I forgot

• Looking up from your book at the noise, you groan because the raccoons are back and they’ve tipped over the trash can. It’s late and you just want to ignore it and deal with it in the morning, but there might be garbage strewn across the yard by then. Standing, you tug on a coat, grab a flashlight, and a rifle just in case it’s a bear, not cute little trash pandas raiding your garbage. You’d left the barn door open apparently and you find the can turned over, but its contents not scattered everywhere. Maybe the sound scared them off? Setting the gun down, you right the can and turn as something shifts within the hay, rising slowly to tower over you.

• There’s a human with a weapon. Here to hurt him, because everyone does. They always do. It hurts to transform and reach for the human, but his injuries throw him off balance and he crashes down, knocking the little organic sprawling with him. And you’re screaming at him, your fear jangling through him making him curl forward, servos over his head. Waiting for a blow that doesn’t come. “Not hurt Waspinator?”

• Hyperventilating as the monster lifts its big head slightly, you can’t even scream. Voice overlayed with slow buzz, the thing had spoken. It’s gigantic, seizing your ankle when you try to crawl away and dragging you back, looming over you. All you can do is hold up your hands in supplication as those awful mandibles work and those glowing optics stare. “Don’t hurt me.”

• This is new. Someone afraid of him? It should make him feel powerful to be the one feared for once, but it just makes him feel oddly ill. Sitting up and gingerly touching the wound in his torso sluggishly bleeding energon, he makes a buzzing click of his mandibles. “No hurt,” he says as you scramble to your hands and knees to put some distance between you. “Already hurt,” he adds tiredly, and you hesitate in your retreat. Staring at the energon welling through his servos. You rake a hand through your hair, expression twisting.

• All you have to do is run like hell. That thing, Waspinator it had called itself, is hurt too badly to chase you. Maybe. But there’s something about its defeated tone that makes you feel guilty. This isn’t your problem. Big and scary was already hurt when he crashed in your barn. So why do you go over to the workbench and retrieve a roll of duct tape? He hisses at you, rearing back when you try to touch him and you freeze. “Cut that out,” you snap and his antenna flatten back. Not hurt Waspinator? You’d guessed with the way he’d worded that question that maybe he’s used to being hurt. That he’d fold if you acted aggressive and you were right. It’s unsettling to see a giant, metal death bug cringe like a puppy being scolded. But he doesn’t make a peep as you find the hole in his metal side and gingerly tape the leaking lines, trying to not think too closely on what you’re touching or that your hands are inside him rooting around. “Waspinator, right?” The way he’s just staring down at you with those wide glowing optics just cements in your head that he’s a big, really ugly puppy.

• Gasping as you’re tossed into a cage, you curl up in a corner farthest from your captor as he lifts a fist, snarling alien gibberish and there’s an answering roar from the pit. Just want to go home. To wake up from this nightmare as you draw your limbs up against yourself, your ragged breathing loud in your own ears. Hear the snarls and roars, the violent crash of metal against metal from below. And the screams. Maybe they’re fighting for the right to rip you to pieces. Maybe you’re food. Shuddering and stressed, you dry heave.

• Wielding his drill and his servos, his denta, he doesn’t hold back, because his opponents won’t either. And above it all, the aristocracy watches the savage fights and gossip, sipping energon when he’s starving, they all are. Barely getting by. Hates them so much. Imagines they’re his opponents, that it’s their energon being spilled. Their plating crumpling under his fists. Because one day, it will be. Everything shifts, becomes a heated, red haze of violence and survival. Snarling as he lifts his head, realizing there are no more opponents. That he’s won.

• Screaming as you’re dragged from your cage, you fight like a mad thing as you’re shoved into a different box. Swinging freely over the pit. And you scream even louder when it drops sickeningly. Realizing you’re being given to those monsters. That you’re going to die here and no one will even know what happened to you. Scrambling into the corner when your cage hits the ground hard enough to make you cut your lip with your teeth. Can’t breathe as huge peds appear and a hand grabs your cage, lifting and tipping it. Trying to grab at the bars, you scream when you slide out and land in the monster’s palm. He’s just staring down at you, his face marked up with red paint, his frame spattered in something neon and faintly luminous as you hyperventilate and he clears his vents loudly, servos curling around you as he flashes his denta in a snarl.

• What’s he supposed to even do with you? If he tries to turn you loose, you’ll starve. Or get killed horrifically by another bored gladiator. He’s not even sure if the overseer that gifted you will bother to provide him food for you. Most likely he’d given you as a prize expecting you to die quickly. Venting tiredly as you tremble nonstop, chirping softly while you squirm around like you’re trying to get free. Like you’re so terrified you might throw yourself to your death from his hands. How’s he supposed to keep you alive? Maybe ending you quickly would be the kindest option? Can feel the frantic tattoo of your heart as he closes his servos around you and carries you to the communal berths for gladiators as your chirping gets louder.

You glance up from your book to see him leaning in the doorway, bending at the waist to peer out onto the balcony at you.

“Just reading,” you shrug, waving the novel at him and using your thumb to keep your page. “Where have you been all day?”

He takes a long swig from the bottle, red liquid dripping down his chin. “I had meetings.”

Your eyes drift down from his glistening lips, down to his white shirt that hangs open, your gaze settling on the dark purple wine stains that mix with oxidizing blood spray. One of his meetings must not have gone according to plan.

Doflamingo seems to take notice of your concerned glances and sets the bottle of wine down on the concrete, stripping his shirt off and tossing it to the side as he steps onto the balcony. The early evening sun, in its orange and fuchsia hues, highlights the tensile beauty of his musculature, your eyes drawn to the bunching muscles of his shoulders and the corrugated leanness of his abdomen. His jaw is tight and the shadows dance on sharp cheekbones and an even sharper nose. He is a striking tragic figure, magnificent in his melancholy.

He saunters forward towards the balcony railing and pauses there, staring out at the setting sun, his hands hanging at his side, one fist gripping the neck of the wine bottle with such shaking force that you brace yourself for the inevitable pop of glass shattering all over the balcony. Instead, he simply looks at you from behind crimson lenses, his eyebrows relaxed, mouth fixed in some approximation of a pout. He takes a final swig, the last few drops landing on his outstretched tongue, before he whips the bottle off the terrace and you hear the faint tinkling of glass on the ground below.

Doflamingo pauses and turns, his large hand gripping the doorframe as he heads inside. “Come in here, pet. Your king is lonely.”

The low, measured tone of his voice was at least somewhat reassuring; he’s in a mood, but one that doesn’t seem to pose any threat to you—not yet, anyway. You inhale unsteadily and set your bookmark in your novel, pushing your chair back, when you hear him grumble from inside the bedroom, “And take that cheap thing off while you’re at it.”

“Cheap?” You scrunch your nose at him as you fiddle with the tie of the soft pink robe that moves over your form like liquid. “You told me this was the finest silk in all of Dressrosa.”

“It’s not nice enough for you,” he mumbles as he sits on the edge of the bed, carefully removing his loafers. “I’ll buy you something better. Something like you deserve.”

“Oh, is that right?” you tease as you stand before him, slowly letting the robe slip down your shoulders. “And what does your little pet deserve?”

He cackles softly as he extends his arms out wide and tilts his head backwards. “Why—only the world, my dear.”

A satisfied smirk works its way up your mouth as you walk up to him, slotting yourself in between his spread legs, as he grabs you and yanks you against him. You reach up and carefully remove his sunglasses; he flinches every time, no matter how gentle you are, no matter how lovingly you touch him, no matter whether you tell him you’re going to do it or not. The frames settle on the bedside table with a soft clack, as you reach up and place your hands on his shoulders—even sitting, he overwhelms you.

Doflamingo’s large, warm hands settle on the small of your back, and he leans down, pressing his forehead against yours. You slide your hands up the sinew of his shoulders, feeling the tendons in his neck twitching with your soft movements; your fingers lightly trace along the lines of his jaw, and a soft puff of air leaves his lips, the smell of that cheap wine still lingering on his breath.

“You okay, baby?” you whisper as your hands move to the back of his neck, fingers starting to card through his blonde hair.

“Don’t ‘baby’ me,” he mutters, his words beginning to slur. “You make it sound like I’m some pathetic thing that needs your pity.”

