This was made with a local install of Reforge using the model Manticore: https://civitai.com/models/1208658/manticore-v-pred-traditional-artstyle-merge-noobillustrious .

I used Tail Tagger for tagging assistance: https://github.com/renfald/tail-tagger . Along with the JPT-3 model for AI generating tags: https://huggingface.co/RedRocket/JTP-3/tree/main/models?not-for-all-audiences=true

The dim lights of Aphelion’s cockpit cast a warm amber glow over the consoles, the hum of the engines a low, constant thrum that vibrated through the deck plates and into their bones. Ratchet and Rivet had just punched through another rift, the ship settling into autopilot in a quiet pocket of interdimensional space. Adrenaline still crackled in the air from the fight they’d shared—blasting Nefarious bots side by side, moving like mirror images of each other.

Rivet leaned back against the pilot’s seat, her white-and-blue-striped fur catching the light, tail flicking lazily. She rolled her shoulder, the sleek silver of her prosthetic arm glinting as she stretched. “You know, for a guy from a cushy dimension, you keep up pretty well,” she teased, voice low and smoky.

Ratchet grinned, ears twitching, his yellow fur ruffled from the battle. He stepped closer, the scent of ozone and hot metal still clinging to both of them, mixed with something warmer—her scent, wild and electric. “And for a resistance fighter who’s been kicking robot ass solo, you sync up pretty damn perfectly.” His green eyes roamed over her openly now, no more pretending. “Been thinking about that since Sargasso.”

Rivet’s light-blue eyes narrowed with playful challenge. She reached out with her flesh hand, fingers curling into the harness strap across his chest, tugging him closer until their muzzles were inches apart. “Yeah? Then stop thinking, Lombax.”

Their mouths crashed together—hot, hungry, a little clumsy at first with fangs and muzzles, then perfect. Tongues slid and tangled, tasting the faint sweetness of energy gel they’d shared earlier, the sharper bite of adrenaline. Ratchet groaned into her mouth, one paw sliding up her back, claws lightly raking through soft white fur. Rivet’s tail lashed, wrapping around his leg possessively.

She broke the kiss with a nip to his lower lip. “Cockpit’s too small. Your quarters. Now.”

They stumbled down the short corridor, shedding clothes as they went—her scarf, his gloves, belts clanking to the floor. By the time the door to Ratchet’s cabin hissed shut behind them, both were down to nothing but fur and heat.

Rivet’s gaze dropped immediately, pupils blowing wide. Ratchet’s cock was already hard and heavy, jutting up thick and proud from the golden fur of his groin—easily as long as her forearm, ridged faintly along the underside like Lombax biology demanded, flushed deep pink and glistening at the tip. Below it, his balls hung full and weighty, each one bigger than her fist, swaying slightly with his pulse.

“Holy bolts,” she breathed, voice husky. “You’ve been hiding that monster this whole time?”

Ratchet’s ears flicked back, a cocky grin spreading. “Jealous of my toolkit, Riv?”

She laughed, low and dirty, stepping in until her breasts pressed against his chest, nipples already peaked and brushing through their fur. “Let’s see if you know how to use it.”

He scooped her up effortlessly—strong mechanic’s arms—and deposited her on the bunk. The mattress dipped under their combined weight. Rivet spread her thighs without hesitation, revealing slick, swollen folds framed by soft white fur, already dripping with arousal. The scent of her filled the small cabin—musky, sweet, intoxicating.

Ratchet dropped to his knees between her legs, nosing along her inner thigh, inhaling deeply. “Fuck, you smell incredible.” His tongue dragged slow and deliberate up her slit, broad and hot, tasting her fully. Rivet gasped, back arching, prosthetic fingers digging into the sheets while her flesh hand buried in his head-fur, guiding him.

“Right there—oh stars, yes,” she moaned as he circled her clit, sucking gently, then harder. Every flick of his tongue sent sparks up her spine; the wet sounds of his mouth on her filled the room, mingling with her breathy whimpers and the distant engine hum.

He didn’t let her come yet. When she was trembling on the edge, thighs quivering around his ears, he pulled back, lips shiny with her. “Not yet. Want to feel you around me when you lose it.”

Rivet growled playfully, flipping them with surprising strength so she straddled him. Her prosthetic hand braced on his chest, cool metal a delicious contrast to the heat of his fur. She reached down with her other hand, wrapping fingers around his cock—barely able to close around the girth—and guided the fat head to her entrance.

They both groaned as she sank down, inch by thick inch. The stretch burned so perfectly, her walls fluttering around the impossible size of him. “So fucking big,” she hissed through clenched fangs, tail lashing. “Gonna ruin me for anyone else.”

Ratchet’s paws gripped her hips, claws pricking lightly. “That’s the plan,” he rumbled, voice rough.

She started slow, rolling her hips, savoring the drag of every ridge inside her. Each downward grind pressed the head of his cock against spots that made her vision spark. His balls rested heavy against her ass, warm and full, shifting with every motion.

“Faster,” he urged, thrusting up to meet her. The slap of fur on fur grew louder, wetter. Rivet obliged, riding him hard, breasts bouncing, head thrown back. Her prosthetic arm whirred softly as she braced harder, the vibration adding an unexpected buzz against his chest that made him groan.

“Look at you,” Ratchet panted, one paw sliding up to cup a breast, thumb circling her nipple. “Taking every inch like you were made for it.”

“Maybe I was,” she shot back breathlessly, clenching deliberately around him. He cursed, hips jerking.

The rhythm turned frantic. Sweat matted their fur; the cabin smelled of sex and ozone and them. Rivet’s moans climbed higher, broken and desperate. When the first orgasm hit her, it was sudden and devastating—she slammed down hard, grinding, crying out his name as her walls spasmed wildly around his cock, gushing slick heat that soaked his balls and thighs.

Ratchet didn’t stop. He flipped them again, pinning her beneath him, pounding deep and relentless. Each thrust slapped his heavy sac against her ass, the sound lewd and perfect. “One wasn’t enough,” he growled against her ear, nipping the edge. “Gonna give you another. Then another.”

Rivet could only whimper, oversensitive and loving it, legs wrapped tight around his waist. “Yes—fuck—don’t stop—”

He angled his hips, hitting that spot inside her over and over. The second climax built slower but deeper, coiling tight in her belly until it snapped. She screamed this time, claws raking down his back, whole body seizing as pleasure whited out everything else.

Ratchet followed her over the edge on the third—when she came again, clenching so hard he saw stars. He buried himself to the hilt, roaring her name, cock pulsing as he flooded her with thick, hot ropes of cum. His balls drew up tight, emptying in long, shuddering waves until it leaked out around his shaft, dripping onto the sheets.

They collapsed together, panting, fur damp and sticky. Rivet’s tail curled lazily around his, prosthetic fingers tracing idle circles through the fur on his chest.

“Stars above,” she murmured, voice hoarse and satisfied. “If all interdimensional teamwork feels like that, sign me up forever.”

Ratchet chuckled, pressing a kiss to her damp forehead. “Anytime, Riv. Anytime.”

The ship hummed on around them, carrying two very sated Lombaxes through the stars.