#tf oneshots

[solar4seekstron]

Transformers

Movie Oneshot Masterlist/Series Oneshot Masterlist

Introduction Indie Series Movie Masterlist

Weeks and Dates Release Fics Requests Prompt

Movies

Transformers One

D-16/Megatron: Besties SFW, Conjunx SFW, A Sparkling?! SFW, Doublepackage 18+,

Orion Pax/Optimus Prime: Besties SFW, For Us SFW, Special Spot SFW, Archives SFW, Meet Again SFW, A Sparkling?! SFW, Doublepackage 18+,

Elita: A Sparkling?! SFW,

B-127: A Sparkling?! SFW,

Sentinel Prime: I Wasn’t Offering Part One 16+, I Wasn’t Offering Part Two 16+, Yandere!Sparkling 16+, Sparkling Surprise 16+, A Sparkling?! SFW,

Darkwing: Yandere!Wife 18+, Yandere!Wife 2 18+,

Starscream: Traitor Part One 18+,

Soundwave:

Shockwave:

Megatronus:

Zeta:

Prima:

-Shattered Glass-

Orion Pax/Optimus Prime: Yandere!Trapped 18+,

Transformers 2007

Optimus Prime:

Bumblebee:

Ironhide:

Ratchet:

Jazz:

Revenge of the Fallen

Optimus Prime:

Bumblebee:

Ironhide:

Ratchet:

Dark of the Moon

Optimus Prime:

Bumblebee:

Ironhide:

Ratchet:

Sentinel:

Evac: Missed You 18+, Missed You Part Two 18+,

Age of Extinction

Optimus Prime: Yandere!Sparkling Trapped 18+,

Bumblebee:

Crosshairs: Better shooter than me Part 1 SFW,

Drift:

Lockdown:

The Last Knight

Optimus Prime:

Bumblebee:

Crosshairs:

Drift:

The Movie

Kup:

Hotrod/Rodimus:

Springer:

Megatron/Galvatron:

Bumblebee

Rise of the Beasts

Mirage: Human SFW, Human Part 2 16+,

Series

Transformers Prime

Optimus Prime/Orion Pax: I Still Love You 18+, I Still Love You part 2 16+,

Bumblebee:

Arcee:

Ratchet:

Bulkhead:

Wheeljack:

Darkwing:

Megatron:

Knockout:

Starscream:

Transformers Rescue Bots

Heatwave: New Recruit 16+,

Chase:

Boulder:

Blades:

Hightide: Cute sparkling SFW,

Blurr:

Transformers Robots in Disguise (2015)

Optimus Prime/Orion Pax: I Still Love You 18+, I Still Love You part 2 16+,

Bumblebee: They’re Hot! SFW,

Drift:

Sideswipe:

Strongarm:

Thunderhoof:

Steeljaw:

Jetstorm:

Slipstream:

Transformers Rescue Bots Academy

Heatwave:

Chase:

Boulder:

Blades:

Ratchet:

Optimus Prime:

Hotshot:

Medix:

Whirl:

Hoist:

Wedge:

Transformers Animated

Optimus Prime: Elite Guard SFW, Hoomans SFW, Spikeblocked 18+,

Bumblebee: Smaller SFW,

Ratchet:

Bulkhead:

Prowl:

Megatron: Spikeblocked 16+,

Blitzwing:

Jazz:

Jetstorm:

Jetfire:

Blurr: Yandere!Wife 18+,

Transformers IDW

-2005-

(More if requested)

Kup: Soulmates 18+, Wife (Meme) SFW, Pregnant (Meme) SFW, Your Wife?! SFW,

Deadlock/Drift: Yandere!I. Don’t. Care. 18+,

Rodimus:

Ultra Magnus:

Cyclonus:

Tailgate:

Brainstorm:

Overlord:

Pharma:

Ratchet: Yandere!I. Don’t. Care. 18+,

-2019-

(More if requested)

Shadowstrike:

-Shattered Glass-

(More if requested)

Optimus Prime:

Goldbug: Yandere!That's Too Bad 18+,

Soundwave:

Megatron:

Prowl:

Transformers Cyberverse

(THEY’RE ALL HOT OK SUE ME!!!!)

Optimus Prime:

Bumblebee:

Perceptor:

Deadend:

Arcee:

Grimlock:

Lugnut:

Whirl:

Rodimus/Hot Rod: You?! SFW,

Shockwave:

Soundwave: You?! SFW,

Wheeljack:

Ratchet:

Prowl:

Cheetor:

Thunderhowl:

Meteorfire:

Drift:

Alphastrike:

Shadowstriker:

Transformers Earthspark

Optimus Prime:

Bumblebee:

Arcee:

Megatron: Our Date 16+, Our Date Part Two 18+,

Soundwave:

Tarantulas: Nightshade 16+,

Prowl:

Breakdown:

Shockwave:

Starscream:

Kup: Dad#3 18+,

[bumblebee-is-best-boi]

Ok im gonna think of something related to this for my next TFFL … but since oneshots are short I’ll probably do a one song is the overall tone of the oneshot thing and bAM I’ll have five oneshots…

songs:

Not Me Mix by *67 (that one Washing Machine Heart remix)

Oh no! By Marina and the Diamonds

GMFU by Otedari (or whoever idk)

Again by Crusher-P

You are my sunshine by Christina Perri

extra one because it’s cool:

Let it go from Frozen (I’m definitely using this for Megatron)

hdhgshddyrrurrhrygytrdyyaaaaaaaaaaaaaa let’s goooooooooooooo

music (fanfiction) writing challenge!!

use your music taste to write a fanfiction or any story in this challenge!

first open your music app of choice and make sure your playlist is on shuffle -- then the first 5 songs that pop up will determine your:

Premise -- What your story is going to be about in the first place. What is going to be the main "selling point" of the story that sets it apart from the rest.

Main character -- Your main character's personality or inner struggle.

Main conflict -- The main conflict that drives your story and becomes an obstacle for your main character.

Vibes -- Is this going to be a light-hearted story? Angsty? Romantic? Whatever matches the vibe of the song.

Ending -- How this story is going to end.

yes, this is very vague, but that is the point! this can give you some ideas of what to write while also leaving plenty of room to be creative. feel free to switch up what songs represent what or even shuffle them a couple more times!

[somerandomcockroach]

[No one wanted to be Swerve's roommate]

[midnightcrw]

TF141 looking at a picture of Daisy's (Simon's daughter) boyfriend who cheated on her.

"Now, what in the world is this?" Gaz, looking absolutely disgusted, held Daisy's phone as if it were a biohazard.

Daisy, still shedding tears (albeit fewer), occasionally let a tear escape down her face. Her boyfriend's cheating had Simon fuming, and he wasted no time gathering the TF141 for an emergency roast session in the living room.

"I might need to close an eye... nope, it somehow got even worse," Soap commented, genuinely repulsed by Daisy's unfortunate choice in a significant other.

"This is just atrocious," Price muttered under his breath, shaking his head in profound disappointment.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, the room exploded with comments.

"Daisy, did Simon drop you on your head when you were a baby? I thought you had better taste," Gaz quipped.

"You're crying over that?!" Soap exclaimed, with Simon adding, "That's what I said!"

"He looks like a sewer rat," Price remarked, snatching the phone from Gaz for a closer inspection of the boyfriend's face.

"He looks like he snuck onto Earth," Gaz chimed in, while Soap one-upped him with, "He gaslit his way here."

Then Simon, unable to contain himself, declared, "He probably blackmailed his way onto earth." Laughter erupted, and even Daisy managed a slight smile.

[achilles-rage]

thinking about older neighbour!john price hearing you knock on his door one october night, just barely audible over the sound of heavy rain hitting his roof and windows, and the thunder and lightning in the distance.

MDNI 18+ Only!

he ushers you inside quickly, seeing that you're already slightly damp from walking across your lawn and to his front door. he notices you shivering, a blanket thrown around your shoulders, and puts an arm around you as he leads you to sit on a stool in his kitchen while he makes you some tea.

"i’m sorry. the power's been out all day, and my house is freezing. i saw your lights still on, and i just thought-" you begin to say apologetically, but he cuts you off with a tut, shaking his head.

"don't apologize. you're always welcome here. you can stay the night, if you want. the generator's still got a ton of juice." he tells you gruffly, sliding your mug across the counter and leaning across from you, his elbows propping himself up. you thank him softly as you pick up the tea, letting it warm up your hands, but not taking a sip yet.