He slides one hand up to your face, his palm engulfing you, as he captures your lips with a ravenous urgency, as though he has something to prove to you—that he’s not weak, not deserving of your condescension or scorn. He is the King of Dressrosa, the Heavenly Demon, a god manifested on earth.

As he pulls away from your kiss, shining threads of saliva connecting you like his strings, he flits his eyes over your face. “Don’t make that face, you look dreadful.”

“You taste dreadful,” you grouse exaggeratedly in response, wiping at your lips. “That wine is so acidic.”

A momentary flash of viciousness lights up his eyes, fading just as quickly as it appeared, as though your possible fates quickly ran before his eyes. “Is that so, little bird?”

You pause, chewing on your lip as you analyze him, deciding how far you’re willing to push your luck today. “It’s bitter. I don’t like it.”

“I see.” He moves to stand and you back up, his towering height frighteningly apparent. Doflamingo  bends down to you, picks you up by the waist with a frightening ease and sets you on the edge of the bed. He kneels before you, grasps you by the ankles and slowly, achingly, kisses up the length of one leg, then the other, before setting them upon his broad shoulders. “Lay back—let me get that taste out of my mouth.”

He splays his hand between your breasts and presses you back onto the plush bedspread as he licks a slow, greedy stripe up your slit. The low whine that falls from your lips is all the encouragement he needs to devour you, and he begins to lap at your cunt voraciously, no patience for careful licks or gentle kisses—he wants to consume you.

His long tongue pistons in and out of your dripping hole, his thumb moving to press against your swollen clit; you squirm against, the assault of sensations both overwhelming and intoxicating, but Doflamingo only grasps you harder, his fingertips sinking into your soft flesh, presses his face more eagerly against you and moans wantonly against your cunt. Your hips buck of their own accord and you thrust against his face, and he pauses, pulling himself away from you long enough to offer you a smug grin, his mouth glistening with your juices.

“You’re so needy, sweetheart,” he coos, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest.

You want to respond, spit out some biting little quip about how he is just as needy, how he clearly craves the taste of you on his tongue just as badly as you crave the warmth of his deceitful mouth, how charming it is that the king humbles himself to worship between your thighs. But the words never come, only strangled sounds of pleasure, guttural cries and aching whines, as his mouth eagerly finds your cunt once again, and he makes circles over your clit with the firm tip of his tongue.

Your fingers fumble to grip the sheets, your back arching up with every jolt of pleasure that runs through your limbs, every quiver of your muscles as the tension coils and coils inside you. Doflamingo groans long and low as he feels you tensing, knows he has you just on the precipice of pleasure, so close to the edge that it won’t be long before you’re pleading and begging, jumbled words of want and need tumbling from your trembling lips.

But he won’t make you debase yourself, not this time at least, and he slides two of his long, slender fingers inside your cunt, curling them upwards to stroke that most sensitive spot inside you as he sucks and laps at your clit. At once, air is forced from your lungs as you convulse into a chain of delicious spasms, crying out with unabashed abandon as your body is wracked with warm waves of pleasure. Doflamingo lets out a satisfied groan as you ride out your orgasm on him, your hips rolling against his sinful mouth, cunt fluttering around his fingers as they stroke your walls.

It’s only when the quivering begins to subside that he pulls himself away from you and grins, making a show of licking your slick off his lips, sucking every drop of you off his fingers as rivulets run down his tanned forearms. He stands, towering over the bed, and through bleary, tear-filled eyes you take him in—a marble-sculpted figure of a god that grants you paradise, only requiring your utter, unending devotion in return. A fair bargain, you think as you try to slow your erratic breathing.

Doflamingo leans over you, caging you in on either side with steely arms, and reclaims your mouth with a fierce and urgent kiss, his long tongue sweeping against yours, almost choking you, and you taste yourself on him, with only the faintest notes of acrid, low-priced wine left lingering. He bites at your ear and neck, teeth just grazing your pulse point before soothes your skin with gentle kisses.

“Well?” he murmurs against your collarbone. “Is the taste gone now?”

You sigh and press your lips to his temple, deciding to push your luck. “I think I still taste it a little…”

Ugh.. He'd never felt like this before.

Or at least, it'd never been this bad, so to speak. Starscream's chest heaved as he started into the mirror, brushing strands of red and black hair away from his disheveled face. His breathing had been a bit unsteady for the past few minutes, coming out in heated huffs as he clutched the edge of the bathroom sink and tried to his best to calm down. It was a vain effort, really.. He knew that much.

His entire frame felt as if it'd been set alight, and his mind was addled with muddled thoughts that he'd been trying to ignore for hours, but to no avail.. With them around, they had a nasty habit of wriggling their way right back into his already heady mind. It was odd. Starscream didn't usually have this sort of trouble with his.. Cycle, so to speak. It wasn't a random thing-- it'd start up during the fall and would sort of fluctuate, but it wasn't usually a cause of much trouble.

If he were lucky, it'd usually do no more than make him a clingy mess. He'd just want to cuddle with something or pamper his partner, perhaps smother them with kisses-- that in itself was still embarrassing, but it was nothing like this..

Starscream would usually be able to just sleep it off, had it really started to bother him.. But this? Star was about to scream. He certainly wanted to. Curl up into a tiny, winged little ball and cry? Yes, maybe. Part of him just wanted to snatch User up and-- No, calm down. Regardless, Starscream's usual cycles had never caused him this much trouble. They'd come and go. Then again, Starscream hadn't really ever had a partner during one of these.. Oh, it was tearing him asunder.

If it wasn't how mussed his hair was from the stress, it was that nasty little feeling that was steadily eating away at his chest.. His heartbeat did oh so little to quell that ache-- not that it was that high up, but it still bothered him no less.

Perhaps that was his fault, though..

After all, it wasn't as if his thoughts were any less tame. There was the way that he'd envisioned them, all sprawled out on their bed.. It was damned near sinful. How he'd wanted nothing more than to hold them, to let his hands wander every inch of those lush curves until he'd mapped them out like a constellation. The way he wanted to kiss them, to mark up that lovely neck and those gorgeous thighs. Heavens below..

Ooh, and the way that he'd wanted to bury himself between those pretty legs and just let them squish him while he--

Shut up, shut up, shut up-

Though he'd mentally barked that at himself, part of it was hissed aloud, but he couldn't bring himself to care right now. Starscream gasped under hitched breaths as he leaned down and let his hair fan out over hi. s arms, his breathing gradually getting heavier and heavier until he'd finally allowed himself to let out that quiet whimper. "Gods, I can't-" His voice trialed off as, as if on cute, his other half finally decided to chime in on this madness.

Puff

Star's now-fuzzy ears perked and flicked about at the top of his head, and he could feel his fluff-tipped tail swishing along the tiled floor like some fuzzy mop. Of course.. Urgh. Starscream's fingers struggled to avoid edging their way towards the bulge in his pajama pants, aching to palm at it in some desperate attempt to soothe himself.

Bah, not that it'd do anything..

He needed to fuck. This madness would drive him to the brink and back, if he didn't basically attempt to knock them up like some pathetic beast.. Fuck, if he didn't want to right now, though.. Curse this accursed vampirism, and-

"Star, are you okay in there?"

Those fuzzy satellites that he had the audacity to call ears perked up at the sound of their voice, and his head was quick to follow. Fuck. They were awake right now? "I.. I'm fine, darling. Just go back to sleep-"

Puff!

There came the wings, and with one little flap, he'd ended up unintentionally knocking over two or three bottles from the shelf nearby. Wait, just- Starscream could feel the black fluff frizzing up at his shoulders now, nearly as much as the hair on his head.. Was he certain that he didn't have any suppressants? Fuck fuck fuck-

Starscream hissed beneath his breath, swearing to himself as he quickly tugged open the cabinet door and searched in futile rush for what wasn't there.. What wouldn't help, at this point. Star was already this deep in. It wouldn't do--

"I'm gonna come in."

"Wait, wait! Darling, don't come-" Before he could even finish his plea, they'd pressed the door open and stepped into the bathroom. Gods, they were as pretty as ever.. Even now, standing there with that sleepy-still, but somewhat concerned look on their face. Those lovely eyes, the way his t-shirt clung to them and hung off of their shoulders? It just barely covered whatever was hugging those pretty hips, and--

aaAaa-

Oh, Star was going to scream.

"Starscream, are you okay?"

