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[tinydefector]

Human's effects

More a silly little thing that I had to write out.

Warnings: talks about sex, xenophilia, kinks

Word count: 3k

Masterlist

Next

Human Effects 2 - characters

Request are open

____

There were a lot of things that fascinated the cybertronians over humans. Their size, body types, skin tones and those soft they are. 

So many of them become so fascinated over the fact that such small and fragile creatures don't have plating to protect themselves but only wear soft fabrics. 

And it slowly leads a lot of Cybertronians to realising they were Xenophiles. 

A list of kinks and fetishes cybertronians discovered from it. 

-size kink 

-skin fetish 

- hair pulling 

- silk and ribbon play

- cum inflation 

-breeding

-pet play

- vore

-fluid play and consumption 

- spiking warming

- Heart and spark syncing 

- new spike and Valve modifications to test on their human lover

There's originally a lot of unknowns about humans, and cybertronians are rather intrigued, for one the first times the a lot of the crew of lost light had encountered them was on black market and high priced pets, and companions. 

There were exceptions such as Perceptor, Ratchet and Megatron who had been around humans before but for a lot of the bots this was their first time seeing them. that is until they are assigned a human communications, relations Ambassador/ liaison. 

But after the black market incident it had led a lot of bots into research over humans. And it just spirals more with them discovering some rather dark history with cybertronians keeping humans as playthings. And finding out their ‘interface equipment’ isn't that different from their own, just more organic and smaller.  

A late night of drinking at swerve slowly devolved into conversation over their local human. Brainstorm sits nursing his drink of engex while he and others of the ship chat away. "So does it fascinate anyone else over the fact that humans don't have natural plating or any kind of protection for their squishy form?" He brings up, he himself had fallen down the rabbit hole of human porn but didn't quite know how to breach the subject with anyone else. 

"Oh Primus, look who decided to join us, thought you were holding up with your Conjunx Chrome!" Swerve said with a chuckle, placing more drinks down. He hopped up onto one of the bar stools and leaned in eagerly, His attention flicks to Brainstorm. "You bring up a good point, Brainstorm," Swerve replied.

 "Those squishy humans are really something else, ain't they? No armour, no defences - I'd be scared outta my circuits if I was just soft protoform all the time!, like i’m so surprised squishy hasn't been stepped on yet" 

Rodimus nodded in agreement. "Yet they've managed to survive just fine so far. There's obviously more to them than meets the eye. Like i've seen some of the things our ambassador can do like the strange stretching"

"I dunno," Skids chimed in. "Seems pretty fraggin' reckless if you ask me. One good shot and it lights out!" 

Rewind shuddered. "Ugh, don't remind me. Just thinking about all those organics and tubes and who knows what else squishing around in there makes my fuel tank turn." He made a dramatic churning sound effect.

Riptide laughed. "I saw a nature documentary once about these hairless ape creatures the humans evolved from. Now THOSE guys were squishy."

“What in Primus have you been watching?!” 

“some old earth docs that Percy’s has, bots got a lot of info on Terra and the planet's history” The bots shared a collective laugh at the image. Swerve took a swig of his energon. "Frag, maybe there's something to be said about living on the edge like that! Sure keeps things interesting, its still strange that they are somehow one of the top predators of their planet yet are smaller than half the things they eat"

Brainstorm goes quiet for a moment. "Have you seen how flexible they are?"

Swerve nearly spit out his energon. "Whoa hey, I don't need those kinds of vivid imagery floatin' around my processor thank you very much!, keep the squishy interface vids to yourself" he said, waving his hands animatedly. 

"You have to admit, the way those fleshbags can contort themselves is pretty impressive," Skids added. "Must come in handy for.. maintenance." He waggled his optical ridges suggestively.

Brainstorm nodded pensively. "Indeed. Their non-metal structure allows for feats we could never replicate by ourselves." He took a sip of his energon. "Always makes me curious what other evolutionary adaptations they've developed to compensate for such vulnerability. The potential for scientific discovery is endlessly fascinating with their species and ancestors."

Riptide shrugged. "As long as they don't expect ME to try any of their bone-breaking yoga moves," he laughed. "This chassis is meant for tough stuff, not Twister!"

"You think they would be soft, you know if you interface with one?" Brainstorm asked while downing his drink, the engex was slowly going to his processor loosening his lips. 

"Oh don't give me that look I know for a fact you all have thought about doing with a human at least once! Rodimus I know for a fact you eye them up everytime our little liaison walks past you" He calls out Rodimus. 

Rodimus nearly choked on his energon in an attempt to look innocent. "Wh-what? That's not - I never -" he sputtered in protest, flustered optics darting around at the other bots.

Brainstorm smirked as Rodimus squirmed uncomfortably on the stool. "Oh please, don't try to deny it, Captain. You're about as subtle as a combiner in a supply closet." 

"Roddy's got the hots for squishy, who knew!" Swerve giggled uncontrollably. 

Skids nudged Riptide playfully. "Hey, maybe we got a xenophiliac on the ship!" 

"Alright alright, knock it off you glitches," Rodimus growled, though the blue flush across his face said otherwise. "I was just... curious, that's all. They ARE a strange species."

Swerve tried to contain his laughter. "Ohhh I bet you are more than curious, if you catch my drift!, wanna get up close and personal" More raucous peals of laughter from the group.

Brainstorm stroked his chin in thought. "They do feel intriguingly delicate. I wonder if their flexible frames would be more pleasurable to interface with than our own rigid forms..."

"Have you seen videos of them, they stretch a lot, like a lot, like I know human skin is resilient but i didn't think they were that resilient " Brainstorm states remembering some of the videos he had seen online. Other bots peak up intrigued. 

Swerve choked again as his fuel tank nearly turned inside out. "Brainstorm! That's... more than I needed to visualise, thank you very much." 

Skids seemed a bit less phased. "Fleshbags gettin' their twist on, huh? Can't say I'm not curious now." 

Even Rodimus seemed intrigued despite his earlier protests. "Resilient is an   understatement. I've seen some of the contortions that humans can do - it's astounding that their protoforms don't tear apart." 

Brainstorm nodded enthusiastically. "Precisely! With the right lubrication and technique, I hypothesise an interface with a limber human form would provide entirely novel sensory data."

Riptide shifted uncomfortably. "Not sure I'm ready to dive into the fleshy deep end just yet.”  

Swerve shot him a sly grin. "Aw c'mon Rip, live a little! Where's your sense of adventure?" 

Rodimus tried to steer the subject elsewhere. "Let's maybe change topics before someone needs a wipe down. Or Primus forbid, Magnus overhears you lot"

"I hope I did not hear what my processor just heard" Ultra Magnus states while staring down at the group of drinking mechs. A Lot of bots in the bar snicker at the group getting in trouble. 

"Come on Sir, get that wrench out of you aft, join us!" Skids called out.

Swerve let out an audible squeak at Ultra Magnus's stern tone, almost dropping his engex in panic. "U-Um, Magnus sir! Fancy seeing you here. We were just, uh, discussing..." 

He shot desperate optics at the others for help, but they all seemed to shrink down in their seats under Magnus's disapproving glare. 

Rodimus flashed an uneasy grin. "Just having a friendly debate about alien species, you know how it is. Brainstorm was bringing up some, er, interesting biological points..." 

Ultra Magnus sighed wearily. "I'd rather not know the details, thank you. Some topics are best left undiscussed in public."

The whole bar erupted into laughter at the group's misfortune. "Ah lay off em Magnus!" one patron called out. "They're just havin' fun!"

Another bot piped up. "Yeah, loosen up that rusty chassis and join us! One drink won't hurt." 

Magnus scowled, unamused. But as the encouragement grew louder, he glanced around hesitantly...

Swerve spotted an opening. "C'mon Magnus, live a little! I'll even give you a two-for-one special." He flashed a hopeful grin.

The enforcer grumbled but his resolve was cracking. Against his better judgement, he pulled up a stool. "One drink." Swerve whooped and poured him a double.

They cheer as Magnus sits down to drink with them. Skids speak up. "So brainstorm you saying you'd hook up with a fleshy, get nice and personal with a human" he calls out with a laugh.

Brainstorm leaned forward eagerly. "Why of course! The pursuit of scientific knowledge knows no boundaries. Though upon further review, direct interfacing with an organic might require certain, ah, safety protocols." 

Skids peered at him suspiciously. "Exactly what kind of 'research' are you plannin' on doing Brainy?"

Swerve nudged Riptide with a smirk. "I'll bet ya 20 shanix Brainstorm's just trying to find an excuse to get jiggy with the humies!"

Riptide snorted. "No way, I ain't takin' THAT bet!" 

Rodimus dropped his face in his palms with a groan. "can we PLEASE stop picturing Brainstorm fragging humans?" 

Ultra Magnus coughed on his engex, catching the comment he'd really rather not have heard. 

But Brainstorm paid them no mind, lost in scientific contemplation. "The human capacity for sensory input and feedback would provide a rich study on cross-species interface protocol adaptability..."

"INTERFACE PROTOCOLS?!" Swerve shrieked. The table erupted into howls of laughter at Magnus's deeply uncomfortable expression. It was going to be a LONG night indeed.

“Primus Brainstorm you kinky fragger” 

"Fine then everyone servo up if your not at least somewhat curious or thought about it at least once" Brainstorm calls out to all of Swerve's bars patrons

"Oooh, Brainstorm's putting us all on the spot!" Swerve giggled with gleeful mischief. He raised his servo without hesitation. 

Skids was quick to follow suit, slamming his half-empty glass down. "Frag it, I'll admit it! Those soft squishy bodies got me wonderin' what else they're good for." 

To everyone's surprise, Rodimus sheepishly lifted a servo as well, avoiding optic contact with Ultra Magnus. Riptide shrugged and joined in the show of servos, if only to blend in. 

The majority of bots in the bar started raising their hands amid roars of laughter and drunken encouragement. Only a select few hesitated, shooting nervous glances at Magnus. 

