Drabbles4
Title: Drabbles4
Author: dreamerchaos
Disclaimer: Transformers is owned by Hasbro. Not mine, sadly.
Summary: G1. More drabbles courtesy of the pairing generator goodness. More of the Dinobots and Perceptor madness. Pretty much crack. This time have a couple of smuts.
Note: Some of the sequels are not based on the pairing generator's results. I just used the style to make each drabble connect together a little better.
Grimlock / Prowl / regret
Sequel to 'Club'
(Non-smut version!)
Sludge / Perceptor / bath
Sequel to 'Regret (Non-smut version!)'
Snarl/ Perceptor/ prey
Sequel to 'Bath'
Grimlock / Prowl / regret
Pure smut version!!
Megatron / Perceptor / prize
Sequel to 'Like an open book'
Inferno/ Red Alert / mistake
(Smut!)
The Transformers G1 Random Pairing Generator
Grimlock / Prowl / regret
Sequel to 'Club'
(Non-smut version!)
For Prowl, he comes to regret Wheeljack showing the Dinobots a human documentary Walking With Dinosaurs, and other documentaries focused on their alternator forms.
More specifically, he is forced to watch Grimlock carry out a vivid scene from his favorite episode...not surprisingly acting it out by stalking his most favorite prey.
"The tyrannosaur is a stalk and ambush predator..."
Indeed. Prowl's optics are not blind to the larger mech following the microscope at a discrete distance.
The fact that Grimlock even knows how to be discrete...
Perceptor never realizes that a dangerous predator is stalking him, continuing on with his projects over the next few cycles.
"The group of docile plant-eaters are unaware of the threat stalking the herd..."
The commentary runs in a steady monologue inside his CPU, as Prowl stands guard outside the Ark as he and a small party of Autobots survey the extent of flooding caused by steady rain over a period of five cycles.
The Dinobots amuse themselves with mock-battles - enjoying the opportunity to stretch their limbs after being cooped up inside the Ark during the rain - Grimlock and Sludge wrestling while Bumblebee and Jazz set up a cheering section, alternating between praising either mech as the other's footing falters during their 'battle'.
Most of the mechs not otherwise distracted by the Dinobots tumbling and play fighting - Hound and Perceptor at the lead - are amazed at the large lake of water that has formed not too far from the Ark's entrance. The body of water, now a soup of thick mud and brackish water, is causing Sunstreaker noticeable distress. The mech hovers at the far edge of the lake, dreading the thought of the cold muck touching his paint.
"Don't see what's so interesting." Sunstreaker mutters sullenly.
Hound and Perceptor appear stunned by his admission. "But isn't it amazing!" Hound waves his arm in the lake's direction. "Think of all of the microorganisms concentrated in the soil bed."
Sunstreaker makes a face that clearly shows his distaste.
"Fascinating." Perceptor stands at the very edge, carefully watching his footing while leaning down to peer at the water's surface.
"Suddenly. One of them senses that they are being watched."
Prowl notices how Perceptor suddenly stiffens, a frown marring his face. Confused by the odd blip in his sensory net, no doubt, sensing some sort of impeding threat.
The tactician doesn't have the chance to warn the microscope of the onrushing threat.
Grimlock, realizing that his prey was completely distracted, appears out of nowhere, barreling into the mech from behind. Lifting the microscope clear off his feet.
Perceptor emits a sharp 'meep' of surprise and horror as they fly forward, landing in a belly flop near the center of the brackish lake.
Sunstreaker nearly leaps out of his dermal plating to avoid the small wave of mud and water that is the result of the two mechs' impromptu bath. "Watch the paint!" He barks.
"The prey never knows what hit him."
Grimlock shakes his head fiercely back and forth through the thick pools of mud, mimicking the act of a tyrannosaur tearing into its prey. Perceptor manages to push himself up onto his knees, streaking thin lines of mud across his face while he attempts to scrape away thicker patches of mud.
"Grimlock King of all Dinosaurs!!" Grimlock pumps his arms up into the air in triumph. Never mind how ridiculous the large mech looks covered head to toe in mud oozing down his broad torso and limbs.
Sludge's head perks up, catching his leader's loud jubilant bellow.
"Me Sludge want to play, too!" The large mech calls, pitching towards the two mechs half-sitting - half-swimming - in the muddy lake.
