Chapter Text
"Get down!"
You threw yourself towards the green-yellow mech in front of you, trying to get to him before- VSHHOOM! Blood, bright blue and viscous splattered your face in specks. The soldier, your comrade, staggering backwards a few steps before falling to the ground, headless.
Too late.
Always too late.
Reeling back into cover with your back pressed to the fresh wreckage of an escape shuttle. Bringing a servo up and swiftly swiping at the energon dotting your faceplate, taking with it some of the grease and grime that'd built up from your days of crawling through battlefields made graveyards. Dirtied, tired, and battered; you were all three of these things.
How long had you been fighting?
Who knows. You were frontline fodder; meant to fall before they rolled out all the important bots; meant to perish quick and let your superiors lay claim to all the hard work; meant to fade away a nameless name. Yet, you survive, last of your squadron; one of many paltry sum remaining on Cybertron in light of the exodus mere weeks ago. Fighting for a leader who'd abandoned you.
A hail of fire rained down upon your hiding spot from above, burning holes into and violently rocking the small ship. Jolting forward, rolling out of the line of blast fire with little time to spare, you escaped with only a mesh wound to your shoulder begot by a stray shot. Prior shelter now shredded to bits of scrap. Getting to your pedes, you volted, sprinting across the wide-open field; trying your best not to step on bodies or trip on rubble, a big red figurative target raised to your back as you gunned it for cover in the ruined city some hundred or so feet away. A rogue blast whizzing past your helm, sniper fire, nearly taking you out. Swiveling, thrown off-balance by the close call, you nearly toppled but found your footing at the last minute and jerked up-right, continuing to scramble towards your destination.
Just a little further-!
Just--!
A little---!
You hit the ground, limp and heavy, a fresh burn steaming up from the melted plating on your back as you lay face down in the muck.
….
…
Awake.
...Your... Awake?
Not... not dead?
It was dark, pitch black, no lights meeting your optics as they- you assumed- they peered into the abyss. You couldn't be sure if the area around you was legitimately dark or if your optics weren't functioning properly as, frankly, you couldn't feel your face. Until something dripped onto it, onto your cheek; prompting you to try and wipe it away. Yet, nothing. You shuffled, trying to move your servos, neither budging. One manual reset later, you slowly began to regain feeling in the rest of your frame. A pressure, dense, dull, jagged, and everything in-between realized; weighing down your servos and all that lay below your waist.
Squirming, you tried to wiggle out from beneath the great mass keeping you crushed under... Something, a lot of something.
No luck.
The air was acrid, putridly stiff. You could taste it.
How did you get here?
How did you get here under all... these..
You froze, the only moving part of you being the hand that cautiously tapped and groped the bizarre shapes it was unwillingly pressed to.
Metal, once living, pliant metal. Metal that squished and curved at angles.
Derma, lips.
You felt further, thumb slowly straying as far as it was able to bend and dipping into a slope, cresting over soft cheek, and scraping across a fractured, glassy texture: optic, eye.
Face.
There was a face in your hand.
Suddenly hyperaware of all the little ridges and shapes that touched you; dead, dead stiff but touching; cold lips, broken digits, lame limbs, sharp shoulders; all felt. Justly terrified, you began to struggle, petrified by the prospect of being buried alive under a pile of husks that one could only assume were meant for smelting in these desperate wartimes; wholly convinced that if you didn't find a way out quick you were going to die a horribly painful death.
Though, once more, despite your best efforts, you remained mostly immobile.
Your flailing earning little more than the now rapid splash of liquid that dripped soundless down onto your alarmed expression. In your attempts to wrestle free, you'd seemingly loosed and jostled the origin point of said drip which now threatened to seep into and drown your eyes with whatever infections the liquid may carry from the host it sourced from. Shaking your head furiously, you cricked your neck to the side to evade the spatter, leaving it to pitter along your jaw and stream down the length of your cabling. Only for another drip, inconsistent compared to the first leak's constant, to fall sporadically onto your temple; trailing down and pooling along your lips. Mouth closed and optic lids scrunched tight you tried your damndest to avoid getting any of it into your systems. You managed to fail on one front.
Energon, it should have been obvious.