The enforcement officer's expression cycled through outrage, resignation and back to outrage as his gaze swept over the forest of raised servos. "I cannot condone such deviant interest in alien biologies," he protested, voice stiff. 

But as more servos stayed stubbornly aloft, Magnus sagged with a weary sigh. After a long moment, he slowly, begrudgingly raised one massive hand as well. 

The bar erupted into ear-splitting cheers. Swerve howled with glee, banging his fists on the counter. "Look's like we've all got a bit of xenophile in us after all! Even you, Magnus my mech!" 

Magnus buried his faceplate in his servos as Brainstorm cackled maniacally. Once the bar settles back down its Swerve who speaks up with a smirk on his faceplate. "So... which one of you charming mechs are gonna be the first to try and get our lovely Liaison?" He teases. 

Rodimus sputtered into his drink at Swerve's question, flushing brighter. "W-what? I never said anything about actually doing anything!, it's all just fantasies Swerve!" he protested in a hissed tone. 

Skids rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm, well they do have a cute lil' figure. Bet they'd be a wild ride..." 

Swerve grinned slyly at Rodimus. "Aw c'mon Captain, don't tell me you ain't thought about it at least once! I bet they'd be real fun to break in, get all soft and pliable..." 

Rodimus smacked Swerve upside the helm. "Knock it off!" He shot a pleading glance at Ultra Magnus as if begging for rescue.

But unexpectedly, Brainstorm was the one who spoke up. "While the organic's flexibility is intriguing, directly interfacing could introduce unknown health risks or cultural taboos. Outside the fact our people have kept humans as pets and companions in the past. A more ethical approach would be gaining consent for strictly observational research."  

Riptide frowned. "Not sure the liaison would go for that either Storm" 

Swerve sighed dreamily. "Just imagine wrapping those soft squishy bits all around you though... bet they'd feel amazing..."  

"SWERVE." Magnus's warning tone silenced the cheeky bartender immediately. He turned back to Rodimus with a sigh. "Despite certain... Curiosities, directly engaging an organics  such a manner would be unwise, dangerous even, not to mention our form are much larger and could harm a human."

Rewind nodded gratefully at Magnus, relieved the subject was shifting. But the mischievous glint in Swerve's optic suggested his teasing wasn't over yet. It was going to be a long night indeed.

"Relax Mags I'm just riling these drunk mech up. Unless you're interested in our sweet little ambassador" he teases, making other bots choke on their drinks. 

Ultra Magnus's icy glare could have frozen Swerve's energon. "Need I remind you this conversation is highly inappropriate and unprofessional," he said sternly. 

But to everyone's surprise, Rodimus let out an undignified snort of laughter. "As if Magnus would ever break protocol like that! He'd probably recite the entire Autobot code of conduct while fragging."

The whole bar erupted in howls of mirth at the mental image. 

Swerve was nearly rolling on the floor. "Can you imagine?! 'Paragraph 3, subsection B clearly states interfacing with sentient aliens requires prior diplomatic clearance forms in triplicate!'" he cried in a mockingly stiff voice. 

Skids were wiping away fuel tears. "Primus if MR. RULES AND REGS ever broke the rules, it'd be one for the history archives!" 

Riptide jabbed Skids in the side. "Ten shanix says he'd have them memorising regulations the whole time!" 

"Twenty shanix says they'd run screaming first!" Swerve shot back. 

The bets and ribbing escalated as more mechs joined in. Across the table, Rodimus shoved Magnus playfully. "C'mon Magnus, live on the wild side for once!" 

Magnus's rumbling huff was the only response. Watching his rigid commander finally loosening up filled Swerve with delight. Somehow, some way, he'd find a way to get Magnus to break protocol yet! It was shaping up to be the best night ever.

"Ohhh let's make this fun. I list some bots and you say if you think they would hook up with a human" Riptide states. "Rung, Drift and Ratchet" he calls out the names.

Swerve let out a dramatic gasp. "Ooh spicy!"

"Rung is definitely curious but way too professional. Might let loose over a couple cubes of engex though!" 

Skids broke into hysterics at Riptide's suggestions. "Rung and a HUMAN?! Rung doesn't even touch his OWN interface panel!" 

Rodimus snorted. "Can you imagine? 'My dear, it seems you're experiencing some psychological interfacing blockers. Please, tell me how that makes you feel.'" 

"Drift guy's definitely intrigued by other species, if you know what I mean. Plus he's artsy so he'd probably appreciate the 'aesthetic'." Swerve responds

"Drift might go for it, he's open to new experiences," Rodimus mused with a grin. 

Brainstorm nodded thoughtfully. "Indeed, his spiritual philosophies suggest an openness to cultural exchange that others may lack. I think if he and ratchet weren't together its something he might try" 

"Ratchet. bah! As if that grumpy old rust-bucket would try anything so illogical. Unless she's a doctor too and starts quoting his favourite protocols... then all bets are off!" Skids laughed. 

"Ratchet? Nah, too much of a hard aft. He'd just bitch about human biohazards the whole time," Swerve giggled. 

"Well if Drift was interested I'm pretty sure that mecn could get ratchet to do anything with the bat of his optics" Rodimus remarks.

The table erupted in raucous laughter. Swerve took a playful bow. "Alright bring on the next victims!" 

Riptide rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm, how about...Tailgate, Cyclonus, and Whirl?" 

Swerve cackled wickedly. "Tailgate would be way too nervous but he'd try for his Conjunx Cyclonus. Cyclonus would 100% use his broody vibes to charm her pants off but only for Tailgate. And Whirl? He doesn't interface, he destroys! So that liaison better watch her interfacing ports around that lunatic!" 

Chromedome interjects stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Tailgate would be way too nervous and shy, I think. He'd probably short-circuit just from holding hands!" 

Riptide nodded. "Cyclonus has always struck me as the kinky type. Wonder if he's into those squishy bits like Brainstorm thinks..."

"Whirl would frag anything that moves," Rodimus interjected with a grimace. "But I don't think an organic would survive the experience!"

Brainstorm stroked his chin. "Indeed, Whirl's interfacing protocol subroutines seem rather...enthusiastic. Consent might be a fleeting concept. Better to observe from a safe distance." 

Swerve shuddered. "Ugh, don't make me picture that psycho getting 'friendly' with a human! I'm tryna keep my fuel down y'know." 

The names continue being dropped. 

 " First Aid! I don't know if the medic-bot's got it in him to break the rules. But I betcha if he did, he'd be real gentle and caring-like. He'd have them feelin' better than new in no time!" 

Skids grinned devilishly. "Yeah but would they feel better? Aid's so straight and narrow I bet he'd put em in stasis lock from boredom!" 

"Now Perceptor on the other hand..." Swerve tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Bookish type, but you know there's a passionate scientist in there waiting to experiment. Think he'd go slow and methodical, really take his time 'exploring the specimen'." 

"his thirst for organic sciences might overpower his good sense," Rewind remarks. 

“optimus prime, Prowl and bumblebee ” Chromedome interjects with his own inquiries. 

Swerve pretended to wipe away exhaust fumes. "Primus help me, this is gonna be good... Optimus Prime is obviously Mister Morality himself, but you know he's got a secret wild side under all that virtue signalling. Just imagine how freaky he could get with some alien nookie!" 

The bar erupted in incredulous, drunken laughter and cheers. Swerve grinned impishly. 

"As for Prowl, I'm telling you that stick up his tailpipe is begging to come out and play. One roll in the berth with a naughty fleshy and he'd loosen up reeeal nice!" 

"And Bee? He's a sweet kid, but you know what they say, it's always the quiet ones! Between his cute lil' face and that tight chassis, he'd have the human lining up to frag that glitch right into stasis!" 

The bar absolutely lost it, bots falling over each other in drunken hysterics. Even Mirage was struggling not to fall off his chair. Swerve took an exaggerated bow as his audience howled. 

"Thank you, thank you! I'll be here all cycle! Now who's ready for the next round?" More shouts and clanking glasses answered his call. It was shaping up to be the wildest night at Swerve's yet!

 Magnus dropping Megatron's name that really sent them over the edge.

"Megatron?! With the liaison?!" Rodimus howled with laughter, nearly spitting out his drink. "That's the funniest thing I've heard all cycle!" 

But Swerve wasn't done. "Megatron? Now THAT'S an image! 'You pathetic fleshbag, you DARE try to mount the great Megatron?! Grovel before my interface array!'" 

Magnus adds more information which makes everyone surprised " He and the ambassador are rather close" He states

Rewind speaks up from Chromedome’s side. "Y'know... they do have a certain chemistry. I'll bet under all that scowling and chipped armour there's a softie just waitin' for the right tender touch to melt his spark. And they have got sass to spare  bet they could handle Megatron's brooding and snarl!" 

"Twenty shanix says he'd have them trembling and beggin' for mercy in no time flat!" Skids bet eagerly. 

"You're on!" crowed Riptide. "But I still think Perceptor's the real dark horse..."

[tom-foolery-incorporated]

Free Use Human

Lost Light Crew x reader, AFAB gender neutral reader, racially ambiguous, cumdump, stuck in a hole

“Brainstorm?” You called into the empty room hoping the scientist would hear you. You placed your palms flat against the wall behind you as you gave a push to try to dislodge yourself. Your legs dangled uselessly on the other side of the wall with your rear propped up right in the air.

You looked down at the floor maybe 6 feet below you where the teleportation device Brainstorm had made for you dropped. You pushed once again this time kicking your legs to get some kind of momentum but to no avail.

“Brainstorm!” You called louder hoping the scientist would rescue you before anyone found you like this.

“Woah!”

You heard a familiar voice behind you.

“Swerve!” You kicked your feet trying to wiggle out of the wall. “Thank God you’re here! Can you find Brainstorm and tell him where I am? Something went wrong with the teleportation device and-“ You yelped feeling a servo run across your rear. “Swerve!”

“You’re really stuck in there, huh?” He sounded way too pleased. “Like you can’t do anything?” You huffed shaking your head before realizing Swerve couldn’t see you on the other side of the wall. “No, I’m stuck. Can you please get-HEY!” You jerked feeling Swerve fondle your clothed ass. Swerve only laughed a little before giving a taut swipe to your rear.

