#he be sparklin

[stvrmaker]

This is the yarn of a killer Bella.

Crying a bit because photographing today I realized my phone can’t really capture the fact that i used a special yarn for Edwards skin so he literally sparkles in the sun 😭 Please just believe me.

[jiminiecrickets]

HONEY POT. PJM / KTH / M!READER

summary. there's something wrong with the popular kids at this small-town high school. something deeply, viscerally, hauntingly wrong...

wc. 8.8k

tags. smut | top!reader, bottom!tae, switch!jimin, jimin in skirts and heels, voyeurism, multiple orgasms, biting, spitroasting, brief daddy kink (r. receiving), gratuitous blood/gore, blood as lube (from another wound), cultism & religious fervour, cannibalism, murder

note. happy halloween!! i began this in early august to be on time, but uh, we know how that turned out :')

"—and i was like, no, that isn't how this works! i'm literally the best he's ever had, why would he ever wanna break up with me? i even bought him that stupid walkman he kept whining about and he still went and cheated on me and then tried to dump me. me! how could he?"

"well, he was already on his way to being a forty-year-old junkie who lives in a trailer park and hates life. he could've had so much with you. he'll realise how much he messed up – he'll get his karma."

"i know, i know... you're right. i just wish he could've been nicer. could've saved us both the trouble."

jimin lifts his soft dark eyes from his pink handheld mirror. he smacks his glossy lips and shuts the mirror with a clack, crossing his legs the other way and leaning back against the steps of the steel bleachers. he glances up at taehyung, who sits one step above him.

dressed in a cropped, pale pink shirt and blue jeans, taehyung fans his hot face with chunky rings on each finger, eyes lifted to the sky in a futile effort to hold back tears. jimin had already helped him redo his makeup in the bathroom, and this wasn't the first time taehyung had cried over a boy. poor thing just had too big of a heart – he wasn't made for modern boys and their vices.

jimin sucks on his teeth and sighs, turning forwards to lord over the verdant grassy field, where the senior boys are engaged in tryouts for college football teams. "don't worry, honey. we'll find the right one for you eventually. maybe try an athlete? the artsy ones are always such snobs."

"oh, they aren't all that bad, really," taehyung mumbles, patting the corners of his damp eyes lightly. "anyway, they all want you, not me. they're not into anyone who isn't a cheerleader."

"you're being silly. they just don't think you're interested – you keep rejecting them." jimin scours the field, tucking his dark hair behind his ear. a diamond stud flashes under the sun. he reaches out and touches taehyung's knee, leaning in for secrecy he doesn't need. "how about that one?"

"he called me a sour bitch. no."

"and that one?"

"he made me do all the work on a paired project and took my ninety-eight for himself. no."

jimin purses his lips, eyes flickering between their faces, warm and shining under the sun. all around, they looked quite similar – all fairly muscular, with the same lazy grins. not bad for eye-candy, he supposes, but taehyung is a romantic, which is how anyone he dates manages to bury themselves so deeply in his heart.

motion by the changing rooms on the other side of the field. jimin's eyes flick over naturally, and they widen.

strong, handsome, and, most importantly, taehyung is already looking at him.

he keeps his watchful gaze discreet, following the figure as he crosses the field and joins the coach to speak with him briefly. he is handed a football, which he tosses and spins in his hands a few times, and the coach gathers a few lounging boys to help out.

they spread out, and the tryout begins.

jimin isn't an expert on the game, only knows the basics, but he knows how to read a man – and the coach is clearly impressed by what he sees. jimin observes quietly, crossing his legs and uncrossing them, as he runs circles around the rest of the boys, leaving them far in the dust.

at last, when the boys are huffing and puffing with their hands on their heads and the cute one takes his time wandering back to the coach – after meeting jimin's eyes for a quick, sparkling second – jimin turns his head in taehyung's direction.

"what about... that one?"

taehyung huffs, pressing his knees together and resting his elbows on them. jimin doesn't mention how his gaze flicks to his shoes before meeting jimin's, almost as if he didn't want to be caught looking. he gives the footballer a once-over, then inspects his nails. "too tall."

jimin watches him push back his cuticles with his thumbnail, those thick dark lashes brushing his fine cheekbones. his prettiness makes him a honeypot for invariably bad people, and though jimin feels for him, he can't say he wants him to stop trying. everyone has their place in the world – even cheaters and liars. taehyung's relationships make it easier to weed them out for proper atonement.

"are you sure?" jimin asks carefully, tilting his head. "he looks like just your type."

"i don't have a type," taehyung sighs. "if i did, it'd make finding people that much harder."

eventually, jimin hums, and turns away to watch the tryouts.

out of sight, taehyung's shoulders slump slightly, and he exhales shakily. he nibbles on the edge of his nail as his eyes follow a figure lifting a water bottle to his lips. his sweat-shining throat bobs as he swallows rapidly, and a trickle of water escapes from the corner of his lips; it trails down his neck to soak into the collar of his shirt. he wipes it away without much thought. taehyung presses his thighs together.

suddenly, jimin turns back to him, propping his chin on his palm. his eyes are big and innocent as he asks, "hey, tae? you know that ex we were talking about earlier? i want his address."

"o-oh, um – just to make him sorry, right?"

"yeah. he will be."

taehyung swallows. "yes. okay. is it bad that i feel... that i pity him?"

jimin giggles, sweet and high like a bell. he squeezes taehyung's knee. "you're my best friend. i'm not going to let anyone get away with hurting you. you know that."

"mhm, i know. just make sure nobody sees you, alright? i don't want you getting in trouble for vandalism or something."

"oh, my charges would definitely include more than petty vandalism, but you know me – i cannot be caged!" he jumps to his feet and stretches high above his head, his shirt riding up to expose a sliver of pure, unblemished skin. the way he scrunches his nose slightly makes taehyung's heart flutter.

he exhales softly as his neck cracks, and he flashes taehyung a quick smile as he packs up his pin-studded messenger bag and slings it over his shoulder. "you can give me his address after school, but don't leave it too late. don't forget about the curfew. i have to go for now, but you make sure you take care of yourself, okay? if you feel too sad to study, i'm sure my mother would let you go home early if you asked."

taehyung hums and nods, leaning forward on the bench as jimin skips down the bleachers until his ivory pumps make a satisfying clack on the concrete base. "your nepo-baby status is really helpful sometimes, y'know?"

jimin beams, his eyes crinkling to crescents. "i know! see you around, honey. love you!"

"love you," taehyung echoes, and watches him go. his all-white outfit makes him as bright as the moon, and just as breathtaking. effortlessly, he carves a path through the crowds like moses and the red sea, perfectly oblivious to the power he wields over them all.

taehyung sighs and turns back to watch the tryouts, and that one special player right in the middle. just as he wishes you'd come and cheer him up, you glance over, grass stains on your shorts and a new bruise on your knee. as you meet his gaze, the biggest grin splits your face. you wave with your whole arm and taehyung giggles to himself, hiding his warm cheeks behind his knuckles as he lifts one shy hand.

his heart races. for you, he'll keep up this masquerade. this was a dangerous neck of the woods, and he wouldn't let anything steal you away – not even jimin.

he's waiting patiently for you at the edge of the field when you finally manage to break off from your mates. his slim fingers dance lightly over your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. as quickly as his touch arrives, it vanishes, his arms once more wrapped around his body like a hug.

"hey," he greets softly.

"hey yourself," you reply, amusement light on your tongue. "i saw you earlier. i hope you didn't get bored watching me chase after a ball like a dog."

he huffs. "what are you saying? dogs are cute. you were cute. i like seeing you bound across the field – you make for some especially tasty eye-candy, sweating and panting like that."

"do i, now?" you say playfully, leaning against the steel fence. he leans in too, matching your smile with a pretty, half-bitten one of his own. his lashes flutter as you tease a kiss, the tip of your nose brushing his cheek. "next thing i know, you'll be begging to lick me up."

he clicks his tongue, turning away from your almost-kiss in half-assed defiance. "tch. here i am, trying to be sweet, and you ruin it all. boys like you have only one thing on their minds."

"hey, you started it! besides, are you telling me you wouldn't wanna taste of my lollipop?" you smirk, gazing at his side profile. he's drop dead gorgeous, all full lips and big eyes, and you could easily while away your days doing nothing but admiring the symmetry of his features.

taehyung rolls his eyes, but there's no heat to it. he sniffs. "you wish. you wouldn't last long enough to enjoy the view."

you place a hand over your heart. "careful, pretty boy, or you and your mean insults could remain part of me for a long, long time. words hurt, you know?"

"what do i have to be careful for? you like me too much to do any lasting damage to me. it's nice, really. nice to know you love me – in your own, silly little way." he pokes your chest, and you catch his hand in yours and lift his knuckles to your lips. the ghost of a kiss shivers over his skin.

"silly?" you parrot, returning his hand to him with a knowing look. you rest your hip against the top of the chain-link fence, casting a glance casually over the field. "you think my acts of love are silly?"

taehyung hums, leaning over and grasping your chin. he turns your face towards him. "'sweet', then – that's probably a better word for it. none of my exes ever did what you do for me. not even close. i'm sorry, baby – please don't pout."

"i'm glaring, actually," you huff. "this is my glaring face."

"don't, you'll get wrinkles," taehyung chides. he glances around, and swiftly, like a little bird, flits up on his toes to press his lips against your cheek. in the blink of an eye, he settles back into place on his side of the fence. he sighs, and a sudden weight slumps his shoulders. you straighten, turning towards him properly.

"he noticed you," he says, his voice lower than usual. "pointed you out to me as a potential boyfriend."

the smile you were wearing drops like a stone. "he did?"

taehyung doesn't trust himself to speak; he nods instead, staring at his shoes.

"well," you say, at a loss for words. "i mean, he's tiny. what's he gonna do to me?"

his head snaps up and the intensity of his gaze catches you off-guard. "don't underestimate him. you can't. he – he can do more than hurt you. he'll ruin you.

"no, no – don't roll your eyes," he snaps. "i know, i sound paranoid, but you haven't even been here for six months. you haven't seen what i've seen." his focus flickers to your surroundings, and he seems uncomfortable even when he leans in to whisper. "please. keep away from him, don't tell anyone about us, and for the love of god, stop visiting my house after curfew. he's whip-smart – he notices it once, he'll catch on like that." he snaps his fingers. "also, we have a change of plans. mark's off the table – jimin wants him."

at that, the corners of your mouth turn down. you cross your arms. "not if i get there first."

"baby – baby, look at me. you can't risk it."

"fuck," you hiss between your teeth. you clear your throat and wipe the expression off your face, flawless neutrality taking its place. it still simmers under your skin, but it's always easier to sweep something under the rug than clean it up. "fine. i can bring a friend over tonight instead. it'll be easy enough – these sheep will follow me anywhere. we can... have him for dinner."

taehyung's eyes glimmer, the hint of a smile playing at his lips. the worry's sloughed off his shoulders for now, and that's as good as you can hope. "i've always loved your lamb steaks. i've been waiting for this – for you. i'll be at yours by seven sharp."

"wear your pretty clothes," you hum almost offhandedly as you survey your fellow students. there's not a care in the world in those empty heads. "something black – and sexy."

taehyung flicks his bangs out of his eyes. "everything i wear is sexy. you'd do well to remember that."

"yes, dear."

—

his hands shake. that oil-heat, sweat-sheen, bone-crunch. his breath rattles through his lungs like the tongue of a too-small bell.

the weight of the kitchen knife in his hand is too much – he lifts it, and it tilts forward dangerously, trembling in his red-wet palm. the silver glimmers and flickers under the yellow shed lights.

a warmth behind him, a sturdy presence – tender hands slide down his arms, tracing him from collarbone to wrist like a delicate porcelain doll. they fold around his slim fingers, big scarred knuckles too worn to be a boxer's – they wear gloves for protection.

"split the skin shallow, so you don't pierce the meat," you murmur, your breath hot against his ear. you guide his hands with your own, slowly pressing down until the pop of released pressure signifies the beginning of the cut. "all the way down, just like that... good. you slip the knife under the skin and peel it back, making a scything or slicing motion to cut the membrane. long, slow strokes to control the angle of the blade. you want the meat nice and lean."

the night is still and silent outside, not a cricket or dog to be heard. the rushing of taehyung's pulse is loud enough for them all. he can feel your excitement against him – the quickened breathing, the thudding heart, the hitched gasp when his grip tightens on the knife and steadies.

"perfect," you croon in his ear, an undercurrent of a growl echoing beneath your words. "take your time. i want your first time to be..."

you shift against him, and he feels something prod his backside. he bites down on the inside of his cheek to silence himself and takes a deep, shaky breath, pressing down with the knife. sinew and muscle part easily under the sharpened blade.

"it's easier," he whispers, barely a breath, "than i thought it would be."

"you're doing very well, but remember, i'm guiding you. you won't find a better person to teach you."

your hands are big and knowledgeable over his own, each arc of the knife steady and precise. the blood warms his skin up to the knuckles, but it pales in comparison to your own, smeared up past your wrists in a deep ruby red. a bucket by the leg of the table is full of gore, intestines wrapped around a bladder and stomach and hacked-off chunks of fat. it was a job too bloody and slippery to give to your pretty shrike.

"this will be your steak," you hum, stroking the heavy, lick-wet cut of meat almost reverentially. you press your lips to his shoulder, then to his temple. he can feel your smile against his skin. "perfect knifework. it's almost as if you've done it before."

"well, it's like you said," taehyung breathes, gently placing it in the metal bowl at the top of the table. a secondary bowl beside it is already filled with some lesser cuts of meat, which you'd done to kill time before his arrival. "there's no better person to teach me."

he turns around in your arms, carefully linking his bloodied fingers behind your head. he noses your jaw, his lips brushing over yours. the strappy black top he wears clings to him like a second skin, and the gap between it and the top of his pants reveals his toned stomach, flexing now as he presses his hips against your thigh. he whines softly as you knock his knees apart and slide your leg between his with a teasing grin.

"no need to play coy, beautiful," you purr, digging your palms into the edge of the table. "if you want it, just ask."