The processed energon of another, the blood of another.
You could taste it, feel it.
Slithering past the lost guard of your cracked lips; violating the flavor sensor lining your cowering glossa; oozing through the broken intake-seal within your throat and down into your fuel tanks.
For cycles, you lay there; suffering; another leak even less frequent than either of its predecessors painting a sluggishly erratic pattern across your chassis. For cycles, all you could hear was the faint tink and tap of droplets periodically striking the solid surface of you. Painfully aware of the lack of any other sound; of the lack of movement; the lack of life. It was suffocating, excruciating. Hadn't it been for your chronometer you're sure in your state of distress you could've been duped into believing solar-cycles-- perhaps stellar-cycles, had passed.
But then something, primus be, SOMETHING, broke the silence.
You felt it before you heard it; booming vibrations that shook the mass atop you as a whole in rhythm. Bodies against bodies clattering with friction. Footsteps, thunderous in the amount of weight put into each of them, sounded as if they were carrying a titan towards you.
Perhaps from certain perspectives, they were.
They came to a halt somewhere short of your predicament, silence once again taking precedent in their absence. You strained to listen. A myriad of thoughts, unusually optimistic, stirring within your processor; primarily: Were you going to be rescued? Had someone picked up on your life signal among the dead and come to free you from your morbid enclosure? Hopeful, you parted your derma, willfully ignoring the flux of processed vile now flowing steadily onto your tongue- ready to call out to what or who you hoped was your soon savior to be.
CRUNCH-ccrrr
The loud crunch of metal being compacted and torn.
A new fear realized.
CRASH
The crash and tumble of somethin relatively heavy.
CRUNCH-ccrr
The horrid noise was followed by the same crash and tumble of something impacted the ground with force.
The loop repeating as the astro-cycles ticked by; crunch, crash, crunch.
Confused and frightened, you tried to piece together in your mind the current situation and what it meant for you. The subtlest shift felt in weight each time before the loop repeated. Something or.. Someone, was... Crushing the bodies..? Was it going to crush you? Beginning to writhe once more, you tried again to free your servos to very little give. Restrained, damaged, and wet with a glaze of blood sheening your face and many other places, you resolved to relying on blind determination; eventually managing to rip an arm free; causing a shift to occur. Displaced, the husks around you slid and shifted, the corpse suspended just above you slipping into what little personal space you'd had prior. Apparently, it hadn't been the primary source of the downpour that'd gradually soaked you and had actually been serving as some sort of macabre, belated reservoir collecting seepage draining from above over time as-- "Agh!" A slurry of electric-blue sloshed you in the face; absolutely coating your helm and painting the tops of your shoulders, pouring over to streak those below you, excess color crawling downwards and dripping off your hind components.
Silence.
Flailing, you shoved at the dismantled bot who'd fallen atop of you and scrubbed furiously at your eyes and mouth, spitting and 'gagging' up the substance that'd made an effort to drown out any color you'd possessed prior to it. Not taking notice in your distracted flurry to the fact that you were currently being listened to.
That was, of course, until something deep, guttural, hummed low and vicious.
A long, low hiss underlined by some sort of hellish baritone.
Unable to fully process what you'd just heard before a massive racket ensued; dead metal being thrown to the ground with pace; bodies slamming against one another as they were sent piling anew. The mass rocking and quaking. You almost had the mind to pay caution to the shifting cadavers that very well had the potential to collide with and fatally wound you if moved this way or that but rather found yourself wholly focused in fear-stricken terror on conjuring the mental visage of whatever sought you with audibly malicious intent and presumed ability to mangle and toss bots with ease. On instinct, a hand retracted and reformed, blaster pointing skyward in the dark. Thin beams of light shining down in strokes, glow reflecting off brutalized frames and gifting you with just enough sight to acknowledge the tarnished grey of your servo; your prior colors present but long since muted and sickly in shade. The discoloration puzzling and drawing your attention for all but milliseconds before the meager amount of light you'd been afforded expanded and enveloped you entirely, blaster and optics alike racing to point in the same direction with the guidance of fully realized sight.
A draconic figure loomed, silhouetted by the sun.
