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artoutforblood · 4 years

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slam dunking this here before i go to bed, my bd2 oc

[NAME SPLASH]

HUNGER

(& Honey)

as the PSYCHO SIREN

When they were a child, their siren tattoos manifested and they were sold to hyperion as a guiana pig, and eventually became a back up in case of something ever happened to Angel.

After years of anguishing tests and being treated like an animal, their psyche finally broke. Their first memory is finding that they couldn’t stop laughing and crying. Whoever they were before was lost; buried so deep they would never be found ever again, along with their memories. The shell they left behind was a newborn who knew only misery. Not just one, but two.

The scientists that pumped Eridium into them and poked and prodded and sampled and scarred this child were surprised that they had suddenly stopped engaging. They watched them silently, steadily, breathing in and out, a look in their eyes that the scientists didn’t recognize.

The child that they had been before had fought, yes, but after some time of this change, they got careless and slipped up. The idiot who got too close was suddenly without a throat, and the child was gnashing the tissue and blood and flesh between their teeth, growling like a beast.

The scientists took as many precautions as they could after that. Their tests were more severe than ever, and the dominant personality watched from the outside while the inner voice remained silent. Watching. Waiting. Hurting.

When Angel found out about them, she got into contact with them via her Siren telepathy. However, for the longest time, they would not answer her. Only stared into her with dead, tired, hungry eyes. She promised that she’d get them both out of this, no matter what.

The child thought that this was just another hallucination, another voice to join the other one, but after weeks of gaining their trust and proving to them that she was real through her phaseshifting, they finally responded to her. Short, clipped, curt answers with no further explanations. It wasn’t much, but Angel wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

Eventually, she asked who they were, and the dominant personality replied in a gruff, rumbling voice, “We are hungry. I hunger.”

She asks for their name, even tries to tell them about their previous life (through research) but Hunger denounces any identity before this. That person is dead and gone, that child couldn’t survive, and now they are what remain.

With nothing else to go on, Angel calls them Hunger. She agrees, she’s hungry, too.

If you were to summarize Hunger, it would be Hannibal Lector’s patience and cunning (and cannibalistic tendencies) and Caim Drakengard’s bloodlust, sadism, and terrifying grin plugged into a Borderlands Psycho. Unlike Krieg, they are 100% aware of everything around them, who they are, and can get their point across just fine. They are often quite cruel when they speak and don’t care. This is the personality that takes charge in order to protect themself.

After getting their full trust (and even affection and loyalty) the other personality makes their appearance. The switch between the two is immediately noticeable. This personality is soft spoken, affable, pleasant, even kind. Their voice is also quite the shift, being rich, musical, and gentle. They also offer no name, and Angel decides to call them Honey, after their voice.

Honey is the personality that Hunger is protecting, yet also see’s as a weakness but a necessary one. Honey is the one that allows Hunger to rest when it is safe to do so. They are two and yet one. They are one person with all the same wants and needs and desires, but the two of them have very different ways of going about getting those things. Honey doesn’t shame Hunger for their violence, they understand that it’s necessary, just as Hunger doesn’t shame Honey for reigning them in when it’s necessary. Honey will murder, but has better impulse control and doesn’t immediately turn to that choice. The two of them understand that they are one person and that they can’t survive without each other.

Their combined loyalty to Angel becomes near obsession (almost yandere) and their only wish is to be free so they can free her.

When Angel uses her technomancy to free them, they destroy the facility they were kept in, slaughtered man and mech alike, ate until they were full, made weapons and everything needed to survive the harsh Pandora deserts and went on their rampage to Angel’s freedom.

Angel guides them to the Vault Hunters, whom Hunger very nearly attacks before she steps in to stop them. It’s a very tense stand-off, with the VH on one side of the Angel projection and Hunger on the other.

After some visible disgust towards the VH and Angel practically begging them to get along, Hunger and Honey give in (because they can’t say no to her) and join them, despite the VH also being hesitant about it. But, better to have a Psycho Siren on their side then as an enemy.

Hunger joins them, and once they find out that the VH are looking for fame, they call the entire notion “obscenely superficial” and it becomes something they often mock them for. They see themselves above them. Their journey was just, they were going to save Angel.

After some time, they do form a bond with the VH. Kreig and Hunger get along in the “we can sit here and grunt at each other and not fight”, but it’s Maya that helps take off their ear tag with the Hyperion logo on it, and that’s what finally makes it click with Hunger and Honey that these people are comrades, they’re friends, and they will protect them as well.