"but where's the fun in that?" he gasps as you nip the soft skin of his neck, canines making reds and purples bloom across his sun-kissed skin. "o-oh – y-you know you shouldn't do that, baby. not so high."

with a furrowed brow, you growl softly, slowly rocking your thigh against him. "rules, rules, rules... why does he dictate your life like this? scared of being tossed aside?"

taehyung shakes his head, his head falling back with a moan. for someone who doesn't like being marked up, he sure does make it easy. he exhales as your breath trails up his throat and over his jaw. "he's not. he doesn't."

"yet you pretend as if we've never met when he's around, and you don't say anything when he forbids you from working with your hands. he thinks you should stay clean and pretty because he likes it that way. he holds you back, and you let him."

you punctuate your words with a fist around his throat, slowly pressing in. the flush that'd dusted his chest and neck while working the knife spreads to the apples of his cheeks, sweet and shy. his breath catches, and he looks up at you through the dark forest of his lashes.

you can almost understand jimin's rules. someone as beautiful as him shouldn't need to mar his skin with stains and calluses. that he still desires it – desires to delve deep into the marrow of mortality, watch it squeeze out between his knuckles – turns your stomach, in sickness or adoration.

"i'm sorry," taehyung nearly whimpers, panting short and shallow as his blood-slick hands scramble at your shoulders and chest. his eyes are black with lust and his pulse throbs under your fingers. "i know. i just don't want to upset him. i care about him."

you don't look away when you grab one of his hands, resting over your heart. you lift his knuckles to your lips and, under the heavy haze of hunger, he watches as you wrap your lips around two of his fingers. your cheeks hollow, and your tongue swirls slowly around each joint, as if savouring more than the iron taste.

he swallows thickly as the hand around his throat shifts, less to choke and more to pull close. his heartbeat thuds at the back of his throat.

pinned between your body and the table, the tiny shed door locked behind you, he realises suddenly what it must feel like to be your prey. you have a visceral animal strength about you, muscles like steel cable wound tight, always on the brink of snapping. only the patience of a tiger in wait keeps the mask from slipping, breaking.

your canines graze his finger, held firm in the heat of your mouth. the look in your eye says it wouldn't take much to release that perfectly wound tension, to let the slick nubs of your teeth open him up.

the look in his eyes invites you to.

eventually, you pull away, a satisfied smile splitting your face. you crush your lips against his, nicking his lower lip, and he moans at the warm iron flooding his mouth. greedily, your tongue laps at the stinging cut.

"fuckin' perfect," you husk, gaze flickering down to the red smeared over his throat and jaw, then further down to the obvious bulge in his pants. you snicker. "hm. need help with that?"

"please." he reaches down, as if to undo the buttons right there and then.

you grab his wrists and tut. "sweetheart, not over our dinner. you know better than that."

he groans. "it's your fault for driving me crazy!"

in response, you just laugh and grab the bowls of steaks. it's a surprisingly light sound even though you were ready to eat him up mere moments ago. "come on, then. we've got all the good cuts already. head in and put these in the fridge; i'll deal with the carcass. i'll be quick, i promise."

"you better be," he mutters, loosening the latch on the door. "i'll kill you otherwise."

when you open the door to your bedroom, halfway through drying your hands on a tea towel, you are greeted by the sight of an angel on your bed, long slender legs spread just for you. you toss the towel onto a nearby chair and lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms. you let out a slow, appreciative wolf whistle, smirking when taehyung's eyes snap open and he bolts upright. he relaxes at the sight of you, one hand already slipping back between his thighs.

"you're not much of a gentleman, leaving me alone to entertain myself. you have to make it up to me."

"demanding little thing." you click your tongue, leaving the door open and approaching him on the bed. he leans back against the piled-up pillows, sighing softly as his fingers slip back inside himself. they do so with whorish ease, and the smoky darkness of his gaze is smug.

a challenge, then? you can do that.

your fingers glide over the back of a chair, slow and thoughtful. you drag it to the end of the bed and straighten it to face him. he shivers slightly in the warm night as you take a seat, leaning back and spreading your knees. one hand rests casually on your leg and the other props itself up on the armrest, curled in a loose fist.

he pulls his fingers out slightly. you snicker at the confusion in his flickering gaze. "what are you getting up for? i was just getting comfy."

"i—" he falters. almost indifferently, his fingers glide in and out of himself, keeping himself hard while he gathers his thoughts. "but you promised you'd fuck me tonight... killing always did rile you up, red-blooded beast that you are."

"beast?" you parrot, exaggerating a pout. "aw – and here i was, thinkin' i was more than an impressive cock to you." you run your thumb over your nails, your eyes flicking to his open legs and sticking there as he pulls his fingers out to pump his dick twice, thrice. his hand travels back down. "no. i promised no such thing. after all, you've got a date with your pretty boy tomorrow, yeah? don't want him wondering why you're so loose for him, do you?"

he whimpers softly at the mention of it. his fingers dig deeper inside him, upping the pace, and his cock pulses with need. "n-no... i-i mean, i could just say i got a bigger toy..."

"oh, no, sweetheart – if you like a man, never tell them your toy is bigger than them. 'specially them rich types. they bruise easily." you sigh softly, thumb gliding over the edge of your jawline. his twitching cock blushes under the hunger of your gaze and his hole clenches. "you'll just have to wait it out. patiently."

"but i want you." he gasps, the wet squelch of lube making everything ten times dirtier. his breath quickens and he adds a third finger, shuddering at the stretch. "ah– baby, please, i've already been doing this for ages—"

"i didn't ask you to."

"your fingers are thicker than mine," he whines, eyes growing big and ever-so-slightly teary. he's good, you'll give him that. the slight lip tremble, the shaky breaths. you could make him cry properly. he's always been a pretty crier. you wonder if his eyeliner will run.

he sinks his fingers in until the knuckle and he moans, bucking onto his fingers. "god, won't you just fuck me already? why touch yourself when you can touch me? i can see how hard you are!"

you lift your hand off the bulge in your jeans and undo your belt teasingly, thoughtfully – as if you might take him up on that tasty, tasty offer. you lean back in the chair and exhale softly as you free yourself from the confines of your underwear. your cock taps your stomach and taehyung keens, unable to tear his eyes off of it as you wrap your hand around its base, stroking shallowly.

"w-wait," he gasps, beginning to pull his fingers out, "wait, i wanna – let me—"

"no," you say sharply, movements halting. "sit back. i didn't tell you to stop."

"but i can—"

"taehyung."

he quietens, chastened but obedient. he gnaws on his lower lip as his hand returns to its rightful place. he quivers as he watches your palm smooth over your tip and slide back down, precome bubbling from the slit. he can feel his own smearing over his bare stomach, hotter than his warm skin.

instinct takes over. over and over. over and over.

he's such a good boy for you – he's wasted on a creature like jimin. then again, are you really better than him? just the same, you've denied him his basest needs. to part flesh with steel, impart bliss with lust – you've just dropped one piece of control for another.

no. you can be better. you are better.

taehyung gasps sharply as you all but lunge at him, pinning him to the bed by his throat. his golden hair haloes him on the crumpled white blankets, like a gilded apollo so gently posed against marble. he blinks slowly up at you, eyes soft with worship and dark with desire, and kisses the thumb tracing the cupid's bow of his lips, a hand curled around your wrist. the other reaches for you.

you groan softly as he pumps your cock, twisting his wrist expertly. your belt buckle clinks and he giggles, eagerly reciprocating your greed. he hooks his legs loosely around your thighs.

"and you were the one preaching patience," he hums as you lean away to tug your shirt over your head. it gets tossed into a corner without so much as a glance and taehyung flushes at the view, half-lidded gaze raking every inch of revealed skin like a man starved. "oh..."

"how many times have you seen me shirtless?"

"not enough." he grabs your hand and pulls you into him, his hands locking behind your head and tugging you into a heated kiss. "you're also not bloody enough for my liking."

without waiting for a response, his teeth clamp down in the junction between your neck and shoulder, where the meat is soft and muscle is taut.

pain blooms like a shard of ice, sudden and sharp. a decisive movement, it left no room for bruising. taehyung groans, guttural, and digs his teeth in deeper, if only to keep the wound open for longer. his fingernails print stinging crescents into your biceps and he whimpers, eyes rolling back, as you shove his head into your neck, forcing the blood down his throat.

melting heat and iron, the sharp tang dissolving into sweetness – his tongue laps at the oozing wound, the arc of his teeth imprinted forever into your skin until the white of your bones will gleam under the midday sun.

when you allow him to pull away, his eyes are black, dazed and blissful. he smiles from ear to ear, teeth red and stained down the chin and throat, and crushes his lips against yours, tangling your hair in his grip and moaning sinfully loudly. his cock throbs, crushed between your bodies, and he bucks against your shaft, the vein on the underside catching against the ridge of your tip with a shuddering bolt of pleasure.

"i'm yours! i'm yours, all yours," he whispers fervently, obsessively. his tongue swipes over his lower lip, the oily heat marking him just like a sheep bloodying the muzzle of a wolf.

he smiles. he laughs. he presses your foreheads together, his stomach slick with his orgasm, and kisses you again, this time sitting upright in your arms.

"you're good to me. so, so good to me." he leaves the print of his lips against your throat and jaw like a jealous girlfriend, your own blood a perfect valentines' red. "fuck me – please? or i could suck you off, if you're still worried about tomor—oh!"

you flip him over and pull his hips towards you, slotted perfectly between your thighs. his own shine with excess lube and you push your cock between his plush thighs, thrusting impatiently to coat it. over his shoulder, he watches, wide-eyed, as you drag a few fingers up your chest towards your shoulder – towards the red bite mark leaking down your chest.

you smear the blood on your cock. taehyung's core throbs – his back arches. he nearly screams as you yank him onto your cock, burying yourself hilt-deep in not-enough thrusts. his mouth falls open as the burn sears its way up his spine and caresses his brain. he swears he can feel you in his throat.

"fuck! fu-fuck," he burbles, crying out as you set a steady pace, your hips slapping against his ass. you push his knees together with your own and his eyes show their whites, mouth open in a perpetual moan. he buries the chants into the pillow, staining it with blood, and his knuckles whiten around fistfuls of blanket as your cock scrapes his insides so deliciously, stabbing and thudding against his prostate. "fuck, oh my god, fuckfuckfuck—!"

you click your tongue, gaze glued to the point where you meet. "you've got a mouth on you, haven't ya? should fuck you until you forget how to talk. that'll clean you right up, nice and ready for your little boytoy. would you like that, sweetheart?"

"fuck, daddy, please, yes please," he whines, letting the pillow swallow the rest of his sounds. the ricochet of skin on skin echoes loudly in the cosy bedroom, and his cock throbs as it swings between his creamy thighs. shit, you could watch the ripple of his ass until the day you died, and none of it would be wasted time. you're beginning to suspect he has a stronger hold on you than you thought.

your shoulder stings like a bolt of clarity and you growl, grabbing and pulling his hips to meet your thrusts. he whimpers at the sound. "what an obedient pup. a little eager, but i s'pose that's normal, given that tonight was your first time." you huff and slap his thigh, making him yowl and his hips jerk. "wasted, you are. such steady hands. i could use someone like you."

"y-yes, yes, use me – ah, ah – love being used! mmn—!"

"not quite what i was saying, but i'll let it slide." you slam your hips into him and he chokes on it, letting his head falls limply to the pillow. he hasn't felt your cock in so, so long – he can't believe he'd almost forgotten how good it felt, how it filled him up just right to knock his brains out. you gripped him so tightly, too, as if he might get up and leave at any time – but you should know by now that he'll always be the one running back to you, that sick glint in your eye only making him swoon harder.

you had a few bad habits, sure. a few dark fantasies. but so did taehyung. and now he had your blood in him – your essence, the purest part of you – which could never be taken away, even if the elders found out about your relationship. they could take you, but not the part of you that you'd planted deep inside him. they'd never be able to dig it all out. you were a rot to their perfectly-tended garden, and taehyung wouldn't let you be cut out so easily – not when you were so sweet on the tongue.

he licks his lips, the faint taste of what remains fluttering his heart. he'd been careless with his moans, the cries of your name like a prayer. he found so many little deaths with you, and the best ones came screaming.

suddenly, emptiness – you pull away, hand slipping out of his. you halt, stiller than the dead.

hoarsely, taehyung whispers your name, a whine on the tip of his tongue. "n-no... so close, was so close, please..." he turns around.

his heart drops like a stone.

"hello," says jimin, in a voice like silk.

"baby, put the knife down," taehyung stammers, all pleasure doused by the sight of that too-big blade pressed up against your throat. "don't."

"why should i?" he adjusts it, nicking a fine pink line beneath your ear. red beads along it like a string of pearls. "he's a killer. he must be cleansed, same as the rest."

unconsciously, taehyung wipes his mouth, as if your influence on him could be removed so easily. he can still feel the heat of it pulsing against his lips. "but he's mine."

you roll your eyes, hands open and half-raised. of all the things he could've said...

yet, it seems to give him pause. the kitchen knife almost loosens – almost. he tugs your hair roughly, punishingly, and you grunt as the blade whispers against your skin. you have half a mind to teach him a bloody hard lesson, but taehyung might not like that.

"wait!" taehyung darts forward, hand outstretched. he slumps on the bed in front of jimin, gripping the sheets. "how – how did you find us?"

"i followed your ex," jimin replies, observing the wet blood painting half of your chest. the red against your skin is rather pretty... and it's in the shape of taehyung's teeth. "this mark is good at covering his tracks. not so much for those of others."

taehyung's eyes widen. no. you promised to stay away from his ex! then again, he never did see the face of the meat he was cutting up... and you weren't one to be one-upped by the likes of jimin.

"he's not a mark," he pleads, "not officially. he could join us! how many people has he already killed? how long did it take for you to realise? you only found him because he was too rash with this one."

jimin's eyes narrow. "all that tells me is that he grew cocky and let his guard down."

"the mark was cruel to me. he did it for me," taehyung implores, his eyes earnest. "he loves me. and i love him. put down the knife. initiate him."

you frown. initiate?

for a long time, jimin says nothing. he doesn't move.

he lifts the knife. taehyung's eyes widen.

he raises his hands in surrender. he huffs and crosses his arms, drumming his fingers against his arm as he cocks a hip. his skirt and knitted vest give him the impression of a private-school kid, although the short sleeves of the dress shirt seem a touch too tight to be unaltered. he wears a shiny pair of tall, heeled mary janes, but you hadn't heard him until the knife was at your throat. odd.