"I'm alright, darling.. I'm alright, I promise-" Starscream attempted to reason, but the way he'd stepped back and the heaviness of his breathing likely hadn’t at all been convincing. He couldn’t blame them.. Still, Starscream tensed up as they approached him, his uneasy breathing veering off into another hitch as those soft palms curled to cradle his face. Despite his better judgment, Starscream slowly melted into their touch. He can’t help it.. Even like this, an utter mess, Starscream was still a sucker for their touch.. The vampire’s shoulders slumped as User lulled him in closer and wrapped their arms around his shoulders to hold him, one of their hands carding through his hair while they hummed soft ”shh..”’s and “It’s okay. You’re okay”’s.

Ugh.. If only.

Starscream breathed out a quiet huff as he wrapped his arms around their waist and tightened them for a moment, the big bat gently pressing his face against the side of their neck in a way that made his ears flatten beneath their jaw. Not a single bite, kiss, not his usual playfulness or teasing. Nothing— all he could do was seek out just a little bit more of their comfort. Of course, Starscream is still gentle— it’s still their lover, after all. Even if every part of his stupidly heat-addled brain was begging for him to beg them to let him fill and breed them, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything more than simply hold them. ”Sweetheart, I’m not.. I can’t-” He’s stuttering again. Starscream’s breathing began to hitch again whenever their palm passes over his head again, shushing him softly as they waft their soft fingers through his messy black and red hair. It’s sweet, but somehow, only served to mess with his mind even more.

Oh, just-

Starscream’s face scrunched up for a moment, his hands doing the same at their waist. They steadily drift downwards until they meet User’s hips, dying to give them just a little squeeze. ”Shhh.. It’s okay.” They murmur. Oh, he was a far cry from it.. Not that he could bring himself past the embarrassment to explain that to them, though. He could feel the heat clouding his features, beginning to mirror the static all over the rest of his being. His body melted deeper against theirs as they held him, but then, it’d hit him.. Primus, they smell so good.. That one little whiff was enough to make his head hazy all over again. Is it perfume?.. Just their body wash, mayhaps? He tried to lie to himself. It wasn’t. ”Mmm..~” Starscream couldn’t help but groan against his partner’s neck, the sound low and almost rumbly, like an oversized cat. ”You smell wonderful, darling..” He’d murmur, unable to resist the urge to nuzzle against the space just between their neck and shoulders.

Unfortunately, it didn’t take very long for the horny bat brain to kick in. Though it was a very gentle bite, Starscream found himself trailing his lips along their jaw and back down, working his way down until he’d found a little sweet spot to nip. His teeth sank sank into them, but just as quickly retreated to avoid anything more than a light mark. He could control the venom, of course, but he didn’t want to risk hurting them. Aah-!

Goodness.. Starscream had felt them shudder and gasp, but they hadn’t pushed him away. Part of him wishes that they had, and yet.. Nip! Another just at the edge of their neck, just between there and those lovely shoulders that he was just dying to spoil and litter with his touch.

”Starscream, please.. Stop teasing, and let’s just take this to—”

That was all that he’d needed to hear. The bat practically whisked them up into his arms then and there, carrying them off towards their bedroom with an almost uncharacteristic silence, for someone who was usually so charismatic. He’d kept User tucked closely, but resisted the lingering urge to wrap his wings around them. Once they’d stepped into the bedroom, he kicked the door shut with a soft click and padded towards the bed. After gently tossing them onto the sheets, Starscream wasted little time in tugging his pajama pants and tossing them aside without a second thought, while User had taken off their shirt. Mm.. He could handle the rest. Those flimsy underwear would look much better on the floor, wouldn’t there?

Starscream’s gaze flitted towards theirs to ensure that there wasn’t any discomfort or hesitance there, but instead, he’d found that they were just the slightest bit flustered— and a little smug.. Cute. Starscream chuckled beneath his breath, his lips curled into the faintest smirk— he hadn’t tried very well to hide it. ”Is everything alright, darling?” He’d begun to drawl, his voice just a smidge raspier than it usually was. Soft footsteps edged closer to the bed, leading him to kneel down and take one of their calves into his palms.. His eyes softened as he leaned in and peppered little kisses along the crux and upwards, easing further and tossing in little nips here and there.. His other hand drifted up their other leg to slowly, tenderly stroke and delve into circles as it drew further up User’s thigh to cup their hip.

”Mmm.. Such a beauty deserves to be pampered, don’t you think?~” He’d ask, that cocky smirk edging at his lips. It gradually softened this time, melting into a kiss at the midst of their thigh. He eased up until his hands rested beneath their thighs, his body rising so that he could lean in and capture those pretty lips of theirs with his own. They’d shuddered, and he’d groaned. Starscream’s fingertips traversed User’s skin and gently curled at their jaw, tilting it up towards their face so that he could deepen the kiss. They were so soft.. Though delicate, fierce. Moreso, they were his darling. The love of his life, his sweet little fig.

… Perhaps that last one was a bit corny.

Still, Starscream had no qualms with worshipping a god like them, even if he’d never quite verbalize his reverence. At least, not now.. He was fawning for them, as always, but that mattered little to him— it was worth it, no matter what happened later.

For now, though..

A gentle squeeze was left at their hip as his hand glided up along their stomach to rest beneath their bust for a moment, tenderly feeling up the weight of their breasts. He relished in the way that they’d arched their spine and moaned against his lips, his heated kisses pausing on occasion to give User space to breathe. Whenever they’d opened up for him, Starscream melted even further into them and lost himself to the rhythm, though he’d let them guide that— their tongues tangled while his hands took the lead in exploring their lovely body, fingertips slowly, steadily kneading one of their breasts while the other took to slowly lifting and squeezing the second. ”M-mm..” With a soft groan and an even softer nip at their bottom lip, Starscream kissed his way down their jaw and along their neck again.

”You are nothing short of a god in physical form.. I’d hope that you never forget that, my sweet..~” Starscream muttered against their skin, another kiss being littered along the juncture between their collar and neck. A slow lick was lulled back upwards, ending with the familiar gentle sting of another bite. He soothed that one with a kiss, and then, his attention was on their breasts. He let himself feel them at first, carefully squeezing and massaging them before taking one of their delicate nipples between his lips. He was careful not to bite— not yet. He’d begun to gently suckle at them, letting that heady feeling guide him into another rhythm whilst his fingertips eased along their curves again in steady strokes.

Pause.

Pop! He’d let them fall from his lips for a moment so that he was able to meet their gaze again, tenderly caressing their skin. ”Please.. Do let me know if I become too much for you, darling. I may be a little rough tonight, but I don’t want to bring you any discomfort. Your needs are important as well. Remember that.” He reassured, leaning up to kiss their forehead. He was a tad flustered whenever they’d reassured him in kind and done the same, but it was more than enough for him. Primus, this sweet thing.. Look at them. He’d die for them, he would kill for them. Either way, what bliss it was.

Now wasn’t the time to dwell on that thought, though— he mustn’t keep them waiting.

Starscream hadn’t hesitated to slip User’s nipple back into his mouth while he curved his fingers down their stomach and between the apex at their thighs, slowly swirling two against the little nub at the tip of their slit and downwards. Goodness, they were wet.. Part of him wasn’t sure whether to go absolutely feral or continue, but— No, not yet.. That wouldn’t be as fun, now would it?

Starscream hummed as he switched breasts and began to suck and lightly nip at the other while his fingertips eased down and met at their entrance, teasing their pussy with gentle prodding motions that’d soak his fingers before leading back up their clit again. He stroked and teased their pretty folds over and over again until they’d begged, leading him to ease them back into their entrance.

”Shhh.. Hush, now.. There’s a good little dove.~” Star hummed, admittedly pleased and a bit smug about their gentle moans and the way that they’d plead for him. In truth, it made him feel wanted. Needed. The very same way that he’d felt about them right now, and he’d.. Liked that, really. Starscream chuckled as he rose to kiss them again, but kept his focus a bit lower. ”Relax, my sweet little star..” He’d whisper between their breathy kisses. Pressing his palm against their clit, Starscream had begun to gently grind it against them whilst slowly edging his fingers deep into their core. He curled them to rub against that sweet spot inside them, biting his lip in an effort to stifle a gasp at the way that they’d role their hips against his hand.

Another plea, it seemed. He’d indulge.

