yami_samuraiflo | Fic: TF

Valentine's Day is only tomorrow, but I wanted to start posting back my answers to

dellessa prompts today. The rest will follow tomorrow.
Thank you, both of you. Working on those prompts cheered me up, and I really needed that :)
I just hope you'll enjoy the results.

Still debating posting them over on AO3, maybe in 'At Random', unless I create another file...

For

camfield
Blaster/Bluestreak - That good old metal vibe
Warnings: Slash, sticky, toys, shameless Blaster and embarrassed Bluestreak

There’s something peculiar about music, Bluestreak muses as he settles briefly with a cube, having only a short pause before his next shift started. Yes, something very peculiar, especially the one Blaster keeps blasting on the Rec Room speakers. He knows it’s Blaster’s choice, because Jazz’s owns are usually less exotics. Except, Bluestreak is not quite sure what he finds peculiar about it, exactly. It’s not a bad tune, for sure, but it isn’t one Bluestreak fancies much. It’s a melody from Earth.

Oh, the Praxian loves Earth music, really, especially the classical kind because he finds it very soothing. But honestly, it holds nothing to the sweet electronic tunes he listened to back when he was a youngling on Cybertron.

Blaster doesn’t listen to anything soothing, though. It’s always loud, and noisy, and he dances and sings along with whatever he’s listening to. Except, this time, he doesn’t, Bluestreak realizes, finally noticing what was bothering him so much. Instead of being right in the middle of the room, tangling with Jazz to see who the best dancer is, the Cassettes’ Holder is slumping against the large speakers. He doesn’t move much, he just bobs his head to the rhythm of the music, and perhaps he’s actually singing a little, since his lips components are moving, but it’s hard to say, at this distance.

In itself, it’s very unusual, though nobody else seems to have picked on it. Instead, they’re all cheering Jazz as he practices some unusual moves, and laugh and cheer at those who adventure themselves to try, like Bumblebee or Sideswipe.

It mustn’t be very comfortable, Bluestreak thinks as the music gains in speed and tempo. Being so close to the speakers, at such a volume, the sounds must cause vibrations strong enough to reverberate in the orange mech’s entire frame. Surprisingly, Blaster seems to like that, because… Well, because his head is thrown back, and the grey mech can see him shake with… pleasure?

It’s not pain, of that he is sure. But what could the other mech could feel so pleasurable… about… vibrat…

Oh Primus…

Feeling suddenly flustered, the doorwinged mech quickly lowered his head to stare at his energon cubes, vents working hard. He sneaked another look at Blaster’s sprawled form. Despite laying half against the massive stereo and half on the floor, the other mech had thrown one of his legs over a chair. Bluestreak used a magnification on his optics, seeking some proofs he was incorrect. His optics weren’t as good as, say, Ratchet, but as a sniper, the Praxian had some very good sight enhancement mods. Perhaps he was mistaken. Perhaps Blaster was just feeling low and just wanted some rest while profiting from both the music he liked so much and the company of a few friends. Perhaps Bluestreak was just having dirty, shameful thoughts. However, to his dismay, he found what he had kinda hoped not to find. It was just some scarce drops of purplish liquid on the inside of Blaster’s exposed thigh, but those drops were more than enough to make Bluestreak want to moan in embarrassment.

::Blaster?:: he send over a private channel.

It took a moment for the other mech to ping him back. ::Mmmmmm… yeah, Blue?::

The Praxian hesitated before asking very fast. ::Doyouhaveatoystuffedintoyourvalveanddidyoujustoverloadinpublicwithoutanyonethewiser? Because if it’s the case,t han it’s very, very wrong, and if someone notices, they’re going to tell Prowl or Red Alert, and they’re not going to be amused, and you’re going to end up punished, and… ::

Blaster pinged back an affirmative answer, cutting short the younger mech’s worried rant, to Bluestreak’s mortification. ::Uh, uh. I do. The one shaped exactly like your spike, if you want to know,:: he sends back with a teasing chuckle, making Bluestreak’s face heat up.

::Blaaaaaaaaaster!!!:: he keened. ::I thought you had threw it up! It’s broken, remember?::

Oh Primus, how he wished Blaster had actually throw it away. To this orn, Bluestreak still didn’t know why he had agreed to had this specifically made toy created. Except, Blaster had pleaded and teased and asked, and well, the Praxian had agreed. It was supposed to be a simple vibrator, except some time ago, it had stopped working properly, to Blaster’s greatest anguish. It had been discarded by the two lovers in favor of other... kinky little things. Bluestreak had honestly thought the discarded item had been destroyed. But apparently, Blaster had kept it.

::Throwing away a piece of yourself? Well, something so accurately resembling a piece of yourself? Now, why would I do that?:: the older mech teased him. ::Wanted to have it repaired, but it’s not high on Wheeljack’s priorities. So I had to find an… alternative method to use it,:: he explained softly, a silent moan escaping his lips.

