Second Wave Drabbles
Another three makes the last of the prompts i was given when doing one per person.
I'ma post all six on my FF.net account right after this too.
THIS IS ALL SMUT NOW LOL. got in the mood ffffffff XD
might do another bonus fan-drabble of someone elses series too.
The last Drabble is already that lol.
again not spell checked or even really reviewed, just spat these out, take em as they are.
Somehow they're all Prowl-centric. which is awesome 8D
Learnt to do Bold and italics though, go me. Im such a fag.
Shutup i made a chocolate tart yesterday that would make you an hero with it's tasty awesomeness.
G1 Prowl x Bee regretfuldragon
Bumblebee gasped and vented long and deep as he rocked against the berth under the white and black frame. His small black servos stroked lovingly over the white helm, cherishing and intimately detailing the brilliant red chevron that dipped to accommodate his reach, it’s owner running tender kisses over his helm and horns.
Bumblebee hitched his legs up further, letting out a soft, blissful mewl as Prowl plunged deeper into him with slow, powerful strokes, lighting up his sensor net as he filled his valve. It was so intense, so heady, Bumblebee lost himself in Prowl and likewise the tactician drank In the yellow spy’s cries of delight, loving utterly the way he moved beneath him, their plating scraping as their ecstasy built.
They didn’t need words anymore. They needed sensations, they needed the thrum of the other’s life force, and as Prowl hilted himself in the minibot and connected to him, their chest plates parted in synchrony, both gasping and clutching at one another.
Eagerly they pressed close, the tactician careful not to settle his entire weight on his partner as they closed the distance between their sparks.
Their essences reached out to one another, and even as they came together so keenly in body, their sparks seemed to connect almost tentatively, gently, melting slowly and wonderfully into one another as if to savour the motion entirely.
The two mechs moaned and cycled quick vents against the others plating as pure, indescribably pleasure came from the completeness of the bond.
Oh, no mech on the Ark would believe this was true, probably not even if they witnessed it first hand, but Bumblebee felt nothing but pure devotion to Prowl, a feeling echoed mutual through their merged cores. Both had sides that no one else saw, had hurts no one else could heal, and nothing had even fulfilled them like this.
Even as overload exploded through their joined frames and sparks, they clung to one another as though they never wanted to let go, each the salvation of the other, almost loving that this was their secret…. Their own private saving grace. They didn’t care if no one knew, or understood, or would ever. Nothing mattered except that they could remain like this. A better idea of their future, neither could imagine.
TFA Prowl x Optimus wicked3659
Prowl wished he cared more about what he was doing. By all rights, with his circuit-su training he should have more self-control, but…
He didn’t want to control this. He didn’t want to think anymore, thinking wasn’t getting him anywhere, he wanted to feel again, he had felt so alone, and so cold, wandering space with no purpose, no real idea of where he was going or what he’d do once there. Just that… endless and unobtainable goal to find his spark.
Well, his spark didn’t seem to be objecting too much to what his body wanted and was getting right now.
It would bother him more that he was being lavished with attention by a mech he’d barely met, but something in the commander had struck a chord with him. This Optimus Prime… a title that was merely a nod to the completion of his training, but a bot with ghosts and grief who wasn’t at all where he should be. Yes… Prowl could definitely sympathise. He could sympathise so well that he was currently digging his fingers under Optimus Prime’s plating, eliciting a gasp and a shuddering moan from the larger, powerful mech.
Prowl allowed a mewl to escape his own vocaliser in turn as the not-quite-Prime delved his spike gently deeper into the ninja-bot’s long untouched port.
Prowl felt himself constrict deliciously around the other mech and he bit down gingerly on the plating of Optimus’ shoulder, his body quivering from the hips as delicious and long forgotten sensations of ecstasy thrilled through his systems.
He knew it was merely a carnal pleasure, but he had to admit, as Optimus ‘faced him with obviously experienced skill and tenderness, he would gladly pay the penance of a hundred cycles of meditation to clear his mind to experience this again.
Wicked’verse- ( wicked3659 ) ‘The Word’ Prowl x Jazz zomgitsalaura
Jazz was bored. Supremely bored. And tempted. Oh so tempted. It was a dangerous mix. But only for one mech in particular.
Prowl was addressing the humans on the other side of the video conference.
There were only 5 mechs in the meeting room. Optimus, Prowl, Jazz, Ratchet and Ironhide. Jazz figured he’d get away with it.
