#coolant valve

[sw5w]

Sabé and Her Soldiers Join the Fight

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 01:47:42

[spookysaladchaos]

Global top 24 companies accounted for 45% of total Engine Cooling System, Refrigeration System, Coolants & Coolant Flow Control Valves market(qyresearch, 2021)

The engine-cooling system serves not just to keep the engine cool, but to also keep its temperature warm enough to ensure efficient, clean operation. System components include a radiator to dissipate heat, a fan or fans to ensure adequate airflow for radiator cooling, a thermostat valve that opens when the desired operating temperature is reached and a water pump (or coolant pump) to circulate coolant through the engine, hoses and other components.

According to the new market research report “Global Engine Cooling System, Refrigeration System, Coolants & Coolant Flow Control Valves Market Report 2023-2029”, published by QYResearch, the global Engine Cooling System, Refrigeration System, Coolants & Coolant Flow Control Valves market size is projected to reach USD 33.72 billion by 2029, at a CAGR of 7.9% during the forecast period.

Figure.   Global Engine Cooling System, Refrigeration System, Coolants & Coolant Flow Control Valves Market Size (US$ Mn), 2018-2029

Figure.   Global Engine Cooling System, Refrigeration System, Coolants & Coolant Flow Control Valves Top 24 Players Ranking and Market Share（Based on data of 2021, Continually updated）

The global key manufacturers of Engine Cooling System, Refrigeration System, Coolants & Coolant Flow Control Valves include Kaideli, FRIGEL, Baltimore Aircoil, Star Refrigeration, Square Technology, Zhejiang Gaoxiang, LU-VE, Evapco, Johnson Controls, Hussmann Corporation, etc. In 2021, the global top five players had a share approximately 45.0% in terms of revenue.

About QYResearch

QYResearch founded in California, USA in 2007.It is a leading global market research and consulting company. With over 16 years’ experience and professional research team in various cities over the world QY Research focuses on management consulting, database and seminar services, IPO consulting, industry chain research and customized research to help our clients in providing non-linear revenue model and make them successful. We are globally recognized for our expansive portfolio of services, good corporate citizenship, and our strong commitment to sustainability. Up to now, we have cooperated with more than 60,000 clients across five continents. Let’s work closely with you and build a bold and better future.

QYResearch is a world-renowned large-scale consulting company. The industry covers various high-tech industry chain market segments, spanning the semiconductor industry chain (semiconductor equipment and parts, semiconductor materials, ICs, Foundry, packaging and testing, discrete devices, sensors, optoelectronic devices), photovoltaic industry chain (equipment, cells, modules, auxiliary material brackets, inverters, power station terminals), new energy automobile industry chain (batteries and materials, auto parts, batteries, motors, electronic control, automotive semiconductors, etc.), communication industry chain (communication system equipment, terminal equipment, electronic components, RF front-end, optical modules, 4G/5G/6G, broadband, IoT, digital economy, AI), advanced materials industry Chain (metal materials, polymer materials, ceramic materials, nano materials, etc.), machinery manufacturing industry chain (CNC machine tools, construction machinery, electrical machinery, 3C automation, industrial robots, lasers, industrial control, drones), food, beverages and pharmaceuticals, medical equipment, agriculture, etc.

For more information, please contact the following e-mail address:

Email: global@qyresearch.com

Website: https://www.qyresearch.com

[noohyah]

5.4L Triton V8 Engine: Specs, Performance, and Everything You Need to Know!

If you are looking for a powerful, reliable, and versatile engine for your Ford vehicle, you might want to consider the 5.4L Triton V8 engine.  This engine is part of Ford’s Modular V8 engine family, which has been in production since 1997.  Thanks to its innovative design and features, the 5.4L Triton V8 engine offers impressive performance, durability, and fuel efficiency.  In this article, you…

[padminivnamechatronicsltd]

Rotary Coolant Controller Valves for Automobiles

Modern engines (Electric vehicle Thermal management system) use water-based (Coolant) cooling to regulate engine temperatures. This process is regulated by rotary valves that Control water temperature of essential components of an engine. The actual cooling is done by the radiator, but the coolant regulates the process. If you choose the correct rotary coolant control valve, you can greatly optimize your vehicle’s performance. Here are some of the most important benefits of using rotary control valves in automobiles: 

3 Crucial Benefits of Rotary Coolant Control Valve 

Automatic Functioning

A well-designed and market-standard rotary coolant control valve will work automatically. On feedback of internal temperature from MCU, CCV kicks into action when it detects your engine overheating. This helps regulate the control in your engine effectively without requiring manual intervention. Moreover, reputed rotary coolant control valve manufacturers will implement emergent technologies and enable you to get the most out of your car engine. This includes replacement alert sensors, code error messages etc. to help you keep your car engine and other parts in ideal shape. 

Greater Engine Integrity

Rotary valves have fewer moving parts, and this means they are more stable.  Because of this, your engine suffers from less breakage and its lifespan increases. This translates into more reliable operations and reduces the need for replacement of all linked parts. The best rotary valve manufacturers also fabricate their products to fit government policy standards. This is better than parts that are made for general rotary valve control purposes since they fit the engines better and perform more effectively. 

Minimized Waste

Wasting car coolant refuse is a big problem that can curb your vehicle’s overall efficiency by a lot. Moreover, you could lose a lot of money just replacing coolants regularly when the bigger problem is your rotary coolant control valve. However, if you choose reliable rotary coolant control valve manufacturers you will get better waste management, lesser/minimal leaks and more overall efficiency for your vehicles. Alternating Multi-position coolant valves also allows cars to redistribute heated water throughout the car itself to insulate seats in frigid weather. If your valve is outdated or malfunctioning, then you may lose out on this heating efficiency while also suffering from leaks. So, choosing the right valve can solve all of these problems.   

Where Should You Find the Best Rotary Coolant Control Valve Manufacturers?

Padmini VNA Mechatronics Ltd. is one of the biggest names in the Indian rotary coolant control valve market. We offer a wide range of options to clients based on their vehicle type and needs. We have been working in this market for 18 years and continually bring new technologies from the global arena. Check out our extensive product catalogue on our official website!