“Oh man, I know who’d love this!” Swerve laughed rubbing his servo down your thigh. You whined wiggling your hips. “Brainstorm would because he’d want to know-OH!” Once again you were cut off when Swerve dragged his thick digit over your clothed folds.

“You look good like this,” Swerve laughed. He continued rubbing your clothed pussy making you whine and clench your thighs. “I just messaged Rodimus over the comlink,” Swerve said now groping your ass with both of his servos. “Think I can bust one out before he gets here?” He sounded so giddy having you defenseless like this. You only perked your rear up and wiggled your hips for him.

Swerve grabbed onto the waistband of your pants pulling the fabric down over your shoes and discarding the fabric to the floor. The wafting cold air of the ship brought goosebumps to your skin. You squeaked feeling Swerve bring another sharp smack to your ass. “You’re already so wet!” Swerve said excitedly. “Here I was gonna try eating you out to get you prepped but maybe-“ “Swerve, please!” You begged spreading your legs wider. Swerve chuckled before kneeling down in front of your glistening folds and shoving his face into your pussy. He devoured your slick cunt like a man starved. His dermas moving around your clit as his glossa dipped between them to slurp up whatever juices you produced.

“Fuck!” You whined clenching your fist against the wall. You squeezed your eyes shut focusing on the feeling of having Swerve’s face plate buried between your thighs. “Fucking delicious,” Swerve mumbled against your folds. The vibrations of his vocalizer going straight to your clit. “Swerve,” you moaned out trying to push your hips back into his face plate. His large servos wrapped around your hips keeping you still while he continued feasting on your sopping heat.

Swerve pulled away but not before giving your clit a loud obnoxious kiss. “Oh man look at your valve,”Swerve said prodding at your hole with one of his digits. “You’re clenching around nothing here!” Swerve jammed his finger into your pulsing hole feeling around the wet cavern of your vagina.

“Swerve, please!” You called your voice muffled by the wall. Swerve added another digit pushing his metal fingers in and out of your hole. “Think you’re ready for me?” Swerve was practically panting in excitement. How long has he been lusting after the ship’s little human and now he finally has a chance to feel their sweet organic valve around his throbbing spike.

You spread your legs in response trying to make as much room for the minibot as you could. You could hear him shuffling to his feet on the other side of the wall before there was a hiss in the air as Swerve released his modesty panel. His spike sprung to life slapping down atop your ass. The hot metal was a welcome change against your cold skin.

“Primus I can’t believe this is real,” Swerve muttered to himself. He held your hips with his servos, their size basically engulfing you, as he tilted his pelvis back to line his spike up with your hole. Swerve muttered praises as he rubbed his dripping spike against your cunt before pushing in.

“Holy shit!” You heard Rodimus’ voice coming down the hallway. “They really are stuck!”

Swerve gave you a sharp thrust before responding to his captain. “Yeah! They’re super tight too,” he panted trying to find a rhythm with his thrusts. “No way!” Your whole body stiffened when you heard Whirl. “Free use human?”

“Are we all getting a turn with them?” Tailgate’s enthusiasm made you clench around Swerve. The minibot groaned as he set a rough pace slapping his hips into your rear. Your moans bounced with your body as the bartender took what he wanted from your cunt. “Overload in them!” You heard Nautica cheer. You whined squeezing your eyes shut at the feeling of being watched in such a vulnerable position. Swerve’s hips stuttered as he released a flood of transfluid deep into your cunt.

“Okay,” you heard Rodimus start. “As the captain I get dibs after Swerve. From there we can form a line.”

You heard Whirl complain a little but was hushed by Cyclonus. “Actually I think I should get next because my device put them in this position!” Brainstorm called out.

“Is their intake up for grabs?” You heard Rewind ask.

“I don’t see why not,” Rodimus answered. “Why? You and Chromedome going to spear them?” Rodimus laughed at his own comment as your whole body heated up at the idea.

You felt Swerve slowly slide his spike out of you. His transfluid leaked down your pussy and onto your thigh. “Look at that,” you heard Drift say marveling at how Swerve’s overload slunk out of your hole.

“Okay my turn now!” You heard Rodimus call coupled with the sounds of him pushing other bots out of the way.

Ultra Magnus rarely walked this way around the ship but he felt the need to check why he had seen so many bots take this corridor. He hoped that his suspicions of something devious being at play was only a hunch. His thundering footsteps came down the hallway turning around a corner until he came to a full and abrupt stop.

Your rear end stood out of the wall with your legs dangling uselessly. both of your holes leaking transfluid with a puddle of the pink glowing substance laid underneath you. He could hardly believe his optics. Not only did this display break multiple public indecency laws but also violated almost every health code Ultra Magnus could recollect.

You moved your leg a little, bending your knee to keep the limb from falling asleep, and the movement caused a thick glob of transfluid to push out of your pussy and drip into the puddle beneath you. Ultra Magnus covered his mouth as his face flushed blue with energon.

“Human?” His deep voice called.

You giggled in return stretching out your legs causing more transfluid to seep from your pussy and ass. “Ultra Magnus!” You called cheerfully from the other side of the wall. You sounded delirious as if you had been fucked stupid. “Did you want a turn?” You spread your legs pressing the tips of your shoes against the wall so Ultra Magnus could see your sloppy holes.

In all honesty, he did want a turn.

[lalunanymph]

୨୧ zayne's unusual method of coercing lulling your baby back to sleep

✧･ﾟpapa!zayne, husband!zayne, mom!reader, talks of medical research, babies, you both have a little girl named 'jasmine' (iykyk), mild spoilers for lads if you squint, pure fluff, spoilers for the good night video call with zayne, he calls you 'my aurora' (also iykyk)

✧･ﾟhelp me plz i have fallen for this man and i cant get up

night falls, bringing with it a peace no wish in the world could.

it's the type of peace which echoes gentle snowfall during the dawn; a hum of wintry wind on the back of weak sunlight.

for now, the household is quiet, everyone catching up on precious minutes of sleep.

or, as much as they could before your daughter's piercing wail shatters through the night.

"i'll go get her," the fatigue roughened voice of your husband, zayne, reassures you. his large palm reaches across the bed, clasping your own for a single second, a silent order for you to go back to sleep.

"zayne," you murmur, rubbing your eyes. "i'll go with you—"

"you need rest," he cuts you off, though the look in his emerald gaze is eclipsed with a special softness reserved just for you. "i don't have any surgeries lined up tomorrow until after lunch. i'll do it."

stoic yet kind, your husband volunteers to take up the mantle; hurrying towards the nursery to tend to your fussy baby.

you sink back into the soft sheets, exhaling in exhaustion. it must've been hours or minutes, your consciousness dipping in and out of the pool of wakefulness.

when you turn to the side, zayne still wasn't back. curiosity propelled you to sit up, stuffing your feet into a pair of blue, fuzzy slippers. you tightened your robe around your shivering body, shuffling down the hall towards the nursery.

"... common treatment is a myectomy of the hypertrophic IVS. however, surgical treatment of midventricular is usually challenging. the hypertrophic area cannot be reached via a transaortic approach. for that reason, a transapical ventriculostomy has been described as preferred access for surgical correction..."

zayne's voice piques your interest. as you turn around the corner, you nearly burst out into a fit of giggles.

your husband, baby in one arm and large research book on his knee, was trying to read a "bedtime" story to your sweet jasmine.

"—in some cases of diffuse myectomy has been performed via trans-mitral septal myectomy with a video-assisted minimal invasive 2D technique—oh, look, it's your mama."

he moves your little girl to the other arm, her shimmering emerald eyes clasped on the hook of his nose. she bubbles and squeals, trying to swipe at his chin—definitely not drowsy or ready to fall back to sleep.

"come on now," zayne remains stern with her. "it's time for you to sleep. you've been keeping me up for almost an hour."

as much as your husband's antics were drawing your mirth, you could sense the despair in his tone wasn't fabricated.

"perhaps you're reading her the wrong bedtime story." you tease, walking into the room. you take jasmine from her papa's arms, cradling her close to your chest.

your daughter fusses, gummy mouth gaping and closing, cooing her agreement.

"the resection of hypertrophic papillary muscles and mitral valve replacement is a good bedtime story," he quips. snapping the heavy research book close, he sets it down to the floor. "she's just being like her mama, that's all."

fighting back the urge to smirk, you shake your head. "at least you've never given her a lecture on fusion guidance."

his brow crinkles, and eventually, a small smile decorates his lips. "you remember?"

zayne's voice is unexpectedly soft, and you nod; delighting in sharing this memory with your husband.

"how could i forget? it's my go-to bedtime request from you."

he stands, coming behind you and jasmine. a long, calloused finger traces down her chubby cheek. one arm around your waist, the other supporting your own arm under your baby.

"if only i could know what hers is," zayne sighs. "then, you wouldn't have to check up on us."

"i want to," you interject, nudging your face back to give his cheek a soft kiss. "i love seeing you with her."

"hmm."

your husband goes quiet for a few more moments. you almost fall asleep standing up, the warmth of his broad back emanating through your thin cotton nightdress; lulling you into comfort. jasmine, soothed by your steady breathing, droops off; her shell pink lips puckered like a bud about to bloom.

"she's finally asleep."

"your heartbeat," zayne says, barely above a whisper. his warm breath touches your neck, making gooseflesh rise on your arms. "she's soothed by it."

you touch your gaze to her puffy cheeks; the thin wisps of dark hair on her head she inherited from the one man you adored with every beat of your heart.

"i'm glad you saved me," you whisper, remembering the day when zayne performed the life-changing operation on you; finally stabilising your condition after years of distress and anxiety.

"i owe my heart to you."

"keep it," your husband is quick to dismiss his role in saving you; a man of little words with the biggest impact.

"but, take mine if you need it. my heart is all yours, my aurora."

sobs iykyk the spoilers for mr. love: queen's choice (lads predecessor) you'd know that zayne's hea—[gunshot]

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or claim as your own.

