FIC: Christmas Colours
Written for fuzipenguin in their request which you can see on Week 4 of the WOI here.
Title: Christmas Colours.
Rating: M
Verse: G1
Warnings: Bondage, talk about sticky interfacing/innuendo
Characters:Twins/Ratch
Disclaimer: Hell no Transformers is NOT mine.
“Doesn’t he look so pretty Ratch?”
“Mmm, the festive colours bring out his shine.”
“Frag the both of you.”
“Oh Sunshine don’t be like that!”
“Get. These. Off. Now.”
“You just don’t like being teased the way that the both of you teased me.”
There was a low growl, before a red hand moved forward and wrapped a thick, long red ribbon around a black helm with helm fins, tying it and letting it slip between Sunstreaker’s denta, holding his jaw open slightly, unable to speak.
“Mmmpff!!”
A snicker. “Oh he looks even better. Don’t you agree baby?”
Ratchet surveyed the form of his golden bondmate with a gleam of satisfaction. Strings upon strings of merrily twinkling red and green Christmas lights had been wrapped around Sunstreaker’s wrists and ankles, holding him to the berth, with some spare lights draped alluringly over his neck and hips. The bright red ribbon gagging him finished him off, but not quite perfectly. Yet.
“I think we are missing a main colour,” Ratchet said softly, his usually crystal optics dark with lust.
Sideswipe leaned his helm on his shoulder and purred, “Oh? We’ve got gold, red, and green.”
With a slight smirk and looking smug, the medic replied, “Silver. We forgot silver. I think…he would be complete with the silver of our transfluid. Don’t you agree?”
Title: Christmas Colours.
Rating: M
Verse: G1
Warnings: Bondage, talk about sticky interfacing/innuendo
Characters:Twins/Ratch
Disclaimer: Hell no Transformers is NOT mine.
“Doesn’t he look so pretty Ratch?”
“Mmm, the festive colours bring out his shine.”
“Frag the both of you.”
“Oh Sunshine don’t be like that!”
“Get. These. Off. Now.”
“You just don’t like being teased the way that the both of you teased me.”
There was a low growl, before a red hand moved forward and wrapped a thick, long red ribbon around a black helm with helm fins, tying it and letting it slip between Sunstreaker’s denta, holding his jaw open slightly, unable to speak.
“Mmmpff!!”
A snicker. “Oh he looks even better. Don’t you agree baby?”
Ratchet surveyed the form of his golden bondmate with a gleam of satisfaction. Strings upon strings of merrily twinkling red and green Christmas lights had been wrapped around Sunstreaker’s wrists and ankles, holding him to the berth, with some spare lights draped alluringly over his neck and hips. The bright red ribbon gagging him finished him off, but not quite perfectly. Yet.
“I think we are missing a main colour,” Ratchet said softly, his usually crystal optics dark with lust.
Sideswipe leaned his helm on his shoulder and purred, “Oh? We’ve got gold, red, and green.”
With a slight smirk and looking smug, the medic replied, “Silver. We forgot silver. I think…he would be complete with the silver of our transfluid. Don’t you agree?”