"No no no no nnnnooooo!" Sunstreaker pleads, watching in horror as the large mech rumbles past, leaping into the air and performing an impressive cannon ball into the lake.
Perceptor disappears under the subsequent wave of mud that shoots over his helm, and many of the other mechs along the lake's perimeter fail to scramble away in time to avoid the tsunami of mud and debris.
To his right, Prowl notices that Jazz has fallen to his knees, convulsing from the laughter that seizes his frame. Bumblebee is of no help, the minicon practically rolling on the ground beside the saboteur. "Please tell me that Red Alert's cameras have been recording that." Jazz manages to wheeze out.
"My paint!!" Sunstreaker wails in horror.
Prowl sighs, but lips pinch together to stifle a laugh at the sight of Sunstreaker shrieking his head off about his bodywork. He imagines that no one in the Ark will hear the end of this for the next few cycles.
Moving forward, he sidesteps the two tussling Dinobots, Sludge laughing in delight as he pins his leader, shoving the mech's face into the mud. Prowl decides that it is probably necessary to wade in and rescue Perceptor before he drowns.
Sludge / Perceptor / bath
Sequel to 'Regret (Non-smut version!)'
"Get in here." Perceptor leads the large mech into the wash racks. "You're utterly filthy!"
"Perceptor just as dirty." Sludge counters, but obediently follows.
"Yes." Perceptor agrees. He can't ignore the stiffening joints, the irritating mud from Grimlock and Sludge's impromptu mud wrestling seeping into uncomfortable areas. "And now that the others have had their turn, we need to get all this mud and grit off."
Sludge hums. "Mud makes Sludge all itchy." He complains, fingers scrapping at the dried patches that are irritating sensitive wires and plating.
Perceptor coaxes the mech over towards the taller and wider section of the wash racks designed for mechs more of his build, providing the microscope with room to maneuver around the dirty mech. "Hold still." He instructs, switching on the showerheads.
Sludge's shoulders rock, in minutes the running water beginning to loosen the stubborn patches of mud.
While waiting for the water to work free most of the thick residue, Perceptor is quick to wash and douse himself under an entire bottle of cleaning solution, sighing in relief as the mud begins to slide off his frame, revealing the azure and ruby plating. To be clean again without that horrible mud tickling and scraping everywhere!
He notices that Sludge is continuing to shift under the water in obvious discomfort, he asks, "What's wrong?"
"...Sludge can't reach..." His hands struggle to reach around and scratch at the mud sluggishly trailing down the center of his back.
"Here." Perceptor motions for Sludge to step out from under the running water and crouch down so that the smaller mech can easily reach all of the caked material. The microscope reaches for another bottle of cleaning solution, emptying its contents over the Dinobot, while preventing the fluid from pouring over Sludge's optics and irritate the sensitive wiring lining the edges of his optical screens.
Next Perceptor takes a large sponge - colossal by human standards - soaking it under the water, and patiently slides and scrapes, steadily producing thicker and thicker patches of white lather, several areas turning gray and muddy brown when encountering massive patches of dirt.
Perceptor is pleased that, after quite a bit of time and effort, he's managed to work the sponge and lather all over. "There! Now all we have to do is get this washed off."
Before he can prompt the mech to stand back up and step forward under the showerheads, Sludge takes matters into his own hands.
Once realizing that Perceptor is done, Sludge furiously shakes his massive bulk, like a large dog shaking its coat to relieve itself of fleas.
All four walls and deepest corners are splattered by mud and cleaning solution.
Perceptor's optics blink in surprise and stalled alarm as his entire front is similarly painted.
And after he'd finished cleaning right before Sludge!
"Sludge!!"
"Sorry!"
Snarl/ Perceptor/ prey
Sequel to 'Bath'
"Don't know why we have to run another surveillance sweep."
"Skywarp: Silence Output."
"Come on." The Seeker hisses at the Communication officer. "There's been no activity around the Ark's perimeter. Why do we have to do reconnaissance when we know nothing's happening."
"Because Megatron told us." Thundercracker reminds his wing mate, speaking exaggeratedly like he would to a slow sparkling.
"What a waste of time." Starscream mutters.
The four mechs are crouched behind an outcropping that provides sufficient cover, and where they know that Red Alert's security cameras are not precisely aimed.
"Why can't Laserbeak do this!" Skywarp insists.