[roxiewyatthb]

Exam Room Performance

Synopsis: Fantasy Hospital. Doctors and Nurses are in silk robes and examine your heart in unique ways. Speaker stethoscopes, big screen ultrasounds, and plenty of exercise. As requested by @aheartsbeat wc: 1.2k cw: none

The room is cold and bleak, typical for an examination room. However, this was far from your typical examination room. This one was special. Different.

Each doctor and nurse wore luxurious silk robes with nothing underneath -- hard nipples and obvious bulges were not so hidden under the thin fabric.

And you. You also wore one of these robes. It was your favorite color and much different from your average, cheap hospital gown.

The room while it lacked in color and decoration, made up for it with the most interesting instruments you've ever seen; a giant screen that took up nearly an entire wall and stethoscopes with unusual bells.

Bells that looked like mini speakers.

On the other side of the room was a single stationary bike and treadmill. Would you be using those too?

"Please, lay down." One of the doctors spoke up in a soft tone, gesturing at the bed behind you.

Even the bed was different. Instead of those horrendous, rock-solid "beds" in normal hospitals, this one looked much softer -- comfortable.

And you were correct.

This bed rivaled the one you had at home. Soft and comfortable. You could easily fall asleep on this.

But a sleep study was not on the agenda for today.

Today you were going to be put through several cardiology examinations.

This small reminder caused your heart to pick up speed.

Looking back at the screen and stethoscopes on the wall, you pondered what they could possibly do with those. Soon, your questions will be answered.

With you now lying on the bed, several doctors and nurses got to work.

Some grabbed stethoscopes from the wall, two others grabbed what you assumed were ultrasound wands, while one started to set up the screen on the wall.

You gulped nervously and tried to focus on your breathing but your chest moved with each pounding beat of your chest -- giving away your excitement to the room.

The nurses with the stethoscopes gathered around one side of your bed while the doctors with the wands gathered on the other side. The one by the screen stood over by it.

Without warning, one of the doctors untied the knot on your robe, opening it up and exposing your chest to the room.

A few beats after that, cold gel was applied to your skin right over your heart and the two doctors with the wands placed them down on your chest.

In an instant, you saw your heart pounding on the giant screen on the wall.

It showed two different views. You're unsure which ones you're seeing, but you can't deny it was mesmerizing.

Watching your valves snap open and closed. Pounding harder at the scene but still staying strong and steady.

"Look at your heart," The doctor by the screen said while lifting their arm as if presenting it. "It's working hard...it's truly something, isn't it?"

Before you could think of a response to the question you felt several cold objects against your body -- the nurses holding the stethoscopes -- and quickly the room filled with the sound of your heart beating in sync with the ultrasound on the screen.

Bu-dum Bu-dum Bu-dum Bu-dum Bu-dum

Loud and fast.

You wondered how fast it was going until you realized the numbers in the far corner of the screen.

"128 BPM".

And steadily climbing.

You notice it get to around the 140s before the doctor at the front of the room once again speaks up.

"Okay, now I'm going to ask you to work your pump out for a bit." They paused for a second, "10 minutes on both the treadmill and bike at the highest intensity setting should be good enough."

And with that, the nurses and other doctors removed themselves from you, allowing you to get off of the bed and onto the stationary bike to start.

Once you were settled there, two nurses and one doctor put their instruments back on your chest, your heart on display and beats filling the room once more.

You started to pedal and quickly your heart rate picked up.

"That's good, just like that." The doctor praised you while watching your valves snap violently.

140...145...149...153...

Your heart was now racing.

Bu-dum Bu-dum Bu-dum Bu-dum Bu-dum

Your breathing picked up, lungs trying to provide enough oxygen for your hard-working heart.

Finally, you reached mid 170s while on the bike and the doctor let you take a short break to catch your breath.

You felt your heart move the hands of the nurses and doctor up and down with each beat, hearing the chaos through the speaker stethoscopes. Watching the screen along with everyone else.

Your heart still beat strong and unwavering.

Only about 30 seconds passed before you were asked to move to the treadmill, wobbling your way over.

Two different nurses and the other ultrasound doctor now joined your side, waiting for you to adjust the intensity of the treadmill, then they placed their instruments on your chest just like the previous ones.

Just like the other times, your heart presented itself on the screen. Your heart rate lowered a bit, now at the low 130s.

But that would quickly change.

The belt started to move and you got to work, along with your heart.

As if it knew the deal already, your heart rate skyrocketed fast, reaching high 180s within 2 minutes.

BU-DUM BU-DUM BU-DUM BU-DUM BU-DUM

"You can do better than that." You swore you heard that one doctor say something again but you weren't sure. It could've been your own mind saying that this time.

No matter, you still pushed yourself.

You picked up your pace on the treadmill, breathing even heavier now, heart pounding and racing harder and faster as everyone in the room listened and watched intently.

Your valves were moving at such speeds that they seemed to not be moving at some points.

186...190...194...199...

BU-DUM BU-DUM BU-DUM BU-DUM BU-DUM

You felt as if your heart was going to pound out of your chest by now. Your pulse roaring and bouncing off the walls, throbbing against your neck -- you even felt it in the rest of your body.

200

You let out a sigh of relief as you were asked to stop the machine. Slowing down until it came to a complete stop.

Without removing the wand and stethoscopes from your chest, the nurses helped guide you back to the bed where you laid down again and tried to catch your breath.

Your heart still felt like it was going a mile a minute. Throbbing almost painfully against your chest. Now with this new angle, you were able to see it visibly shake your entire body, taking the hands of the nurses and doctor with it.

You turn your head to view the screen, watching as your heart slows but still continues to thump with purpose, now within the 150s range.

"Good job. We'll just keep you here, listening and watching your heart until it reaches approximately 60 to 70 beats per minute." The doctor that stood by the screen said with a smile.

At this rate, you'll be in this room with your heart on display all day.

Not that you were complaining.

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

1930 Ford Highboy Coupe

There’s always lots of detail work with any build and this ’30 Ford highboy coupe is no exception. Look closely and you will find Craftworks Fabrication handmade steel motor mounts. The license plate and valve covers were painted by Jeremy Seanor of Luckystrike Designs. He also painted all the accompanying engine and tranny parts. The powdercoat was handled by Pittsburgh Powder Coat while the chrome plating was conducted by Jon Wright’s Custom Chrome Plating.

The chassis is comprised of a Roadster Shop custom frame that was stepped, stretched, and features contoured ’32 Ford-style framerails. It was also then boxed, capped, and has hole punch flared front framehorns. From here the frame is outfitted with a Super Bell 4-inch drop, drilled and plated I-beam axle, low-profile monoleaf spring with Ridetech tubular shocks paired to custom-made drilled billet radius rods from Johnson’s Hot Rod Shop. Steering falls to the Flaming River box and a LimeWorks Hot Rod column topped with a four-spoke Billet Specialties Sprint Car–style leather-wrapped wheel. In back there’s a Currie 9-inch rearend outfitted with 3.70 gears, 31-spline axles, QA1 coilovers, a Pete & Jakes Panhard bar, and a parallel four-link setup. Braking is a combination of disc/drum front to rear. The forward braking dark gray–painted Wilwood Dynalite calipers are neatly hidden behind the Pete & Jakes finned backing plates. While in back the 9-inch is outfitted with 11-inch brakes, this time hidden beneath the SO-CAL Speed Shop finned drums all the while the chassis rides on a full set of 16-inch Dayton wire wheels wrapped with Coker/Excelsior rubber measuring 5.50R16 in front and 7.00R18 in the back.

All hot rods have something fun settled between the ’rails and beneath the hood (well if they have a hood). In the case of our ’30 Ford highboy coupe it sure appears to be a vintage Ford Y-block but after more than a cursory look we begin to see the telltale signs that there’s something more. Indeed, while it may look like a Ford it truly is a 376-inch LSX iron block, with aluminum heads and ARP studs, plus adapter-equipped small-block Ford (Windsor) valve covers all from Don Hardy Race Cars and then assembled by Talik and Marc Mullin. The intake is an Edelbrock LS dual quad with a pair of Thunder AVS EnduraShine carbs dressed in OTB air cleaners. Delivering the gas from the Tanks stainless reservoir is an Earl’s Performance billet fuel pump. More engine accessories include an MSD 6AL box to go along with the MSD billet Ford small-block distributor that functions through a timing cover adapter from Chevrolet Performance all the while using an MSD coil and Lokar vintage plug wires. Powermaster also supplied the alternator and starter, the battery is an XS Power AGM, and a Wegner Motorsports water pump is used as well as a Wegner front accessory drive unit. This 500-plus hp V-8 utilizes custom headers made at Craftworks Fabrication based on Ultimate Headers LS header flanges. The pseudo-Ford small-block is backed up to a TCI StreetFighter 700-R4 with a 2,800-stall speed converter operated by a Lokar shifter. The trans cooler comes by way of Derale Performance and moves the power through a 3-inch-diameter custom-made driveshaft.

[throneofsmut]

Just Breathe

Poly! Manorian x Reader || WC: 1.9k || Warnings: Smut

Summary: Things get heated between Manon and reader and Dorian joins. Based off this request.

****

You were sparring with the training dummy in the training room of the Glass Castle, for hours now. And yet still you showed no sign of stopping or slowing down. 

A gift and a curse from being the most powerful pure-blooded fae female in existence. Regardless if you were still in your early 20s. 

Your cousin Rowan Whitethorn, the King Consort of Terrasen, trained you himself when you were a child. Only he was able to understand what it's like to have such powerful and vast magic thrumming in your veins, because he’s the same. 

He knows how important it is for you to be able to control it instead of letting it control you. Rowan also trained you in weaponry and in combat, in case you couldn’t access your magic. 

But, he also taught you the importance of training because of how powerful you are and the importance of not overwhelming yourself with your magic by letting it out in small bursts. 

By releasing it in small bursts, you can manage it more effectively and avoid potential dangers or unintended consequences. You can still hear his deep voice now, loud and clear in your head, “It's like releasing pressure slowly from a valve to ensure everything stays under control.”

Which is what you were doing now. 

