It’s Starscream's fault, usually is.
The red-eyed brat, not satisfied with the claim she holds over Megatron in the waking realm, had to slither into her dreams. Twist and reconfigure her usual blank and uneventful slumber into something where the image of her would feel welcome. Incapable of leaving Megatron with a scrap of her own autonomy. No. To have Starscream is to belong to Starscream, nothing less - and her sapphire-trimmed lover seemed to know it.
The dream itself was hardly a surprise.
The daytime hours before such a dream were spent on the long drive to the airfield. The open plains of worthless horizon framing her car, fresh air and sunshine disagreeing with her skin hardened by coal smoke cities and fluorescent lights. The sight of copper pipes and cement floors as natural to Megatron as any blade of grass or distant mountain silhouette. she eventually had to borrow Soundwave’s colored glasses as the intrusive sun humiliated the SUV’s attempt at tinted windows. Piercing through the dark veil of glass to worm itself into an ache behind Megatron’s sensitive eyes. The pupils left raw after many years of Shockwave’s fine tuning while the fresh air only made her feel heavy and tired. Leaning on her palm while Soundwave drove on in silence. Comfortable as they have been for many, many years.
At the first sound of engines cutting the sky Megatron knew she'd dozed off. Righting herself in the passenger seat as the scene of the renovated and updated base had surrounded them without her knowledge. Former military signs replaced with her company’s logo and extensive warnings for trespassers. Gold and black patterned dogs barking at their approach, men in dark uniform and a matte purple design across their hearts wrestling with the canines’ pulling ruthless and on guard.
The entry station recognized Soundwave and went rigid at Megatron’s presence. A polite greeting and they were on their way across the campus with no further delay. Scattered buildings of metal frame, the open walkways spotted in private guard and rushing intellectuals talking rapidly among themselves. Tarp covered crates and towering electrical grids all weaving and worming into these intimidating structures. Silver solar panels heavy across rooftops and the sound of jet-engines made the air vibrate as they drew closer to the runway.
It was an unusually warm fall day - heat sunk into the tops of her polished shoes as they stepped out of the vehicle. Approaching the tented command center, an awning of Seeker-red. The bloodied color a favorite of her clever little lover and found the only mark of Starscream’s family had snuck its way in where it could. Like the past trying to slip out in oozing color where Megatron and her command had painted over many times before.
Thundercracker stood out among the gathered control stations, moving and tracking their curtained screens - in communication with specks on the horizon twisting in daring and delicate motion high in the open blue sky. The eldest of the Seeker trio in a rarely seen uniform, weapon at her hip and arms crossed over the broad chest. Checking a radio in her ear and giving command of the facility’s entire security - outranking all here wearing a badge and the only one of the Seekers with any real combat experience.
Thundercracker noticed their arrival, giving a short salute as the soldier in her crept out, motioning for Megatron and Soundwave to stand near. Offering headpieces to make it easier to communicate and cut out the noise of three jets still on the tarmac, their engines flaring and pouring an almost intolerable amount of heat across the base.
“She’ll be down soon.” Was all the woman had to say, pointing to the sky where bladed shapes flew. Twisting and curling across open blue uninhibited by gravity or logic. One in particular dissecting the world above with exceptional ease and intricate design, the almost impossible turns and spiraling falls like a serpent through fine grain - unstoppable motion conquering the sky as a kingdom to manipulate.
Casually remaking the blue into nothing more than an endless terrain for her own use, taking Megatron’s awe right along with it.
Starscream was raised by the sound of jet engines and the domination of the sky. Told Megatron as much when her childhood was brought up. The glittering excitement in her dark framed eyes retelling her first time in the air, her chest swelling in the memory. A little prince shown her empire at the comfort of a multi-million dollar war craft - and the impact it left on Megatron’s serpentine seeker as oxygen and burning fuel never seemed to leave her veins.
