Flash Fiction Fills Take 64 Part Nine

[dracoqueen22]

For megadad anon
Prompt: megatron acts dadly towards soundwave's symbiotes

Fandom: Transformers Prime. Warnings: None

He wasn’t entirely sure when he started or why, but it seemed too cruel to stop for no reason at all. Especially when there was such a positive benefit and double-especially since Soundwave approved.

A well-placed word of praise caused Frenzy and Rumble to beam brightly at him. They jostled each other with their elbows, but there was no mistaking the flush of pride in their fields.

They had gone from a pair of troublemakers to a set of dangerous weapons who couldn’t be compromised. And all it had taken was a few kind words and encouragement, something they had both earned.

They still needed discipline from time to time. They were as younglings, playful and unfocused. But a stern look from Megatron was generally all it took to obtain good behavior.

Ravage preferred trust, to sit at Megatron’s side and hold a conversation. Ravage did not need praise; she was already confident. She needed and wanted to be seen as a person, acknowledged as an equal. For that, Megatron earned her loyalty and her confidence.

Laserbeak was happy for a perch on his shoulder, and a sip of Megatron’s potent high grade. Though Megatron wasn’t sure that ‘sip’ was the right word. Laserbeak could drink any full-grown mech under the table.

She had earned her place on Megatron’s shoulder. She welcomed praise like her brothers, her field thick with pride. Sometimes, she even chose Megatron over Soundwave, something he found greatly amusing.

Soundwave had given him a curious look at the time. And then later, he came to Megatron with a request, one that both surprised and honored Megatron.

If anything should happen, Soundwave asked that Megatron look after his symbiotes. That they trusted Megatron with their well-being, and Soundwave would relax knowing that they were in good hands.

Megatron accepted. It was hardly a burden. They were fine Decepticons.

Megatron’s other soldiers never fully understood why he treated the symbiotes differently. It was impossible to explain in terms they would recognize. But at least they knew better than to direct their jealousies toward them. Soundwave was scary.

But Megatron, with a single smirk that bared his sharpened denta, was much scarier than Soundwave could ever hope to be. They left the symbiotes alone.

For nkfloofiepoof
Prompt: Grimlock/Starscream, “You’re Not Here,” Silent Hill 3

Fandom: Transformers AU. Crown the Empire series. Warnings: NSFW like whoa

It should have made him angry, irrational beyond all reason. But there was something about the arrogance in Grimlock’s field that was a shade different and acceptable. Rather than inspiring vitriol, it made heat drizzle down Starscream’s spinal strut.

He should have snarled and jerked away. Instead, he cried out and drew in desperate pants through his vents as Grimlock crowded against him from behind, pinning him against the wall of the washracks. Solvent pattered down on top of them, steaming hot, a rain against Starscream’s already heated plating.

Grimlock’s face pressed against the side of his neck, ex-vents caressing Starscream’s cables. His mouthplate vibrated, adding to the pleasure.

Starscream tossed his helm back and moaned. His hands scraped at the walls, fingers tangling in the metallic mesh. Grimlock’s hands gripped his waist, his hips. He lifted Starscream with ease as he ground against Starscream’s aft. His spike left a wet smear, one that was washed away by a stream of solvent.

Arousal throbbed heavy in Starscream’s lines. His panels were open, spike throbbing, valve pulsing, dripping lubricant. He canted his hips backward, waiting for the moment when Grimlock would slide into him, thick and wide, parting the folds of his valve and taking him.

Such thoughts should have angered him. Made him humiliated. Yet, he felt the complete opposite when Grimlock touched him. Careful and appreciative, rather than rough and dismissive. He felt celebrated, not used.

He felt wanted.

“Tell me,” Grimlock growled into his audial, his spike rubbing against Starscream’s rim, catching on his anterior node. Pleasure lit a bonfire through his circuits.

Starscream growled. He shuttered his optics, bowed his helm, the solvent pattering down over him. Every time, damn it. Every time, Grimlock insisted on this.

Grimlock’s helm rubbed against his, affection and insistence. His fingers flexed on Starscream’s waist. His ex-vents blew into the shower, setting off a rise of steam.

“Tell me,” he demanded again.

Starscream’s engine growled. He was on the tip of his pedes as he shoved his aft back toward Grimlock, canting his hips encouragingly. “Do it,” he demanded as something inside of him clicked into place, welcoming. “Frag me, damn you. Do it.”

Grimlock growled, a near-bestial sound. He lifted Starscream that much higher, clear off his pedes. He rolled his hips, the head of his spike catching against the lip of Starscream’s valve. It nudged inside, lighting up the first ring of sensors, and Starscream moaned. He was already halfway to overload and Grimlock had barely touched him.

“Tell me to stop,” Grimlock said, not a request, but a reminder.

“More,” Starscream said instead and shuddered when Grimlock obeyed, when he pushed into Starscream in one slow, aching slide.

Every single sensor node lit up at once, and Starscream shuddered, his valve cycling down. Arousal tangled inside of him as electric fire coursed through his frame. He moaned, hands scraping at the wall, as Grimlock bottomed out inside of him and then circled his hips, grinding steadily on Starscream’s ceiling node.

He panted, desperate breaths through his vent. His plating heated, solvent evaporating with a sizzle where it touched him. Grimlock throbbed within him, his grip unrelenting and steadying. His field rose up, swallowing Starscream whole, full of desire and appreciation and Starscream writhed just in that sensation alone. His wings shivered, trapped against Grimlock’s bulk, the press of his chestplate. Grimlock’s engine roared, the vibrations carrying through Starscream’s entire frame.