Casting a curtain of shadow over top of you as he leaned closer, monstrous peculiarities beheld by your widened gaze. The image comical; you lay half-buried, eroding and damaged, aiming up at something perhaps twenty times your size. You were at the complete mercy of this thing and had become aware of the fact immediately upon laying eyes on him. Leering, his maw drew near, glare feral. Stiffened, you remained still. His mandibles clicking and chittering as they expanded outwards at the sides, threatening to grab and pull what they could into the rows of teeth that lay between them.
Click
…..
Click
"Frag."
It seems your arm has suffered internal damage; rendering it unable to carry out the process required to create heat blasts. So basically, your fucked. Hissing, his jaws peeled apart, tongue tittering over the jagged tops of his bottom set of denta; the beast offended; aware of what'd you'd just tried and failed to pull. Coiling before he lunged forward, mouth gaping. You could do little but watch helplessly as he closed in on your captive frame. Mandibles scraping across your front, pulling away just as fast they'd made contact with your torso.
CRUNCH-ccrrr
A weight had been lifted from you, dripping body now absent.
He chewed, crushing the mech between his teeth and tilting his helm back, draining the corpse of what liquid it had left. Blood-drinker; the creature not only tore and ground with ease but also sustained himself off the energon of others.
Predator. Predator.
In a rush you pulled the rest of your limbs loose, able to kick and push from under the dismembered body parts holding you hostage now that there wasn't a mountain of weight pinning you down. A loud crash sounding, the beast's meal finished, shredded remnants thrown to the wayside to join the rest. He moved to encroach on your personal space once more, neck snaking his horned head into the shallow crevice in which you inhabited. Sending a prayer to the wind, you transformed your opposing arm to take blaster shape, aim unsteady.
WWWH-SCHOO
The giant screeched and withdrew, left optic sparking.
Seeing opportunity, you climbed what lay between you and freedom and jolted forward, tripping and tumbling down the remaining mound of dead. Scuttling to your feet once you met solid ground; barely dodging a swiping foreclaw. Sprinting forth you paid little mind to the many twin piles of rot that stretched beyond your comprehension, graveyard of uneven grounds cracked and protruding with war-born craters and crashed transports nothing more than the dirt you trod in dire haste.
A roar, petrifying in its ferocity rattled your strut. His tail, whip-like and pronged with many, many nasty points clubbed you hard in the back, throwing you with the force of impact and sending you somersaulting. You skid and rolled several meters, thudding hard against a large piece of shrapnel. Booming footsteps charging you, intent on closing the short distance that'd been gained. The ground trembling in his wake, your balance shaky as you struggled to find your footing, shooting up and to the side once you had. Though you didn't make it far before a huge claw batted you backward, flipping you sideways and causing you to hit the ground headfirst, landing in an awkward sprawl of limbs against one of many half-buried warships. A splotch of neon blue trailing down from where you'd struck the ship to your battered shell. Blood pooling at your front, practically gushing from the gruesome rend he'd carved into your torso. Even still, you attempted to lift yourself, servos shaking with the sheer amount of effort such a meager action now took. Vision spinning, you blurrily searched for a route of escape from where you lay.
He stalked nearby, waiting for your next move so he could cut you short.
You caught sight of an opening torn into the very craft you'd dented. His gaze following yours. There was a pause, the both of you registering this development. Without warning you mustered what strength you could and burst into action, kicking off the dirt, you leapt forward with dubious grace, clawing the ground in your spontaneous half-crawl, dust and rubble flying from the force of your liftoff. An irate screech bruising your audial.
Tucking and diving towards the narrow opening of ripped edges and exposed, dangling wires; making it with less than seconds to spare, tumbling into the hollow space. A horribly loud scraping following you in, deep marks carved into the already marred ship's surface. Serrated daggers slamming down and blocking your entry point. You'd escaped the beast's wrath for the moment but were once again trapped, corned into a crushed-in and compact tunnel. Dragging yourself as far back in as you could until the passage became too tight to move away further, grasping at your gushing wound. He began digging at your hiding spot, attempting to bend and tear the opening wider so he could drag you out with force. His lashes and pulls earning little reward as the armored vessel, though beyond its years, held firm. Anger and frustration evident in his rolling growl.
