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Could we mayhaps get an update on the Constructicons? It was just getting spicy, with the others impatient for a turn 🤭

Sure! 🔞 Mass displaced mechs 🌶️

Drive Pt 13

Constructicons x Reader

• Still wound up from the feel of Mixmaster’s mouth on you, squirming under Bonecrusher, you hang onto him as you come apart and he snarls, hips rolling urgently until he shudders against you and you feel his heat filling you. His lips brush your temple and cheek as he rests his helm against you, and the intimacy of it catches you off guard. Realizing this isn’t just sex to them. That this never was going to be as casual as that. Hear him venting on a low growl before reluctantly pulling out, his big hand cupping your cheek, a servo feathering against you. “Little mate,” he growls, the possessiveness in his voice making you shiver. And Scrapper and Hook growl at each other in their own language, Long Haul voicing his own opinion and backing down when they both snarl at him. Arguing over you? Scrapper approaches you, warm palm sliding over the outside of your thigh as his head tips to study you, but there’s no time to be self conscious about any of it.

• Staring at you, your eyes hooded and dark with arousal as you lay there, thighs slick with Bonecrusher’s release painting your skin, Scrapper wonders how much of his need is his own and how much is Bonecrusher’s influence. Loving you because Bonecrusher does and that vulnerable uncertainty in your eyes sinks into him, leashing the questions. It doesn’t matter if Bonecrusher put the thought into his processor, because it feels right. “You’re ours,” he growls, certainty threading the words. On some level it feels like he’d known you would be all along, and he’s cupping your cheek as he releases his spike and shifts over you. You claimed them, called them your mates and now they’re claiming you in return. Gave them something to unite over, a spot of warmth and acceptance when they’re not used to it. Jaw gritting as he stretches you slowly, he grips the edge of your berth, servos sinking into the soft mattress on top as he moves against you and you tremble under him. “We’re keeping you. Our little conjunx.” Hips pumping, he leans over you fascinated with the way you look lost in pleasure, gasping his name. “Eyes on me,” he growls, taking his time savoring the feel of you under him, those soft noises you make. “Don’t look away.” You’re so tight and wet around him, hands soft when you hang onto him and you move to meet his thrusts. Those trusting eyes staring up at him as he begins to move faster, beating you to the finish line and overloading inside you. Keeps thrusting before reluctantly pulling out when Mixmaster growls at him to hurry up.

• Glossa sliding over his denta remembering the taste of you, he flips you onto your belly and drives into your heat, hips pumping urgently. Rutting against you impatiently. Waited so long for this, for someone to make the first move. Hips snapping against you as you moan and squirm, his head falls back on a groan. Because it feels like you were made just for him, for them. Imagines shifting his plating, sparking you. Would you let him have that? Fill you and spark you? Scrapper already said it. Called you their conjunx. Getting rougher when he hears you whimper his name before you’re coming apart, fisting his spike and he groans when he releases inside you, shuddering as he leans over you to nuzzle your cheek. “Primus, you’re beautiful,” he snarls, groaning as he pulls out and nearly overloads again at his slick mingling with his brothers’s and trailing down your thighs, painting you in pink and blue.

• Snarling at Long Haul when the mech tries to go next, Hook flares his plating slightly in warning before shifting behind you and releasing his spike to pressurize. For a moment frozen as your head turns to look back at him, your breathing ragged and his brothers’s slick making a mess of you. Needing to add his own. Fill you until he has nothing left to give you. Groaning as he buries himself in you, he lazily rocks against you. Savoring the feel of you as you squirm, whimpering a protest that you’re too sensitive that makes him smile. “You’ve got two more mates to accept after me,” he whispers in your ear, feeling your thighs trembling against him. And he’s not going to be rushed, wants to enjoy the first time, the feel of you gripping his spike as you squirm under him. One of your legs sliding against the outside of his as you moan his name. “That’s right,” he growls, hips pumping. “You’re going to take all of us.” Multiple times if he has his way and you tremble under him on a soft cry, milking his spike until he overloads with a growl.

