Yup. You heard right. I made two pieces of art for Valentine's day. One traditional and one digital. I made these for a Valentine's Contest in a discord server and I figured I post them here since I haven't posted in a while.
I saw the skybound preview of oplita and I decided to draw it in the traditional style, using only pigma micron pens for the lineart and colored pencils for the colors.
As for this one...um, don't ask. I don't know how I managed to draw this one. But I decided to kill two birds in one stone. If you need context, Strongswipe is giving Oplita a bit of a pushing encouragement.
Also, TFA Elita....holy shit! I had to redraw her arm so many times, it ain't funny! I swear to god, I think I had a mini silent breakdown that wasn't exactly like a breakdown, but more of a 'how does robot arm work?!'
Thankfully, after about three redraws and different angles, I got one pose that looked decent enough. Then again, as an artist, I hate drawing hands in general. The struggle is real.
But besides that, the pieces are done and I hope they're okay. I tried the best I could.
Given all the Datsun bro asks can I ask for any fun headcanons you might have for them?
(And also Jazz, Devcon, and Sunstreaker since I believe they're the ones you ship em with most often XD
Mostly looking at the detsun bros tho)
This ask made me realise that whenever I talk about the Datsuns I always end up making headcanons that are really angsty! So trying to keep things cute was a fun challenge lol!
Also I apologise for how long you've waited for your reply! And to everyone else who has sent me an ask! I will get round to answering them eventually! Even if it takes me like two weeks!
I also apologise for how long your answer Unfortunately when people ask me stuff I can't stop myself from going over board lol.
So bellow is a lot of headcanons and small scenes about the Datsun brothers as they grow up. I have taken inspiration from probably a few different fics, mainly @cutekittenlady's au.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy my ramblings! And thank you so much for the ask! Xxxxxxx
Prowl is the Cybertronian equivalent of about eight years old when his Creators first tell him that he is going to be a big brother.
Prowl immediately went into full research mode, learning everything he could about carrying and sparklings. He was more worried about things going wrong than his Creators were. Thankfully nothing did! Something Prowl takes credit for!
Prowl keeps track of all the milestones Smokescreen reaches, encouraging him to reach them by teaching Smokescreen to build a tower of blocks or reading to him his favourite non-fiction books. After Smokescreen says his first word (which was Prowl) Prowl takes him in for show and tell, without telling his Creators who freak out until they get a call from Prowl's school. Prowl is confused as to why he would need their permission when Smokescreen is HIS brother.
As they get older, Prowl starts to help Smokescreen with his homework. he also teaches Smokescreen how to play board games and he doesn't go easy on him either, so when Smokescreen does beat him, Prowl is really proud.
Even as a sparkling, Smokescreen sees how touches from anyone other than him or their Creators makes Prowl uncomfortable, so any time one of their distant relatives or their Creators friends or random old people try to give Prowl a hug, Smokescreen always draws their attention to stop them doing so, even if it gets himself in trouble.
Prowl is about 16 whilst Smokescreen is about 8 when their Creators tell them that they're carrying again.
Smokescreen is really excited to be a big brother! Especially because Prowl had been such a good big brother to him!
Even as a baby Bluestreak already has an amazing aim, using it to throw his toys so they land directly on his brothers' chevrons, or launching his food with a spoon like a cannonball so that it hits them square in the face. Bluestreak thinks this is hilarious! Smokescreen and Prowl would prefer he stopped using them as target practice, even if they're both impressed by his aim.
Although Smokescreen then encourages Bluestreak to aim his energon at relatives or house guests they don't like since none would suspect their adorable baby brother of such a thing!
Prowl, who is now training at the Enforcer Academy, doesn't do baby-talk instead taking everything that Bluestreak says seriously as the bit babbles on about nothing as a toddler. Which Bluestreak appreciates, as unlike the adults around them, he can tell his brother is taking him seriously, answering the questions he is trying to communicate to learn more about the world around them. Prowl also explains his evidence in murder cases out loud to a baby Bluestreak as it helps him to connect dots he might do otherwise. Bluestreak has no idea what his older brother is talking about but enjoys spending time with his older brother, and has accidently helped to connect dots before.
When he gets a little bigger, Bluestreak enjoys playing "Titans and City-Speakers" with him as the "City-Speaker" sitting atop Smokescreen's shoulders who is the "Titan" that Bluestreak can control by pulling on his brother's chevron. The pair of them must defeat the evil Unicron played by Prowl. Prowl does not understand the appeal of make believe and his acting skills are abysmal, but he plays along anyway.
