i love you, a secret between you and me
transformers ;; ratchlock ;; wc: 418 ;; NSFW, this was one of the first smut fics i ever posted.
back to writing! read it on tumblr!
"Deadlock!" Ratchet shouted, clinging onto the Decepticon. Said Decepticon was pounding into the medic, claws dragging down his back, biting into his shoulder. "Deadlock," Ratchet sobbed, finding himself unable to say anything but the other's name. The assassin's presence was so overwhelming, taking over every sense Ratchet had- all he could see, hear, feel, it was all Deadlock. All he could think about, too, was Deadlock.
"So good," Deadlock groaned, thrusting up into him. Ratchet looked good like this, in the larger's lap, clinging onto him for dear life. "So fucking good, doc." One of his claws punctured the metal of Ratchet's back, drawing energon, and the medic yelped at the feeling. "So pretty. Wanna keep you here, all mine."
"Yours," Ratchet panted, "Deadlock, Deadlock, yours, please-"
"Wanna fill you up," Deadlock whispered back, voice strained, hushed. "Wanna keep you full and dripping, wanna-" he paused, letting out a groan. "Ratchet, I'm not letting you go. I'm not."
"Don't let me go," Ratchet pleaded, definitely delirious to some extent. "Please, keep me, please-"
"Not even after your heat is over," Deadlock let out, growling. Because that was really what started this. Under normal circumstances, Ratchet wouldn't do this with him- being on different sides of the war was enough to assure that. But when Deadlock found him like this, abandoned by his team, dripping, mindless, begging, really seriously begging, the war was the last thing on either of their minds. But Primus, Deadlock didn't want to let him go when it was over, didn't want things to just go back to how they were before.
So he wouldn't. He was already picturing it, a little hideout, just for them. They could be together and Ratchet could be his little conjunx-in-spirit, constantly full of Deadlock's transfluid, constantly dripping, all for him- all for him-
"Deadlock!" Ratchet moaned, tightening his grip on the assassin as his spike thrust in deeper, again, again, again. He let out a broken scream, his valve clamping down around Deadlock, shaking as his overload rolled over him.
Deadlock bit into the Autobot's neck, holding him in a crushing grip as his own overload approached, and he thrust his spike as deep as it could go as it finally hit. He stayed as still as he could, and Ratchet let out an exhausted moan feeling the transfluid fill his forge.
Deadlock kept Ratchet held there as the two came down from their respective highs. Little hideout, him and Ratchet, just like this, everyday.
A mech can dream.