Every blow you landed against the training dummy, powerful, calculated and merciless. Lethal. Had they been a real enemy. While simultaneously letting out small waves of ice-kissed wind around you and into the room.

Then you felt her—your magic always alerting you when she was near. The witch who stole half your heart. Manon Blackbeak the Queen of Witches. 

And if she was here then the one who stole the other half of your heart was close by. Dorian Havilliard the King of Adarlan. 

“I’ll be up soon,” you told her without stopping raining down blows on the training dummy. 

“Don’t bother,” she replied. That made you stop but you still didn’t turn to face her. “It’s almost midday,” she continued, sounding closer this time and you relaxed.

You finally turned to face her and noted that she was already dressed for the day and that she was right. If the sunlight pouring in from the ajar door behind her was any proof. “Huh. . . I guess I lost track of time.” Again, you didn’t have to add, seeing as this happens more often than not. 

“Hmm.” Manon hummed, taking a couple more steps closer before stopping in the middle of the room and taking off her tunic, in the training ring. Her gold eyes never leave your chest watching as it rises and falls steadily while you try to catch your breath. 

Her gaze darkening when she takes in the fact that your white shirt is practically see through from sweat. You can’t help but smirk, “See something you like?”

She shakes her head, smirking back.  “Step into the ring. If you want to keep training, I’ll train with you.” Gold eyes flick down to your hands in a pointed glance. “Unless you want to keep bleeding?” Looking down at your hands, you realize that your knuckles are bruised, cut and bloody. 

Brows furrowing as you look over your shoulder at the training dummy; all the hay that once filled it is on the floor, the fabric in tatters and the wood is splintered from where you kept hitting it. “All right, witchling, do your worst.” You challenge as you prowl onto the fighting mat. 

“With pleasure, faeling.” She grins as she settles into a fighting stance. You mirror her actions and the second you nod at her, she lunges. 

The both of you go back forth for a while trying to pin the other to no avail. “Come on, sweetheart,” you run your tongue on your lips tauntingly, “are you tired already?” You bait her and she takes it, lunging, giving you the opening you need to pin her to the mat. 

Your hips settle directly atop of hers, your hands wrapping around her wrists, keeping them and her pinned to the mat. You lean forward using your weight as leverage so she can’t buck you off. She lifts her head as best she can, her eyes flicking to your lips, “Why don’t you just kiss me already?” 

You know she’s trying to bait you, eyes flicking from her gold ones to her lips and to her heaving chest. “I’ll kiss you if you can pin me.” Her eyes narrow at your words but she smiles—a smile only reserved for you and Dorian. 

Manon tries to buck you off again but you hold firm, chuckling as she struggles, your lips parting to speak but before you can get a word out your magic alerts you of his presence. Dorian. Unconsciously your head turns, to find him looking at you and Manon with amusement.

Giving the witch Queen the opportunity to flip you both so you’re pinned beneath her. She flashes you a wicked smirk, her own eyes glinting and then she’s kissing you. Your lips parting in a moan that she swallows before letting out a moan of her own as you deepen the kiss. 

The both of you pull away at the same time, panting softly when you hear his deep sensual voice, “Done already?” You both open your mouths to respond when invisible hands rove over and in between your bodies, earning breathy whines from you. “Tired?” he questions.

Manon grinds against you, both of you letting out soft moans at the feeling and from the way Dorian’s using his magic on you. An invisible hand roving over both of your tits, palming and squeezing before sliding up, and wrapping around your throat—squeezing. 

Through half lidded eyes you see Manon arch her back and tilt her head back, proving she feels the same thing. “Can you keep going. . . yes or no?” Dorian asks again, his voice low with desire and commanding. 

“Yes.” You both breathe and the hands wrapped around your throats squeezes harder. 

“Good girls,” the King praises. Your head turns towards him when you hear sure and steady footfalls getting closer. He flashes you a lazy grin, vibrant blue eyes flickering over both of your forms before he tuts, shaking his head. “Both of you are wearing too much clothes.” 

His fingers make quick work of removing his own clothes while his magic makes quick work of removing both of yours. “Come here,” he murmurs to the both of you as he stands in the middle of the mat. You both move to stand before him and then he commands you to lay down. 

Once your back is flat against the mat he kneels between your legs and leans over you to kiss you, once. Hungrily—a warning of what’s to come. Then he’s commanding Manon. “Sit on her face, witchling.” Dorian’s lips wrapping around your clit the same time Manon straddles your face. 

You part her folds that were glistening with arousal with a pointed tongue, flicking it against her clit while Dorian sucked yours harshly. “Oh, gods!” Manon cried out as her hips bucked but you clamped your hands around her thighs, keeping her in place. 

Her hips jerking everytime you moaned against her sensitive bundle of nerves from your princeling sucking and swirling his tongue over your clit while fucking you with long deft fingers. The both of you, writhing and moaning messes while nearly falling over the edge. 

Then he curled them inside you, hitting the spot that sent you over the edge everytime and you came with a lewd moan that sent Manon over the edge with you while you sucked her clit. She was still trembling when she rolled off of you. 

Dorian was still working you through your orgasm with his fingers when he sat on his knees between your legs. Invisible fingers pinching and rolling your hardened nipples, others gripping your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze as you come undone beneath his touch. 

You could still hear Manon cry out from pleasure and you had no doubt invisible hands were bringing her pleasure in waves. One orgasm blending into two and two to three. 

Dorian was the image of pure male satisfaction as he brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them clean.  His free hand rubbing the head of his cock against your folds, making your hips jerk and then he pushed in inch by inch. Stretching you out. Kissing you, your neck, swirling his tongue over your nipples as you adjusted to him. 

You rolled your hips letting him know he could move and his ring adorned hand wrapped around your throat, “Careful, faeling. I’m fucking you right now. Not the other way around.” You whined at his words as his hips snapped at a brutal pace. 

“F-fuck. . . oh!” you rasped out. “You feel so good!”

He threw his head back in a groan at the praise. But then, his head snapped towards the door, hips never faltering. And that’s when you heard it, heavy footsteps walking by at the end of the corridor. Probably one of the royal guards. Maybe Chaol. 

Your back arching as you let out a sharp moan at the thought of being heard, being caught with your lovers. 

Dorian squeezed harder, “You want them to see you getting fucked? Hmm?” He slapped one of your tits earning another moan. “You want them to see you getting treated like the pretty slut that you are, my little faeling.” You nodded desperately and he chuckled darkly, “then take it.”

His large hands moved to grip your hips and you greedily gulped down air, as he pounded into you mercilessly. He leaned back on his haunches slightly changing the angle and your walls clenched around his cock in response. 

You felt pressure building at the base of your spine and knew you were going to dissolve into pleasure again. Your legs instinctively wrapped around him and his hips began to stutter.

He wrapped a ring adorned hand around your throat again, squeezing until you saw stars and then he leaned down. His warm breath tickling your sensitive pointed ear, “Just breathe,” he taunted then he let go. His words, the last thing you heard as you fell over the edge. 

Moments later you felt his cock twitch inside you and then he was spilling himself into you. Hips jerking as he worked both of you through your orgasm. 

You felt him kiss you and then your forehead and then he pulled out. 

Through your heart pounding in your ears you heard Manon crying out for him and it was all you could do to open your eyes and look at them. Manon was on her hands and knees and Dorian was behind her.

 Fucking her mercilessly. 

The only noises you could hear were obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin, Manon’s breathy moans and Dorian’s low raspy groans. Your body was still trembling when Manon wrapped a pale hand around your ankle and pulled you towards her, so your cunt was right in front of her face. 

Still panting from your orgasm when she gave you a feral grin, “Just breathe, sweetheart.” She teased you with the same nickname you had taunted her with earlier and started eating you out. 

You screamed out as your body jolted from the overstimulation but that only spurred her on. Your back arching as she moaned against your clit. You could already feel another orgasm building and from the way they were both moaning and groaning you knew they were too. 

And not even a minute later all three of you came at the same time. Each other’s names on your lips in a plea or prayer you couldn’t tell.

[avengineers]

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[polliwoggers]

have I ever told you how much i adore the concept of clockwork stars. They're the perfect balance of whimsical and deeply, deeply ominous. long-forgotten technology you don't have the first clue toward understanding. easily the most powerful of the ancients' creations. control of even one of the miraculous comets is enough to make you a god. it will do exactly as you ask, but only once. be careful what you wish for.

to think that the ancients had both the drive and ability to fabricate a literal wishing star just... boggles me. why do they exist? for what purpose were they intended? why weren't there any safeguards? how could the ancients have disappeared if they had devices as powerful as these at their disposal? why would they let themselves disappear?… and why would they have allowed something so dangerous to continue to roam the galaxy, eons after they were gone?

it's a fairy. it's a supercomputer. it is the curling finger on the monkey's paw. it's the size of a planet. god, its size. it must be the largest foe kirby has ever fought. there's no contest. To even put a dent in it requires taking it down from the inside. intercepting its immune response, sabotaging its structural support, and failing to smother its eternal, mechanical heartbeat. the sheer scale of this monster! how marvelous it must be to see it in action! translating a request into code, initializing a wish. valves open, gears turn; a cacophony of metallic pings, booms, and clicks. it's the loudest sound you've ever heard. steam whistles from an opening as it boils into the vastness of space. you can't escape the sound, and you can't look away. you're dying. were you careful with what you wished for?

i think it's really fitting how a lot of fan content uses "Nova" as a stand-in for "God" when they want characters to swear to something. there are a lot of godlike characters in Kirby to choose from, a number of whom are actually acknowledged as gods to certain groups within the text of the games themselves -- Dark Nebula, Necrodeus, Void Termina. Not to mention all of the contenders for angel or demigod status. but, no, it's Nova that we swear to? A lifeless machine with no will of its own? a tool with no protections, that any entrepreneuring tyrant could use to make the universe contort to their liking? It just… really speaks to how awe-inspiring and terrifying clockwork stars actually are. there is no "BE NOT AFRAID" when it descends. it does not have the capacity to care how you feel. a simple ">READY" is all it will say. and, honestly, I think that's even scarier.

clockwork stars are the closest thing the kirby universe has to a doomsday device, and i can't get enough of it

[bl3pwastaken]

Trafalgar D. Water Law x Reader

Okay so this was meant to be a one-shot but words got away from me so words are all over the place and there’s hella typos especially since my dyslexia ridden ass didn’t go tf to sleep last night

TW and CW: Hanahaki Disease, angst, hurt/and only for now no comfort, unintentionally toxic(on Law's part), slight mentions of blood, toxic relationship dynamic

also cross posted to Ao3

part 2

Dive through Crystal Waters

Growing up she was promised a myriad of things. Familial security, a quiet calm life from taking over the small botanical business, etc. Many, many, and many more still were promised to her, including that love was patient, kind, gentle, and warm, especially when it would come to whoever would say the cursed words of “I love you” back. Well for starters, she did not end up with a quiet or calm life having ventured into the new world, no familial security having left them behind to chase after her simple dream of supporting that man's dream. Her time on the Polar Tang interrupted her many gifts of promises being fulfilled, including that love would be patient, kind, gentle, and warm. Everyday either a run or fight with the marines, gathering supplies for their journey ahead, run-ins with other pirates were just a few things that were the opposite of the promised life.