"you're freezing. why don't we go sit on the couch? i've got the fireplace going, it'll warm you up in no time." you nod, smiling softly as you stand up. he smiles when you immediately turn and walk to his living room. he loves how comfortable you are in his space.

he thinks he won the jackpot when he moved in next door to you, this soft, sweet thing that was quick to introduce herself and bring him a fresh batch of cookies as a welcome to the neighbourhood.

pretty soon, after he insisted that there was no reason for you to pay someone else, you began asking him for help with things around your house. and in return, you brought him sweets. but, he always thought the best reward was seeing you plush tummy hidden by the fabric of your clothes, or a sliver of your thighs when you wore short dresses, or when you would wear lower cut shirts that gave him the perfect view of your soft tits.

you take a seat on the couch, immediately crossing your legs and wrapping the blanket tighter around you. he stands in front of you and holds out his hands, gesturing to the blanket. you raise your brow, giving him a confused look. he gently tugs it off of you, and silently makes his way to his laundry room, putting your blanket in the dryer, before coming back. he grabs you a different blanket off the back of the couch and drapes it over your shoulders, muttering a soft "that's better" before he sits down beside you.

you talk to him in a quiet voice for a while, the only other sounds being the harsh sound of rain hitting his house, and the soft crackle of the fire burning in his fireplace. he tries so hard to be good, to keep his eyes on your face rather than trailing down your body. even though you’re covered by a blanket, it doesn’t stop him from imagining how you’d look under him, how you’d feel when he stretched you out around him, how you’d feel coming on his cock.

he suddenly gets an idea, and stands up, telling you he’s going to make some more tea. you try to protest, but he doesn’t want to hear a peep. you still look so cold, he lies, and he wants to make sure you don’t catch a cold. isn’t that sweet?

rather than going to the kitchen, however, he goes to check on his generator. he shuts it off quickly, grinning as he’s enveloped in darkness. he makes his way back to the living room with a battery powered lantern just in time to hear your sweet little voice call for him. you’re such a soft little thing, and if everything goes according to plan, you’ll be bouncing on his lap by the end of the night.

“it’s okay, sweetheart. i’m here. generator must’ve run outta gas. we can get closer to the fire if you want, it’ll keep us plenty warn.” he tells you in a smooth voice, grinning when he sees you look over at the fire and nod slowly.

he clears his throat as he moves to sit in front of the fire, leaning back against the couch. he pats the spot beside him, urging you to come sit with him.

once you’re beside him, you offer some of your blanket to him. he’s not cold. not at all. but what kind of man would he be to turn down such an inviting offer? it’s almost as if that gesture proves to him that you want him too, that although you came to his house in search of warmth, you were looking for him to warm you up, not his heater.

he’s sure that’s what sparked his newfound confidence, and soon enough, your clothes are discarded on the carpet beside you, and his cock is slowly stretching out your dripping hole.

“that’s it, sweetheart. let me hear you.” he growls quietly, eyes trained on your face contorted in pleasure. you whimper softly, moving yourself on his cock in a way that makes you see stars. while one of his hands helps guide you up and down on his thick cock, the other circles your puffy clit. he wants more than anything to watch you come apart for him, and right now, he’s holding back from coming too early.

he smirks when he hears the loud mewl escape your lips and you start to move in uneven bounces, shuddering on top of him. he moves his fingers in circles around your clit even faster, groaning at the sight of you tilting your head back in ecstasy.

“you gonna cum for me, sweetheart? you wanna cum on my cock?” he asks you roughly. he can feel himself twitching inside of you, and he knows he’s close, he just hopes you’re as close as he is. you nod your head vigorously, and the only sound you’re able to make is a high pitched whine, although he’s sure he can hear “please, john” between your incoherent babbling.

“cum for me, baby. let go for me.” he whispers, and after a few more seconds, something inside you snaps. your body goes rigid as you feel yourself coming on him, and you squeeze your eyes shut as you throw your head back. this sight is all it takes for him to let go as well. he cums with a loud grunt, followed by a moan as he feels himself filling you to the brim.

you bite your lip hard when you feel his seed against your velvety walls, and you slow your hips to a stop as you try to catch your breath, his cock still buried to the hilt.

the rest of the night consists of him pulling you into his arms and refusing to let you go. you lay on the carpet in front of the fire, being lulled to sleep by his steady breathing on your neck, and you’re sure john price will never be “just your neighbour” ever again.

likes/comments/reblogs would be much appreciated if you liked this<33

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[kingkat12]

neurons (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, mentions of sex, foul language, author knows nothing about neurons lol

summary: Roman Godfrey is most certainly not the best study partner to have the night before an important test. what a shocker (not).

word count: 1,106

a/n: kingkat is BACK!! exams are fucking killing me, so when that is over, you best believe I will be back to my usual uploading schedule!! however, I scrapped this together for y'all (and also for myself because pls I need a Roman to get me through this study period). also, WARNING, I don't know anything about chemistry and neurons, I just had to think about anything other than my test rn which is in 6 hours... ENJOY<33 (also the gif is from @godfreysteel if I remember correctly, pls kick my ass if I'm wrong ouf)

"A neuron is an excitable cell that fires electric signals called action potentials across a neural network in the nervous system. They are located in the brain and..." Roman peeked up from the chemistry book with a rather offended look streaking across his face; "You're not listening to me, are you?"

Realizing I was being spoken to, I raised my head from the bed, flaunting a nervous smile. Honestly, I had nearly dozed off. "I am, I am! I swear, I was just!--"

"Listening with your eyes closed?"

Fuck. With a groan, I buried my face in the duvet I was lying on. "Look, Ro, I really appreciate your help, but I'm not going to learn this the night before the test... We should just give up,"

I knew that Roman Godfrey wasn't known for being the best at school-- however, he was the only person in my contacts who was available at midnight, and I was having the biggest case of brain fog known to man. Nothing was sticking. Seven hours and forty-six minutes until I was supposed to be seated in the auditorium at school, taking the dreaded midterm exam in chemistry, this was my only option. This test was supposed to be notoriously hard, so of course I hadn't bothered looking at it before now. Of course. 

Huffing, Roman spun around in my chair, looking both bored and frustrated. "I'm so glad I took this test last year," he muttered, just like every other senior did when this test had been mentioned over the past few weeks. "I'm aware that I can't help you with much, 'cause you didn't exactly call the designated nerd or something. But now that you've dragged my ass all across town to not sleep with me, you could at least listen?" He moved the chair closer to the bed, leaning over to poke my head. "Think of it like you're listening to an audio book, okay? My voice is nice, after all. Deep and warm, like--"

"Honey?" I chimed in, raising myself to look at him. 

Roman blinked. He looked at me like I was the biggest idiot in the world before he plainly answered; "No. Pussy," 

That was it. Having my fuck-friend teach me chemistry certainly didn't make me the brightest girl in the state. This was a bad idea; I groaned, rolling my eyes as I shifted on the bed, sitting up. "Keep going, then," I said, doing my best not to yawn. "A neuron is an... excited cell?"

Smirking, Roman shook his head-- I wondered whether this made him feel smart. He had taken this test last year and passed it, after all. It wasn't looking like I would be passing it, so did that make Roman Godfrey smarter than me...?

That was a mortifying thought.

"The neuron is an excitable cell, whatever the fuck that means," Roman pointed to the paragraph in the book. "Let me continue, maybe it'll make sense to you if I keep going?" He kicked back in the chair again, leaning his legs on my bed before he lowered his voice, getting into a rather caricatured character of a narrator; "They are located in the brain and spinal cord and help to receive and conduct impulses. Neurons communicate with other cells via synapses, which are specialized connections that commonly use minute amounts of chemical--"

I yawned. Loudly. I couldn't take it anymore.

Roman's eyes shot up from the book, wider than ever. I held my breath, ready to be told off once more for not focusing properly, yet the next words that left his lips were ones of charming amusement; "I see that this isn't making you very... excitable," 

I let out a relieved sigh. "I give up. Could we just fuck instead? That thought makes me excitable,"

Slamming the book shut, Roman grinned. "You never disappoint," he murmured. Getting up from the chair, he motioned for me to lay down again; he didn't waste any time making his way between my legs, pressing soft kisses to my thighs. His words were interrupted with every kiss; "If you don't pass the test-- I'll pay someone to-- tweak your scores. Don't-- worry about it."

My breath hitched as I smiled up at the ceiling. "Why didn't you say that-- fuck, earlier?" I squirmed beneath Roman as he pushed the soft pillows of his lips to my clothed sex, humming. Every kiss, every touch, felt electrocuting; I wondered whether the neurons in my body had anything to do with these bodily reactions. Did they? I had no idea, and I realized I wasn't going to know at the end of the night either. 

"Because," Roman said, a hint of a laugh in his voice as he kissed his way up my body, listening to my nervous giggles of pleasure. "I like feeling-- helpful. No one has ever-- asked me to--" His kisses were getting wetter, more eager; "--revise anything-- with them."

My hands went to his hair, tugging at the tips of his soft, brown locks. "Makes sense," Of course. Who in their right mind would call Roman Godfrey to help them practice for a test? I knew that the only thing on his mind was pussy and... pussy. Along with all the other things about the female body that made him excitable,��certainly. 

Roman pressed teasing kisses to my neck, wrapping his arms around my tired body. "Are you gonna call me the next time you have a test?" he purred.