When Starscream lands her newest project, heat and noise spilling across the runway like a sleek dragon carving through and spitting flame, it’s an event. Megatron stands her ground but Soundwave turns at the noise even with the insulation of headgear and Thundercracker putting herself between Soundwave and the worst of it. A physical shield in more ways than one, the woman so used to life at the sidelines of war machines and the manic minds which craft them. But Megatron stands tall and still while the rush of air tossed hair and clipped papers of the tented command post about. The red shape, glossy panels and pale wings, setting down with little fuss. An ace pilot at the helm while those observing either flitter around readings and display screens, or stare in awe as the new pride of their aerial line comes to a rolling stop. Vents a hersing exhale over the base and Megatron watching carefully the silhouettes inside the amber glass of the canopy as it rises.
Megatron questions if Starscream has experienced the world going silent to frame an image? If the brat has ever had lungs rung empty by motion and shape - the lean grace of a woman rising from a cockpit as crew and engineers rush the shadow beneath wings like scrambling ants.
She wonders if Starscream has ever been struck silent at a woman plucking a helmet from her skull just to have a glare of sunlight streak across dark skin and red eyes, a warm breeze cutting through and tangling hair beginning to curl at the crown from sweat and exhilaration.
As Starscream grins with perfected white teeth, chest heaving with energy as she surveys her victory, her name stitched and branded across the flight-suit just below the symbol over her heart. Megatron’s symbol - more than a cheap logo - adorning Starscream’s body as the spoiled Prince of Vos climbs from the jet. Unbothered by the commotion as she parts the workers tending to the machinery, standing beneath a wing and turning with the stubborn nudge of the breeze until that pale shape molds across her shoulders. Leaving her soft with elation as Starscream merges with her own creation in illusion of a glaring sun. Jet wide and glimmering in the bright sunshine, blinding almost as it seems to sprout from Starscream’s back like her own wings tearing from her spine.
Megatron questions if Starscream will ever know how obscenely cruel she is, to be so beautiful and only pretend to understand it.
The woman notices her across the distance and those red eyes look orange in the light, a blazing pyre in the noise and motion as the world catches back up to Starscream’s existence. Behind her brat Skywarp appears from the canopy, hoping down with a different sort of energy, slapping her sister on the shoulder before rushing past. Sparing a second to glance Megatron’s way and the smile was knowing, even as Starscream pushed her back and moved with noticeable haste across the distance. Ignoring her engineers and techs as she did, shoving her helmet painted with gold and red like a twisted crown (her Father’s symbol, the mark of Starscream’s lineage) into their waiting hands and moving through them like a blade.
“Impressive, isn’t it?”
“You look stupid.” her seeker grinned, smile unchecked by her usual need for theatrics. Too swollen by her time in the sky, conquering and clever.
“Unlike you I’m not used to ther noise.” Megatron answers, but still removed the headgear out of the smallest embarrassment, wincing at the sun which seemed to follow Starscream like a cloak. The banner of her empire coloring her lover bronze and gold.
“You poor old fool.” Starscream chuckled, almost too soft to be heard over quieting engines and yelling controllers herding the jets and the research team about. All ther forgotten past Starscream’s sharp smile and the gloved hands rising to box the edges of Megatron’s brow. Having to stand on tiptoe (now without the added height of her usual raised footwear) of heavy boots to reach her. “There, I’ll protect you.” Teases, but her hands cast shadow across Megatron’s eyes and shield her from the sunlight, allowing her to relax the stiff squint and fully take in Starscream’s appearance.
The sweat and matted hairline, chapped lip and grease scuff across a cheek. The smell of sour engine fuel and hot tar competing with Starscream’s sweetness, the feel of her body shivering when Megatron gently cradles her wrists and holds her secure in her reach.
Megatron has loved twice before.
One was taken from her. One she let leave…
Neither felt like ther.
But Megatron holds a racing pulse beneath the pads of her thumbs - and knows not Primus or Mortilus could rip Starscream from her grasp.
“Show me what you’ve accomplished.” she requests, as is the reason for her visit. Mourning the quick loss of Starscream’s touch as the woman retreats. Smile wicked, ever lingering.
“I think you’ll like it.”