The three of them all enjoy visiting the Crystal Gardens, where the native singing crystals of Praxus grow. Prowl finds that the environment calms his ever overwhelmed processor. Smokescreen enjoys figuring out how to use the different echos of sound to create tricks and illusions. Bluestreak likes that the crystals always listen to his babbling and that they babble back.
Eventually, Prowl decides that he can't stay in Praxus, not when he could be helping the Autobots to fights for a better a Cybertron. He is around 21 at this point, meaning Smokescreen would be 13 and Bluestreak would be 5.
Leaving his brothers was the biggest factor holding Prowl back from going, but ultimately Prowl believes that he can do more to help in Iacon, and since Praxus is neutral in the burgeoning war, Prowl believes that he is leaving his brothers is what should have been one of the safefest city-states on the planet.
A few months later, Prowl would be proven wrong when the Decepticons destroy Praxus.
Smokescreen and Bluestreak are two of the few survivors, their Creators giving their lives to shield their sparklings from the bombs.
Prowl vows to never leave his brothers again.
So from then on, wherever Prowl is sent as he rises up the Autobot ranks, his brothers join him.
A normal dorm for lower ranked soldiers would be a small hab with room for nothing more than a bunk bed and a berthside table. But due to his unique circumstances, Prowl is often given what would usually be an officers' or a conjunx's room, ones that are a bit bigger and have a private washrack.
Prowl would switch out the double berth for a set of bunk beds that him and Smokescreen would use whilst an extra cot would be brought in for Bluestreak. Though they all find themselves snuggled together on Prowl's bottom bunk more often than not.
The slightly bigger space would also allow room for Bluestreak to play with his ever growing toy collection that his older brothers would find around abandoned cities.
Despite the war, Prowl makes sure his brothers keep up with their schooling, heavily vetting any mechs on base willing to help, though he usually delivers their sessions himself.
Prowl also ensures to teach them about Praxus, sharing its history, it's ancients legends and the language of doorwing-speak, to ensure the survival of their people's culture. In particular Prowl shows them how to care for singing crystals, a few of which he had taken with him to Iacon, and as such had been saved from the destruction of their home.
Prowl had never been interested in cooking before the war, too busy with his enforcer work to do have time to down more than a pre-made cube, if he even had the time to do that! But he reads that spending time with making food is beneficial for a sparklings' development as it teaching them self reliance and allows them to develop their bonds by spending time together. Prowl finds that he enjoys following the instructions of recopies, treating them like battle plans that at times, as he can adapt them based on new information such as if something needs a different amount or a different ingredient. He makes sure to make traditional Praxian recipes. Bluestreak and Smokescreen enjoy spending time with their brother and decorating treats!
Prowl and Smokescreen also make sure to tell stories about their Creators so that Bluestreak doesn't forget them. Bluestreak appreciates this, though as he grows up, he starts to see Prowl more as his Creator.
Since Bluestreak is still so young, and Prowl doesn't want to foster any resentment between his brothers by making Smokescreen babysit all the time, Bluestreak usually accompanies Prowl most places, often entertaining himself in Prowl's office by playing with his toys, rambling away or napping on Prowl's knee whilst the mech is on space-zoom calls. Bluestreak even joins Prowl on mission briefs at times when Prowl can't find a sitter, sitting on his hip whilst Prowl delivers battle plans.
Prowl still struggles to see the point in make believe play, so when Bluestreak asks him to play with his toys, Prowl would lay them out as people from one of his battle plans so they could act out the battle. At first Prowl was annoyed by Bluestreak coming up with outlandishly impossible ways for his soldiers to win, like one of them being able to transform into a magical mermech to save the day. But then Prowl was able to be inspired by these out of the box suggestions to think of real world solutions, such as having a mech with a submarine alt mode, carry mechs underwater so they could conduct a sneak attack. This finally made him understand the benefit of make believe play. He also may or may not have used some of Bluestreak's ideas in actual battle plans.
Wanting to help but not being old enough to fight, Smokescreen often acts at Prowl's personal assistant, delivering reports around base and having fun telling people they can't come into Prowl's office without an appointment. And whilst hanging around in Tactics, Smokescreen learns more about the skills a tactician needs. He also learns about how best to sneak around, other mechs often ignoring him due to age, learning gossip that he reports back to Prowl on.