• You’re messy and slick with their excess, glowing rivulets running down your legs and dripping on the floor as Hook moves to let Long Haul replace him. Wants to make you even messier, to frag you until he overloads inside you and then to pump his spike until he releases on your skin, because you look obscene and amazing laying there panting and well fragged. “Look at you,” he snarls, driving deep to make you whimper. And he only manages a handful of hard thrusts, shuddering at the wet sound of his spike pounding inside you before he’s overloading hard. Far too quickly and he snarls as Scavenger drags him away and replaces him. “Wasn’t done.”

• “We can go another round,” Scavenger growls dismissively, his spike pressurizing as he spears into you and you whimper. ‘I can’t,’ you protest, thighs trembling as he moves inside you. And you’re so slick, so tight as he thrusts deep. “Just one more for me. Let me take care of you” he coaxes, hands gripping you as his hips snap against you. Engine snarling when his fans kick on and he knows he won’t last long this first time. Hears you moan his name as he ruts inside you. Wondering what it would feel like to press you against their spark as Devastator. To be tangled in you while they’re all combined and he’s overloading at the thought, grinding against you on a groan as he gives you everything. And you really are beautiful when he pulls out, slick with all of their releases as you pant raggedly. Their mate. Leaning to brush a kiss against your shoulder, he moves and watches Bonecrusher cover you again with a snarl. Almost laughing at your startled moan, like you didn’t realize this isn’t just a quick frag. Most likely, you’re not leaving that berth tonight except for them to feed you before they start over again. They’ve all been waiting for this long enough.

Previous

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Does the sparklings get a little playdate inside the Nemesis/Ark? Just bots and cons gathering their young. Would it be a peaceful playdate or a headache for their parents

Hahahaha peaceful…. Yeah, no… it’d be bad

Future Scenario- Play Date: Ark

Various G1 Bots x Reader

• Wincing as your daughter screams in Grimlock’s daughter’s face before running to hide with the Aerialbot’s son, you catch Skyfire’s optics and shrug at his frown. Figure they’re learning boundaries and they’re fine. Most of the toddlers are able to walk even if a few of them are as wobbly as newborn colts. And the volume in the rec room had gone through the roof within ten minutes of turning all the kids loose. Jazz’s kid had approached Cliffjumper’s and the two had chirped uncertainly, making the rest of them braver as their sire’s nudged them toward each other to play. You’d watched the biggest of Grimlock’s triplets transform to chase after Waspinator’s tiny son, who’s now latched onto his sire, chirping in terror. Head turning when you hear Prowl snarling at Streetwise to deal with his kid as his son shove’s Prowl’s, the two flaring their barely formed plating at each other before one kid shoves the other in the face and you make a mental note that Prowl’s kid is a biter as they start squabbling.

• Opening your arms as Waspinator deposits your son into your lap, his antenna flattened back just like his sire’s, you kiss him on top of the head. And stand to carry him back out into the fray before your overprotective mate can make your kid as skittish as he is. Ignoring Wasp’s protests and your son fisting your shirt with a whine, you head for where Trailbreaker’s twins are playing with stuffed animals with Hound, Cliffjumper, and Bumblebee’s kids. Because this looks more your son’s speed than play fighting even if you have to pry his tiny servos loose as he chirps in fear, hesitating when Trailbreaker’s daughter offers him a stuffed dog. Optics wide, he grabs it and presses his face against it, tiny wing nubs flicking as the other sparkling warbles, attention back on a stuffed tiger.

• “Pax!” You yell in warning and your son turns to grin at you, optics all mischief. And there he goes, not listening to you. How your kid came out a little demon after your own heart instead of calm and serious like Optimus, you have no idea. But he’s into everything and right now, he’s launching himself at another sparkling, the two of them shrieking and play fighting. Even though the kids are half human, they remind you more of puppies running wild, biting and climbing over each other. Hear someone scream and at least three other kids join in, though you’d bet they have no idea why they’re screaming, just not wanting to be left out.