Alternative… Of course, Bluestreak realized. The toy couldn’t vibrate by itself. So the only way to make it vibrate somehow was to rely on a external source… like the very loud music blaring into the room.

::Blaster, why?:: he groaned deeply. ::Why do you always end up doing crazy stuff like that? It’s not that I don’t like it,:: he added quickly, ::but honestly, it’s only going to put us in trouble because it’s not appropriate and perhaps Jazz will laugh but Prowl will not and Ironhide either and I don’t even want to think about what Prime’ll say because they would tell him eventually and he would be so disappointed and…::

Blaster cut him out again. ::Oh, love…:: he sighed. ::Missed you so much, Blue. I couldn’t wait until tonight you finished your shift,:: he hushed softly.

Bluestreak’s doorwings sagged at the lustful admission. ::It wasn’t so long to wait…::

::It is for me, Blue,:: the other mech answered. :: I wanted you so bad… Still want you,:: he added. :: But you’re working, and I’m not, and Prowl would have my head if I attempted to go and chat up with you and distract you. So I found the next best thing.::

::Publically overloading with a replica of my spike in your valve?::

Blaster smiled. ::I knew you would pick it up.::

::And the others?:: the Praxian asked.

His lover shrugged. ::I don’t care ‘bout them, love. Only you, and knowing you do know I’m waiting for you to fill me up and make me love tender,:: he started to singsong.

Bluestreak’s engines involuntarily revved. ::I will,:: he promised him. ::As soon as I can. But please, stop this before you get caught,:: he asked Blaster desperately.

Blaster smirked as another song started playing. ::Naaaaw, not just now, love. I like this tune too much. It’s so full of good vibes,:: he purred, nearing another overload, unnoticed by anyone… Except perhaps by Jazz, and Bluestreak had the sneaky feeling the black and white mech was making so much ruckus (well, more so than usual) only to keep everyone attention away from Blaster.

Why, the Special Ops’ head gave Bluestreak a thumb up when the gray mech glanced his way. Bluestreak shuttered his optics and silently promised himself to have a long, long conversation with Blaster in their quarters at the end of his next shift…

For

dellessa
G1-Rodimus/Soundwave -Wavering
Warnings: Slash, Mpreg, implied threesome
Possible future of the 'Wetnurse' verse.

“Soundwave’s answer: no,” the telepath insisted, but without raising his voice.

Hot Rod – no, Rodimus Prime, he corrected himself once again – sighed. “Please, Soundwave; you barely set a foot outside this room since you first arrived. You just can’t stay cooped up in here all the time,” he tried to cajole the blue mech.

But Soundwave wasn’t deterred. He crossed his arms over his chest and gave Rodimus a look.

“Rodimus Prime’s intents: understood and appreciated. However, Soundwave: Decepticon at spark. Current circumstances: results of a very unlikely set of events. Autobots in general: know and understand the fact. Truth: limited or inexistent. Safety: better achieved in the Prime’s quarters.”

“They know what you think. But Megatron is dead,” Rodimus said quietly. “His cause had shifted since the war first started, and it hasn’t gotten better under the Decepticons’ new leadership. I know that. They know that. You know that. And few mechs can truly say they’re absolutely loyal to Galvatron. You don’t strike me as one of them. Or would you deny that?” he asked.

Soundwave remained silent. True, Galvatron wasn’t the leader he had sworn himself to. He was far more dangerous and unstable than Megatron could have ever hoped to be. Whatever they had been fighting for… the Autobots were actually closer to their original aims than Galvatron could or would ever understand.

“Soundwave: a captive in theory,” the telepath tried again.

“In theory,” Rodimus agreed. “A poor, helpless prisoner, subjected to the whims of the dirty-minded Prime, and treated like a prized pleasure slave and brood mare. Not that you would mind much, I’m sure,” he chuckled as he pressed his hands over Soundwave’s stomach plates. The sparkling growing inside the Cassettes’ holder gestational chamber wasn’t very developed yet, and wouldn’t show for quite some times. Still, it warmed Rodimus Prime to know it was here, safe and loved. “I’m supposed to be the big, bad one who abuses you and is slaving your Cassettes, pulling them to work so they can buy their safety and yours. But we both know it’s not the case. You’re here because I love you, because he basically left you out to die, because I rescued you and because there was no way I was letting you go back to that maniac. You’re only a prisoner in name. If things were different, I would call you a consort,” he added, startling Soundwave a little.

Consort wasn’t a title that the Prime should hand so easily. True, Soundwave shared his berth of his own freewill, and let himself made love to by Rodimus and his always faithful companion Springer. He didn’t mind carrying for them, and he didn’t mind helping raise the Prime’s progeny, like the firstborn he had helped to deliver on the Nemesis. But being named an official consort? Sharing the Prime’s power?

“Statement: bold and most likely: ill received by Autobots,” he carefully stated.

