deadlock (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
driftlock) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
crux_fleet2014-04-06 12:07 am
driftlock) wrote in crux_fleet2014-04-06 12:07 am
Entry tags:
(no subject)
Who: Deadlock and Flashpoint
Where: Flashpoint's quarters
When: The day after the attack is repelled
What: Someone has been hit by the huggy happy virus.
Warnings: Huglock.
The plan was simple: Deadlock grabbed his trophy from his latest kick-aftery, to show it to Flashpoint and make the annoying Autobot realize how much more awesome he was than she was. Maybe even get her to etch that on the battered armor of the helmet he'd taken off the bad guy for good measure. He was wording exactly how she should phrase it when he bumped into the annoying squishy, but, whatever. Brownian motion took its course and the human boinged off him and back into the crowd, and Deadlock was in far too good a mood to chase after and threaten it. There was a Flashpoint to irk and he never let go of mission objectives.
Except fraggin' Flashpoint wasn't home. Primus dammit, how dare she not be here to receive her taunting?!
Fine. He could wait. He slumped on her couch for a while, tapping his foot, helmet beside him. Waiting.
Waiting.
Waiting was boring. And you know what? That picture was fraggin' crooked and it was driving him nuts. And then, fraggit, the utensils in the drawer weren't all square to each other. And then....
....when Flashpoint finally arrives home, it will be to find him on his hands and knees in her bedroom, de-dustbunnying under the bed. He may, in fact, even be humming.
Where: Flashpoint's quarters
When: The day after the attack is repelled
What: Someone has been hit by the huggy happy virus.
Warnings: Huglock.
The plan was simple: Deadlock grabbed his trophy from his latest kick-aftery, to show it to Flashpoint and make the annoying Autobot realize how much more awesome he was than she was. Maybe even get her to etch that on the battered armor of the helmet he'd taken off the bad guy for good measure. He was wording exactly how she should phrase it when he bumped into the annoying squishy, but, whatever. Brownian motion took its course and the human boinged off him and back into the crowd, and Deadlock was in far too good a mood to chase after and threaten it. There was a Flashpoint to irk and he never let go of mission objectives.
Except fraggin' Flashpoint wasn't home. Primus dammit, how dare she not be here to receive her taunting?!
Fine. He could wait. He slumped on her couch for a while, tapping his foot, helmet beside him. Waiting.
Waiting.
Waiting was boring. And you know what? That picture was fraggin' crooked and it was driving him nuts. And then, fraggit, the utensils in the drawer weren't all square to each other. And then....
....when Flashpoint finally arrives home, it will be to find him on his hands and knees in her bedroom, de-dustbunnying under the bed. He may, in fact, even be humming.
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Yes, she gets helicopter butt when sprinkled with fairy dust. She doesn't like to talk about it though and she's invisible unless you're drunk."Sixshot kinda did. And Devastator. If by 'asking' you mean 'smashing'." Yeah that's not morally questionable at all. Not that she wants to press the subject. She'd rather press against him instead, maybe one hand searching for his but not in any hand-holding kind of way. Just, ya know, BECAUSE.
Oh wait...that's what his hand is up to. That spot's not ticklish but it's damn close. She clamps her lip plates around a little mewl lest she give herself away, trying not to squirm in the process.
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Don't tease him with such ineffable cuteness"Yeah, well, Sixshot really isn't a talky guy." This from Deadlock, the master of monosyllables. He had the usual Decepticon half-fear half-contempt respect for Phase Sixers--they did the dirty work, but it was such unfair odds it could hardly be called war.
He'd rather not think about more mechs bigger than he is, not when he's got an almost squirming body against his. If he knew what to do, if he had any sort of suaveness, he'd be doing it, now. Instead, he's just going to, uh, improvise, bending down to chuff some air out of his vents at her exposed throat cables.
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If Deadlock was suave they'd be getting into a whole lot more trouble than they are right now. Or rather, a whole lot more FUN that might make for trouble later, or least 10 times more awkward than this already is.
As it is though, the huff of warm air past her neck gets a little gasp and a real squirm this time, and a muffled noise slipping past her hand. Well, two can play at that game. Not that she plays it overly well herself--or can reach much of him for that matter--but she'll improvise by tracing her fingers over the seams of his outer thigh armor and down to the joint of his knee. What? She has to put her hands somewhere!
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But she should realize, honestly, he's in the far better tactical position here, so she can try to tickle his knees, yeah, and maybe he'll laugh, but any squirming he does is gonna be right against the back of her armor, his fingertips skimming over the front of her chassis.
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Flashpoint really shouldn't be having inappropriate thoughts right now. And really, the warm and fuzzy part of her shoves thoughts of interfacing into the back corner of her mind. It's complicated and there's power struggles and awkwardness and really can she just lay here and be petted till she feels loved? And maybe makeouts. That'd be okay too.
Wait... what did she just...?
Eh, whatever. The sound of his laugh is too good, and that distracting squirm is just validation that she's found sensitive spot, and where there's one there must be more, right? Flashpoint'll just look for them, trying not to be distracted by the fingers roaming over her chassis.
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Possibly the only thing more terrifying than Deadlock with a gun, is a giggly Deadlock. At least half the armies at Dabola would swear to that. So it's obviously a real test of her mettle that she's going for more.
Which might end up backfiring because giggly!Deadlock is also squirmy!Deadlock who might end up accidentally dumping them both on the floor.
I'm noticing a trend of them dumping themselves on the floor...