"Laserbeak: Damaged During Last Battle. Undergoing Final Repairs."
Whack.
"Ow!"
"Stop sniveling." Starscream lowers his hand. "And pay attention."
"But there's nothing--"
"Look!" Thundercracker interrupts, instinctively ducking further down behind the outcropping shielding their position.
The Decepticons peer in the direction that Thundercracker indicates. Making out a lone mech casually strolling towards a sheltered ravine overflowing with various flora.
"What's the big deal?" Skywarp mutters, glaring at Starscream indignantly while rubbing at his aching helm. "It's just that scientist."
"What's he doing all the way out here?" Starscream wonders aloud.
"Shh! Shh!" Thundercracker hushes.
Soundwave peers at the blue Seeker, curious at his fierce shushing motions. "Autobot Will Not Detect Us. We Are Too Far Outside His Sensors."
"That doesn't mean he won't hear them clucking at each other like organic hens."
"Hey!" The two squabbling Seekers huff in unison.
Soundwave ignores the Seekers bickering around him, visor focused on the scientist as he comes to a halt near the flora. Based on the specimen sample jars that the mech begins pulling from a sub compartment, the red and azure's intentions are soon obvious. "Perceptor: Merely Acquiring Floral Specimens. Of No Interest, And No Threat."
"Great." Starscream mutters, falling to sit on his aft, arms crossing sullenly across his lap. "He'll be at it forever, then."
"You were a scientist, too, before the War." Skywarp reminds him.
"There wasn't a personal need for me to stop and peer at every shiny rock or every single floral or fauna that inhabit a single dirtball of a planet!" Starscream fires right back.
"Boy, you're grouchy." Skywarp glares at him. "Do you need more iron in your diet?"
Thundercracker intervenes before Starscream attempts to strangle his wing mate. THAT would certainly draw the Autobot's attention.
In the distance, in the middle of cataloguing and sealing another specimen in a second capsule, Perceptor is suddenly on his feet, looking over his shoulder in the direction from which he'd appeared.
"Someone Is Coming." Soundwave warns.
It is much to the Decepticons surprise when the scientist, once catching sight of the mech steadily approaching his position, ducks into the thick cover of the floral-choked ravine. Attempting to hide from the second mech.
"Odd." Starscream adds his assessment. "Hiding from another Autobot. Why?"
"Behavior: Unusual."
"Hey. Isn't that one of the Dinobots?"
Coming within their optical range, is in fact the Dinobot designated as Snarl. In his alternator form, Snarl walks purposefully in a straight line, head lowered, olfactory nodules nearly pressed flat to the dirt as he snuffles a slow track in Perceptor's direction, metal tail wagging left and right in a steady pitch.
"Is he tracking the scientist?"
"Obviously, you slagbrain."
"Hey!"
"He's closed in."
Snarl's nose bumps into the abandoned sample capsules, and he snorts in surprise at the sudden appearance of the instruments. Lifting his horned head higher, the mech sniffs at the air, before transforming into his bipedal form.
"Snarl found you!" The Dinobot dives into the thick vegetation, causing the thick shelter to shake around the brutal invasion.
The scientist yelps as he's snagged and captured, dragged out of his safe haven and into the light. "Snarl!" The microscope whines. "I told you that I'm a bit busy!"
"Perceptor always busy!" Snarl is clearly not happy at the scientist's answer, as well as his lack of a valid answer for hiding from the Dinobot. "Wheeljack gave energon treats to Dinobots. Perceptor come back to Ark and share with us!"
"But I'm busy!"
"Perceptor come!"
"I still have to take samples - Wait, what are you do - Snarl!!"
Not happy that the scientist refuses to submit, Snarl bends down and throws the scientist over his shoulder like a large sack of potatoes. "Perceptor not good at listening." Snarl is quick to admonish. "Perceptor come back another time to play with plants."
"I'm not playing! And put me down right this instant!" Perceptor beats helplessly at Snarl's back as he's effortlessly lugged by the giant. He gazes forlornly in the direction of his abandoned equipment.
The Decepticons observe in stunned silence as the microscope is carried off in the direction of the Ark, scarcely making out a final plea from the scientist, "Snarl, I really must insist that you put me down!..."
"...Well." Skywarp is the first to attempt to speak as the two mechs disappear from sight. "Guess that's one way to get a mech to listen."