"Um... Depends,"

"On what?"

"On whether I'm planning on taking it seriously," I gave Roman's hair another tug, hoping he'd kiss me properly soon. "If it's a life or death thing, you're probably not gonna get involved. However, if it's another chemistry test..." 

Hovering above me now, Roman nudged my nose with his as he smiled against my lips. "I see where you're going with this, I'll take it. But let me redeem myself, okay?"

"Uh... how?" An impossible task.

"I'll teach you the one thing I actually remember," he breathed. Judging by how quickly his smile turned into a smirk, I could almost foresee the next thing coming from his mouth; "The neurons are connected to the nervous system, so they're responsible for making you feel this." 

Roman's lips pressed against mine for the briefest moment-- it was so gentle, so tentative, that for a second, I thought I had simply imagined it. This wasn't usually how he kissed me. This was different. This was gentle, sincere. My breath felt stuck in my chest as my fist in his hair faltered, feeling as though my body was on fire. 

Fucking neurons, giving me hope that I could both pass the test and have Roman Godfrey for myself. 

(thank u to Wikipedia LMAOOO I would go on and refer to the article like I've been taught but I'm SALTY so no<3 mwah)

[eyelambspider]

𝐃𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫, 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧! — 𝐂𝐎𝐃/𝐎𝐮𝐭𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫

Day 18 can you believe it? Here is a list of my prompts & event terms!

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : gn!doctor!reader x doctor!gaz, security!price + horangi, psychotic!soap + könig + ghost 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : you and a group of mount massive personnel have holed up in the security room as chaos erupts around the building. Then, your beloved patients find you, they decide its better that they keep you 'safe' instead. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 1.3 k 𝐚/𝐧 : i based this on my fking favorite game series outlast so-! 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 : blood/gore/death, swearing, yandere/possessive traits

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐄𝐒𝐂��𝐏𝐄𝐃. The sirens had blared for over an hour, each smashed to pieces by howling patients or they had simply died out...

No one was coming. No one should have been coming.

You and Doctor Garrick stared in pale horror at the panel of security cameras.

Every screen was filled with scenes straight out of a horror movie. In the halls, doctors in white coats tripped over themselves fleeing in terror as patients roared in fear, smashing in the skulls of the people who had hurt them. The common rooms were filled with more docile patients, the television screen tuned to nothing but static. A few patients wheezed in pain, bandages covering their disfigured faces, while others cried quietly into themselves, simply staring off into the static. All sitting together motionlessly, seemingly immune to the horrors now ravaging Mount Massive Asylum.

The sight was enough to make you heave and turn away. Dr. Garrick quickly caught you, rubbing your back in a soothing manner as Price and Horangi stepped up to the monitors. "Fucking hell," the brit muttered, his blue eyes roving over the screens with a grimace.

With the two officers busy, you turned your head towards Gaz, eyes wide with terror, trying so hard not to tremble under his touch. "They won't send anyone! Gaz!" you whispered frantically, trying not to draw the attention of the two security guards who had pulled you two into the safety of the locked security room.

No one knew except the doctors.

The Murkoff Corporation, the company that employed everyone here had been conducting unethical experiments on the patients here... They would never allow a leak this substantial to ever get out to the public.

You and Gaz both knew it too. They wouldn't send anyone but an army of men to 'clean' up this mess.

Another wave of nausea hit you at the thought.

"Shhh, I know, I know," he muttered, glancing over his shoulder towards the two security officers, making sure they didn't overhear.

Both were equipped to handle patients, guns in their belts, the same blue shirt, black pants, badge and hat...

What would they do when they found out the truth? Would they throw the two of you out if they found out you both had no power over what happened next? Had no idea what to fucking do in this situation?

All you and Gaz knew, was that wearing a white doctors coat right now, was a death sentence.

As far as irrational thought went, it felt like the only person you could truly trust right now was the man rubbing your back.

"So what's the plan?" Price interrupted, making both you and Gaz nearly jump.

From the horrified looks on both your faces, the security officer's both got an inkling of the reality of the situation.

"We... We-we could," Gaz stumbled, trying to blurt out anything that came to mind before Price got up in his face, angry like the you had both suspected.

"You know what's happening outside those doors?!" Price's voice boomed, grabbing ahold of Gaz's collar to bring him up to his face. Although you tried to stop it, Price was strong, and forced Gaz's face to the monitors. "Those fucking lunatics will kill all of us if we don't get the fuck out of here-!"

"Wait!" You yelped, trying to calm the already deteriorating situation. "We have clearance to all floors! There's got to be a way out!" You reasoned, digging through your coat pocket to retrieve your keycard and hold it up for him to see.

Everyone seemed to stop for a moment, the tension buzzing like electricity before Horangi placed a firm hand on Price's shoulder, silently urging him to drop the doctor. "The front doors down the hall are locked," he started, the black face mask he always wore muffling his voice some.

Price finally let go of Gaz, and you protectively helped him straighten out, a nervous look on both of your faces.

"Before we got the two of you in here, there was a man in the halls," Horangi recalled eerily, taking his hand off Price to hold the straps of his belt instead. "Big fucking guy, had no nose," he muttered, "We can't go through the front doors with him there."

The front doors were on this floor, only a few halls away... but who knows what had happened in the past hour to stop the exit from being so... clear.

"That's Chris," you whispered, immediately recognizing the description of the man Price and Horangi had seen.

Chris Walker, a violent man, standing at six foot nine... He wasn't your patient, but he was infamous among the doctors here... And now, he was standing between you and potentially getting out of this hellhole.

What the hell were you all going to do?

You took a minute to think, covering your mouth in shock while the three men stood quietly, each considering that look on your face.

It looked like a plan was forming in that sharp mind of yours, and none wanted to interrupt it. Holding their breaths for what they hoped was a miracle.

"Keys," you muttered to yourself, blankly staring at the screens in front of your face whilst you held subconsciously onto Gaz's shoulder.

"They took the keys," Price tried to explain, remembering the crushed body of the guard who was supposed to have them.

"No, they always have spares," you nodded to yourself, the flimsy idea stitching itself together more coherently in your mind.

As you spiraled further into thought, more screams and violence took place outside on the screens. Each eye watching as crude traps went up, bookshelves fell over in the halls, windows broke as men pounded their bloodied hands against it...

"They always have spare keys in the subbasement," you huffed breathlessly, feeling your blood run cold at the idea.

That's where Walrider had broken out. Where this whole asylum riot had started, and now the four of you, or at least one of you had to go down there with the very keycard you held tightly in your hand.

Gaz whispered your name almost inaudibly, hand slowly slithering around your waist and pulling you behind him.

Slowly, you followed his eyes and felt cold horror run through your veins.

"Hey Doc."

"Maus."

"It's you."

There, at the bulletproof window of the security office, stood three of your patients, each doused in blood splatters and maniac grins.

John "Soap" MacTavish. His blue eyes wide with madness glared at you, standing so close to the window that his breath fogged up the glass. "Doc, I could really use your help out here..." he grinned, tapping on the window before he quickly got more infuriated by the barrier. "Open up this fucking door you bitch!" he roared, smashing his fists onto the window until a bloodied puddle had formed... and he wouldn't fucking stop.

König stood behind him, his usual black hood, the one he always felt more safe under was dripping with gore onto his bare chest. The giant of a man tilted his head acutely, his icy blue eyes flickering from your face with a softness, before they turned hard and cold when he realized there were others in the room with you. The tension apparent in the way his fists suddenly balled up into a white knuckle grip.

And Mr. Simon "Ghost" Riley stood closest to the edge of the window, watching curiously as Soap spit a mix of soft pleas for you to come out, to vulgar swears and threats if you didn't. An idea was forming in his head. Those dark orbs of his now considering the door that separated you from him. He would find a way in, or through.

To their deranged minds, their beloved doctor needed their help.

And the men in the room with you needed you alive to get out of this damned asylum.

p.s. is cross over the right word for this? what'd you think of this guys? lmk! because i honestly loved writing this!

[celestialprincesse]

Hiii! This is my first time doing this so I hope I'm doing it right 😅. Anyways could I ask for fluff Soap with the head-canon that he brings you weird souvenirs from his deployments ex: stones, flowers or a jar of dirt

Hello! Sorry I've been off the grid I swear I'm still lurking! Anywhoo! pls feel free to send in fluff reqs (and distract me from studying for my language exam) (please)

🧼🫧🧽🛁

With Johnny having just returned from a two month long deployment somewhere in Eastern Europe, the pair of you are practically attached at the hip, making up for lost time. With that in mind, as your boyfriend unpacks his cases, haphazardly throwing his laundry in the general direction of the hamper, his clean stuff in a pile to be hung up in the closet, you sit in your shared bed, scrolling absently through your phone.

"Got ye this." He pipes up, unfortunately a little late as you're smacked in the stomach by a shopping bag full of miscellaneous crap.

