Archive of Our Own ^beta

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.

…

..

Chapter Text

You roused slowly, feeling sore and used.

Slightly numb and a little dizzy, you made a weak effort to sit up, the weight of two large claws putting a stop to your plans, pressed to your torso and keeping you still. Slowly recalling the past events, you wiggled in his hold- jolting in place when you jostled your hips just the wrong way, feeling a twinge pang from the great pressure still stretching your walls and pressing calipers. The predacon beneath you shifted, hissing softly as you involuntarily tightened around him. Your head rolled to snap upwards, alarmed to find Predaking wide awake and staring down at you with impassive expression.

The servo intertwined with his much larger paw flexed, feeling captive in his bladed tips.

You held gaze with him for sluggish seconds, looking to each other with racing minds fueled by contrasting thoughts. Your attention flickered towards his mouth when the edge twitched, seeming as though he wanted to speak, but ultimately pulled his lips flat in restoration of his poker face.

He regarded you quietly, realizing your discomfort as you continued to shift and shuffle.

His servos slid off you with arduous drag, almost appearing unwilling to release you. Your digits came disconnected from his, a warmth lost. You took your chance to jerk upright with overzealous exertion, flinching from the dull pain in your sore joints, the abrupt transition from lay to sit bringing further discomfort. With this action an odd new ache made itself known; the displacement of the monstrous spike still buried deep in your valve leading a whimper to cliff from your lips. You sat still, letting yourself rest as his sun-yellow optic burnt a trail along your backside. Slowly, flexible daggers crawled up the plain of your back, ghosting over your side with hesitation before settling around your waist. Without asking for protest, he began slowly lifting you off his spike, finding resistance in form of his still-present knot, preventing him from lifting you much further than half an inch above his hips. Though still swollen it was slick and shrunken, meaning with a hard enough yank he could free you. So, yank he did; his rolling grunt was drowned out by your strained "Ah-hh!" As the knot stretched and tugged out of your valve with a vengeful pop. The rest of him slid out with ease, slick with the fluids that'd been welled up inside of you for what you could only guess to have been hours-- wash of liquids splashing out of your uncorked sex to stream down your legs and paint his modesty a fresh coat of blue.

Your balance wavered, and you fell back onto him, both of your respective panels finally reinstating themselves.

He gave you time to recuperate, letting you rest sprawled on him for upwards of some twenty astro-cycles, servo remaining curled around your waist in a resting hold all the while. He began sitting up after a bit, slowly sliding you off of him and standing. You averted your attention elsewhere as he eyed you, fidgeting as he traced the details of your broken frame with his gaze alone.

When it seemed he'd seen enough, he turned, walking a few paces before transforming in one swift flurry of mechanical shifts. He spared you one last lingering glance before trotting the rest of the way towards the cavemouth. Slow to take in the scene, you wobbled to your feet with the pained clench of your denta once you'd realized he was leaving, leaving you here alone in a dead-end crevice wounded and unable to safely transform. You sprinted forth, reaching out just as his massive form tilted to fall from the ledge "Wait!" His body fell out of view, you almost with it in your rush to reach him. You wobbled, struggling for balance in your attempt to not slip forward, spark in your throat with optics blown wide as you took in the gaping thousand-mile swallow that awaited you. A scream yet to peel from your lips froze solid rock in your intake as gravity had its final say, your mass teetering finally forwards into the air, abyssal fall calling to devour you-- A reddish brown blur of leering edges burst to overtake the whole of your vision, darting up and away, powerful gust of wind created in his wake enough to send you flying back into the cave. Stumbling back onto your aft with a clatter, you watched as he soared skyward out of the canyon, disappearing past the lip into the sunset sea of clouds above.

Shaken, you sat, staring after his long-gone frame with a head empty of thoughts.

Mindlessly you stood, shuffling over to the nearest wall and flopping side to it, uncaring as you heard something crack and chip. You curled into yourself, in shock and seeking comfort in your own ruined arms.

Confused, abandoned, lost, and scared.

Confused, thinking back on how things played out.