Soundwave does not add input, but is privately relieved that he does not have to worry about a similar prospect with his young and much smaller creations.
The Transformers G1 Random Pairing Generator
Grimlock / Prowl / regret
(Pure smut version!!)
Prowl regrets ever giving Grimlock the pass code to his rooms.
"I have to meet with Prime in ten minutes." He gasps, fingers sinking between the plating atop the mech's shoulders.
Grimlock ignores Prowl's stubborn reminders, hands remaining firmly upon the tactician's aft, rocking the mech further and higher against the plating of a thick thigh.
Prowl's optics dim from one moment to the next, shuttering around the stabbing pleasure, straddling the Dinobot leader's thigh. With every induced thrusting motion, his lips kiss the plating over the mech's Spark chamber.
"We really shouldn't be doing this right now."
"Less time Prowl complain, more time spent enjoying each other." Grimlock nips at the thick energon cable flowing under a section of Prowl's throat, teasing the Dinobot with an occasional glimpse.
A feeble whimper manages to escape, and Prowl hangs on tight as Grimlock lifts him up higher, pressing his back against the wall beside his recharge berth. At this angle, Grimlock's thigh manages to drag along an access port just right.
With a low rumbling snarl of anticipation and frustrated pleasure, Prowl's fingers grip the back of the mech's head, jerking Grimlock's lips away from his throat, pulling the larger mech back far enough to growl, "You better make it worth my time, then."
Grimlock - battle mask unclasped and plates withdrawing into hidden chambered - shares a wicked grin of pleasure, sharp fangs the envy of any large voracious predator. He bends down, melding their lips together, echoing the tactician's gratified purr.
The Transformers G1 Random Pairing Generator
Megatron / Perceptor / prize
Sequel to 'Like an open book'
"Do you honestly believe that you can outrun or hide from me?"
Perceptor ducks behind a crumbled barrier, vents heaving from exertion. He shivers, daring to peek over his shoulder around his temporary shelter.
The tyrant's voice echoes down the hollowed out corridor of the building he's taking refuge in.
'Bastard!' Perceptor finds it fitting to curse the Decepticon. 'He's toying with me... Like he's done every time he wants to play.'
How could Perceptor had known that Megatron found pleasure in releasing him, teasing the mech with one opportunity after another to escape the tyrant's clutches...only to capture and drag the microscope back, regardless of how he screamed and begged to be set free.
Once more, the hunt was on. And with no weapon and lacking the proper experience to hold any physical threat against the much larger and stronger mech, the only means he could use was to try and run far enough and fast enough to escape.
The microscope refused to rise to the mech's verbal baiting. He hunkers down, slowly, quietly moving towards another adjacent room and connecting corridor.
Laughter trickles around him, causing a cold shiver to race up his spine.
"Or are you teasing me by continuing to run and hide?"
'Just leave me alone!'
"No matter how far or how hard you run, I will always follow."
"...leave me alone..." Perceptor can't halt the painful whisper.
"You already know how this game will end."
'No!' No matter how many times he's failed to run far enough, or manage to escape the tyrant, he refuses to surrender. He has to continue on and keep resisting.
The thought of giving in to that...that monster.
The thought of enduring his touch yet again...
"As a result, I will always seize my prize."
A dreading, creeping, crawling sense of ice running down his dermal plating. He doesn't need to turn around to see the shadowed form stepping forward from the microscope's blind spot.
His shoulders slump. Again, he is defeated. And again, he is forced to submit under the hands already skimming over his shoulders and collarbone struts.
"Why don't you end this game and finish me?" Perceptor whispers, shuddering as the warm heavy bulk presses against his back.
Megatron curls both arms around the slender mech, trapping the microscope as a spider would a fly. "Because you're my prize." He whispers against the soft metal flesh of Perceptor's mandible. "And I won't let go because I am such a possessive mech."
The Transformers G1 Random Pairing Generator
Inferno/ Red Alert / mistake
(Smut!)
Red Alert thinks nothing of Inferno's appearance at the door of his rooms.
"Yes?" He asks, staring up at his larger friend.
He backs up, slightly startled by the hand pressed to his shoulder and carefully nudging him deeper into his room.
The door slides shut behind Inferno's back, and Red Alert can't help but feel trapped at hearing the loud clang of the metal barrier sliding closed.