When we get to the rescue Angel scene and Angel dies, Hunger and Honey “come to an agreement”, bite their tongue until it’s bleeding, then give Angel the kiss of life and feeding her their blood which is flooded with Eridium. It’s enough to kickstart Angel’s heart again, and she survives.

At that point, Hunger and Honey become this merged personality. They can become parted again, but when they “come to an agreement” they become one. This new personality goes by both names.

Their Siren power is Phasefrenzy, where they are cloaked in a protective skin that makes them bigger with big teeth and long claws and they just go fucking apeshit on everything nearby at top speed and power, tearing things in two with their bare hands. Basically exactly what you think would happen if a Psycho got Siren powers.

#borderlands 2 #bonesart #oc #borderlands

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daily-dose-of-imagines · 4 years

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(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ Matchup ♥

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Hi there!! how are you doing? I hope both of you are doing absolutely fine!! ^^

can i please get a match up; nanatsu no taizai/The Seven deadly sins and Naruto universe? thank youuu. 💛❤️💗🖤

im 5'6 and i LIKE to think im tall , because seriously im taller than most ;;. my myers briggs personality is INTP-T and im curvy to an extent. i have short dark brown hair that it appears black , and somehow has different shades of brown depending on where the sunlight hits , i also have dark dark brown eyes. 👀

im a cat person, and an introvert , i also dislike being outdoors .. im a calm person and is easily annoyed but i try to be patient nevertheless.

and when i get angry, get ready because a storm is coming , and (unfortunately or not) i own a pervert mind. not something to be proud of but it is how it is.

can i please get a match up; nanatsu no taizai/The Seven deadly sins and Naruto universe? thank youuu. 💛❤️💗🖤

im 5'6, she/them, and i LIKE to think im tall , because seriously im taller than most ;;. my myers briggs personality is INTP-T and im curvy to an extent. i have short dark brown hair that it appears black , and somehow has different shades of brown depending on where the sunlight hits , i also have dark dark brown eyes.

.. Im calm person and is easily annoyed but i try to be patient nevertheless and when it doesn’t work i get angry , im a somewhat selfish person by general standards , and it’s difficult for me to understand my feelings or emotions and just feelings in general though i try to empathize with others because people appear to need mental support rather than sense and trying to solve stuff. i guess i am impulsive but only when im feeling negative emotions , i get bored of things if they don’t interest me or aren’t living up to my expectations, which are quite high tbh. i try to tone it down , and sometimes i like to get into arguments not fights because i have never been in one. i can sentimental or blunt but mostly blunt.

what i like for in a partner is someone with a close mindset to mine, as i feel like that person might understand me and it doesn’t take me long to get comfortable around anyone but i can awkward , i have tendency to overthink.

so yeah , i hope it’s noy that much of trouble! have a nice day night or afternoon!! :))) ❤️🖤

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

Hello and thank you for submitting with us, and I hope you see it, since I couldn’t tag you! But we are doing great, and I hope you are too! And I sincerely hope you enjoy the boys we pared you up with! I am so sorry this took so long!

>Admin 𝕋

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

𝐼 𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓅 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽...

I choose you to be with the calm and quiet Neji as your boyfriend! For appearances, Neji will like the simple look that you have, with your dark brown, almost black hair, but he will also like the fact that it can change color depending on how the light hits it! And it’s the same with your eyes! He will love to see them go from dark brown to a light chocolate color! It will mesmerize him! And along with your body, he will find it very soft and supple, and will want to have you close to him at all times, so that no other guys will be able to touch you like he can!

Neji will like the fact that you are a calm person, someone that can discern the situation and is able to help them in a logical way, but can also empathize with them to a point. It is something that Neji is still trying to understand, and that’s why he likes it so much! Neji will also feel that you are a quite mature person, that wants tot help people and their problems but can also make sure when to stop when it becomes too much, and he will definitely like that part of you! If you are feeling any negative emotions, and would start becoming more selfish than is necessary, Neji will tell you what you are doing and then proceed to help you, so that you don’t go down the wrong path! It’s very nice of him to do so! He will also love the fact that you are blunt, because he will appreciate the honesty you would give him!

All in all, I see Neji as someone you can really relate to and someone that you wouldn’t feel so awkward around! Plus, he has a mindset that is close to yours!