They spend the remainder of the day walking the base, checking in on assembly buildings and Starscream trying to wow Megatron into a higher budget and time allowance by the presentation. It’s the reason Megatron brought Soundwave to ther check-in, their firm “no” keeping Megatron out of trouble with Starscream rather than deny her seeker outright. Hardly a coward’s move, hiding behind her personal assistant. Starscream did better when it wasn’t Megatron denying her wants and even Thundercracker and Skywarp looked relieved when their third tensed, but did not tantrum.
There was a moment as the sun dropped and the wear of Starscream’s tour guide voice fell away, allowing Ramjet to take over as Soundwave made notes. Observed. Memorized. Megatron feeling the weight of the woman at her side, Starscream’s skin tacky in dried sweat and tired eyes shifting beneath black lashes. Megatron resting a hand on the other’s shoulder, rubbing gentle circles where none would see against her neck.
“We should leave, it’s a long drive back.”
“No. My team isn’t due to go until tomorrow.” Starscream yawned, dismissing Megatron’s suggestion and yet leaning into her touch. Always so ready to make things difficult for Megatron, ready to undermine where she can.
“Why not Screamer?” Skywarp pipes up, grinning from ear to ear as she leans over Thundercracker’s shoulder. Flightsuit unzipped to the belt and her collar spotted in intimate bruising. “TC and I can wrap up no problem, you should go.”
Starscream wears a face knowing exactly what her “sisters” are intending - a curious wonder on Megatron’s part of how many times her jets have been defiled by rambunctious seekers. Choosing to ignore the obvious for now as their pressure seemed enough for Starscream to wear her best imitation of annoyed and give in.
“Fine.” she glares, but her knuckles brush Megatron’s hip. “But I’m not driving.”
She in fact does not drive.
Nor does Starscream remain awake for the drive.
Soundwave sits passenger, focused on their phone until the woman in the back seat stops shuffling around. Breath evening into a quiet snore before Soundwave takes their own coat, turning to drop it over the sleeping form curled across the seats. Wordless. Always the caretaker. They even shoot a look at Megatron, something to confirm they will not take comment on their action as Megatron only feels victorious at the exchange. Important for her inner circle to find peace with one another, no tolerance for disruption. One day Starscream would tame herself for the greater good and she could have the more she demanded. For now, Megatron was happy feeding her distraction and work and her attention.
They arrive at Starscream’s home well after nightfall, Soundwave taking the car as Megatron wakes the sleeping woman. Snapped at and then suffering the pout when Starscream demands to be carried. Huffing and puffing when Megatron simply walks away and tells her to sleep in the car. Amused when the younger woman catches up in the elevator and crosses arms - ignoring Megatron at the same time as trying to make a scene for her attention.
Megatron silently follows the frowning woman back to her apartment door, into the home of hard lines and cold where she's been given space for few things. Questioning how long it will take for Starscream to realize there’s now food in her fridge or that it’s not delivery bringing her breakfast. Small actions gone ignored as Starscream’s world is closed off to anything past herself - slowly unpeeling to give inches to Megatron. But she's a patient woman and can wait, can be still or push, it’s all a matter of time.
“I’m taking a shower.”
“Good idea.” Megatron follows her to the bedroom then the bathroom, unmoving as the woman shrieks and tries to push her out. Claiming gross and absolutely not long enough to believe she's put up a believable resistance. Letting out the prettiest sound when Megatron hoists her onto the brushed steel of the counter-top which stretched across the over-sized bathroom. Peeling them from clothes with a hurried pace as the shower steamed and filled the room with heat just as endless as the machines spewing their fire over the runway. Kissing the snarling brat back into the mirror while dark legs struggled to cage her waist. Starscream’s body still hot and vibrating with jet engines from the day cutting through the open skies and soaking up the sun.