Abandoned, alone and left to die in a place where you had no hope of escape.

Lost, wondering where the war you'd been fighting so long had gone and how the predacon fit into that puzzle.

Scared, not knowing if he'd left you stuck here only so he could return later and finish what'd been started, succumbing to his assumed nature and crushing your comparatively weak little body between his piercing jaws- slowly draining you of your life source and throwing your crumpled shell to the side like trash when he was done with you. Glancing towards the ledge and suddenly finding temptation in the swift mercy of death by fall. You shook your helm of that toxic thought almost as quickly as it came; your situation was grim, but there was always a chance, and with chances came choices. If you got that chance and made the right choices, you could make it out of here, you could survive this. You had to survive this, if for no reason other than answering your many lingering questions.

Knees tucked to your chassis, you brought your hands up to rub your faceplate, trying to get yourself together and make room for clear thought in your whirling mind. Just how were you going to make it out of here? You thought back to training, back to the countless other times you found yourself in tricky situations. You searched for similar scenarios in your memory banks, seeking wisdom in experience from yourself. You couldn't find anything to the exact letter of 'Buried alive, attacked, trapped, fucked, trapped again' but you could consult memories of being attacked and subsequently trapped in tight spaces. Cornered by gun-toting bots, not giant monsters with rows of teeth longer and lengthier than the whole of your torso.

Right.

You sighed, rolling onto your back, looking down at your heavily scratched and chipped arms as they pooled loose in your lap-- cosmetic damage apparent in your decayed, cracked paint. Even your insignia was grayed and sickly in color. You must've looked like the walking dead; you sure felt like it.

You popped open an internal hub, prompting your systems to run a diagnostic.

A cold static rolled through you as your body checked itself, electric pulsing throb lingering to let you feel injuries you couldn’t see. The results made you grimace.

You'd sustained heavy internal damage in a variety of places, from the tops of your arms to the bottom of your pedes. Most concerning of which being the damage you'd sustained to your torso, finding your mid-body battered back to front, inside and out; burnt casing, cracked protoform, torn wiring, twisted cabling, busted cogs, bent pistons, and so much more afflicting you. Little to say your suspicions were confirmed-- If you were to attempt full transformation in this state, you'd likely tear yourself apart in the process.

Most conventional means of escape fully eliminated; you glanced about. However, your surroundings did not change. No convenient exit made itself magically apparent, you were still in a dead-end cave pocket, with your only possible route being a drop of unknown heights. Might as well... Give it some... Consideration. It was only logical. Tactical...? Ah, whatever. You got up slow, pressed to the wall as you inched towards the ledge, servo draped over the gash in your torso. Hesitant, you leaned your front forward to look down into the ravine, arm to the wall coming up to grip a protruding edge to keep your balance and anchor yourself to a solid surface. You couldn't see the bottom. The perilous drop told no tales of its end, deep dark stretched beyond what the eye could see; a blue mist seeping upwards in wisps from the depths to further obscure what may lay below. The lack of something to render made your vision tunnel and blur, pull of fall calling for you to empty what little lay in your tanks with dizzy sickness. Forcibly tearing your gaze from the abyss, you turned to tilt your head upwards, mile of carved metal wall expanding to kiss the great dying sky as far as you could gleam.

You considered climbing the great wall for all but two seconds before looking down, down into what could be, and pulling yourself back into the cavern in a none-verbal display of 'nope'. You'd have to resign yourself to waiting for him to return. The potential fall presented the result of certain death; he, presented the result of possible death. Those were your options, maybe death vs. definite death. Not great odds, but you'd take your chances. If he didn't return? Though you doubted you'd make it, doubted that your arms would last holding your weight, you'd be forced to risk the climb.

So, you waited.

And waited,

And waited...

