FUCK THE TRUCK

[optout]

WHO: Optimus Prime and WHOEVER
WHERE: City and BEYOND
WHEN: SEX POLLEN TIME
WHAT: This is what you wanted guys the chance to fuck Optimus Fucking Prime. Non smut is available too.
WARNINGS: SMUT SMUT SMUT TRUCK FUCKIN


[AROUND THE CITY.]

Something felt off, but it's one of those things where you don't really -know- what's off. You wake up one day and suddenly..you're far more energetic and restless than usual. And it's enough for Optimus to go out and about to wander. Not that it's doing much good--the exercise (if you can call it that) and the change of visual stimuli doesn't do a thing to calm his behavior.

What was this feeling?

It's arousal, Optimus. You know, that thing you absolutely NEVER FEEL because you legit forgot what it's like to do the do.


[WILDCARD]

[I legit forgot all my prompts so if you have something you want to do I'm totally okay with this.]

Comments

[optout]

The cold reply catches him by surprise, even by Prowl's standards. The bot was cynical, usually, but it was never this bad. It seems personal now, the way he's taking shots at Optimus's spark. His eyes become more hurt withe each passing comment, unsure of how to really respond.

How did Prowl WANT him to respond?

"I came to you as a friend, not as the leader of the Autobots." His voice is softer, almost humbled. "Prowl," he starts, eyes flicking up to him. He won't beat around the bush--it never worked with him anyway.

"If I've done something--"

[pffft]

"If you've done something-" he snarls, a new spark of fury erupting through his entire body. A scathing line of venom curls on his tongue, words meant to do far more than hurt ready to be shouted down to the soft-speaking Prime in front of him.

But his self control reigns him in, the calculating part of his mind reminding him that Optimus might not know what he's to do in the future. The anger seeps from his body, and a heavy fatigue enters his frame.

With a disgusted curl of the lip, he looks away,"I doubt you'd understand."

[optout]

If Optimus had been oblivious to Prowl's anger before, it's clear as day now. His eyes spread wide, almost reflecting Prowl himself in them as he watches, spark aching in both morbid curiosity and fear. Was this all about Bumblebee? The trial?

Maybe further back. Maybe how he left Cybertron in their hands, respecting the wishes of the NAILs. Optimus wasn't perfect, and he'd be the first one to admit that. But this...this felt so personal. It wasn't like Prowl to have this tone with him--he'd been snappy, even a bit chastising towards him, but there was never so much hatred put into those words. Despite it all, Prowl looked out for him, and he'd always done the same.

What...happened?

Before he can even address it, escalate it even, Prowl slumps in his makeshift chair.

"Try me."

And he means it. If Prowl's willing to lash this out at him, he had to have done something. And it'd be something he'd probably do again. Which...honestly...scares him a little underneath all that plating.