While their tongue explored his mouth, his fingers upped their tempo.. Curious, though.. Starscream quickly dropped down their form to nestle himself between their thighs and lean in, not at all hesitant to press a soft kiss at their clit.. He’d slowly begun to lap at the little bud while his fingers worked deep inside of them, their rhythms not quite the same.

”Mmm! Oh! Star, Star!-”

Primus, they sounded so pretty like this..

The way that they’d grasped at his hair and arched their hips was doing numbers to Starscream’s already messy mind, but he couldn’t be bothered to worry about that right now.. Soft groans rumbled against their soft mount as he lavished their pussy with quicker, firmer licks that gradually began to match the rhythm of his fingers. It didn’t last, though. Starscream tensed as he felt their grip tighten and hold his head in place, and with it, they cried out above him. There we are.. The demihuman hummed contentedly as he finally eased up, his licks and fingers becoming gentler to lull them through their high.. Once they’d finally come down, he slowly stood up and stretched himself out for a moment while they caught their breath. ”Are you alright, darling?” Starscream murmured, brushing aside strands of mussed hair.

But then, they’d given him that little bit of reassurance by tugging him down on top of them. Starscream was more than caught off-guard, but as they pulled him into that deep, soul-searing kiss by the back of his head, any complaints that he might’ve had were lost. “Mmhn-” Starscream hummed and moaned against their lips, and as he did, he slowly reached back up to press their hands against the bed while he rocked his hips against theirs. His length slowly brushed along their folds in a way that made him shudder, the tip rubbing against their clit on each pass.. Their little gasps and pleas made the big bat’s heart skip beats, but he didn’t want to rush into things just yet. Oh, no no.. ”Shhh.. I’m here, and we have all night, don’t we? No need to be impatient.~”

He punctuated the statement with a soft kiss to their nose, and with that, he’d finally let the tip of his cock align with their entrance. ”Relax and hold onto me, darling.. I’ve got you.~” He pressed another kiss to their cheek and dipped his palm beneath their thigh to gently lift it up, letting them hook it around their waist.. He cupped their other hip at the same time and slowly pressed it further. With one quick roll of his hips, he’d slowly slid his length deep into them.. Starscream paused to let them adjust for a moment before slowly beginning to rock his hips back and fourth. Fuck, the way that they squeezed him.. It was enough to make him lose it. Soft moans rumbled past his lips as he’d begun to move a little faster, one hand pressed against the sheets while the other supported them by gently holding the back of their head. He carefully leaned down to press his forehead against theirs as he settled into a rhythm, his hips gradually picking up their pace..

Star-

Fuuuuck.. Starscream’s lips parted again whenever he’d occasionally pant. He gently grasped one of User’s hips to keep them held aloft while he tilted his hips to thrust against that sweet spot inside of them, his motions almost a steady grind.. If he’d felt hazy before, he wasn’t even sure what to call this.. Star felt dizzy. He felt butterflies. This felt good, it.. ”Darling-” He’d moaned out their name against their lips this time, finally giving into the whining in his head. He let his chest nearly meet theirs as he picked up speed again, his thrusts beginning to bear more weight against theirs.. ”M-mm.. You’re doing wonderfully, darling.. Look at you, taking me so well..~” He praised, adding a soft smooch to their jaw this time.

Oh, fuck.. Fuck..

He wasn’t sure how much more he’d be able to take, not with the way that they were squeezing around him.. The way those claws raked down his— ”A-ahah!” He gasped, his hips slamming back into theirs in response to the dizzying pleasure that came with taht little scratch.. Starscream didn’t hesitate to press himself further against them to let them do as they pleased, and in the head of the moment, he’d buried his face against their neck to nip at their pretty skin again. This passionate endeavor left the room all but silent, the air filled with gasps for breath and heady whining that couldn’t quite cover up the less savory sounds their hips made as they collided. Starscream’s hands were everywhere in that moment— gently tugging at their hair, rubbing their shoulders, gliding along their curves..

If this is what it’d felt like to be lost in someone, then Primus, he didn’t want to be found.. Starscream finally began to relax as the pleasure mounted for him, his lips falling open against User’s neck to let him utter out muffled gasps and moans. Whenever they reached up to tug at his hair in turn, Starscream couldn’t help but call out their name over and over again.. ”I.. I think I’m..~” He couldn’t quite finish that statement, and instead, pressed himself deep against them so that he could push deeper. Starscream buried his face deeper against their neck and roughened the weight of his thrusts again, hitting as heavily and quickly as he could without sacrificing their pleasure in the process.

Need to.. Mm-mmh! Need to breed..~

Fuuuck!

Starscream’s hand reached out for his partner’s, letting them lace their fingers together as he gave their hand a tight squeeze— reassurance that he was right there beside him. He didn’t kiss them just yet, though. He pulled back just enough to meet their gaze, searching for any sign of aversion.. Any sign of regret— but he found none. They seemed to be far too lost in the moment to worry about it, their expression sheer bliss. Still, he’d ask. ”C-can I? A-ah.. Can I finish inside? If you want me to pull-” He hadn’t even gotten the chance to finish that sentence before the sweet being’s legs were wrapped snug around his hips and lulling him deep into them. The vampire felt himself fluster at first, but he wouldn’t deny himself now. He certainly wouldn’t deny them, either.. ”You want it, my love? Mm.. I’ll give you everything and more.~” He chuckled breathlessly against their neck, reaching down to swirl rapid circles against their clit to emphasize his point.

He’d felt User shudder beneath his touch and arch their back, nearly bucking their hips in response to that sweet pleasure. ”That’s it.. Haah.. Aah.. Cum for me, my sweet-” He’d be damned if he let go before they did. He continued on until finally, they’d drug those lecherous claws down his back and let go.. Their legs tensed up around him and their hands slowly released his back, likely marking him up. Not that he minded.. The more, the better. He was theirs, after all, and seeing them like this?.. Oh, they were his. ”Darling.. Darling!—” With a sharp, pleasure-wrought moan and another scratch down his spine, Starscream quickly followed. He’d quickly clung onto them by dipping his palms beneath their upper back and slamming himself deep, letting himself spill into their womb until his seed spilled down their thigh.. Slowly, his thrusts gradually hilted and his hips kept pressed deep against them.

Then, the silence came..

Starscream’s body shuddered from the intensity of it all, as did theirs.. He slowly allowed himself to rest on top of them, giving himself a moment before finally wrapping his arms snug around User so that he could flip them onto their sides. He pulled them close, content with simply holding his sweet partner and basking in the moment together, be it as long or as little as it may.. ”Mmm..” Soft hums rumbled past his lips, his eyes fluttering closed as he kissed their forehead and began to gently stroke the back of their head. ”You did wonderfully.. I love you, darling.~” Fingertips wafted through their soft locks and along their back, their motions kept slow and rhythmic.. He’d be gentle, now.. Quiet. ”Stay with me, starlight.. Rest.” His tone was soft, matching the second smooch that he’d pressed to their forehead. ”I’ll hold you for as long as you need.. You deserve it.~” Even if he wasn’t the best partner sometimes, he’d do whatever it took to make them at least feel just how adored they were. That they were loved, cared for. They deserved that and more.

• “Unfortunately, I don’t have any Cybertronians or similar lifeforms in my employ. I could try to arrange for one, but it would take time,” the proprietor says and his servos flex. Time means waiting and suffering. Because once his rut cycle starts, the only way to find any relief is to overload inside a partner. His own hand can’t even take the edge off the need. ‘Show me what you have,’ he snarls, reminding himself that fragging an organic wouldn’t be the end of the world. No one would even need to know. And razing the alien brothel to the ground wouldn’t help him at all.

• Looking up when a chime rings through your apartment, you want to groan. Because you’re being summoned. Still aren’t entirely sure how you’d ended up here lightyears from your own world and no way back. Unable to speak and understand the language, terrified of the aliens around you. You’d come to in a cage with several other humans only to get dragged out alone. Fitted with a decorative collar with your owner’s name that also doubles as a translator. And you’d been given a choice. Work to pay your owner back for your cost plus interest to earn your freedom or be sold outright as a pet, toy, or food. Really, there was only one choice. It’s not awful work considering your kind is a novelty and not in high demand. Which unfortunately means it’s going to take forever to pay off your debt. Pulling on a sheer coverup that doesn’t actually cover anything, you stride down to the lobby.