I choose the smiley Meliodas for your seven deadly sins boyfriend! Neji is kind of on the opposite side of the spectrum compared to Meliodas, but they still have the same core that would really mech well with you! For appearances, Meliodas won’t really see your height as an issue, though he will feel a bit better about his own height, seeing as he won’t be one of the shortest people in the group! But he will really like your body; Meliodas will obviously like your hair and eyes, but the body is where all his worship will go! He will want to constantly be near it, touching it, and feeling the soft skin in his hands until he is completely, which will sometimes last for hours!

Meliodas is a happy and cheery person, but can become a very quiet and serious if need be! He will like the fact that you are a virtually calm person most of the time, but would find it very entertaining that you can get annoyed pretty easily, but will try to ease it and be patient. Yeah, he’ll just think it’s cute, and would to tease you, that will only make you more annoyed, it’ll just go in circles! He’ll understand that you try to be empathetic to people’s problems while also trying to be objective to it. Meliodas would have a problem trying to keep it objective, especially with the person that he loves! But he will try his best to understand it! Meliodas will try to make sure that you are happy everyday you are with him! He will make sure that you aren’t bored, and happy, feeling no negative emotions whatsoever! And when you do, he will make sure to make you happy again!

All in all, I feel like Meliodas would be the perfect pair for you, because he will unflinchingly support you in whatever you do! He does have a mindset close to yours in terms of how you should treat other people, and differing opinions on other things, but that is pretty healthy! Most importantly, Meliodas will worship you, and treat you like royalty, like you deserve to be!

#submissions #submission #naruto #naruto x you #naruto matchup #seven deadly sins matchup #seven deadly sins #seven deadly sins x you

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imagine-the-energon · 6 years

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The "flirt fights" between Dreadwing and Autobot!s/o got me blushing hard when I found it in tfp tags. If possible, would there be a part 2?

((Hi, my name is Ashley and I just tried to make a full on chapter out of this. No actual smut, sadly. That’s for a part 3 if there’s a request for it.))

PART 1

“Wait!” You called out as Dreadwing started to walk away, making everyone startle except you two. “He’ll offline you, you know that, right? Your honor demands vengeance, but is it worth getting killed long before you can even start the task?”

“Commander?” Smokescreen asked as you stepped away from the ranks, and Dreadwing turned.

“What would you know about honor and vengeance?” The ex-con finally asked.

“Because I lost my sister to Megatron, and I once had the exact same thoughts as you. I acted on them, and had Jazz and a few other sabetours not been there, he would’ve almost immediately offlined me. Please believe me when I say you won’t be online long enough to watch him offline if you continue this way.” You offered your servo, smiling at him hopefully. “Please, rethink this.”

When all of you had returned to the base, you were quick to explain, for the most part, why you were able to convince Dreadwing rather than Optimus. As expected, the humans gave you hell for it because they didn’t know Cybertronian customs, but everyone else…

You had to explain your spark had essentially chosen him as a mate, and vice versa. Apparently Dreadwing either didn’t care, or didn’t know about it, because he had all but locked himself in a spare berthroom as soon as everyone had gotten back. You weren’t really surprised. An enemy base is now your only chance to live? You’d kill yourself if you had to seek refuge on Nemesis.

When the briefing as over, you were quick to go to your berthroom, thankfully an entire hall away from the one Dreadwing had chosen. But yet, recharge didn’t let you rest easy, simply because no matter how many systems you shut down, you were still awake, spark pulling and insisting to see it’s mate again. Venting, you stood and slunk out of the room, cloaking device automatically turning on. You couldn’t get attached; he was an ex-con, after all.

Entering the code for the spare room – as it used to be a get-away room for you if you were compromised and didn’t want anyone to find you – the door slid open and you saw the mech look up, optics narrowing. He probably saw the glitch you’ve been unable to get out since the last time you two fought. “Why are you here?” he grumbled, turning away.

“I couldn’t recharge,” you simply said. “And I have a feeling you couldn’t either, even if you are in Omega Base 1.” He just glanced at you before staring at one of the view screens, showing the stars above. You stared at him, spark calm, and it made you angry. Why couldn’t it have been Bumblebee?

“Do you know?” He said suddenly, looking at you.