[ghostplasmas]

Walking iterator design! Inspired by @capricoopla 's mobile iterators! I went for more of a mix between a few different things- namely nosk from Hollow Knight! It was supposed to look like a massive spider but it kinda looks like a fucked up giraffe weevil.

(more in depth design nerd stuff under the cut)

The body being built more akin to a spider allows for the neurons the iterators need to be stored somewhere safe and protected- the abdomen! Aka their massive spider booty. It can hold a TON of neurons- albeit very very cramped with minimal space for the neurons to move. This DOES affect the iterators- making them experience mood swings, constant spaghetti string thoughts™, and memory jumbling, but it allows for them to stay properly sapient and allows them to keep their memories and processing power.

The thorax (the part the head is connected to) is the main powering system. Inside isa leftover refraction cell- being inputted into a much smaller scale heart. The section it's hooked up to regulates the "voltage" being put out- that way the entire thing doesn't explode from an overload. The refraction cell is how the entire body is able to move in the first place!

The body is very heavy and sturdy, being able to withstand the rain if needed.its also covered in vents from its ventilation, as well as some addition steam valves to let trapped vapor from its coolant systems out.

[staticnonapus]

About your Dreadwing and Optimus post

A follow up to that can be threesome with Megatron that shows Dreadwing just how rough ha can be when using Optimus

Dreadwing gets to see just how much of a spike slut OP is and gets to frag him again while watching the Prime get spit roasted on his and Megatron's spike

Or maybe one Descepticon gets one hole and they do him like that? Could do both one after the other 👀

Either way Optimus ends up as a fragged out mess covered in transfluid (he loves it)

Hgnnnnn Optimus getting railed by his decepticon bfs…

He was expecting a sensual bonding session when he proposed this offer, secretly hoping dreadwing would change his mind and join the autobots.

When megaton showed up things went wrong quickly. He was pinned down and his panel ripped off. Megaton dug those claws into his valve fragging him open. The loud obscene noise of dripping lubricant made his face heat up. The surprise quickly turned into lust, especially with Dreadwing watching him as he got violated. None of this should happen, but somehow he’s excited and turned on.

Megaton being the menace he was held op’s legs spread and high up as he fragged into him. Forcing Optimus to stay fully exposed while getting pounded into oblivion. Dreadwing’s hard spike pressed against his closed panel, he wanted to pop it open and have prime’s pretty intake wrapped around his spike, but megaton ordered him to stand down. A few rounds later the stoic well-mannered prime was already a sobbing mess, optics dazed lips swollen and covered in coolant lubricant and transfluid. He looks more like a disposable shareware than a leader now.

Optimus didn’t bother to resist when dreadwing joined them. Opening his intake and took the whole spike in with ease. He could hear Megs in the back laughing about how he was ‘build for being a spike slut’, but not a single coherent thought could be formed before dreadwing pounded into his vocalizer. They sure took their time filling all his tanks. Dreadwing got overwhelmed when he squeezed into op’s valve together with Meg’s huge spike. It was too tight and hot and Optimus was clinging onto him for dear life, crying and screaming in pain and pleasure. Right after he overloaded he couldn’t hold his tank, staring with a few drop that leaked then hot waste fluid poured into Optimus’s forge. Half of it gushed out mixing with Optimus’s own waste, and megs topped up the forge with transfluid again.

By dawn all three of them were spent and exhausted. The entire chamber stinks of waste oil and ozone. Megs pulled out and left for the washrack, leaving Optimus on top of dreadwing offlined. Dreadwing couldn’t move under the weight, Optimus was drained of energy and his system entered repair mode while his processor rest, a faint sated smile stayed on his faceplate. Maybe the prime did gained his trust after going through all this, Dreadwing thought to himself.

[uselessmicrowave]

kinktober day fourteen

tfp megatron x reader

tws/content- degradation, brat taming, cybertronian reader, gn reader, swearing, orgasm denial, crying, dub con, sadism/masochism, punishment, guilt (?)

“You are the neediest fragging brat I’ve ever had in my berth.” Megatron growls, forcing you against the berth again, his servos digging into your spinal strut as he pushes you. You whine into the pillow, arching and clawing at the sheets. “You’re gonna act right when I’m doing my own damn work?”

You shake your head no, your legs faltering and slipping apart from Megatron’s constant and fast pace. He squeezes the back of your neck cables carelessly, shoving you down onto his spike again and again. You whimper with each thrust, soon panting out quick apologizes.

“‘M sorry- really really sorry Megatron!” you whine, muffled by the pillow. You can feel coolant start to bead up in your optics, grinding backwards into him and gripping at the sheets. “Lord Megatron!”

“I don’t want to hear it,” he growls, scratching your shoulder plating and making sure it would hurt. “you’re going to take this punishment and learn your lesson.”

Megatron growls, moving a servo to your thigh plating and slamming you onto his spike. His groans fuel the heavy swirling feeling in your body, making you tremble and squeeze down onto him. He offers you no praise, no reward for sitting and taking his penalties with only the promise that it wouldn’t happen when you acted right. He grunts, roughly gripping your thigh and shoulder plating, pushing as far into your valve. The sound of your plating crunching and the feeling of his spike pressing against your ceiling node makes you squeal. You let out quick vents, trying to keep yourself quiet while Megatron pumps you full of his transfluid.

“Yes… you’ll behave next time, won’t you.” he gasps, catching his vents quickly and sliding out of you. You keep your helm down, aft up to let him look at you all he wants.

You feel sort of gross.

[mychlapci]

I have this personal HC that Ratchet has an high sex drive, and have toys to satisfy his needs…

Once he’s with Drift he still keeps using them now and then. He and Drift have an healthy sex life, specially at the begin of their relationship.

When Rodimus join the polycule, he takes personal offense that Ratchet still masturbates. Not because he thinks it wrong, but because he feels like he not giving Ratchet enough spike.