And yeah, she'll put 'being terrified of Deadlock giggles' on her to-do list. Maybe she should up the priority on that though, because here comes good reason to. Suddenly she's on the floor with a squawk, air knocked from her vents, Deadlock tangled in her kibble and marginally on top. Wait, how did this happen!?
graceful cybertronian warriors
"Hnf. You look better like this, anyway." HAHAH Deadlock has the funniest one-liners.
yes that exactly. they should do ballet...gun ballet
"Oh yeah? Better say that to my face." Because it's face down into the floor right now. Well, except when she tosses the taunt over her shoulder at him. Maybe it's just a dare to kiss her again, bet he's too chicken. Well, he'll have to decide which end he wants to deal with, because she's just gonna wiggle her aft under him now. At his mercy, indeed!
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And don't remotely dare Deadlock to do anything, because he totally will. She might be face down on the floor, but that doesn't spell 'mercy' to Deadlock. At least not as, you know, weird as he's feeling right now. He slithers on top of her, pressing his mouth against her audio. "You look tense, Flashpoint." You need a massage?
tickles?no subject
She tries not to whine at the way his plating slides over her back, the warmth of his words washing over her audio. Yeah, she deserved that right? Revenge for all the wiggling? She can't stop the shift in tone of her engine though, which sounds interested. "B-been a long day. You expectin' something else?"
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"Nnnf," she says instead, her engine giving a low purring rumble, because there aren't many things that come in contact with her aft terribly often, protected the way it is by those panels. Certainly not his--YEAH ANYWAY. This is Flashpoint, trying to relax, maybe melt into the floor, and not think about how much of a turn-on this would be under different circumstances.
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wookieDecepticon win. Especially right now. Besides, that engine rumble tells him everything he wants to hear right now, and so he slides his thumbs up along the seams in her back armor, hoping to get a squeak, too, out of her, and never you mind about where his YEAH ANYWAY is. He's here to clean, and that is a very, very dirty thought.no subject
There's a long, low groan that ebbs out of her and into the floor, Deadlock's trip up her back both tantalizing and seems to push the stress out of her at the same time. That is until he comes to her v-shaped back vents, the very ones that appear in her alt's hood for engine cooling. That's when he gets a squeak. Because hey! Those are some important parts you're touchin' mister!
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You got it, Flashpoint, those magic fingers that are magicing that squeak out of her. "Sensitive?" Because he remembers a ticklish Flashpoint. Ahem. He could go down that wriggly road, to hear her laugh.
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Flashpoint stifles a whimper that's probably enough of an answer to his question. "...a-a little." Deadlock can certainly feel the degree of vibration there is from her engine. It's right there, under all the armor past the spinal strut, and sheer fact that she isn't throwing him off says a lot. The way her engine purrs says a lot too, a lot of other things. But those vents? Yeah. Maybe a little ticklish in that too-sensitive way. Don't you dare!, says the flick of her spoiler.
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He looks terrible in frilly apronsDon't tell Deadlock what he dares and doesn't dare to do, young missy. "Hey. Point is you're supposed to be relaxing." Never mind the whole 'pinned on the floor by vicious Decepticon' thing.
/lays here
Frilly aprons on Deadlock, another thing Flashpoint would pay to see. And maybe get envious because why is wearing frilly aprons for other people?She, uh, minds being pinned to the floor by a vicious Decepticon a whole lot less than is proper for an Autobot. Or that is normal for her really. Typically she'd prefer to be doing the pinning, see? But the warmth of him against her back and aft is too nice, positive attention she rarely sees, even with the playful taunting. He can't see it--thankfully!--but she smiles into the floor, touched by the idea in ways she's not going to admit, then ex-vents deeply in an effort to release tension.
"I'm relaxed." See? Positive reinforcement works wonders.
/lays next to
Fine, then she can wear the frilly apron"You could be more relaxed," he says. Because it's totally some kind of weird contest now. Bath, drink, massage. He figures he's hitting the checklist of all the luxuries he'd never had. That's good, right?
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Only for him and as long as there's no evidence."Y-you're doin' a plenty fine job of that..." It's true, the way his hands work over her back, forcing plating and joints and transformation seams to release tightness she didn't realize she was holding. Flashpoint's engine idles into a soft purr; if Deadlock's
notcareful, she'll fall asleep before she can cuddle him into a hostage situation."I owe you one, after all this...." Meaning she might want to return the favor someday. If he lets her.
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Oh there will be evidence he will keep just in case anything...unflattering happens to his noodlebot.That's it, Flashpoint, just get all loose and sleepy. Deadlock's not gonna steal your stuff, but not gonna lie, he'd get a secret thrill of this new addition to his arsenal for incapacitating Autobots.
It's not one he plans on trying out on any of those snotty senators, mind you. But hey, options are good. "You owe me a lot. But, you know that's for later." Now is for you to get all moooshy while the movie flickers a soft blue glow over your armor.
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And he better not be nice-touching those senators either! Or they'll have words. "I can do that. Later..." she mumbles out, making desperate but feeble attempts to stay awake.
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Trust him, though, the last thing he's gonna tell anyone is about this. Because if being nice is her kryptonite, it's fraggin' WEIRD for him. He'd rather cut off his own hands before touching one of those snotty Senators, except to, you know, like poke their optics out or something.
"Later." Like after he's done spreading this warm oil on your spoiler? Yeah, that's right. He's ruthless even in his nice.
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And she's okay with some senator eye-poking. Especially if she gets to watch.
Flashpoint lets out a long ex-vent coupled with a pleased groan, the kind that rumbles the plating loose in all the places you hold it too tight. There are some extremely vague questions about where he got the warm oil, but she so doesn't care right now. This is a luxury she's not had in...uh..she can't even remember when. Her fingertips knead the strands of the polyfiber rug under her; a thing they made her put in after her neighbors complained about the stompy metal feet, a thing she just might be drooling on right now.
"...t-totally later." What are they talking about again?
wrap soon?
Works for me!
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