The stiff thick fabric of the boiler suit leaving her hands exposed to the chilly cold of the submarine, the cold due to a fault in a valve, reminded her of many cold things. Many akin to the object of her affections, Trafalgar Law, Captain of the Heart Pirates, and head of the seafaring vessel she found herself on these past few years. While she busied herself carrying and towing boxes and crates to and from, helping the other crew where she could, she did her best to remind herself of all the wonderful things dealing with the cold she loved. She reminisced about the cold winter seasons that brought snow, the beautiful droplets from rainy days, that first plunge into cold water when going for a swim. She did whatever it was she could do, only to end up right back where she had started. 

She remembered his steely gray eyes, his gaze hard as steel. His icy cold hands whenever he felt it suited him to spare her even a few seconds of his embrace, often freezing her in place for what felt like hours and days after he was long gone from his presence. His chilly presence reminded her of lonely snowy fields, barren and nothing for miles in site. Although in the beginning, she believed to have known him well, she found herself slammed into the ship-sinking iceberg of his personality. Only the tiniest bit ever shown and the rest buried deep refusing to surface above any waters to welcome you in the open air. 

The crates of spare parts, and repair tools jingled and clinked within their confines. Heavy sounds of a set of boots echoed within the halls as they clunked closer to the boiler room where Shachi and Penguin were waiting for the arrival of the crates’ contents while assessing the pipes and valves for the source of their rather common problem of the newfound chilly air. Stepping into the freezing room her sight is welcomed with Shachi crouching weirdly below a pipe on the wall, Penguin leaning just as strangely on a step stool above the very same pipe, both sharing the same comically stern faces of concentration. The loud echo of the door shutting with an accidental slam led to Shachi shooting up the same instant Penguin sent himself tumbling off of the step stool, both crashing into one another after both had banged their heads on the poor unsuspecting metal of the pipe.

“W-well hey dollface.” Poor Penguin quipped from his newfound place on the floor sprawled awkwardly across Shachi’s lap.

“He-ow- hey short stuff.” The whimpering response of the aforementioned redhead was  drenched in annoyance at the fall; was slumped partially against the wall, his hat skewed on top of his shaggy red tresses of messy hair. Promptly shoving his friend to free his legs from the confines of his friends weight, Shachi scrambled to meet their friend and fellow crew member wordlessly taking the top crate from her hands to ease the load. Having recovered not much long after being shoved, Penguin was right behind to take the crate of tools and repair equipment.

“Thanks for grabbing this for us. Really saved our necks here since a certain bear not only lost what we needed but is too busy napping to go look!” Looking over to a far off corner was Bepo peacefully napping the afternoon away completely unbothered from the growled yell of your ginger friend, box now perched on his hip under his arm. Penguin, already busy grabbing tools and a new valve using a hand to yank at the collar of his uniform in a desperate attempt to cover more of his face to shield from the cold.

“‘Course! Mind if I help?” Already reaching for the remaining materials needed for repair, plumes of soft steam fleeing from her lips into the freezing room as she stated her rhetorical question having already decided she’d help where she could. Even when it came to the mundane and stressful, these two never failed to have her laughing, feeling as though she was in stitches not even halfway through the repair job. Deciding it best to wait here in the boiler room to wait and see if things stabilize and maintain proper functions, the three of them plopped on the floor in the far opposite side to their furry crewmate to avoid disturbing him. After it was done she simply sat between the two taller men as they joked and poked fun at one another, while Bepo was still sound asleep and snoring from his spot in the far off corner of the room. Jokes made minutes to turn to an hour, and jokes slowly faded into stories of childhood. 

Right in the middle of a particularly hilarious story Bepo’s snoring ceased and in walked the man who stole the young woman’s heart. Quickly Penguin and Shachi erupted from their respective spots on either side of you to stand and properly greet their Captain and longtime friend. “ We found and repaired the valve no problemo Law.” Penguin already spouting words at the even taller form of Law as he stood in the slightly warmer space, the two already conversing fondly with one another. More like Penguin spouting words and Law standing there while he smiled and exchanged slightly less friendly quips with their mutual friend, the small chubby penguin on his head slightly bobbing about at each of his expressive movements while he spoke. Something possessing him to look over to where his now long term girlfriend and Shachi were, (Y/N) and his friend giving a friendly wave, her’s a bit more enthusiastic, the other clutching a wrench that was used earlier, while (Y/N) sat with a big grin at seeing him.

“Hey Shachi,” coming over to place a hand on the killer whale hat wearing man,” nice work!” The brother duo happy having their day's work done, waved goodbye to their Captain leaving the three of them with a presumably sleeping Bepo. The other two were already rambling, jumping from joking to arguing and back to jokes, while she was left on the floor smiling at their usual antics. There on her spot on the floor, she couldn’t help but notice that her excited hello wasn’t responded to. Completely left out, and hoping that maybe he just didn’t happen to notice her right there next to the very friend he just walked up to not even moments ago.

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Having finished her menial tasks and not having any remaining energy to help the others any more than she already has she retired to her workspace as the ship's botanist. Upon opening the door you're instantly met with a smell and site that always puts her at ease no matter what. The odor of acidic and alkaline soil, rocks, and processing compost welcomed her in with the warmest of embraces of familiarity and feelings of home. No menial tasks or chores, no Bepo or Shachi and penguin exchanging jokes, no pesky marines determined to take the nearest pirate's head available, and most importantly, no Trafalgar Law. After working the heavy metal door closed, she made an instant attempt of removing her uniform, moving about the room towards her work table like second nature as she had done countless days and times before now, dropping the suit on a stool a couple of feet away from her desk. She looked fondly over the random plant clippings and tools, shuffling through notes to remember where she had left off on her work.

 Currently, at the moment she has plans. Struggling to find a proper time balance between her shared duties as crew and her title as botanist, she needed a new way of ensuring they all got the proper water needed whenever she couldn’t be here, and hopefully free up some of her time for other things.Lost in her scanning of different pages and sketches and notes, the sound of the heavy door was lost to her, along with the approaching presence. Having searched, any stacks of paper she found the needle in the haystack, her irrigation blueprints. 

“Fuck yes! Found you ya sneaky shit.” Holding up the page in triumph, her actions were met with a deep chuckle. Familiar hands found her waist and a head placed on her shoulder was all she needed to know instantly it was her partner in literal crime. 

“Hey baby, what do you have there?” Tilting her head enough to give a quick peck on the side of his temple, she dusted off random specks of dirt from the blueprint shifting her hold on it to where he could see.

“Blueprints for the greenhouse. Do you wanna see?” She was practically buzzing with excitement already mentally prepping a checklist of steps and materials needed to bring the plans to fruition. Not really looking at the paper, and more so focused on the feeling of her butt pressed into his front within the hug, all you got met with was a simple hum followed by,” Yeah that’s cool I guess.” She felt a slight sprinkle on her fiery excitement, fighting against the dying flame.

“Hell yeah, it’s cool. This thing once it’s done will do wonders for my workload and free up so much of my time. Which means I get to bother you more often.” a simple roll of the eyes was her only response. Unslotting his arms from the woman’s middle he stood up with a big stretch, a few cracks gracing the otherwise very silent space. A quick tap to her ass, and a wave was the last she saw as she turned back to the blue crinkled parchment.

“Well, see you later.” and with that, she was again alone, the metal of the door clanging shut sitting heavy on your heart for a reason unbeknownst to you. For some unknown reason this single piece of paper that had previously brought you so much excitement, that lit the fire of passion in your belly, was all but the size of a matchstick now. Still there but much smaller prior to your love’s visit. Quietly placing the paper aside to be mixed in with the barrage of other papers, she went on to grab a recent plant clipping of a medicinal plant and silently set to work on propagating. The page lay just as still and quiet as she left it, leaving it to be forgotten. The dirt and grime of her heart sprouting the first painful seeds of a hard to name feeling whispered in the recesses of her being, sitting alone in the room with nothing but herself and her plants.

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The calm of night had settled and blanketed the sky, and there she was tangled in Law’s sheets, and him not present. It wasn’t anything new, in fact, it was something she found herself slowly getting used to finally after the past several months. Unable to sleep and restless, but lacking the willpower and motivation to move, she stayed in the spot she lay, glancing at the alarm clothing mounted on the bedside table. The green neon read 1:00 A.M. This used to resound a painful stab to her chest at one point, but all she was met with was nothing but the cold spot beside her. Following the knowledge of routine he would be back here in the captain’s quarters anywhere from 2:30 to 4:50, Law gone either messing around with his medical equipment or doing whatever the hell he does all the way into these late hours of night. For the first time in these several months, she felt it. That haunting stab to her chest, and all because she remembered how things used to be.