Hence, marathon sex where Roddy almost melt his and Ratchet’s array off, fills him up with so much transfluids, really fucks the both of them stupid.

mhmm Ratchet with a high libido... Drift doesn't mind that his conjunx still masturbates, he's gotten used to entering their habsuite and hearing soft moans form the shower. Why would he mind? Ratchet is always ready to take his spike at the end of the day, even if he'd overloaded twice around his favourite toys. Perhaps he even finds it hot that Ratchet is so insatiable.

Rodimus? Oh he's so spark-broken. He keeps bugging Ratchet about it, asking him if they're really not giving him enough spike. Ratchet assures him that's not true, he just gets horny more often than them! And when he gets horny, he likes to jerk off, it has nothing to do with Drift or Rodimus. But Roddy won't have it. He needs to satisify Ratchet, and after a while Ratchet just... agrees to let him.

mhmmm The two of them spend an entire day frantically fucking as a result... Rodimus has Ratchet pinned under him and is fucking into him even as his hips get tired and his engine starts sputtering. He's dripping coolant all over Ratchet, gasping as his spike burns and throbs inside of Ratchet's scalding hot valve, spurting his, what, twelfth, thirteenth? load of transfluid into him. Ratchet is a squirting, moaning mess.

Drift walks in at the end of his shift to find his dear conjunxes grinding into each other, making out sloppily as they continue to fuck for the, how long has it been? Around ten hours since Drift has left? Wow, Ratchet's got some stamina for an older mech <3

Of course, Drift has the one last turn on Ratchet's poor, abused valve before they all clean up and go to sleep. Rodimus is happy that he's proven to Ratchet that he can give him enough spike to keep him satisfied, Drift is glad they're getting along so well, and Ratchet just knows his valve is going to ache next morning....

[veryconnoisseurcherryblossom]

Edging

Summary: You've been teasing Rodimus for 2 hours now, he deserves some release.

Pairing: Rodimus/Reader

Fandom: IDW Transformers

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No warnings

Tags: Edging, Overload Denial, Light BDSM Themes, Rodimus goes into Subspace

"B-babe, please, l-let me- please-"

Rodimus begged. He wasn't quite sobbing, but the fluid in his optics let you know that you needed to wrap up the scene soon. You hummed with false sincerity, carefully moving your hips around and causing Rodimus's vents to shudder, the tip of his spike grinding against the entrance of your valve.

"Alright, you've been a good boy- 10 seconds. Go."

The chronometer was set, and Rodimus immediately slammed his hips against yours, frantically thrusting into you with desperation. Biting your lip to keep you moans at bay, you silently counted down, each thrust hitting you right in the ceiling node with a delicious slap. Until...

"Time's up, Roddy."

The whine, Primus, the whine Rodimus emitted as he quickly stopped halfway thrusting was so satisfying. He looked at you with wide, wet, pleading optics. His voice was heavy with static as he began to beg.

"Please, pl-please, just- just 5 more seconds, I'm so-"

"You know the rules. Pull out, tip only."

This time, Rodimus did sob as he slowly, tortuously pulled out till only the tip remained inside. He shuttered his optics close, coolant tears now freely falling. You could smell the faint wisp of smoke that was beginning to emanate from his engine, a clear sign that Rodimus had been played with enough.

“You’re such a good boy, Roddy. Aren’t you?”

“Y-yes, yes, I-I am, I just-”

“And I think you deserve to be… rewarded for your behaviour.”

The near puppy dog pleading optics Rodimus gave you could shatter the strongest of wills, not helping the big, fat tears sliding down his cheek plates. It had taken you two hours to get to this point, a new record.

“Go on, then. Go.”

If not giving him a time limit hadn’t clued him in, you wrapping your legs around his hips told him something clear- he was allowed to finally, finally overload. His face broke into an excited smile, his bright blue optics shining brilliantly.

He clung onto you, holding you close as he cried for joy. Each thrust was short and quick, he didn’t want to draw this out any longer. He had one, singular goal in his processor- overload. Each thrust was accompanied with a metallic clang and wet slapping noise that echoed around the room. You were most definitely going to have to buff out some lovely paint transfers.

“F-fuck! Oh fuck, you feel so good!”

Rodimus groaned out, almost deliriously. His exhaust pipes on his arms were beginning to splutter more smoke, loud revving noises coming from his engine. Your calipers clenched tightly on his spike, drawing out a loud, throaty shout.

“Fuck!”

With a final cry, Rodimus slammed his hips against yours, flames bursting from his exhaust pipes. A whimper leaving his lips as warmth bloomed into your gestational tank. Rodimus all but collapsed on top of you, exventing deeply. Tears streaked down his faceplate, his optics looked dazed, far off. In subspace.

“You were such a good boy, Roddy- so splendid, you did so well.”

You softly cooed into his audials, bringing your servo to his face to gently wipe his tears away. After a scene or any extreme interface session really, Rodimus’ aftercare involved a lot of gentle affirmation, telling him he did wonderful. He nodded, a small smile tugging at his lip. His voice was filled with static again, but softer.

“Y-yeah?”

“You were so good.”

Leaning in, you gave him a kiss on his opticbrow. He looked at you with a distant look, his processor would be barely running and it’d be hard for him to think, to vocalise his thoughts. You knew from experience. His optic brow furrowed, his smile dipping into a small frown.

“You- you didn’t-”

Smiling, you cupped his cheek with your servo gently to stop him from finishing. He blinked, staring at you with dazed optics.

“It’s fine. I wanted to get you off. This was all about you.”

You spoke with a soft voice, comforting, easing his worries. Kissing his cheek softly, you pulled away, gasping at the feeling of Rodimus’ spike being pulled out of you and blushing as his transfluid slowly seeped out.

“Let me look after you, Roddy. You deserve it.”

[ikkosu]

Hi. Yknow what? Fk it. Im sending the rodimus closet here. It's not finished but i can't sit still. Enjoy. Will re-write and end it properly 👹

Rodimus shoved you in a closet only for him to get shoved in too by some bots who saw what he did. Now, you're stuck with him and he began acting cocky like "Oh, whatever shall we do. Guess we better make ourselves comfortable~" being the flirt he is with you when you finally put him in his place cuz he's been up your aft all week by shoving two digits in his mouth and force him to suck it despite him gagging.