Taking a step back, his mass hunched, head turned to the side and sliding near to the surface of the ship, good eye level to seer you under the neon of his sunburst orange ray. Your blaster quickly reformed and pointed, an open yet empty threat considering you couldn't afford depleting what energon wasn't already actively escaping your abdomen; though that wasn't a fact you were keen on letting him in on. A stare held for moments that felt to you like hours before he squinted, retracting with a growl.
He was going to leave you be- you weren't worth the fuss-- he'd be on his way chowing down on remains and eventually you'd be able to crawl from the hovel you'd wedged yourself into and figure out what the hell was going on.
If only your hopeful assumptions weren't wrong, oh so very wrong.
His great jaw harrowed the dirt, mandibles gripping onto the fuselage, teeth hung apart over the dugout, allowing you to see down the narrowest portion of his throat; unable to grasp what was to come until it was too late; his tongue, long and segmented, darting from his maw. The slippery appendage blindly wrapping around a stabilizer. Yanked forward, you flailed, successfully gripping onto a broken pipe sticking out of the wall, disarming yourself and clinging to the lifeline with both hands. Kicking with your free leg, you desperately attempted to peel the glossa off your metal, now only inches from the precipice of certain doom.
Crawling backwards up the tunnel when you were able to wriggle free, feeling around in the dark and forcing your digits through grooves in the cracked ceiling to grapple onto. His tongue not far behind, groping the walls and locating you once more in micro-cycles. It thudded against your chassis, smearing the energon that once splotched it; wrapping around your top and tugging you towards his mouth once more- though your grip was firm, legs kicking wildly at the prehensile organ, aim connecting but lacking in impact. Loosened by the fluid coating your frame, it slipped. Not backing away far before encircling your waist where it squeezed. Hissing through clenched denta, wound irritated and pained by the coiling pressure. Your fingers curled, worrying the slab of dead metal between them.
Once again, as though a faux mercy, he let go, tongue retracting entirely. Untrusting, your hold remained stead-fast and crushing, awaiting his next attempt.
It returned.
Twisting to meet your back, scraping away at the fine layer of blood drenching it in one lone flick: retracting again and returning clean seconds later. Disturbed, you watched- felt him, curve and swipe at the unwelcome excess. Still, you kicked at him, unwilling to play into whatever strange trap you assumed this predator was laying out for you.
Unbothered by your feeble exertion he continued. Tongue greetings your front, smoothing up and collecting what it found. Causing you to reel your helm away as it drew closer, cringing as it slathered over your faceplate, watching with squinted optics as he yet again retracted before reemerging, focus shifting to your wound. Lapping at the injury. Now, it was how he went it about it that bothered you- nevermind the plain fact that there was a huge tongue on you. Aware of it or not, his glossa was making exclusive contact with your panel; rough surface swiping up from beneath and over the sensitive area to get to your injury with each swipe.
And just, kept going like that.
Hungry for every last drop of fresh energon you could spare.
Pained, flustered, and squirming you pinched your limbs together in attempt to block his path.
Undeterred and stubborn, the glossa wormed between your locked legs, sliding up between them and tittering over the surface of our lower torso, sliding back and repeating the motion, exacerbating the problem. It peeked from your thighs and expanded before each retreat; the imagery reminiscent of something lude. Something... stimulating. Then his tongue caught onto something more sensitive: veering and sliding between where the joints of leg met your hips and panel, tweaking the wiring and pushing under plating. Taken by surprise, you failed to suppress the erotic vocal que that slipped from your vocalizer; stunted moan loud enough for both of you to hear.
He stopped.
...
Slowly, he mimicked the prior misadventure, cautious in his curiosity.
Shuddering, you manually offed your voxcoder and scrunched your eyes shut.
Though apparently, the shudder was encouragement enough. His tongue, big as it was, could only slip so far under your plating but by Primus, he made do. What he could fit jostled your wires, sliding and rolling them languidly. Finding yourself disgusted to find yourself enjoying it- enjoying the pressure, the texture, the thrill, him. Your limbs loosened, legs straying and gaping, your grip on the ceiling dubious. Purposefully now, the girth of his tongue weighed onto your modesty. He'd actively been out for blood, trying to kill you, only moments prior- you couldn't lose sight of that, couldn't forget. You wouldn't forget, it was at the very forefront of your mind... just, boosting undeserved effects the longer he entertained you.
