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seriowan · 2 years ago

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i…i have no words. my brain has been put in a blender and turned on. i just know that i love this, A LOT. THIS IS SOME FUCKING GOOD FOOD

would you be comfortable writing pegging for crosshair? if so, uh 😳 something femdom like in your collared fic

if not, feel free to ignore. have a wonderful day!

Hey so uh I'm really sorry that this took so long. I have had a lot going on irl atm and tried my hardest to get this out for you within a reasonable timeframe.

Crosshair calls reader sir in this and i consider that entirely gender neutral because like, the clones call Ahsoka sir in the show so im still considering this femdom but its still relatively gender neutral despite the fact that it's afab reader.

Rating: E (18+) Warnings: Pegging, sub!cross, pet names, cross calls reader 'sir' Word Count: 2000+

Masterlist

(I apologies in advance for the quality of this one I have never pegged anyone irl or written pegging before so like..... sorry lmao)

There was a single word in the entirety of Galactic Standard Basic for what Crosshair was being today.

A fucking menace.

He has been snarky, rude, mean, downright unbearable all day. He turned the scathing remarks up to eleven, he was being entirely insufferable. The rest of his squad had absolutely zero idea what came over him so when you turn around in medbay to see the entirety of Clone Force 99 standing there sans Crosshair you knew they were there with a single request.

Control your man.

You let out a sigh as Hunter explains he’s at the shooting range at the moment, blowing off some steam with direct orders not to return to the barracks unless he’s lost his maker forsaken attitude and to probably expect him in your quarters after you finish your shift.

While you and Crosshair had never exactly made an announcement or made anything official, the rest of the Batch weren’t oblivious to the fact the two of you had a relationship of sorts. Him disappearing all night and coming back to the barracks the next day with marks and bites on his neck that mirrored yours was a pretty big hint. They all agreed not to push him about it, he would talk about it in his own time, and they had never brought it up to you. Until now that is.

“I don’t know what you expect me to do about his behaviour, you know as well as I do that when he’s in one of his moods only he can get himself out of it” you sign off a report, marking a group of cadets as medically fit for battle before turning to face the men in front of you.

“Nah you mellow him out big time” Wrecker states as if it was the most obvious thing in the galaxy. You simply raise an eyebrow at the large man before turning to the others. They simply nod in agreement before Hunter speaks up again; “Look we don’t care what’s going on but he’s being an absolutely insufferable di’kut today, and I know it’s not your job to settle him down, but if you could, I don’t know, do something to help calm him down before he comes back to the barracks we would appreciate it” he’s rubbing his temples. Damn, maybe he has been worse than usual.

“He means sex!” Wrecker belts out. Earning a chiding “Don’t be so crass Wrecker” from Tech before he also looks at you “he is correct though” he adjusts his goggles, somewhat uncomfortable with the topic of conversation. You sign off on the rest of your reports before logging off your terminal for the day before gathering your things, looking up at the batch you let out a sigh, “I’ll do what I can but I have no promises that I’ll be able to do anything about him” you power down your terminal and move towards the door to your office, Hunter opening it and ushering his brothers through before throwing a thankful look in your direction and following his squad back towards their barracks.

Its two hours later that there is an alert at your door signalling that you have a visitor. You make your way over to the entrance to your modest quarters, lights turned low, clad in only a thin robe as your door slides open revealing Crosshair, still in his armour, 773 Firepuncher resting against his hip as he taps his foot impatiently against the floor before barging past you into your room.

“Well hello to you too Crosshair” you close the door and turn to face him, watching as he leans his precious rifle against the wall of your room and begins shedding his armour, dropping the hard plastoid haphazardly to the ground before he’s standing before you in just his blacks. “Single braincell sharing di’kuts locked me out of the barracks” he huffs before removing his boots and laying back on your bed.