• Watching your daughter babbling baby nonsense at Blaster’s son right before the kid pulls one of her tiny door wings to make her scream and sending Jazz wading into the chaos to separate them. Because both of them are screaming now, Blaster’s kid wailing and upset about losing his playmate as Jazz cradles your daughter to his chassis and Blaster heads his way, frowning. Trying to convince him to let her play with his son.

• They’re feral. Hands on your hips as your kid takes a toy away from Wheeljack’s and wobbles away with it while Red Alert’s kid points and chirps, apparently tattling. You slowly shake your head. Not really sure what you’d expected, but lord of the flies acted out by toddlers wasn’t it. Glancing at Ratchet as your mate tries to distract Wheeljack’s sobbing sparkling with a different toy, you decide watching the bots struggling almost makes the noise worth it. Because they don’t actually seem to mind the chaos, but then Ratchet had told you that none of them expected to be able to have sparklings, their race slowly dying out until arriving on Earth.

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i just love this pretty guy :(

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Lost Light Cat Shelter Issue #2: Rodimus

Pages 1-2

start next>>>

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Posting my bday gift for @bonnie-irahsaj with their permission

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Kenji when the Stealthy Predator showed up:

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who let rodimus have such a big bow

I’m absolutely obsessed with @madamadamiu ‘s lost light cat shelter au and swerve with his little bow, so i drew some of the others getting dressed up :> (or being forced to)

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So uh, remember how I said the Warlord Predator from Killer of Killers had me in a chokehold?

Yeah here’s a couple of more-rushed-than-I would-have-liked, experimental sketches of ✨Him✨

@symbioticyautja I have to thank you for encouraging me after I reblogged your edit of this guy 🤣

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a good sailor will always return to the sea

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(part 1 here if you missed it)

“Simon.”

He looks up from his breakfast, hair rumpled and eyes a little bloodshot. There’s a bit of panic in them, though, at your deathly serious voice which he basically never hears.

His stomach clenches with dread, forcibly swallowing down the bite of food that’s not nearly chewed enough, and straightening up in his chair.

You sigh. “Why don’t you want to marry me?”

He’s so tunnel-visioned in on losing you that he has to blink a couple of times, mentally shoving one issue away and wrenching something unexpected into its place.

“What—“

You cut him off with a rushing tide of anxiety. “If it was just needing to wait, then I would understand. I totally, totally get wanting to be sure, you know? But everyone thinks we’re married already, and that’s weird, Si. And you never let me pay for anything, and it’s starting to make me feel like you want to keep things separate, like you have one foot out the door already.”

Your chest heaves with the pent-up emotion of working these things over and over in your head for the last few days and coming up with no other logical answer.

He frowns in confusion. “You… want to marry me?”

You laugh at first, shocked and bitter, thinking he’s got to be kidding. But then his face smooths over into that unreadable, self preservation expression which you hate, and you realize he’s just an idiot. “Yes! Of course I do.”

He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms and looking like he’s not quite sure this conversation is really happening.

“FUCK!” You stand up and slam your palms on the table in frustration, then point at his tea. “Take a drink.”

At first you think he won’t. His eyes are tracking over your face, your aggressive posture, and then they finally drop to his mug. Simon obediently gulps a few swallows of tea, then sets it back down to have both arms free for self defense.

You step around the table, no matter that you’re quite unthreatening in your little PJs and no bra, and plant your hands on each of his shoulders.

“Simon. For fuck’s sake. Why are you telling everyone we’re married?”

Oh, god. You never see that. That ruddy flush blooming in the bottom of his cheeks? You never see that.

“Cause…” he swallows, his eyes flicking down to his tea you made for him, and then back to your face. He’s struggling, hard. “You are something like that, to me.”

You let out a relieved breath, sliding your hands up to his hot cheeks. “Okay. Then why haven’t you asked me to marry you, Si?”

“I’m sorry—“ he starts, but the crack in his voice makes him hide it by clearing his throat. “I’m sorry, if that’s something… you’ve been wanting, love. Didn’t think... you’d say yes to a… a bloody…” He trails off, unable to come up with the proper derogation.