It was...
Fueling your excitement.
A dog of war, you were no stranger to danger; it was your normal. You'd faced nothing but danger on the battlefield for countless years, a day without it was one that made you uneasy, paranoia of being crept upon and ambushed addling your warry, war-ridden processor.
Fear had always been your most reliable source of motivation and fuel to keep going.
Keep going.
An inner mechanism in your left stabilizer spasmed as he traced along a hardline cable.
You were afraid, but that excited you. You were afraid about being excited. Confused by these feeling and too terrified to stop and consider how utterly dysfunctional your life of endless bloodshed has made you. Danger was offering you something it never had before, a distraction, a solution to deca-cycles of pent-up energy and boiling sexual frustration-- and you were actually considering the offer. Initially, in times long since passed, you'd craved for something romantic; rejecting many similar offers from equally as desperate comrades because you'd wanted to wait for something personal; emotional. You'd desired gentle intimacy at the will of someone who'd meant it.
In retrospect, you'd been naïve.
You'd somehow conjured these hopes in times of great suffering and death; when intimacy was little more than an alluring whisper on the wind, heard of vaguely but unseen in true opacity.
You had to take what you could get, yet that was something you'd failed to grasp.
You'd have to accept.
Only one offered remained.
Your head lolled, silent praises sung as he petted and pushed. Your hips rolling upwards his touch, seeming to respond to his effort without conscious permission. A soft, almost silent click echoing. Your reaction delayed, optics widening into saucer once you realized what'd made it. Before you could conceive a coherent course of action, you were abruptly slammed against the surface at your back, vocalizer flickering off and on with a grainy crackle as you near choked out gibberish in your state of shock, his appendage so suddenly plunged deep within your valve. Arms falling with the jolt, lifeline lost. In a show of cunning calculation his tongue withdrew, encircling an ankle and dragging you nearer. Alarmed by the sudden switch in behavior you managed to fling your arms and claw at the walls, miraculously snagging onto the same pipe as before, catching and bending it at the very last possible moment. Dangling sideways now, some measly inches closer to his mouth than before. He growled, the menacingly deep vibration shaking the narrow space you inhabited.
Now that you lay closer, he snaked his glossa up your leg, pressing between your pliant folds.
Up between them he creeped slow, drawing over your anterior node.
Then, with anger behind his movement, his tongue darted into your channel with sharp, unforgiving twists that had you clutching tighter to the bar in your grasp. Feeling as he writhed into you so hard it nudged and slid you further from him, lending you the opportunity to wrap both arms around the bent pipe; trying to keep as steady and still as his actions would permit. Forceful rhythm swaying less in and out, more turn and curl. Working your insides with unpredictable twirls and flicks; segment lines melding against calipers as he ventured. Attempts to push deeper made in spite of your maxed capacity, limits kissed and then some; there was very little you could do to deter him from trying to stretch beyond regardless. A lingering pain present from being entered so quickly without much of any preparation, the sheer size of the protrusion being of no help. The hazy image of just how much he'd managed to fit into you already your only distraction from it. Legs twitching, you watched on helplessly as what he couldn't fit wriggled and grazed against your node every so often, eliciting much needed friction. Wanting more, you rolled your hips up into the excess, finding it difficult to budge much as the aforementioned force of his writhing made such a task difficult. Lower-half stiff to your commands and almost entirely under his whim with every twist. Letting slip a sound of frustration, you huffed at the lack of attention given to your delicate button.
The reply to which coming in the form of a yet harsher push to cram more of himself into you; unable to visually discern why you'd made such a noise and frankly, uncaring. Gritting your teeth, feeling him succeed by some ungodly inches. Wet embrace restricting and quivering. Metal packed in tight between mesh, the casing of your valve straining, the muscle curling into itself balling and clumping the more he pushed.
A gasp heard when he pulled all the way out-- only to immediately brute all that'd collected in you previously back in.
