Schreibaufgabe: OTP (Yay!)

[naboru-narluin.livejournal.com]

Fandom: Transformers (G1)
Challenge: Schreibaufgabe: Schreib dein OTP aus deinem derzeitigen Lieblingsfandom in deinem Lieblingsgenre
Pairings: Blast Off/Vortex
Rating: PG-13-M
Warnungen: PWP (kinda), smut (of the plug’n’play variety)

Kommentar: Nicht gebetat. Yay, hate-sex. *lol* Ich wollte unbedingt noch was zu dieser Challenge schreiben und Tadaa… hier ist es. Das Ende ist allerdings scheiße, aber ich bin müde, und ich brauchte ein Ende. Außerdem wäre vermutlich alles Weitere in die BDSM Richtung gegangen und dazu ist es für mich grad wirklich zu spät… und vll wär das auch gegen die Communityregeln. *lol*

Attention: Roboter Sex - aka intimacy between androgynous, mechanical beings who use male pronouns to describe themselves aka: Don’t like it, don’t read it!

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Blast Off pressed him harder to the berth, knowing it would block Vortex’ intakes, and the hot metal beneath him would become even hotter. He didn’t care about that, and he knew Vortex didn’t care either. The ‘copter loved the pain, loved the thrill, and Blast Off might make him burn, so that his core melted.

As if this was his purpose, he leant low, his chest plates pressing onto the rotor blades, sending the vibration straight through them.

Vortex moaned loudly. He was forbidden to talk. It was Blast Off’s way to prevent himself from hearing the ‘copter’s words. Words which were disgusting, obscene and exciting.

Blast Off hated himself for that. That he did what he did, that he hadn’t been able to resist - again.

His free hand grabbed around a rotor, squeezing it hard, before he bent hit down, causing pain and arousal, which was sent right back into him through the open bond.

He shivered, his engine revved, stimulating his own body and the one lying under him.

Blast Off hated it. He hated that he had become - what he was now. He hated what Vortex had done to him, and what he did to Vortex.

“I hate you!” Blast Off panted, static-laden.

Vortex laughed softly, a sound which sent shudders over Blast Off’s chassis. “I know.”

“Shut up!”

Another chuckle, followed by a moan.

“Just shut the frag up…!”

It was disgusting what they did. Disgusting, irritating, wrong, but it felt so good, and for the instant Blast Off thought that Vortex was right when he had said, the shuttle should stop thinking too much.

He stroked over the full length of Vortex’ side, deliberately ignoring the pulsating interface panel. Over the bond he sent a pulse of his own arousal, and let Vortex know that he wasn’t about to establish the connection yet.

Blast Off could wait; his need wasn’t as strong as that of the ‘copter, who squirmed beneath him, his frame growing hotter by every astrosecond.

Blast Off was going to make him wait, to make him melt.

Opening his side of it further, he transmitted another burst of arousal, but also the knowing that he didn’t cling on this sensation as Vortex did. That he could leave any moment if he wanted to, and that he would if Vortex broke the rules.

It wasn’t that Vortex disliked it.

The ‘copter loved mental and physical torture exactly the same…

Blast Off bent another rotor blade, earned another moan, and he liked this sound, too. That was when Blast Off agreed: He shouldn’t think so much, he should just do.

And again he reached the point, where he decided that he didn’t hate it at all…


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Danke fürs Lesen. :)