His pretty face dripped with coolant from his optics when he tried so hard not to gag and managed to cuss you a bit for a moment, you pulled out your digits and caressed his legs, and thighs till you reached his panels, demanding him to open and show you his pretty valve which was dripping wet with pink slick when he did❤️❤️

His valve is so pretty that you took your time to admire it before shoving the same digits in, causing him to whine and jolt in his place in pain from the sudden penetration. He can't move to get away from you since you're in a tight closet with little to no space. You moved your digits at high speed, hearing him whimper, and moan, all the unholy sounds that you may or may not have imagined from him. Praising him here and there while also slips in a lil bit of degrading, saying,

"Pathetic for the Lost Light captain to be moaning like a bitch for a mere mechanic. You like that, huh? You like how my digits move in you? How'd they frag you so deliciously?"

He only whined and couldn't form any words with how dumb you had fragged him just with your fingers. You kissed him for a moment to quiet him down, fearing someone might hear the things you two were doing. When he neared his overload, you stopped. He noticed this, obviously, and whined loudly at why you'd stop? You told him to name one thing why you should let him overload and he replied with, "Cuz, I'm your captain..?"

"Wrong."

You pinched and twisted his anterior node causing him to let out a loud cry with some small "stop!" And "no!!" You did stop and told him to answer it again. He weakly said,

"I let you touch me inappropriately, kiss me, play with my valve and you're just teasing me till I'm at the brink of overloading but can't get that release too... I've been good. A good bot. I'm your good bot so please... Please, let me overload. Please, please.."

WORMY OH MY GOD !!!! YOU COOKED SO HARD MY HOUSE BURNT DOWN in a good way ofc OH MY GOD ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️YES PLEASTHE I WANT HIM WHIMPERING BY SOMEOENS DIGITS OMGGG THIS IS SO GOOD

Please finish it pooketh 😭😭😭 I am dying for more

"causing him to whine and jolt from the sudden penetration" — line killed me 🛐🛐🛐🛐

KEEP COOKING WORMY ILL BE DESPERATELY WAITING

[sw5w]

Battle Droids Driven Back

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 01:47:29

[valve3nthusiast]

Rodimus gets pregnant with a conjunxed mech's baby, serious/angsty version. We need more fucked up dratchrod fr

I can't believe the first ever fanfiction I write is Ratchet doing medical malpractice lmao

Fuckin,,, uh,,, warning for mention of miscarriage/imagined threat to an unborn child??? I feel like I should warn for that.

Ratchet liked to believe he tolerated Rodimus with the same grace he gave to the rest of Drift's most ridiculous eccentricities. Just because they were conjunxed, didn't mean they were perfectly in tune and of the same opinion on everything. Every relationship had to have some give and take.

At the very least, Rodimus was cheaper than the crystal collection.

But that did mean he had to hear more about Rodimus than he ever really wanted to. And when Drift started expressing his concerns about "Roddy not feeling "himself"'...

A suspicion had crept over him, like a coolant rupture slowly freezing his energon lines.

Rodimus walked into the medbay, aiming for flippantly casual and falling just short of the mark. Rodimus tended to avoid the medbay when Ratchet was on shift. Even discounting that, he could see what Drift meant about that "disturbed energy" nonsense. Rodimus's field was noticeably (at least, for a medic) pulsing at a lower frequency.

"So what did you call me down for, doc?"

Ratchet got straight to the point. He didn't have the patience for anything else.

"I need to do an examination." He gestured vaguely to the table. "Up you go."

Rodimus took one look at the medberth configuration and snickered. Climbing up and putting his legs into position, he started, "If this is your way of saying you want a threesome-"

"Can it." He snapped, working the latches on the stirrups.

Rodimus, legs spread, reclined on the exam table. Ratchet found he had even less of a tolerance than usual for Rodimus's chatter, though it was more in the vein of nervous rambling.

"I don't have a virus, doc, you would know," he said, with an obnoxious little browplate wiggle. Ratchet deliberately tuned him out, especially the uptick of irrelevant and vaguely sexual comments once he brought out the speculum. Thankfully, Rodimus still retracted his panel without a fight.

Rodimus had a larger than average anterior node, and line of biolights trailing down his valve lips that matched the node's vibrant red color. As Ratchet spread his slit and inserted the speculum, he saw that the internal lights were the same.

It's a very pretty valve. He can see why Drift would like it.

Unfortunately, he can't confirm the absence of what he's looking for with a visual alone. (Not to mention that the pulsing and flaring of internal biolights wasn't helping visibility any.)

Ratchet gently removed the speculum, ignoring the strings of lubricant that stretched and snapped between the tool and Rodimus.

"I'm going to have to do a manual examination. Try not to flex your calipers or pelvic floor."

Rodimus squeaked out something affirmative. Ratchet pressed two fingers into his valve, but was unsurprised to note that he'd need to insert more to find what he was looking for.

...Rodimus was silken smooth to the touch. He straightend four fingers and slowly pushed in further, firmly ignoring how the soft and wet valve lining trembled around his hand, until Rodimus's anterior node met the dip between his thumb and palm.

With most patients, he wouldn't insert something this big in one go, but it was Rodimus. Ratchet would bet he'd taken something bigger in the past day.

His fingertips ghosted across Rodimus's ceiling node, before finally finding the forge iris.

And confirming his suspicion.

"Congratulations. You're sparked." Even with how distant his own voice sounded to his audials, he could tell it was bitingly cold. Unfortunately, it's not viable, he doesn't say, fingertips gently pressed to the seal, soft, perfectly intact. The gestational seal that protects the protoform appears to have already ruptured. Your systems will register the breach as a confirmed contamination of foreign bodies, and terminate the protoform.

Ratchet looks up, finally, to see Rodimus.

There's a subtle tremor on his lips. Fear, in his matrix-blue eyes. His spark, suddenly, feels flayed open under them.

It could be in reaction to the news. Ratchet knows it isn't. He knows:

Rodimus is scared of him.

His fingers were absentmindedly stroking over the seal, and he nearly snatched them back like they'd been burned. The hand that calmly pulls out of Rodimus's valve doesn't feel like his.