“A bloody idiot,” you supply, sliding your ass onto his lap and looping your arms around his neck.

He blinks suspiciously fast, clearing his throat again and hooking his elbow around yours to drain the last of his tea.

“A bloody idiot,” you say a little softer, kissing his scarred cheek, “who makes me so happy that I can’t imagine loving anyone else like I love you. Of course I want to be your wife.”

"Mmm," he wraps his arms around you, almost painfully tight. "Say it again."

"I want to be your wife, you silly Englishman."

"Ahh," he nuzzles his face into your neck, mumbling against your skin, "didn't catch it. Once more?"

You laugh and twist away from the tickle of his mouth. "You. Me. Married or else."

"Don't need to twist your arm?"

"No." You drop your chin down to find his mouth with yours. "Just ask nicely."

Drabble masterlist

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I AM ABSOLUTELY LOSING IT!!! I CAN'T BELIEVE I GOT 3 SERIES COMPLETE AJDJSJSBDJSNSBW

SHOUT OUT TO THE 4 LOCAL SHOPS OH MY GOD IT WAS SO WORTH THE EFFORT 🛐🛐😭

MY BABIESSSSS THEY GROWWWWWWW 😭🥹

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Hi Boo! I saw your post about the biopsy, I'm so glad it wasn’t what you initially feared. Sending lots of positive energy your way <3

You know, I’m a particularly "hard person" to please. It takes me forever to get there. I’m very sensitive and feel everything intensely, but reaching the finish line is a real struggle I never climaxed with my ex-boyfriend. Do you think you could write a scenario like that with one of the bots? Like, the reader hadn’t reached climax in a long time, and with their alien, they finally do? It can be with whichever bot you prefer

Sure! It’s actually not that unusual to have trouble reaching that peak 🔞 Mass displaced mech 🌶️

Getting There

Soundwave x Reader

• Servos cupping your cheek as he tips your face toward him and his mask retracts, you try to get out of your own head. To not get mired in your own doubts, because you rarely ever manage to climax during and you don’t want to disappoint him. And you don’t want to fake it like you’ve done before with exes so you didn’t hurt their feelings or because you’d been embarrassed that you couldn’t. Almost feeling like something’s wrong with you when in books it seems so easy. Usually, you can only get there with toys and a lot of work, something a partner’s never had the patience for. And sometimes you just get so sensitive it’s uncomfortable and never manage to climax.

• Your mind is chaos as his mouth slides against yours, your worry and anxiety stringing him tight as his glossa chases the seam of your lips and you open up for him. Letting him taste you, his glossa sliding against your tongue. Can’t read your thoughts, but there’s no shutting out your emotions. Almost drowning in you and can’t stop reaching for you, demanding more. Sinking willingly into the wild, brightness of your emotions, feeling you spreading like fire through him.

• Has anyone ever kissed you like this? Devouring and raw like they need you more than air, more than life. Gasping when he lets you come up for air, his warm mouth brushes your jaw, slides against your neck behind your ear. And he’s shifting down your body, mouth gliding over you. Denta and lips finding the hollows, pressing kisses and soft bites over you as his big hands explore and your hips buck when he cups you, servos stroking lazily while his mouth skims over your hip bone in no real hurry. “Soundwave,” You gasp, squirming against his hand and a servo spears inside you, the side of his hand rubbing.

• Optics shuttered behind his visor, he lets his walls down completely and your emotions pour into him, almost painful in their intensity. Hand shifting against you, hunting for what shifts you closer to pleasure as he groans against your hip. “Don’t hold back,” he growls, servo pumping inside you, curling, feeling your need burning brighter, pleasure building slower, a banked fire needing coaxing. “Let me in.” Learning what you need as he rocks his own hips against the berth, spike aching behind his modesty plating.

