caiusbackup (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
caiusbackup) wrote2011-08-07 12:28 am
caiusbackup) wrote2011-08-07 12:28 am
Entry tags:
FIC: In Defiance of Geometry and Common Sense, Motormaster/Breakdown, NC-17
Title: In Defiance of Geometry and Common Sense
Fandom: Transformers G1
Pairing: Motormaster/Breakdown
Rating: NC-17 for sticky porn, size kink, and possibly uncomfortable power dynamics
Word Count: c. 1200
Summary: Sequel to Toys. Breakdown convinces Motormaster to penetrate him. Pure PWP.
Notes: Originally written back in April, I only just dug it out of my files and gave it a bit more editing.
He led a team full of morons.
Motormaster had thought that, despite his cowardice and scrambled verbal processor, Breakdown had a chip or two of sense in him. More than Drag Strip or Wildrider, anyway.
But this was just ridiculous. And it was interfering with Motormaster getting off.
"Basic geometry, Breakdown! This," he tapped his spike, "Is not going to fit into THERE. You know what happened to Wildrider." He struck the rim of Breakdown's valve with a finger bigger than Breakdown's own useless little spike--which was on full display, presumably to convince Motormaster that Breakdown really wanted this.
As if Motormaster gave a slag. He didn't take his Stunticons to berth for their pleasure, and certainly not to indulge fetishes that would leave them all vulnerable--and Motormaster humiliated.
Even if he'd started taking Breakdown to berth more often when he noticed that Breakdown actually seemed to enjoy and welcome his attentions.
That was neither here nor there, though. He grabbed the white thighs and slid his spike between them, enjoying the friction against the tiny valve, already charged and leaking against him.
Slag, that felt good. Motormaster thrust harder, ignoring Breakdown's efforts at reciprocation to pull his thighs closer, tighter, angling him so that he could make longer strokes, rubbing the full length of his spike against that tiny wet port. Breakdown's engine rumbled, almost dangerously--but he'd never hurt Motormaster while he was doing this, never even tried.
Clamping his legs around Breakdown's to keep him in the right position--not that Breakdown was trying to move away--Motormaster moved his hands up for better leverage, squeezing Breakdown's shoulder-tires hard as he pounded him into the berth. Almost enough now--!
"Motormaster," Breakdown moaned, almost too softly to be heard over the clang of Motormaster taking him. "Yes--!" And then Breakdown's thighs clamped even tighter around him, his port got even hotter and slicker, his engine vibrations more powerful, as he overloaded.
Oh, slag, yes. This was why he took Breakdown to berth more often than the others. It only took Motormaster a few more hard strokes, his hands shifting to Breakdown's arms so they wouldn't rupture the tires, to reach his own overload. He took a few moments to savor it, enjoying the aftershocks and the hot willing Stunticon under him, then rolled off and turned away. He was done, Breakdown was dismissed.
"Motormaster?" Breakdown asked--probably emboldened by having Motormaster's back turned to him. "Please, just try. I'm all wet and relaxed now, I'm sure it'll fit...please, Motormaster."
Motormaster grunted. He knew he should just throw Breakdown out of the berth, but Breakdown begging for him, talking about his valve like that when he still had Breakdown's lubricant all over the top of his spike, had him turned on again, had him thinking about actually being in there. "You're not even going to be able to take my finger." Motormaster said, but he was already reaching back and tossing Breakdown to the berth in front of him.
"Thank you!" Breakdown said, spreading his legs wide.
"Don't thank me yet." Motormaster reached over and shoved the finger in.
He'd thought trying to shove it all in at once would discourage Breakdown from pestering him further--without breaking anything important--but instead it went in easily, and Breakdown just moaned and arched up against him.
That was interesting. And also hot. "Don't move." He put his other hand down on top of Breakdown's pelvic plating, pinning him in place as he started fragging him with his finger. Slag. Motormaster stared at the opening as it easily stretched around his finger, a finger that could only barely touch the bottom of the valve. Breakdown kept making undignified sounds of pleasure. Motormaster shoved a second finger in next to the first.
"Motormaster!" Breakdown moaned, and it was a very, very good thing that Motormaster had just overloaded, or he would be extremely tempted to just forget everything and shove his spike in right then and there. As it was, Motormaster just fingered faster, pressing against the valve walls to try to figure out how far he could stretch them.
Far enough, he decided, and he pulled the fingers out and grabbed Breakdown's legs, pulling him into position with his legs up against his chest. Breakdown wasn't even big enough for Motormaster to get between his legs, which made Motormaster wonder for a moment just what he thought he was doing.
And then the very tip of Motormaster's spike pressed against Breakdown's valve, and he stopped wondering. "Don't move," he ordered, and started pushing, just a little.
