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Drabble Rabble	By : Chaosdreamer Category: Transformers > Transformers: Animated > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 3377 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Transformers and all recognizable characters are owned by Hasbro. I am making no profit writting these stories.

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Title: TFA Drabbles
Author: dreamerchaos
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are owned by Hasbro. I''m only playing with them.
Rating: Mature. STICKY.
Summary: Continuing the drabble scheme. Also a sequel in here to a previous drabble, given the requests of several reviewers. Future drabbles will have another sequel and request from hecate. Drabbles mostly focused on the Megatron/Optimus variety.
Author note: Spent a good week getting over a respiratory bug and crud that’s been going around. Not forgetting the week before that when my muses decided to hit the road on vacation without informing me. Sorry to disappear yet again!

MegatronxOptimus PrimexBlitzwing STICKY
Persuasion
Continuation from the request by Lyricality

His attempts to rip free and run for the door prove fruitless. The two Decepticons easily pulling him back, the Prime alternating between cursing and screaming.

After several ‘sessions’ the Decepticon Lord tears off the stasis cuffs, giving the Prime the opportunity to scrabble and claw at the ground helplessly as he is expertly pierced once more, whimpering into his folded arms as Megatron buries deep, hands acting as the cuffs and chains, holding his slimmer waist steady as the Decepticon pounds into him.

He isn’t certain how much time passes, nor how many overloads his sore body is forced to endure.

Once more Blitzwing swoops down upon him. The triple-changer straddling the Autobot, hips rolling, long and slow, the Decepticon purring as the Prime’s plug dips and brushes the insides of his port. Random snickers, leaning down, hands intertwined with the Prime’s, nipping at the mech’s tilted chin as Optimus grimaces, helm tilted, blue optics narrowed as he tries to ignore the larger mech upon him.

From there time is a blur. Until he is now straddling Megatron, the Decepticon Lord forcing the Autobot’s hips to push down and accept the length of his plug. The top of Optimus’ butting against the Decepticon’s chin, fingers digging feebly into the broader mech’s wide chassis. Icy rubbing against his leader’s back strut, leaning over his lord’s shoulder and sharing a long, thorough tangle of lips and tongue with Megatron.

Finally, he is granted a small measure of pity. After what feels like orns, Megatron dismisses the other Decepticon. Blitzwing dipping down and smothering the Autobot with a deep, passionate kiss, Random snickering a “Call me when you want a good time!” before leaving the Prime to Megatron’s tender mercies.

“Please, no more..” Optimus begs, while tugged into the Decepticon’s embrace. He grimaces at the warm trickle and slide of lavender lubricant down his thighs, bare interface components throb in agony. Pelvic guard haphazardly removed earlier when he had refused to remove it himself.

Megatron chuckles, amused ¯ dipping his glossa to run a long sliver over the Prime’s swollen lip components, fingers mapping the scuffs and scrapes from the two Decepticons’ rough handling ¯ “You have provided suitable entertainment.” The Decepticon decrees.

Optimus shudders, hiding his face when the Decepticon scoops him up, the Autobot weighed little in comparison.

“Where-” Optimus is unsure where they are going, the larger mech carrying him into private quarters interconnected with the throne room.

He flinches in alarm when the new room shows to hold a large berth and miscellaneous items, signifying that these were Megatron’s personal quarters.

“You have persuaded me to spare your little Autobot friends for this cycle.” Megatron stretches out upon the berth, the Prime still trapped within his arms, in between the larger Decepticon and the wall connected to the berth, “Perhaps you will provide equally pleasurable persuasion after the following solar rotation in order to ensure their lives during the next cycle.”

Shockwave/Optimus Prime
Curiosity

Shockwave, adorning his Longarm Prime visage, paused before taking a step back to peer down the intersecting street.

Not too far, another Prime leaned against the wall of a building, hiding the majority of his face and frame within the shadow of the poorly lit street.

However, Shockwave recognized enough of the Prime’s scuffed, poor paintwork and frame to recall his designation.

Optimus Prime.

The Prime that had endured the shame and rebuke from his peers, courtesy of his fellow Sentinel Prime, after a poor episode on some organic planet where their accompanying femme friend had been lost during a skirmish with the local organic life-forms.

Curious, ‘Longarm’ approached the disheveled figure. “Optimus?” He hailed the other Prime.

Optimus looked up at the summons. He blinked in surprise, then recognition. “Longarm – I mean, Longarm Prime, sir.”