For one delirious moment, he wondered if Rodimus would do just that. Light up his ridiculous mod, and burn the three of them to death together. All of them gone, in one final moment of complete and total devastation.

Drift, entirely alone, with only the memory of a conjunx to cling to. Nothing left to tell him of the sparkling he would never know he had.

The moment ends. Ratchet finds that he's the one rambling now, statistics about carriages, essential nutrients, general hazards. Somewhere in all of that, Rodimus gets unbuckled from the medberth.

He rattles out something about scheduling him regular check ups with First Aid.

And,

"I'll leave you to tell Drift the good news."

Ratchet can't look at him when he says it.

Rodimus leaves his medbay without any further commentary.

[allie-leth]

Okay, I realize this is possibly the least likely place for me to find answer on this... But how in the world do you fully flush a car's coolant system that has no radiator valve on the radiator? The turbo has its coolant valve, but that doesn't back flow into the radiator, and the reserve tank works via expansion/contraction, so without liquid in the radiator it doesn't do the thing?? I am so confused.

[cozzzynook]

Bumblebee just casually admitting the life he lived before becoming an autobot. It’s admittedly terrifying how calm and detached he sounds as he reveals he wasn’t a regular citizen bot like the others believed him to be. They each had their fair share of trauma but they never imagined Bumblebee to have the most horrifying past between them.

And the most terrifying thing about the little mech was how indifferent he seemed as he talked about it. He gave little detail but it was enough to shake them at their core. His usual childish and bright optics looked far too aged and dim to belong to someone so young and typically full of life. The way he carried himself when he spoke of life on the streets as a sparkling forced to result to being a pleasurebot at such a young build made their sparks turn and their tanks rock solid with despair and unease.

Bumblebee did not meet optic to optic with them when it slipped the first time nor did he look their direction the second time. His teammates made sure he was out of earshot when they purged their tanks at such revelations no matter how short, clipped and brief.

Bumblebee always kept a slight distance once it was brought up and made sure the others were at arms reach for days on end, unable to take how their optics looked at him.

Telling it casually to Blitzwing one night during their secret meetings was honestly a slip up he hadn’t meant to let happen. He had no intentions of telling the con anything vital of himself nor had he any want of the con laughing at his hidden past that he preferred be kept a secret.

He remembers staring with empty optics at the cons chassis before lifting himself expertly off the overly thick and painfully large spike as he stood on shaking stabilizers. Letting the excess energon and transfluids slip from his throbbing and stretched out valve as he closed his port and began the slow shaky trek back to base.

He waved a servo over his helm in parting making it a few steps away before being gripped around his waist and pulled flush against Blitzwings burning chassis armor.

“Vhat did jou just say?”

The deadly calm tone coming Hothead of all mechs was enough to ruffle Bumblebee’s empty optics and void spark.

“Put me down please.”

His request was not granted and the flashes of his teammates haunting optics crowded his processor keeping him from looking at Blitzwing’s face plates.

The triple changer didn’t bother with demanding his bug look at him, he didn’t bother to force him into conversation nor did he do anything more than heave tornado vent after vent in an attempt to cool himself internally.

Blitzwing simply held him close chassis to chassis, spark to spark, trembling frame that quaked in barely contained rage to a frozen shut frame that barely held life as Bumblebee leaked steady coolant.

There was nothing more than a shell that carved his face plates as he was held against Blitzwing. The bot gripped him tight in an effort to keep both himself and the other afloat. It was as if the con feared letting the bug go meant letting the last of his sanity go and he just couldn’t.

“please…”

Blitzwing didn’t bother trying to ask what those words meant, he wasn’t sure he could handle hearing such a broken vox and see a broken bot he grew to deeply care for more than he ever let on.

Blitzwing may have a fractured mind from undergoing the triple changer procedure but he was by no means a bucket bolt dolt. He knew there was something that haunted every bot in the ongoing war. In some way everyone was affected by something and he knew Bumblebee was no exception no matter how bright and cheery the little yellow bug was.

But this. This?

He was never expecting this of all things.

A bot like Bumblebee didn’t deserve to have suffered a fate such as this. He knew something was up when from the very beginning the bot was far too experienced for someone so young. At first he chalked it up to the mini bot having been in boot camp with other mechs. But when his bug revealed he didn’t interface with anyone besides one bot in particular during boot camp he was highly suspicious and wildly jealous at the idea of it being one of two suspected teammates.

But when his bug said the green one was only a close friend and he had no romantic or physical interest in the black and gold mech he was hostile at it being the Prime. Bumblebee outright rejected the idea of even being with Prime and the old medic was never an option and so Blitzwing grew nervous, deep in his spark he knew something was wrong but he didn’t want to believe anything but his bug being ashamed at having berthed so many partner bots.

He never hinted nor openly pried simply enjoyed holding his bug close and being sure to interface as intimately as his bug allowed.

Could he hold his bug by the faceplates as he kissed along his dermas? Letting his servos clasp curved slim hips with an affection he found within he never knew could exist. He wanted his bug gripping his hip struts tight with shaking stabilizers. He wanted to hear those delicious moans surround his audios as yellow servos scraped the paint from his shoulders. His processor dreamed of the day he could fill his bugs tight vavle with his own transfluid, safe in a berth from any war that rages as he envisions the family he once longed for eons ago. Before the war erupted, before factions existed, before he tasted the energon of his fallen comrades and the metals of his enemies.

He wanted so many things before war took hold and grabbed him. Things he’d abandoned in the face of an endless war and cruel existence forced upon him by unyielding bots who pushed them to the brink of collapse in a war they never let physically touch their servos.

Oh how he longed for such an existence with his bug who never spoke of sparklings nor family besides his small faction on Earth. To Blitzwing they were more comrades to his bug besides the big green one and the little human he’s seen his bug look at fondly. It pulled something in his spark to see his bug give a carriers affection to the little creature regardless of how much he hates most of human kind.

But now as his split processor flickers between the memories of his bug so tenderly holding the human as he moved about in front of his base to the sight of him cradling something a bit bigger. Something that beeped and squirmed, happy to be his bugs arms, close to the familiar beat of his spark, little fuzzy optics recognizing him and giggling something pure as they try to reach out to him.