Tucked away tight into the farthest possible corner of the cavern, you stared straight out into the empty, waiting for the beat of thunderous wings, the fire flicker glow of one good eye. Neither came. The setting sky gave way to night, swirls of pink-purple melded burnt orange fading into black slick slew that left you huddled in near complete darkness. The blue mist still glowed, creeping higher in elevation with the cool spur of night, curling the cusp of the ledge, crawling along the floor, and daring to nestle against you. Damaged and depleted of reserves, you could only hold guard so long before the pull of maintenance recharge sought to tax you. Unwilling, you lulled into the false comforts offered by the clouding mist as it obscured your view of the entrance; your worries becoming nothing more than thin strings of blue light in your wandering mind, forced into falling forward full into the up-down, upside-down.

….

…

You woke with a start, ripped from a dreamless sleep, volting upright into a straight-backed sit.

Wild eyes flickered to light, shooting around the rocky space until they'd landed on the source of the thunderous rumble that'd woke you. The mechanical dragon stood at a distance, having landed moments prior, massive wingspan stretching outward as far as the tunnel would allow with one last powerful flap before folding in tight against his scaly back. His neck bowed and snaked lower to level with your gaze, lone eye fixing on your startled face. He made to approach, two full ground-shaking steps nearly enough to close the distance between you and his horned mantle.

You were unable to press closer to the corner than you already were, though not for a lack of trying.

He noticed your attempts to coil away from his imposing figure, halting mid-step and observing your tensed form. A growl peeled from his stiff lipless maw, unable to communicate with much other than beast-tongue in his current shape. You flinched in response. He remained still for some seconds, thinking on his intended actions, then stretching his neck out closer, and dropping a chunk of something previously unseen at your feet. You watched from over the tops of your knees as he turned away afterward, not daring to move until he'd crossed the room once more, seating himself at the entrance; long body taking up a majority of the cave, even as he lay turned away from you. You slowly readjusted yourself, hesitant to take your eyes off him as you moved to tuck your stabilizers beneath you. Your optics peeled away from him when you'd settled, flicking back up at him in paranoia only once before your full attention finally deviated to focus on the item delivered to you.

Bright blue dirt covered crystal cluster: Energon.

A raw energon deposit.

Chipped, incomplete, and lightly coated in a fine layer of oral lubricant.

How.. Appetizing.

Sarcasm aside, you were floored by this unexpected development.

You peered up at him, a question on your tongue. You were almost tempted to actually ask, ask many different things. Ask why he hadn't eaten you yet; why he hadn't eaten you prior; why he was suddenly playing host, and buckets of bowlful questions more pertaining to his every action as of late. The survivalist in you had you holding your tongue, thinking it best not to risk irritating the beast with your boon of query- lest you tempt him into changing his mind and pushing away whatever reasoning was barring him from devouring your helpless self in the first place. Tearing your gaze away, you reached down, cupping your hands under the cluster and lifting the hearty hunk closer for inspection, lip curling as you tried to wipe away viscous globs of saliva only to have your servo coated in dirt-mixed goo. You.. Well, according to your prior diagnostic, you were in desperate need of fuel; your remaining tank was at a dangerous low. You'd have to soldier through this one. You assured yourself that the faster you got it over with, the faster your lesser wounds would heal-- hell, your colors might even return.

You cherished the thought.

Setting your jaw you stared down at the slimy mineral, calculating how long it'd take for you to suffer through eating the whole of it. Disguising your hesitation from yourself as something else.

Just,

Do it.

CRUNCH

A loud crackle sounded as you bit down, teeth sunk into the crystal, alarmed by the noisy breach, eyes flying forward to see him still resting unbothered with his head lain on his claws. You relaxed, slowly crunching the rest of the way down.

The experience was painful.

Both as in, painfully awkward, with the only audible thing in the near radius being the violent chewing of rock sourced from you and, literally painful. You could feel when you hadn't grounded it down enough; sharp shards of paste scraping down your intake to leave long scratches all the way down, adding to your ever-growing list of injuries. You got through it, though.. Eventually.