Jerking you upwards, your back hovered off the ground from the power of his pull. Swapping his prior strategy for something new, he trashed and pumped experimentally. Burying your head in your arms against the pipe, withered expression hidden from no one in particular as you hissed, more approving of this tactic than the last. You didn't think anything of it when he slipped out again, grateful for the reprieve, anticipating the thrust back into your sex. Your detached haze leaving you vulnerable, something he seemed to catch onto. Taking the advantage. Yanked, ripped away from the pipe for the final time and dragged along the dirt. You blinked, optics adjusting to brightness of the sky above in contrast to the dark tunnel you'd been in not but micro-cycles prior.
Blurrily registering the many, many teeth that now held you pinned.
Images flashing in the back of your brain of the bodies he'd crushed and drained. Playing into your thoughts, the sharpened points of his daggered fangs worried your plating, slowly. A clear temptation and legitimate consideration behind this act. He was deliberating, he might crush you. He might kill you. His tongue idling over the portion of your body that lay captive in his jaws, the taste of the transfluids dripping from your valve persuasive. Somewhat unsurprised to find yourself still wrongfully aroused by the severity and context of your predicament. Where had the you who'd ran away stumbling from this creature gone? Was the self-preservation sector of your processor completely fried? His jaw eased, seeming to have decided against killing you for the time being. Segmented appendage worming a path to your dripping center. Picking up where he left off, glossa rushing your walls, toying lazily, intent on hollowing you of your sweet taste. He turned away from the ship, wings unfolding in a grand display, one powerful beat able to lift him up and off into the air.
Startled and unable to see past the crest of his snout, you grabbed onto his elongated canines on reflex, mixed emotions and sensations coming into play from the volatile circumstance of being eaten out and becoming airborne simultaneously. Though it seemed he was willing to pay your needs some mind this time around, prehensile muscle withdrawing entirely with each thrust and sliding upward every other jolt to slather your node. Finding yourself able to wriggle your hips feely into his pattern. Release quickly building near, stabilizers feebly straddling his glossa as your optic lids fell closed. He kept pace with the quickened roll of your sloppily gyrating hips, slipping over the areas you seemed to favor more often, scraping rougher over your node when he did, speed of operations increasing subtly. Swift, he sliced through the sky, diving and closing in on his intended destination. His jaws closed tighter around you as he descended nose first, something you apparently enjoyed the feeling of very much in the moment as it triggered your overload- one of which came just before he hit hard against an overly sensitive sensory patch somewhere within you. Body seizing and squeezing around him, then going limp. Tongue retreating, flicking over your node as it went, he tilted his helm upwards by a slight, lapping at your juices and striving to devour the whole of your release. Overstimulated, twitching sporadically as he cleaned away all evidence of your orgasm. Having darted into a canyon, he made an abrupt turn into a cave pocket drilled into the side of one of two expansive walls, landing within. He maw parting the further in he walked, allowing you to slide out onto the ground like a wet lump.
Collecting your bearings, you lounge with your eyes sealed shut, simply listening to your surroundings. The ache of your valve persistent and bothersome; a monotonous reminder that your internals wouldn't soon be forgetting the beating they'd taken. When your lids did dare crack open, they scanned the area for the being who'd carried you in, head having to tilt to find him find him loitering farther into the tunnel.
Unsettled to find he was watching you, solo optic trained on you as the other flickered through a broken lens. You felt trepidation and.. guilt? Not much, but a little. Still wholly convinced he'd have eaten you had you not have acted. More than anything, the way he was staring into you conjured worry. Though the eye contact seemed to stir him from lost musings; he slunk into a threatening posture that granted you the experience of feeling your spark in your throat as it pulsed at a higher frequency. One sinister step taken towards you before his beastly frame began compacting into something unknown. You sat upright, twisting to get a better look. What you saw when the final pieces of him clicked into place being a root cybertronian crafted of leering edges and sharp features. He was no titan, but he still lorded the height advantage over your by quite a bit. Finding him no less imposing now that he had a face you could read the emotes of clearly; especially now as he glowered, a glower aimed towards the only other person in the room- you. Abusing the intimidation factor of his towering shape he came to stand over you, peering down at an angle due to the proximity. Your lips parted, croaking a strangled whirr, then resetting your vocalizer with a look of blatant mortification. Spilling mumbled syllables into the tense atmosphere and praying they'd spill out coherent enough to decipher.