“Yes. Well, if you’re talking about our sparks, yes.” You were stumbling. You didn’t like it. Crossing your servos and shifting your hips, you raised a browplate at him. “Was that what you were talking about?”

“Yes. We cannot…” he paused, most likely looking for a word.

“Court?” You offered, rolling your optics. “Glad we’re on the same page then.” Your spark lurched again and it made you grimace. “Optimus will probably wish to speak to you tomorrow. Don’t let Magnus get to you; he’s just concerned for our younger members.”

Pushing off against the desk, you walked out of the room, spark all but tearing apart. You had to do this. You had to prove you were stronger than instincts.

You sat at the mouth of the cave as the rain poured, unable to take your optics off of the crater your Amica had willingly flown into. “He gave himself up so that others may return home.” You didn’t jump at his voice. Everything was just too… numb. “The war is truly over then.”

“There will be those who wish it to continue,” you mumbled, digits playing with your shin armor. “And rebuilding will take… centuries.” Without processing, you reached out through your Amica bond and winced back, curling deeper into your frame. Even when Optimus had been Orion, the bond had still been there. Now… it was just… gone.

The seeker settled down beside you, following your gaze. “I was wrong,” he finally said, tone quiet. “I joined the Decepticons to follow Skyquake. I believed that he would choose the best option for us, the most honorable one. Now I see that he was forced to discard those when Megatron set his sights on us. Optimus Prime was, in no doubt, a mech with high morales.” he then turned his gaze to you. “And he was right to choose you as a Commander.” Something in his voice made you swallow and turn towards him. “I was wrong… about everything.”

Shuttering your optics, you couldn’t think as your lip-plates brushed, sending sparks down your frame. Suddenly, you were being pressed against the ground, your hands dragging over the mech’s wings as he nibbled and sucked on your neck cables, making you gasp and moan. Everything came to a screeching halt, however, when you caught sight of the crater. In an instant, you pushed him back, shaking your head. You two already made your bed; you agreed not to court. “I’m sorry,” you muttered, gathering your senses and fleeing the cavern, heading towards the ruins of Iacon.

Rebuilding, so far, was going excellent. Those Decepticons wishing to help immediately flocked around Dreadwing, and so far, they hadn’t caused any incidents, for which you were grateful. Within 10 earth years, everything in Iacon was starting to look like it had before it was bombed, and you kept in contact with your human allies to the best of your abilities.

“So,” A now 24 year old Miko said, chin in hand as she smirked. “How’s your relationship with Seeks going?”

“We’re not in any type of work relationship outside of work, and that is only when workplace incidents happen,” you replied. You had fallen back into your old lawyer job easily, but there were days where you almost… missed the war. No, that wasn’t it…

You missed Dreadwing. You missed the surprise attacks, and always encountering him when you were scouting. You missed the days where neither one of you could bother to fight and just sat down and talked. He had stolen your spark, and you were too ashamed to admit it. Rumor was that there had been femmes asking to court him.

“And yet that expression says you want something more,” Miko pointed out, eyebrow raised pointedly. “Look, I was young, stupid and brash when I first met you guys, but you helped me open my eyes! I know, compared to humans, you guys live forever, but what you two have… find each other in the opposite faction, him being there almost every time you went out scouting, him willingly leaving his cause behind because of you… that’s something you will only find once. Don’t push it away just because you two fought a couple times.”

“It’s… not that simple Miko,” you said, finally and truly gazing at her. The pink highlights in her hair were gone, and she wore it loose and curly. Laugh lines decorated her face, making her look 34 instead of 24. Where had the impulsive 14 year old you had always saved gone? “This war… Almost everyone now was born into it, there abouts. I was one of the few who saw Cybertron in it’s Golden Age. I can tell, for certain, that Dreadwing was not. And he had a twin.” you shook your helm, spark aching. “It won’t work out like one of those stories you’re telling me about.”

“Because he had a twin?” Miko asked in disbelief.

“Cybertronian twins aren’t like human twins. Almost all of our twins are Split-Sparked; one being, two bodies. If one dies, the other will follow unless they’re determined to avenge their fallen half. If I were to court him, it would only be half-filling and twice as waning. We could not fully become Conjunx Endura; spouses.”

“Jack and I have known each other for 10 years, and we’re completely ok with not marrying. June and Fowler aren’t married, but they’ve been together for almost 14 years! You don’t have to marry to be happy. Cybertronians are different, I know, but surely that has to be similar, right?”