"Red..." Inferno isn't able to find the right words.
"What is it?" Red Alert is thrown by the normally exuberant mech standing so quietly in front of him. "Inferno?"
"Promise not to hate me, Red?"
Red Alert frowns. "Inferno?" He repeats. "Please tell me what's wrong."
"I'm..." The larger mech shuffles his feet, optics turning in all other directions except Red Alert's. "I'm...I'm sorry!"
Red Alert planned for several events or admissions to occur following the fire truck's abrupt need to apologize for some unnamed injury or crime.
The Security Director did not expect to be literally swept off his feet, enwrapped with the solid warmth of Inferno's arms, head tilted back as the larger mech seals their mouths together.
Red Alert is reasonably startled by this attack, hands trapped and fisted against Inferno's chest. He swoons helplessly, unused to such manhandling. Primus, when was there a time that any mech or femme held him close and tight?
"MMmmph." The backs of his knees smack the edge of the recharge berth, and he clings to Inferno as they both suddenly begin to fall backwards.
With far more precision and grace than Red Alert could possibly dredge while his CPU's systems erratic from the sudden attack, his responses muddled, Inferno twists around and pillows Red Alert's fall, sprawling over the fire truck's front.
He whimpers, shifting restlessly under the sure hands sliding down a trembling back, along the seams of his hip joints and sensitive plating atop his thighs. Not once during the entire clash or fall do their lips or glossa separate, initiating a private dance, intertwining and stealing Red Alert's senses like an illegal drug.
Hands fumble, hindering separate goals. While Inferno's hands struggle between mapping the territory of his body and coaxing the latch over his access port free, Red Alert curses silently as he struggles to keep steady and tug free Inferno's interface cable.
Finally lips separate with a loud pop, Inferno's vents working overtime to attempt to cool him down. "Let me.." He coaxes his partner to relax and allow him to help.
Red Alert diligently follows his coaxing, laying hands trustingly on top of Inferno's shoulders.
The connection is gentle - so sweet too sweet that it bites and burns, so painful, it burns like acid - and Inferno must catch him as he jerks forward, crying out at the first wave of electricity fields and flooding data.
"Red!" Inferno guides him, gripping the red handholds of the Security Director's hips. "Steady.." The fire truck is biting his bottom lip so hard, Red Alert knows that beads of energon threaten to break the soft metal flesh.
"Please!" Red Alert can do nothing but rock helplessly beneath the mech's firm grip, riding the pleasure as best he could and is physically able.
Inferno grits his teeth, forcing his optics to pitch into darkness, knowing that merely watching the way Red Alert is riding him will send him into an overload far too early.
Sadly, it can't last forever. Both mechs are too wound up, too needy. Red Alert is helpless but to fall headlong into the heart of the onrushing tempest, feeling as if he is dying...as if he is being reborn during this long endless swell of pleasurable agony.
Inferno's arms catch him as he slumps bonelessly across the larger mech's front, the fire truck holding him tight, whispering words of adoration and praise - stuttering at the end of his sentence as he too falls victim - overload washing over and drowning the larger mech. Inferno is another willing victim...and he refuses to let go of his partner no matter the ferocity and consuming powerful overload.
Their vents cycle more blessed cool air, chests rising and following in tempo. Red Alert's lips press against the warm plating, face relaxed in bliss.
Inferno pants raggedly, helm falling back limp against the head of the berth.
"...This was a mistake."
The fire truck would rear up if he weren't weighed down by Red Alert, blue optics expanded wide. He is dragged from his lull, and feels a deep stab of hurt, at the Security Director's words. "W-What."
Red Alert buries his forehead against Inferno's shoulder, shifting as much as he is able since their forms are still intimately connected. "...Happened too fast. Next time we'll have to do better." A yawn captures the mech, and he snuggles deeper into the fire truck's arms. "Too tired now. We'll try again later." Inferno's audio receptors listen to Red Alert's continued muttering as the mech falls into deep recharge.
Inferno embraces Red Alert as close as he is physically able, limbs tangled with the mech his holds so dear. A beatific smile graces the fire truck's lips, and he rolls onto his side, tucking Red Alert between him and the berth-side wall, dropping a soft brushing kiss against the Security Director's forehead.
'Next time.' He shivers at his partner's promise.
Yeah. Next time.
As long as they had forever, then why not?