To the empty blue he risks his spark for by meeting with him, separating him on the battlefield to hold him in desperate servos, thinking of fleeing his faction all for the sake of living eternity with the one bot whose mere presence granted his haunted and screaming processor and battle hardened and broken spark peace.

“mien hummel…”

“don’t.”

Its wispy and aching, pained by a life Blitzwing himself has never been forced to imagine. It breaks his spark and his digestion tanks churn painfully until he feels his sunrise of rations will come back up his throat past his glossa.

“I still,” it’s interrupted yet again by his bug who lashes out with anger, a pede hitting against his insignia and a servo pushing against his face plate. But Blitzwing is just as stubborn as his hummel if not more stubborn in such a crucial moment.

“I von’t let you go,” he whispers in his hummels audial, dermas ghosting over a faded scar, “mein hummel, no matter what jour mein hummel.”

Blitzwing did not ever lie and say he was good with comforting or words for that matter but it seems the few words he did speak from the spark and the spark driven back strut crushing hug he had on the little yellow scout spoke more than he physically could.

He hated the feeling of Bumblebee’s coolant dripping down into his neck cables, the painful grip that chipped paint along his neck guards from tiny servos that were shaking. The deafening silence of Bumblebee’s leaking accompanied with a painful quiver of his mini frame that seemed so much smaller as the little scout curled into him.

Blitzwing didn’t see his day taking a turn in this direction but he would gladly deal with the emotional strain if it meant helping his hummel.

Be it tracking down each and every bot that dared touch his precious bug or the people who cruelly left Bumblebee to fend for himself as a mere spark and youngling on the cold dirty streets of their home planet. He would find and hunt them down making them wish their spark had never been forged.

But if his bug wanted nothing more, could handle nothing more, than having him curled above his very spark. Audio pressed to hear every pump of life sustaining energon work through his frame under the protection of the night. Whispering promises his spark long shed darkness over in fear of his previous wants and desires coming to light among comrades and his leader.

He would do it.

His bug, his hummel, his Bumblebee— was more than worth it.

[drivinmeinsane]

Draw Me In

※ Driver (Drive) x Ken (Barbie) ※

{ masterlist } ※ { ao3 }

※ Summary: Ken's insatiable curiosity leads to a messy outcome when he fails to give Driver any semblance of personal space.

※ Rating: 18+ for explicit mature content.

※ Content/Tags: Semi-public sex, Frottage, Cumplay, Bruising, Ken has glittery cum (glizz), Gratuitous use of a semi-public space, Driver being Driver.

※ Word count: 3,366

※ Status: Oneshot/Complete

※ Author's Notes: I really have nothing to say in defense of myself for this one other than this isn't the last you'll see of Driver and Ken from me. The edit I put together was… a choice. Special thanks to @danime25 for proofreading this for me!

It's that liminal time between night and morning, where the distinction between the two blends together into a sleepy haze. There are no last dregs of dusk and not yet the warming glow of a predawn sun. There's only the sterile hum of the parking garage lights. The darkness further beyond is hazy with the pollution of mankind's attempt to banish the night and what hides in its embrace

Sheltered below the metric tons of concrete and steel of the parking garage, Ken watches Driver work under the hood of his car. He's methodically removing tubing and cleaning the connection points before putting in fresh hoses. The function and purpose is beyond the blond man, but he still hovers nearby. He's insatiably curious about everything to do with the "real world".

He shuffles closer, peering over the working man's shoulder. He looks for something to comment on. He's yearning for his attention. "What's that part do?" He asks, mouth nearly against Driver's neck. He's rewarded by the man looking in the direction of his pointing finger. 

"Expansion valve. It turns the coolant into a vapor." His voice causes Ken's stomach to flip. He shivers a little at the feeling and instead focuses on trying to parse out what the words mean. He comes up with nothing and just stares blankly at the.... expanding value? He's already forgotten what the other man had called it. 

"So cool." He finally says. His tone is more confident than he feels.

Inexplicably, Driver's shoulders hitch and shake for a moment as though he let out a silent laugh. He frowns. He didn't think he said anything funny. He takes the step forward that bridges the miniscule gap between them. Ken hooks his chin over the other man's shoulder to get a better look at his hands. They're the same height which causes Ken to rise onto his tiptoes and fully press his body against him, leaning into him for support. He feels Driver tense, his hands go still on the material he is about to cut. He can feel the rise and fall of his back against his chest. He's so warm. Ken settles comfortably against him. He hears the click of the other man's throat and the wet parting of his lips, but no words come.

He rapturously watches Driver's hands while his fingers deftly work the freshly cut hose into the connection points. He gasps a little when he sees his thumb brush over the tip, his hand giving the material a firm tug to get it into place. His stomach swoops and heat floods his body. Pressure starts to build, and he rubs his crotch against the man in front of him. He whines a little at the sensation and repeats the motion over and over. Driver doesn't protest, doesn't say a word, only widens his stance to give him more access. Ken finds himself getting lost in the feeling building up inside him and he presses his face against the mechanic's back. He's making quiet noises. He can't stop them from breaking loose, he just feels so good. Driver feels so good. 

The minute shifts of Driver's body, the way he leans and twists away from Ken is too much. The indifference he's showing him sparks something furiously demanding in him. He needs to be closer, needs more more more more. He blindly fumbles for the other man's hip to pull him flush and hold him still. He wants to chase down the heated sensation, to use the man against him to get to the finish. 

Driver abruptly straightens and takes a step back from the '73 Malibu. Ken stumbles. The moment is shattered, and he's completely taken by surprise. His hand slides off of the man's hip. Embarrassment lances through him. "I'm sorry."

"Didn't do anything worth apologizing for." His voice is relaxed despite there being a rough, cracking edge to it that makes Ken inspect his face closely for any emotions when he turns around. Nothing, he's vague as always.