"Ow, Johnny!"

Despite being a little winded, you're quick to abandon your phone and eagerly sit up in bed, emptying the contents of the bag out before you. Some items immediately jump out at you, recognising little city magnets from trashy tourist shops - one of you and Johnny's little habits, collecting a magnet, shot glass or postcard as a memento from every city you visit.

The bag contains other things too, stuff you wouldn't find in a tourist trap on every city corner. A little pebble black pebble worn by tides and time. "From the river Danube, tha." He points out, eliciting a warm smile from you at his sheer pride alone.

Continuing your search, you find a little ballet slipper charm, the sole stating its provenance as the Bolshoi theatre. It almost makes you well up a little at the fact that even in the midst of such a long and rigorous deployment, Johnny still went out of his way to think of you and the things you'd like.

The thing that makes your stomach plummet the most, though, is the little black velvet box in the bottom of the bag, and Johnny's sly smile when you look up at him like a deer in headlights.

"Price and I had a long chat one night." He starts, sitting on the bed before you, an earnest glimmer lighting up his blue gaze. "About the people ye love, and holding 'em close - makin' sure they know ye love them before ye've no longer the chance. An' I love ye - the only thing I'd love more is to be able to call you my wife, if you'll have me."

🧼🫧🧽🛁

[i-starcreamed]

Okay here's a oneshot idea: Tf One Darkwing x Female Cybertronian Miner Reader. He tries to do his usual angry act with her but she thinks he's cute when he's angry. Flustered Darkwing time maybe? IDK i feel like im the only one who thinks he's kinda cute and silly lmao

DARKWING X READER

Oh my god thank you anon, you’re definitely not the only one who thinks so…I love him. He’s such a bully but I love him I think. Sorry this is short, I def have to write more for him :3 ps there's like no HD pics of him

cybertronian!reader no spoilers, fake scenario. loser flustered Darkwing

“MINER Y/N. Reports say you’ve been slacking off for the past three days again…WHY?!”

Darkwing bellowed, squaring his massive beautiful frame to tower over you. Not that he needed to—he was already bigger than any miner bot around. Way to rub it in.

This was the second time you’d been called in for a little chat with him this month, and by the way, he called you out by the full name in front of everyone else. Who does that? Despite being slightly annoyed, you had a smug smile plastered on your faceplate.

You casually leaned against the wall behind you, shrugging lazily. “Dunno. I don’t really feel like mining,” You deadpanned.

You weren’t lying, your frame has been extra sore for weeks. Honestly, a break sounded great right about now.

Darkwing let out that little, irritated growl he always did when bots got under his plating. His servos clenched in the air, digits flexing as if he was physically holding back his frustration. If he could, he looked like he could rip out his own helm. He stomped closer, jabbing a metal digit in your face.

"WHY DON'T YOU LISTEN TO ME?! GO. GET BACK TO W-"

"Hey Darkwing," You interrupted smoothly, not budging an inch as you looked up at him with a playful grin.

"You know, you're a bit cute when you're mad at me like this."

Darkwing froze mid-rant, lowering his servos. "What?" He sputtered, reeling his helm back in confusion.

That tough facade of his? CRUMBLING before your very optics.

"I'm not..IM NOT CUTE!"

His voice hitched, his fists dropping to his sides, clenched tight as he glared through his visor. Your grin only grew.

"SOMETHING IS CLEARLY WRONG WITH YOU!"

You rolled your optics.

"Yeah, yeah. Something’s definitely wrong with me if I think you are adorable. You could help me out, though. Maybe working overtime with you would fix my… problem." You slyly added, holding your servo to him.

He took a step back, grumbling under his breath. If his fists curled into themselves even tighter, he might leave an indent in his own servo.

"Stop that...uh, GET BACK TO WORK!"

"Whatever you say, boss."

[voiths]

☾ "Be a good girl and use your words" ~ Price x reader☽

Pairing: Captain Price (also the other ops kinda)x female!reader

Warnings: Nsfw Content

Word Count: 1320

Summary: This is connected to the series on tumblr "On the run" by @devil-in-hiding but can be read without knowing the series. Reader is pent up with the fleeting touches of the team members and price is there to help but being a teasing cunt while doing so.

Note: Be gentle this is the first written out nsfw oneshot i have written.

It's been around a month now since they "broke in" and showed up on your doorstep and it's safe to say they're starting to affect you.

The way ghost stares at your body whenever you work around the house.

The constant praises coming from Gaz whenever you do something for him.

The flirty jokes stringing out of Soap's mouth at every chance he gets.

But the thing that's been affecting you the most is their touches.

One of the first nights they were here the 5 of you sat in the living room watching an old rom con that you convinced(forced) them to watch. You were lying on the couch with your head in Gazs' lap and with your thighs over Simons'. Halfway through the movie you felt Gaz's hands slowly running through your hair absentmindedly.

You slowly realised just how touchstarved all the years by yourself on the farm made you. Breathing evening out and eyes slowly closing as you felt yourself slowly falling asleep only to be awoken by a hand softly falling on your thigh. Looking towards Ghost you saw no change in his behaviour, he was still looking towards the screen that lightly lit up the room. Trying your best to keep your breathing steady you felt his hand slowly go up on your upper thigh.

On one hand you wanted to stop his hand, embarrassed of the sounds you're trying your best to hold back. What would the others do if they saw?

But on the other hand your skin felt like it was burning up were Ghosts rough scarred hand met your soft thighs. You cursed yourself for only wearing shorts for the movie. The movie has been gone from your mind for some time now, mind only focused of the feeling of simons hand on hour thigh, sometimes gripping it whenever something exciting happened in the movie.

So focused on Ghost's and Gaz's touch you didnt even realise that they started look at you, seeing you lightly squirming, trying your best to stay still and make no noise. Everyone understood to keep quiet, not interrupt whatever was going on.

They only stopped once the movie was over, Simon immediately having to leave to go to the toilet and shower. He definitely had to take care of himself after that.

The others asked if you were okay, worrying about how red you were even though they all knew the reason.

Situations like this only became more frequent afterwards and your need and want for them only grew bigger the more they touched you. But asking them directly for it? No you could never. You held your pride too high for that.

But oh when one night it was just you and price, sitting on a bench on the front porch looking into the dark fields and forests in front of you. Sitting on his lap with one of his arms wrapped around your waist and the other running over your inner thigh you felt the wetness grow between your legs.

You both have been like that for at least half an hour now constantly teasing each other. Not even using words. Just you squirming on his lap "accidentally" pressing down and feeling the bulge in his pants grow.

Him running his fingers over your thigh, sometimes squeezing and every now and then getting a little higher on your skin.

But you needed him higher. You needed him closer. Needed to feel his touch more and more.

Quiet whimpers started to slip through, desperate for more. Moving around more in his lap trying more and more desperately each time to get his fingers closer to where you needed him the most.

You were so distracted you couldn't even hear him chuckle at your actions. After letting you struggle for a few more minutes he finally moves his mouth next to your ear.

"Cmon my love say what u need. Be a good girl and use ur words."

Whimpers slipping through at hearing Price's words you let your words break the silence of the quiet night.

"Touch me."

"Not good enough darling i need a bit more."

If looks could kill Price would be dead by now seeing ur death glare directed towards him. But how could he be scared by your anger when you're still pathetically squirming in his lap and whimpering like a mutt in heat.

"Please Sir touch me."

"Atta Girl."

Finally you felt his fingers teasingly move closer to your heat, moving your underwear to the side for more access you let out a whimper of relief feeling his fingers move between your folds.

You didn't even notice his other hand moving your legs apart, letting them fall on side of his legs making sure that you couldn't close yours anymore.

In a teasingly slow pace he drew circles over your clit not daring to get you close to release any time soon. As a desperate action to make him go faster you reached your own hand down but as you were about to grab his arm his other hand grabbed ur arm and pinned it to your back together with your other arm.

"Tell me if ya want me to stop or slow down but don't you dare try and pleasure yourself or try and make me go faster. I don't wanna have to punish such a good innocent little girl like you."

"No no please sir please continue i'll be good."

Chuckling at your words his hand released and moved down to your heat as well.

While one of his hands was speeding up making circles on your clit his other hand moves closer to your tight hole. Even with the fluids your body was producing his finger was struggling to get inside. When you felt the first finger going knuckle deep small moans could be heard.

"Be quiet my love or you'll wake up the others and you don't want them to see you all exposed squirming on my fingers do you."

Moans turned into quiet whimpers as you struggled to keep quiet but as soon as the second finger entered you more moans spilled from your lips.

He kept you there for what felt like an hour teasing you and bringing you so close to release but as soon as he felt you starting to shake and tighten on his fingers he stopped and took it away from you.

You were a moaning whimpering mess for him and he loved it. Loved having you shaking and squirming for him.

"Please Price i need it."

"What do you need love, tell me and address me properly."

"Please Sir make me cum."

"Good girl."