The other Prime’s gaze flickered kindly over his scuffed, dirty frame. “…You do not join the others in the barracks?”

Optimus lowered his gaze. Biting his bottom lip self-consciously, “I’m…not really welcomed among fellow Autobots. It’s hard for me to stay out of Sentinel Prime’s path.”

“Is it also safe for me to discern that your lack of maintenance and…poor intake of sustenance are also caused by the ill-treatment of your companions.”

Optimus flushes, arms wrapping tighter around his waist when his fuel tank gurgles in discontent, energy readings low, pumps aching for several cubes of warm, glowing energon.

“Hmmm.” Longarm Prime hums thoughtfully. He lays a calming hand on the other Prime’s shoulder, tightening his grip when the shorter mech automatically flinches, anticipating a cruel laugh or a harsh hand, “I think that you should join me in my quarters. Fresh fuel and warm wash racks would do wonders.”

“B-but I-”

Longarm Prime brooked no argument. “Do not concern yourself with the others.” The Prime insists, “I find that I enjoy that my quarters are separated from the other soldiers, and I trust that neither of us will come across any during our walk.”

It was like leading a timid sparkling by the hand, but Shockwave’s patience never wavered. He led the fellow Prime, pulling the unwary Autobot into the Decepticon spy’s quarters, and inadvertently stumbling into a dangerous web, lured like a fly to a spider by the mech’s calming touch and words.

Shockwave/Optimus Prime
Recruitment
Sequel to Curiosity

Fresh from the private wash racks and lying upon his berth, Optimus Prime curled up into a tight fetal position, face scrunched in worry, hands squeezed into balled fists against his chassis. Appearing far younger by vorns during recharge.

Shockwave ¯ his Prime disguise discarded as soon as the Autobot fell into recharge ¯
Sat on the side of the berth. Long claws idly tracing the mech’s slack features with the back of sharp talons.

He did not worry about the mech waking and discovered his true appearance, the energon that he had provided earlier laced with an undetectable level of sedatives.

Looking at the trusting figure recharging within arm’s length of a Decepticon, Shockwave internally scoffed at the degree of malice and scorn that the Autobots delivered upon their own, on a young and impressionable mech at that…And to think that the Autobots called the Decepticons scum.

True, the Decepticons were forceful and sometimes harsh amongst their own ranks, but they were not sparkless. Shockwave could count on one hand the amount of times fellow Decepticons coldly sent away one of their own that was aching or needing companionship of some sort.

…But still…His hand flexed against, wicked talons curving against the mech’s face. There were possibilities here for something far greater than luring a Prime into his grasp.

Optimus Prime mumbled unintelligibly, while his face burrowed into his folded arms. Forehead tapping against Shockwave’s hip, the Autobot instinctively curling against the other’s warmth.

Staring at the Prime’s face resolutely for a long while, Shockwave’s singular red optic never left the recharging mech while he commed the private line. “My Lord Megatron. I may hold something of interest.”

Megatron/Optimus Prime, Shockwave
Introduction
Sequel to Recruitment

Within the next fortnight, Shockwave successfully arranged an audience with his Lord.

Coercing and delivering the Prime to his master had been another matter entirely.

The Prime was shocked, needless to say, when he awoke to see that Longarm Prime was a Decepticon agent. Shockwave forced to restraint and pin the Prime to the berth before the mech could cause greater stir.

Literally holding the Prime captive within his quarters, Shockwave was privately thankful that Optimus companions took no notice of his sudden disappearance. Allowing the spy the time to cajole and coax the Prime into compliance.

“Give me one credible argument,” Shockwave commanded, pinning the Prime’s hands with one of his own, “Why should you remain loyal to those who have so eagerly discarded you?”

“Y-you…” Optimus Prime struggled, “You’re a Decepticon agent!”

“Only our insignias separate us,” Shockwave laid his other hand upon the mech’s chassis, pinning him flat. The Prime gasped at the weight, and the strength silently belied by the clacking talons drumming upon the plating of his chest.

Shockwave levered over the Prime, leaning down to whisper persuasively, “What if I could give you plenty of reasons to discard that crude red symbol?”

Now they both stood before the Decepticon Lord. Shockwave’s master.

Shockwave stood at the Prime’s back, talons curving around Optimus’ shoulders, firm grip keeping the Prime rooted to the spot, the faint trembles in the mech’s frame clacking against the smooth lines of his taloned fingers.