You pondered her words, digits resting lightly on your facials. “I suppose…” you started slowly. “A bond could form similar to an Endura bond, but not quite an Amica one. It has happened before… and we’d still get legal rights as a Bonded Couple…” Sparing a glance at the human, you grinned at her, hope igniting. “Thank you, Miko.”

The woman laughed and grinned herself. “Go get your mech,” she said before ending the call.

((Thank you for the ask, and I hope you like it!))

~~Ohma~~

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roseymoseyberry · 7 years

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Bite the Bullet (one-shot)

Look. Look.

We all make choices sometimes.

And somtimes those choices lead to the realization that you might just like Megatron with red minibots.

Anyway, shout out to @canonmorelikecanyounot (18+ blog) because this is entirely her fault for her tags about Megatron flirting with Cliffjumper while in gun mode.

And man was it fun to write some v indulgent smut while also getting to play around with g1 silliness.

Title: Bite the Bullet

Series: G1

Ship: Megatron/Cliffjumper

Rating/warnings: Explicit for not so safe or sane gun play, one of the characters being in their alt-mode, technically dubcon since Megatron is a prisoner (but he’s v into it), annnd yeah. It’s gun fucking and Megatron is the gun.

For a refresher course on what exactly Megatron is like as a gun, here’s the main cartoon ref I used and the real life inspiration for his alt-mode.

“So you’re that type of mech, hm?”

Cliffjumper’s frown deepened and he barely turned his helm to glare over his shoulder.

However, he quickly found it was difficult to know where to point his glare when the enemy was stuck in his alt-mode. If he was a car it would be easy, and Cliffjumper had some idea of where to look at a flight-mode. He wasn’t dumb.

But it was a harder call when the leader of the Decepticons was a gun.

The muzzle maybe? But it was turned away from him since Megatron was laid out on the prison berth parallel to the cell barrier. The scope would have been his next guess, but it was also aimed at the wall. All Cliffjumper could see was the butt of the gun and the trigger and all along the bottom edge of the barrel.

Slag though, Cliffjumper almost didn’t mind since it gave him the excuse to drag his optics along the full length of the gun.

No, not gun. Not just a gun.

Megatron.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

The minibot kept expecting the gun to move, to at least twitch or roll, anything. He couldn’t fully comprehend the fact that anyone could have an alt-mode that completely lacked mobility.

But Megatron just continued to lay there in the exact same spot as when Optimus placed him there the day before.

“I should think it’s obvious, Autobot,” Megatron replied, his tone amused. Cliffjumper’s hands fisted at his sides and his frown tightened.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?!”

Megatron’s laugh grated on his audials.

“You like my form, don’t you?”

His spark felt as if it had stopped cold in his chest. Cliffjumper gaped at the Decepticon before squaring his shoulders and pinching his lips tight. His head turned away sharply to look at the wall.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, so can it, rust bucket.”

“I think you do.”

“I said can it!”

“Your friend wasn’t subtle,” Megatron continued, unperturbed, and Cliffjumper felt his face heat up. No, he supposed Bumblebee’s “Behave” with a wink when they had switched off was pretty obvious. It wasn’t exactly something he was shy about admitting to normally – they all had their kinks, some so specific that his seemed mild in comparison – but Cliffjumper wished now he had kept his big mouth shut.

He was gonna get Bumblebee back after this. Maybe a good right hook to the noggin—

“You want to frag me, don’t you, little Autobot?”

Shame sparked across Cliffjumper’s circuits as he felt his array warm and his interface protocols online in a hurry.

“Sh-shut up!”

“You do,” Megatron said, dragging the last vowel out mockingly. Cliffjumper’s engine growled, even as his face burned. “No need to be ashamed. You’re hardly the first, and you won’t be the last. I am well constructed after all, and you will not find a more destructive weapon to hold in your hands.”

Cliffjumper gritted his dentae. He shouldn’t rise to the bait, he knew that, but he hated the feeling of unspoken words on his glossa.

“So you’re a nice gun. So what? What would I want with you anyway?” Cliffjumper spat out.

The gun hummed with obvious delight.