• “I need to overload inside them. Is there an extra charge for that?” He growls, hating everything about this. How impersonal it all feels. ‘No fee,’ the alien assures him, hands sweeping as a door opens and an organic creature steps through. The alien tiny compared to him even mass displaced, but he immediately realizes why the proprietor chose them. They’re curiously Cybertronian in form, face, hands, body. Soft, but so eerily similar. ‘Hello,’ you say and there’s a strange dissonance between the sound and the movement of your lips and his plating lifts as his optics land on the collar. On the tag with the proprietor’s information. Knowing you’re likely chipped too so you can be retrieved if you’re stolen. Or if you run.

• He’s intimidating looking as he frowns down at you, his body all hard lines and angles. Living metal. Heat racing as you force a smile, you shrug off the coverup to pool around your bare feet and wait for him to say yes or no to you. Most aliens are curious about you, but end up refusing you. Saying you’re too strange. Some like that you’re exotic and alien. And you’ve learned a lot more about alien genitalia over the months than you ever wanted to know. He has a handsome face at least, you decide as you steal glances at him when he circles you. “Too fragile,” he growls and his deep voice is a pleasant surprise. ‘You won’t break me,’ you say and he hesitates like he didn’t expect you to answer not the proprietor.

• “Happy birthday,” he says, ped sliding on your sheets to make your soft berth creak under him. ‘There’s whipped cream on your spike,’ you say, brows lifting. “I know, I know. I’m already so sweet, but I thought you might enjoy a birthday treat,” he purrs, spike aching and fully pressurized. And sticky. He’d had a cherry on top, but it slid off at some point while he was waiting. ‘Funny, because this,’ you say gesturing at him, ‘looks more like a treat for you.’

• “It’s for both of us?” He says, sounding uncertain and hopeful. Fighting the urge to roll your eyes as you watch a glob of whipped cream and chocolate drip on your sheets between his spread thighs, you crawl up on the bed and it creaks under your combined weight. ‘Uh huh,’ you mutter, a hand on his inner thigh for balance as you lean down. ‘So that means you’re going to return the favor, right?’ You ask, tongue sliding against the underside of his spike and he whimpers.

• “Of course,” he groans, visor brightening as your lips part and your mouth closes on the head of his spike before your tongue slides against him. Head falling back against the mattress, he trembles with the urge to thrust. To move. Making himself be still instead when your head bobs, taking more of him as you suck and run your tongue over the seams of his biolights. “Don’t stop. Primus, don’t stop,” he whines, servos fisting in your blankets.

• Startling awake when you get almost pulled out of your bedding when Wheeljack hooks his servos in the waist of your sleep pants and tugs them and your underwear off over your hips, your head lifts and you stare at the big mech sprawled on his front between your thighs. “Wheeljack?” What time is it? ‘There you are. Frag, I need this,’ he growls, palming your thighs and you gasp when his head lowers. And there are definitely worse ways to wake up as his mouth moves against you. Back arching as you hook a leg over his shoulder, ankle sliding against one of the winglike fins on his back, he looks up your body at you, glossa stroking and the color of his optics finally registers. A sickly green instead of blue. Breath catching as your hips buck against his mouth as it slides aggressively against you, his servos are almost bruising on you and you come apart faster than you’d imagined you could.

• Flipping you onto your belly among your blankets, he brushes his mouth against your neck. “You miss me?” He growls as he releases his spike to pressurize against your thigh, frame caging yours. ‘Are you okay?’ You ask, squirming and his mouth opens, denta gripping your shoulder as he vents against you. Why wouldn’t he be okay? He’s never felt so alive before. ‘Wheeljack?’ Squirming an arm under you to get your hips up, he shifts against you, brushing his mouth against the impressions his denta left on your skin. Sucking and licking to try and soothe those angry marks even if he hasn’t broken your skin. Wanting to mark you anyway even as he feels guilty about it.

• “I’m sparking you,” he groans as you feel the head of his spike find and stretch you, your fingers fist in your blankets, pushing back to meet him on a moan. What does that even mean? That question right up there with what’s gotten into him, but it’s hard to think when his hips start pumping. And this time is different, urgent and almost too rough as his hips snap against you. No longer handling you like you’re made of glass. Rutting against you in hard drives as he grunts and snarls. “Let me spark you.” Whimpering his name as your body races for that peak again, you cry out when you shatter.

He shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t hold your dirty shirt up to his olfactory sensors and huff in your human pheromones but Wheeljack couldn’t help himself. It was just a simple little piece of clothing you had left behind from staying over and now Wheeljack planned on desecrating it. You looked so cute sleeping on your little cot next to him when you stayed the night. All bundled up and wearing the exact shirt he was holding up to his faceplate.

You had smelt so different this time, so good. Ovulating? Isn’t that a thing humans did? Whatever it was you smelt intoxicating and Wheeljack had to try to recharge with a dripping spike pressed against his modesty plate. If Wheeljack could smell you that means every mech in the base could get a huff of your pheromones. That worried him. Was someone else rubbing one out to the thought of you? Soft little human pussy so decadently wet and needy at the sight of a Cybertronian spike. Your folds being pushed to the limit as you take something so big inch by inch. Wheeljack couldn’t help but grab his spike tightly in annoyance. You were his whether your current relation was platonic or not. No one else should be thinking about having you spread open and crying out for them.

What have you done to him?

Wheeljack wrapped your shirt around his spike imagining he was fucking your torso right under your shirt. He wanted to ruin your body so badly. Rub his spike over you and splatter his overload all over your willing form. He imagined surprising you during one of your hangouts and just jutting his spike up your shirt. Your soft skin and squishy body rubbing and stimulating his spike as you gasp out in surprise.

He quickened his pace fucking his spike up into your used shirt. His cooling fans hummed and whirled excitedly at his fantasies. He could just pick you up and rub your little cunt along his spike. Have you so wet just from grinding against him then maybe he could barely pop the tip of his spike inside if you. Wheeljack groaned your name imagining how plush your sweet little pussy must feel. Do you think he could reshape your body for his spike? Maybe if he fucks you enough he could perfectly form your hole into the shape of his spike? Primus, Wheeljack hoped so.

Frag, he was getting close. You’ve absolutely ruined him and you have no idea. You don’t even know how desperate he is to be slotted inside of you, run his servos over your body, and use you like a fleshlight. Humans have a sort of anterior node as well. He could rub at it making you cry out for him until you cum on just his digits. He wouldn’t be able to stop at one though. After seeing your cute expression and how you hump his fingers, Wheeljack knew that if he had you like that he’d be insatiable.

“Almost, sweet spark,” Wheeljack groaned as he fucked your dirty shirt. Your name fell out of his vocal box like a prayer. He was so close just chanting your name in pleasure as he imagined all the positions he’d-

“Wheeljack?”

Your sweet voice startled Wheeljack right into his orgasm. Thick globs of transfluid dirtying your already used shirt as he came with the fabric wrapped firmly around his spike. He felt horror, relief, and above all guilt. You were his closest friend and here he was caught in the act of masturbating to your thought with your shirt as his fetish item.

“S-shit!” Wheeljack’s shaky vocalizer managed to squeak out.

You clenched your legs watching how tightly he gripped your shirt to his spike: he was practically strangling his metal cock with the fabric.

“Do you,” you felt your heartbeat quicken and your body heat up. “Do you want me to clean you up?”

Wheeljack thought his circuits were fried when you spoke. He shakily turned his helm to face you as you stood in front of the closed door to his habsuite. How long have you been there?

“Can I help?” You asked pressing your thighs together.

“W-what?” Wheeljack managed to push out through his dermas.

“Can I help clean you off?” You asked again as you licked your lips and eyed up his spike.

Wheeljack cursed under his breath. Were you watching him this whole time? Did you just stand there and ogle at your closest friend fucking your shirt and now were you asking what he thought you were asking?

“Frag,” Wheeljack groaned as another small spurt of transfluid shot onto your now further dirtied shirt. “Sweet spark, please.”

You eagerly trotted up to your mech as he removed your shirt from his spike. You licked your lips at the sight of wet strings of transfluid being stretched out from where he lifted the soiled garment. You tepidly grabbed his spike in both hands earning a low hiss from Wheeljack.

“How long-“

“The whole time.”