Prowl was having what Jazz was sure was an intensely interesting conversation about field stratergies with several army generals, who miraculously seemed as engaged by the subject as the black and white door-winger.
Smirking to himself, Jazz decided it was time to test something out that he’d been curious about for a while.
He discreetly extended a link up cable from his wrist and connected into a port in the table console that connected wirelessly to their internal note making and textual information sharing. It was easier to scroll each other messages via their intra-net connected data-pads and consoles while speaking aloud with the humans, that way they could run several discussions and topics and ideas at once without interrupting the human’s side of the meeting. Cybertronians could multi-task much more efficiently than the organics.
Whether they actually did so in an efficient manner was a matter Prowl would attest to as being a major problem. More often than not, the side conversations texting across their data pads had nothing to do with agenda items and involved more idle chit-chat and running commentary than anything. Nevertheless, Prowl watched the silent conversation of his comrades out of the corner of his optics even as he spoke to Major Herssey about the most efficient means to organise a counter strike in the event of a Decepticon attack upon the larger power stations in Europe.
Prowl’s attention flickered to the text window of his data-pad as he noted Jazz had entered the silent conversation at last. He had expected the saboteur to be quipping things throughout the meeting, but up ‘till now he’d been silent. Therefore, he read curiously the Porsche’s silence breaking comment.
:Hey Prowler, that plan of yours sounds pretty sweet.:
The humans gave Prowl a curious look through the vid-feed as his vocaliser faltered and a strong shudder ran through his frame.
Ratchet spared the tactician a curious look, but the other mechs in the room seemed not to have noticed, apparently having tuned out the SIC breems ago to the point they didn’t notice him falter.
Jazz, on the other servo, grinned wickedly.
Apparently the trigger worked just as well when Prowl read it as when he heard it.
Jazz quickly schooled his faceplates into blank but polite interest as prowl reset his vocaliser and threw him a filthy look.
The moment Prowl turned back, Jazz allowed his face to break back into it’s wicked grin.
He realised Ratchet had caught his expression. The Medic didn’t send him a text reply as comprehension dawned on the red and white’s face, but Jazz could tell from the look in the CMO’s optics that he was not going to discourage his behaviour.
Jazz posted one or two more comments with the trigger word hidden in them, but Prowl, door-wings held high and stiff, refused pointedly to look at his data-pad anymore.
Jazz bit his bottom lip, smile only getting bigger and visor a deeper blue. The saboteur easily hacked the vid-screen which displayed information transmitted fro the humans to them about their battle plans.
A new piece of data was streamed across the screen, and Prowl’s optics automatically darted to it to super-speed absorb the new data-packet. He had a microchip to frown before the message was processed…
:The way the humans include the contingency plan for possible injuries to us and how to get us to safety is kinda sweet.:
Prowl gasped and made an ungainly static-laced chocking noise as he staggered very slightly back into the table. He grasped it hard, door-wings quivering violently. His cooling fans gave a loud whirr before settling to a quieter pace as his systems reset.
Not only were the humans now looking at him utterly bewildered, this being the second time his dryly delivered tactics had been interrupted mid-sentence, but other mechs in the room had noticed this time.
Ironhide was giving Prowl a look like he’d just said something about planting flowers around the Ark, Optimus gave him a curious, if not slightly concerned look. Ratchet had an evil grin to match Jazz’s, enjoying the diversion quite as much as the saboteur was.
Prowl mumbled a small apology to the humans as he straightened, wings twitching and arching high in a ‘V’ as he turned his back on the screen and glared at Jazz, lips pressed tight together.
Jazz gave him an innocent smile and canted his head slightly to the side as though enquiring what the problem was.
Prowl’s optics had gone dark and he was obviously struggling to keep his frame from quivering and fans from kicking on full-bore.
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to convene our conference sirs, it would seem I have some personal matters to deal with. I will get back to you soon to arrange an appropriate meeting in the near future.” Prowl said curtly, turning to collect his data-pads, giving Optimus a very brief formal salute to ask permission to leave, which the Prime granted him with a look of deepening concern in his optics (he hadn’t seen Jazz’s messages).
The humans had given him curious looks and nods, and Prowl turned on his heel, leaving with a ram-rod straight back-strut.
Just as he reached the door and palmed it open, Jazz looked over his shoulder and called. “We’ll miss ya sweet-spark.”
There was a clatter of falling data pads as Prowl tripped out the door with a loud cry, crashing to the floor while Jazz and Ratchet sniggered heartily at the poor mech’s expense.