"fine," he drawls, eyeing you with a slight curl to his upper lip. "you have two minutes to convince me. you're so lucky i like you, tae. wh—i mean, why do you even care? you said he wasn't your type."

"well," he searches carefully for the right words, "things change. and he fucks me the way i like it. you can't tell that from a glance."

jimin's gaze strays briefly downwards, over the shine of blood and flexing muscle. you're still hard, and when his gaze flicks up to meet yours, your lips twitch up into a smirk. you adjust your undone jeans and cross your arms.

eventually, jimin steps closer, reaching out curiously to prod at the bite mark. ruby red oozes, and he watches closely as your eyes flutter briefly shut. his tongue glides over his glossy lower lip. "hm... but he's still a killer. i don't know what makes him more useful to me alive."

it's as if a lightbulb flashes over taehyung's head.

he leans forward, resting a hand on your thigh. he tilts his head against your hip. "maybe you can... try him. see from my perspective."

"i'm not getting on my knees," jimin scowls immediately, "not for a sinner."

"but you don't mind it when i do?"

jimin opens his mouth. he closes it. he throws his hands in the air, knife waving around carelessly. "we're not the same! i'm already doing you a kindness by letting him live this long. i should be flaying him right now for tainting your body with his filth. you're supposed to be pure. unsullied."

"pure?" you repeat, scoffing. you can only stay quiet for so long. "oh, you lot are crazy-crazy. worse than me."

his eyes narrow and his knuckles whiten on the knife handle. taehyung shoves himself between you, gripping your hand in his own. "no! stop it, both of you! if you kill each other, who's gonna take care of me? i'm still hard."

he's the perfect height for you. you prop your chin on his shoulder with a lazy grin, wrapping your arms loosely around his waist. you play with his cock, making his breath stutter. "you're right as always, sweetheart... how cruel is he for cockblocking you? you deserve everything in the world and more..."

jimin's fingers twitch. taehyung bucks shallowly against you, but you keep him firmly in place as you stroke his cock, already sensitive. you kiss his neck. you haven't taken your eyes off of jimin.

he presses his thighs together as taehyung lets out a soft whimper.

"come on, sweet thing," you croon into his ear, cupping his chest and grazing his nipple. "don't you want my cock?"

gulping, he tries not to show how affected he is by the hardness pressing against his ass. "a-ah, um..."

"what was that?" you flick your wrist roughly and taehyung's eyes shoot open. blood fills his mouth from a bitten cut in his cheek.

nervously, he lifts his eyes to jimin's. his gaze is fixed on your hand and the way it engulfs taehyung's cock, flicking over his slit and grazing the veins with your nails. "i want – i w-want..."

"say it, tae."

the words come not from your lips, but jimin's. two fingers slip into taehyung's ass and he jolts with a sweet moan as you curl them.

"i want your cock," he rushes out in one breath. "fuck, i want it so bad."

"even more than your boyfriend's?" your words are sly, coated in a thick layer of faux innocence. "why?"

taehyung doesn't bother answering. you know the answer – so does jimin. he turns in your arms and cups your face in his hands, bringing you down for a desperate, hungry kiss. you thrust your fingers into his hole and he jerks, clamping down around you. you swallow his moans, pumping your fingers teasingly.

"i wonder," you drawl, kissing a trail up taehyung's neck, "if he likes watching. maybe that's why he doesn't want to date you. he wants to sit back and watch as other men ruin your pretty little body – after all, it's hard to enjoy the faces you make when preoccupied with doing all the real work."

the sharp intake of breath and the way he clenches around you tells you what you want to hear. he looks up at you with those dark, dark eyes, his breath quick and shallow, and leans into it when you sit him down on the bed with a creak. swiftly, he turns over, arching his back and wiggling his ass. he gazes back at you with huge eyes as you remove your pants. he's almost shy – though the twitching cock leaking down his thigh is anything but. red and angry, it demands attention.

you glance at jimin. the knife's still in his hand, but the thought of it seems secondary to the sight of taehyung on his hands and knees. you can hardly blame him.

from the edge of the bed, you grab the bottle of lube taehyung had brought with him. you slather a generous amount onto your cock and push a few fingers into taehyung with the remnants, exhaling softly as he pushes his hips back against your knuckles.

"my perfect boy." you scissor your fingers, then slide them out. "c'mon – don't be shy. show your dear jimin how well i stretch you out."

he glances your way sharply. you're already staring at him, grinning in the airheaded, cocky, handsome way that all popular boys seem to know intrinsically. the soft lips, the blood, the way you manoeuvre taehyung's body around yours as if he's a prop to make you look better... every jock knows that rising in the ranks means he needs to talk louder than the next guy, take up more space than the next guy, have prettier girls on his arms than the next guy. they say confidence is key, but that's only good at pool parties where nobody wants to really call anyone's bluff.

you're the only one who does it right. you're the only one with a cock to match that body.

taehyung exhales shakily as he reaches back and parts his asscheeks, fingers digging harder than necessary into the plump meat. he hides his burning face in the sheets as jimin steps closer, and his breath quickens as you tap your cock against his ass, teasing his hole with your tip.

"cute, isn't he? surprisingly sweet, too. thought he'd be more of a brat when i first saw him," you hum, casually stuffing your cock into him in one smooth movement. taehyung yelps and lets out a quivery little moan, his slick walls clenching around your thick cock. he sounds like he's trying not to cry – you sigh patiently and pet his hair before your hands return to their rightful places on his hips to pull him onto you.

his body jolts with each thrust, his muffled cries breathy and whiny. his ass ripples with the slap of your hips. on a particularly rough thrust which has him seeing stars, he whimpers out a "daddy" that has jimin's breath hitching audibly.

"good, baby," you husk, palms gliding down his body appreciatively. you slap his ass – so hard your palm stings – and he chokes, already-wobbly knees giving out beneath him. he catches himself just in time but the angle has your cock driving deeper inside him, oscillating wildly from kissing his prostate to fucking his brain out his ears.

you grab a fistful of his hair and loom over him, your lips brushing his earlobe. his spine arches when you tug roughly, his eyes rolling to show their whites as your cock throbs inside him, each thrust wet and slick. "tell him how you feel, whore," you murmur, soft but loud enough for your voice to carry. he gasps sharply at the title and his aching cock leaks like a faucet into a puddle of his own precome. he shakes his head, embarrassment hot in his core.

you tilt your head. "maybe i'll even let you suck him off."

"it f-feels good," he cries immediately. the quick, precise slapping of skin on skin echoes in the room. "i love your cock! i love tay-taking cock, love being fucked by big cocks – oh god! – 'n' yours is the biggest! love getting stretched wide on your dick, getting fucked 'til it hurts—! i-i never wanna come off, mm, i love being your cockslut – wanna be your bitch, your toy, all yours—" you bury yourself balls-deep in his guts and his mouth falls open, thick white come spurting from his tip; it's almost humiliating how you can make him finish without a single brush against his dick. he smiles, broad and wobbly. "ohhh..."

you peck his cheek, pressing against his back low and heavy like an animal. you grip his jaw. "coming already? don't go passing out on me," you chide, tilting his head in jimin's direction. "look at him. look. there we go. see how hard he is? he must like how obedient you get with me – with your daddy."

heat floods his body to the marrow. you've never used that title on yourself before – it's always been taehyung's thing, something you don't mind only because it's him. the raking burn of pleasure hurts, blooming from his cock all the way up his spine and out to his fingers and toes.

possession. it spins in taehyung's jumbled mind. you fuck him like you want to bruise your name inside him, forcing him to think of you and only you even when jimin sits on that chair in front of him, a perfectly manicured hand wrapped around his leaking length, just begging to be touched.

briefly, taehyung wonders how you might fuck jimin. he's giving you his infamous bedroom eyes, but there's an acrid darkness that taints his gaze. jealousy? inadequacy? scorn? taehyung's thighs are hot and sticky.

maybe you'd be rougher with him, tie him up and fold him in half with his legs over your shoulders. even as he distantly obeys your whispered order to open his mouth, and even as jimin slides his velvety cock between his lips, he can't stop imagining you behind jimin, manhandling him and forcing him to ride you to get off, even though jimin's such a pillow princess.

you grip taehyung's hips, sweat shining on your skin. you spread his ass and thrust deeper, smirking when he jerks forward, choking down the rest of jimin's dick and ripping a pleasured curse from his throat.

taehyung's limbs feel like jelly. he braces against jimin's hip, hooking his thumb under the hem of jimin's skirt to pin it back. as he sinks down on his cock, he chances a glance up.

rid of his little sweater vest and unbuttoned down to the navel, jimin does very little to chase his high. he meets taehyung's eyes and tilts his head slightly – he's almost perfectly still, and the only thing he does is gather his skirt in a fist. your quick, snapping pace sets taehyung's, and it's only by the blown pupils and pink-tinged cheeks that taehyung knows he's doing well.

"so," you begin, and your voice is remarkably steady. "did you come here intending to kill me?"

"please, i barely know who you are. there are others—" his breath catches, and he closes his eyes to steady himself "—others who're more deserving of atonement than you. which isn't to say i thought you a paragon of virtue – you're a handsome guy on a sports team, and sin comes to your type like moths to a flame. i knew i'd come to collect eventually, but you surprised me. congrats – not many can."

"did you watch?" you ask, patting taehyung's ass almost fondly. "he did so well with the – what did you call him? your mark? did you see how beautiful he looked, nearly orgasmic as he cut him open and warmed his hands with his blood? you must enjoy it, too – seeing the life fade from your victims' eyes. otherwise, you would've culled me the moment i took your kill."

his eyes narrow. "you're sick."

you laugh. "y'know, you and your little 'cult' aren't slick. i saw how pretty girls and guys don't shy away from the forest or the nasty parts of town because what they can do far outweighs the shard of glass a cokehead waves around. i thought it was a creative writing exercise gone crazy, something to explain the unusual disappearances around here. it was good for me, though. nobody'll raise a fuss if one more douchebag goes missing."

"i should kill you now."

"but then sweet little taehyung would be upset – you heard him." you pout. "besides, you must've liked something about me or you would've gotten rid of me as soon as i ravaged your favourite boytoy. do you have a thing for corruption? is that why you stayed, watched him come as soon as he tasted my blood? if you like, i'll let him bite the other side."

he pulls taehyung's throat down on his cock by his hair. taehyung eagerly laps up every throbbing inch he receives, nails digging into jimin's ass. he jolts and gags slightly as hot come pours down his throat without warning – his eyes flutter shut as his throat bobs, lips pressed against jimin's base.

"oh, i like you," you purr, something of a song lilting your voice. "are you as angry when you take cock, i wonder?"

"try it, i dare you."

you turn your attention to taehyung, who sits jimin's cock in his mouth like a good boy. he suckles softly, dazed and faraway. his walls are soft and hot, each gummy ridge stroking and clamping around you to pull you in as deep as possible when you finally, finally come, forcing him over the precipice as well for the nth time that night.

you pet his hair and he leans into it, moaning as you gently pull out, letting him sink into the mattress. thick come drips down his inner thigh, pooling in the dips of the bed. softly, you groan, gathering yourself and lavishing kisses upon kisses over his neck and shoulder. "what do you think, baby? should i fuck the cultist freak?"

taehyung pops off wetly, licking his lips. his chest heaves. it's hard to scoop his brain up off the floor, but the thought of the two people hottest people he knows putting on a show, all for him? "p-please..."

you raise your eyes, and meet jimin's glare with a smirk. "you heard him. don't wanna disappoint, do we?"

"you think you deserve to fuck me? after everything you've done? you don't even kill for a reason," he scoffs. "you're no better than an animal."

"what is it with you and prettyboy here thinking i'm less than human? you cower behind your righteous moral justifications when you take a life and hold me to the same standards, but animals don't have morals. i can only be one, baby, so choose."

jimin glowers.

"you've got me in a box," he admits eventually, and his expression twists as your smile turns gloating. "shut up. you can fuck me – just this once."

"those are dangerous gambling words," you tease, but lay back against the headboard, one hand behind your head and the other wrapping around the base of your cock. your absence above him makes taehyung blink – hard – before he shuffles after you like a sleepy puppy and buries his face in your shoulder.

his thighs still twitch every now and again, and he lifts his unfocussed gaze to meet jimin's. it clears, just enough, for a fat, satisfied grin to spread across his face and he shifts to spread his shaky legs, showing off the warm glazed mess between his thighs like a piece of art.

jimin's cock throbs. taehyung grins lazily, knowingly, eyes half-lidded and hungry. he slides your slick cock between the vee of his fingers and flicks his wrist. a pearl of precome beads along your slit and follows the line of a vein, gathering eventually along taehyung's slender finger.

unwise, a voice whispers in his head, regal and maternal, yet youthful.

with a sigh too breathy to be accidental, taehyung splays his fingers over his lips and tilts his head back, taking one finger at a time against his scarlet tongue to clean it. his lashes graze his cheeks. his eyes are black corridors of velvet, and he gives jimin's invisible leash a tug with a curl of his pretty fingers.

it was never that taehyung made it too hard to say no. he made it far too easy to say yes.

[mychlapci]

tbh i need rodimus to be domesticated. and by this i mean. rodimus doesnt care much about others or himself and will be reckless all the time... unless hes pregnant. he's a narcissistic asshole but not THAT much. he cares abt his sparkling so so much (he has a beautiful mind). so the first time he gets knocked up after like... a lost light free use night or whatever? ok, fine. an accident. of COURSE hes keeping it. its his first pregnancy so his tummy only gets a cute little bump and his titties swell juust a little. like a magazine perfect pregnancy. sadly he cant have baffles / birth control installed while hes nursing his little bitty bc it would contaminate the energon milk and Oops. hes knocked up again by a different mech. welp. and every time it happens everyone realizes that Hey when roddy's pregnant he isn't speeding down the halls or getting the ship to go into dangerous meteor fields for funsies... that's... hmm... so even without a formal agreement, every time he has a sparkling be born some other mech will swing by like Heyy ^^ and because roddy is a loose slut shareware open valve ass kinda mech he gets knocked up riiight back. and each pregnancy shows more! by his fifth he isn't having that cute magazine perfect little bump. His body has settled and he has a big ol tummy that's so swollen he has to remove abdominal plating for comfort and his tits are so so so big and swollen and lowkey kinda saggy that his chest armor is soo uncomfy. and he keeps saying this sparkling is the last one for real bc he wants to have fun!! but the stress of being a single mama (not really single. everyone chips in ofc. but none of the fathers officially step up even tho its sooo obvious when the sparklins are born w their build or colors) is soo stressful and he cant help but take spike when offered and oopsie pregnant again,

i’ve been saying this!! milf him up!! Rodimus can't keep his panels closed to save his life, he'll just keep getting himself knocked up again and again like the slut he is. the whole lost light likes him better like this, with a toddler on his hip and a baby on his tit. his tummy's all stretched because of all the pregnancies and his tits are saggy and covered in stretch-marks. thankfully, no one seems to mind, as he gets plenty of spike cumming raw in him daily.