By the time they stumble into the shower Megatron’s strength is the only thing keeping Starscream standing. Hard hand pawing between her shaking thighs, clawed grip pinching into the flesh of Megatron’s wrists as she holds on. The sounds strained and wonderful swallowed against Megatron’s lips when she kisses demanding and rough. Stiff where she rut against the cleft of Starscream’s wet and soapy backside, pinning her against the tiled corner and working her open with slow motion and teeth braced against a shuddering throat.
It was feral and messy until it wasn’t. The shower spray clattering against her face and shoulders as she held Starscream with a bruising grip sinking into her. Feeling every muscle tense as hands sought purchase against a slippery wall. Useless where she was held, somehow both taut and boneless as Starscream's brow met the tile and she whined for more. Already the rough welts of Megatron’s teeth and Starscream’s nails were bright even under the fog of heat and Starscream’s breathy moans. Each patient thrust slower than the last until her wicked seeker was coming slow and shivering as she cursed. Thighs quaking where no strength was left. Pretty face furious as she glowered over a soapy shoulder and seemed to trick herself into disappointment while the evidence otherwise washed obscene down her legs. The strangled noise as Megatron retrieves her own body from the depths of Starscream’s otherwise soft form.
“I have all night.” Megatron promised, trialing lips against the curve of Starscream’s ear, a delicate motion she knows the woman pretends to hate. Defines herself by a false preference of harsh and rough where Megatron has seen the other unfold and beg when she's gentle. Beautiful thing fighting her at every turn.
“You’ll be asleep before I’m satisfied.” Starscream puffs and shudders when Megatron kisses her again. Throat collared by her hand as she pressed the woman back into the soiled tile wall and covered her from the hush of the shower-head, water pouring down her shoulders and chest. Starscream’s claws tracing across old scars both streaks and sunbursts before straddling a broad thigh and grinning against Megatron’s kiss as she rocks against the still hardened length of her.
Starscream lost that bet.
Half asleep and spent some time later as her flexible body went limp and lax around Megatron’s torso. The bed beneath still damp from their rushed stumble onto the red sheets. Starscream's mouth the same raw color from a relentless kiss and her own reckless stretch around Megatron’s girth. Black hair curled and tangled from Megatron’s hand combing and grasping tight onto the bobbing skull, Cursing and praising the brat before having enough and needing to pin her down into the color she loves so much until she cried Megatron’s name.
And when she was spent, energy depleted by the sun, the sky and Megatron, she muttered in her content state. Lowered to bed sheets and hersing in distaste for Megatron’s arms wrapped around her, but digging fingers and tangling legs tight so she was locked around her still. Burying her nose against Megatron’s pulse so in turn she was smothered by the tangled black hair and nuzzling creature.
He kisses Starscream’s brow and chuckles at what sounds like a complaint as her brat dozes, both a mess and blankets far from casual reach. Megatron knowing he’ll be woken with a shivering tantrum tomorrow but agreeing it was worth the later trouble if for now she could just stroke the edges of Starscream’s hairline. Hold her close (and silent) as she counts the ease in which Starscream’s breath falls to an even pace - so unlike before when Starscream would pretend to be asleep for hours if they shared a bed. Still not ready for that level of intimacy even if Megatron had just been inside her. My how things have changed, and how drastic those changes were.
He did not expect Starscream to invade her dreams so effortlessly as she had carved out a place for herself in Megatron’s waking life. Yet here they were...
There is the cry of the crowd and the storming of feet on floors. Rattling the ancient wood which held the great structure together, sending even the dust beneath her feet to quake. The rhythmic pounding of the audience floods her pulse, her blood. Almost deafening her to the world beyond the streams of veins and the shaking inside her chest as lungs expand to take in the bitter air, salted by the near sea and the blood spilled across her brow.
It does not, however, distract from her purpose. Still aware when her combatant swings the blade wide, nearly catching Megatron’s exposed side where the leather does not reach. The cry of fury at the miss and charging forward with weapon in strict hold, Megatron parrying with the flat of her broad blade and the spark ignites to the screams of the crowd. The pounding of her heart louder as she rolls forward, quick for her size, up on her feet before her enemy can recover. Blood splashes her face like hot rain as she drives her weapon swift and upward across the exposed thighs. The cry is louder, but the cheers are endless, washing any sense of pain from Megatron’s ears as her combatant spins wild and off kilter. The look of fear never reaching too far past the drive of violence and their war song, bottled and poured across ther field for the crowd.