Rodimus snorted. “Do I look like I care? It’s my life, after all, and Springer is backing my decision. He does love you too, in his own gruff way,” he added, smiling at Soundwave started look. “You kidnapped me and kept me away from him, true, but you cared for me and for our son, you didn’t let any harm befall us and you let us go in the end. And he does think you’re a nice piece of aft, too.”

Soundwave blushed under his mask. Springer’s crude language wasn’t something he particularly appreciated, even if the green mech liked to call him a ‘good laid’. He didn’t seem to harbor any ill-will toward Soundwave, but the telepath often remained wary of him. Still, before he left for his next mission, he had been surprisingly gentle with the telepath. Of course, it mainly was because Soundwave was carrying, but he had been given equal care and love to Rodimus.

Springer puzzled him, truly.

Rodimus was looking at him again. “I understand you’re afraid of many things, and I know I can’t promise everything will turn out fine. Honestly, there are times where I am, too. I don’t want to think about what Galvatron would do to you or the little one if he ever managed to ‘rescue’ you,” he said grimly.

Soundwave had to grimace and put his hands over his middle protectively. He had a good idea about what Galvatron would do if he ever got his pawns on one of Rodimus’ offspring, even if it was carried by one of his soldiers… or former soldier. And if he was to learn about Soundwave’s betrayal… “If Soundwave: captive, then Soundwave: shouldn’t be allowed outside. Hot Rod: never allowed outside of Soundwave’s quarters when he was a captive,” he insisted. For the little one’s sake, he could endure. Beside, his ‘captivity’ was better than Hot Rod/Rodimus ever had been. Those quarters were larger and he would request anything and he didn’t have to be bound. His Cassettes were free to come and see him, provided neither him nor Rodimus’ sparkling were tired, and the Prime still agreed to breastfeed them from times to times. What could he complain about, really?

Rodimus, however, always seemed to want to give him more.

“Yeah, but I really was a prisoner back then. You’re not, and my Autobots know this, and they’ll never go and repeat it to the Decepticons. And without your support and the support of your Cassettes, I would be very surprised they can gather as much Intel as they used to,” the Prime parried easily. “Besides, even if they didn’t, I’d doubt someone would say something about the Prime taking his lover out so he could show off one of his mate and his future sparkling,” he added cheekily.

“Statement: partially untrue. Chances of the sparkling being Rodimus Prime’s own: about 50%...” Soundwave pointed out before Rodimus kissed him on his battle mask, right where his mouth should have been effectively silencing him.

“Even if he isn’t mine, I’m still going to be the one who’ll feed him and raise him along with you and Springer,” the Prime stated with a soft smile. “Just like I’ll do with the one I’m currently carrying and their older sibling,” he added while caressing his own abdomen. “This time, Springer will be there,” he whispered softly, and Soundwave turned his head away, slightly uneasy. It was his fault the emergence of the first one hadn’t been shared by the couple. “He will be there for the both of us,” Rodimus added. “Won’t you like this? Having the Sire, no matter if it’s him or I, holding your hand will you deliver a new life?”

Soundwave had to admit it was appealing, if only for diminishing the irrational fear of something going wrong he kept feeling when he thought about the process. It would be his first sparkling, technically. His Cassettes were part of him, created from his own spark, but the process had been very different. He nodded silently, not trusting himself to speak.

Rodimus threw his arms around his shoulders and pressed against him.

“Everything will be fine, I’ll make sure of that,” he assured the other mech. “So please, Soundwave… come out with me. We’ll just stop to the Rec Room for a cube, so the others can see you; I want them to know how lucky I am to have a mate like you and how happy I am we’re going to be creators… again. I know Kup want to congratulate you himself for your good fortune. And afterward, we can go to the Medbay and see First Aid. He’s fretting because it’ll be the first time he will handle a sparkling emergence, and he has been begging me to talk to you about your experience. And we could also go and see your Cassettes at Blaster’s workplace. I know you miss them while you stay in here. And I’m sure you would like to spend more time with Flamelight. How about we pick him up early from the crèche?” he asked with a gentle smile. “I’m sure he will be delighted to see his second Sire.”

For a moment, Soundwave wavered, unsure. Appearance of his captivity should have been kept better, with some restraints, or a guard at the door, or something. But Rodimus had raised some good points.

It was, as he put it, unlikely that an Autobot would betray the truth of the situation to Galvatron, because no matter their personal feelings for Soundwave, he was carrying the Prime’s future offspring… or the one of his favored mate, which was quite similar in Rodimus’ optics. It was also unlikely that Decepticons could put a bug in this base. Soundwave was, admittedly, tired of only staying in one room, despite its comfort. Seeing the medic about his current state couldn’t hurt, after all. And he did like to spend time with Flamelight… If only to get used to bear a fragile sparkling in his arms.

Soundwave finally nodded hesitantly, and Rodimus smiled widely before taking his hand and starting to drag him behind him to face the outside world, not letting him rethink his decision.

Two down, six more to go :)