a head-swimming "i need you"
transformers ;; ratchlock ;; wc: 309 ;; NSFW, not much else to say about it.
back to writing! read it on tumblr!
“Oh!” Ratchet gasped, feeling the Decepticon fill him. Deadlock’s servos grope at his aft, claws digging into the metal, leaving behind scratch marks. Ratchet was downright manhandled, his hips being raised up before harshly slammed back down on the spike. It was– well, it was violent, but it was also probably the best sex he’d ever had. The medic’s optics flickered, and he let out breathless screams with each movement.
Deadlock, not known for being humble, knew he was doing a good job. Ratchet would not deny that, would not take that from him. It would just also be nice if he could shut up for a second. Was he always such a gloater?
“Like it, don’t you,” he hissed, and even once Ratchet’s optics offlined, he could tell the assassin was smirking. “That’s it, take that spike. You’re being such a good slut for me. So, so good.” For as harsh as the treatment had been, and as full of himself as he’d sounded, he was actually being… nice. “You look so fucking pretty, taking it like this. Absolutely perfect for it. You’re my good bot, aren’t you? My good Ratty.”
“Yours,” the medic found himself agreeing, a bit mindlessly.
“Fuck,” Deadlock hissed, moving one servo from Ratchet’s aft to toy with a headlight. The ambulance shuddered, which Deadlock took as a good sign. “Like that?”
“Yes,” Ratchet panted, “yes, I like it, I like you.”
It kinda just slipped out. In the moment, Ratchet wasn’t even that pressed about it. But then Deadlock made a sound the medic could only possibly describe as possessive, and ground his hips upwards, the tip of his spike pressing against Ratchet’s gestation chamber. It was only then that Ratchet really comprehended the words that had fallen out of him.
“Pretty mech, you have no idea,” Deadlock growled, and redoubled his efforts.