“Do not look upon him in fear,” Shockwave whispered into the timid mech’s audio, “Instead look upon him in awe and respect. For he is your Lord, superior to all Autobots and Decepticons.”

Megatron approached his soldier and his younger companion, scowling at the Autobot insignia, but trusting that Shockwave had a valid reason to bring the Prime. At the very worst, they would both have to be careful to hide the body from detection if the Autobot proved to be difficult to tolerate.

“What is this that you have for me, Shockwave?” Megatron cups the Prime’s chin within one hand, tilting the hunkered face upward, revealing the frightened young face.

“My Lord,” Shockwave bowed his helm in supplication, “You honor me with your presence. Please accept this token as I present this young soldier to your mercy and your scrutiny.”

The Decepticon Lord carefully scrutinized the shivering mech, the Autobot’s optics wide in terror, but remaining as steady as he could ¯on his own two pedes ¯ and under Shockwave’s anchoring grip.

That small ounce of courage satisfied the Decepticon. Ensuring his interest, and guaranteeing the wisdom of Shockwave’s decision.

Megatron/Optimus, Shockwave
Initiation
Sequel to Introduction

It started with a low hiss of pain. Then climbed higher to crescendo into a long moaning wail as the branding iron scorched the lavender insignia into his shoulder, metal and paint popping and hissing under the torching heat.

Optimus shuddered as the Decepticon Lord swiftly removed the hot iron, knees buckling, his graceless tumble stilled as Shockwave caught his fall, hands curled under the mech’s limp arms.

Megatron tossed the branding iron away, its purpose accomplished. He crouched down, scrutinizing the work of the brand, purring in pleasure over the layout of the Decepticon insignia, masking the accursed Autobot symbol that had tarnished the mech’s frame.

“You have proven to be worthy of bearing my symbol.” Between Megatron and Shockwave, the two mechs help their younger companion onto his pedes. “After countless trials and proving your mettle and fortitude during you training, you stand before us as a proud Decepticon.

“Bow and thank your lord.” Shockwave hisses quietly in curt direction, keeping the mech as steady as possibly as Optimus complies.

Optimus folds his middle section, bowing gracefully to his master. Accepting the large hand that slides into his, kissing the back of the Lord’s hand in supplication, “My loyalty is forever bound to you.” He seals the vow, shoulders trembling in pleasure as the mech deigns to brush his fingers along the sensitive arc of his audios, Megatron chuckling in approval as his newest soldier bows to his superior.

Megatron/Optimus
Battle
Sequel to Initiation

“I always knew you would turn traitor!” Sentinel Prime howls in fury, clutching at the gaping wound that used to be his right arm.

Familiar blue optics ¯ the azure shade remaining, Megatron finding perverse amusement in keeping the blue color to forever symbolize Optimus’ corruption and betray of his former comrades ¯ coldly look back upon the Prime. Optimus tapping the back of his axe against his shoulder.

“Time changes a mech.” Optimus smiles benignly at his old friend, “But you, Sentinel.” He clucks his tongue in disapproval, “You still keep shouting and blustering on and on. I forgot how tiring it was to listen to you.”

“Fragging Decepticon scum!”

Cherubic smile never faltering, Optimus raises his battleaxe. The filtered light of the corridor light bulbs highlight the sharp sheen of the weapon’s edge, “Give my regards to Ultra Magnus.” The weapon swinging down in a perfect arc.

MegatronxOptimus STICKY
Climax
Sequel to Battle

“M-my Lord, I am not worthy…”

Megatron’s growl trickles against his chassis, Optimus shivering as large hands splay his slender form along the sharp edges of his Lord’s chassis. He cries out sharply as the hands slither down, cupping and squeezing his aft, rocking his codpiece against the solid beam of Lord Megatron’s thigh, “You will not deny me this.” Megatron snarls.

“M-my Lord!” Optimus gasps as he is released, then spun around, his Lord snagging one wrist and pulling the mech by the hand, hurrying them both towards the Lord’s private chambers.

Optimus falls upon the berth, legs sprawled wide, peering up owlishly at his Lord. “My Lord, please. I’ve never lain with a mech¯”

Megatron glides the sharp edge of his denta along the mech’s wrist, pressing firm lips against the pulsing metal plates as he smoothly slips onto the large berth, slinking over the slimmer mech, sliding down to lever Optimus’ thighs apart with the width of his shoulders, “Then allow me to sear this first of many onto your memory core.”

Optimus moaned softly while Megatron traced the sensitive plating of his torso, slowly mapping his path downward.