Ken stands there, hands clenching and struggling to stay at his sides while he watches Driver take a seat on the edge of the open car.  He's slightly damp with sweat, strong arms smeared with grease and grime. He looks so imperfectly human. Ken wants to touch all of his flaws. Memorize them. Marvel in everything that separates the man from being a doll. It's a sickening feeling to watch Driver's attention shift from him to their surroundings. Something akin to jealousy boils under his skin and he crowds in too close, nearly pressed against the seated man's knees. The heat of Driver's body attracts him like a moth to the destructive flame.

Driver starts to lean down towards him and for a deliciously, delirious second, Ken thinks that the other man is going to take him by the belt loops and pull him in close to lick a stripe up his exposed stomach. He doesn't, much to Ken's disappointment. He simply picks up a rag from the toolbox near their feet and proceeds to wipe his broad hands. It does little to clear away the grime stubbornly clinging to his skin. His hands are still smudged. Ken knows that if Driver were to touch him, his own perfect skin would be marred with ghostly impressions of his exploration. Black and gray handprints against tan skin. A police department's worth of fingerprint impressions.

Driver takes the toothpick out of his mouth and tucks it securely behind one ear. He stands up and calmly latches the car's hood. It clicks closed and the sound echoes in the silence populated only by the irregular hitches of Ken's breathing as he tries to keep himself in check. The mechanic regards him with one of his bland expressions before Ken spots a flash of hunger in his eyes that the impassive man can't quite hide. He perks up slightly at the direct attention and gives him a sheepish smile.

Driver returns it with one of his slow, crooked grins. The one that makes the skin around his eyes crinkle. With all the nonchalance in the world, he reaches out with calloused hands and grabs Ken by his denim vest. He pulls him heartbreakingly close before twisting and slamming him down onto his back on top of the Malibu's hood almost hard enough to put a dent in the decades old metal.

The resulting noise is like thunder in the enclosed space. Ken stares up at the man above him, mouth slightly agape. He's spread out over the hood of Driver's car. He chokes back a moan and arches his back, tilts his head to expose the thick column of his neck, spreads his legs... the whole nine yards. He gives the other man all the signals in the world to know that he's presenting himself for him. He's treated with the sight of Driver clenching his jaw and swallowing hard enough that Ken can see his Adam's apple bob. His pupils are blown wide. They're deep pools ringed with bright blue.

Suddenly, deliciously, Driver steps up between his spread legs and covers Ken's mouth with his own. He clenches his thighs around the mechanic's narrow hips. He reaches up to twist his fingers in the man's shirt, but his wandering hands are quickly captured by one of Driver's. They're pinned to the glossy metal above his head. He whimpers and gasps against the other man's mouth. The sounds seem to affect the man kissing him because he clenches his fingers and digs them hard into the delicate bones of his wrists. He, for his part, is silent even as he breaks the kiss and trails his nose along the curve of Ken's jaw and down into the crook of his neck. He pauses there, breath causing goosebumps to erupt on the prone man's skin.

"Please, please, please." Ken is not even sure what exactly he's begging for. Even to his own ears, he sounds raw and desperate for whatever the other blond man is willing to give him. He feels like he's so worked up with want that he could be sick from it all.

Driver cuts his pleading off by abruptly pressing his hand over his mouth. He holds Ken in place likes a specimen on a board, something worth keeping and studying. Ken's hips thrash and buck up against the man between his legs. He's writhing in desperate arousal. His jeans feel too tight, too constricting against his crotch. His tongue passes over his lips, inadvertently licking Driver's palm. The fingers tighten their grip and dig into the soft skin of his cheeks. He arches his back at the sensation and feels Driver's erection throb against him. Chest to chest, pelvis to pelvis, he wants Driver to grind against him until they are one being. Until they are merged together like some brand new creature.

His world is narrowed down to the smooth surface of the car and their two bodies moving under the harsh lighting. "Give me something." He begs, words smothered, barely audible.

Driver obeys and bites down on the juncture of Ken's neck and shoulder. A burst of pain, of pleasure, radiates through his body and he squeezes his eyes closed, savoring the sting. His shout of surprise is muffled underneath Driver's hand.  He feels him soothe the flesh with a wet swipe of his tongue. Ken's whining and whimpering in earnest now. His moans leak out from around the bruising grip Driver has on his jaw.

"Shhhh. Going to let go of you now. I need you to quiet down. Do you understand?" The other man's voice is rough and winded. It's thick with arousal. 

Ken nods frantically underneath his hand. He feels the grip loosen slowly. Driver removes his hand but keeps his thumb resting on Ken's bottom Iip. He's thoughtfully pressing into the pliant flesh and coaxing his mouth open. He parts his lips willingly for Driver, thoroughly enjoying the way he's looking at him. He licks the pad of his thumb, relishes the way the other blond inhales sharply. Ken grows a little bolder, taking his finger into the slick pinkness of his mouth. He sucks on it, tasting the saltiness of sweat and something dusty, a little chemical tang. 

Ken is throbbing and leaking uncomfortably. He can feel the other man's erection rubbing against his own through the layers of clothing they're both wearing. He can't take the pressure any more and impatiently rolls his hips. He's desperately seeking friction. Driver's hand clenches warningly on his wrists. He doesn't heed it and his feet scramble for purchase against the front bumper. He presses his heels into it and grinds up hard.

It seems like he's snapped something inside of the other man because he pulls back from him with the same abruptness he had displayed when he threw him down onto the hood of the Chevelle. Ken lets out a frustrated whine at the loss of chest to chest contact. The other man pulling away had felt akin to a rejection, but he's not given too long to feel unwanted because Driver trails both hands down his prone, trembling body. The wheelman pauses, lingering on his chest. He kneads the yielding skin there, almost experimentally grazing his thumbs over his nipples. The skin of his hands is rough against his sensitive skin. Ken thrashes against him like he's touched a live wire, he feels as though his body has turned into one pounding heart with each thrum of his pulse. The car creaks under him. He pushes his body into Driver's, seeking the contact that was withdrawn. The words that escape him are almost completely unintelligible.

"Please, need- need it." he keens.

Driver gives him a final squeeze before firmly sliding his hands down the rest of his body. Ken's muscles tense and tremble underneath the caressing touches. Ken feels how hard Driver is against the junction of his legs. He's not entirely sure all the moisture soaking through the denim is his. He has a strong suspicion that at least some of it is the other man's precum, not his.