Smokescreen also regularly beats the older mechs on base at cards. These mechs then complain to Prowl, who tells them that their loss is due to their "skill issues".
Prowl says the same thing when they loose to Bluestreak at darts.
Smokescreen takes advantage of this, often betting that bots can't wing against his baby brother. Thinking its easy shanix, other mechs think they'll win easily against a sparkling. They were wrong. Smokescreen also takes advantage of Bluestreak's cuteness to get mechs to spill things they otherwise wouldn't to rig his gossip betting rings. Bluestreak enjoys any opportunity to hang out with his brother! And proving bots who underestimate him wrong!
Even when they were younger, Smokescreen would often explain social situations to Prowl. This happens more often now that Prowl frequently butts heads with his incompetent superiors. So Smokescreen gives him advice on how to not call them idiots, and also on how to not come across as an arsehole to other mechs on base. And Bluestreak uses his slingshot skills to shoot rotted energon at mechs who say mean things about Prowl, disappearing into the vents before they figure out who hit them.
Both make sure to remind Prowl to recharge and refuel, often bringing him his fuel when he forgets.
Despite his busy schedule, Prowl makes sure to include in that schedule, time for them to all spend together. This is usually in the evening where they play board games or watch holos. Prowl also ensures to make a rota, so that each of them get to chose something different. Bluestreak likes to watch animated adventures, Smokescreen over the top action, while Prowl likes historical dramas.
Praxian wings are very sensitive, so only those considered family are allowed to touch another's wings. Prowl helps to show Smokescreen and Bluestreak how to clean and green each others wings. Again Prowl schedules regular times for this important communal activity.
Due to his tactical genius, Prowl quickly rises up the ranks soon joining Autobot command. There weren't many other sparklings on the other bases, most sent to specific safe camps to be cared for. But Prowl knows how important it is for a sparklings development to socialise with other sparklings. So he organises play dates with the creations of those also in High Command. Such as the half feral twins that Ironhide and Chromia had saved from a gladiator pit, and the orphaned yellow sparkling that the Prime himself had adopted in the aftermath of the Decepticons first attack.
Sideswipe and Sunstreaker are a little older than Bluestreak whilst Bumblebee is a little younger. But they all soon become fast friends, each of them being protective of the other. Bluestreak standing up to anyone who treats the twins like dangerous animals, whilst they are willing to fight anyone who comments on Bluestreak's rambles. All of them fighting anyone who would pick on little Bumblebee for his small size.
It does Prowl some good as well to have other guardians to talk too. The crew of the Ark all coming together as a village to help with the raising of the sparklings.
And In Autobot high command, the three of them also meet the Head of Special Operations, Jazz.
Smokescreen looks up to Jazz, wanting to be as suave and skilled as him when he grows up. Noticing Smokescreen's own skilled, Jazz makes sure to teach him some of his own tricks when spying for other mech's tells.
Jazz sends the sparklings on their own secret spy missions, showing them how to use the vents to steal hot rust sticks from the Ark's kitchens.
Jazz also always listens to Bluestreak's ramblings and introduces him to blues music.
Of course the one who ends up spending the most time with the saboteur is Prowl.
Despite some initial misunderstandings, the pair soon become a deadly efficient team, their respective skills balancing each other perfectly. This soon blossoms into a friendship, Jazz making the effort to understand Prowl's sensitive sensors, whilst also managing to bring the usually solitary mech out of his shell. Bluestreak and Smokescreen also appreciate that Jazz reminds Prowl to recharge and refuel when they are too busy too.
Thanks to his days as a Cultural Investigator, Jazz has a copy of some Praxian folk music, and remembered the steps to the traditional dance that goes with it. Held in Jazz's arms, listening to the mech's song echoing in his singing crystals as he shows his siblings a part of his people, Prowl falls in love.
Smokescreen and Bluestreak quickly realise their brother's crush. They try to give Prowl advice on how to ask Jazz out, or just try to set the pair up themselves. However Prowl worries that by pursuing a relationship, he is neglecting his duties as a guardian. But his brothers know Prowl is already doing more than enough. And after everything he's sacrificed for them, they want their brother to be happy.
But Jazz beats them to the punch by asking Prowl out first.
Jazz soon becomes a bonus older brother, someone Smokescreen and Bluestreak can talk to. Fitting seamlessly into their family as he joins them for their scheduled family nights.