The younger mech jerks in alarm as his pelvic plating instinctively snaps open at the teasing lap and nip of glossa and denta. The warm air from Megatron’s lips causing his plug to stiffen and his port to shudder.

Megatron moans in approval, lapping at the tip of the mech’s plug. Optimus shrieking in alarm, thighs prevented from clapping shut around Megatron’s helm by the larger mech’s hands splitting his legs open.

Optimus’ cries pitch higher when Megatron slides lower, catching the beginning trickle of lubricants that spill from the mech’s port. “My Lord!” Optimus shivers, hands slipping for a handhold upon his Lord’s shoulders, curling around the warm intruder as Megatron mercilessly pierces his innards. The smooth slide of glossa stabbing into his port, mapping the warm tunnel, matching the instinctive thrusts of the mech’s hips with the answering plunge of the warm slick appendage.

One, then two fingers piercing him cause a stab of discomfort. Optimus whimpering with a thread of fear, not completely certain that he can possibly accept the entirety of his Lord into his body.

He blinks in surprise, as he is rolled onto his stomach, then coaxed onto his hands and knees. He shudders, peering over his shoulder, beseeching his Lord for guidance.

“It will cause less discomfort,” Megatron soothes, resting an authoritative hand on the small of Optimus’ back, “Now relax.”

“Ooooh..” He tires but fails to comply with his Lord’s command, the tip of Megatron’s plug causing his port to sting in agony. He tries to buck free, but the firm hands hold him prisoner. Whining and begging softly for his Lord to release him, “No, it’s too big…”

Megatron’s denta grit into a snarl, forcing himself to remain firm but slow. He sinks into his smaller partner, causing the mech to pitch into a wail of surprise when he is fully pierced, the initial pain slowly fading, a teasing pulse of pleasure spiking his sensors.

Megatron purrs as the port walls clench around him, hands kneading and smoothing up and down the mech’s spread thighs. Ruby optics alights with perverse pleasure at the sight of his plug piercing the wet depths of Optimus’ warm core. Silver-white thighs trembling like a racehorse against the steady gray and black of Megatron’s hips.

“Steady.” His Lord coaches. Optimus’ helm shudders up and down as Megatron slowly slides halfway out, before thrusting forward, burying himself all the way back in.

Optimus grips the head of the berth, balancing his weight as his Lord begins a firm, marked pace of thrust and pull. The breath gusting from his lips spreading a cloud of condensation upon the berth’s metal, Optimus’ mouth kissing his reflection as he bulks and humps back into the hard invader plumbing the slick walls of his port.

Megatron’s pace quickens minutely, enraptured by the sight of his soldier trembling and writhing beneath his hands, those lips and flushed face tempting.

Optimus nearly shrieks in surprise and alarm as Megatron’s plug tears free entirely, and flipped onto his back. His wail of gratification echoes across the walls as Megatron sprawls between his thighs ¯ sinking into him again ¯ further cries stifled by the mouth crashing upon his.

The smaller mech cups his Lord’s face, murmuring softly and crying out sharp encouragement as Megatron moves faster and deeper, nearly splitting him into two with each thrust.

“Lord Megatron!” The Decepticon’s voice is a shout and a prayer, Optimus tearing his mouth free, arms encircling his Lord’s neck, clinging to him as he soars higher and closer to overload. “Please. My Lord!”

Megatron wraps his arms around his slimmer partner, growling into his neck, hips pistoning as he pushes faster and closer until final he tumbles willingly into overload, followed by Optimus, marking his ascent with a sharp cry and bite, Optimus gritting his teeth into Megatron’s collar.

The Decepticon Lord gusts a sigh of content, flopping bonelessly upon the smaller Decepticon. Drawing a sharp ‘whoof’ as his weight overwhelms Optimus, the mech still impaled and sprawled flat by his Lord’s weight.

Megatron managed to roll onto his side, one hand keeping the mech against his chassis, Optimus shivering as the Lord’s plug stirs from their sharp movement.

Lusts soothed for the time being, Megatron amuses his fascination with the mech’s mouth, mapping and conquering every crevice, hands tracing won territory, laying possession to ever limb, strut, and plate while he regains his composure. Nowhere near ready to release the mech, having far too many plans to entertain his pleasure with the young soldier.

He would be curious to see if Optimus would be able to leave his quarters unattended, legs steady and only faintly sore after their romp, or if he would be forced to share his berth while the fire truck recovered during the next solar cycle.
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