“Oh, I’m sure you’re well aware. It’s quite something to hold such power in your hands, to touch and perhaps to even taste that strength, isn’t it?” Cliffjumper’s fingers twitched and his mouth watered and his spark pulsed quickly in his chest. “And I know you’ll agree that to have destruction at your fingertips and taunt fate with it pressed to your frame can bring about a rush like none other.” His plating shifted and, slowly, spread out so that the growing heat could leak out without needing to turn on his cooling fans. “And while you may be small, Autobot, you won’t have any trouble taking my barrel inside you, will you?”

With the clamping together of his thighs, Cliffjumper’s valve throbbed behind his panel.

Frag.

“I’m not stupid, and I’m sure as slag not suicidal, so why don’t you--”

“But you are interested.”

Cliffjumper turned on his heel to glower at the Megatron again, his arms crossed over his chest. “Not in having you blow me up from the inside out!”

The gun cackled and Cliffjumper’s plating flared irritably.

“Is that all that holds you back? Then rest easy,” Megatron insisted casually. “In this form, while I am much more powerful, I am otherwise in most every other way the same as any other gun. And I assume you know how to safely indulge yourself, hm?”

Cliffjumper ground his dentae until he could swear he tasted sparks on his glossa. It didn’t help to fight the burning heat flooding his face or to ignore the distinct sensation of lubricant slicking his valve.

“You honestly think I’ll believe you can’t pull your own trigger?”

Primus, it was so weird to have this conversation when Megatron didn’t move at all. His voice was all that Cliffjumper had to go off of.

Did that immobility really go that far?

“Why else do you think I would let my lieutenants have the pleasure?”

A shiver raced down Cliffjumper’s spine at the thought of that very pleasure, to squeeze that trigger and feel that recoil for himself, because it – he – had to have a nasty kick. Frag, he would give anything to feel that for himself.

“And—and what do you get out of this?”

“Relief from the processor-rusting boredom of not only being a prisoner, but unable to move at that,” Megatron explained as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. However, his voice took on something too much like a purr when he continued, “And it’s not every day I find such an appreciative audience. I would very much enjoy having an adorable little Autobot like yourself lapping at my muzzle.”

If Cliffjumper didn’t know better, he’d think his face was melting off from how boiling hot it felt.

His hands were clenched so tight he was scrapping paint off his palms.

“Better yet would be the desperate clenching of your valve as you come undone around my barrel.”

Cliffjumper managed to keep the whine from escaping his vocalizer.

However, he lost the battle with his interface array as his panel opened with an audible shlick.

“Shut up!” he spat when Megatron began to snicker, and despite himself, Cliffjumper reached up to offline the cell barrier.

Compared with the rest of the hefty weapon, Megatron’s stock seemed nearly delicate. Thin and round and long, the only interruption to its sleekness was the lip where one half could slide into the other to collapse the stock.

And that lip caught on Cliffjumper’s anterior node as he rocked his hips along the slick length, trapping the stock between his valve lips to rub himself against. A grunt escaped his open mouth and his hold on the grip tightened.

“Sensitive, aren’t you?”

“And you never shut up, do you?!” Cliffjumper complained as he pressed the stock harder against himself. Finding a position had been awkward, but finally the Autobot had settled for straddling the stock and leaning over the rest of the gun so the muzzle faced away from him. One hand braced against the berth while the other was wrapped around the grip of the gun, fingers stroking and squeezing the unyielding metal as best he could while holding the rest of the gun to his frame, slowly warming it with how hot his frame was in comparison.

Another roll of his hips had Cliffjumper’s node catching on the stock’s lip again and he groaned as he repeated the motion yet again.

“Yet you persist. Am I that that irresistible, Autobot?”

Cliffjumper hated how the taunting only had his hips bucking harder.

“Arrogant glitch!”

But there was no denying the fact that Cliffjumper couldn’t take his optics off the length of the gun. The weight of Megatron in his hand grounded him while the beautifully maintained chrome caught and held his attention as it glittered and shimmered with his every movement. His forefinger stroked the trigger guard longingly while he leaned further forward, following the lines of the barrel as he got close enough that it wouldn’t take any effort at all to close his lips around the side of the long cylinder.

His hot ex-vent fogged the sleek metal.

Cliffjumper licked his lips before gritting his teeth.

“Go on then. Why not take a little taste?”

As much as the minibot wanted to argue, the fact was he wanted that taste badly. Cliffjumper told himself that surely just one lick wouldn’t be so bad. Just along the side, nothing dangerous, just a taste.