[swiftyangx12]

🟥🧲Two Old Bots & Their Spark❤️‍🩹⬜️

[Pairing]: TFA Ratchet x Cybertronian!Autobot![Reader]

[Synopsis]: It’s not always easy to work in a special unit with a well-rumored commander, especially if you’re their grownup kid*.

Sparkling*

[Inspiration]: The request from awhile ago and @signedaiko wrote the HCs out. (HCs with the Special Ops![S/O])

[D/N] = Designation (Your Name)

[S/D] = Sparkling’s Designation (Your kid’s name)

[Gender Neutral]

[(A/N)]: Welp, I lied. I’m definitely writing out the next chosen characters from that request awhile back. The two fics would probably be a longer than the Optimus one (which I’m considering to turn it in a lengthy story).

[(A/N #2)]: This fic is based on S1;E7 from the series.

[WARNING]: Still, possible misuse of Cybertronian Vocabulary and Terminology, Little more than Canonical Violence, some Energon (Blood) spillage

[Back on Cybertron, everybot knows the Elite Guards and many famous figures with a high-ranking status. Especially the infamous Commander of the Information Operations, [D/N]. Rumors about them have circulated for a long time; how they served in the war and stories of them taking down Decepticons twice their size. Most of the population are afraid of them, even mentioning their designation sends shivers down the struts. What many Cybertronians don’t know is you never mess with their unit.]

[Fortress Maximus]

[D/N], marching down the halls: *In their commanding tone* Sentinel Prime!

Sentinel Prime: *Internally panics* A-Ah, Commander [D/N]. I didn’t expect to see you here.

[D/N]: Cut the slaggy formality. Did you or did you not harm one of my teammates? Specifically, my unit’s medic.

Sentinel Prime: “Frag, they tattled on me.” You see-!

[D/N]: *Snatches the Elite Guard and lifts him off the floor* Answer my question, now.

Sentinel Prime: I can explain-! *Winces as he feels the built-in blades poking into his chassis*

[D/N]: Confess, now.

Sentinel Prime: Yes! Okay! I did beat your medic up!

[D/N]: *Lets go of the Elite Guard*

Sentinel Prime: *Falls on his aft* Ow! I’ll report to Ultra Magnus for this!

[D/N]: Go ahead. You know well he’s afraid of me, and I have evidence against you for harming the team’s medical officer.

Sentinel Prime: *Shuts his intake up* …

[D/N]: Hm, thought so. I have important business to attend so don’t bother me unless it’s actually a world-ending dilemma.

🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️

[The Commander and Medical Officer traveled in one of the stealth ships to Earth to see the certain Field Technician. Their ship landed in a forested area away from the city and [D/N] already has their Earthly alt. mode (due to secret visits) so they helped [S/D] find one too. Afterwards, the two rode off to Team Prime’s base.]

[Earth, Michigan, Detroit]

[Outside of the Autobots’ Secret Base]

[D/N]: Ratchy! We’re here!

[S/D]: Hi, Sire.

Ratchet: [D/N], [S/D]? What are you two doing here?

[D/N]: What? Am I not allowed to see my Conjunx?

Ratchet: It’s not that. What’s [S/D] doing here?

[S/D]: Had a rough time back on Cybertron. It involved with a certain guard possessing a hideous double-chin feature.

Ratchet: Ah, that brat.

[S/D]: Carrier almost offlined him.

Ratchet: [D/N]

[D/N]: What? No bot messes with my family.

[Just then, Optimus Prime came outside to investigate the sudden voices.]

Optimus Prime: What’s going on here? *Sees the two Special Ops ‘Bots and salutes them* Commander [D/N] and Medical Officer [S/D].

[D/N]: Ah, Optimus. You can stop with the formality, we’re off-duty during the visit.

Optimus Prime: I apologize, [D/N].

[D/N]: Don’t be too hard on yourself. Why don’t you and Ratchet introduce us to the team?

🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️

[The Plant: The Autobots’ Base]

Bumblebee: Wait, hold up! You mean to tell us you have a Conjunx the whole time?! And you two had a Sparkling together?

Ratchet: You never asked and not even tellin’ you young bots about my personal stuff.

Optimus Prime: What’s actually more shocking to learn is you’re conjunxed to Cybertron’s most scariest commander.

[D/N]: …It’s the paint job, isn’t it? It’s what I get for accepting this role long ago.

[S/D]: My carrier isn’t scary when off the breems. Those were rumors by bots too afraid to approach them.

[D/N]: Sweetie, it’s okay. It’s noble you’re defending your creators but I accepted the terms so it’s bound to have everybot on their pedes around me.

Bumblebee: Oh hey! Why don’t we show you around Detroit? Everyone would love to see new ‘Bots around.

[D/N]: Why not? Ratchet told us about the humans here and it wouldn’t hurt to meet some.

🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️

[The tour took up a whole day as [S/D] was fascinated by Earth and its quirks while [D/N] knew some facts, but still surprised by new discoveries. Well, and some people who kind of freaked out to see two intimidating-looking Cybertronians (which the misunderstanding was cleared up right after). Then night fell upon the ‘Bots.]

Ratchet: It’s primitive. It’s barbaric.

[S/D]: There needs to be a law against this.

Optimus Prime: Ratchet, [S/D], it’s just an Auto-supply store.

[S/D]: …Whose screws are loose enough to cause an accident, just for parts in the open area?

Bumblebee: *Comes out of the garage of the store* Hey guys! Check out my new horn.

Ratchet & [S/D]: *Both deadpans at Bumblebee* Of course.

[D/N]: *Vents out and smiles while nodding their helm* Like Sire, like Sparkling.

🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️

[Ratchet and [D/N] trail behind the others.]

Ratchet: …

[D/N]: Ratchet, you’re being quiet all of a sudden. And I know which kind of quietness you’re showing.

Ratchet: *Vents out* Just got a funny feeling, is all. Old war wounds actin’ up again… *Rubs over his wound*

[D/N]: *Gently holds his servo* Do you want to talk about it? About your wounds.

Ratchet: No, I’m fine. It usually means trouble when old wounds act up.

[D/N]: *Worried for their Conjunx* You know I was there, too. You can always open up when we’re alone together, alright?

Ratchet: *Reassuringly squeezed his partner’s servo* Yeah, when we’re alone.

[Then the unexpected happened.]

[D/N]: RATCHET, WATCH OUT!!!

🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️

[Optimus, Ratchet, Bumblebee, [D/N] and [S/D] returned back to base and right away, the grumpy technician performed some self-diagnostics. The team’s leader went to check up on him, and the two chatted before the young Prime takes his leave. Prowl monitored the activities of the mysterious vehicle through the news outlet, then the screen shows live footage of the chase and the off-duty commander recognize the exact vehicle from their war days. Afterwards, [D/N] insisted to go with the team but Ratchet refused as he doesn’t want his family getting hurt, especially by a figure from their past. When the team left the base, [D/N] didn’t listen as they have a terrible feeling about the situation, so they transformed into their alt. mode and sneakily drove out of the building with [S/D], who also changed into their mode, driving behind their Carrier in complete silence. They followed Ratchet’s energy signal and when the two arrived to the area…]

Ratchet: *Thrown across and crashes hard into a pile of junk*

[D/N]: Ratchet! [S/D], take care of your Sire. I’ll handle this fragger.

[S/D]: *Nods affirmatively and rushes over to Ratchet for aiding*

[D/N]: Hey Lockdown! Remember me? Kicked that back-bumper of yours eons ago.

Lockdown: Ah, yes. You were the commanding leader with that team during the war. Y’know, you have pretty good parts I could use. Some I could keep as my trophies.

[D/N]: I don’t think you can handle them. *Throws a range of knives at the bounty hunter*

Lockdown: *Dodges the knives* Heh. Not bad, for an old bot. *Swings his hook at the commander*

[D/N]: *Swiftly dodges the attack and kicks him square in the chassis*

Lockdown: *Stumbles back a little*

[D/N]: This ‘Bot still learns new tricks. *Charges at him*

[The two bots battle each other as the commander strikes more blows to the hunter’s towering frame.]

[D/N]: You better let the young Prime go or so help me I’ll rip your-

Lockdown: *Shoots them with the Electro-Magnetic Pulse Generator (EMPG)*

[D/N]: *Passes out as their frame falls down*

Ratchet & [S/D]: [D/N]/Carrier!

Lockdown: Knocked out and vulnerable. *About to pick them up*

[S/D]: *Sprints in to stand between [D/N] and Lockdown*

Lockdown: And what are you gonna do, medi-bot?

[S/D]: *Pulls out their electric tonfas* Kick that slaggy skid-plate of yours. *Starts hitting the hunter*

[While [S/D] fights off in defense, Ratchet uses his magnets’ electric currents to lift up Lockdown from the ground and throws him away from his family.]

Ratchet: *Rushes over to his unconscious Sparkmate* [D/N], get back online. *Holds their helm facing up*

[D/N]: *Groans as they become conscious* Ratchy? That aft-hole has your generator.

Ratchet: I figured. [S/D], get your carrier and yourself out of here before-

[Lockdown returns back to kick Ratchet off of them and grabs hold of their kid.]

[D/N]: Ratchet, [S/D]! You… *Stands back on their pedes* Let them go. This fight is between us, only.

Lockdown: *Lets go of [S/D]* Well, if that’s the case. Then I hope nothing happens after this fight.

[D/N]: *Protacts their built-in blades* Stay away from my family. *Charges at him and swings their blades him*

[Lockdown pulled out the many hidden utilities owned by previous users and the most recent addition is Optimus’ grappling hook.]

[D/N]: *Terrified by the discovery* …

Lockdown: Like the new upgrade~?

[D/N]: …You son of a glitch. *Thrusts their blades at Lockdown successfully jabbing into his chassis near his Spark*

Lockdown: *Groans from the stab yet grabs them by the neck guard with his left servo*

[Before [D/N] could escape from strangulation, they felt a sharp object hooked into their chassis. They coughed some Energon out of their intake.]

Lockdown: Any lost words, commander?

[D/N]: C-Clear…

Lockdown: What now?

[S/D]: CLEAR! *Shocks Lockdown with their tonfas*

[D/N]: *Slices off the arm and falls on their aft* *Pulls out the hook* Frag…

Lockdown: *Screams in pain and passes out from the tactic*

[In the duration of the fight, Ratchet was able to find Optimus and rescued him before the ship took off. [S/D] is by their carrier’s side aiding their wounds after retrieving a crucial instrument from the unconscious bounty hunter.]

[S/D]: *Rips off the EMPG from Lockdown* I believe this belongs to the Field-Tech I value as my role model.

Ratchet: *Huffs out of some pride* Nice work, [S/D].

[D/N]: *Holding their wound* Good job, you two. Now, I need medical attention, ASAP. *Coughs out more Energon*

“[D/N]/Carrier!!!”

🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️❤️‍🩹🟥❤️‍🩹⬜️

[Autobot Base, Med-Bay]

[Optimus is being repaired by [S/D] in the background while Ratchet helps his Sparkmate.]

Ratchet: *Patching up [D/N]* For Primus’ Sakes, never risk your Spark like that again.

[D/N]: *Laughs dryly* Can’t promise that, Ratchy.

[S/D]: When we return back to Cybertron, I’m writing you out on medical leave until you’re fully stable.

[D/N]: [S/D], that’s not necessary.

[S/D]: *Glares at them*

[D/N]: Fine. You’re the medical expert. They inherited my optics…

Ratchet: Huh. Like Carrier, like Sparkling.

[S/D]: …I’ve been wondering for some time. And I’m not the only one curious about it. *Motions at Optimus*

[D/N]: It’s about our times during the Great War, right?

[S/D]: *Nods*

[D/N]: We should tell them, Ratchet. For their sakes.

Ratchet: *Vents a little and nods* We can’t forget what happened during those dark times.

[And so, Ratchet and [D/N] opened up to Optimus and [S/D] about their time in the Great War without sparing any details. Nothing left unsaid.]

❤️[Reblogs help creators and creates more content]❤️‍🩹

[(A/N)]: Please check out @signedaiko and their work. Their writing is so much fun to read. However, by the time I posted this story, they’re not open for requests. When they are available for new requests, please be respectful and read their rules before hand as they stated some boundaries the writer set a while ago.

Also, read the following answers they were frequently asked about.

[butchersboobs]

Playmates - Part Two

Now that the 'boobgate' incident has died down, it's time for your revenge...

Part One

NSFW under the cut - MDNI

---------

Billy was already on edge from the night before. You'd deliberately stayed out late and then been purposely vague when he'd demanded to know 'What the fuck you bin up to, out till this hour?' That had put him in a mood, and he'd been sniping at you all day, muttering on about 'bloody secrets' and 'pissin' about'.

Now, with your revenge plan fully in motion, you set your phone up on the kitchen counter, camouflaging it amongst the clutter, and hit record. You called out, keeping your tone serious.

'Billy?... Billy! We need to have a little chat.'

From the living room, you hear him chuntering 'Oh, 'ere we fuckin' go…'

He sauntered into the kitchen, his usual swagger dampened by suspicion. He leaned against the doorframe, glaring at you. 'What's this about, then? Spit it out.'

'Sit down.' You said firmly, gesturing to the chair.

Billy raised an eyebrow, but complied, dragging the chair out and flopping down, leaning back like he owned the place. He crossed his arms over his chest.  'Right, I'm listnin'. This abou' your be'aviour last night? Betta be good.'