As soon as he reaches his final frame, Smokescreen signs up to join the Autobots. Prowl wishes his little brother would not put himself in danger, be understands why Smokescreen wants to defeat the force that destroyed their home.
At Autobot Academy, Smokescreen roommates with a slightly older mech named Devcon, the pair becoming fast friends as they combine their gambling skills to swindle most of their fellow cadets out if their shanix. The pair become each other's first attempt at a relationship. Devcon agrees in the Autobot cause, but is against the rules and regulations of being part of the Autobot ranks. So after graduation, he decides to hunt down Decepticons on his own as a bounty hunter. He asks Smokescreen to join him, but Smokescreen declines, saying that he is unable to leave his brothers.
Instead Smokescreen rises up the ranks of Tactics. Prowl couldn't be more proud.
Smokescreen still sporadically sees Devcon. Whenever the bounty hunter is on base for a job, the pair will try to meet up, Smokescreen often volunteering to be the one to meet Devcon off world when Tactics need to employ the bounty hunter's skillset. And they are always willing to help each other out, sharing intel so Devcon can catch his targets and the Autobots can stay ahead of the Decepticons. They're not in a relationship, so they're not exclusive, but they know they can trust the other above all else.
As Bluestreak develops into an adult, so does his feelings towards Sunstreaker, eventually asking the mech out himself.
Prowl is as forough in their sexual education as he is with every other aspect of their eviction. Smokescreen and Bluestreak find these lessons to he extremely awkward even though they know they are important.
Bluestreak also signs up the day he enters his final frame, scoring the highest mark in shooting, beating Prowl's own record. Prowl couldn't be more proud.
Prowl promises that no one would ever find their frames if either Devcon or Sunstreaker hurt his brothers. And they know the tactician is telling the truth. Especially with Jazz by his side.
During negotiations to end the war, both Prowl and Bluestreak find out that they are carrying.
Prowl worries that he is too much of "unfeeling emotionless drone" to be a good Creator. Smokescreen and Bluestreak reassure him that he has already done such a great job raising them so they know that be will be an amazing Creator. Prowl starts crying.
When Bluestreak first tells them that's he's carrying, Prowl's first thought is "But that's impossible, you're just a sparkling." Then his processor reminds him that Bluestreak has been an adult and been conjunxed for years. Once again he starts crying.
Prowl and Bluestreak, along with their conjunxes settle back in Cybertron, helping to rebuild their society, including Praxus. The pair of them pass on Praxian traditions to their sparklings.
After the war ends, Smokescreen finally joins Devcon to travel the galaxy. Though he still makes sure to make frequent trips home, still making sure to join in family night via space-zoom. When there are finally no more Deception rogues to track down, the pair settle back on Cybertron with the other Datsuns. Both Smokescreen and Devcon join Prowl to serve in the newly reformed enforcers.
Bluestreak opens an arcade, complete with bowling alley and laser tag, creating a space where the next generation can have fun without the threat of war. Sunstreaker helps with running it when he isn't creating his latest art exhibition. Sideswipe helps too whilst his Conjunx Strongarm is an enforcer alongside Prowl. Prowl tells Strongarm that she could do better.
Even as the three brothers live their own adult lives, they still have their regularly scheduled family nights, these sessions having grown to accommodate the many mechs who over the years have grown close enough to call family.
And by the time their own sparklings are all grown up, the Crystal Gardens of Praxus once again sing with the songs of their people.
{An aligned strongsideblade valveplug where Windblade and Strongarm finally get the chance to humble Sideswipe}
{Warnings for: dom/sub undertones, attempted sensory deprivation, bondage, gags, mild edging, humiliation kink, kink exploration, safe words and safe word use, safe sane and consensual, canonical claustrophobia, minor panic attack tw, sort of brat taming, the girls put Sideswipe in the cuck chair for a minute because it’s funny and they deserve to make out sloppy style in peace, I love domineering women, I like my arrogant fictional men pathetic and whiny in bed}
Sideswipe was notorious for his brashness, taunting, and tendency to dive helm first into every fight he could find— often to his own detriment and those around him. He wasn’t the type to sit still or take orders without at least leaving a snarky comment in his wake. He was loud, fast, and a bit arrogant, which only seemed to be complimented by his flashy alt mode and weapons choice.
One paradoxical thing about him, however, was how much he enjoyed being bossed around. Specifically by pretty femmes who could effectively wrestle him into submission and verbally tease him right back. He loathed to admit it out loud, but it made his engine rev like only racing usually could.