One small stroke with the tip of his glossa though only made the cloying hunger in Cliffjumper’s spark worse, made the chasm of need that much deeper, and a whine was out of his mouth before he could stop it. Megatron tasted like cleaner and ions and smoke, and Cliffjumper opened his mouth wide to flatten his whole glossa around the curve of the barrel, dragging along the completely unmarred surface, letting his senses be consumed by the heady taste. It only strengthened the closer his glossa lapped towards the muzzle.

“Take what you want.”

Impulse beat out self-preservation. Cliffjumper had to tilt his chassis, letting his forehelm rest on the berth and his hips tilt up so that he could shift the angle of the gun. Within a few moments he managed to get it just right so the stock was still pressed hard against his valve but the muzzle was aimed right at his face.

And that managed to give him pause for a second as the realization of just how stupid this whole thing was hit him.

Unfortunately, it also set his face aflame and lubricant dripped freely along the stock.

Cliffjumper opened his mouth and shifted the gun -- Megatron -- until the muzzle was between his lips and his glossa could plunge into the interior of the barrel.

The taste was caustic and burned his glossa and his proccessor swam in the overwhelming rush of arousal.

His hips jerked down hard on the stock captured between his valve lips, his anterior node finding the stock’s lip again to grind back and forth across, and his calipers clenched on nothing as overload took Cliffjumper by surprise. Cliffjumper clamped his thighs together as a moaned curse tumbled out of his mouth, muffled around Megatron’s barrel.

“What a good little Autobot,” Megatron purred from between Cliffjumper’s legs, and the minibot hated how it prompted another throbbing wave of pleasure through his array.

Cliffjumper was quick to lift his helm up and away and spit out a “Frag you” as he pushed up onto his knees. Megatron’s barrel had lines of his oral fluid streaked across it, his hammer and scope had splatters of transfluid across them, and his stock was absolutely soaked, drips of lubricant falling from the length to pool on the berth. Cliffjumper’s frame shuddered at the mess he had left all over the gorgeous gun and the burning taste of danger on his glossa. A low simmering heat reignited in his array before it could even fully cycle down from the overload.

“I’d much rather frag you.”

Cliffjumper licked his lips and his calipers cycled opened in preparation for what it already knew he would let it have.

Megatron had been aimed right at his helm and hadn’t pulled his trigger.

Maybe couldn’t.

"Fine. Why the frag not?"

It was on his back, servo around Megatron's barrel as he pressed the muzzle in past the soaked rim of his valve, staring down at the Decepticon's gorgeous alt-mode as he pierced himself on it, that Cliffjumper finally noticed the way the scope glinted at him. It was slight, easy to miss.

"Can you see outta that thing?"

"Perhaps," Megatron answered, his tone amused as it had been the whole time, but there was something deeper to it now, gravelly in a way that put even his usual voice to shame. "Would that stop you?"

The edge of the muzzle grated along Cliffjumper's valve walls as he pulled it deeper, just on the edge of pain, and it pulled a moan from his lips.

"If your talking didn't, then I dunno why you think that would."

Megatron chuckled and the scope lens flickered again.

That was one question answered at least.

Not that it mattered really. Not when Cliffjumper had the long, unyielding length of Megatron's barrel pushing in, bit by bit, stretching him so gloriously.

Once Cliffjumper had as much of it as he dared press into his frame, he carefully pulled and pushed the gun, slowly thrusting it into himself.

"F-frag--hah!"

"Is that really all you can take, Autobot?"

Cliffjumper grit his dentae and offlined his optics, wondering if he couldn't just ignore Megatron as he took his pleasure. But only a few seconds passed before he gazed down the length of his body again, watched the way the Megatron’s barrel disappeared past his stretched rim. The most powerful gun Cliffjumper had ever held in his hands, and his throbbing valve was enveloping it in wet heat. Each time he dragged it out, the way his lubricant shone on the black metal was too gorgeous to not watch glitter.

"Come now. Let me fill you completely.”

Cliffjumper’s hips jerked and his hands pushed before he could even think to argue.

Inner calipers gave way and Cliffjumper threw his head back with a shout as the muzzle kissed the very back of his valve. His outer most calipers cycled down as the edge of the muzzle was engulfed, settling snuggly around the thinner barrel and holding the entirety of the muzzle inside his frame.

Keeping Megatron trapped in his fluttering valve as Cliffjumper overloaded around him.

Cliffjumper arched his back as he whimpered, defenseless against the raw pleasure assaulting his sensornet as he shuddered.