How did he not notice you?

“Fuck,” you moaned as you rubbed up his metal shaft. “You’re so fucking big.”

Wheeljack cupped behind you and ushered you closer to his spike. “C’mon doll,” he said over his cooling fans. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

You shoved your face against his spike as you mouthed over the metal phallus. The bitter and sour taste of his cum made you whine. He had made this mess thinking about you, all of this transfluid was for you. You eagerly licked and sucked at the massive cable trying to slurp down all of his release. Your small hands traced over his biolights as you licked up his length. Your mouth was so much warmer, so much softer than Wheeljack ever imagined.

“Need to get you out of your little coverings,” Wheeljack moaned as you sucked at his sensitive cock.

“Yes,” you panted as you pulled away from your meal. You swiftly pulled your clothes off of your body like they stung your skin. “Fuck, Wheeljack I’ve wanted this for so long!”

“How long?” Wheeljack asked as he lifted you into his lap. Your legs were spread on either side of his spike as it still stood proudly and erect.

“Since we first met,” you admitted breathlessly.

Wheeljack couldn’t help how tightly he held your hips. You’ve been interested in him this entire time. All those nights of needy masturbation on his end could have been put to an end by simply asking to have your little body in his berth.

“You’re soaked,” Wheeljack groaned as if he couldn’t believe it himself. Your soft little human valve was absolutely drenched. He traced a digit through your folds exploring the squishy texture of your most intimate parts. “Did you really just stand there and watch?”

“Yeah,” you admitted feeling embarrassed. You felt like an entire pervert having watched Wheeljack rub one out into your shirt but you couldn’t stop yourself.

“I never imagined this is how I’d finally get to fuck you,” Wheeljack chuckled embarrassed.

“Please,” you panted as he rubbed circles over your clit. “Oh Wheeljack please fuck me!”

“Oh I will,” he chuckled as he rubbed up your torso with his other servo. “But I don’t think I can fit in here just yet.” You whined out as he pushed the tip of his metal finger into your sopping hole. He had to hold your hips in a tight grasp to keep you from mindlessly humping his servo.

“Frag,” Wheeljack couldn’t help sinking an entire digit into you. You squirmed and whined out in something between pleasure and pain. “Don’t think I can fit inside you proper without some training.” You could barely move in his grip as he fucked his finger into your hole. He practically held you like a doll as your greedy cunt swallowed up his digit.

“Wheeljack please!” You moaned out throwing your head back against his chasis. “Just use me! Please just use my holes!”

“Oh I will,” Wheeljack laughed. “Trust me I’ll make good use out of this little valve.” You whined when you heard how your pussy squelched around his finger. “You’re taking it so good,” Wheeljack moaned as he frantically fucked his finger up into you. “Can’t imagine how you’ll feel when I finally get to spike you down.”

“Wheeljack!” You cried humping his finger as he prodded and pushed around your insides. The room was filled with slick wet sounds mixed with a mixture of yours and Wheeljack’s pleading and praise. You were like a little angel from Primus himself. He knew that he needed to finish whatever projects he currently had ASAP because once he was finally inside of you he doesn’t know when he’ll be able to pull out.

“C’mon,” Wheeljack groaned as your whines became more frantic and needy. “I got you. You can let go.”

It was like he could command you to cum. You squeezed around his finger like a vice and Wheeljack couldn’t help wondering how tight you’d feel around his spike. Your little whimpers and whines were addicting. The way you humped your hips against his finger like a needy animal made his spark swell with both love and pride.

“There you are,” Wheeljack cooed. “You’re doing so good.”

You choked on a sob as you rode out your high. The way he fucked his finger into you slowed as you rode out your orgasm. “Wheeljack,” you panted shakily. He kept his finger inside of you now just simply stroking your walls like a well loved pet.

Knock Out was beginning to believe you may have been put on this miserable planet by Primus for the sole purpose of punishing him.

Really, how else was he supposed to assume otherwise when you have somehow still failed to understand that he was trying to court you!?

You weren't dimwitted enough you were completely daft. It simply just seemed to be flirtation that you didn't quite comprehend. Clearly otherwise you'd have accepted his advances at this point! You haven't even properly rejected him either, due again to your aforementioned blindness to romantic intent. (If he has to hear Breakdown badly fail to stifle a laugh watching your exchanges one more time, Knock Out was going to put credit into his own Designation- so help him.)

Oh, well. If suave subtly didn't quite make the cut on making you swoon then he'd simply have to take the opposite approach. One he'd started but slowly and rather devastatingly begun to understand you still misinterpreted his attempts at courting. It's beginning to reach the point that he's just short of bluntly shouting "go out on a date with me!". But it lacks class- and class was anything Knock Out lacked. So he continues with your confounded little game you had between one another.

He'd decided to attempt propositioning you as straight forward as he can. He'd said something along the lines of "Let me know if you'd like me to use my expertise to recalibrate your interface array. To give you max usage out of every ounce of charge you can manage." Frankly he doesn't remember it exactly because of how shocking your reply was.

You simply comprehended what he'd said before responding with a very blunt "Sorry, I don't got one."

And surely he must have misheard you- but no. You'd confirmed you actually did not have a traditional interface array installed.

He'd asked why (of course he had. Well, he'd be a touch disappointed if it wasn't exactly your style to overload like so. But Knock Out was versatile in more ways than one. He knew there were more than a few methods to get a bot to overload than just the common interface arrays.) But you'd brushed his shock off and said you'd just couldn't find the time or the shanix back on Cybertron. So you'd had to keep putting it off until the war kick started and you had much bigger things to worry about.

Knock Out had seen a golden opportunity.

And what kind of Decepticon would he be if he didn't take something sitting blatantly out in the open? Practically begging to be taken advantage of.

So he'd casually offered to install one for you.

You’d seemed surprised but just asked if he actually knew how to do that. Assuring you he'd done it more times he could count even before the war. Which was true.

Low and behold you'd accepted his oh so gracious offer.

Now you were here in his medbay online again, after he'd brought you back into the realm of consciousness with the initial installation complete. Now given war times Knock Out did have to settle for a simple and standard pair of equipment for you. Though he did his due diligence to make sure they were an exquisite standard spike and valve. Even making sure to add accents of your frame colors on your spike. And making your anterior node your primary color for just a touch of flare.

Your array was simply out and you'd sat up peering curiously down between your own thighs at the top of your new valve. Your spike in resting position and not out of your spike chamber just yet.

And now was the time for Knock Out to reap the sweet sweet benefits of his rewards for being oh, so charitable.

He'd moved the monitor he'd had on wheels closer before locking it in place. Now by your side and watching as you continued to examine what you could of his work. A small ghost of a smile found your derma and the sight made Knock Out reaffirm his own desires in his processor.

Primus, he was going to ruin you.

A promise not a lamination to be perfectly clear.

"Your array has been installed. Now, we move onto the fun part. We get to calibrate your array properly so it functions as it should and at the levels it should be. A..." Knockout tapped his claws against his own palm in quick thought "Test run so to say. Very standard for interface array installations." Which was not a lie. It was an important part of interface array installation. To test and make sure everything was functioning properly. Nothing more concerning than your valve not lubricating and not realizing till you're in the moment. Or your spike not pressuring correctly and being stuck with a rather painful malfunction.

He'd smiled at you "So we're going to make you overload."

You glanced from him to your valve. "Oh- Okay. I guess that makes sense." Wonderful.

"Yes, to make sure I don't send you off with a miscalibrated pleasure setting." Knock Out leaned forward a touch, his smile turning slightly sly and his optics glinting in what he was sure showed peeks of his own satisfaction. Before he'd let one of his digits point directly at your faceplate. Only a fraction of the space away from actually making contact. "We don't want you accidentally knocking yourself out and into stasis just from a little bit of self service." Accidentally is the key there. Knock Out thinks he could already see himself overstimulating you till you were incoherent when he had the proper chance.

Knock Out pulled his digit away when he'd seen you weren't very perturbed by the idea. Merely meeting his gaze again with no bashfulness. "I've had no problems overloading without an interface array. Is it that difficult to get right?" Oh, a bit of a shame admittedly. He'd half fantasized about giving you your first ever overload when you’d said you'd forgone the frame addition completely for so long. He'll have to settle for breaking your interface array in for you and giving you your first overload that way at the very least.