With something finally in your tanks, beginning the process of breaking down what you couldn't with your teeth, you felt a sort of domestic relief. You didn't know why he did it, sure, but you could still be grateful for a sated hunger. The deep fear of his gnashing teeth quelled in you, not completely dissipating, just leveling into safe caution. He had still tried to eat you. Your thoughts wandered from there, glazing over what you were previously reluctant to in survival mode. His tongue, writhing in your valve, thick excess length coasting over your node every so often. His spike, at first experienced only through pressure as it slid up along your exposed modesty, able to make you twitch and plea with the feel of it alone. His body, great in power and weight, pressing down onto your back, keeping you flush to the ground as he railed your comparatively light frame into the floor. You briefly thought about his teeth, how they'd breached your line so gently when they were capable of so much more. Last mental stop being the lock that'd kept you swollen with his release, knot keeping you full of what was surely meant to seep deeper and trigger reproduction protocols. The thought of being so recklessly bred made you shiver.

You became conscious of the fact that you were becoming decently heated below the figurative belt.

Blinking the haze behind your eyes away, you let your attention crawl back to the real Predaking, resting still as he was, you had to wonder if he'd fallen into recharge. Was it wrong to think about such lurid things when he was only feet away? When he was the one who crafted these memories that left you so mentally engrossed? Pondering the decency of your arousal as if you weren't already boiling with it.

You're really fucked up, huh?

You shifted, twisting the wrong way when trying to make yourself comfortable, hissing in discomfort as you were forced to remember your dry yet still gaping wound. You could look forward to it healing, if only shallowly, soon enough thanks to your resurgence in fuel. It seemed your vocalization of pain was the straw that broke the camel's back, great thorned skull lifting to 180° in your direction. You still couldn't help but freeze-up under his gaze, now overwhelmed more with embarrassment than fear, legs subtly squeezing together in feeble hopes that he couldn't pick up on your heat.

He got up, stiltedly padding in your direction, and stopping just short of you-- stiffening as if something had struck him. You had to crane your neck to a painful degree in order to reciprocate his pointed watch, taking in just how towering his beast-form was up close. He made a noise akin to sniffing, snorting in response to what his olfactory sensors were telling him, bending his neck to near his snout closer to you. Spooked when his jaw slacked open inches from your face, oral lubricant dripping from his mouth, a shuttering trill keened into open air. It didn’t take long for you to catch on to the fact that he had indeed picked up on your heat. Your vents kicked up on high as he stuffed his fanged head into your lap, trying without applying much force to part your legs. You shivered, a familiar tongue peeking from between his teeth to tease the warmed plate doing its best to conceal the tempered slick building beneath it.

You spared a thought to the morality of the compromising situation.

…

You decided you didn't give a damn.

Audacious only in mind, you spaced your legs apart with needless diffidence. He was much less shy, taking the given initiative, and shoving his face into your crotch, spreading you wide for the taking. For him to take, only him. Possessive, his teeth pushed front to your torso to keep you resting where you were, length of metal-grey tongue darting from his maw to slither overtop what was hidden from him-- What he could smell but not yet taste. Glossa peaked between paneling, dexterous in the way they toyed with your wires, trying to coax you into gifting him free reign over what he so craved to taste yet again. He didn't have to do much convincing; you were just as eager to re-live true events made fantasy in memory. Your modesty panel slid off, the outer plush of your sex wet with liquid anticipation. To your surprise, his tongue withdrew before he could sample you, new trill sounding, and distorting into a demonic groan that rattled his plating as he near vibrated in place. He curled back and into himself as he began transforming, eclipsing over you as he came into place. An arm shot forth and slammed into the wall just shy of your head, cracking rock with the force behind the movement. Fright reignited; a twisted pulse of excitement shooting down and fanning the flames of your heat; you stared with widened optics as he leaned into your space, hunger burning behind the glass of his eye. His gaunt features took up the whole of your vision as his lips met yours, starstruck as he delved light into your derma, leaving you stunned after receiving what was possibly the gentlest kiss he was able to give.