They dive for one another, Megatron faster. Dodging the slash of the pike and taking the dull ache as it cracks over the shoulder armor. her arm outstretched and grasping the collared throat of her enemy, both tumbling downwards at the power of her landing. Dust kicks up around them, the scramble of desperate men and copper soaked tongues as she can imagine what it looks like beyond. A cloud and screams and a flash of blades before the sickening crack and scatter of red across the coliseum dirt when her challenger surrenders - beaten and unmoving save for the gasping chest pierced by Megatron’s weapon.
Megatron stands, the winner. Raises her bloodied sword above her head...and there is no sound louder than the cries of victory from those who did not fight the battle.
Around the colosseum of harsh shapes and towers of silver, the vibration of motion as endless viewers stand - screaming and cheering for her murderous victory. Losing their claim to sanity over the drip of crimson down the polished blade. she can't possibly see every face, but they all look the same. Gaunt and starved, pretty things dressed in their finest suits of silk and gold to impress no one but themselves. These creatures swarming for bloodshed and only satisfied by the bodies scattering the field whose only crime was to try and survive in a pit against Megatron.
her name chanted and the building, massive and daring to challenge the sky for territory, quakes her title as the highest balcony unfolds banners down the white and carved stone. Impressive structure of twisting silver part with unseen forces to reveal what she is fighting for - who shares the collar around her neck and the heart pounding in her chest as she stands beside her struggling foe. Staring up into the sun crowning the dark awning to protect ther creature from the glare, though Megatron knows the sun should instead fear for her safety instead.
An entity emerges and the crowd goes still.
Dressed in sheer reds and intricate plates of silver and sapphire down her waist she approaches the edge of her platform. The sun pouring down bare shoulders and long arms, heavy armored claws looking delicate down hands braced at her hips. The comfort in which ther creature is bare and exposed is breathtaking - but nothing more so than the face of pure pleasure. The crooked smile, wicked and yet sublime. Twisting the features of an angel into a devil’s song as her patron stands framed in her own decadence, the wind tousling the endless black curls gentle across her face. Fine mouth painted red where dark skin is marked in complicated patterns of ancient language, catching the sun and causing the entity to shine bright enough to challenge the stars.
“Impressive, aren’t you?’ she speaks level but the sound echoes through Megatron’s skin as if wherpered against her sternum, almost bowing at the sheer delight of it. The familiar warm purr, and bladed edges of her patron’s voice.
The crown ther creature wears casts a violent shadow across the colosseum floor, beginning to stretch across the blackened dust and soil, finding the edges of Megatron’s own and beginning to devour it. Piece by piece, and she feels it, being consumed by ther thing with the angel’s smile and the whole of ther world watching her - as Starscream’s vision does not leave Megatron’s form.
There is a sound like hurricanes brewing from the south, violent and consuming as twin wings rise from Starscream’s back. Seraphic and sleek. Pale feathers tinted red at the edges as if dragged across the blood soaked battlefield - bestowing a last touch of beauty over the dead before their souls were forsaken to Mortilus. Standing at the ledge of her viewing box as the world and sun and sky kneel to her smallest smile. Awestruck and obsessed as she is deserving.
“My champion.” Starscream muses and raises wings to shadow Megatron’s brow, sparing her from the sun’s jealousy. Slim wrist outstretched as her hand motions a command.
And Megatron nods before burying her sword into her combatant’s heart. A sacrifice for an angel.
Megatron does not bow. Will not bow to any King or Angel in these wicked lands. Will not bow even to Starscream, who knows ther, but lets pale teeth peek from dark lips as the dream holds no further logic. Twisting time and moments into something unfathomable and she is no longer in the colosseum.