You chuckle at that, if there was one thing Crosshair could do, it was be very creative with insults. Usually however they were being thrown at the regs, not his own squad. “Well from what I’ve heard you’ve been a little abrasive today Cross” you smile at him, sitting down on the bed next to his stretched-out form, running a hand along his clothed thigh as he relaxes against your pillows, arms folded behind his head as his eyes track the movement of your hand against him. He just huffs, not bothering to deny it.

“Wanna talk about it?” you move fully onto the bed now, kneeling between his legs as your hands continue to soothe circles into the tense muscles.

“No.” he deadpans, eyes tracking the movement of your hands working their way up his calves to his thighs.

“Do you think your brothers deserve to be on the receiving end of your shitty attitude?” you side eye him. You do hate nagging him, but sometimes it does take a gentle nudge for your grump kinda-boyfriend to get the hint.

“No Sir” its almost a whisper, and your eyes widen slightly. Oh, so this is how he wants it to got tonight? Sir is only ever used in one context when it comes to you and Crosshair, usually its Doc or whatever name he chooses from a plethora of pet names he has for you.

Sir only means one thing.

You smirk down at him as he avoids eye contact with you. Crosshair is an experienced man, you knew this when you first started whatever this thing is that the two of you have going on, however he still sometimes has trouble giving up control without feeling well… embarrassed for lack of a better term.

You continue running your hands up his thighs, towards the growing tent in his undersuit, purposely avoiding it and moving your fingers into the waistband of his blacks, peeling the tight fabric from his body. “Blacks off, then hands by your sides. You don’t touch me or yourself unless instructed, understood?” ordering clones around comes rather naturally to you, considering the number of soldiers that seem to dislike medical exams more than separatists, you’ve developed a ‘no nonsense’ tone over your time working on Kamino that also happens to work very well in situations like these.

You move over to your bedside table, retrieving all the necessities, before turning back towards Crosshair who is now naked, hands by his sides and staring up at the ceiling just as you ordered. “Hm, looks like you can follow orders” you sneer at him, and you don’t miss the shudder that wracks his body as he finally makes eye contact with you. You pop open the bottle of lube, coating your fingers with a generous amount before tossing the closed bottle onto the bed. His cock is throbbing, beads of precum shining in the low light before rolling off the tip of his length and leaking onto his toned abs.

“Wider” is all you say, all you need to say as Crosshair opens his legs, allowing you access to his puckered hole. You run a single finger around the rim before slowly breaching him, pushing it inside ever so slowly. You watch his face for any signs of discomfort but his parted lips, rapid breathing and throbbing cock indicate anything but. You add a second finger, slowly scissoring his entrance open, trying to find that perfect spot that will have him coming apart at the seams.

He's writhing and moaning, fists still clenched obediently at his sides as he screws his eyes shut. You’re hitting that perfect spot inside of him over and over again but he knows he can’t cum yet, the two of you have done this enough that he knows he needs your permission to cum.

You run your free hand along his body, avoiding his weeping length, the pads of your fingers glide along his tensing abs as your didgets continue working him open. Once you’re satisfied that he is adequately prepared, you remove your fingers, earning a low groan from the man beneath you as you wipe them on the sheets next to you. “What do you want tonight? You’ve been such a good boy, no touching or talking out of turn. I’ll reward you by letting you decide what you get” you give him a sweet smile as he pants atop your sheets, sweat clinging to his body as he looks over at you with blown pupils.

“I… I want your cock…” you frown down at him, trying to look as disappointed as possible as if the sight of Crosshair looking entirely debauched beneath you wasn’t slowly eroding your dominant façade. “Now here I was about to reward you for being a good boy… that’s no way to ask for what you want” you stand up off the bed, moving to tie the robe tighter around you as you hear him whimper out a soft apology. “Sorry, Sir, please let me have your cock Sir” he looks like he’s about to move his arms to reach out for you before he steadies himself, keeping them firmly balled in the sheets of you bed by his sides.