You took a deep breath, trying to keep a straight face as you began. 'Billy, this isn't easy for me, so just hear me out,OK?'

His expression hardened. 'Christ. Whassa bloody matter now?'

'Well,' you said, pausing for effect, 'I've met this bloke I kind of like, and I… well, I was wondering how you'd feel about having an open relationship?'

Billy blinked, his brow furrowing as though he couldn't possibly have heard you properly. 'You fuckin' what?'

'You know,' you continued, keeping your voice as nonchalant as possible, 'an open relationship. So I could fuck this guy, but still be with you. At least some of the time, anyway. You know, when there's nobody else I'd rather be with.'

You think he's gonna clock your game right away when he just stares at you for a bit - but nope. He bites. Fucking hell, does he bite.

''Ave you lost your fuckin' mind?!' he bellows, slamming his hands on the table and standing up so fast the chair scraped across the floor and tipped backwards. 'You think I'm just gonna sit 'ere, while you go off gallivantin' wiv some other prick?'.

'Billy! It's not like th-'

'Don'chu fuckin' 'Billy' me, love. 'Oo is this cunt, then, ay? Some ponce in a suit from work? Some muscle'ead prick from down the gym? You fink 'es gonna be able t'fuck ya even 'alf as good as I do? Fuckin' unbelievable!'

He started pacing around, a hand stroking through his beard as he muttered to himself.  'An open fuckin' relationship, she says. Christ. May as well stick a sign on me bleedin' back that sez fuckin' 'doormat - walk all over me…''

You pressed your lips together, trying hard not to laugh - but it was getting harder by the minute. But fucking hell - did he look hot when he was angry, you thought to yourself.

'Wha's 'e got that I don't then, ay? Better hair? Bigger dick, is tha' it? Oh wait - don't tell me - it's 'is fuckin' 'sparklin' personality', ain'it?!' He made exaggerated air quotes.

Well, that did it. You burst out laughing, doubled over as tears filled your eyes.

Billy froze mid-rant, his eyes narrowing. 'The fuck you laughin' at?'

You couldn't even speak - you just pointed to the counter where your phone was perched with Its red recording light blinking away.

His eyes followed your gesture, and then it clicked. His jaw dropped. 'You're takin' the fuckin' piss,' he drawled, walking over to the phone and picking it up. He stared at the screen for a moment, then turned back to you, his expression caught somewhere between fury and reluctant amusement.

'You bin recordin' this?'

Still laughing, you nodded. 'One of me wank bank, innit love!' you said, in your best Cockney accent.

'You li'l shit!!' he growled, though a grin was already tugging at his lips.  He looked into the camera, 'Oi, future me - she's a fuckin' menace. Don' let'er get away wiv this.'

Straightening up, he turned to you, shaking his head. 'You fink yer so bloody clever, don'cha?'

'Pretty clever, yeah.' you said, grinning as you wiped the tears from your eyes.

Billy stared at you for a long moment, then burst into laughter, tossing your phone down on the counter. 'Alrigh', fair play love. You got me good 'n proper. But you betta sleep wiv one eye open for the rest'o ya life.'

'Oh, I'm terrified,' you teased, but the smugness in your tone only made him laugh harder.

As much as he hated to admit it, he was proud of you for giving as good as you got - and more than a little relieved it was all a joke. 

For now…

[aventurineswife]

Can you do an aventurine x disabled!reader that’s in a wheelchair? Just something really fluffy and emotional and all

Under the Stars

Summary: Aventurine takes you to a magical park adorned with lanterns for a cozy picnic under the stars. As you two enjoy each other's company, share laughter and dreams, your bond deepens, celebrating the beauty of life and love despite challenges.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Fluff, Emotional, Romance, Wheelchair User Representation (Reader is Disabled in this fic), Picnic, Night, Sky, Lighthearted, Heartwarming.

Warnings: Light emotional themes (mention of personal challenges)

The soft light of the early evening filtered through the curtains of Aventurine's spacious apartment, casting a warm glow across the room. The air was filled with the scent of fresh jasmine tea, which Aventurine had brewed earlier. He had always claimed that the right blend of flavors could lift anyone’s spirits, and tonight, he was determined to create a soothing atmosphere for you.

You sat in your wheelchair, a comfortable position by the large window that overlooked the vibrant city skyline. The world outside was alive with the bustling energy of nightlife, but within the confines of Aventurine's home, everything felt safe and serene. You watched as he moved gracefully around the room, adjusting the decorations with a playful finesse that always left you in awe.

“Are you ready for our little surprise?” he called over his shoulder, a hint of mischief lacing his voice.

You couldn’t help but smile at the sound of his playful tone. “Is it another one of your ‘adventures’?” you teased, knowing how he loved to take you on spontaneous outings, no matter the challenges.

He turned, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Only the best kind!” He leaned against the door frame, his dark blazer catching the light just right, accentuating the roulette wheel detailing that was a signature of his style.

You couldn’t help but admire him. He was everything you had dreamed of—a whirlwind of charm and charisma wrapped in an enigma that made your heart race. Despite his carefully curated exterior, you had glimpsed the layers beneath, the scars he hid from the world. You could sense that he, too, was navigating his own labyrinth of emotions.

“Okay, I’m intrigued,” you replied, your heart fluttering at the thought of what he had planned. “What’s the surprise?”

“First, I need you to trust me,” he said, his tone shifting to a more earnest note. “Can you do that?”

“Always.” you assured him, your heart swelling with warmth.

With a flourish, Aventurine approached you, kneeling down to meet your gaze. “I’ve been wanting to take you somewhere special,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “Somewhere that reminds me of how beautiful the world can be, even if we can’t see all of it.”

Your curiosity piqued. “Where are we going?”

“Just a little place nearby. It’s a secret,” he grinned. “But first, I need your help.”

He helped you navigate to your favorite warm coat, ensuring you were comfortable. With every careful adjustment, you felt the bond between you strengthen. You appreciated how he always made it a point to consider your comfort and needs.

Once you were ready, he gently wheeled you toward the door. The excitement bubbling within you was infectious, and soon, you found yourself grinning ear to ear as you entered the crisp night air.

The city was alive with lights and sounds, the streets adorned with decorations that twinkled like stars. Aventurine led the way, his hand lightly resting on the back of your wheelchair, guiding you forward with a gentle touch.

“Just a little further,” he said, his enthusiasm contagious. The thrill of the unknown ignited a spark of adventure in your chest.

Finally, you arrived at a small park, illuminated by lanterns that danced softly in the breeze. The area was filled with people laughing and enjoying the evening, but it felt like a secret haven just for the two of you.

“What do you think?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with anticipation as he wheeled you to a cozy corner beneath a grand oak tree.

“It’s beautiful,” you replied, your breath hitching at the sight of the twinkling lights. The ambiance was magical, creating a serene cocoon around you both.

As you settled in, Aventurine pulled out a small picnic basket he had prepared. “I thought we could have a little picnic under the stars,” he said, excitement bubbling in his voice.

You chuckled, your heart swelling. “You’re so full of surprises.”

He began to unpack, revealing an array of your favorite snacks, sweet treats, and a thermos of that fragrant jasmine tea. Each item was lovingly chosen, and you felt a rush of affection for the thoughtful man who had gone out of his way to make this night special.

As you both sat together, surrounded by the enchanting glow of the lanterns, you felt at peace. Aventurine poured you a cup of tea, and as you took a sip, you looked at him with warmth in your eyes.

“Thank you for this,” you said sincerely. “It means a lot to me.”

Aventurine smiled, his expression softening. “You deserve all the beauty this world has to offer. I want you to see how wonderful life can be, even when it feels difficult.”

You could see the sincerity in his eyes, and it resonated with your heart. In that moment, you realized that despite the challenges you faced, moments like this—filled with joy, laughter, and love—were what made it all worthwhile.

As the evening progressed, you shared stories, laughter, and dreams, your connection deepening with each passing moment. The world faded away as you were lost in each other, your hearts intertwined in a dance of affection.

Eventually, as the stars began to twinkle brighter above, Aventurine leaned closer, his voice soft. “You know, life is a gamble, and I’m glad I took the risk to be with you.”

Your heart raced at his words, knowing that he had chosen you in this high-stakes game of life. “I wouldn’t want it any other way,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

In the gentle embrace of the night, you both leaned in, sharing a tender kiss beneath the stars—a perfect moment, a reflection of your beautiful bond, filled with warmth, laughter, and love.

As you pulled away, you couldn’t help but smile. “What’s next, my risk-taker?”

“Next?” he said, mischief glinting in his eyes. “How about we try to catch a shooting star together?”

With that, you both turned your eyes skyward, hearts entwined, ready to embrace whatever the universe had in store for you next.

[otherone12]

I Don't Need a VIP Pass

Gerard Way x Reader

-> Masterlist

A/N: Heyy!! This fic was quite short, but I really think it turned out well… anyway, I don't think there was any reason to extend it. Hupe u enjoy it!

(Plz sand me requests! Literally anything... )

Summary: You are a non-public Gerard's partner, 'because you never really cared about put this under the spotlight, 'cause you love each other and thats enough for you. He invited you to see MCR's concert, but you didn't found him anfter the show. Looking for him, you went to the "meet & great" area, but you haven't a VIP pass.

- Word Count: 900

- Warnings: None :)

- Ps: I'll not use y/n…

- Ps2: I'm brazilian, so english is not my first language... sorry if i wrote something wrong.

___________________________________________

1st Person POV

The crowd’s cheers still echoed in my ears as I maneuvered backstage, a mix of adrenaline and nerves coursing through me. MCR had just put on an epic show, and all I wanted was to be with Gerard, like we always do after shows. 

Our post-show meetings are practically a ritual. Right after the show I meet him backstage, then we go to the hotel and enjoy some of the quiet time we have during the tour. When there's a meet-and-greet, it's customary for us to see each other beforehand, and I stand nearby waiting. But this time I couldn't find him anywhere.

- Did anyone see Gee? - I called out, trying to maintain my composure as the backstage chaos unfolded around me. It was usually easy to find him, everyone here knew I was his girlfriend, and I never needed any pass or else. But tonight, the backstage area felt like a maze, and I was losing my sense of direction.

- Good luck finding him! - Frank joked as he rushed past me. - He’s probably off kissing some fan or something.

- Ha, very funny, - I shot back, rolling my eyes. But my heart raced with a mix of annoyance and concern. He always made it a point to find me right after the show. Why was this time different?

I made my way toward the meet-and-greet area, where fans buzzed with excitement, but my stomach twisted when I couldn’t spot Gerard’s familiar bright-red hair in the crowd.

A couple of girls, probably around my age, stood near the front. They looked like they knew everything going on so I approached them casually.

- Hey, have you seen Gerard? - I asked calmly - I’ve been looking everywhere for him.

One of the girls immediately gave me the up-and-down, zeroing in on my neck.

- You don’t have a VIP pass. - she said, in an affronting tone.

- Yeah, I know, - I forced a smile, tryng to keep calm - I don’t need one.

I kept my eyes darting around, trying to spot him.

- Well, we paid for ours, so we do need one. - Her friend snorted and rolled her eyes. - If you don't have a pass, you're not supposed to be here.

Her voice dripped with that Karen-level smugness, making my skin prickle.

- I’m not here to meet the band, I’m just looking for Gerard.

 I said, trying even hard to keep calm. My patience was wearing thin.

She crossed her arms with a mean smirk.

- Well, too bad. If you don’t leave, I’ll get security.

I took a deep breath, again, forcing myself to relax, though anxiety and frustration gnawed at me. Where the hell was he?

- Look, I don’t want trouble, -  I said, my voice tight. - I just need to find Gee-

- SECURITY! - she yelled, cutting me off.

A wave of exasperation hit me like a truck. Great.

A large security guard lumbered toward me, parting the crowd with the sheer size of his presence. 

- Where’s your VIP pass? -  he asked gruffly, crossing his arms.

- I. Don’t. Need. One. - I clenched my jaw.

- Why do you think you’re so special, huh? - The obnoxious girl made a loud scoff, apparently trying to get as many people as possible to look at the whole scene

I was about to open my mouth and replace her. The things running into my mind to say that weren't friendly at all, but when I saw Gerard, weaving through the crowd, with that cute smile I loved so much and his hazel eyes sparkling under the dim lights, relief flooded me.

- Gee! - I called, waving at him.

- Sugar! - His face lit up when he saw me. 

 He practically ran over, slipping an arm around my waist and pulling me close.

- There you are, - he murmured, pressing a quick kiss to my temple. - I’ve been looking for you everywhere.

- So was I,- I said with a grin, running my hand along his cheek and pulling him in for a proper kiss. 

His lips met mine slowly, sweetly, in that overly dramatic way only Gerard could pull off. And, of course, I made sure the smug fan saw every second of it.

When we finally pulled apart, I glanced at her. The look on her face was priceless. Eyes wide, mouth agape, disbelief painted across every feature. I couldn’t resist shooting her a wicked grin.

- That’s why I don’t need a VIP pass, - I murmured just loud enough for her to hear.

- What? - Gerard blinked, confused but amused. 

- Never mind.-  I held his leather jacket, pulling him for a kiss again, smirking against his lips before pulling away. - But next time, babe, can you make sure I get a VIP pass?

I know that wasn’t nice for me to doing this, but damn it was so fun. I made sure to get the most touchy possible while we’re talking, hands under his jacket, hugging him.

- Why? - He raised an eyebrow, grinning.

- Because I really don’t want to have to punch your fans. -  I wrinkled my nose playfully.

- You wouldn’t-

- Oh, I would,- I teased, cutting him off - For you? In a heartbeat.

He let out a soft whine, squeezing me tighter. 

- But they’re not like groupies… just enthusiastic fans, babe, you know that.

I gave him a sly look. 

- Sure, Gee. Whatever you say. - I packed his lips one last time before we walked away together.

___________________________________________

~ Soo that's it! Lemme know if u liked it! <3

[star-farer]

white lies and dear laughter

Summary: Naive little clones will ever be teased by fond fathers. AU: Ik'aad Taglist: @kybercrystals94 @fionas-frenzy @padawancat97 @margindoodles2407 @dreamsight73 @groguandthebadbatch @sskim-milkk @leapingbadger

Author's Note: A Merry Christmas to each and every one of you! Apologies for how late this has been released, but I did want to write one as a Christmas present all the same! Hope you all had a wonderful and blessed Christmas!