Though It did also supply him with the rather pretty image of you with your wires splayed out. Digits on your internals and arching into your own touch.

"Yes, it's a rather- delicate task. What with the sensitive equipment that's being installed and the settings it will be set to. As long as you know what you're doing when troubleshooting then it should be nothing to worry about. We just need to make sure everything works and to calibrate your pleasure feedback."

The confusion was clear on your faceplate. "What does that mean exactly?"

Knock Out placed a servo on his own chassis. "Well, I'll be checking to make sure your array is functional and up to par. And we'll be- experimenting to find the correct settings."

"Experimenting?"

"Yes yes, There's a- sweet spot so to speak. Not too sensitive and not too dull. Our job is to find it. And make sure it's the correct fit for charge feedback." Knockout gestured to the monitor by his side. "This will display your feedback levels in deph to show me how your frames registering the charge and pleasure. And I'll know how to adjust from there. We go till we find a... satisfactory calibration." He smiled knowing you didn't know any better to correct him so to say. He then tapped the side of his temple with a claw tip. "The controls are connected to my HUD for the time being so I won't have to pull away to manually adjust it."

Yes, the calibration was also actually a necessary step for interface installation.

Though in practice it's usually done with the patient self servicing. While the one installing watches the monitor with some type of privacy barrier between the two. It keeps an air of professionalism despite the activity.

Though Knockout would be very sure to be through when he did his personal examination.

Only the best for his future courted after all.

You simply looked down between your legs at your spike chamber for a moment. Knock Out took the opportunity to cozy on even closer to you. Dragging his chair the rest of the way over and sitting down. Servo rising to hover over your new array. You followed with your optics but didn't move. "May I?" Knock-out asked.

"Yeah. It's fine." You consented, optics finding his own as you did.

Oh, Knock Out was going to make sure you were perfectly functional.

He wiggled his digits lightly to get your attention back there instead "Now I have some... manufactured charge humming in my digits. To see how your array responds to it. Your frame will still register it as real charge, so don't panic." He waited until you gave a small nod before he'd finally closed the gap between you two. To slowly and softly dragged two digit pads down the curve of your valve. Sliding past your anterior node and against the part of your valve mesh. Making sure to use his digit pads and minding his claws. There was frankly nothing more unpleasant to Knock Out than a mech who didn't know how to manage their claws when they were using your valve.

Your hips jerked just a touch at the contact. No doubt from the charge hankering across his digits. Wound up from how many thoughts he's had rushing through his helm. He's gotten more than a touch frustrated with you. And he's rather lately begun fantasizing of more sultry means of getting his intentions across. Rather ironic he's going to be making a point to revisit them in his processor while he works on you. He was rather eager to see just how closely his assumptions lined up with reality.

How would you overload-? Are you loud when faced with charge? Do you whimper? Or are you the quieter type? Details, details.

He wasn't exactly shy when he'd slipped his digit pads between your valve mesh to press along the sides where your mesh became your actual entrance. Your calipers twitched at the contact but responded properly to the bit of charge gracing across his touch. He slowly dragged his touch upwards till he met your anterior node. His two digits parted and he pressed them on either side of your anterior node before gently pressing back. Making the small hood of it shift back along with, like it should. The charge feedback he received for his actions were minimal at best. Not exactly giving him a concise reading on how functional your array was.

(Though he sincerely doubted his own work was anything less than perhaps just slightly off. Nothing a slight fine tuning wouldn’t fix. Every frame was just slightly different on array installation. But he had a good enough optic to get things close to after doing it so many times over.)

Your noises were also rather chaste. Though he unfortunately couldn't tell if that was how you just were while interfacing. Or rather if you were holding yourself back as to not- embarrass yourself in front of your medic. Perhaps you’d do better with a touch of... encouragement. "You know it would help if you begun fantasizing on what usually helps you build charge." He offered the blatantly leading suggestion.

You just huffed a laugh. "You telling me you're prescribing me 'think dirty thoughts', doc?"

“Precisely" Knock Out pressed a digit pad down on the top of your anterior node. Before dragging a simple slide from the top and to the tip. He didn't miss how you'd twitched again, his smirk hiking into another sly smile when your optics met "Doctors orders."

You huffed again, seeming more so a touch exasperated. Mulling over the thought before quickly deciding on your next course of action. "...Fine. I'll think dirty thoughts then."

"Wonderful. Perhaps together with our powers combined we can achieve at least one proper overload." The light humor in his tone rewarded him with twitch of your derma. Yet another reward for his actions he gladly basked in before moving on. Little did you know the true humor of the sentiment...

Knock Out let his two digits fan apart and drag back down the sides of your entrance. Pressing were he knew the hidden pathway of the anterior node was essentially wired through. Your metal on your thighs clenched, hips even arching just a touch. Progress.

He'd wondered how much quicker he could get charge humming through your own array if he we're using his glossia instead of his digits. Though he knew he would get a much better reward, if he'd waited until your array properly synced with your frame and systems.

There were plenty of benefits to being a medic (Even along the obvious downsides in a war.). One of them was the fact a medic's frame was so compatible with so many higher sense based modifications. Better scanners, better dexterity in servos, and easy ways to register minerals to name a few. And something only medics seemed to be privy too, was that there was a touch of a flavor difference in a bots array. Their lubricant and transfluid that should be universal when absent of flavor based modifications. Though some of it is dictated by minerals in your system. A baseline flavor is always something that's ever so slightly different depending on the bot in question.

Knock Out was positively dying to know what you ended up tasting like.

Small charge begun humming across his digits in response to his chaste petting. From you this time not all him. His digit pads passing over your entrance before traveling back upwards to meet your anterior node again. Finding everything as malleable as it should be he slide his digits back down on your mesh. "Testing insertion capabilities." Was his warning before he slide his two digits halfway inside of your valve.

You jolted a touch- actually squeezing down on him until you relaxed a moment afterwards. "Internal temperature is normal" Another muse aloud more so for you than him. His other servo found the curve of your hip plating to grab before he'd pushed his two digits the rest of the way inside down to his knuckle dividends. Your walls flexed on him again instinctively- at least presumably instinctively. He did wait a moment to see if it repeated but you relaxed once more. Not a glitch then, Wonderful. Working as should be.

He curled his digits- feeling the texture of your walls minding the claws again- and noting what he knew was the edge of a pleasure node just barely in place for him to bother with his digit pads. Your hip jolted against his servo when he did just that. An airy vent hissing out of your mouth. Your optics beginning to hum a brighter setting than they should be regularly. "Pleasure nodes functional." After he droned it aloud Knock Out pulled his digits back to thrust them back inside of you. He glanced at the readings on the monitor when charge hummed against his palm. "Hm. It seems I may have actually set you a touch lower than it should have on sensitivity."

Well, he should rectify that immediately now shouldn’t he?

"Adjusting sensitivity feedback just a touch higher." He bumped the setting a level higher then they would be normally in a mech. The result was near instantaneous.

Your frame arched just a touch before your aft landed back on the medical slab. A stuttering noise escaping out of your throat. Before you'd grit your denta and swallowed down the start of another one. Gasping and venting after the sound went back down. "Better." Knockout smirked and moved to start languidly thrusting his digits in and out of your valve. You flexing and squeezing down on him every time he'd bottomed them back out again.

He watched your spike tip quickly start to pressurize under the charge now building between the both of you. Pressurizing fully in a klicks time and twitching now every time his digits thrust back inside you. "Ah, Spike pressurized successful." With that he let his other servo leave your hip to fan over the length of your spike. Your plating tensing before shivering on his savoring drag upwards. Your spike begun beading pre lubricant before he'd even grabbed you properly. He smothered a chuckle knowing it wouldn't quite be appreciated. Especially considering the position he'd had you in.

Instead he'd properly let himself grab your spike- enjoying the grit of your denta and the clenching of your jaw the act brought.

And maybe he timed it so your pleasure sensitivity bumped up another level higher when he did just so.

The next noise out of you was almost what he'd qualify as a whine. Tapering off and replaced by more huffing and gasping. Your optics brighter noticeably so at this point. He pumped your spike, enjoying the tense of your frame each time it happened. His digit pads rubbing along the sections of your spike each pump back up. The charge brushing up along his servos and slipping between his own plating there. Threatening to travel up his struts in his arm and find his chassis with a vengeance. His optics darting back downwards at your lubricating array before he both sped up a touch and begun jerking your spike off in time with the tempo. Already pressing down the urge to lean downwards to drag his glossia flat from your spike chamber to your tip.

