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I love Bratty Router <3

Took me 5 million years to find your account again/silly

Anyways. You know the drill. I need Prowl, brat tamer Prowl with Router. You know my brain. I am now dead (mentally)

HEWWOOOOOO. For you, my dear, I am making an exception for the OC rule bc I Love Router. Everyone give it up for Router!! He's a BRAT and Prowl desperately wants to make his mouth shut up <3

Rated Explicit, ~800 words, Prowl/OC, Oral Sex, Dom/Sub dynamic, brat taming

He flits through his memory banks, tracking down the day's schedule.

Prowl ex-vents, massaging his temple. Router's smug face haunts his processor, a persistent image that he can't quite shake. With a huff, he pushes himself away from his desk. No more work would be getting done, not now.

Router is off shift—perfect. Knowing him, he'd be in the rec room, causing mischief, no doubt.

Exiting his office, he rationalizes to himself. He's just being proactive. He's preventing Router from getting into any trouble, which he is so easily disposed to. That's it.

He ignores the other data points his processor loves to hand him whenever he thinks about Router, and all the warm feelings that surround the memories. (Mood improvement is 83% higher after encounters with Router. Stress levels are reduced by 86%—)

He makes it to the rec room, and walks in. The room is decently populated, with scattered groups around the tables. He scans the room, finding Router lounging upon a booth, arms draped across the back and legs sprawled out. He gestures with a servo, engrossed in conversation with his friends.

As Prowl approaches the table, Router looks up. His optics flash, and a cheeky grin spreads across his lips.

"Prowl!" He greets, sending a lazy wave, "What can we do for you?" He pauses for a moment, calculating, before drawling out a cheeky "Sir."

Prowl is suddenly reminded of the last time Router called him "sir"—a crying Router upon his lap, his panels open and valve a swollen red as Prowl made him count out each slap he gave him and thank him for it.

He discreetly shifts on his peds, panel suddenly tighter than before.

"Router. Come with me." He steadily ignores the whispers the erupt from the others at the table. He doesn't owe them anything, they can speculate all they want. They don't matter.

Router cocks his head, mouth opening. (Lips still faintly marked from when he bit them just days ago, desperate to smother his moans—)

"Oh? What for? I haven't done anything wrong yet. It's been barely two days!"

Of course Router is being difficult. They both know what this is about. But Router enjoys this game of theirs too much, and unfortunately, he knows how much Prowl does too.

They lead the same old song and dance; Prowl getting increasingly more frustrated as Router riles him up. Back and forth they argue, until Prowl has had enough. He grabs Router by the arm, yanking him up. (Router gives a jaunty wave and wink to his friends. Prowl ignores that too.)

The entire walk to Prowl's habsuite, Router chatters—taunting and teasing, even flirty winks that fluster Prowl more than he would admit.

Shoving him into his room, he closes the door before rounding on Router.

"Since you've been using that mouth of yours so much today, why don't we give it a use?"

Router gives him an innocent look. "I don't know what you could mean by that—OH!"

He clatters to his knees, manhandled by Prowl. (He's bigger than Prowl, they both know he could stay standing if he wanted to, but he lets Prowl have this power—)

Router finds himself face to face with Prowl's spike, a white and black shaft with blinking red biolights flashing in arousal. Prefluid leaks from the tip, glistening in the low lighting of the room.

"Wow, how forward of you, Prowl. Take a bot out for dinner first, why don't you?" Router chides, unable to let even one opportunity to tease slide—but Prowl can see the blatant hunger in his optics as he eyes the spike.

Reaching down, he sets his servos on Router's head, yanking him closer. He groans as his spike slides across Router's cheek, smearing the prefluid obscenely onto it.

"I swear to Primus, Router, if you don't stop talking and start sucking—" he threatens, rubbing Router's face even futher into his crotch.

"If you insist, sir," he replies mockingly. And with that, he finally takes Prowl's aching spike head into his mouth.

Prowl groans lowly, reveling in the smooth glide of Router's tongue and the warm, tight heat of his mouth. Router hums, betraying his delight as he swirls his glossa, sending wonderful vibrations down the length. He feeds the spike further inside, lips stretching obscenely as drool and lubricant slips out. He lavishes each ridge with attention, pulling out huffs of pleasure from Prowl above. Inch after inch, the spike stretches his throat, until his face is buried down to the root, the entire length inside.