She remembers how once those steely eyes ignited something in her, and how they’d never fail to spark a smile into action. She remembers feeling like anything she wanted to know about him, Law would present her the book of his life as if ready to read off any page from within it. She remembers how his hugs once made her feel so safe and warm while he would hold her head or back, and would whisper his adoration for her. She remembers when she started sleeping in the same room, they’d walk back together, or being only behind by a few minutes to join her in loving cuddles within the covers of the bed. Now she gets his dick pressed into the back of her pants if she’s lucky, or his hugs accompanied by a grope of the tits or squeeze of her bottom at best, and they're only fleeting. 

Here in this bed remembering the sickeningly sweet memories, she laid in the cold room alone. The vines of loneliness spread roots in her heart, a tickle in her throat, and a stinging behind her eyes. Sitting up with an abrupt violent cough she turned away from the door completely missing the three petals of pure white jasmine laid where she coughed into the duvet, and let the sweet embrace of sleep carry her away for the night.

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The sound of the door closing was what pulled (Y/N) back into the world of consciousness. Feeling the faint hints of warmth drenching the sheets next to her within the bed, she scooted closer to what would normally being the toned chest of Law, which normally was followed by and arm draping over her waist to pull her closer while he grumbled something incoherent in his sleepy state. However, she was met only with empty space. The warmth she thought was her lover, just residual heat that was quickly fading in the cool private quarters, Law having already left to start the day. Sitting up and adjusting her sleeping top, attempting to peer around through sleep drunk eyes, she turned to look at the alarm clock beside her once again, taking note the time was now 8:30 in the morning.  Groggily sweeping her feet to the floor, she meandered into the attached bathroom smelling the scent of men’s body wash and shampoo, the steam barely left in the room, only a bit of condensation on the edges of the mirror were what remained. 

Deciding it best to keep it short and sweet she gave a quick scrub of her body before feeling that similar tickle in her throat as last night. The feeling much like leaves brushing against your arm scraped at her chest. Finished, clean and feeling sick to her stomach, she quickly grabbed her towel from the wall hook, and crouched in front of the toilet. The feeling at first creeping, now screaming at her coughs into the porcelain. Vision blurred, body screeching something was wrong, all she did was ignore them, fumbling around for the toilet lever and wiping away the viscous liquid from her chin. The dark fabric of the towel hid the vermillion shade of her blood from her unknowing gaze. She stumbled to the sink, and when she finally got a glimpse of herself, she had to be perfectly honest. She looked awful. She was paler, dark circles creeping beneath her eyes nestled on puffy eye bags, her skin slightly blotchy with discoloration, her hair a frizzled mess and slightly thinner. A telltale she was sick. “Guess I’m dying,” completely unaware of the accuracy of her deprecating jab.

Now dressed and brushing her teeth she felt a repeated soft brush of something on her hand, a sticky feeling on her jaw. Figuring she maybe didn’t clean her face enough, there in the reflection was a red stained Jasmine petal sitting right smack above her jawline. Without a second thought and only finding it a slightly weird inconvenience she snatched the petal off of her and into the trash bin beside the counter. Stepping out as ready as she could manage for herself in prep of the day she left the bathroom. The lone bloody petal lay among random rubbish in the bin, a silently screaming warning at her incoming doom, and a cacophonous silent warning to Law. Both begrudgingly unaware of what was happening right under their noses.

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Breakfast was the same as it has been these past several months. Everyone laughing, arguing, planning courses or discussing the day ahead while you quietly sat at the far opposite end of Law next to Bepo. (Y/N) stopped trying to get even a word in at this point when it came to breakfast, or even lunch and dinner for that matter. She learned a few months ago after she kept trying that everytime she opened her mouth to say something or even in the middle of a statement, Law would simply interrupt and interject whatever he had to say. Occasionally Bepo being the sweety he was would ask if his dear friend was okay or nudge her into continuing what she had to say, and all that was given in response was a small nod and a smile that was meant to be reassuring. 

The rest of the day went as normal, the usual shenanigans happening like clockwork. Crew hurriedly shuffling about, cleaning, fixing random things that need their attention in the Polar Tang, Bepo finishing his work to lay around unconsciously inconveniencing Shachi and Penguin with their tasks, the usual of most usual day happenings. Then there was Law. He either cooped up in the exam room giving a random physical or checking in on his crews health, or he was fucking off somewhere to do whatever he as Captain did nowadays. She attempted to not put too much on herself knowing she’d be on watch duty tonight, doing her best to distract from the winding churning feeling in her chest as she swept slowly, trying and barely succeeding in catching her breath.

“(Y/N), I’m not going to show preferential treatment just because you’re with me, so stop slacking off.” Law’s voice came from somewhere behind her followed by fading footsteps. The feeling in her chest only worsened beyond it’s original state just moments prior to being reprimanded. With a shake of her head she went back to sweeping the deck in prep for meeting up with the Kid Pirates tomorrow. The meeting had something to do with a temporary alliance while they agreed to help one another look for their own things apparently located on some island everyone was prepping to head to in search of their own personal items of interest. The thought of seeing Killer and Heat managed to put a small smile on her face. Both men incredibly sweet despite their rough exteriors, and proving to be genuinely nice friends she feels she’ll always hold dear. Not feeling like there is anything left in her day to day to look forward to anymore, knowing she’d get to see them both eased the subtle darkening of her thoughts. 

Night took forever to reach the sky, and now that it’s night, morning was taking just as long, the only sign of it being close to morning being the slightly brightening shades of blue in the sky, stars slowly fading from their painting in the sky. Another part of day by day was just taking place, that being (Y/N) ripping her own heart to shreds at reminiscing on the good old days with her, Bepo, Shachi and Penguin. All four of them were the only crew for a while. The same menial tasks and chores, but they felt more fun, more wonderful and meaningful. It was back when you felt close with not just Shachi and Penguin and Bepo, but with the love of your life also. Suddenly she was hit with another one of her recent coughing fits, this time having no choice but to notice the rush of Jasmine petals rush from her mouth and onto the floor below her, red specks of color sprinkled randomly on the petals. Shaking slightly from the sheer aggressiveness of the coughs she took a petal into one of her shaky palms bringing it up to her face to look more closely at it.

“Jasmine?” The creeping feeling grew bigger than ever, sensations of vines entangling around her lungs, almost like they had an attempt to comfort her in this moment, only ending up nearly suffocating her in the process.

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Deciding it was about damn time to make an effort in comforting herself, she decided why not get dressed up, pay extra attention to her face by applying skincare and makeup, doing her hair in her favorite style, wearing her favorite outfit, and ditching the boiler suit uniform for the Heart Pirates, in preparation of seeing her two friends that were currently anchored next to the Polar Tang just outside. Having finished and feeling satisfied with her appearance finally feeling put together and not dead looking anymore, it was as though it provided slight relief and proved to be just the distraction needed for the horrible physical sensations that seemed to greet her more than her own lover did nowadays. 

With a skip in her step, the sub’s botanist made her way up deck to hurriedly scramble to the helmet wearing KIller and a giant absolute unit of a human(or what she assumed) Heat. The two immediately lighting up at the sight of you climbing onto Victoria Punk the two huge men jogging over to greet you. Heat already having snatched you off the wooden floor of the deck into a bone crushing hug, the blue haired man completely unaware of the strangled mutters of “I can’t breathe” and “too tight”, only really noticing when Killer gave him a quick jab in the side.

Just as she was set down, and air flooded her poor lunges, while Heat busied himself instantly with apologizing profusely, Killer the the botanist moving to give reassuring pats on his shoulder for comfort through his seemingly endless sputtering. A loud wrathful scream boomed out onto the deck of Victoria Punk, the three pirates turning their attention to the source to find Kid and Law exiting one of the doors seeming to be mid squabble.

“You mean to tell me, you dragged me into a stupid fuckass alliance over a dumb fucking flo-mmMMm” and as quickly as whatever words were leaving Captain Eustass Kid’s mouth, Law deemed a just as quick smother of the hand was the appropriate thing to do. None of the trio really all that worried even if a fight were to break out, knowing they both could handle themselves continued on about their impatient greetings, Killer taking a much gentler approach of ruffling the young woman’s hair instead of the agro death grip hug from Heat.

Using the sleeves of her shirt to cover her mouth, she excused herself briefly as (Y/N) felt the burning of a coughing fit coming on, rushing to a private place to upchuck more jasmine petals. Pulling her hand back to further look at the damage, there was a visible increase in the number of petals, and within her hand sat a full fluffy plume of a jasmine. The flower looked as though it was covered in red morning dew. This flower being one of the few final warnings of her impending death.

[mychlapci]

Forcefemming Sentinel saga… in the few weeks before Sentinel cracks and finally starts playing with his needy pussy, his valve is swollen and hypersensitive to the touch. At first he manages to keep his panels closed, but eventually the press of his swollen pussy lips and throbbing node become painful instead of a pleasant distraction. He can’t help crying from humiliation when his panels pop open in the middle of the break room, leaning into Jazz’s kind embrace.

“It’s only natural, sweetspark,” someone croons soothingly. It helps some; Sentinel’s datapad has been pushing the idea that his feelings and arousal and the “heat” are all natural for weeks. That this is all normal, that nothing is wrong. The sentiment being expressed aloud is almost a hypnotic trigger for him. He keeps crying, but it’s all the hormones. Jazz is so kind and understanding as he has someone bring Sentinel a skirt that patches his pretty blue and gold paint. It’s natural. He can’t help his swollen, greedy valve wanting to come say hello. He’s in heat, it’s a medical issue, it’s not Sentinel’s fault.

Everyone is so quick to praise Sentinel’s new uniform. They seem to like pinching his aft and flipping the fabric to reveal the plush, dripping mound. So pretty, they assure him. It’s normal, it’s natural, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Pretty girls like Sentinel have needy little pussies. And Sentinel wants to argue that he’s not a girl, but any time he tries the mech will stroke his node beneath his skirt and turn his protest into a whine of arousal. Sometimes they’ll gather his slick and push their fingers between his plump lips to let him taste his own juices while they coo over how pretty “her” skirt is.