He was keen to let you stew in your shock, dipping down, taking your hips in his palms and dragging you forward to lay on your back as he adjusted to be all but a breath away from your dripping valve. You could do little but look down at him with need, anticipating action, arms bent uselessly at each side of your helm. His jaw came slacked just as before; sharp teeth barely seen as they peaked from behind pale cracked lips; mouth closing briefly to swallow down excess lubricant he couldn't help but produce as he continued to filter your salacious scent through his olfactory sensors. His attention crawled upwards, slowly, taking in the details of your body as it went, bright-white circular iris eventually landing on your face. He drank in your wanton glare, smoldering gaze of his own almost enough to make you melt- if only you weren't already boiling. His blazing eye was intent on keeping watch over your expression as he nosed closer, tongue falling from his open mouth to smooth a taunting strip up your dewy lower lips. A small noise left you, encouragement to the one so kindly, so gently, drawing his rough tongue up from the bottom to the top of your charged arousal. He was overeager to lap up the nectar secreting from your slit, but restrained himself, more eager to watch you twitch and squeak. He was savoring every little reaction he could tweak out of you; happy to let you squirm until you finally caught the hint and begged for more.

He wanted you to use your words.

Truthfully, he wanted to hear his names fall from your lips. He'd never heard his name spoken in such a way as you'd spoken it before. He wanted to hear it again. He wanted to hear his name spilt with such lust and desperation, designation sullied in such a filthy, intimate way. And to be frank, it was your voice he craved to hear painting his title with such an amorous brush. Maybe that’s why he came back, came back bearing what would keep you kicking. An initial action that'd confused him just as much as you.

One could suppose you were both touch-starved lovers clinging to first-time experiences.

Continuing to be naïve of his wishes, you could only mewl as his glossa dragged slow and particularly hard each time it came in contact with your anterior node. Mustering patience as the tip of his tongue dipped shallowly into your valve, tempting your hips to struggle upwards in hopes of feeling the appendage puncture you deeper. It was of little use and null reward. You had to wonder how he was able to control himself so well; how he was he able to contain himself when he'd been drooling in light of picking up on so little as your scent. You were distracted, sure, but your certain you hadn't heard his modesty retract yet. Your mind wound down a dirty trail in result of that thought. Your optics fluttered as you imagined what his panels kept hidden. As his tongue smeared along your heat, you imagined his spike in its place, grinding against you as you craved the whole of its length. You imagined its bumps and ribs sliding along your node in the same pleasant ways they had prior. You thought back to when it'd finally pierced your walls, so rough and forceful. You moaned at the thought of his hips slamming against your aft as he rammed into you, stretching you so wide over and over again.

You coughed static and reflexively clamped your thighs around his head as he abruptly sucked on your node, hard, tearing you from your fantasies entirely.

Your optics refocused and flitted to etch his face, finding him staring back at you with a knowing look, having caught you in the clouds. You weren't given time to dwell on some semblance of embarrassment, or much of anything else for that matter, as he delved into your channel, pinching your sensitive button between the back of his intruding tongue and top denta. You twitched as the sharp line of teeth unintentionally pushed down onto your node; a passive threat, one that let you feel a microscopic pinprick of the warped fear-thrill you'd last felt not but minutes ago, when he'd shattered stone. You jutted your hips upwards, unable to help yourself as he took to sucking in on your node repeatedly, fat pauses serving as intermission in-between bouts of suction. Your calipers were spared much less reprieve as his tongue darted about inside you with daunting vigor, showing no mercy as he relearned your spots and toyed with all he could reach with his lesser tongue, making up for lack of length and comparative girth with determined tenacity. He reveled in the little noises you spouted, circling back to spear particular spots when you would pipe up in response to his efforts, almost writhing in his hold as you keened for more. He grunted as your thighs squeezed and relaxed around his helm, letting them remain as he ate you out.

You could feel tension building, charge pooling in your abdomen, extra slick being produced only to be sucked away in your lover's thirst to devour all you spilt. The inevitable loomed, and with the way you were so feverishly bleating he could tell. He flexed his hold on your waist, trying to settle your jolting hips so he didn't accidentally find his teeth sinking into your array. You still jittered and spasmed, whining for release. You hissed out a sputtered sound of betrayal as he pulled away from your pulsing sex, irritation quick to rise through frustration. He only.. Laughed? It was a subtle single-note noise, but you swear you heard it. You mustered the strength to lift your head and glare at him, ire seeking to punctuate your displeasure-- though your microbe of rage was squashed as a clawed digit found your node, head thrown back to clatter against the ground as flat point pressed and furiously worked you towards a speedy overload.

