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31_days2006-01-31 11:03 pm
beckyh2112.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2006-01-31 11:03 pm
[Jan. 31][Transformers] Love Taps
Title: Love Taps
Day/Theme: Jan. 31 'If I could live with you'
Series: G1 Transformers
Characters, Pairings: Oikodomopolis/Motormaster
Rating: PG-13
Notes: My general Oikodomopolis post. Not sure if I ever explain her outside of TFBlogs and random AIM nattering, but she's my 'structikid.
---
Oikodomopolis reactivated her optics when Motormaster stomped into her makeshift quarters. The impact-sound of his feet hitting the floor warned her; she was utterly relaxed when he grabbed her and slammed her against the wall. "Bonecrusher says you're leaving."
"Yep."
He slammed her against the wall again, jarring her backpack-structure and its contents. "Running away, wench?"
She braced her legs against the floor and just looked at him. Did he feel the grooves in her armor where his fingers rested? Did he see the warping of her face? Had he noticed the scarred paint on her back, the dulled corners of her backpack? The Constructicons, even she herself, found it to be more trouble than it was worth to repair all the little minor damages Motormaster gave her. He'd just put them back next time they fucked.
"Well?" He growled.
"I got work on Cybertron lined up." She touched his shoulders, dragged her hands down his arms hard enough to abrade paint.
"Don't try to distract me." He didn't slam her against the wall again, though. "Who's waiting on Cybertron that you want so bad?"
"Motormaster... You know there's no one I want more than you." There wasn't a mech on Cybertron who could handle her like he could, who could ignore her firepower when she wasn't in the mood and he was, who could force her onto her back. She'd never fought him off but once, and that had excited him so much that he practically moved into her quarters.
"Then why are you leaving?"
'Poli pressed herself against him, attempting to smile warmly. It came out slightly crooked since her self-repair systems had mended a few of her left facial tensors too tight. "It's just a transfer. Everyone gets them. Put me down."
"You asked for a transfer." He hefted her a little higher, wedged his knee in between her legs.
The cables coiled around her forearms flexed and detached from their hook-points at her wrists. The movement caught his optic and he slammed her against the wall again.
"You really want to try that, 'Poli?" He leaned forward, shifting her so he could rest his chin on her shoulder. Almost conversationally, he said, "We'd break your quarters, and I still wouldn't know who to kill so you'll come back to me."
She sighed and slumped away from him. "There's no one to kill, Motormaster. It's just me. I'm going back to Cybertron."
"Why?"
"Because I want to!" Fury flashed across her mind and she snarled, the energy tap dropping down from the roof of her mouth. She didn't waste any fuel on struggling, just lashed forward. The tap couldn't break through to his internals, but his face armor was just sensitive enough for him to feel its bite. "Isn't that enough?"
Engine rumbling, Motormaster pressed her back against the wall and kissed her jaw. "We'll talk about this later. You're not leaving. Not when you do things like that."
Day/Theme: Jan. 31 'If I could live with you'
Series: G1 Transformers
Characters, Pairings: Oikodomopolis/Motormaster
Rating: PG-13
Notes: My general Oikodomopolis post. Not sure if I ever explain her outside of TFBlogs and random AIM nattering, but she's my 'structikid.
---
Oikodomopolis reactivated her optics when Motormaster stomped into her makeshift quarters. The impact-sound of his feet hitting the floor warned her; she was utterly relaxed when he grabbed her and slammed her against the wall. "Bonecrusher says you're leaving."
"Yep."
He slammed her against the wall again, jarring her backpack-structure and its contents. "Running away, wench?"
She braced her legs against the floor and just looked at him. Did he feel the grooves in her armor where his fingers rested? Did he see the warping of her face? Had he noticed the scarred paint on her back, the dulled corners of her backpack? The Constructicons, even she herself, found it to be more trouble than it was worth to repair all the little minor damages Motormaster gave her. He'd just put them back next time they fucked.
"Well?" He growled.
"I got work on Cybertron lined up." She touched his shoulders, dragged her hands down his arms hard enough to abrade paint.
"Don't try to distract me." He didn't slam her against the wall again, though. "Who's waiting on Cybertron that you want so bad?"
"Motormaster... You know there's no one I want more than you." There wasn't a mech on Cybertron who could handle her like he could, who could ignore her firepower when she wasn't in the mood and he was, who could force her onto her back. She'd never fought him off but once, and that had excited him so much that he practically moved into her quarters.
"Then why are you leaving?"
'Poli pressed herself against him, attempting to smile warmly. It came out slightly crooked since her self-repair systems had mended a few of her left facial tensors too tight. "It's just a transfer. Everyone gets them. Put me down."
"You asked for a transfer." He hefted her a little higher, wedged his knee in between her legs.
The cables coiled around her forearms flexed and detached from their hook-points at her wrists. The movement caught his optic and he slammed her against the wall again.
"You really want to try that, 'Poli?" He leaned forward, shifting her so he could rest his chin on her shoulder. Almost conversationally, he said, "We'd break your quarters, and I still wouldn't know who to kill so you'll come back to me."
She sighed and slumped away from him. "There's no one to kill, Motormaster. It's just me. I'm going back to Cybertron."
"Why?"
"Because I want to!" Fury flashed across her mind and she snarled, the energy tap dropping down from the roof of her mouth. She didn't waste any fuel on struggling, just lashed forward. The tap couldn't break through to his internals, but his face armor was just sensitive enough for him to feel its bite. "Isn't that enough?"
Engine rumbling, Motormaster pressed her back against the wall and kissed her jaw. "We'll talk about this later. You're not leaving. Not when you do things like that."