You smile, he really was getting the hang of it. Removing the thin robe around your body and retrieving the leather harness from where it was placed on your bedside table, you slide it up your legs before securing it tightly around your body. The entire time Crosshair’s gaze is transfixed, as if he’s enthralled by the sight of you. You smile down at him again, face softening slightly as you take in his form. He’s absolutely ruined and you haven’t even gotten to the main course yet. Eyes blown wide, cock flushed and leaking, chest rising and falling with rapid ragged breaths.

“Hands and knees pretty boy” you order and him and he obeys immediately, shifting into position with a strangled “yes sir”.

You kneel behind him on the bed, resting the faux cock against his prepared entrance, teasing him before breaching him with the thick head of the strap. His eyes flutter shut, fists clenching and unclenching as he lets out a loud moan. You take a handful of his ass as you slowly feed the thick toy into him as he writhes and groans beneath you, head shoved into the pillow muffling his sounds as the stretch of the toy overwhelms him.

After what feels like an eternity, you’re fully sheathed inside of him, stretching him out before setting a brutal pace. “Does this feel good baby? Is this exactly what you needed to take your mind off things?” you’re panting now from thrusting in and out of him, hips pounding into his as you repeatedly hit that spot inside of him that has him whining and moaning your name. “Y-yes Sir kriff- Thank you sir” his voice has been reduced to a course whisper as he nears his peak at an alarming speed, his neglected cock leaking a steady stream of precum onto the sheets beneath him as he fists the sheets.

“Sir can I cum… Kriff sir please” his voice cracks on the last word. Usually you would make him work harder for it, beg more, but he seems to already be holding himself back and you can’t bring yourself to torture him anymore, especially since he’s been so good tonight. “Let go baby” your words send him over the edge, ecstasy washing over him as he lets out a string of ‘thank you’s before you pull out and he collapses onto the bed beneath him.

You rid yourself of the toy before turning on the shower. You walk over to the bed and hoist Crosshair up, carrying most of his weight on your shoulder as you lead him towards the running water.

“feeling better?” your voice is soft, its teasing edge from before nowhere to be found. The soft smile he gives you is proof enough that whatever mood he was in before has passed and you feel your chest swell with pride knowing that Wrecker was right, you do mellow him out. You watch him stand on unsteady legs under the warm water before leaving to change the sheets.

Despite being locked out of the barracks you always knew he was going to be staying in your room tonight.

@where-is-my-mind-tho @starborncyare @antishadow2021 @healingskywalker @crosshairlovebot

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for future Crossmut

#sub!crosshair #crosshair tbb #tbb crosshair #dom reader #i am screaming #internally and externally

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keferon · 2 days ago

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Ahhhhhhhhh! The TF mecha Deadlock and human Ratchet drawing! I just saw it before sending this. His squishy! But yeeee! Continuing from the last one I wrote. Just pulled ideas from other posts you and others have done in this TF mecha universe. This is fun! :P

****

Ratchet's living quarters is much like the hanger where his lab is. An open area with some dividers up to make separate rooms. Scaffolding and catwalks line the wall and stairs are at each corner of the hanger. The interior is smaller when compared to the lab but the ceiling is much taller, allowing Deadlock the ability to sit up right comfortably. It looks like a little maze to Deadlock who can look down from above. Out of the five rooms in this hanger turned living quarters, Deadlock can't see into three of them. Ratchet's berthroom, the kitchen, and washrack all have ceilings to them. Ratchet's office is connected to the sitting area. Being the largest area in the hanger Deadlock has taken over the sitting area to recharge and heal in. Being the Chief Engineer no one has questioned Ratchet for having Deadlock in his hanger because Ratchet always takes work home with him. Also don't question Ratchet.