Out of all the overloads you'd experienced in your time with him, this one was certainly the least impressive. Yet you still squirmed, biting down hard on your lip as you felt a wave of white-hot heat shock up your frame. You'd bitten down so hard, in fact, that you could taste the unmistakable tart of blood blotting your tongue. If Predaking had noticed the blood scent, he was too busy lapping away your juices to care.

He rose only when he was satisfied with the job.

A thick sticky string of saliva strung from him to you as he withdrew, your eyes loosely following the rope as it bent long and snapped, falling far and becoming insignificant as you reverted to relishing in the sight of his broad body between your legs; resting sat up on his folded knees. You'd be abashed to admit you were ogling, taking second-hand pleasure in his powerful frame. He ducked, disrupting your thoughts, his eye trained on your busted lip as it oozed a neon blue trail that seeped down your chin. An arm bent to plant itself above your helm, his forearm dwarfing yours beside it. He took up your space, face to face, lips barely distanced. You didn't wait for him to lean the rest of the way in, impatient as you were to feel his anything on yours in every possible way. Kiss needy and inexperienced. You didn't get to lead for long before his much more accomplished tongue brute-forced yours out of the way and seized your mouth, the erotic mix of blood-energon colluding with tangy overload to create an intoxicating tonic of taste coating your tongues. The both of you became wildly fervent with the mixed slosh of flavor, messy dance for territory becoming dangerous as he growled, tempted to bring his teeth into play; tempted to split your lip or perhaps even his own just to keep the bittersweet swirling savor alive. Then again, he'd have to even the taste with your sweet release to achieve this same carnal mixture once more.. Not an idea he was averted to in the slightest.

Your servos blindly pathed along his pauldrons, hooking comfortably around the base of his neck, pulling yourself closer to escalate the already deep kiss. Welcoming him to bite you if he so wished, to suck, to eat, to make you mewl.

His spare arm curled further around to support your waist, lifting your lower-half closer to his with ease, curled claws lightly pressing into your torso. A wispy moan drew from your vocalizer and died between the two of you in your messy connection as his aching panel grazed your exposed folds, modesty hot to the touch, heating your node with such enticing temperature. Thin streaks of blue strained to leak through the seams of his interface, smearing into blotches as he humped his concealed array against your much less protected one with frenzied abandon. A shiver raking up your frame in response, shaky stabilizers meekly wrapping overtop his hips in silent tell for him not to stop- to give you more, even.

He hated to seem heavy-handed but, well, you clearly weren't getting the memo nor seemed to be in the state of mind to catch on anytime soon; so, he pulled his lips from yours, unprovoked aggression spurred through desperate impatience drawing an insincere snarl to scrawl his features "My name," he growled "say it." came his demand, beautifully baritone voice sounding labored with restraint. You were more than ready to comply. It's not like you weren't already calling to him with incoherent keens and coos anyhow. "Predaking!" You near shouted, desperate, tone underlined with crackle, struggling to tame your vocals as his panel continued to smash with clamber against you in mock simulation of the coming plunge you so desired. A relieved groan accompanied the sound of his modesty retracting frighteningly fast, pressurized spike sprung free of its confines, causing a surprised squeak to peel from you as his monster of an instrument suddenly slotted itself betwixt your abused lips in all its rigid ribbed glory.

He didn’t make you wait; he didn't have the patience for any more games, and neither did you.