Now she sinks into the heat of a warm bath as armor is left abandoned by the brass door. Gasping as the wounds of her fights are flooded with perfumed and steamed waters. The massive pool lined in pale blue stones which glow possessed of unknown magic and held by the wher of their master. Starscream still adorned in her crown and jewelry, freed of the bothersome silks and sheer red cloth, waiting for her across the distance. Megatron’s shape parting the water and rippling outwards towards ther angelic thing with sharp teeth and waiting claws, eager to join her across the distance. Falling into her grasp with a heavy grunt and at the first touch of gold freckled skin she is starved.
Ther prince parts her legs without hesitation, clutching with metal claws to Megatron’s shoulders as she has little patience to wait. Easing herself into ther beautiful thing, the uncurled gasp and tense frame surrounding her as only she can satisfy ther deity. Only she can make it more than a lovely adornment on a petty throne.
Starscream cries her name, kisses her bruises cheeks and water is streaked across the wings poised helpless and raised above them. her body arched and craving as Starscream is treated as something crude and to be taken by a mere gladiator. Pinned against sloshing edges while Megatron dares to mark the skin beneath her teeth and claim her deep and warm where no others would see. her every sound swallowed with more devotion than ther creature will ever know by her hoards of priests and fans.
“My champion.” she moans as Megatron takes what is her, worship in the motion of her body stripping Starscream of her elegance. Wanting her gasping and scrambling as any mortal would, reforming her into something meant only for Megatron's hands. Vision blurred by the other's silver tears as she kisses quiet and tender across the silver streaked jaw - the dream taking her once more.
They are standing at the edges of a battlefield.
All are dead.
All are one in ther death and only distant vultures survived the carnage.
Cities burn. Thrones fall and a new iron suit has been built around Megatron’s body.
He doesn’t wear a crown, but instead she carries a badge sealed into the metal by a scalding brand - the same painted across Starscream’s flesh as her beloved raises now all-red wings in wonder at the destruction they have caused.
Starscream also no longer wears a crown, but unlike Megatron, she misses the luxury. Pouts when any fine things are taken from her, but replies in eager lust and excitement when splendor is replaced with cruel weapons and the joy of torment. Picking off foes and those who might try and deter their path, her devilish lover presenting corpses like a dowry. Both blushing and hopeful with thin red eyes awaiting approval.
But here on their battlefield her angel and she are smiling. Shackles spilling off their hearts and a new horizon to explore, to rebuild into something they choose. Anything they wish at their shadows spread across ther wretched terrain of red banners and orange brands - of old hierarchies and cruelties which kept one a pretty ornament, and the other a General in chains. Enslaved to her blood which she now feels drying tacky and sharp against her brow and beneath the armor. Victorious as her battered and bruised body dares to rest for the moment in the company of her other half.
“Megatron?” Starscream questions, gentle for a creature who brought fire and mayhem upon their enemies, commanding her winged sisters like a swarm pulling the sky from her frame and carving a new world for their intention. Under Megatron’s name.
In ther dream, ther future, Starscream has changed greatly from the pampered princess atop her tower throne. Now scarred sweetly and armored in dark colors, her twin swords sheathed at sharp hips - hair cut and pleated in the same manner as Megatron’s as they stand side by side at the precipice of their future won.
Megatron bows to kiss where before a delicate crown rested atop her lover's brow, once trapping her as the prettiest prisoner.
One Megatron found, one Megatron freed.
“My angel.” she whispers, reverent as a vow while the dead begin humming a coliseum chant from their graves.
Starscream watches Megatron dream.
It’s a funny thing, how cozy the other has gotten in her presence. How she believes Starscream has fallen asleep before her and lets herself remain unguarded now. Unguarded enough at least.
She questions if Megatron realizes Starscream isn’t as stupid as she pretends, if she thinks Starscream hasn’t noticed the men standing at far away buildings every night since the gilded party? If she thinks Starscream is blind to the sudden increase of guard and false privacy between them now that she's let Megatron slip inside ther little fracture made beneath her behemoth fists pounding away sloppily since they first met.