I'ma post all six on my FF.net account right after this too.
THIS IS ALL SMUT NOW LOL. got in the mood ffffffff XD
might do another bonus fan-drabble of someone elses series too.
The last Drabble is already that lol.
again not spell checked or even really reviewed, just spat these out, take em as they are.
Somehow they're all Prowl-centric. which is awesome 8D
Learnt to do Bold and italics though, go me. Im such a fag.
Shutup i made a chocolate tart yesterday that would make you an hero with it's tasty awesomeness.
G1 Prowl x Bee regretfuldragon
Bumblebee gasped and vented long and deep as he rocked against the berth under the white and black frame. His small black servos stroked lovingly over the white helm, cherishing and intimately detailing the brilliant red chevron that dipped to accommodate his reach, it’s owner running tender kisses over his helm and horns.
Bumblebee hitched his legs up further, letting out a soft, blissful mewl as Prowl plunged deeper into him with slow, powerful strokes, lighting up his sensor net as he filled his valve. It was so intense, so heady, Bumblebee lost himself in Prowl and likewise the tactician drank In the yellow spy’s cries of delight, loving utterly the way he moved beneath him, their plating scraping as their ecstasy built.
They didn’t need words anymore. They needed sensations, they needed the thrum of the other’s life force, and as Prowl hilted himself in the minibot and connected to him, their chest plates parted in synchrony, both gasping and clutching at one another.
Eagerly they pressed close, the tactician careful not to settle his entire weight on his partner as they closed the distance between their sparks.
Their essences reached out to one another, and even as they came together so keenly in body, their sparks seemed to connect almost tentatively, gently, melting slowly and wonderfully into one another as if to savour the motion entirely.
The two mechs moaned and cycled quick vents against the others plating as pure, indescribably pleasure came from the completeness of the bond.
Oh, no mech on the Ark would believe this was true, probably not even if they witnessed it first hand, but Bumblebee felt nothing but pure devotion to Prowl, a feeling echoed mutual through their merged cores. Both had sides that no one else saw, had hurts no one else could heal, and nothing had even fulfilled them like this.
Even as overload exploded through their joined frames and sparks, they clung to one another as though they never wanted to let go, each the salvation of the other, almost loving that this was their secret…. Their own private saving grace. They didn’t care if no one knew, or understood, or would ever. Nothing mattered except that they could remain like this. A better idea of their future, neither could imagine.
TFA Prowl x Optimus wicked3659
Prowl wished he cared more about what he was doing. By all rights, with his circuit-su training he should have more self-control, but…
He didn’t want to control this. He didn’t want to think anymore, thinking wasn’t getting him anywhere, he wanted to feel again, he had felt so alone, and so cold, wandering space with no purpose, no real idea of where he was going or what he’d do once there. Just that… endless and unobtainable goal to find his spark.
Well, his spark didn’t seem to be objecting too much to what his body wanted and was getting right now.
It would bother him more that he was being lavished with attention by a mech he’d barely met, but something in the commander had struck a chord with him. This Optimus Prime… a title that was merely a nod to the completion of his training, but a bot with ghosts and grief who wasn’t at all where he should be. Yes… Prowl could definitely sympathise. He could sympathise so well that he was currently digging his fingers under Optimus Prime’s plating, eliciting a gasp and a shuddering moan from the larger, powerful mech.
Prowl allowed a mewl to escape his own vocaliser in turn as the not-quite-Prime delved his spike gently deeper into the ninja-bot’s long untouched port.
Prowl felt himself constrict deliciously around the other mech and he bit down gingerly on the plating of Optimus’ shoulder, his body quivering from the hips as delicious and long forgotten sensations of ecstasy thrilled through his systems.
He knew it was merely a carnal pleasure, but he had to admit, as Optimus ‘faced him with obviously experienced skill and tenderness, he would gladly pay the penance of a hundred cycles of meditation to clear his mind to experience this again.
Wicked’verse- ( wicked3659 ) ‘The Word’ Prowl x Jazz zomgitsalaura
Jazz was bored. Supremely bored. And tempted. Oh so tempted. It was a dangerous mix. But only for one mech in particular.
Prowl was addressing the humans on the other side of the video conference.
There were only 5 mechs in the meeting room. Optimus, Prowl, Jazz, Ratchet and Ironhide. Jazz figured he’d get away with it.