• Whimpering when his servo slips free of you, before his mouth is on you, you hear him growl against you. Hands grabbing onto his helm, you relax under him. Stop worrying about reaching that finish line and just enjoying the feel of his touch. His mouth sucking against you, lips and glossa stroking you. Eyes closed, it’s just you and him, the warmth of him against you, his servos flexing against your hips. Body heating and coiling, but it’s still out of reach. Needing more. “Right there,” you whisper, hips lifting and he presses his mouth more firmly against you, servos almost bruising on you. Like he’s encouraging you to grind and buck against his mouth. “Please.” Want to climax, need it and that anxiety surges again, thinking of every time you couldn’t. That empty ache inside you when you’re so close and can’t.

• Feels you start to spiral again and his head lifts some, lips brushing you slick heat. “Stay with me, little one.” Pressing a servo inside you and thrusting as his mouth slides against you, he chases that need. Wanting you to come apart against his mouth, to trust yourself to him. And you’re moving restlessly as he gets rougher, trying to figure out what you need, aching to be inside you. But wanting to take care of you first, to make sure you understand that he has you. That you’re his first priority even if he overloads before he even gets inside you.

• He’s mumbling encouragement and praise against you, sucking against you as his servo pumps inside you, curling and rubbing urgently. Giving you the time you need instead of rushing you. And when you cry out with your release, it’s a ragged gasp. Hear him growl in answer as his servo slips free and his glossa tunnels inside you as you buck. Aware of him shifting over you, the heat of his spike branding your inner thigh when he releases it and then the feel of him slowly stretching you as you’re still coming down from that high. His hips pumping as you tremble with sensitivity and his helm brushes you. “I have you,” he growls as you hang onto him. Trusting him completely with yourself.

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Sure! 🔞 🌶️

Treat

Trailbreaker x Reader

• Has no idea where Sideswipe got those fragging things, but Trailbreaker’s about to smack the younger mech. Repeatedly. Because those little treats he’d distributed to the humans are pure torture. Watching you suck on the end of the popsicle, mouth sliding on it, he shifts uncomfortably in his chair. And he’s not the only one suffering. Bluestreak looks like he’s about to blow a fuse watching his own little human eating one when Trailbreaker glances over.

• Catching one of the other humans’s eyes, you’re aware of the way the bots are watching all of you. The way Trailbreaker’s watching you, lips slightly parted as you chase a drip with your tongue and he groans. Face heating, you suck on the end of the popsicle and Trailbreaker shifts in his chair again, servos gripping the edge of the table so hard you’re surprised he’s not denting it. Hearing another bot whining softly at his human and you’re struggling so hard not to laugh. Wondering if Sideswipe did this on purpose.

• Growling when you stare right at him and your mouth closes on that fragging popsicle, cheeks hollowing when you suck, his spike is aching trapped behind his modesty plating. And he knows you know exactly what you’re doing as half the blasted thing goes in your mouth, a trickle of pink running down your chin. Shoving up from the berth, he grabs you and strides for his habsuite as you laugh that you weren’t done yet.

• He put up with it a lot longer than you’d thought he would as he lets himself into his habsuite and shuts the door, heading right for the berth and mass shifting with you. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous,” you tease as he pulls you down with him and releases his spike. Reaching for you and you dance away out of reach before he can lay you down and try to cover you. Feeling absolutely wicked, you bite off the rest of the popsicle and drop down between his spread thighs.

• Swearing when your mouth closes on the head of his spike, it takes everything to not buck his hips. Shuddering at the icy touch of your mouth, your tongue on him. Ped sliding on the berth when you press a chunk of that fragging treat against him with your tongue and suck. And he’s swearing, hips trembling as that chunk of ice slides over the head of his spike, pushed around with your tongue. It’s too much, almost painful in its intensity and when he overloads, it’s with a startled groan. Painting you with his release when you pull away. Those eyes wicked as you lean to lick the head of his spike clean and you’re laughing when he rolls you under him with a growl.

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BRO CALM THE FUCK DOWN

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Sooo I've been meaning to post some Megamags I mean look at how cute they are!

I love them so very much, I mean they're just the cutest and I need to find more panels of them. That and find more fanfics of them, I need to also make another post of them.