Deepstrider losing his mind over both the flexibility of his portable husband and the fact that he can see where his spike is when he thrusts in. Slightly pressing down on the outline and see both lose their everloving minds.
Oh to be held in a mating press until you’re so full and can’t walk. Makes any bad day like 100% better
-portable husband
Primus. Primus. So tiny. You're so tiny. He's thought that before, certainly, but it's just.. different. Servos trembling, smoothing over your skin, he just presses. Gently. The way that your flesh adjusts so easily to touch is fascinating by itself.
He hasn't mass displaced this small for very long. It wasn't something he'd really needed to do on Cybertron. Humans, though.. to negotiate their architecture, he'd adjusted. Not by much, admittedly, but he cut off practically a sixth of his usual alt scanning a new vehicle mode. It'd been a process, trying to not jam delicate sensors in inconvenient places or completely switch the specs he was used to.
Stripping off some armor made mass displacement a little easier on the fuel pump, but it made him feel hideously vulnerable. Deepstrider had been practicing dealing with the disorientation and some of the changes, but he'd been too stressed to press anything between the two of you yet. Destabilizing doing something delicate like fragging your valve could have some horrific consequences.
So, instead, he'd been practicing keeping it up through similar situations. First by himself, grinding on a few things, humping more items than he'd admit out of curiosity now that he could fit around them. He wasn't new to self-interface, his charge rising without warning over enough of his functioning that he couldn't really remember if he had a time without it.
Admittedly, he used to burn it off doing incredibly dubious climbing adventures. Nobody wanted to be the person telling a newframe about all the secondary systems, so he'd just.. weaponized adrenaline.
Interface was so much damm easier than risking helm injuries, fragging up his sensor placement, and tripping over his own pedes into a culvert because he didn't know which way was up.
He'd gotten his seals taken.. hm. Sentinel hadn't yet.. there was the solar flare fiasco.. enough vorns ago to get weird looks. Maybe at like.. twelve vorns? Fifteen? Deepstrider didn't remember the exact details of it, but he'd gotten his spike sucked for the first time by some geologist looking for a local guide.
Deepstrider knew the caverns alright by virtue of looking for paths that'd hold his weight. Just caught them at the right time. He doesn't think they took his seals.. things considered, he might've broken them himself.
He was pretty shameless about the self-interface, mostly, as it was more of an annoying task to get done, but doing it in preparation for something else was.. heady. As soon as he'd been able to overload without his brain screaming static at him and could stay that way a decent length of time, he let you touch him.
Naturally, he should've expected it would be more intense with a partner. The embarrassment and internal fear of having armor stripped off might've abated some, but now you could touch him. Differently. Your hands fit around more. He could assume where your eyes were scanning more accurately. He could be under you without lying on concrete.
Spiking you was an escalation caused by your insistence to at least attempt it. Fingering you had somehow worked out when he was bigger, so it probably wasn't an impossibility. Painful or too much trouble, maybe.
Your valve stretched out slowly. Deepstrider had been avoiding using any of his secretions for (offically) lubing you up due to the composition difference. He'd switched over to an experimental batch, which maybe wasn't a great idea for predictable frame health, but the crew had manufactured up using less of the supplies from Cybertron that could be better used elsewhere.
But you did it. Vaguely smug, with your legs shaking, but you did. Deepstrider didn't dare do anything but let you rock yourself and give you stares when he felt you clench strangely.
Which was pretty impressive of him composure wise, because he's never fragged an organic this small. And barely any in general. With how tiny you were, he was expecting the stretch to maybe even be painful on his end if you managed it, but.. everything down there was apparently more pliable than it looked.
He nearly overloads the first time he hilts in you. Tried so, so hard to stay still be good be good but you just kept squirming and- fuck. You'd cum if he rubbed your spike-node-whatever, right? So he tried to keep himself together long enough to touch you in a way he was more familiar with while his spike felt like it was being gradually heated up and clung to on every available plate.
Getting your guts stuffed by a cute robot boy was a completely valid reason to collapse into a mess once he'd put your hands on your junk. Fuck, fuck, god it ached, but how many humans had done this, huh? Whining, trying to shift on him yourself, it took an embarrassingly small amount of time to cum.
But Deepstrider hurriedly pulled out of you so fast it was like everything collapsed, and despite his best efforts splattered your hole pink. In a daze, you'd just.. stared. Would you let a giant alien robot cum inside of you? Some people would.. object, to say the least.
But you'd been sticking your tongue in his mouth and sliding your fingers wherever you could, and if Deepstrider was a hypocrite willing to put your cum in his mouth, then you didn't feel as bad dabbing a bit on your thumb and having the poison control hotline shuffled away in a tab.
In you was different than in your digestive system- there hadn't been any spontaneous disease outbreaks since the Cybertronian population had showed up, so. Maybe you could pretend your immune system had a chance if something happened.
Shaking, coming down, you wanted him to cum in you. Fuck it. And he was just a mewling mess once you'd taken advantage of his size.
What kind of robot cums? This robot. And by GOD, you were going to make him. Deepstrider should've been too stiff to be comfortable, really, but he had softer parts that he'd shown you. Once you'd gotten to the fucking his brains out stage, you played with them an outrageous amount, less soft spike included.
Biting your lip and rolling your hips, it did have some flex and squish, but not much, and you were barely strong enough to do anything to it. That was hot.
Getting topped was even fucking hotter, spike that barely fit inside shifting as he held your limbs oh so carefully and bent you in half like a pretzel. Everything was- it was so- you were so full, but you kept watching him draw back and pump in just firmly enough to bump into your far wall before repeating himself. His dick was slick enough to keep bullying itself inside just a bit more until you'd made a note of which segments had been in you. The fancy pattern on the underside made for a decent ruler.
Adjusting his grip just a bit, steadying you, he took a longer thrust and everything he displaced shifted and got bullied again and it felt fucking incredible, the warmth of his array heating you up and making you pant just that much more.
It was too big to not grind over all the places that made your toes curl, and it just kept getting worse at he made patient little plaps like you didn't just wanna cuumm already. Looking made it worse. So much worse. Because Deepstrider was looking anywhere but your debauched face and sweaty body, and it just made the bump feel impersonal. Casual.
Taking your hand to it made you aware of it shifting and pushing in and out of you, and you tightened up and quivered.
Deepstrider- catching his attention took just one noise a bit too distressed- had his face flushed and lipplates wet when he'd vented out and looked back at you.
Fuck, could you grab him? You tried a bit in a daze, and the answer was 'not really' but effective enough for your partner to figuratively blow a fuse when he noticed.
Because he'd just hilted when he noticed- aggressively enough to send your muscles rippling and tightening around it as hard as your weak little human body could, hiccuping while your body tried to smear him in your fluids.
He ignored that. Took another thrust. You choked. And he just- kept shifting and watching your hole stretch, your belly stretch. Wiggling just made you jerk around him and fuck- there really shouldn't have been more room to sink into, your words slurring.
Trying to move your hips at all was impossible, or just made it look like your now sopping hole was being squished, and your poor untouched equipment was rock hard and aching right after it'd been pushed to the brink.
Ironically, it was you pushing him away and slapping at his plating that made him cum somehow. Which just opened a burning pit in between your legs that tried its damndest to find a way out.
FUCK. YES.
You were going to ruin this godamn 'bot.