A click from the main entrance door has Deadlock stir from his recharge. Old instincts and habits have made him a light recharger. He opens one optic, a red glow fills the room. Blinding bright and staticky at first but dims and clears as his visual boots up. He see Ratchet opening the tiny entryway to slip out. He rumbles knowing it is way to early for Ratchet to head back to his lab. Ratchet had maybe, at most, gotten two hours of recharge. Deadlock gives a rumble/grunt again, this time it sounds more like a wheeze as he starts to shift to grab his little squishy who has already opened the door and stepped half way out. He is using the door to make himself unsnatchable not without breaking the thin metal.

Number one rule while in Ratchet's domain: Don't break Ratchet's things, he NEEDS them. The objects Ratchet chuck do not/can not hurt him. The disappointment and tired frustration however does hit something deep in his war worn spark. "Power back down kid. Just leaving for an emergency meeting. When I get back I'll check your intakes and engine. It's rattling and straining hard again." Ratchet says in a deep rougher voice used only when he wakes from recharge. The door click behind the human not giving him time to reply in his drowsy state. He rubs his fresh welded wounds and with a unhappy grunt curls loosely back around what Ratchet calls a lazy-e-boy chair and entertainment center.

ALL DAY! All day Ratchet has been gone. Deadlock should be use to Ratchet's long work days. But Ratchet didn't fuel before he left, he hasn't recharged in a long while. Two hours is not a recharge. Not for him, not for Ratchet. He is worried, it oozes out and around him from his EM Field like a shadowy murky cloak. His audial fins are pinned down and back as far as they can go. Ratchet looks so worn down. Overworked and shoulders heavy with responsibly the Cybertonian knows the bioengineer should not have to bare. The tv is on to use as a distraction but it no more then background noise as his proccesor runs through scenarios of what could be keeping Ratchet this time.

The door lock clicks and Deadlock instantly perks up. His EM Field fizzles away from gloomy to a more warm and bright mood. "Ratch-" He stops immediately when Ratchet comes through the door. Deadlock rakes his claws into the concrete floor and his field starts boiling with the energon in his lines. Ratchet is bruised and bleeding. The humans forehelm and knuckes are covered with fresh and dried blood. His glare intensifies as Ratchet closes the door and slumps against it with a grumble. Ratchet grunts as he takes off his shoes and dirty jacket. Deadlock's helm is filled with static and his spark heavy and spinning way to fast. He can taste energon on his glossa thanks to his fangs. Rage is not what is taking over his sensors and proccesor. Something more like a deeply rooted need, something instinctually feral burns hot in his frame. "WHO'D DARE-" Ratchet holds up a hand and makes a hushing noise, Deadlock snarls engine rattling harder to keep up with his burst of energy and restrained energon lust. His limbs shaking with just as much restraint. The only thing keeping him from ripping the hanger down is Ratchet's hunched form at the entry way. When Ratchet looks up at Deadlock his jaw snaps shut, denta slamming hard against each other with a harsh clank. The fragger looks amused! Tired, frustrated, and hurting but Deadlock knows that look. Those lips are ever so slightly turned up into an amused smirk, "R a t c h e t." Deadlock hisses out passed his denta audial fins pinned back.

"Relax, before you blow a fuse. You should see the other guy. These are just scratches Drift." The fragger chuckles wiping some blood from his lip with his thumb. That does something to Deadlock that he will not acknowledge right now. His spark flutters and pulses harder, EM Field a confusing mix of emotions that Ratchet can't feel, "I had a disagreement with some of the others in command while another sister base visited. I am fine. Been in more then one scrapping in my time." Ratchet hums as he limps into his office, Deadlock claws at the floor again. "I did not party and study my whole younger life away just to get my PhD in biomedical engineering and be told how to do my job. I may have got a tad heated." He chuckles again at Deadlocks snort/huff.

Deadlock relaxes slightly as Ratchet pulls out a medical kit. His systems are running hot and HUB flashing warnings at him do as Ratchet suggested. He relaxes slightly and presses his servo against his helm. "Frag doc starting fights for a disagreement?" He rasps out watching Ratchet closely while he steadies his intakes. The human carefully works on cleaning the blood stained knuckles, Deadlock takes some pleaser in knowing all that blood is not just Ratchet's. "You're just as much of a hot menace as me."