He overloaded with a shout, valve cycling down tight, spike dribbling transfluid to join the solvent swirl down the drain.

Grimlock nuzzled against his helm, spike keeping still within Starscream’s valve as charge nipped at the receptor nodes. “That was one,” he growled as his fingers flexed. “Think we have time for two?”

Starscream pushed against the wall, shoving himself backward as best he was capable, stirring the spike within his valve. He peered over his shoulder, catching the gleam of Grimlock’s visor.

“We have time for as many as you think you can manage,” Starscream replied, ignoring the rasp in his vocalizer and the tremors wracking his frame.

Grimlock chuckled, his spike pulsing. “Is that a challenge, my second?”

A shiver zapped down Starscream’s spinal strut. There was something in the way Grimlock claimed him with words alone that never failed to make Starscream melt.

“Of course it is,” he retorted, though the waspish reply fell short when it trailed into a moan as Grimlock started to move, little rolling thrusts that toyed with his sensor nodes.

Grimlock purred into his audial. “Then it’ll be my pleasure.”

Starscream gasped as Grimlock started to move again, inciting curls of pleasure that seemed to radiate through Starscream’s frame.

At this rate, they’d never leave the washracks. Thank Primus for the solvent recycling facilities. And that the only one who’d dare disturb them would never do so.

It was an indulgence in something Starscream never thought he would have. And he wasn’t going to let go anytime soon.

For Rayearthmagic
Prompt: Iron Chef Megatron

Fandom: Transformers. Warnings: None

“I am confused,” Megatron said as he paced in front of the long table, his hands clasped behind his back. “Which part of my orders were unclear?”

Half of his Decepticons squirmed where they stood. The other half returned his gaze, completely unconcerned.

“We require these treats to procure the funds we need to restock and refuel before we can leave this miserable excuse for a planet,” Megatron continued, his engine growling as his optics narrowed. “So when I commanded that you create something that would sell, I did not expect such utter and complete failure.”

“Lord Megatron, I object–”

“Do not test me, Knock Out,” Megatron said as he stopped in front of Knock Out’s offering and looked down at an energon so pale it lacked color. “Given what you’ve brought today.”

Knock Out claimed it was high grade. But it lacked both odor and color and taste. Megatron might as well have been drinking air.

Knock Out folded his arms over his chestplate. “It is a high-powered blend, my lord,” he said with a lifted chin. “It is meant for only the finest of palates.”

“Right,” Megatron drawled. “Palates so fine they don’t exist.”

He snorted and moved on to the next offering, which happened to be Shockwave’s. Here was one failure that Megatron had not expected. But the thing clumped together on a plate resembled a noxious, offensive ooze.

It was yellow. Why was it yellow?

Megatron squinted.

Yellow was the single most unappealing color for consumables in the universe.

“Are you serious?” Megatron asked.

“It contains every nutrition a growing biomechanical might need for optimum maturation,” Shockwave said.

Megatron didn’t want to sniff it. He didn’t want to touch it. He certainly didn’t want to taste it.

“So you’ve created the Cybertronian equivalent of medical grade energon and called it candy?” Megatron demanded.

Shockwave’s single optic blinked. “The parameters of the challenge were to design candy?”

Unicron take them all.

“Maybe you’ll like mine better?” Skywarp chirped, bouncing into Shockwave’s personal space as he held up a cube for Megatron’s perusal.

It was… promising.

Megatron selected the cube and held it up – noticing tangentially that Skywarp stuck his glossa out at Shockwave. The contents were purple and bubbly, but also oddly sludgy. A tentative sniff gave it a sweet, almost pleasant flavor.

It was worth a try.

Megatron tilted up the cube toward his lips and tried to take a sip. Nothing happened. Odd.

He pulled back the cube and peered at it. Half of the contents were gone, but he’d tasted nothing. He cycled his optics and upended the cube.

The liquid poured out and then proceeded to… evaporate? Seriously.

He cut a glance toward Skywarp who was sinking sheepishly back to his post. His faceplate pinked.

“I take it back,” Megatron said dryly. “Knock Out’s high grade was tasteless. Yours doesn’t even have the audacity to exist.” He handed the empty cube back to Skywarp, whose wings drifted downward in disappointment.

And if Shockwave loudly cycled his vocalizer, Megatron pretended not to notice.

Next, and certainly not least, was an offering of Starscream’s. The square-cut energon gels were a bright blue and dusted with what looked like magnesium powder.

Megatron leaned over and squinted at them. They looked delicious. They looked perfect. They looked like little cubes of poison sure to end him.

He peered up at Starscream with narrowed optics.

“I honestly don’t know if I should consume these or shoot them,” Megatron said and flashed his second a denta-baring grin. “Just to be sure.”

Starscream harrumphed and crossed his arms. “Jealousy does not become you, my lord.”

“But suspicion has saved my spark at least twice,” Megatron retorted and he straightened. Someone else would have to sample Starscream’s offer.

He pinched the bridge of his olfactory sensor and looked at the rest of the long table, where more questionable treats awaited his approval.

This was going to be a long, long cycle.

a/n: Slowly but surely winding down to the last of the flash fics. Got one more bundle of three to come and then I can stamp complete on them.