It was almost painfully tight for Motormaster, and it must have hurt Breakdown much more, to have his valve stretched almost as far as there was space between his legs. Motormaster moved slowly, pushing it in inch by inch, feeling for any sign of breakage, until abruptly--somewhat less than halfway inside--his progress was impeded, and Breakdown whimpered in pain.
"You can keep going," Breakdown said, but tentatively.
"No, I can't," Motormaster said. He knew his team inside and out (certain small surprises notwithstanding), and if he went any further, Breakdown's valve would be ruptured. He pulled out a bit and started thrusting, very slowly. It was the hottest thing he'd ever done, he realized, even though he'd never tell Breakdown that. He'd had valves before and he had his teammates on a regular basis, but to be inside one of them, without breaking him? And to have Breakdown want him this much--he dropped that line of thought, easily enough with the incredible tightness around the tip of his spike. Even though he'd already overloaded, he wasn't going to last very long.
And then Breakdown doubled himself up under him and wrapped both of his hands around the part of Motormaster's spike that wouldn't fit inside, and it was just too much. Motormaster overloaded again.
It was amazing. Even holding tight to Breakdown, making sure he didn't involuntarily thrust too far, the pressure and the heat and the sheer thrill of being inside him made it one of the best overloads Motormaster had ever had. As he came down from it, he noticed Breakdown overloading around him, moaning, valve completely unable to contract and sparking energy hard.
Motormaster didn't understand Breakdown at all.
He only allowed himself to savor the tightness for a few seconds after Breakdown's overload. He carefully pulled out and pressed a finger into the still-open valve, testing it for damage. There were a few slight tears, but nothing that would keep Breakdown out of battle or require a trip to the Constructicons. "Good. Dismissed." He let go of Breakdown's legs and turned away, already calculating how long he should give the valve to recover before taking it again.
Fandom: Transformers G1
Pairing: Motormaster/Breakdown
Rating: NC-17 for sticky porn, size kink, and possibly uncomfortable power dynamics
Word Count: c. 1200
Summary: Sequel to Toys. Breakdown convinces Motormaster to penetrate him. Pure PWP.
Notes: Originally written back in April, I only just dug it out of my files and gave it a bit more editing.
He led a team full of morons.
Motormaster had thought that, despite his cowardice and scrambled verbal processor, Breakdown had a chip or two of sense in him. More than Drag Strip or Wildrider, anyway.
But this was just ridiculous. And it was interfering with Motormaster getting off.
"Basic geometry, Breakdown! This," he tapped his spike, "Is not going to fit into THERE. You know what happened to Wildrider." He struck the rim of Breakdown's valve with a finger bigger than Breakdown's own useless little spike--which was on full display, presumably to convince Motormaster that Breakdown really wanted this.
As if Motormaster gave a slag. He didn't take his Stunticons to berth for their pleasure, and certainly not to indulge fetishes that would leave them all vulnerable--and Motormaster humiliated.
Even if he'd started taking Breakdown to berth more often when he noticed that Breakdown actually seemed to enjoy and welcome his attentions.
That was neither here nor there, though. He grabbed the white thighs and slid his spike between them, enjoying the friction against the tiny valve, already charged and leaking against him.
Slag, that felt good. Motormaster thrust harder, ignoring Breakdown's efforts at reciprocation to pull his thighs closer, tighter, angling him so that he could make longer strokes, rubbing the full length of his spike against that tiny wet port. Breakdown's engine rumbled, almost dangerously--but he'd never hurt Motormaster while he was doing this, never even tried.
Clamping his legs around Breakdown's to keep him in the right position--not that Breakdown was trying to move away--Motormaster moved his hands up for better leverage, squeezing Breakdown's shoulder-tires hard as he pounded him into the berth. Almost enough now--!
"Motormaster," Breakdown moaned, almost too softly to be heard over the clang of Motormaster taking him. "Yes--!" And then Breakdown's thighs clamped even tighter around him, his port got even hotter and slicker, his engine vibrations more powerful, as he overloaded.
Oh, slag, yes. This was why he took Breakdown to berth more often than the others. It only took Motormaster a few more hard strokes, his hands shifting to Breakdown's arms so they wouldn't rupture the tires, to reach his own overload. He took a few moments to savor it, enjoying the aftershocks and the hot willing Stunticon under him, then rolled off and turned away. He was done, Breakdown was dismissed.
"Motormaster?" Breakdown asked--probably emboldened by having Motormaster's back turned to him. "Please, just try. I'm all wet and relaxed now, I'm sure it'll fit...please, Motormaster."