"For you." Ratchet mumbles as he gently rubs ointment on the cuts. "They wanted me to turn you over to the field officer. Told them that you are still a work in progress that needs more time. That you came to my lab mmm.." Ratchet realizes it's the next day, a whole day wasted arguing in a concert room with metal chairs. With stuck up, pathetic excesses for- "Two days ago now.. said I activated some guardian protocal that day by accident which what brought you looking for me. They think you are imprinted on me. Something like that." Ratchet winces as he wraps his most bruised and swollen hand. A whine leaves Deadlock's stuttering engine, the tip of his pointer digit's claw has been hovers over Ratchet's helm as the doc talked, "What is it Drift?" Ratchet pauses from reaching for the alcohol soaked cotten ball. He looking up into overly bright, almost white with worry optics. Ratchet's optics dart around looking over Deadlock's form and healing welds.

Deadlock wants to huff, to roll his optics at the bioengineer's worry for him. But he can't stop his spark and fuel tanks from turning while he watches the red liquid drip down Ratchet's forehelm and optic ridge. "I... can't help you. You are hurt.. cause of me... and I can only watch you patch yourself up." He admits dimming his optics and looking down. All of this because he got impatient and hunted down his squishy to get him to recharge for once.

Ratchet's optics soften slightly. He shuts the kit with a sharp snap and huffs as he straightens from being hunched over. "Hand down please." Deadlock's audial fins perk up at the request. He carefully and gently, as gently as he can, places two digits into the office room. He lifts Ratchet up slowly once the small being had found a good spot to sit on his servo. He doesn't want to risk even the slightest breeze to brush against the bruised and cut flesh. He makes certain his servo is locked so it doesn't twitch on them. "This is high enough. Stay still." Deadlock is about to scold him when he thinks Ratchet is going to check the welds on his chassis. Instead Ratchet pops the kit back open and works on himself. Deadlock's vocal box clicks a few times as he tries to comprehend what his squishy is doing. His spark flutters with his EM Field when he realizes Ratchet is using his metal plating like a mirror. Ratchet dabs the cotton ball on the cut above his left optic ridge. "Didn't feel like going all the way to the bathroom. So thanks kid."

Deadlock purrs and almost melts from the thanks. Yes he will happily be a mirror. "Clever thing to do doc. Have those idiots thinking I am loyal and protective to only you will mean I can follow you around more. I am content being imprinted on you. Just tell them you can't undo it doc and if they touch you ever again I will pluck their little tiny servos off and feed it to them." He rumbles in a flat tone towards the end. He rolls his optics at the small ping from Ratchet flicking his chassis, "You may start a fight doc but know I will finish it."

"Didn't really start it either kid." Ratchet sighs looking at his reflection with a solemn expression before going back to dabbing the cotten ball harder against the cut, "Wasn't just about you Drift. They wanted.... they want..." Deadlock wants to curl around Ratchet the tone he is using now sounds like defeat, that's not his Ratchet. Deadlock lifts his free servo and retracts a claw so he can rub Ratchet's back as best he can to comfort him. "I can't." Ratchet rasps placing his forehelm against Deadlock chassis. Deadlock's engine settles to a purr Cybertonians use to sooth each other. It seems to work. Ratchet's shoulders relax and he seems to be getting his thoughts together. Deadlock stays silent and even if he doesn't need to keeps his EM Field in check. He only giving off support, warmth and calm, "It's inhumane, evil... Tourture... It would break down to much of the muscles and cells of the body. The hippocampus, the cerebral cortex, and the frontal lobe... that much damage to the brain would... I can't do what they want me to. Not to anyone Drift. Not what they ask. I can't. To adults, to teenagers, To Children. Young kids not knowing what they have signed up for. Never told. No choice. No way in hell could I ever-"

