FIC: Irresistible, Scourge/various, Sweeps/various, PG-13
Title: Irresistible
Continuity: Transformers G1 Season 3
Pairings: Scourge/various, Sweeps/various
Rating: PG-13 for sexual harassment and non-explicit dub-con
Summary: Scourge has a very strange day. Written yesterday for the crimson_optics Comment Fic Party. Prompt was: "Sweeps - impersonating Scourge - For whatever reason, and aimed at whoever ;)"
Being hauled into Cyclonus' berth was normal. Today, he only wanted a quick wing-snuggle, and was called away before he could get frisky, leaving Scourge half disappointed, half relieved.
When Scourge left Cyclonus' quarters, things started to get weird. He really, really wasn't expecting Soundwave to push him firmly against a wall and start groping his wings; but he knew better than to resist. Soundwave clearly knew what he was doing; he was running hot and petting Soundwave's cannon encouragingly by the time Soundwave backed off, gave him a blank (as usual) look, and walked off.
That was strange. But Soundwave was always strange. Scourge shook his wings out and walked down the hall.
He didn't manage three steps before he encountered Onslaught. This normally would not have been a problem. Onslaught was sane and sensible and politely respected Scourge's higher rank as long as Scourge never attempted to actually assert his authority over him.
But not today. "Scourge!" Onslaught said, and it looked almost as though he was smiling under his mask. Spooky. Scourge backed away nervously, forgetting about the whole authority thing. "Good to see you again."
"Ah--yes--" Scourge said, and tried to remember when he'd seen Onslaught lately. And then tried to figure out what he was doing against a wall again, and what amazing things Onslaught was doing with his hands.
But--this was Onslaught, which probably meant there was some Plot involved. Scourge slipped sideways out of Onslaught's grip. "Ah--I've got to go! Important mission for Galvatron!" And he was gone. Running away was one of his strong points.
Runabout and Runamuck were relatively harmless, so Scourge allowed them to corner him for a tryst in a storage closet. Ramjet he shot on sight, and then ducked and ran; he wasn't going to risk that for any sort of interface. Vortex might just have been being Vortex, but Scourge had Had. Enough.
"SWEEPS!" he yelled. They didn't respond.
He cautiously opened the link between them--something he didn't usually do. The Sweeps got hurt a lot, and Scourge didn't like pain.
This time, he was bombarded with pleasure. They were, apparently, still at it. All of them. "Cut that out!" he ordered, but they paid about as much attention to him as they ever did: none.
Scourge sighed and hauled himself into a closet, barricading the door and riding the waves of his Sweeps' overloads. At least he could have some fun with this, too.
Continuity: Transformers G1 Season 3
Pairings: Scourge/various, Sweeps/various
Rating: PG-13 for sexual harassment and non-explicit dub-con
Summary: Scourge has a very strange day. Written yesterday for the crimson_optics Comment Fic Party. Prompt was: "Sweeps - impersonating Scourge - For whatever reason, and aimed at whoever ;)"
Being hauled into Cyclonus' berth was normal. Today, he only wanted a quick wing-snuggle, and was called away before he could get frisky, leaving Scourge half disappointed, half relieved.
When Scourge left Cyclonus' quarters, things started to get weird. He really, really wasn't expecting Soundwave to push him firmly against a wall and start groping his wings; but he knew better than to resist. Soundwave clearly knew what he was doing; he was running hot and petting Soundwave's cannon encouragingly by the time Soundwave backed off, gave him a blank (as usual) look, and walked off.
That was strange. But Soundwave was always strange. Scourge shook his wings out and walked down the hall.
He didn't manage three steps before he encountered Onslaught. This normally would not have been a problem. Onslaught was sane and sensible and politely respected Scourge's higher rank as long as Scourge never attempted to actually assert his authority over him.
But not today. "Scourge!" Onslaught said, and it looked almost as though he was smiling under his mask. Spooky. Scourge backed away nervously, forgetting about the whole authority thing. "Good to see you again."
"Ah--yes--" Scourge said, and tried to remember when he'd seen Onslaught lately. And then tried to figure out what he was doing against a wall again, and what amazing things Onslaught was doing with his hands.
But--this was Onslaught, which probably meant there was some Plot involved. Scourge slipped sideways out of Onslaught's grip. "Ah--I've got to go! Important mission for Galvatron!" And he was gone. Running away was one of his strong points.
Runabout and Runamuck were relatively harmless, so Scourge allowed them to corner him for a tryst in a storage closet. Ramjet he shot on sight, and then ducked and ran; he wasn't going to risk that for any sort of interface. Vortex might just have been being Vortex, but Scourge had Had. Enough.
"SWEEPS!" he yelled. They didn't respond.
He cautiously opened the link between them--something he didn't usually do. The Sweeps got hurt a lot, and Scourge didn't like pain.
This time, he was bombarded with pleasure. They were, apparently, still at it. All of them. "Cut that out!" he ordered, but they paid about as much attention to him as they ever did: none.
Scourge sighed and hauled himself into a closet, barricading the door and riding the waves of his Sweeps' overloads. At least he could have some fun with this, too.