Windblade and Strongarm finding out about this had to have been simultaneously one of the worst and best things to ever happen to him.
Sideswipe moaned quietly as Windblade’s digits traced swirls all across his heated chassis, teasing in a way that was quickly driving him mad.
“Windyyyyyyy,” he whined, fighting against the stasis cuffs on his wrists behind his back and the spreader bar between his knees, “C’mon, it’s been hours now! Let me overlo-oooooh…”
A long moan cut him off, hips bucking without his input when those slim digits slid down to his exposed array and continued toying with his valve. At this point, his entire array was throbbing in time with the rapid pulse of his spark and the arousal was becoming almost painful.
“Actually, it’s barely been an hour,” Strongarm so helpfully corrected, smirking down at him, “But that’s certainly a record for you, I’m sure.”
He opened his intake to retort, bantering like the two always did, only for the police bot to sneak a gag behind his denta and snap it into place with an ominous click. That didn’t completely stop him from filing a complaint though, fixing an indignant grunt and pointed glare on Strongarm in retaliation. It didn’t last long as Windblade circled his anterior node and made his entire lower body tense in pleasure.
“There. I’d say you’re prepped enough,” the jet smiled slyly down at Sideswipe, walking her messy digits up his abdomen and chassis until she reached the newly placed gag, “What’d’you think, ‘slick’?”
As if messing up his fresh wax and polish wasn’t enough, she spread his own lubricant across his derma, letting the scent of his arousal enter his olfactory sensors. He couldn’t stop the rev of his high powered engine or the sudden spike in temperature within his internal systems. He wiggled, turning his helm defiantly only to be met with Strongarm’s firm servo forcing him to look them in the optics.
“Oh, he’s ready alright,” the police bot assured on his behalf with a lighted hearted roll of the optics, an uncharacteristically mischievous smirk gracing her faceplate, “He’s been spacey and all over the place since we talked about this a few cycles ago.~”
Optics flared wide in embarrassment at being exposed like that, he yelled behind the gag, making his displeasure at such a betrayal very well known. He even thrashed a little to get the point across, though it didn’t really do much beyond scraping the paint on his wrists.
He was stilled by the soft yet steady servo of Windblade, who chuckled mirthfully. ‘Sparks sake, that sound by itself shouldn’t have made his neglected spike twitch so hard.
“Oh really?” she raised an optic ridge, leaning down so her faceplate was mere inches from his own, “Good to know.~”
Despite having been the one to nervously suggest this whole thing and how he was definitely getting off to it, he was beginning to slightly regret giving the two so much power over him. He liked being able to move freely and give just as much slag back, but the prospect of being forced to sit still and look pretty for someone else’s enjoyment piqued the interest of the small masochistic part of himself he had supposedly left behind with his criminal record.
With a chaste kiss on his nasal ridge to tickle his sensors, Windblade and Strongarm glanced at each other and switched places, the jet sitting back on her heel struts above his helm and the police bot making her way between his stabilizers. Oddly enough, despite Strongarm’s blunt digits, she knew how to be incredibly gentle with them, lightly caressing up and down his thigh guards to entice his legs to fall open further. At the same time, Windblade massaged at his jaw hinges and temples to guide him further into a relaxed position.
Groaning quietly, Sideswipe let his helm fall back and his optics shutter as the touches lulled him into a strange sense of security in spite of the constricting circumstances. Normally, he hated being stuck in stasis cuffs and unable to transform and drive away at a moment’s notice, but now, it got a completely new reaction from his frame as they continued coaxing small noises from him.
He was brought out of it by a rhythmic tap to his forehelm and he opened his optics to meet Windblade’s sultry gaze. He glanced off to the side, catching sight of the thick, dark mesh cloth dangling in her grasp. His entire frame immediately tensed back up at the sight of it, his intake suddenly going dry. Windblade seemed to catch his change in energy just as quickly as it happened, her free servo rubbing reassuring shapes into his chassis.
“We don’t have to use the blindfold if you aren’t up for it,” she reminded quietly, giving him an out.
Sideswipe, unfortunately though expectedly, didn’t accept the offer. He was never one to back down from a challenge.
:.What, afraid I’ll fall asleep on you two?.: he joked, though his tone wasn’t nearly as aloof as he tried to make it sound, :.I can handle anything you throw at me.:
Windblade, though unconvinced, obliged and carefully tied the blindfold in place. Darkness overtook his visual field, leaving him with only a few of his other senses to go off of. Sure, the sensor suite imbedded throughout his whole frame still gave him some data to work with, but it wasn’t nearly as direct or precise as his optics.