It makes Starscream smile, giddy in fact as she props herself on elbows watching the noble brow wrinkle with some unknown reverie. Wondering what her employer is dreaming of? If it’s a good dream or another nightmare that Starscream wont comment on in the morning. There aren’t a lot, but she's woken to Megatron cursing in accented tone against unseen rivals enough times to see past ther perfected facade of complete control - and knows better than to use vulnerability as something to tease. Megatron is not vulnerable often and Starscream swallows down a possessive knot in her throat thinking anyone else might have ever seen her in such a way.
her lip curls in a rather unattractive manner thinking too hard about it, and she feels both foolish and thankful Megatron’s not awake to see her mooning over the possibility of past lovers. Or able to openly stare and wonder where these scars came from.
Long jagged things marring Megatron’s heavy muscles. The starburst shapes like burned flesh or bullet holes scattered across the warm planes of her belly. Hidden in the shadows along grooves of natural motion or worn down by time, only seen in the palest corners of Megatron’s body. she frowns thinking of it, of where Megatron was so hurt - why her knuckles are bone white with scar tissue compared to the rest of her skin. Why she watches strangers with the same intensity of her private guard, as if she's not the CEO but a lowly guard ready to brawl and battle - a feral dog on edge.
The broad chest inhales, loud noisy woman. Always interrupting Starscream’s thoughts and making it about her . Rude. Absolutely intolerable.
Starscream rests her chin to the side of Megatron’s head, watching the eyes move beneath clenched lids. Grinning stupid and young as she fails to ignore the blossoming heat in her chest. How long it’s been since watching another just sleep made her happy. Primus help her, she might just be domesticated after-all! her mother will surely roll in her grave.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad? A pretty house husband, kept spoiled and sated. Kissing Megatron’s cheek as she toils off to work and leaving Starscream to relax in whatever riches she can squeeze from the woman. she's sure at ther point it wouldn’t take much work...
The look on her face when Starscream stepped from the fighter jet - how her unexpected arrival was enough to have Starscream tripping over herself to run to her. Be the one she was addressing and let the rest of the world burn with their jealousy. Not that Starscream really knew what to do with all the power Megatron seemed ready to hand over without worry. Like she trusted her with her heart.
Starscream is terrified that Megatron loves her.
And more terrified of what will happen the moment Megatron realizes Starscream probably loves her too.
She reaches across to brush fallen locks of dark gray and sharp white from the woman’s brow. Looking fondly to Megatron’s face and --
“Ah!” Yelps when those eyes are open, watching her. Reaching for a pillow to smack Megatron in the face only to have a hard grip snatch her wrist. Stop her at the last second and, startled, she's no match for that strength. Snared and twisted until that massive body is dragging her on top, locking arms behind her back and trapping her there. The strange sensation of fingers trailing across her spine as if searching for something there. “Let go of me!”
“Don’t grunt at me you barbarian!” Snarls, tempted to bite Megatron’s lip which is in range as she feels the body shift, turning the world upside down as she's so easily manipulated and pinned beneath that weight. Air knocked from her lungs for a moment before the other adjusts. No longer crushing her, but not giving her room to slither out either. “Are you even awake?!”
There’s a softness to Megatron’s features which she's not certain she's familiar with. A heavy sigh as the woman brushes a bearded jaw across Starscream’s collar and her body responds with a low shudder. Betraying her outrage with interest - always ready to enjoy the coarse sensation across her bare skin (between her legs especially).
She wants to slap her, but also dig nails into her stupid smug face and drag her closer. Swallow her whole. Consume her in revenge for every waking moment Starscream now spends wondering if Megatron is her.
“What?” she sneers, the silence annoying - being watched without being prepared to give a show something she despises. Waiting for any reason Megatron was seemingly content not speaking! “Well?”
“Nothing at all, just a dream.” Megatron grins soft at the edges, moving to rest her weight back down on Starscream’s lean torso leaving her wiggling trying to fight back.
The touch of lips against her cheek jarring as Megatron purrs warm into her heart: “Settle down, Angel. ”