Prowl basks for a klik, letting the other become accustomed to the weight of him. He admires the bulge on Router's neck cables, the metal tubing glistening slightly from escaped drool. He spies the others open panel, and angles his leg forward, offering him a place to grind.

Router eagerly takes it, humping at Prowl's ped as he deepthroats Prowl's spike.

"Good boy," Prowl grunts, petting his head. Router lets out a whine. "You're so much better when that mouth of yours is occupied. Maybe I should—ah!—do this more often," he muses, gently beginning to rock his hips.

A rhythm forms, as Prowl begins to fuck Router's throat in earnest, timing it with the other's desperate humps on his leg. After a moment, he experimentally jostles Router with his knee, bouncing him, and moans as it makes the other's throat tighten. He does it again, to see if it will bring the same result, and to his pleasure, it does.

Router is a mess—his valve and spike weeping lubricant copiously upon Prowl's leg, face smeared with drool and lubricants, and optics watering at particularly rough thrusts. Prowl saves an image to a file in his processor, not wanting this moment to be lost.

Yes, Prowl muses, This is an optimal way to keep Router occupied and out of trouble. The data speaks for itself.

Better to add a few more plot points, though. He'll have to try this again tomorrow.

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tldr; creating a project, the 1st one is Latin for "Always and Forever" and was the original name for this project. The 2nd one is from last December where I planned on writing prompts for a small compilation of short stories

the current project is still in early development, but im just having trouble with a name

reblog for greater reach

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mb i fuckin died for almost a full month 💀 2025 is not my year

anyways Prowl is a brat tamer and I love him

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hey hey hey so i saw this post awhile back about blitzwing having like 3 spikes that are able to separate and a reblog under it was like “so what if when he and bumblebee are recharging blitz is actually awake and slowly opening bumblebees valve more and more till he can’t even shut his panel” and i wanna know how u feel about that.

- 🪨

his spike must be big if it's able to separate into 3 good god-

being split open in such a way while recharging, waking up to find your panel can't close? good luck explaining to anyone why exactly you can't come out of your room. but it's okay, he's got Blitz to keep him busy the whole day...or until he gets the courage to go get his panels fixed

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i read a fic of jazz helping prowl de stress (now don’t hold me to this i read it at 2am) where he used like vibrations from music to help with the aches in his backstruts cus he was working for so long for so many hours straight.. bumblebee did end up appearing in the end but u can always skip that part. tbh it sorta made me like the idea of bee/prowl/jazz

Thrusting to slow beats n rhythms methinks. Also Bumblebee in the chair watching them go at it. Sometimes he's a lil freak who likes to watch

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How do you feel about masochist Soundwave? I have like 200 headcanons about him and his freaky shenanigans.

Masochist Freakwave. It's one of the ways he can properly destress from dealing with Megatron and Starscream's old married couple bickering on a daily basis

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ratchet getting bimbo-ified by drift.. also o think i once read a fic like that where he basically becomes a spike-slut due to a temporary hardware chip or smth on ao3?

he's so back in his party ambulance days. yeah he needs to be turned into the world's biggest himbo for his wife, make him take a long vacation and come back a bimbo

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what’s ur fav jazz/prowl valveplug trope..

Jazz destressing his husband by any means. It works every single time

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what’s ur fav prowl ship :3

jazzprowl. i love the husbands <3

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🤯

that's it im fucking the wave duo. you know who you are (silly)

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I need to [long redacted beep] that robot

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TIME TO RANDOMIZE YOUR GENITALS

Based on this post. Reblog and tag what you got on the wheel! In the event this breaches containment; I'm a monsterfucker so be warned that a good chunk of these reflect that.

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for valentines day, im thinking about prowl. send me any fics, headcanons, anything involving Prowl. i miss my asshole bot

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How do you feel about babygirl Roddy?

i need babygirl roddy right now. every day. every minute. i'll take him out dinner first dw

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i actually got a whole list of things, characters, etc that im into finally. along with a few plots here and there. so rp stuff is done as done can be

please I am dying/lh

my roleplay stuff be here

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sucking Jazz's spike gotta be like using one of those singing toothbrushes in a way. imagine sucking this bot off and you can hear Livin' On A Prayer by Bon Jovi

anyways still smash

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when the stress hits so hard that you want to be used and destroyed by a different robot one by one