He kneeled; brow perked in query.
"My name..." you repeated yourself, clueing him in on a designation he hadn't asked for. He continued to stare, face blank as he plainly observed your disheveled state, nodding slowly after some astro-cycles, squinting in consideration of something.
"Predaking." he spoke, accented rumble seeping into your audial.
Nodding mutely, you looked off to the side, mentally scavenging for what to say. Preferably something that'd break the very thick sheet of ice spacing an awkward gap between the both of you. When your attention briefly flickered back towards him you found he was no longer interested in your optics, rather, he was openly studying your still present valve. You froze, now aware your panel hadn't reinstated itself-- A heavy paw came down on the floor beside you, burly arm caging you in, close. Startled by its placement and jerking to look at it, the viscous blades gleaming. Swiveling to determine the movement in the corner of your eye, catching him moving closer, closing the distance. His other hand, just as sharp and encompassing, curled over your shoulder, pushing you to lay as you were when you'd been placed. Soon after thin lips met your neck, pointed protrusions from his helm forcing yours to tilt upwards- making space for him, not wanting to get nicked. His body came down on your own, conscious not to apply the entirety of his weight lest he dent you. Flat to your throat, his glossa slid from along your plating- stopping short of something that captured his interest; snagging onto neck cabling without warning, fangs clamped around it, threatening to sever the vital line. Stiffening, you didn't dare move as he lightly chewed, rolling it carelessly between his jaw. The reignition of your obscene thirst sparked, judgement clouded.
The claw on your shoulder rove a trail down your front, jagged tips dragging with deceptive gentleness as they went. He found your open wound; touch hovering over it, intentions unclear. Body jolting when you felt a cold claw scrape along the rim of it, a trail of pain following the path his digit traced. Your servos coming up, one landing on his chassis and the other grasping his bicep. Ready to push him away- acting as if you had the strength to.
He ceased, leaving the wound be in favor of taking hold of the wrist that groped his upper arm, bringing it up and placing your hand to his face. He made you dip the tips of your fingers past the broken edges of his burst lens, sliding them along where his eye should be. Letting you pull away, claw wandering back to where it'd left off- ghosting past the crevice he'd carved into your frame. An armored knuckle finding your node, caressing the erogenous bump. Teeth dragged along your cabling all the while. Wiggling up into his touch, craving the violence he'd bring. He bit, breaching the line, blood spilt. The nip shallow, deep enough to get you to bleed but not yet enough to cause for alarm. Pleasure and pain sloshing into a slurry of similar sensation, stabilizers shuffling, coming to tap the backs of his encircling them. With a hiss you twisted your helm further away, allowing him access abound in your throw of signals. He sucked, nursing on the energon that leaked through, knuckle venturing to tease your entrance. Peeking into your walls, finger cricking to neglect the use of its sharp tip. You registered a shift-click from below. Unable to tilt your head and gather events, you shut your eyes and took in everything. A foreign warmth radiating along your lower thigh, slimy texture brushing up against your metal and alighting your imagination. Impatiently, you jerked your hips, his knuckle pressing deeper into your valve.
He got the message but felt no rush to comply.
Still, his hand advanced from your valve, coming to be on your waist and squeezing to keep you still. He shifted, head of his spike tapping your folds the sliding against them, resting flat and providing you with little more than heat and pressure to work with. Even without looking you could tell it thick, ribbed with smooth protrusions that'd catch and caress pleasantly if only he chose to make use of them. It was then he began to grind, refusing to penetrate, sliding slow along your slick- toying with you. Whining, you pleaded for mercy, for satisfaction. Tyrannical, he'd slam your hips into place when you'd attempt to catch him- to make him fuck you. Baring his teeth when you'd whimper, growling.
Though you wouldn't stop begging, not now.
"Please." you puffed, keening as he stimulated your node, pulling back and pushing against it again and again.
