, however at this point you're doing all the work by yourself. A part of you thinks if he was human, he would only care about his own pleasure, but the way he's been taking care of you has you thinking otherwise.

There’s something amusing about this, maybe it was how desperate you were or how your face was contorted with pleasure or the soft whimpers and moans coming off your lips. Whatever it was he found it entertaining, and he wanted more of it.

You were a little embarrassed but you couldn’t stop yourself. Your lips parted as you continued to grind against the pad of his thumb, he would occasionally move his thumb in time with you as well. You held onto one of his other fingers for support, hands going numb from how tight you were holding on.

“Sa—Sentinel,” you stutter, tears prickling at your eyes. Your mouth hangs open when you try to grind against him faster, pressing all your weight into the pad of his thumb. “P-Please press harder,” you beg, opening your eyes slightly to see him. He chuckles, wings perking up slightly. “Such a pathetic little thing,” he purrs teasingly, ”so desperate.”

He complies to your request anyways, pressing a little harder into your core and earning a choked up sob from you. “Feels so good,” you whimper, closing your eyes as a few salty tears fall down your face. He makes a sound of amusement, tilting his head. If he knew you would be like this, he would've done this earlier.

The size difference makes your head hurt, a part of you believes that this isn't possible, perhaps you were dreaming. You wonder just how bad it would hurt if he even slipped the tip of his pinky inside you, the stretch would be uncomfortable, you're afraid that wouldn't even feel good. The sight of his thumb on you, and how much bigger it is than you makes you bite your tongue, grinding your hips faster. You feel yourself getting closer, the knot in your stomach slowly starting to unravel, your orgasm building up.

“I could break you so easily, you know that?” he teases, moving you closer to his face, “such an easy thing to kill and yet here you are making a mess of yourself in my hand. How pitiful.” His words easily enough draw you closer to the edge, the meanness in his voice you liked for some reason and you never thought you would. It was humiliating, truly. He seemed to notice your reactions every time he spoke, another smile decorated his face.

“My poor little human,” he coos, moving his thumb for you now, “getting so tired aren't we? It's adorable really. Wish you could see yourself right now.” Your back arches off his palm when your orgasm runs through you. Broken sobs and moans of pleasure spill out of you like a waterfall, your whole body shudders and convulses in his hand. Your release paints the pad of this thumb, but he keeps rubbing you through it until you're shaking, whining mess.

He pulls his thumb away, looking at your release glisten in the light of his optics before he looks at you again. “Poor thing,” he clicks his tongue, rubbing your body with his thumb again and smearing your release on the skin of your stomach, “I could do that to you for hours.”

You struggle to catch your breath, feeling as if the wind was just knocked out of you. You keep your eyes closed, mouth open while you suck in sharp breaths, body still shaking from your orgasm. You can feel his optics on you, blue light shining on your skin. Slowly you open your eyes, looking up at him with a tired expression. He's smiling like he's proud of himself and amused by your current state. “Are you satisfied?” you ask him, narrowing your eyes. You try to stand in his palm but end up falling on your ass, your legs still shaking from the tremors of your orgasm. “Very,” he answers, “and I know you are too.”