Suddenly the fingers on your clit sped up the circles it was drawing on it and those fingers inside of you curled and pressed so nicely against that spot inside of you.

"Cum for me darling."

All it took was those words and you started shaking and quivering in his lap. Eyes rolling to the back of your head while your back is arching against his chest. Price was whispering words into your ear but in your high you could only assume it was teasing words or more praise.

After letting you come down from your high and having you lean against his chest you let out a yelp of surprise when you felt him stand up. Moving you so he could pick you up bridal style he opened the door with his elbow and stepped inside.

He knew it was late at night but unfortunately that doesn't mean that everyone was asleep in the house but fortunately he managed to carry you up the stairs and into your room without anyone seeing you two.

Laying you down on your bed he handed you a bottle of water that you left on your nightstand.

"Okay little lady do you want me to stay here with you?"

[til-all-are-loved]

Hihii! Your IDW megatron makes my heart swoon (he's very well written, hehe) I'm wondering if you have HCs for G1 Megatron as well? Maybe with a human reader too

oops this became like a whole thing (do people even make oneshots anymore). also this became nsfw, if that's not what you wanted please shoot me another ask and i'll redo it <3

{Mascara Running Everywhere}

G1 Megatron x Reader One-Shot

NSFW, afab reader

rough sex | power dynamics | sex servant | 2110 words

You were just an average civilian, taking a walk down a public trail into the barren hills. Hiking seemed like a good idea—a chance to get outside, feel the sun on your skin, and maybe find some peace.

Wrong day for that. Very wrong.

The Decepticons were retreating when it happened. Out of nowhere, you were scooped up in the jaws of Ravage and whisked away to their headquarters. The world blurred past, and by the time the rushing air settled, you were unceremoniously dropped at Megatron’s feet.

For a long, harrowing moment, he simply stared down at you. Cold. Isolated. Frightened. Something flickered in those piercing red optics. Not pity—never pity. No, it was something darker. A desire to control, to dominate.

Your ordeal began soon after. They kept you in a cage—small, cramped, and situated in a high-traffic area like some grotesque display. The humiliation was endless. Decepticons would pass by, sneering, their optics glinting with amusement or disdain. Verbal jabs cut deep, their cruel laughter a constant reminder of your helplessness. You sat huddled, cold and shivering, alone in your prison. No signs of rescue. No one coming to help. By the second night, your sobs echoed through the metallic corridors.

At first, Megatron reveled in your despair. The sound pleased him, a testament to your broken will. But the noise soon became a distraction, grating against his patience. On the third night, he'd had enough.

The ground trembled under his heavy footsteps as he approached. You froze when his towering form loomed over the cage, his optics blazing down at you. He stared, silent and unreadable, before the lock clicked open. The door swung wide, and before you could even think to run, his massive servo descended.

His grip wasn’t rough, but it wasn’t gentle either. The cold metal pressed against your ribs and hips, reminding you how fragile you were in his grasp. Struggling felt pointless. Resignation set in—you would endure whatever was coming next.

He carried you briskly to another room, its dim light casting long shadows. With a calculated motion, he placed you on a dashboard. The surface was unyielding beneath you, and the room thrummed faintly with energy. Megatron pulled up a chair and sat heavily, the impact reverberating through the space. He leaned in, his red optics casting an ominous glow that painted you in shades of crimson.

Without a word, his massive digits reached out, pinching at your clothing and prodding at your face. The gestures were curious, deliberate, and invasive. You didn’t flinch. There was no point. His gaze bore into you. As you endured his explorations you were as well analyzing his expression. Irritation curled into fascination, a smile played at his lips and his cheeks rose in satisfaction. He likes what he sees.

You dared not flinch as a digit stroked your face, swiping underneath your eye.

"Hmmmm." A low rumble of interest purred out of him, vibrating through the air. "What could this be?" he murmured, his optics narrowing as he examined his fingertip.

In the dim light, you caught a glimpse of it—a dark smudge of mascara on the tip of his grey finger. Your lip quivered involuntarily, betraying your nerves.

"Be still, my sweet bird," he said, his tone deceptively gentle, though there was no mistaking the edge of command beneath it. "Your war paint is... fascinating. A pity you've made such a mess of it." He held the smudge up for another moment, as though pondering its significance, before dismissively wiping it off on the edge of the table.

"Clean yourself up, whelp," he ordered, his optics locking onto yours with an intensity that made your stomach churn. "And return to me only when you’ve made yourself beautiful again."

Before you could react, his massive servo enveloped you once more, plucking you from the table with an ease that reminded you just how insignificant you were in his grasp. The world blurred as he carried you off, his heavy steps resounding like distant cannon fire.

You were deposited abruptly onto the floor of another room, where a smaller figure waited. The one called Rumble stood there, arms full of towels, clothes, and various toiletries. His expression was unreadable, but he didn’t linger long.

"Uh—yeah, boss says to, uh, clean yourself up... and, uh, yeah," he mumbled, unceremoniously shoving the pile into your arms before scuttling away like a startled rodent. The door slammed shut behind him, leaving you alone.

The wash racks were utilitarian and grim, but the cold saltwater that poured over you was a surprising comfort after everything you’d endured. You scrubbed yourself clean, the sharp chill biting at your skin and grounding you momentarily in the present. When you turned to the pile of supplies, you were stunned to find an array of surprisingly high-quality products—luxurious even. Brushes, palettes, and powders lay in perfect order, the kind of items someone might steal from a boutique rather than find in a warlord’s lair.

Still, you worked quickly, applying your makeup with practiced hands in the reflection of a small handheld mirror. When you were finished, you steeled yourself with a deep breath and stepped into the hallway.

You didn’t make it far. Megatron swept you up again with terrifying speed, the force of it leaving your head spinning and your heart pounding. His laughter boomed, a deep, resonant sound that chilled you to the core.

“Well, well,” he mused, his voice a twisted mixture of amusement and satisfaction. “Such a pretty little pet to entertain me.”

His grip tightened just enough to remind you of your fragility as he carried you back to his quarters. When he sat down, it was abrupt and deliberate, the vibrations from his weight settling into the chair reverberating through you. He placed you on his massive thigh so that your legs straddled him, The force made you lurch forward forcing yourself to catch yourself on your hands. Leaning in close, his optics flaring brightly in the dimness. The faint whir of his internal mechanisms filled the silence as he examined you sprawled out on top of you.

“This is where I will keep you,” he commanded softly, his massive frame looming like a storm.

It was wrong. So utterly, undeniably wrong. And yet, somehow, you grew to look forward to your days with him.

He made sure you were cared for—though in his own twisted way. Deliveries of stolen luxury poured in: designer clothes, glittering jewels, opulent bags crafted for someone with a life far removed from this metallic fortress. Week after week, the offerings grew.

He expected you to dress for him, to dazzle with beauty, and, most importantly, to entertain. On days when you failed to captivate him, his disappointment was evident. With a dismissive wave of his massive hand, you would be sent away to try again, to prove yourself worthy of his attention.

And so, you lived for those fleeting moments when his raspy, low voice would utter words of praise. It was intoxicating, his approval. You found yourself craving it. Wondering what more you might earn if you pleased him enough. Surely, you thought, even your own pleasure could one day be a possibility.

That day, you had dressed with meticulous care for what had become your grueling eight-hour "shift" of looking perfect. The black silk dress you chose clung to your body like a second skin, its elegance heightened by the glittering diamond-encrusted bangles on your wrists and the delicate silver necklace resting against your collarbone. Every detail was deliberate, calculated to ensure you looked flawless.

He wasted no time. in sweeping you up and you were placed on his lap like a prized possession.

And thus began your dance. You shifted forward, bracing your weight on your hands. Your knees squeezed tightly against the sides of his massive thighs, as a rider on a saddle. You arched your back dramatically. You turned your head, your eyes meeting his with a smolder.

If it was his attention you wanted, you had it entirely.

His expression betrayed him, a flicker of surprise mingled with excitement. You’d caught him off guard, your boldness sparking a reaction that even he hadn’t anticipated.

You reach back to pull your dress back, tightly sliding off to expose your ass.

This earned you a pantherine smile, and a firm tug on your ankle. Now your ass lined against his-- what would one call it? "Modesty panel"? You almost laughed to yourself. The implication that there could be something beneath lit your imagination on fire. You imagined yourself being stuffed with a large warm metal cock in a slew of indecent ways.

With some new inspiration, you grind your hips against his crotch. He didn't release a servo from your ankle, observing you desperately search for some friction to achieve relief. With his other servo he slipped his digits under your dress, playing with the feeling of the fabric and your hot skin. With no effort at all and a quick snap he tore the garment off your body.

In a swift motion you were flipped onto your back. You silently gasped at the sudden exposure.

"Such a fragile little thing," he rumbled, his optics burning into you. "Do you squirm like this for anyone else?"