Wrecker, munching on his third ration bar of the hour (courtesy of Crosshair having pilfered extras from the mess hall), found himself under the squinty-eyed scrutiny of their youngest one quiet evening on Tipoca City. Or as quiet as a forever-storming planet could get, at least.

“Buir,” said Omega, standing on her tiptoes with one little hand holding his shoulder for balance, gently poking the side of his face, “Wha’ happen’ to your ear?”

The sounds of Tech’s tinkering came to a halt; Hunter’s mug of tea paused halfway to his mouth; Crosshair pulled the red paintbrush away from the pauldron with tense shoulders. The fabric of time pinched in a grimace, hanging suspended for what seemed like one very long moment. A silence spanned the distance between the brothers across the barracks, thick enough to be cut into neat cubes and given to keep Clone Force 99 (hungry daughter included) full for an entire week.

But Wrecker had been waiting for this question for a very long time.

And by that, he meant ever since he'd first held her.

“Oh,” he said, swallowing his bite of ration bar and laughter. It took a significant amount of willpower not to grin, but he managed it all the same, ducking his head just in case his face betrayed him.

“You ate it, tracyn.”

Hunter choked on his tea.

One of Tech’s fingers lifted with his fisted hand in that way it always did before a lecture, but a paintbrush struck his goggled face before he could say anything else.

Crosshair glared at him to shut up unless you want more red paint across your cheeks.

Frowning, Tech took the hint.

“What?!” Omega squeaked, drawing back a little to search his face

“Wrecker,” Hunter reprimanded weakly, shaking with coughs.

Wrecker only looked back at her with what he hoped was a convincing show of sincerity. “Uh-huh! You were real hungry one night, so you snuck up to my bunk and chewed my ear right off.”

Little mouth agape, she turned back to poke at the scarred shell of his ear once more. He didn’t register much feeling there anyways, but she was still very careful when she touched the area.

“An’ wha’ ‘bout this one?” she demanded, her eyebrows knitting together. He heard more than felt her finger tapping the atrophied skin close beside his ear, the soft and muted little thuds of her fingertip against his bone like the way a heart beat against a sternum.

He shrugged. “You screamed so loud one night it made my skin fall off.”

That made her go very quiet as she stared at the side of his head. The barracks fell into yet another bout of heavy silence, all four of the clones giving their whole attention to the girl by Wrecker’s side. The rain outside was loud and insistent, muffled though it was by the thick transparisteel. It felt like a collective breath was being held, the anticipation of Omega’s reaction simply too great to bear.

For a second, he wondered if he’d gone too far.

Her finger trailed along his scars, ever so tender in the way it traced out crooked shapes and patterns. “Hurts?”

Well, hurt isn’t the exact word a clone commando would use, least of all a 99 enhanced for strength. Itchy, yes. Sensitive, maybe a little. Sometimes there was a dull ache around the region, other times it felt like he was standing right next to a star going supernova.

But he’d given Omega enough to think about for one rotation, he decided, so he settled on simplicity. “A little, ya know? Sometimes.”

A small, sad noise erupted from the back of her throat, and she looked into his mismatched eyes earnestly, her brown gaze sparkling. “Can I kiss it better?”

He blinked, startled.

Then smiled, warm and true, affection melting his heart.

“’Lek Om’ika,” he laughed fondly, “You can kiss it better.”

And like the sun piercing through Kamino’s storms, her face lit up bright, her mouth spreading in a wide and toothy grin.

Once more pushing up to her tiptoes, even though he bent for her sake, she reached up and pecked, ever so kindly and sweetly, first his temple and then his ear.

“All better,” she declared triumphantly, leaning back and patting the scars.

Past her happy face and over her bouncing curls, his brothers were all watching with a soft joy that was common in her presence. He wondered if he looked anything like them when he gazed at her, then quickly dismissed that thought as stupid because of course he did.

With yet another hearty laugh — something else that was common in her presence — he hooked an arm around her little form, drew her close, and pressed a lingering kiss to one round cheek, smiling when she squealed and giggled.

“Everything’s always better with you, ner ik’aad.”

[enigmatist17]

Wheeljack groaned as his optics twinged, doorwings twitched as the sensory overload from...whatever had enveloped him in light made his helm spin.

"Oooooow what was that?" Oh Primus the sparkling, he forgot they'd been training.

"Are you alright little one?" The little femme currently pinned to the ground under his leg only groaned, Wheeljack moving his leg to free her as he looked around. Twitch shot up to hover beside the taller mech as she shook some soil from the top of her helm, already buzzing with a dozen questions.

"I'm okay! What was that light? And where is this place? Oh, did we teleport?! Can you teleport and just never told me?" Wheeljack finally got up to his feet, scanner out and receiving readings he hadn't seen in a long time. "Wait, where's Starscream? He was right next to you!"

"I don't know, but why don't we go and find out?" Twitch turned to look at him, servos pressed together in concern. "What's the matter?"

"I-I can't feel the others, i-it's like they're too far away." Wheeljack motioned for her to perch on his shoulder, waving his scanner around before pinpointing a location beyond the treeline. "Do you think they're okay?"

"I'm sure they are sweet Spark, your family is a tough one."

"You're right!" Wheeljack thanked Primus for her neverending optimism, following the (begrudgingly) familiar seeker EMF he'd picked up. They had barely cleared the treeline when the sounds of gunfire rang out, and both mechs shot forward to get a look at the valley that emerged below them. Starscream had indeed teleported with them, and was hiding behind some fallen logs, Wheeljack's spark nearly stopping at precisely who was firing upon the tentative ally.

"Hey, you leave him alone!" Twitch shrieked, transforming into her drone mode to fly down at the fight, missing a bot that moved to fire on the new perceived threat. Wheeljack beat them to it by disarming the bot, the inventor activating his battle mask as he ran after the sparkling.

"Twitch get out of here!" Starscream hissed, firing back for the first time with his null ray in an attempt to draw fire.

"No! You stop hurting my friend!" Twitch stopped in front of Starscream, shield active in an attempt to keep him safe.

"Is that a sparkling?!" One of the other bots hissed, only to go silent when Wheeljack slid to a stop in front of both Twitch and Starscream with his gun armed and raised. "Wheeljack?!"

"Everyone hold yer fire!" The four mechs he knew were hiding behind cover all paused, eyeing each other in confusion and suspicion. "Now, I may not know what's goin' on, but if you harm this sparklin', you answer to me."

"Yea, Dad2 is really good at fighting, so you'd better listen!" Wheeljack was grateful his mask was up, covering the grin that crossed his face despite the situation.

"....Dad2?" Wheeljack's aim trembled when a familiar mech stood, doorwings high and taught as they regarded the other. "Who are you? And how is it you have come across a sparkling?"

"You know who I am P...Prowl, and I'm ashamed ta admit I don't quite know how we got here, at least not yet." Twitch transformed back to her base mode to more than a few surprised noises, flying behind Starscream's cover to land beside him. She may not understand what's happening, but Wheeljack always had her back, so she focused on her potentially wounded ally.

"Are you okay? Did they shoot you?" Her orange wings twitched in concern as the seeker shook his helm, a clawed servo gently patting the top of her helm as Starscream kept an eye on the various Autobots.

"I shall be fine young Twitch." He moved his servo so Twitch could hold it, the small femme urging him to stand as she stared down the opposition.

"You cannot be serious the sparkling trusts Starscream." A smaller red mech's jaw dropped when Starscream got to his pedes, the Decepticon looking...well, looking far different from the one they'd fought a few solar-cycles ago.

"Starscream is my friend, be nice!" The little femme hissed, one of the taller mechs unable to stop a snort at the sight.

"Starscream is no one's friend." The red mech moved to step forward, but stopped when Wheeljack raised his blaster in warning. "This is unbelievable, it has to be some sort of trap!"

"This would be the weirdest, and most importantly, least thought-out trap I've ever seen then." A black and white mech shrugged, Twitch staring at him momentarily before her eyes flashed in recognition.

"Omigosh, you're Jazz." The smallest bot's wings twitched as the mech regarded her, visor glinting in the sun as he tilted his helm before stepping forward with a smile, servos up in peace.

"I'm honored little lady." Twitch could feel Starscream tensing up behind her, but the seeker remained where he stood as she approached the other bot, clearly curious as the other Autobots revealed themselves.

"Dad is going to be so jealous!" The squeal she let out startled everyone except Wheeljack and Starscream, the femme waving her servos in excitement. "Jazz, Prowl, Cliffjumper, Bluestreak, and Hound?! Ohmigosh, this is the coolest thing ever! Wait, are we going to the Ark? I've only ever seen the old documentaries about it, and if I got pictures, the others would be soooo jealous!"

"Twitch, darlin', ease up." Wheeljack finally holstered his gun and retracted his battle mask, noting the surprised look on the other mech's faces. "We still don't know what's goin' on."

"On that, we can agree." Starscream drawled, the feigned disinterest he was going for betrayed by his wings rigid with tension as he watched Twitch moving to examine an amused Hound's frame.

"I have already commed for reinforcements; they should arrive soon enough." Prowl approached Wheeljack with a slight hum, eyeing the nearby Decepticon with a glare. "The sparkling, she speaks of us like one does a figure in a historical sense."

"Well..." Wheeljack made sure Twitch was sufficiently distracted before leaning closer to his old commander and shaking his helm in regret. "Most of you are dead, have been fer a long time."

"...I see."

What else was there to say?

Most of the older bots were entertained by Twitch's neverending enthusiasm while they waited for whatever Autobots had been dispatched, the mere sight of a sparkling after so long lifting their sparks. Starscream tensed even further when he picked up more than a few EMF's before long, glancing down when Wheeljack moved to stand beside him.

"Doin' alright there?"

"What do you think? As you undoubtedly surmised, we are back in the War, and most of you tend to shoot first and ask questions later."

"I seem ta recall you doin' the exact same thing." The seeker glared at the deadpan response, wings flicking in a rude gesture the other only scoffed at. "Really?"

"I could do more, but the sparkling has already picked up a few, ones that Lieutenant Malto seems to know for some fragging reason." Wheeljack couldn't help but let out a loud laugh, audial fins flashing in amusement as Starscream grumbled. "SIience, you fool."

"Oh not a chance." The moment is lost when four bots drive into view, transforming to reveal Optimus Prime, Bumblebee, Ratchet, and....himself.

"Whoa." Both engineers were sizing each other up in equal parts, curiosity and suspicion, interrupted when Twitch flew up to hover between the two with wide optics.

"This is so cool!" Before either mech could respond, she was zipping over to Bumblebee, hovering beside her mentor with a curious tilt of her helm. "I don't really know how I feel about this."

"Um...do we know each other?" Bumblebee regarded her in confusion as Optimus stepped forward, kneeling down with a friendly smile.

"Greetings, little one." Primus above, he hadn't seen a sparkling so small before, watching her optics flash in recognition before she was suddenly hugging his neck. "I see you enjoy giving hugs."

"Twitch, ease up lil' bitlet." Wheeljack shook his helm as she let go of the Autobot leader, noting Ratchet was staring at her with an intense expression. "Sorry, she's an excitable lil' thing ain't she?"

"That she is old friend." Twitch moved to hover beside Starscream as Optimus stood back up, regarding the seeker with a frown. "You must have truly come from another place, Starscream is very much our enemy."

"I'm not exactly chummy on the best of days." The seeker snapped back without hesitation, his expression faltering when Twitch crossed her arms, earning more than a few surprised looks at Starscream folding to a sparkling. "However, I do not target Autobots or those squishy little humans...most of the time."

"What he really means is he's too busy nerding out in Nightshade's lab like, all the time." Twitch rolled her optics, putting her servos on her hips. "Honestly, it took me weeks to drag you out long enough for aerial tactic lessons."

"It was not weeks, you insolent little sparkling." Starscream moved to say something else before he froze, whipping his helm around to stare at a distant cluster of trees with his wings hiking up in alert.

"Starscream?"

"We are being observed."

"Then let us continue this conversation elsewhere." Prowl narrowed his optics at the position Starscream had pointed out, Hound and Bluestreak transforming and heading out without a command. "We must not let the Decepticons get hold of any of them."

"Go, I remember where the Ark used to be." The seeker waved one servo before jumping up and transforming into his alt mode with one move, blasting off after the two Autobots.

"He shouldn't go alone." Twitch protested, but remained where she was when Wheeljack shook his helm.

"No, you're the priority here. Besides, Hound and Bluestreak'll keep him right as rain, you can trust me on that." After one last look at Starscream's retreating form, she nodded, Wheeljack transforming into his alt and popping open his door. "Come on sweetling, it's a bit of a drive."

"How can I turn down a free ride from Dad2!"

"Dad2?" Ratchet stared as the Lancia drove off, the medic already running through a list of what to scan for as the other Autobots shared bemused looks before following after.

[funny-fella-fantrolls]

Oh damn, that's one bright outfit/. Basically blinding me over here/. I'm sure you're great, but on a physical level I'm finding it difficult to even look at you/.

I'm gonna be honest, gonna give you like... a 6/? Love the commitment to your style, just... not my thing, really/. Keep doing you, though/.

fuck it

Judgements

((y'all know how it be, reblog with a character and the funny dog man will judge them))

[toriluvsnickwayne]

Carnival

Will Ospreay x Reader

Requested : yes/no

Will and his fiancée decide to go out and spend the day with Skye Blue and Kyle Fletcher at the carnival.

Masterlist

Y/N’S POV:

I grasped Will's hand, my fiancé, as we strolled through the carnival. The smell of sugary treats and fried delights filled the air, making my stomach growl. My best friend, Skye, chattered excitedly beside me, her boyfriend Kyle by her side. Will's best mate, Kyle, grinned mischievously, suggestin' we compete in a series of carnival games.

"Hey, Y/N, you think you can take me down in ring toss?" Kyle teased, nudgin' me playfully.

"Bring it on, Kyle!" I replied, grinnin' confidently. "I'm gonna show you who's boss!"

Will chuckled and squeezed me hand. "Easy, love. Don't wanna get too cocky."

I playfully rolled me eyes. "Shut it, Will. I got this."

As we walked, we decided to ride the Ferris wheel first. Will and Kyle carried on, tryin' to wind each other up about who'd scream the loudest. Skye and I just laughed and snapped photos, enjoyin' the banter.