Motormaster grunted. He knew he should just throw Breakdown out of the berth, but Breakdown begging for him, talking about his valve like that when he still had Breakdown's lubricant all over the top of his spike, had him turned on again, had him thinking about actually being in there. "You're not even going to be able to take my finger." Motormaster said, but he was already reaching back and tossing Breakdown to the berth in front of him.
"Thank you!" Breakdown said, spreading his legs wide.
"Don't thank me yet." Motormaster reached over and shoved the finger in.
He'd thought trying to shove it all in at once would discourage Breakdown from pestering him further--without breaking anything important--but instead it went in easily, and Breakdown just moaned and arched up against him.
That was interesting. And also hot. "Don't move." He put his other hand down on top of Breakdown's pelvic plating, pinning him in place as he started fragging him with his finger. Slag. Motormaster stared at the opening as it easily stretched around his finger, a finger that could only barely touch the bottom of the valve. Breakdown kept making undignified sounds of pleasure. Motormaster shoved a second finger in next to the first.
"Motormaster!" Breakdown moaned, and it was a very, very good thing that Motormaster had just overloaded, or he would be extremely tempted to just forget everything and shove his spike in right then and there. As it was, Motormaster just fingered faster, pressing against the valve walls to try to figure out how far he could stretch them.
Far enough, he decided, and he pulled the fingers out and grabbed Breakdown's legs, pulling him into position with his legs up against his chest. Breakdown wasn't even big enough for Motormaster to get between his legs, which made Motormaster wonder for a moment just what he thought he was doing.
And then the very tip of Motormaster's spike pressed against Breakdown's valve, and he stopped wondering. "Don't move," he ordered, and started pushing, just a little.
It was almost painfully tight for Motormaster, and it must have hurt Breakdown much more, to have his valve stretched almost as far as there was space between his legs. Motormaster moved slowly, pushing it in inch by inch, feeling for any sign of breakage, until abruptly--somewhat less than halfway inside--his progress was impeded, and Breakdown whimpered in pain.
"You can keep going," Breakdown said, but tentatively.
"No, I can't," Motormaster said. He knew his team inside and out (certain small surprises notwithstanding), and if he went any further, Breakdown's valve would be ruptured. He pulled out a bit and started thrusting, very slowly. It was the hottest thing he'd ever done, he realized, even though he'd never tell Breakdown that. He'd had valves before and he had his teammates on a regular basis, but to be inside one of them, without breaking him? And to have Breakdown want him this much--he dropped that line of thought, easily enough with the incredible tightness around the tip of his spike. Even though he'd already overloaded, he wasn't going to last very long.
And then Breakdown doubled himself up under him and wrapped both of his hands around the part of Motormaster's spike that wouldn't fit inside, and it was just too much. Motormaster overloaded again.
It was amazing. Even holding tight to Breakdown, making sure he didn't involuntarily thrust too far, the pressure and the heat and the sheer thrill of being inside him made it one of the best overloads Motormaster had ever had. As he came down from it, he noticed Breakdown overloading around him, moaning, valve completely unable to contract and sparking energy hard.
Motormaster didn't understand Breakdown at all.
He only allowed himself to savor the tightness for a few seconds after Breakdown's overload. He carefully pulled out and pressed a finger into the still-open valve, testing it for damage. There were a few slight tears, but nothing that would keep Breakdown out of battle or require a trip to the Constructicons. "Good. Dismissed." He let go of Breakdown's legs and turned away, already calculating how long he should give the valve to recover before taking it again.
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repeatedlyinvokes the response of wanting to roll around like, GUH, YES, KFJHGDJSH. *keyboardmash of perverse delight*I love every filthy detail of this. Breakdown's POV in Toys was so hot but Motormaster's shameless ownership of him, ranging from indifferent (Breakdown is there for Motormaster's pleasure) to rather sweet, in a Motormaster kind of way, to not pushing Breakdown past his limits and knowing when to stop... GUH. (Although yes, even if his motivation is not wanting to be humiliated again, it's still AWESOME.)
Hahaha I keep getting distracted reading it again. Mmmmm, Motormaster gripping his shoulder tires, pressing down on his pelvis, and guh, telling him not to move. So hot I can't even. fjghskjhgjs.
"You can keep going," Breakdown said, but tentatively.
"No, I can't," Motormaster said.
That is probably one of my favorite parts. It's hard to pick, there is so much hotness D: I love the control Motormaster has over himself, despite the urges to do so much more and inflict so much damage. This is just achingly hot, all of it.
*has no appropriate icons!* :((((
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I don't really have appropriate icons, either. *settles for SG!Motormaster/G1!Breakdown*
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I enjoyed this far more than I should have. :D The characterization is great!
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And mwahahahaha, I love making people enjoy things more than they should. Especially consensual Motormaster/Breakdown. :D
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