He forced a deep vent through his frame, trying to get his struts and pistons to relax like they had before, but it was much more of a struggle now. As he tried his best to remain lax, his partners continued their ministrations, peppering in a few kisses here and there to encourage the noises from before. But they didn’t come— in fact, the only noises he was making were strained and almost silent, his vocalizer shorting out as the darkness enveloping his vision somehow grew darker.
His chassis tightened, vents whining as they struggled inexplicably against the stress flooding his systems. No matter what he tried, his frame refused to listen, instead becoming more and more uncontrollable in his growing discomfort and fear. His servos fought against the stasis cuffs to no avail, clinking but not budging despite his growing hysterics.
“Sideswipe?” he heard Strongarm call out to him from a great distance, “What’s wrong?”
He opened his intake only to find it blocked, which hadn’t been a problem at all before but now it simply added to the ongoing fight with himself. He whimpered behind the gag regardless, hoping his partners would get the hint and at least remove the blindfold.
“Slick?”
He arched off the berth, a high whine escaping him as he began writhing in a desperate attempt to escape the constricting darkness. Finally biting the bullet, he resorted to comms.
:.RED.:
:.Get it off get it off get it off!.:
In a frenzy, Windblade tore the blindfold off with a loud rip, blinding Sideswipe for a moment but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Relief washed over him as his vision returned, a choked sob escaping him as his vents heaved. At this point, he didn’t even care how pathetic he sounded as his systems cycled down from the minor panic attack he’d just experienced.
He could vaguely make out his partner’s voices speaking to him, hushed and as calm as possible, but he couldn’t quite make out the exact words they were saying until he had manually forced his processor to slow down.
“Sideswipe?” Strongarm caught his attention, voice uncharacteristically soft as she leaned over him to meet his optics.
After another long klik, he finally managed to focus long enough to respond.
:.I thought… I could handle it.:
The admission was so hesitant, so vulnerable, he almost instantly regretted saying it. Luckily, he didn’t have to feel that way for long.
“Easy slick,” Windblade assured, a hand slowly petting his faceplate to help calm him, “If you want to stop, we’ll stop.”
“Did the blindfold make you claustrophobic?” Strongarm asked with uncommon gentleness, “You mentioned once before that small places make you feel… trapped.”
Sideswipe, not wanting to outright confirm such a fear, turned his helm into Windblade’s hand.
“Would you like to stop?”
:.It was just the blindfold that was the problem.: he explained, vulnerability still bleeding into his EM field despite his best efforts, :.I wanna keep going.:
His partners hesitated, sharing a look with each other. He was starting to hate when they did that because he swore they were somehow speaking a silent language no one else knew— and he wasn’t in on it.
“If you’re sure,” Windblade leaned down, her faceplate a single ventilation away from his derma, “We have all night.~”
Sideswipe, expecting some semblance of a kiss, tried his best to lift his helm and meet her halfway. Instead, Windblade smirked devilishly, grabbed the back of Strongarm’s helm, and crashed their derma together. Both Sideswipe and Strongarm were left surprised, but the police bot quickly melted into it, bringing a servo up to cup Windblade’s face and guide their kiss deeper.
Before coming to Earth and finding long-term partners, Sideswipe likely would never have understood the appeal of kissing. Thank the Primes he understood now!
Unfortunately, he preferred being the one kissed rather than being forced to just watch, spectating his partners as they slotted together perfectly. He whined for their attention, wriggling slightly. It didn’t work however, the two femmes instead becoming sloppy and making noises specifically to tease him. Arching his spinal strut, he pleaded to them with his optics, trying everything he could to get their servos and derma back on his frame.
Despite all his enticing efforts, the two continued to ignore him— and damn it all, if it didn’t rev his engine in a pleasantly weird way. This was definitely something he was going to think about before recharging, that’s for sure.
Finally, the two separated slowly, leaving a lingering peck or two as they did just to rub it in further. Primus sake, he wanted to join so bad and yet another part of him wanted them to completely ignore him and just go at it.
“Enjoying yourself, punk?~”
He couldn’t stop the high whine of his fans spinning faster, biting into the gag to hopefully muffle his vocalizer at least. In all his functioning, he’d never felt so conflicted and aroused at the same time.