"Please,,, Predaking-"
Abruptly, you were flipped onto your front, arms splayed loosely; your waist gripped, pulled backwards into his hips, a thigh pushed to the side to make room for his phallus. Your anticipation ramping as the tip smeared the transfluids you'd produced. Fists curled as an inch of him peeked in, the head alone enough to send shivers up your strut. He stilled, milking the cruelty of the moment. You readied to protest-- he reeled back, slamming the whole way home with brutal exertion-- snug to the brim, words lots. Moaning, leaning into his presence, persuading him to stay, holding him hostage within your tightness. His tongue had prepared you for his girth, but not the miles difference in feel and pleasure.
Over and over, he slammed, then stilled.
It felt so, so good, but... It wasn't enough.
Your frame was being wrecked, stuffed, your walls messaged by way of the ribs and bumps along the underside of his spike. He'd taken hold of your thighs, spreading them far apart and adjusting to hilt deeper; it made you feel as though you were going to explode. It was great, so great... You just, needed it faster. Greedily, you bounced your hips back into his, starved. He seemed to tolerate this, letting you do as you pleased for some time, even adapting to meet the sway of your rhythm every other thrust- enjoying the sounds of your jumbled pleas, however, obligated by his vendetta to let you suffer for astro-cycles more before he'd consider caving to them; claws hooking inward on your thighs, a warning to stop.
You didn't.
Indignant, you proceeded, setting a pace that aided your needs since he was transparently unwilling to cater to them.
Quick, sharp lines carved into your limbs, superficial wounds but painful ones.
You only groaned, accustomed to the abuse. Angered by your disobedience, he shoved you forward, pressing you into the ground as he leaned into you, chest to your upper back. Sneering into your audial as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder and braced you by the front, alternate claw maintaining its station on your left thigh.
Feeling as his fangs dug deep and unsparing into the back of your neck. You'd be getting what you'd wished for. Having grated his nerves down to the wire, what finite patience he'd had gone, your resilience insufferable. Enraged thrusts pounded into you with speed- seeing stars as your whole body rocked with each gyration, now thankful for the provided brace of his forearm. His vigor summoning song, a mantra of incoherent slaw spilling from you in strings of uneven tune; howls of ecstasy almost drowned as you faced the floor, nearly scraping it. His jaw holding firm, restricting, punishing in a way that only served to fuel your fervor. The grayed surface of your servos clutched to his for support.
Your second overload triggered, casing hugging close and tempting him.
He didn't slow, ramming through your orgasm, finding ease in the surplus of lubrication afforded to him. Your bodies pulled impossibly close to the other, your internals sure to be bruised through this interface. Your optics flung wide at the feeling of something absurd building, rounding, expanding. The base of his spike struggling to fit inside with each ticking moment. Worrying your lip, you tried to tame the sob bubbling within your intake. His speed dissipating gradually, not out of choice nor spite.
Slowing and slowing until inevitably, he became stuck.
His hips circling and cramming in place, motion stilted, stimulating despite being in all in, despite his knot denying, delaying the lingering urges for volatile clashing.
Blood drawn as his he dug into your thigh, overload overpowering his senses. Hot, seeded fluids spilt in lengthy streams of molten overflow. Stirring concern when it didn't stop, having filled you quickly, achy as you retained ever drop he hadn't the choice but to spare. It just- it gave, and gave, and gave with no end in sight. Quickly becoming too much, stretching what limits you'd thought you'd previously had, testing the true range of your capacity. Overstimulation driving you towards the brink of insanity. Excess defying the knot, spurting out with jarring force from where you connected, painting and pooling the ground below an audacious shade of blue. He finally conceded, stilling to detach his teeth from your neck, nestling his faceplate into the crux of it in what was presumed to be a hazy-minded throw at botched affection.
When the flood cut its flow he rolled onto his back with a loud clatter, taking you with him as he neglected to retract himself. Sprawled on his front, your limbs dangling uselessly, beyond warn from a solar-cycle of fighting for your life and violent sex. Optics blinking, the need for recharge edging near. A claw coming to rest over you possessively, a gruff, sleepy voice informing you that it'd be a considerable amount of time before the knot wore its course.
You accepted this without verbal response, senses and awareness dulled. Swishing a tired limb upward and grabbing onto the back of his hand, digits loosely intertwining before you slipped away into sleep.
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