Cosmo

A mouth-watering fuck-ton of hand angle references.

Discussing robo tummies with a buddy. I have an interest in speculative biology, so this was a fun little challenge.

Just thinking about Knock Out needing to lie down with his human in his tanks, and curl up around you. Because you only narrowly avoided getting discovered by one of the worst mechs possible, Shockwave.

The idea that you could've been taken away, tortured, and experimented on, mercilessly haunts him, and he needs to take a moment where you're kept close. Somewhere where he knows you'll be safe. His tanks. He'll let you out in a moment so you can properly unwind from the day you just had, but he needs this right now.

His tank walls clench and release rhythmically as if needing to hold you close, to reassure KO that you're still there, but also letting you breathe in case his anxiety about your near-discovery makes him squeeze you too harshly. He's aware that nothing will come of this near-miss in the long run, but he can't shake the feeling that he almost just lost you.

The anxiety eats away at his spark until he can feel you rub at the plush walls of his tank. As if to reassure him about the terror pulsing through his systems. That you're okay, and you're going to continue to be okay. Slowly, he calms, and is able to get up from his berth. He crosses his habsuite to where he'd set up his human's mini-habsuite, and he gently clenches the walls of his tank in order to spit you back up.

Knock Out gives you a cheeky lick with his glossa, and laughs lightly when you half-heartedly swat at it in response. He composes himself as he retrieves you from his intake with surgical precision, and he dries you off with one of his softer cleaning cloths. He takes a moment to stare contentedly at you where you sit in his servos and sigh a little, before he sets you down so you can commence with your (Fairly rigorous, as implemented by him.) self care routine.

-Not a Request Anon

Of course, it's all an act... But it's still a lot of fun, especially when your S/O really gets into character, tipping your chin up to look them in the eye before leaning in to whisper in your ear.

"I can't wait until you melt into me~"

Sometimes, they get a little more... Descriptive with it, describing how they desperately want you to be the newest layer of padding on their body, making them softer and more desirable to other prey.

In reality, though? None of that is the case.

They'll tease and taunt you about your inevitable "fate", but as soon as you're sliding down their gullet, they break character, shedding whatever tacky costume they're wearing (if they're even wearing one) and practically dissolving into a puddle as you run your hands along their stomach walls.

You can practically see their blushing face, and, all around you, you can feel the way their body trembles in excitement, waiting for what you're about to do next: will you squirm? Or will you keep delicately running your hands along their stomach walls?

the last time I reblogged this post right before I got a great job, in a permanent work-from-home position, with benefits, retirement, and a salary literally 3x what I was making before, doing something I really like. 

So you know.