Finally Knockout added into my collection 😭😭💕💕💕
No! Not the Paint Job!!!??
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH😭😭
😆😆😆😆😆😆😆
Just kidding he's unharmed!
☆☆Bee vs Knockout showdown???☆☆
Oh shit
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something i REALLY want TFONE to do, is give us some Megatron & Soundwave scenes. because, like- would it not be delicious if Soundwave, Megatron's famously loyal confidant, is the one who swayed Megatron to the cause?
like just. imagine it. little scenes of them talking to each other, D-16 going from agitated and wary, to listening and maybe even agreeing. finding little things in common, and Soundwave calmly pointing out injustices, not quite manipulating D-16, as much as leading him where he was always meant to go
just. please give us some Soundwave & Megatron. if it's a prequel, i think we deserve the foundation for Megatron's most loyal soldier
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eden. megatron(idw) / fem!reader drabble (nsfw!)
There was a story you told him, one about disobedience. Megatron watches you on the far end of the bar, deep in conversation with Skids and Swerve, fingers working their way into the pit of a foreign, red fruit.
As your hands were trying to work past the berry's surface, rubbing across the skin — nails ready to pierce the meat — an image of you from last night flooded his processor, breathing ragged and shallow as he dives to kiss you between your thighs, servos dragging along the trembling line of your knees.
A pomegranate, that's what you called it. A strange, alien name for a strange, alien fruit. One you love so dearly. He wonders if it would come apart under your clever ministrations the way you did beneath him, whether it would be as pliant as you were under the silhouette of your shared hab suite — spread open and willing, an invitation to drink. To taste.
He could see you were starting to grow irritated, eyes flickering down to the spill you've made on the table, briefly excusing yourself from the exciting conversation erupting around you. Megatron tried not to smile to himself, somewhat amused. Surely, you would know it takes patience. As all good things come — and you were so good for him last night: You were refraining from begging him to enter you, tired of waiting, already aching from his servos. Yet you kept your composure, save for a few whines, and he was so proud of you. Obedience, after all, was the moral of the story.
Or maybe it was temptation. Megatron thinks you look divine undone, hair mussed and sticking to the side of your flushed cheeks, sweat slicking your neck. It made your body glisten under the faint light seeping in from outside past the thin, seams of the walls. At times, he needed to catch himself from being greedy, from wanting more and more from you.
How can he not? You told him it was the taste you couldn't get enough of — pomegranates are rare and sweet, almost unlike anything. He couldn't agree more, still tasting you on his glossa.
Finally, you were successful, and you lapped at your reward — a trail of ruby dripping down your chin as you tilted the shell towards your mouth. Tasting. Drinking. You told him it tasted like summer, your favorite season. Which is maybe why he's so keen on opening you up, like a flower blooming under the solstice sun. And you did, reminding him again of how he was captivated by a flower native to a foreign land. Always so kind, always so giving. Different from his metal, unyielding world. You gave him summer — different and warm.
You meet his gaze. Despite being caught, Megatron couldn't look away. He could sense your relief that the mess you've made hid the shade of red you were turning, cheeks stained as Swerve passed you a wipe, already nagging about the drying blotches of red all over his table. In the story, Eve was tempted — seduced into biting the forbidden fruit. And as your tongue darts to lick the remaining sweetness down your bare arm, he thinks of you as the serpent. Vixen. Teasing.
He clenched his dentas. Megatron's mouth suddenly feels wet, flooding with want.
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Quirkless college AU where Keigo is your annoying teachers assistant for one of your majors classes. He never seems to give you that A you deserve, and is hellbent on going back and forth with you about every little thing. About every little grade, every little answer you submit, every little note he likes to leave on the corners of your papers. He mocks your handwriting with his own chicken scratch, even writes a ‘wtf are you trying to say???? is that supposed to say RHETORIC?????’ on one of your papers.
You wanna complain about him to your professor when it comes to his attitude and nitpicking, but the prof always just tells you to take it up with the TA yourself. And that’s exactly what the golden haired man wants, and it’s so painstakingly obvious with the way he absolutely grins when you drag your feet into his ‘office hours’ (aka him sitting in the library for the same amount of time every week).
“I was wondering when you’d ask me to round your grade up.” Keigo doesn’t even greet you, just leans back in his chair as he folds his arms over his chest. His smile grows even wider when you narrow your eyes and huff at him, snatching the chair out from across him to plop down heavily.
“Give me the grade I deserve, and not the grade that drags me here to be with you.” You’re all snaps and irritation, and Keigo loves it—eats up the way your bottom lip juts and your brows furrow down and, oh, you’re so goddamn cute when you’re annoyed.
“Go on a date with me this weekend, and I’ll change it.” Keigo blurts out with a lilt of his lips, eyes squinting when you reel back with a scoff. You stare at him for a while before answering, and he can’t help but notice how shifty your hands have gotten and how it grows harder to look him in the eye now.
“I feel like that goes against policy.” You mutter, picking at your nails before glaring through your lashes. Keigo cocks his head to the side, smiling.
“Don’t tell me you’re a goody two shoes.” He teases, tilts his head in your direction, watches the gears turning in your head as you narrow your eyes at him.
“Fine. One date, and you give me extra credit on the last paper.” You bargain with him, glaring at his hand when he holds it out for you to shake. You pause before you take it, frowning when Keigo grins wider and leans across the table.
“Looks like you’ve got yourself a deal there, birdie.”
And after that, it becomes routine for you both. Keigo enters the most foul grade he can until you show up at his dorm room furious and seething, all so he can pull you in to his space and kiss your puffy cheeks while you enter your own grade in the system. He’s a bit of a jackass, but you think it’s all worth it, especially when he shows you the expansive winged tattoo on his back and the quickest and most efficient way to do eyeliner. He’s good for something, you guess.
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