"Lubrication has activated as should." His tone was tinted at the edges with his own arousal shining through just a touch. Something he knew you wouldn't know how to place when you'd hadn't heard it yourself till just now. The obvious distinction on his own audials clear as day to himself. Especially when he had to put considerable effort not to allow his tone to become fully husky for the duration of this rather delightful medical malpractice. His own engine threatening to revv when another delicious sound slipped out of you before you could stop it.

You're so very sweet for him. Knock Out was feeling charge hunker down in his own array. Zipping along the edges of his pelvic plating the longer you'd steadily become more and more undone in front of him. Having to restrain himself from leaving his seat to stand and cozy himself up against your frame as well as he could. To get an even closer look at the still admittedly controlled changes in your frame and faceplate. A part of him wanting to even lock derma with you to see what else he could work out of you with his glossia.

But he knew he should look and not touch where he couldn't quite fabricate a believable lie for.

So he settled for speeding up again and reveling in the sultry sound echoing out of your chassis- a moan.

Every meager reaction of yours only emboldened him to pull every ounce of charge out of you. Every slight shift in expression or slight audible sound. There was an insistence in his own chassis that only propelled him further. There was a very real urge to pull you apart and expose every little delicate internal of your make up. Having himself consider using his circular saw to open you up right down the middle. Simply so he'd have a smoother time burying his servo right through your metal to grab your spark and physically claim it for himself. With a precision that left no room for apprehension or unease.

Don't fret or worry that pretty helm of yours.

He'd be gentle.

...If he genuinely gave the the urge any serious thought anyway. But like many things it was quite the riveting fantasy.

The charge bouncing along his servos was steadily becoming unruly. His appetite and subsequential craving for you draped across his plates like a new coat of paint. Sinking between the gaps and promising to devour him whole lest he ignore them. The urge to pull apart your plating reappearing, but he'll settle for pulling you apart a different way.

Knock Out bumped the pleasure setting up much higher than was necessary. Skipping levels entirely just to cut the line and find the levels of over stimulation he was craving to push onto you.

You arched off the medical slab in a clean curve. Your fist shoved against your own mouth quickly before you'd bitten into your own knuckles. A bitten off half muffled cry jutting sharply out of you. Frame dropping down again, while your other servo gripped the edge of the medical slab harshly enough you'd immediately begun denting your imprint into it. Quick gasping and desperate fits of vents slipping out of your mouth and denta between the continued trial he set your frame to endure.

"Sweet spot." Knock-out droned aloud, not bothering to hide the delight in his words. Watching you practically lock up on the medical slab so you wouldn't writhe. Plating taunt and jittering just slightly when the charge output edged higher than you quite literally knew what to do with.

"My my, So pent up over a little bit of attention." He leaned a touch closer, unable to resist the urge to at least tease you just a touch when you were already so thoroughly put out of it. Each shift of his servos now causing a slightly sticky sound. Array lubricating as you twitched and throbbed against his digits. Charge pulsing and jumping with your em field in a short act. The telltale sign of an overload rapidly approaching.

"Oh dear, Going to overload from a standard medical procedure-?" A quick sound of what could be read as objection came from you- your optics snapping from his servos to him. Your optics bright enough they were tinting your faceplate a touch. Denta still latched onto your own servo- quick sounds still slipping out of your mouth regardless. What he could grasp as disbelief peeked through the utterly delectable show of your struggling state.

"Of course you should, that's our goal here- But you're soaking wet here" Knock Out shoved his digits further into your valve for emphasis. "And leaking like a broken pipe all over your own chassis-" he Jerked your spike faster and watched more of your pre lubricant spill out onto your plating. "Maybe the sensitivity is set too high." Knock Out tutted audibly "We'll more than likely need to perform more than one test run."

He than wordlessly set your sensitivity even higher than before.

A whine did actually sound out of you this time. Em field jumping and you ripping your own fist out of your mouth when your helm slammed backwards against the medical slab. Exposing the gaps of your throat were he could physically see parts clenching up through the dividends. "Knock Out-!"

The sound of you calling out for him when you'd sounded as luscious as you did made him have to bite back an engine growl. The sound instead materializing as a low engine purr from the back of his throat. Something you wouldn’t hear unless the room was quiet. And right now it was anything but. With you now cursing rapidly and repeatedly when your array throbbed against his servos and you begun overloading right in front of him.

Valve squeezing down on his digits and spike throbbing- shooting a thick helping of transfluid out onto the front of your chassis. The particular shade it was cutting strips in the color of your paint. Your plating was clenched and Knock Out could feel the charge zap up his own arms from how heady it was. A couple volts even hitting his chassis while the activity in his own array pulsed back to try and fail to meet it. He bit down on his bottom derma watching you fall apart for him.

When your frame finally slacked did Knock Out stop moving his servos. Your frame and hips twitching periodically as left over charge still jumped across your frame post overload. He pulled away and pulled his digits out of your valve to bring the servo that was on your spike up closer to his faceplate. He touched his pointer and middle digit pads together before separating again. Your transfluid clung to both- stringing along both digits before breaking apart once more. "Transfluid Is the texture it should be." He glanced back at your spent frame slack and splayed out on his medical slab.

Spike half pressurized still and twitching while he could only assume your valve was clenching down on nothing from the left over charge feedback.

His smile curled.

Quite the exquisite sight now isn't it?

Knock Out could get away with another overload as playing it as more trouble shooting. Maybe even a third. Though no more than that. With how he's tampering with your levels and sensitivity he might crash your new system. And he'd have to reinstall it all over again.

...

And that would just be a travesty.... Now wouldn't it?

Divider support credit: @/cursed-carmine

• Servos smoothing along your side before hooking around you, his palm slides lower to cup you and the noise you make is obscene. Spike pulsing with the thrum of his spark, his servos slide against you as his rumbling deepens. Aching to be inside you, to get this blasphemy out of his system. Pressing a servo inside you, your hips push back. Encouraging him to thrust that servo inside your tight heat as you lean your forehead against your arm braced on the wall. You’re too short for this position even though he’d mass shifted and he growls, slipping his servo free. “Don’t stop,” you groan and he chuckles. Palming your hips, you make a startled noise as he lifts you to get you angled where he needs you. ‘We’re just getting started,’ he growls.

• You can’t even touch the ground at all now, legs dangling as he holds you up like you weigh nothing with your arms braced against the wall. And you have the errant thought that you’re going to be so bruised after this from his servos and getting rocked against the wall. Probably scraped up, too. But then you feel the head of his spike pressing against you and you’re gasping at the stretch, urgently mewling at him to wait. Because he’s big. Shocked when he actually does, his big frame is hot against your back as his forehead rests against the wall over you. “Relax for me, pet. Let me in,” he growls, low voice rougher than you’ve ever heard it to make your toes curl as his hips flex.

• Can feel your field prickling him as his hips barely rock and you gasp. “That’s right. You’re mine and you can take me,” he groans, feeling you finally start to relax as his hips lazily flex. And you’re so much tighter than he imagined as your slick, silken heat takes all of him. “A little more,” he growls, hips rolling as you whimper his name, mouth against your own arm. Trying to be quiet? “Let them hear you, pet. Let them know you’re mine,” he snarls in your ear, hips pumping as one of your legs slides against his. Knows he’d said he’d move on and forget this obsession after having you once, but he’s realizing he’d lied to himself. That he’s going to keep you regardless.

• Squirming where you’re pinned, you can’t move how you want, how you need to. He has all the control as his spike stretches you, stroking deep until you feel every ridge. Sweating from the heat radiating off of him, his hips snap against yours on an animalistic snarl that has you trembling. Lost in the feel of his big frame moving against you and his spike inside you, it’s hard to remember where you are. That you need to be quiet. Especially as you heat and coil, crying out his name when you come apart and his hips keep pumping to draw it out until you’re trembling and his helm thumps against the wall with a snarl as he shudders against you, servos almost bruising on you. Feel the heat of his release as he overloads inside you, venting noisily to stir your hair while his excess runs down your inner thigh. “I changed my mind, pet. I’m keeping you,” he growls in your ear as you flush, knowing those words should alarm you.