With a servo around your back he lifted you to another that now supported your ass as well as keeping your legs parted. With a hard click his plating hit the floor followed by a soft hiss. You watched his spike pressurize against your pussy.

You squirmed against him observing this alien dick. It was already covered in a thin slick lubricant, warm and pulsating. Small red lights trailed down the underside and some between paneling in the mesh. You lowered yourself excruciatingly slowly past the tip. You guessed that it was about 18 inches in length, an intimidating girth as well. It took almost a minute of bobbing up and down to stuff half of it up your pussy.

Megatron sighed and moved into a languid position. His other servo found its way to your back again and provided firm support to guide you up and down. A fierce roar of his internal fans was all the assurance that you were thrilling him. That and the frequent low staticky sighs he made while fucking you.

"Cry for me" He ordered. "Sing for me, human"

His demand was enforced with a thrust from his hips and a rapid increase in pace, earning him a wail from you. Your swollen cunt made hideous wet slapping noises off his body. The sensation your entire pussy being stretched while being mechanically railed sent waves of pleasure through you. Every movement built the intensity higher and higher. Your skin and core burned hot, the fire rising inside you. With a gasp and cry your body shuddered and you climaxed at last, your fluids dribbling down his spike.

His relentless pace did not let up as he continued fucking you through the orgasm before his spike pulsed and throbbed inside you. The sensation of incredibly hot cum filled your already sore pussy. Already filled to the limit the pink fluid dribbled out of you.

His body slumped further into the chair and he let out a crackling groan. His hands softened their grip on you and you took a deep breath, you hadn't realized how firmly you were being held until you were free.

His head tilted back, optics dimming slightly as a rare moment of quiet overtook him. “Hmph,” he muttered, his voice low and rasping. “You endure well… for a creature so small.”

You slid to the floor and gathered yourself. Your body trembled with exhaustion and something unnamable. He didn’t stop you, his optics dim and unreadable as you picked up the tattered remains of your dress.

“Go,” he commanded, his voice a deep rumble, quieter now but no less commanding. “Return to your chambers... and prepare yourself. You’ll be summoned again soon.”

You didn’t look back as you stepped out of the room, the echo of his words and the lingering weight of his touch still heavy on your skin. The metallic halls stretched ahead, cold and unfeeling, a stark contrast to the heat that still clung to you. You clutched the fabric tighter to your chest and walked on, your mind spinning, knowing that tonight would not be the last time you would entertain him.

The door slid shut behind you with a hiss, sealing away the towering warlord and the line you had crossed.

[bibliophilesince2003]

Oplita Oneshot

This is based off of Transformers One. I've been itching to write something wholesome, and I absolutely adore Optimus and Elita as a couple. Normally, I put my writing on Wattpad. Then again, those are usually full-length stories. It just made sense to do this particular oneshot here. Perhaps I'll do more oneshots of my favorite fandoms in the future.

So, yeah, this is for my fellow die-hard Oplita fans.

Also... this takes place after the ending of Transformers One, maybe a few months or so after the ending. Sorry, I'm not sure what a month is in cybertronian terms; Google was unhelpful. If you have not seen Transformers One in its entirety, this one shot may not be as impactful as it could be.

-

Optimus ducked as he walked past the door frame, mumbling to himself. His eyes were glued to the data disks in his hands; he had grabbed far too many. A few dropped to the ground. He bent to pick them up, but only lost more in the process. Optimus shook his head and resorted to sitting on the ground, spreading out the data. Now he could read them better, though some of the works and markings were faded and illegible. He grunted, his legs getting in the way. Being taller and bulkier had its advantages in battle, but he couldn't exactly crawl through vents like he used to. Bee had joked that perhaps the Matrix of Leadership had a "switch" for shrinking, but Elita said that size didn't matter. Then, she promptly added, stupidity was sure to remain.

He was glad he didn't intimidate her, even after becoming a prime. Her suggestion to "adapt" to sudden change was both firm and helpful, though harsh. Now, it settled deep in his spark, and he began to overthink. What if he didn't adapt? Would she think less of him?

A memory flashed through his mind, eliminating his worries about Eilta. He may have been dying, but he remembered catching a glimpse of Elita leaning towards the edge of the well when he fell. It was both shocking and endearing, but he was glad Bee yanked her back. It warmed his heart before pain overtook it, pain so great that it rendered him unconscious. He hadn't mentioned it to her, and he didn't think he ever would. It would be a secret to hold on to, at least for the time being.

Optimus was so engrossed in his work he didn't hear the automatic doors open. When footfalls finally reached his ears, Optimus scrambled and gathered up the data disks to the best of his ability. Elita and a few of her soldiers in training turned the corner and walked down the hall. Elita put her hands on her hips.

"And here is our leader, on the ground and sorting through old data disks like a desperate scavenger. Don't worry; he's tougher than he looks."

"That's reassuring," said one of the trainees; a pink and white female cybertronian.

Optimus cleared his throat, gave a lop-sided grin, and backed up. He dumped the data disks on a table and apologized, though it was mostly for Elita's sake. When he returned to the group, Elita gave him an amused look, but waved a hand in front of the trainees.

"This is Arcee, Smoke, and Cliffjumper. It's part of their training to visit the archives. A tactical warrior is just as powerful as a physically strong one."

"Wheeljack was part of your training program, wasn't he?" Optimus asked.

Elita rolled her eyes, and Cliffjumper answered for her, holding back a laugh. "He got bored."

"He joked about starting his own group; a group that didn't mind going the extreme," Smoke said.

He paused, then added to his statement. "Maybe it wasn't a joke."

"It definitely wasn't a joke," Arcee said.

"I'll have a talk with him later," Elita said, and Optimus nodded.

He stared at the wall just above their heads, lost in thought. Elita straightened.

"You ok?" she asked.

"What?" Optimus snapped out of it. "Oh, I'm fine."

Elita turned to address her trainees. "Meal break. Get your energon and look over some of the data this place has to offer that you think will benefit you. I want you at the station in a couple of hours; no sooner, no later. Got it?"

They nodded and obeyed; heading down the hall and turning the corner. Silence fell as their chattering grew distant.

"I said I was fine," Optimus said, attempting a laugh.

It sounded hollow.

"What's wrong, Pax?"

Optimus' shoulders dropped in surrender. When she called him that, he always felt inclined to answer, as if he were a miner under her command again. "Pax" or "Orion" would only come from her, though, and she never used it in front of others. He was to be Optimus Prime to everyone else; a title that carried authority and a great deal of weight. All cybertronian citizens were aware that their life could never be the same; many were expected to train. Really, he wasn't the only one experiencing change.

"I don't know if I can do this," Optimus blurted, clenching his fists.

"You're going to have to be more specific," Elita said.

"I'm a prime, but I've never led. I'm expected to fight in a war that hasn't begun but haunts the future. I think we both know Megatron will be back; he will want to take my place. Maybe he should."

Elita sighed and took Optimus' hand. "Come on."

Dazed, Optimus nodded. They walked down the hall and through various rooms. Neither of them let go, fingers tightly intertwined.

"Find a place where we can talk, Pax. I haven't broken in here like you have."

"Commander's orders," Optimus said, picking up the pace.

They entered a dimly lit, musky room. Elita coughed, letting go of Optimus' hand to wave her hand in front of her face. "Couldn't you have picked a better place?"

"The worst places are often the best places," Optimus said.

"Is this vagueness going to be regular thing, now? I hate it."

Optimus braced his back against a shelving unit, though it didn't contain very many data disks. With a grunt he gave a few hard shoves, and the shelving unit moved to reveal a broken door that led to a precarious platform overlooking Iacon.

"Is this how you would get in?" Elita asked, coming closer to observe.

"No; there were more dangerous entry points with small ventilation systems. I got stuck for a full twenty minutes, once."

"And to think... if you had just stayed there, we could have avoided all this chaos."

"What... and have Cybertron miss this charm?" Optimus motioned to himself.

Elita rolled her eyes, but Optimus caught a small smile. He backed up, letting her go first, and Elita stepped onto the platform and approached the edge. She leaned forward, and Optimus sucked in an inward breath, squeezing past the door frame. She sat at the edge, legs dangling. As soon as Optimus sat beside her, she spoke.

"You won't know how to lead."

Great. Another one of her "encouraging" pep talks. Elita turned her head and waited until Optimus locked eyes with her.

"What I mean is... leading can never be mastered," Elita said. "So, you need to act like you have it all figured out. Voice your fears with the ones you trust, but don't put them on public display. You're right; Megatron is out there somewhere, plotting your demise."

"I don't like the thought of preparing citizens for war," Optimus said.

"It has to be done. The few already capable fighters we have don't stand a chance."

"I know."

"We have to win," Elita said.

Silence fell. They could both agree on that. Elita put a hand on his shoulder.

"You are nothing like Megatron."

"I... try to envision him as he was. He was my greatest friend, Elita. And yet, anyone is capable of betrayal."