His hips came back, spike sliding along your moistened slit; sloppily aligning himself, tip rearing to split and spear, then slamming into you with such a fearsome snap you felt a portion of your damaged internals rattle. Your head flung to roll sideward, silent static cry stretching your lips into a howling-o-shape, brow scrunched as your optics flickered. He stretched you so nice, bumps snagging on calipers, ribs massaging sensors, not to mention his spaded head tenderly squashed to your ceiling node. Relishing in all the sexual sorts of satisfactory sensation only his spike could enable you to experience. For a morsel of time, you were both frozen-stiff in place; mutually basking in the benefits of the other lover, seeming almost sated with mere insertion, savoring the peaceful bliss of the moment and how oddly right it felt to be joined like this. So close, so warm, far from release yet content to linger. The servo curved around your side scraped over your aft, pulling you closer and securing his hold on you. A pulsing twitch ran up his ramrod phallus, tweaked deep in your folding depths, the last and only warning you received before the idealistic quiet was broken; before bliss was amplified beyond the shattered, detailed stillness you'd both cozied into. He must've been taking notes last time, an excellent study, because he jolted into action with little to no regard for rhythm or pacing-- having clearly interpreted your craving to be recklessly unsteady sex. Slamming, jamming into your valve like you were a hare in heat, and he was the lucky buck who'd found you. You certainly weren't left wanting this time around. Not as he sunk into you quick and deep, your legs falling away to be splayed as they were predictably unable to cling or tame his fast-snapping hips, what with the dubious latch they'd had on him in the first place; left bobbing limply and loose, heels of your pedes clanking on rock every so often. With this acceleration of events, a tandem of noises merged mewling hybrids from your vocalizer, echoing up your metal-made throat pitched, blended between heady puffs. His own low, undiscernible grumbles and grunts encouraged to smooth crooning from his lips. Your whirling vents almost louder sounding in volume than his accented whispers, temptation to shut them stirring to mind (despite knowing how well that surely wouldn't end for you).

It was truly a chaotic cacophony of sound spurred by an elicit eruption of action.

Head still lain to the side in rest, left cheek smooshed to the cold and suspiciously damp floor, you felt his lips ghosting over the unhidden plane of your right cheek. His hushed noises becoming yet more quiet as he loomed reticent. A fleeting sense of disappointment washing you in brief mourning of his heavenly, sonorous groans. That was, until you realized just what he was doing. He was listening, listening intently as you unconsciously babbled incomplete praises beneath your 'breath', much louder sounds peeling from you and flooding his audial as this beast of a mecha effortlessly fucked your brains out. Something compelled him to reciprocate.

"You take me well, so well I fear I’ll be unable to stop."

His claw tightened inward around your aft, leaving a short trail of shallow scratches.

"Your body clings to me so tightly, so in need of me, so greedy yet so enticing. Irresistible."

He came closer, mouth directly above your audial now.

"I share your hunger, and I wish to see you swell with all I may give, though strangers we may be. I ask you now, before you are too far gone, do you wish to be swollen? Do you wish for me to irrevocably intertwine us once more?"

If that was his fancy, over the top way of asking if you wanted him to knot you again, you were in. You nodded dumbly; body lax as you let him do most of the work. Mind wandering to dangerous places as you dissected the meaning behind his strange words and the deeper implications behind the concept of knotting as a whole; all the while functioning off a sex-addled processor that frayed any thought that dared be more complex than 'that feels good, please don’t stop'.

Not that you had to worry about him stopping, he seemed pretty determined to outlast you.

He spared you no reprieve through your second overload, huffing in acknowledgment as you tightened and spasmed around him, as if expecting him to crumble and spill with you in sync. Though your walls squeezed and begged to milk him, his resolve didn’t shake. He wasn't going to stop until you were primed to take it all, until you were ready to endure the knot for the whole of its cycle. Even if you weren't going to recycle his C.N.A. Though the thought of his seeded fluids feeding and filling your forge to the brim, triggering reproductive protocols, did stir equally different positive reactions from the both of you. An approving, guttural purr from his engines, and a stuttering rev from yours. He would never have considered the idea of mating with someone of your kind before, but now as you lay beneath him, it's all he can think about. Your all he can focus on. It was too late for first impressions, but he'd see you nursed back to full health; he'd repair your image of him, and he'd court you proper then.