"I'm tellin' you, Will, I'm gonna scream so loud, they'll hear me from the other side of the carnival!" Kyle boasted.

"Oh yeah? I'll have you know, I've been practicin' I’ve been screaming in the mirror. I'm like a rockstar!" Will shot back.

Skye giggled. "Boys and their egos, huh?"

I grinned. "Hey, at least they're entertainin'."

After waitin' in line for a bit, we finally climbed into the Ferris wheel carriage. As we lifted off the ground, the carnival lights sparkled like diamonds below us. Will wrapped his arm around me shoulders, pullin' me close.

"Love this view," he whispered, his lips brushin' my ear.

I smiled, feelin' happy and content. "Me too, Will."

After the Ferris wheel, we headed to the games section. Will and Kyle challenged Skye and me to a series of competitions – balloon darts, test-your-strength, and even a hilarious round of "whack-the-mole". The boys were determined to win, but Skye and I held our own, gigglin' and jokin' as we played.

At one point, Will tried to impress me with his strength, grunting and flexin' as he swung the mallet. I teased him mercilessly, sayin' he was showin' off, but he just winked and said, "Hey, someone's gotta keep you safe from the strongman competition!"

Kyle snorted. "Yeah, 'cause nothin' says 'intimidatin' wrestler' like a giant, fluffy sparkly robe!"

Will chuckled. "Hey, this robe is iconic! And it's comfy, too."

Skye and I laughed. "Comfy?" I repeated. "You look like a giant, sparkly bear in it!"

Will grinned. "That's the idea. I'm a fierce, sparkly bear in the ring."

Kyle chuckled. "Fierce? You're more like a cuddly, sparkly teddy bear, Will."

Will playfully shoved Kyle. "Shut it, Kyle. You're just jealous of me sparkly robe."

As the night wore on, we took a break from the games and indulged in some sweet treats – cotton candy, funnel cakes, and popcorn. Will pulled me close, his arm around me shoulders. "Loving every minute of this, Y/N," he whispered, his eyes sparklin' with happiness.

I smiled, feelin' grateful for this joyful evening with the people I loved. "Me too, Will. This has been the perfect night.”

Author’s Note : Heyyyy back on trackkkkkkkk with everything all I’ve got a few headcnons and blurbs for the most random ppl that I might js start dropping randomly along with the other fics planned!! As always lots of love - Tori 💋❤️

[jev-urisk]

WIP Wednesday ✍️

I finally finished draft 3 of chapter 8!! 🙌 I'm trying REAL hard to congratulate myself for it and savor the win because next... next is the first Kazimier POV 💋 chapter of 🌐7 Circles🌐: Ch9, Tea Time. Here's a clip of it for yall.

After letting Kazimier out in the morning, Klaus took them both out into the world and its bright, sparkling nonsense. That’s basically what came outta demon’s mouths when they had the poor taste to open them- Bright. Sparklin’. Nonsense. And Klaus is fuckin’ fluent. He had every first class dame and half of the brutes cooing congratulations over him turnin’ a century old and getting saddled with slave number one.

And oh boy, was Kazimier a favorite topic in these conversations. Just like that Demyen guy at that pompous shindig, they’d ask Klaus ‘What his first act of reformation will be’ along with what’s next- what the ‘final product’ of Kazimier would look like. And damn Klaus, he didn’t give any of them (including Kazimier) a damn thing to work with.

I AM excited to show Kazimier off! It's just going to take some extra time to finish this chapter bc there's some summarizing from Kazimier's POV, and I have to carefully balance letting Kazimier's voice in but not so much that the prose feels like it belongs to a different book than the rest 💀 Also rn it's at almost 7k words and I think it needs streamlining..

7C taglist: @gioiaalbanoart @biblicallyaccuratefruitbat @lychhiker-writes @autism-purgatory

@wyked-ao3 @cowboybrunch @zackprincebooks @smellyrottentrees @tragedycoded

@aalinaaaaaa @the-golden-comet @quillswriting @nbkuhn @ddgraywrites

@desastreus @theglitchywriterboi @shanakin-skywalker @honeybewrites @sincerelydorky

[witchofthesouls]

I love your thought of Tarn being fascinated by the tiny invaders in his quarters. Mech goes so hard on sparkling proofing his room. It actually starts looking like normal quarters. The First Editions and other Creepy Stuff™️ are carefully packed up and stored away. Tarn starts reading the convolutedly obtained sparklin guides and rigorously prepares the room to be Sparlking Safe Deceptacon™️.

Plus if the DJD alies with Deathsaurus, Deathsarus has a very different reaction to Tarn's room. Mech immediately melts into a cooing mess at the bitties. Immediately wants to spoil the sparklings.

His room is clear to begin with. Tarn has a walk-in closet that's absolutely Dedicated to Megatron. Tarn wants to make sure it's a well-kept and clean area, after all. Plus, there are too many limited editions to keep out in the open, especially the early renditions of Towards Peace upon miners' corpses.

Tarn does get into newspark guides and bitlet development. You and Nickel do smack datapads and run away with recovered chips because, well, Functionism. Because Tarn is adamant about it, you and Nickel do cobble up a learning guide that's geared to these bitties. (Of course, there's other guides for other frames because Tarn got interested. The nerd.)

It leads to more blankets, padding, and pillows, which kicks your nesting instinct into unsuspressable overdrive. Tarn is getting fascinated by the entire process since you dedicate all your energy into it: deeply entwining your own biosignature into the materials, getting it into a proper placement, reshaping a nest-like structure, fluffing up everything, and keeping the three newsparks inside the middle.

And your considerable wells. You're pumping sparkling fuel and stocking the medbay and the habsuite, just in case. Cubes of very pale pink Energon lines the shelves and in a neat stack in one of his closets. It doesn't slosh easily like the fuel he's used to. It's thick and viscous, leaving a film on a partial filled container where he can see granules of curious substances.

He will never admit how his spark turns to mush and oozes out of its chamber when a blind, soft-plating tiny thing grabs his pinky. Or how he locks his entire frame when the split-sparks settle upon his chassis, cozy and comforted by his spark. Or how he tries not to grind into you during recharge, how heated you've become with the second carriage, especially around your middle.

If the DJD ever joins with Deathsaurus, then it's going to be awkward with all the rumors and misunderstandings running around. No one has ever seen you, so some think the Witnessed Acts documentation was a hoax or a prank. But not Deatbsaurus, he can smell the faint, lingering sweetness of sparkling fuel on Tarn.

At first. Deathsaurus is extremely leery because what kind of mech would willingly pledge their spark to Tarn? But then, there's no sign of them anywhere. It really doesn't help that he can vaguely understand Primal Venacular and makes a huge blunder from Vos' and Kaon's quiet exchanges.

The sheer pandemonium that will happen when Deathsaurus tears through the ship, thinking the worst, but really, you're just too exhausted with the second carriage. It's taking a huge toll on your frame, so you're basically nesting most of your time as you care for the newsparks with a couple of others checking on you, like Nickel, Kaon, and Vos since the gunformer enjoys your mental exercises on the dearly departed Deadzone.

[anon-e-miss]

The Desert Blooms - 10

“I know it wasn’t an easy decision,” Jazz told Prowl. 

Crowds had lined the streets cheering as they had ridden to the temple in a sedan chair. They had not come across as vindictive or wrathful to Prowl. He had searched the faces of thousands of mechanisms for hatred and he had only found jubilation. With singular joy, they had cheered the return of Amalgamous’ sparkline to the throne of Polyhex far more loudly than they were cheering Barricade and he taking the Touch of Adaptus. The worst of the indolent fool’s excesses had been well hidden and well managed during his life. If he had not been assassinated while serving as Prime in Iacon, there was no telling how much worse it would have gotten for Polyhex. He had named Zeta Major, Prowl’s eldest uncle his heir. The same uncle who had first attempted to murder Camshaft when they had been small sparklings. Zeta Prime had known who had arranged for this and had allowed his originator, the Emperor to collect on his debts by invading Polyhex. Perhaps it was karma that Zeta had been assassinated by Sentinel. Regardless, Prowl did not grieve the mech and unlike Amalgamous there was no cult in Praxus celebrating him. Windbreaker had only made a token show of anger at the murder of his first emerged. A simple bribe had been enough to see him turn his troops away from Polyhex. Sentinel had overpaid. Those troops had been simple conscripts pained to look like noble creations, trained from emergence for war. Zeta had not been worth even a single battalion of Praxus’ elite troops.

Barricade and Ricochet had been ushered off into their own room. Prowl wished he was not here to endure this but Barricade would not go and Prowl had made his peace with it. Jazz kept him company as they waited. As they spoke, priests were brewing the tisane that would unmech him. He had come to the temple wearing his armour, polished to a shine, he would leave in a silk gown. Already, it was hanging over the chair in the sitting room. The material was so fine, that Prowl hardly felt it against his sentio-metallico. To think this was what he was to wear for the rest of his life. It was unlikely he would be permitted to wear armour as Punch did, no matter the circumstances. Though having seen the welts and sores armour left on the revolutionary Touched, Prowl did not believe he would be terribly inclined to break that convention. In for a thoughtful touch, Punch had woven the cloth himself, creating a beautiful floral pattern. He had woven silks for Barricade as well in rich purple and black. It had been the norm when Punch had been Touched that the silks they wore to be perfectly sheer, simmering white. Prowl thought he understood why and it had nothing to do with the fragility of the Touched. Pigment and embroidery, done correctly added some modestly to a Touched’s garb and modestly was not their due. Would there be grumbling when he stepped out in his for the first time? The gown was sheer where there was no embroidery but there was embroidery over his array and his wells. His spark chamber would be bare between the panels of silk that made his bustier. It could hardly be called a chest plate.

“It was not as hard as I would have wished,” Prowl replied, twisting the soft silk of the gown’s skirt with his digits. 

His vestigial claws had been painted gold. Punch has not been sure if they would fall off as he was changed or if they would impale his digits internally if they were sheathed so for the time being, they were on display, perhaps they always would be. Would they still grow? The Emperor’s were long, as long as each digit in length and he kept them painted red and viciously sharp. His originator had always kept his claws short and unpolished and Prowl had always done the same. Camshaft and not seen the point of lacquer when he dug in the garden as often as he could. 

“Barricade would not have liked it if I had chosen death but he would have understood my reasoning, even though he disagreed with it. I could not have explained it to Bluestreak. He would have only known more pain, more loss. I was not sure if his little spark could take it. After I spoke to Ratchet, he confirmed my fears, there was really no choice at all.”

“Do ya regret’m imprinting on ya?” Jazz asked.

“No,” Prowl replied, smoothing the silks he had wrinkled. “Maybe I should?”

“Ya got a spark for love, nurture‘n protection,” Jazz declared and Prowl found his cheek plates warming. “Ya don’t regret doin’ what ya did for my framekin, do ya?” 

“No.”

“Even now?” Jazz asked. “Knowin’ that they celebrate what’s comin’?”

“Do they not see it as a blessing?” Prowl asked. “In the Lower and the Least?”

“Yeah,” Jazz replied. “They don’t know better.”

“Exactly,” Prowl replied. “They do not know better.”

“Y’re a good mech,” Jazz replied. “I can’t give ya the life ya deserve but I’ll do right by ya.” 

“Thank you,” Prowl said. “Punch is a fine mech, one of the finest I have met. You and Ricochet do him great honour as his creations. I believe you will show yourselves worthy as kings.”

“I hope you’ll be willin’ to advise us.”

“Of course.”

Punch brought Bluestreak to him a final time before the ceremony. The bitlet all but threw himself from Punch’s arms and into Prowl’s. He clung so hard, digging his tiny, clawed digits into his armour. Bluestreak latched hard, harder than he ever had and he suckled with great urgency. Prowl stroked his back and crooned to him. Since Bluestreak had fully imprinted on him, the bitlet had not been away from Prowl’s side for even a moment and this mega-cycle they had been apart for two joors already as Prowl had been detailed from ped to helm and the pure bitlet was beside himself. The violent loss of his biological family was still far too fresh, Prowl realized and he just could not cope with a prolonged separation. What were they to do after the ceremony?

”Seems like yer gonna have to bring Bitty Blue to us soon as ya think Prowl can handle it,” Jazz said as he stroked Bluestreak’s helm. The touch helped to reassure Bluestreak further and he became less frantic in his nursing. Prowl sighed with relief and he nodded.

”I will,” Punch promised. “I’ll take good care o’m. I promise.”

Prowl trusted him. He knew Punch would dote on Bluestreak even more if only Bluestreak would let him but Bluestreak had become very clinging as soon as Prowl had begun to lactate for him. Punch was one of the two mechanisms that Bluestreak could enjoy a little snuggle with, Barricade was the other. He loathed Ratchet at the moment. All the pain and confusion he had endured had been overlaid onto Ratchet. In time that would fade, Prowl hoped. Eventually, Bluestreak would be old enough to be reasoned with but he was just a tiny bitlet, not even a stellar-cycle old. Prowl wished he knew what his procreators had designated him and what they had been called themselves but their Praxian neighbours had all fled and no Polyhexian neighbour had come forward with information. It was unfair; their creation deserved to know them.

“Y’re sure?” Jazz asked as the temple bells rang. It was time. Prowl cocked his helm.

“Would you prefer if I changed my processor,” he asked.  

“Primus no,” Jazz exclaimed. Prowl raised his doorwings in surprise at the force of Jazz’s cliffs.

“I believe you,” Prowl sighed and his doorwings drooped with relief and he found himself flushed again. Jazz smiled at him and it was a charming smile.

“I don’t wish the Touch on ya, but I wish for death less,” Jazz replied with simple sincerity. “I wish I could think o’ some way to spare ya this that wouldn’t mean war with the chiefs. I wish, I didn’t think sacrificin’ ya was the best answer we were gonna get.”

“I do not wish for any more harm to your framekin,” Prowl said. “They have suffered long enough. I was always intended to be a sacrifice. In this way, I can serve as a shield against the Emperor’s machinations, rather than a convenient excuse for war.”

“I hope some mega-cycle I get to tell yer ori what a good pair o’ mechs he raised,” Jazz replied.