Prowl was having what Jazz was sure was an intensely interesting conversation about field stratergies with several army generals, who miraculously seemed as engaged by the subject as the black and white door-winger.
Smirking to himself, Jazz decided it was time to test something out that he’d been curious about for a while.
He discreetly extended a link up cable from his wrist and connected into a port in the table console that connected wirelessly to their internal note making and textual information sharing. It was easier to scroll each other messages via their intra-net connected data-pads and consoles while speaking aloud with the humans, that way they could run several discussions and topics and ideas at once without interrupting the human’s side of the meeting. Cybertronians could multi-task much more efficiently than the organics.
Whether they actually did so in an efficient manner was a matter Prowl would attest to as being a major problem. More often than not, the side conversations texting across their data pads had nothing to do with agenda items and involved more idle chit-chat and running commentary than anything. Nevertheless, Prowl watched the silent conversation of his comrades out of the corner of his optics even as he spoke to Major Herssey about the most efficient means to organise a counter strike in the event of a Decepticon attack upon the larger power stations in Europe.
Prowl’s attention flickered to the text window of his data-pad as he noted Jazz had entered the silent conversation at last. He had expected the saboteur to be quipping things throughout the meeting, but up ‘till now he’d been silent. Therefore, he read curiously the Porsche’s silence breaking comment.
:Hey Prowler, that plan of yours sounds pretty sweet.:
The humans gave Prowl a curious look through the vid-feed as his vocaliser faltered and a strong shudder ran through his frame.
Ratchet spared the tactician a curious look, but the other mechs in the room seemed not to have noticed, apparently having tuned out the SIC breems ago to the point they didn’t notice him falter.
Jazz, on the other servo, grinned wickedly.
Apparently the trigger worked just as well when Prowl read it as when he heard it.
Jazz quickly schooled his faceplates into blank but polite interest as prowl reset his vocaliser and threw him a filthy look.
The moment Prowl turned back, Jazz allowed his face to break back into it’s wicked grin.
He realised Ratchet had caught his expression. The Medic didn’t send him a text reply as comprehension dawned on the red and white’s face, but Jazz could tell from the look in the CMO’s optics that he was not going to discourage his behaviour.
Jazz posted one or two more comments with the trigger word hidden in them, but Prowl, door-wings held high and stiff, refused pointedly to look at his data-pad anymore.
Jazz bit his bottom lip, smile only getting bigger and visor a deeper blue. The saboteur easily hacked the vid-screen which displayed information transmitted fro the humans to them about their battle plans.
A new piece of data was streamed across the screen, and Prowl’s optics automatically darted to it to super-speed absorb the new data-packet. He had a microchip to frown before the message was processed…
:The way the humans include the contingency plan for possible injuries to us and how to get us to safety is kinda sweet.:
Prowl gasped and made an ungainly static-laced chocking noise as he staggered very slightly back into the table. He grasped it hard, door-wings quivering violently. His cooling fans gave a loud whirr before settling to a quieter pace as his systems reset.
Not only were the humans now looking at him utterly bewildered, this being the second time his dryly delivered tactics had been interrupted mid-sentence, but other mechs in the room had noticed this time.
Ironhide was giving Prowl a look like he’d just said something about planting flowers around the Ark, Optimus gave him a curious, if not slightly concerned look. Ratchet had an evil grin to match Jazz’s, enjoying the diversion quite as much as the saboteur was.
Prowl mumbled a small apology to the humans as he straightened, wings twitching and arching high in a ‘V’ as he turned his back on the screen and glared at Jazz, lips pressed tight together.
Jazz gave him an innocent smile and canted his head slightly to the side as though enquiring what the problem was.
Prowl’s optics had gone dark and he was obviously struggling to keep his frame from quivering and fans from kicking on full-bore.
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to convene our conference sirs, it would seem I have some personal matters to deal with. I will get back to you soon to arrange an appropriate meeting in the near future.” Prowl said curtly, turning to collect his data-pads, giving Optimus a very brief formal salute to ask permission to leave, which the Prime granted him with a look of deepening concern in his optics (he hadn’t seen Jazz’s messages).
The humans had given him curious looks and nods, and Prowl turned on his heel, leaving with a ram-rod straight back-strut.
Just as he reached the door and palmed it open, Jazz looked over his shoulder and called. “We’ll miss ya sweet-spark.”
There was a clatter of falling data pads as Prowl tripped out the door with a loud cry, crashing to the floor while Jazz and Ratchet sniggered heartily at the poor mech’s expense.