The strain and deep pain in Ratchet's voice is killing Deadlock. Deadlock can feel the trembling coming from Ratchet as the human catches his breath. He keeps a steady presser against Ratchet's back for support as he moves him up. He ignores the small gasp from Ratchet when he presses Ratchet to his cheek gently. Warm smooth metal touched warm soft skin, "Never. Never will you do what anyone demands of you. They can not make you harm anyone. You have never done anything you didn't want to and you won't start now. You are to much for them to try to control. My little squishy scraplet. I will kill them if they try. You have my glyphic, honor, and spark on this." Deadlock pulls back feeling something wet on his faceplate. Before Deadlock can get a good look at Ratchet's face, the bioengineer is shakily wiping his optics in a rushed motion aggravating the wound on his forehelm making it bead up with fresh blood, "Woah easy doc!" Ratchet bats his digit away when he tries to stop him.

"Stupidly cocky little shit! Lets get you feeling better before you try taking on a whole mecha filled base for me!" Ratchet laughs and smacks the digit still pressed against his back. That laugh does something to Deadlock's systems and spark, "We'll need to discuss a plan. I don't ever do anything half ass. I will not go into anything blind. But you are right, this is not the place for me to be anymore. Sad really. I was doing a lot of good here, made things safer for our pilots. Slowly sure but less were dying... so horridly all the time." Ratchet mumbles the last bit under his breath before shaking his helm. Deadlock likes the smirk that comes back to Ratchet's lips, "Now lay down so I can check that engine. You are starting to sound like a shitty abandoned junker car. Think you knock something out of place."

Deadlock matches Ratchet's smirk with a slag eating grin as he lifts the human a tad higher to press his forehelm against Ratchet's. He feels Ratchet pulls back after a moment, a stuttering raspy purr rumbles pleasantly through him when Ratchet places his servo against his forehelm and rubs. Yeah he does sound like slag and his HUB is flashing warnings, "What ever you say Doc. I am your guardian knight after all. You just tell me when to start swinging." He hums as he shifts to lay down.

Y O U. YOU JUST WROTE THIS ABSOLUTE MASTERPIECE OF A FIC??? AND I DONT EVEN KNOW YOUR NAME?? WHOEVER YOU ARE, ANON, I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU SO MUCH NGKGKFGBFHGH YOUR WRITING DOES THINGS TO MY BRAI N

Also. Al s o. I just realized. Oh my god.

We have two Cybertronians on Earth at the moment right. Prowl and Deadlock. But Prowl is very much restricted in his actions because he has strong moral codex and also he's not a very good fighter (at least on his own).

But then we also have Deadlock. And the only thing keeping Deadlock in check is. Ratchet.

Like. Oh fuck just imagine. He isn't restricted by any moral implications except Ratchets opinion. He doesn't really give a fuck about other organic life or laws of Earth or anything. He is also a really fucking good fighter. He doesn't commit murder because that would disappoint Ratchet, but if. IF. Something happens to Ratchet?

THE HELL he would unleash would be visible from outer space.

Him being so sweet and caring and protective over Ratchet doesn't mean he behaves like this with everyone. Him being protective over Ratchet means that if anything takes Ratchet from him, he'll drown himself in blood. He'll burn, claw, gnaw, punch and tear his way back to his human.

All so he can be nice and sweet and caring again right afterward:)

#tf mecha universe #ratchlock #ratchet #deadlock #omg can you imagine #Prowl waking up in Ratchets garage (after he was saved from mecha program) and the first thing he sees is the fuckin Decepticon high command #Idk I just think it's so funny #like you know when you visit someone's house for the first time and find out they have a giant guard dog that looks like satan himself?#and the person you visiting is like. Don't worry I promise he's a good boy and doesn't bite #but then you look at the dog #and it's clearly trying to choose which one of your internals to make external first #yeah .#same vibe haha

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