"You may doubt yourself, but I would never betray you. Even when I seemed your enemy, yelled at you, and -"

"Punched me in the face?" Optimus offered.

"Yes, even then, I never hated you. You were just... too ambitious and eager for my taste."

"Interesting," Optimus said, looking upwards in thought.

Elita laughed and knocked him in the shoulder, and Optimus gasped dramatically and fell, rolling closer to the edge of the platform.

"I thought you would stop punching me," Optimus groaned, finally sitting up when Elita's eyes widened, no doubt worried he might fall, or perhaps having PTSD of when he had, in fact, fallen.

"Oh, come on! That wasn't a punch," Elita said.

Optimus laughed and stood up, offering a hand. Elita took it, and he helped her up.

"What were you doing rifling through the data disks, anyway?"

"I'm trying to find what remains of Alpha Trion's wisdom. The Matrix of Leadership offers many surprises, but I'm without a mentor. I wish he were here."

"You have everything and everyone you need," Elita said.

Optimus dipped his head, and Elita placed her hands on either side of his face, lifting it back up. "I expect you to be on the training grounds this afternoon. Maybe you can convince Wheeljack to join the group."

"Would they listen to me?"

"You have an axe for a hand. How could they not?"

Optimus laughed, and Elita lowered her hands, nodding in satisfaction.

"Thanks, Elita."

"Any time, Pax."

[cs-fox]

EVERGREENS | TASKFORCE 141 X READER

CHRISTMAS FIC !!!

pinging @chaos-on-stand-bi ♥️

______________________________________________________________

It was only two weeks ago when you and your teammates - the task force 141 - received word a terrorist group was hiding out in a pine plantation on the outskirts of snowy Manchester.

You’d all agreed on stealth being the best option, in this case - that meant ghillies, adorned with evergreen needles and even pine cones - ‘They really went for it, huh?’ an impressed Kyle had noted.

As your black SUV pulled up with a crunching of tyres on fresh snow, you gazed out at the plantation in awe.

‘Fuckin’ hell,’ your Lieutenant, Ghost, mumbled, as all five soldiers piled out of the car.

The owners had decked all of the fir trees in bright, multicoloured - and definitely not camouflage - Christmas lights, ones that glowed insistently in the nighttime darkness. Red and green danced in the soldier’s eyes, as they stood, with weapons loosely held at their sides, staring at the trees.

‘Well,’ Soap was the first to speak. ‘We’re going tae have to blend in, ceart?’ and began to untangle strings of bulbs from the lower branches of the nearest tree.

He offered you a handful of glowing lights, and you shrugged, beginning to wrap them around yourself, laughing as Soap tried to hook a bauble on your nose.

Ghost grumbled, but strung lights around his waist, shoulders and left leg. Gaz did a good job of trying to remain professional in this ludicrous coincidence, but he couldn’t help himself from suggesting maybe they needed to balance stars on their heads, just to blend in.

Price shook his head in disbelief, but still gave the order to continue the mission once his soldiers were bedazzled.

As your group advanced through the dark forest, Ghost grumbling about the unfortunate situation, Soap chuckling to himself and murmuring his wonderment in strings of thickly accented Gaelic, the snow steadily thinned out as the trees grew taller and bushier.

Then - you all heard muffled rustling, and a man cursing in Russian. Reflexes collectively kicked in; when the patrol reached your position, you were invisible against the brightly lit trees, compliments of your festive camouflage.

The three men didn’t last long; between your prowess with a blade, Ghost’s throwing knives, and Price’s raw strength, simply twisting the man’s head until you all heard a sickening crack.

The bodies were dragged into the shadows quickly, and you all moved on.

Before long, you descended upon a warehouse, with no lights in the windows. But it was easy to tell it was inhabited - shouts and raucous singing echoed from inside.

‘Think we mighta crashed a Christmas party, sir,’ Soap snickered.

‘We’re a vision. Imagine walking in there and trying to shoot anyone,’ you grinned.

‘More like a nightmare,’ Ghost grunted, nudging a snow-dusted bad scraggly bush to the side with the muzzle of his rifle. ‘What? I’m on overwatch, I ain’t goin’ in there.’

‘Alrigh’ LT. Y/N and I are gonna go shoot some guys - ’

‘Merry Christmas, dickweeds,’ you said, in a gruff imitation of the Scot’s accent.

Soap barked a laugh. ‘Sounds ‘bout righ’.’

______________________________________________________________

eek, eek. im insane bloody hell but you guys get to read what happens when im like this xox

love u all tyvm for supporting me !!!!!!

MIGHT OR MIGHT NOT B WORKING ON A FOXHOUND CHRISTMAS SKIT…………… ♥️

[graysnetwork]

What kind of dads I think the 141 tf would be

༻━━━━༺❀༻━━━━༺

𝒥𝑜𝒽𝓃 '𝒮𝑜𝒶𝓅'  𝓜.

❀ Deffo a girl dad

❀ He has three girls with you and always rough housing with them—throwing them in the air and doing anything to make his little girls giggle

❀ ALWAYs giving you heart attacks with the trick he does with them

Once pushed his daughter abruptly into the pool after swimming lessons to see if they payed off (they did)

Then one of your daughters wanted to try a yoga tick and she definitely flipped when she wasn't supposed to.

❀ Always trying to make them happy

Takes them to the daddy daughter dances, takes them on daddy–daughter dates

Buys them anything they want whether it be food to the latest toy

❀ Takes pictures of them all the time!!! What can he say, he likes proof

❀ After a year of taking a break from kids you two try again and finally he gets a boy

He’s so excited

𝒮𝒾𝓂𝑜𝓃 '𝒢𝒽𝑜𝓈𝓉’ 𝓡.

❀ Girl dad all the way!

❀ Obsessed with his little girl and never lets her out of his sight.

❀ Gets teary eyed when she grows every month

❀ He was hesitant to have a kid but you two got the case of baby fever (and horniness) and made one. Now he's in love.

❀ Cherishes her and makes sure she's always happy.

❀ The burly man is suddenly so gentle and always doing peek-a-boo to make her smile

❀ You two wait at least three years to have another kid

Now he’s a girl and boy dad!

❀ Makes sure to treat the two of them so well and make sure they never experience what he did when he was little.

❀ Even with his son hes gently

Sees how Soap plays with his daughters and has a heart attack at the thought of them being in the air

But when his son grows up a bit and starts getting more “tough” (aka punching Simon with his little fists and Simon just thinks it his muscles spasming until he turns around and sees the little guy) he starts playing with him somewhat more rough.

Teaches him Krav Maga

Takes him to the shooting range (only after hes 15)

Also teaches his daughter Krav Maga and gives her enough self protection items to protect herself and the whole school

❀ He tries to not over do it but he's always spending his money on them (and u obvi)

❀ Takes them by base sometimes just to meet their “uncles.”

❀ He just loves them so much

𝒥𝑜𝒽𝓃 𝒫𝓇𝒾𝒸𝑒

❀ Girl dad.

❀ Doesn't have a boy—wouldn't be mad if he had one but he doesn't care, hes ecstatic with his two girls.

❀ Cherishes those precious little girls with his whole heart

❀ Very strict and tells them once they can understand words that they cant date until they turn 30

When they grow up it gets annoying but he's very insistent that they cant date—at least not in high school

❀ He does all the things “normal families do” when he's back home

Disneyland trips, road trips, dinners anywhere the family wants

Speaking of dinners—everyone votes which restaurant sounds the best and that's where you guys go

❀ Almost cries every first day of school

Always posting/sharing photos in family and friend gc’s to show off his daughters achievements

Example:

Price: (Photo of him next to his daughter after getting an award) My daughters amazing

Ghost: 👍

Soap: good kid, congrats

Gaz: let her know we’re proud!

❀ If he posts a picture i believe the caption would go: My little girl is always putting in the work! Best student I know!

He’s always having proud dad moments 🥺

𝒦𝓎𝓁𝑒 "𝒢𝒶𝓏" 𝒢.

❀ Two boys and then one girl

❀ Loves all of them so much!

❀ He’s always teaching them new things

​​He’s a teaching dad

Teaches them how to cook, play sports, bake, swim, ect.