He decided to let up a little in consideration of your slouched frame, readjusting. Sitting back up on his knees, spreading them in a widened stance for support, pulling your lower half into his lap with both jagged paws grappling your thighs; your knees hooked over his arms. Fresh from peak stimulation and hyper-sensitive, you couldn't muster the strength to squirm as he settled into a steady pace, rough but not quite slow. Just right. Your tired optics watched as he pulled and pushed in and out of you, fucking you with purpose, beyond exhausted but not wanting him to stop. Your mantra of whims and whines fizzled out, your vocalizer overworked, though you worked with what short-lived clarity your second overload had given to you; choosing to take advantage of it before your thoughts devolved into lustful scribbles once more. You scratchily chanted his name every other odd pump into your sex, cheering him on as he didn't fail once to massage all your little spots. It was true you had little experience to speak on when it came to interfacing, but honestly, you'd be content to believe him to be the best at it for the rest of your life. The thought of doing this with anyone else became comical.

….

…

It was a blur; time had passed yet the activity remained the same.

The light in the cave had shifted, deeper shadows and tinted sunshade rivaling to color the tunnel, suggesting noon. He'd pulled a third and fourth overload from you sometime during the flurry.

He'd also switched positions.

He sat with his back to the wall, hands on your hips as he bounced you on his spike. Your servos clung to his chassis for dear life, head bobbing against his pointed chest as you were jolted up and down at staggering velocity. 'Numbed bliss' described your features, eyes closed shut and lips parted as broken static was all that managed to whirr from your vocals any longer. You felt one of his claws crawl up your frame, taking hold of your face and cupping your cheek to turn your attention upwards, a delicate thumb edging its pointed tip under your eyelid "Look at me." you struggled to online your optics, but they came to light eventually "Know who breeds you; do not close your eyes, and do not look away." A sweltering twang struck and loitered within your channel in response to his words, electrical commands buzzing up your valve, something shifting and unlocking within. Your body had made yet another choice for you. You stared into each other's eyes with knowing, lust, desire, and even some trickle of surprise in his case. You could correct your body's mistake, you could ask him to stop, you're sure he'd back down if you tried to push him away. But you didn't push him away.

A snarl pulled his lips as he neared release, spouts of pre-fluids flushing up into your sex. He bent into you, neck craning so he could shove his face between the crux of your neck and shoulder. You could feel his sneer on your cables, teeth just barely grazing your throat. A dark desire popping to mind. It took a few tries, resetting your vocalizer, a squeaked whisper finally straining from you "Bi-te m-e." You barely stuttered out.

He was more than compliant.

He bit down, gentler than last time, yet still drawing droplets of blood by fault of his pointed fangs meant for rip and tear. Your back arched, leaning into his touch as he still held your face; your own servos coming to shakily curl and clutch around his helm to keep him where he was. Surprisingly, he ceased bouncing you when his knot began to form, keeping you seated on the whole of his length as the base expanded. He let you feel as it slowly fattened, stretching, somehow becoming thicker than his already imposing girth. You twitched and shivered, fighting off the need to offline your optics. He laved and sucked at your cabling, so subtly kissing your plating in silent praise. Ropes of magma shot up into your valve, pulsing and pulsing, painting your insides and striking deeper in you than before. Your capacity was exceeded quickly, though this time instead of streaming from your connection, the wash of transfluids seeped in and pooled into your forge. What was too much for you before felt pleasantly filling now. You felt sated, a rolling purr growling from his engines to tell you he did as well. 

A small, garbled stretch of static creaking from your vocals as his jaws relented, one last sweeping drag of his serpentine tongue gifted before he pulled back to tuck his head over yours, hand on your face trailing down to crest over your shoulder, sinking further to rest on the small of your back, drawing circles into your plating. Wrapping his other servo around you to hold you closer, grip tight but comforting. 

Resting on him, forge full of his seed, held close, you felt... Safe. 

"Sleep." He spoke softly, urging you to rest.

You didn't need to be told twice.

You fell slack against him, tucked away in the arms of a predacon.

Your future uncertain, but bright.

…

..