“Mmm. Very nice.”

“Get melted,” Cliffjumper muttered breathlessly, internally embarrassed by how little fight was actually in his voice. In fact, he sounded well fragged, static hissing around the edges. It was with trembling hands that Cliffjumper carefully pulled the gun from his abused valve, pausing when aftershocks would have him clenching around the muzzle again.

Once free, Cliffjumper set Megatron down on the berth next to him, parallel to his frame, and then offlined his optics to give himself a moment to come down from the charged high. His valve felt empty but satiated.

“You made such a spectacular spectacle that I suppose you deserve something as a reward, don’t you agree?”

Cliffjumper onlined one optic and turned his head to glower at Megatron.

“I got what I wanted.”

“True. But I imagine that this will only sweeten the memory.”

Before Cliffjumper could think of anything to say to that, Megatron’s alt-form started to hum in a way that had nothing to do with a vocalizer. Cliffjumpers sensory systems were blinded by bright light and a deafening blast. The shock was enough to have his frame moving instantly, jumping and pushing himself off the berth to roll onto the floor with a yelp.

When Cliffjumper managed to reboot his optics and online them, it was to see the gun falling from where it had slammed against the wall from recoil, clattering to the floor.

And when Megatron’s form finally settled, it was with the muzzle nearly aimed at Cliffjumper.

The minibot stared, mouth agape, legs splayed open and frozen in place while his spark thundered in his chest.

“You—you—!”

“I never actually said I couldn’t pull my own trigger,” Megatron supplied, his tone smug, clearly pleased with himself.

And, despite himself – despite the spark-chilling realization that he had placed his life at Megatron’s mercy for an overload – Cliffjumper’s frame shuddered and his valve throbbed.

That damned scope flickered again, watching him.

Frag. Frag, frag, frag.

“You really are a fragged up little Autobot, aren’t you?”

Megatron was teasing him, and worst still, it nearly sounded like praise as well.

Cliffjumper’s face burned and outrage flooded his systems.

With an audible snap his panels closed and Cliffjumper scrambled to his feet, his engine growling threateningly.

“I outta throw you in a smelter myself, you no good slag-sucking decepti-creep!”

Megatron cackled as Cliffjumper berated him, occasionally slipping into genuine laughter when Cliffjumper demanded he stop laughing because he was being serious, slaggit!

Worst still was that Cliffjumper couldn’t just leave. He was the guard on duty, so he couldn’t leave Megatron alone down here, and he definitely couldn’t leave all of the sticky evidence of his activities with the Decepticon prisoner behind for anyone to find. Cliffjumper was pretty sure he would rather take a bullet to the processor than have to face Optimus if his leader knew what he had done.

Cliffjumper was stuck with the mouthy Decepticon for the rest of his shift.

So if he got a little enjoyment out of thoroughly cleaning Megatron’s gun form from his muzzle down to the end of his stock while cursing him out, well, Cliffjumper deserved something for his trouble.

“Soundwave.”

His lieutenant didn’t so much as look at him, busy with decrypting the code that held Megatron trapped in his alt-form. There was no doubt in Megatron’s processor though that he was listening. If ever there was a mech capable of multitasking efficiently, it was Soundwave.

After all, he had managed to keep Starscream distracted while sending Ravage to slip into the Autobot base, rescuing Megatron before the Autobots could even come to a consensus on what to do with their prisoner.

“What’s the name of that red minibot?”

This time Soundwave’s head did swivel to face Megatron’s scope.

“Cassette’s designation is--”

“No, no, not Rumble.” Megatron paused for a moment when Soundwave continued to stare at him. “Or whichever one painted himself red this week. I mean an Autobot.”

Soundwave’s head tilted.

“Three Aubobot minibots feature red paint.”

“The one with horns then.”

“Two Autobot minibots fit that description.”

Megatron growled. “The trigger happy one then!”

Soundwave’s head straightened as he nodded and said, “Minibot’s designation is Cliffjumper.”

“Cliffjumper, hm? A fitting name.” Megatron watched as Soundwave returned his full focus on the code that would soon free him again.

He couldn’t help a quiet chuckle to himself.

A fitting name indeed, and one Megatron would be sure to remember.

#The end is extra silly but i couldn't help making the joke #there are a lot of small tfs with red in their paintjobs haha #fanfiction

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