“I cannot imagine Originator being permitted to come here,” Prowl said and he grieved that with all his spark. He missed Camshaft dearly. He wished he could tell him that he was going to the temple and to the Touch with a clear helm. If Camshaft ever did make his way to Darkmount, it would not bode well for Jazz or Ricochet.

“From what ya told me, he ain’t the sort to ask permission,” Jazz replied.

No, Camshaft had never been inclined to ask permission from the Emperor and unlike the adage that it was better to ask for forgiveness than permission, Camshaft did not ask his originator’s forgiveness when he did as his willed. But Windbreaker was both cruel and petty and he knew his second creation perfectly well. It would hurt him to be forever separated from his creation, just as it would hurt Prowl, the most reviled of his grandcreations and Prowl had no doubt Windbreaker would make it all but impossible for them to reunite. Prowl prayed his originator faced this cruelty with stoicism and not temper. He did not want Camshaft killed. Perhaps, in time, one of his uncles, or perhaps his aunt would draw the focus of Windbreaker’s ire and Camshaft would have the chance then. Windbreaker hated Camshaft even more than he hated Prowl. It would take quite a grievous error to distract the emperor’s wrath from spiting his Second emerged.

Symbolically, it needed to appear that the one to be Touched went to the blessing willingly. The fact force was applied in the background, as it had been for Punch, as it was now for Prowl and Barricade, could not be on show. Prowl imagined there had been times when mechanisms took the Touch fully willing but Prowl suspected more often than not there was familial pressure and manipulation behind it. No mechanism after Prowl and Barricade would be faced with this pressure. Jazz and Ricochet had stayed out on the burning sands until the playing on their legs and arms had burnt and blistered to ensure they found every crystal and destroyed every one. They would go out again, Jazz had told him, at least once a vorn to make certain no new crystals ever grew.

Prowl stood in the doorway and waited. He saw Barricade take a goblet from from the priest at his own door and brush past the mech mid-blessing. He walked past Prowl to join him in his room. Prowl lightly dipped his doorwings as Ricochet followed after him. Prowl took poisonous tea from the high priest as the priest Barricade had interrupted, rushed to join him and the priests blessed them both as they exalted Adaptus. Jazz waved them off and closed the door. This was a private thing. Though Prowl would be presented when the ordeal was over, to show all, mostly the court, it had been done. Setting the poison down, Prowl removed his armour as Punch had advised. Prowl shrugged his doorwings as the others watched anxiously as he retrieved the poison and drank it down.

Pain!

He screamed but no sound came out. Prowl felt to the floor, saved from falling flat on his face by Jazz’s quick catch. It felt like Jazz’s digits were digging into his plating. Over and over Prowl wretched as it felt like shards of glass carved their way through his fuel tank and energon lines. It felt like acid was burning through his array. Servos cupped his helm as he writhed on the floor. The carpet scratched his sentio-metallico; it felt like hundreds of small knives cutting over and over. A keen deafened him and for a moment Prowl thought it was his own but his spark flared and Prowl dragged himself onto his knees and he crawled towards the door. Bluestreak. Bluestreak was hurting. His legs gave way as the poison burned like acid through his array. Was he leaking energon? It felt like he must have been. Though it felt like the carpet would skin him, Prowl pushed himself up onto his elbows. Bluestreak. Bluestreak. The door flew open and the keening became louder.

“What’s wrong with him?” Barricade demanded.

“He feels it through the bond,” Punch explained. “Jazz, help’m sit up.”

“I don’t wanna hurt’m,” Jazz sounded distressed.

“Ya will,” Punch replied. “It can’t be helped.”

“‘M sorry Prowl,” Jazz crooned and he pulled Prowl into his arms. Prowl thrashed. A cry finally escaped his vocalizer. Jazz was crushing him!

“Hold the bitty to his chassis,” Punch ordered.

“Won’t that make it worse?” Jazz asked. A weight like a boulder pressed against his chassis. Bluestreak’s spark screamed against his and Prowl stopped his thrashing and crossed his arms over the bitlet and trembled with pain beyond agony. His ventilations came in hisses as he tried to still his spark so as to soothe Bluestreak.

“No,” Punch replied. He stroked a tear from Prowl’s faceplate. “Their sparks were feeding off each other, creatin’ a loop that mighta been strong ‘nough to gutter’em both.”

“Fraggin’ pit,” Jazz cursed. “‘M so sorry Prowl.”

“Are they okay?” Barricade asked.

“I think the worst is o’er,” Punch said. “Barricade…”

“Ya don’t gotta do this,” Ricochet sounded panicked as he caught Barricade’s wrist. Prowl looked up at his brother and saw a will of fire.

“I only waited in case this was some trick,” Barricade said. He pulled his wrist free and took a step back. Prowl locked optics with his brother. “You aren’t getting rid of me.”

[wistsandmagic]

“Why can’t we just talk about it —”

"We've already talked about it, Prowler," Jazz growled from his side of the door, holding it shut with his shoulder, despite Prowl having given up trying to shove it open. "We've talked about it, an' talked about it, for years, an' you still don't bother t'question before you go off an' do somethin' like this wi'out seein' if your TAC-net's gettin' you losin' your common sense again!" "But it turned out just fine!" Prowl protested, leaning his head against the front door to the apartment he shared (normally shared) with his furious Conjunx, his doorwings drooping just slightly. "The Twins -- both sets, Jazz! -- came out of things just fine, just as I had ascertained they would!" Jazz was silent, staring mutely at the door. He could feel Prowl's EM field flickering toward him, and he resolutely shoved it aside, pulling his own so close as to nearly have it inside his skin. He did not want Prowl touching him at the moment. He let the silence carry, too angry to immediately allow himself to speak, and he could feel Prowl's unease rising from the other side of the door. "Jazz--" "'Just fine'." Jazz's voice was quiet. "Is it 'just fine' that those four 've worried their parents half'ta death for the past two months, not knowin' where they were? Younglin's not even old enough ta have jobs in the old days, out on their own, radio-silent under your orders, infiltratin' a Decepticon hold-out all the way out in Darkmount!?" He let some of his anger pulse out through the door, and the way it creaked, Prowl had physically recoiled from it. "Is it 'just fine' that two'a them are our nephews, an' their poor triplet's been so worried she ain't hardly eat for those two months 'cause she could barely feel her brothers? Windblade's sick 'cause'a your stupidity! Sunny and Sideswipe are havin' night-terrors 'cause'a your stupidity! Primus only knows what the Jet-Twins are goin' through, they ain't left Starscream and Skyfire's sight since they got back, because'a your stupidity!" The longer he spoke, the louder Jazz had gotten, until he was nearly yelling through the door, his voice more frustrated and furious than Prowl had ever heard him, his tape deck whirring so loud that it made a feasible substitute for an engine rumble. "We've talked about this, about you givin' in ta the TAC-net an' not even thinkin' about the livin' consequences of your actions, til I'm blue in the face."

The level of emotion Jazz was feeling was making him hyperventilate. He could feel Prowl's annoyance, his bewilderment, his underlying guilt that proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that his husband had known what he had done was wrong, not just from a safety perspective, but moraly and familially wrong, and had known from the beginning, and yet he had chosen to ignore it to go with what his battle computer had told him was the logical choice. The conflicting sensations made Jazz feel physically ill. He wrenched the door open, leaving the chain on to prevent Prowl from entering. He looked up, but he couldn't stand the thought of looking Prowl in the face, so he stared over his shoulder, at the silently-glowering Optimus Prime keeping Prowl from retreating away from their front steps.

"You put those kids in mortal danger," Jazz hissed. "I don't care if they are technic'ly Autobots 'n bear the brand, that was necessity, this stunt was not. They're younglin's, Prowl, barely outta sparklin' age, and two'a them are our nephews. You know better."

The sparkbreak trembling through Jazz's voice, under the anger, made Prowl's words die on his tongue. He couldn't deny it. He did know better, but his battle computer had given his plan a 93% chance of success if it involved the Jet-twins and the two boys of Blurr and Vortex's triplets, utilizing the boys' bond as best friends and twin-sets. He'd known their parents wouldn't agree, because of the danger and the age of the younglings, had known then what he was doing was wrong and morally reprehensible on some level, and thus had told the boys to not tell their parents, to fabricate an argument and 'run away' for this mission.

He'd known.

The betrayal in Jazz's eyes, barely visible through his visor, said that he knew it too. Prowl had known, and Prowl had done it anyway. Prowl had ignored his Conjunx's pleading to listen to his spark and not his battle computer now that peacetime was upon them, had ignored the work they'd done together to help Prowl overcome the urge to fall into the battle computer's calculations for everything.

Jazz couldn't even look him in the eye. He was so angry that Prowl couldn't feel him; it was like trying to touch an empty shell. He'd never been this angry at him, not even when Prowl had bad-mouthed Soundwave near the beginning of the war.

Jazz was so upset now that he was trembling, the sound of his tape-deck rewind wheels screaming as he fought to keep himself under some kind of control. Jazz didn't lose control, but the fact that he was visibly struggling now was a bit...frightening. "Jazzy, we can talk about this," Prowl tried to soothe, feeling something in him shatter just a little bit when Jazz shook his head, finally deigning to look the taller Praxian in the eye. The hurt in Jazz's expression was agonizing. "No, Prowler, we can't," Jazz finally said, his jaw working hard as he fought back the words he didn't want to say, though the agonized, furious sparkbreak roiling through his frame was all too audible. "You know you did wrong, an' 'til you're willin' to admit you did wrong, apologise to those kids an' their parents...an' to me, you ain't comin' in this house. I don't want you near me."

He looked up, over Prowl's shoulder, and stared at Optimus for a long moment before looking back at his husband, staring resolutely at his chestplate. "...get outta here, Prowl. I'll pack somma your things an' send 'em by Chromedome next time I see 'im."

And with that, he shut the door.

[stevetonyweekly]

SteveTony Weekly - July 16

 Hello, friends! Short list this week because I spent several days re-reading a favorite of mine. Enjoy the list and be sure to leave your authors a comment/kudos! 

What do you think of the new banner?? 

***Recent favorites

~*~ 

***Enchanted by iam93percentstardust

This night is sparklin', don't you let it go

I'm wonderstruck, blushin' all the way home

I'll spend forever wonderin' if you knew

I was enchanted to meet you

~

Steve starts making his way back towards the directions of the cars, wanting to greet her, only to stop dead when he realizes who her date is.

Natasha has brought Tony with her.

Tony of the pictures, of the stories, of Steve’s infatuated little heart even though he’s never met him in person.

***once in a lifetime by meidui 

“You should be worried that I'll break into your apartment, steal your identity and flee the country with all your money,” Steve says, one arm slung lazily across Tony's chest, playing with the key to his safe. “You shouldn't go around handing out keys to people, you know.”

Tony makes a low, offended noise and grabs Steve’s chin, making him laugh. “Is that what you think I do?”

bake my breath away by earliebirb 

Steve develops a crush on one of his bakery's regulars, charming businessman-slash-inventor Tony Stark. He is not stupid enough to think Tony would ever like him back, though.

Besides, Tony is already in a relationship.

As it turns out, Steve might have been wrong about a couple of things.

A Place In My Mind by KandiSheek 

The Avengers all swap bodies, with Steve ending up in Ironman's. It's a nightmare for multiple reasons, mostly because Steve has no idea who Ironman actually is, and he'd rather die than be the one to expose his friend's well-kept secret.

What Ironman doesn't know is that Steve has a secret of his own. One of the mushy, romantic kind. And being this close to Ironman, after all these years of desperately wanting it?

It just might be a bigger temptation than he can resist.

Dark Matter by RurouniHime 

A mission goes wrong with troubling consequences for Steve. (Based in the world of sabrecmc's Celestial Navigation and its sequel Orbital Mechanics)

an anger that you crush and fuel by starvels (dinosaur)

“I’m mad at you,” Natasha says, gripping Steve’s collar so tight the shirt seams strain.

Steve glances down at her hand, and his arm quivers beside her head. “I know,” he says, voice rough.

Symmetry Breaking by Annie D (scaramouche)

After the Battle of New York, Steve rode off on his motorbike. That's how it went the first time.

This time he rides back, all the way to Stark Tower, where he asks Tony for help.

The God of Solid Life Advice by kehinki

It's 2012. Steve is just informed by Loki that Bucky's alive.

Loki also tells him some other things.

The Hazards of Falling in Love (Rescue Me) by EmmaLostInWonderland 

“So that’s your name?” Rogers hasn't looked away from him once. His eyes are a piercing blue, and Tony barely manages to keep from squirming under his gaze.

“Yeah. Or Telecommunications Operator Stark, if we’re getting technical about it.”

“Are we?”

Tony tilts his head slightly. “Depends. Can I call you Steve?”

The man grins. “Wouldn’t have it any other way, Tony.”

// Tony Stark doesn't date firemen. But he'll make an exception for Battalion Chief Steve Rogers.

written for BladeoftheNebula as part of the Stony Loves Steve 2023 Gift Exchange

Trying not to lose my sensibility by Girl_Back_There 

In the weeks leading up to his heat, Steve rethinks about his relationship with Brock. And his fading friendship with Tony.

i'm wonderstruck, dancing around all alone by iam93percentstardust 

The real reason Tony wanted to do this movie, the one that he'll never tell anyone about, was because when he’d asked his agent who would be playing Chris, she’d slyly smiled at him and told him that it was Steve Rogers.

“Oh,” he’d squeaked, cleared his throat, and tried again in a more normal octave, but by then it was too late. Natasha had laughed at him and made the call without even waiting for him to agree to the audition.

He’s not quite sure if he should thank her or fire her for that.

Chamber of Reflection by Thahire 

A few years after retiring, Steve and Tony get a surprise visit from another Steve. Steve Rogers from Earth 1610 is lost, grappling with the new century he’s been unceremoniously dropped in, with confusing feelings for his new teammate, with himself.

Steve and Tony decide to get involved.

Soft Robotics by isozyme 

“I promise this is all non-toxic. The silicone is medical-grade, even.”

Steve makes a choking noise. “I would hope so,” he says, going bright, tomato red as he says it.

Tony makes some cool robots. Steve makes an assumption.

***Celestial Navigation by sabrecmc

Celestial Navigation: 18 year old Omega!Tony finds himself Bonded to Captain Steve Rogers. He isn't happy about it until he is.