Ken struggles to keep himself still and cooperative when the other man reaches his waistband and unceremoniously works his pants open. The release of the constrictive material causes him to gasp. Driver's hand pins his hip down firmly, keeping him still enough to pull down his thong to expose his cock. Ken moans as his twitching erection springs free and the head of it collides with Driver's abdomen. He barely has time to get used to the sensation before Drive is curled over his body and rutting against him. Humping him like both of their lives depend on it. and, given the way Ken feels on fire, they might. He sets a frantic pace, the denim is deliciously rough against Ken's flushed skin and it's all he can do to meet him thrust for thrust. The car is rocking and creaking from the force of their actions. Ken doesn't know much about cars, but he has a fleeting notion that this might not be the best thing for the automobile.

Driver's open mouthed panting over him. Drops of his sweat are falling on Ken's tan skin, but Ken is struck dumb by how intent and ravenous Driver's face is. Haloed by the florescent lights, he looks like he's going to devour him whole. Like the wolf Ken had seen on the TV relentlessly pursuing something called a bison. He remembers the wolf's mouth and its panting, toothy grin. It's echoed in the way Driver is looking at him. It thrills him to be the object of so much attention. His whole body is flushed with pleasure and he purposely presents himself a little more just to pull a reaction from the other man. It works. The parking garage is echoing with Ken's moans and the sound of the car struggling to hold its ground and not roll back.

He's so close to imploding like a dying star, but the soaked fabric of the jeans that the other man is still wearing is starting to chafe in a way that's painful. He makes a grab for Driver's belt. No motion is made to halt his efforts.. He sits up just enough to see what he's doing. Driver follows his gaze, and the blond man hears him give a harsh exhale.

"Oh," Ken breathes out, his movements stuttering as he takes in the scene. His hands are fighting with the belt, the silver buckle shining as brightly as the mess Ken's made on the front of the other man. His glittery precum is slicked all over the thin, white shirt and the dark wash jeans. Even the belt is slippery with the sparkling mess, causing Ken's fingers to slide off with each roll of Driver's hips. Ken's own clothing is not any better. His cock is still drooling the clear, glitter infused fluid. 

He manages to get the belt undone and winces as the buckle catches him in the thigh, he isn't dissuaded though and yanks Driver's pants open. He falls flat on his back again, overwhelmed at the sight of the mechanic's obvious arousal. He had done that to Driver. He is so very desperately wanted, needed even. They're skin to skin now. Driver is dripping and leaking, they're both slick with it. Ken reaches down and slides his hands into the man's back pockets, clamping down on his ass and pulling him in. His feet are still braced on the bumper and with Driver held in place right where he needs, he grinds against him. 

Driver kisses him again. He loses himself in the sensation of lips against his own, slippery, throbbing lengths gliding together with each of his motions. The stunt driver is anchored firmly over him and Ken is taking exactly what he wants. He starts to feel tears run down his cheeks from the ruinous sensations. It’s all so much. How could he have never existed somewhere that this pleasure doesn't exist?

"Don't stop, please, don't stop." Ken begs against his mouth, his voice is starting to sound raw. His vocal chords are overused.

"I won't." Driver responds. He sounds a little strangled.

He bites Ken's bottom lip, swollen from all the attention it's been getting, and pries a sweet moan from him in response. It's the final straw, Ken cums with a shout. He squeezes his eyes shut and about rips one of Driver's back pockets right off. Wetness coats them both in pulses. He feels the splatter against his stomach, against his chest. The wet sounds of their bodies moving together is grossly obscene.

Ken's eyes snap open as Driver drags a hand through the wetness between them. He whines as he feels the other man seek out the evidence of his release with those thick fingers. The hand is removed and Ken stares wide eyed as the wheelman looks consideringly at his fingers. They're liberally coated in Ken's glittery semen. It shines like a jewelry store's worth of diamonds under the fluorescents overhead. They make eye contact, and there's a small, crooked smile on Driver's face. It's the only warning he gets before those wet fingers are brushing over his lips, glossing them with his own release. Ken's throat works. The look on the other man's face has him breathless. He feels Driver's body shudder and his cock jerk as he looks down at him. 

"What are you thinking about?" He whispers. There's several heartbeats of silence before the man speaks, and when he does, it's more of an inner monologue than anything that would normally come out of his mouth if he were in his right mind.

"I'm thinking 'bout how I want to see you in some kinda lip gloss. Might feel sticky and gritty if I kissed you. Bet you would look pretty, just like now. All pink. Sparkly." 

Ken has just a moment to tell himself he's going to wear the product every single moment as long as it makes the other blond man look at him in this way before Driver finds the marks he had left behind earlier. His sturdy hand grips Ken's jaw hard enough to bruise all over again. He fucks himself up against Ken's softening cock and kisses him. He feels the mechanic's tongue swipe over his lips, tasting the salty release on them. Ken kisses back like it's his only tether to Earth. Driver finally cums. 

The other man tenses and shakes. He lets go of Ken's jaw and instead places the hand next to his head. He goes boneless on top of him and Ken gives his ass a reassuring squeeze before sliding his hands up under his rucked up shirt to rest on his lower back, warm skin under his hands.    

"That felt so good." Ken feels the other man's penis give a twitch and a weak spurt after his words. He hears him give a quiet groan. 

They lay there for a moment, stomach to stomach, slick wetness between them before Driver pushes himself onto his palms and peels himself from Ken. He sits up to watch the other man search for something to wipe them clean with. He finally locates a clean enough rag and Ken gets a front row seat to watch Driver wipe away the mess they had made together. The flexing of his arms as he cleans up captivates Ken and he has to grab his thighs to keep from reaching out and pulling the other man down on top of him again. He loses himself in the sight until he's startled a little by Driver handing the rag to him. He takes it and looks down at himself. His skin is covered in grease and grime marks in the shape of Driver's hands. Ripening bruises and a love bite mark his flawless skin, but most captivating of all;  he's painted in a mixture of his own glittery cum shot through with the milky swirls of Driver's. It reminds him of photos he had seen of space. He decides right then that it's beautiful.