❀ Takes them to sports events and concerts

He’s the kind of guy whos always giving them reasons to post pics

❀ Soaps a cool dad but he's a rowdy cool, Kyle on the other hand is cool chill dad

His kids are never embarrassed by him and their friends also love him

❀ (He’s the dad who the moms like)

❀ Not as strict on his kids but he is very protective

❀ He also teaches his kids self defense

༻━━━━༺❀༻━━━━༺

[jade-of-mourning]

sorry sometimes i think about mako and my heart hurts so much. this kid raised himself and his brother on the streets in homelessness and utter poverty from eight through fifteen, promptly after seeing the violent death of his mother and father. he turned to the triple threats because they couldn't survive as a pair of wretched kids without any adult support, and the environment forced him to turn into the exact character that killed his parents in a terrible twist of irony. and after sheer-fucking-luck hits and they aren't homeless anymore, their livelihood wavers on the outcome of what's a literally game to everyone but them; and after things are finally starting to look up and their team is going places and things just might be okay, his gradually stabilizing world unceremoniously expands and everything goes to shit.

and the city that chewed him up and spat him back out, ruined him as a child and took away his ability to stay afloat in a true sense of normalcy as an adult — when it's on the verge of destruction and falling to pieces before his eyes, he gives himself to save it with the full expectation to die. he went from the kid who didn't and couldn't care about anything outside of himself and his brother, to finding redemption for his younger self in his police work despite its injustice against him, to willingly sacrificing himself to a world that had never loved him.

he's a desperate people pleaser, socially and emotionally stunted for the adult he had to be as a kid, unable to navigate interpersonal relationships easily yet still trying his damned hardest. he's intensely and entirely devoted to the things that matter to him and for so long it was only him, bolin, and ensuring their survival — yet by the end, that devotion has expanded to protecting the rest of the world. he starts out entirely self-reliant and ends in trusting the people he cares about to know their own needs, to be able to take care of themselves, to be okay without him despite having spent so much of his life defined by his role in others' well-being.

just. what the fuck i'm such a big fan of this fictional guy and i'm unashamed about it at this point. also let him cry please (if you won't i'll do it i'll let him cry)

[image-thot]

Throw Him Off His Rhythm: Mirage x Reader

Fandom: Transformers Rotb

Summary: After getting caught and subsequently losing a bet he made to his human, Mirage now finds himself having to follow through with his end of the deal.

Words: 1,517

Warnings: Masturbating, handjobs, Sub/Dom, orgasm denial

A/N: The reader is written as gender-neutral. I did indeed spend a little time today figuring out an average size estimate for how big a cybertrionians spike would be (more specifically Mirages) relative to them and their humans because I needed something to like visualise or something. Can’t lie I may be on my way to making a table of transformers and how big their spikes are, if you by primus wanna see that let me know XD

Enjoy the fic.

"Shit. Shit. Shit." The string of curses leaves Mirage's vocaliser as he awkwardly shimmied down the narrow alleyway.

"Why'd the perfect spot have to be so fragging, hard to get to." Mindful of his finish he carefully squeezes out of the alley into the outdoor courtyard. 

Sure it wasn't the nicest looking or biggest of hiding spots, but it was private and quiet. Panelling sliding open as he sits on the ground, leaning back against the brick wall he sighs in relief as his burning spike pressurises already dripping transfluid.

"Frag finally, for a second thought I was going to burst a line." Servo quickly dives down to wrap around his spike and he bites back a moan as his servo begins to stroke at a fast pace, aching to relieve the burning pressure.

"You couldn't wait until after the meeting?" Helm hitting the wall behind him as he groans, of course it couldn’t and you knew that all too well otherwise you wouldn’t have followed him out here.

Although amusing at the time making, a bet to see who could go the longest without needing to fuck or masturbate wasn’t his most brilliant idea. In his defence he thought humans weren’t capable of going more than a day let alone a week without having to self-service themselves, all but certain he’d have the win in the bag.

It didn’t help him that you’d poke and provoke his imagination, you’d butter him up with your sweet words which had done more than just stroke at his ego. Not-so-subtle innuendos had on more than one occasion almost had his interface panels sliding back, it’s a miracle he had managed to last this long.

“Obviously not.” Servo still stroking his spike as he speaks optics looking everywhere but your eyes, he doesn’t need need to look at your face to see the grin that spreads across it. “I can see that but aren’t you forgetting something?” Your words tease him as a huff of annoyance leaves his intake, slowly making your way over to him you lean against the wall next to him.

“Fine. Fine. You win. You a human can outlast me a cybertronian. Happy now? Cuz I could really use some help.” Continues to stroke his spike as other servo reaches out to grab you, when you quickly dart out of his reach a whined gasp leaves him.

"W-what? Come on you can’t be serious.” You chuckle at his needy response no doubt in your mind that if your roles were reversed he would have teased you.

“But didn’t you say the winner could order the looser around for an entire week?” Smugness dripped off your words as you watched his frame slump forward, a defeated sigh leaving him.

“Yeah, but I thought you’d just wanna be on top or something. Not like. Not like leave me hanging.” Sending the best puppy dog eyes he could muster your way, hoping you’d cave into his needs.

“Mirage. You wouldn’t be trying to go back on your word, would you?” A fake look of disappointment briefly covers your face as carefully move around his legs coming to a stop by his pedes.

“What!? Of course not! I mean, after so long I figured that you'd. You know, wanna fool around." Servos still as he watches you contemplate and tries to stop his legs from bouncing impatiently as he waits for your response. A devious look spreads across your eyes as you walk between his legs, hand coming up to trace between the seams as you move closer.

"I suppose, a little fun now wouldn't hurt. If you promise to stand by your word and do exactly as I say." Missing the dark edge of your words as he moans out a string of yes. Now standing in front of his leaking spike you give him a playful smile as you tap the servo that had slowly resumed its stroking.

"Servos by your side's big boy and no matter what. You don't touch me or your spike." Words are spoken as if you're sending him into battle, your hands gently caressing the metal and seams around his heated array.

"Sir yes sir!~" The chuckle he lets out after his own words are cut off by a soft moan and his servos drop-down like rocks off a bridge, digits grip the ground as your breath fans over his spike.

"Good." You hum as one hand trails up to his spike while the other continues to tease the wires between his seams.

Your eyes watch his faceplate like a predator, his optics offlining and scrunching up when your hand delicately runs up his spike. Shifting your gaze back down to his spike,  your fingers briefly graze over the tip blue biolights pulse at the touch and a gaspe escape his intake. Fingers move back down as your hand begins to slowly stoke easily gliding thanks to all the pre-leaked transfluid.

"Frag." A moaned whisper breaks from him as his hips twitch and he desperately holds back from thrusting them into your hand.

A chuckle escapes you, eyes moving back to his faceplate as they keenly watch him bite his derma as his helm hits the wall behind it. Digits dig into the ground below them, frame shifting uncomfortably as you barely increase the speed of your hand and a whine slips out and his optics online.

"Please baby. Frag you're killing me here." Optics looking down at you and he groans as a smirk briefly returns to your face.

"Aww, I'm sorry." A fake pout spreads over your face as your hand begins to stroke a little faster, eyes never leaving him as your mouth moves in closer to his spike.

"Would you like me to go a little faster?" The teasing words fan hot air over the sensitive tip of his spike and have his hips jolting up. Spike almost pushing into your mouth you move your head back with a chuckle and your hand speeds up.

"Yes! Please babes! Frag I wanna be inside you so bad!" Optics offlining as his words fall out along with his desperate moans as your mouth moves away.

Your other hand finally leaves the cluster of wires it had been teasing to wander to his spike, your thumb firmly runs over the tip and he gasps out. Frame shaking you can see the strain in his servos as he desperately keeps them from reaching out to grab you. Hand stroking faster as your fingers tease around his leaking tip, whined moans leave his vocaliser as he approaches his overloaded and you bite your lip holding back your own moan.

"Frag babes I'm so close! Frag yes. Yes." The words fall freely from him as his spike throbs, biolights pulsing quicker as he almost reaches the tipping point of his pleasure and just like that your hands pull away.

"What?! Frag babes you ok? I'm almost there." The desperation, confusion and slight concern are evident in his voice as his optics look down to identify the reason for your sudden lack of touch.

When his optics catch the devious smile spread across your face as your hands link behind your back, the realisation of your motives slowly comes to his lust-filled processor.

"No please! You can't! Babes come on. Just a little more! Don't leave me like this! I-I'm almost done then- you can ride my face place however long you want after! Please." Panicked and pleading for you to tip him over the edge, his legs shake and servos hit the ground in frustration but never make any move towards you or his spike.

The pleasure that surges throughout your body as you watch him in such a state of need and want, you almost want to jump on his spike then and there. Unlike your partner, you have a lot more self-restraint.

"I said I'd have a little fun. Nothing about letting you overload." You hum out enjoying the look of needy frustration that covers his faceplate.

"Come one. Babe's I've been good! I-I didn't touch-." His babbling words are cut off by your own stern ones.

"Good and you'll keep it that way." Smirk dissipates into your normal loving smile as you shift from between his legs.

"What no!" Shifting to his knees as you continue to walk into the small alley. "You can't leave me like this!" 

"I think I will." You muse out as you wave your hand for him to follow. 

"Perhaps I'll change my mind a little later. Until then we've gotta get back to the others." You call out from the end of the alley, not missing the small sob and whine that comes from him as you make your way back into the building.

"This is going to be so much fun if he can keep his servos away from his spike." You think to yourself as apologize to the others for your brief absence, trying to hide your smirk when a rather tense and twitchy Mirage tries to sneak his way back into the building.