“Don’t worry, we haven’t forgotten about you,” Windblade cooed, both servos caressing slowly up and down his chassis, “Just wanted to have a little fun— you like fun, don’t you?”
Sideswipe nodded eagerly, oral solvent escaping around the gag as he tried to hum an affirmative. The display of desperation made Windblade laugh, which urged Strongarm into a chuckle of her own as she shuffled back between his separated stabilizers until she got comfortable. Her codpiece rubbed lightly against his exposed equipment every time she leaned down to lathe attention across his abdomen, pulling weak noises from him in the process.
He unshuttered his optics— when had he closed them?— at the sound of a soft snik to find Windblade on her knee guards hovering over his faceplate, valve glistening with lubricant and making Sideswipe’s intake water further. He tried to implore her through his field only to be interrupted by Strongarm opening her spike panel. He knew it was her spike panel without looking— her thick equipment brushing between his wet folds was all the confirmation he needed.
“Ready?”
Windblade lifted his helm, unlocking the gag and letting the mech work the ache out of his jaw hinges.
“Forged ready,” he rasped out, never taking his optics off of the prize just barely out of his reach.
That seemed to be all the confirmation Windblade needed. The moment her valve was within reach, he began kissing at her folds and lapping up lubricant, a groan of relief leaving him when he finally managed to kiss her node. A small zap of charge licked at his sensors and it urged him on even as Strongarm slowly sank into his own neglected valve.
“That’s it,” Windblade encouraged him as she ground down on his intake, “Keep at it, slick.”
Sideswipe moaned, more than happy to oblige by an order for once. His moan pitched higher at the end when Strongarm thrust up against his ceiling node, his valve fluttering in response and pulling a soft groan from the cadet.
Between the two femmes, sucking on a pulsing node and a thick spike nestled in his valve, Sideswipe believed he may just offline as the happiest mech in the known universe, which he only believed more strongly when Strongarm’s thrusting hastened and inevitably sent the speedster into an overload that overclocked his ventilation system and made his engine rev almost violently. The rough vibrations from his frame coaxed Strongarm over the edge alongside him with a surprised gasp and urged Windblade to chase her own pleasure harder.
Still high on the crest of an overload, Sideswipe redoubled his efforts in eating the jet out, humming long and low directly against her valve rim the way he knew she liked. And with a shuddering invent, the waves of a soft overload flooded through her systems, leaving her wings trembling. Primus, he wanted to run his servos along the sensitive appendages and let his derma wander all across them.
“Sweet Solus,” Strongarm panted to herself, grabbing a microfiber cloth from her subspace, “As much as I love doing this, I hate the paint transfers. And all the fluids.”
Windblade carefully lifted away from Sideswipe’s faceplate, much to his disappointment, and chuckled knowingly.
“I’m sure it doesn’t help that you don’t have any red in your paint job.”
Strongarm huffed as she wiped away the worst of the mess, deciding she would have to visit the car wash later in order to properly scrub herself down. When she was done with that, she began doing the same for Sideswipe, who had remained uncharacteristically quiet. He was usually like that after a particularly good overload, but it never hurt to make sure.
“You alright Sideswipe?” Strongarm asked as she worked.
“Yeah, yeah, just… give me a klik…”
His vents were still running hot but definitely much quieter than before and he seemed plenty content to let his partner’s deal with the mess. In all fairness though, they weren’t the ones with their servos literally tied behind their backs.
As if reading his mind, Windblade gently knocked on Strongarm’s chassis, to which the police bot opened her subspace and gave no reaction when Windblade reached in and took the key to the cuffs. She helped Sideswipe sit up so she could unlock the restraints, watching him test his wrist joints for a moment, then stored the cuffs and keys in her own subspace for safe keeping. They were only false cuffs, so Strongarm didn’t need to risk mixing them up with her real cuffs.
“Well, now we know what we won’t be doing next time,” Strongarm grimaced at the sodden cloth before pulling out a new one and handing it to Windblade, “I’ll update the sheet.”
Sideswipe groaned, still lying on his back, “Do you always have to make everything boring with lists?”
Strongarm rolled her optics but was interrupted by Windblade before she could retort back.
“It’s important to keep track of these things,” the jet pointed out, “But maybe next time, we can keep you gagged while skeptibot and I have some real fun.~”
Despite the offended splutter that escaped him, his fans kicking back into higher gear gave him away instantly.