Sentinel’s cute little titties have swollen into a tender handful, leaving him a wreck whenever the sensitive nozzles brush the inside of his chestplate. First Aid graciously massages them over their lunch breaks, but the attention only ever seems to make them more and more of an erogenous zone. Sentinel’s hypnopad makes him feel curious about his cute, budding titties. Until he can’t help groping and teasing them at home as he grinds his limp little cocklet into a pillow. Trying to ignore how much better it feels when the case drags across his node as Sentinel tugs his nipples and humps like a good girl should. No more feverish rutting, just sweet little attempts at grinding. Fat node tingling. Thighs sticky.

Soon, much like his valve, his cute little pouches are too swollen to close his chestplate over. Sentinel is so grateful for his team’s dedication to helping him adjust and remain dignified: all of the bras they gift him seem to perfectly match his skirts! And they can’t seem to stop staring and praising and reaching out to tweak a nipple if one sneaks free of the tiny little bralettes. Smiling and praising his cute little titties and precious noises. Sentinel is such a treat to work with, these days. So beautifully responsive, so bashful but needy. Not quite a slut but sensitive and eager.

The “suppressants” clearly aren’t working, but Sentinel’s afraid of how much worse it would be without them. Staring at his changed frame in the mirror and trying not to moan. His datapad has made sure he stays in love with the changes. They’re natural, they’re sexy, his coworkers love them. And the attention and praise feels so good, the hands exploring Sentinel’s juicy aft and curvy waist feel so good. Sentinel deserves to feel good, and his curvy body and budding titties get him lots of nice attention. And attention feels good, so Sentinel’s body must be good. Lots of yummy little logic loops keep him docile if a little embarrassed. It just feels so good and right to slip a slutty little skirt on to accentuate his hips and sticky aft.

Eventually Sentinel has to acknowledge that his heat just can’t be stopped. His pussy is so swollen and needy, his breasts undeniably a pair of pouches forming. Spike soft and useless. He’s a little afraid, but his strong, handsome coworkers have been so good to him while all this has been going on. Surely at least one person will be willing to help?

They avoid fistfighting for the right to take Sentinel’s valve for the first time but only because they’d agreed months in advance on who it would be. Jazz has spent the longest amount of time and in the most direct contact with Sentinel Prime. If anyone deserves to help make her into a good girl, it’d be him. When Sentinel approaches him, bashful in his skirt and lacy bralette, Jazz is all too understanding.

“Of course I’ll help, SP,” he says earnestly, already bending him over his own desk, “you’re our best girl.” And before Sentinel can protest, he’s sliding into “her” slick valve for the first time. The datapad is still flickering in front of him., clutched in his hands as Jazz grinds their arrays together. It shocks a long moan from Sentinel’s vocalizer, especially when Jazz tweaks a nipple and spanks at his jiggling aft.

“I’m noooot a girl,” Sentinel managed to whine, tilting his aft up to take the spike even deeper when Jazz begins to thrust. But between his raging hormones and his pretty datapad overlay, suddenly he isn’t so sure. Jazz just laughs stroking at Sentinel’s node until the protests dissolve into begging for more.

“SP, baby girl,” he says with condescending warmth, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re wearing a skirt and taking my spike like you’re meant for it.” And Sentinel flushes, even as he can’t help moaning at another expert thrust. Because he’d been preening over how pretty his skirts were for weeks now, primping and polishing for his coworkers’ approval for even longer. Giggling and moaning over their wandering hands, and pressing sweet kisses to their cheeks and lips as a reward. When was the last time he’d touched his spike, again? Had he even protested wearing the skirt, the bra, the makeup, the *glitter* all the way back at the beginning of this mess?

“B-but,” he stutters, vulnerable and suddenly teary eyed, “you said it was natural.” Because it had all happened so slowly he hadn’t even noticed it. Only that everything felt so right and good. Jazz just croons at him pulling out to turn Sentinel over so they can make optic contact. Wiping a little tear away with his thumb, even as he slips his spike back into the vice grip of Sentinel’s no-longer-virgin valve.

“It’s perfectly natural for a good girl like you,” Jazz purrs, grinding their arrays together, “all of this is just your body’s way of helping you be what you’re meant to be.” Sentinel’s node glows between them, the tip of his barely pressurized spike peeking out of its housing. Jazz strokes them both in tantalizing circles.

“I’m a girl?” Sentinel asks desperately, charge mounting as Jazz begins to slowly roll his hips again.

“Our best girl, SP,” Jazz confirms, trying not to grin triumphantly. Sentinel’s overload takes them both by surprise, but the aphrodisiacs ensure that ehe’s ready for round two in no time flat. Of course her “heat” wouldn’t be so easily defeated. First Aid will be happy to tell her that in rare cases a protracted heat can’t be quenched until the mechanism has kindled.

Sentinel is just so grateful that her wonderful coworkers are so understanding! …and willing to pound her valve over a desk or conference table.

ough... Sentinel accepts it so quickly :) Yes, yes, she's a girl, she's a good girl for her generous, beloved coworkers... Being a girl feels so good, she's all cute and dolled up and all the mechs are paying attention to her, not like when she was still a boy and everything was so stressful and difficult...

[marigold-hills]

June 26: burn | @wolfstarmicrofic | word count: 556

NOTE: NSFW, a bit kinky, explicit, minors do not interact etc etc

PREVIOUS PART • NEXT PART • FIRST PART

They lay curled together, Sirius and Remus, and night falls around them. The spelled sky on the canopy of Sirius’ bed comes into view. Love me under the stars, he thinks.

Remus looks at him like he’s a holy mouth peace: awe inspiring in both meanings of the word, wonderful and daunting. “The things I want to do to you,” he says, “if you’ll let me.”

Sirius feels both prey and hunter. Some ancient instinct tells him run but the madness says yes, anything, devour me whole or leave me in pieces.

“I don’t want to stop you.”

“Good,” Remus says and pushes him down, into the mattress, hand on the apex of his throat. Like a valve releasing, something in him shifts. “If you don’t enjoy anything, you will tell me. Yes?”

There is nothing that Remus could do that he wouldn’t like but he nods, agreeing, because there is steel in his Moony’s expression and he realises, just like this: it’s a two-way street. If Remus is his, then he belongs in turn, and isn’t that just the sweetest thought?

“Take of your shirt.” (And Sirius does.) “Merlin, you have carved me into your skin, and you didn’t know it.” (Hand tracing the lines of the tattoo, laying across the symbol of antimony, the wolf.) “Whatever made you realise, I will repeat every day just to keep you.”

Sirius wants to say don’t because he realised under the full moon, but before he can say so Remus leans down and pulls at the skin next to the tattoo with his teeth. “You marked yourself up for me, so very prettily. Let me finish the job?”

He must answer, somewhere amongst the whines, because Remus doesn’t stop, creates a line of bites and bruises up to Sirius’ throat. Each one a burn of liquid fire, molten honey poured on skin and Sirius wants more and more and more.

“Open your mouth,” Remus tells him.

Yes. Feed me chocolates or feed me you, keep me filled up until I spill over.

Sirius does. Remus licks at his bottom lip. “Beautiful.” Doesn’t kiss him, and Sirius thinks he might be begging for it. Instead, two fingers breach his mouth: “lick them for me, love,” and Sirius obeys. Mind whites out, eyes close over. “Look at me, come on. See what you do to me.”

There is vulnerability in the eye contact. Remus is flushed, pretty pink spreading across the bridge of his nose. Sirius sucks on the fingers in his mouth (“Good job. There you go.”) and it’s almost as good as when it was filled with Remus’ cock.

Remus doesn’t bother taking off Sirius’ trousers, only undoes the zip. Pulls his fingers out of Sirius’ mouth and pushes his hand under the fabric, wraps it around him. It’s something like bliss, if bliss was fire and ruination because Sirius knows, just like that: nothing will ever be the same again. He will do anything to keep this man, cross every boundary and break every law.

Hand sure and sturdy around Sirius, Remus leans down to kiss him. “Want to see you cum for me,” says in between.

It’s minutes, until Sirius does, wraps himself around Remus like a vine. Remus talks him through it: there you go, so good for me, you’re perfect, gods I love you.

NOTES:

It’s the quiet ones

Only four parts left, I’m going to miss these two :(

moon-girl88 @digital-kam @tealeavesandtrash @sweetstarryskies @alltoounwellll @hunnybeemarie @hoje--aqui @annaliza999 @hihimissamericanbi @gipitothefrog @shamelesswolfstarshipper @a-pine-cone @cosmicweeds @cocoabutterandbooks @bloodoffire @residentdisaster @shamelesswolfstarshipper @ravenwordss @prancingpony42 @themoonlovesthestars @starving-marauder-lover @weirdtinkerbellversion @deadcupcakehere @theprettieststarfr @dumbass-gryffindor1960

(let me know if you do/don’t want to be tagged in next parts)

[badathumanemotions]

Release

Emily Prentiss x Fem Reader MDNI Category: Smut CW: Fingering, Oral (fem), Nipple Play, Squirting, Scissoring WC: 5,043 Emily catches on that Y/N is sexually frustrated and shoots her shot. (Not Proof Read) Master List

"You know, Y/N," Emily Prentiss said, her eyes locking onto her colleague's over the rim of her coffee mug, "you've been looking stressed lately."

Y/N forced a laugh, hoping it sounded genuine. "It's just work," she replied, trying to wave off the concern. But Emily wasn't buying it.

"It's more than that," Emily said, her voice a gentle challenge. "You're wound tighter than a drum. And if I know one thing about you, it's that you need to let off some steam."

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up. She had been feeling the tension build up inside her, like a pressure cooker with no release valve. Her personal life was a desert of unfulfilled desires, and the long hours at the BAU weren't helping. But she had never expected Emily to be the one to bring it up, let alone offer a solution that was so… intimate.

Emily set her mug down with a soft clink on the table. "Look, I've been there," she said, her voice low and understanding. "Sometimes, you just need someone to take the edge off."

Y/N's heart raced. She had always found Emily attractive, with her sharp features and commanding presence. The thought of Emily in that way, touching her, made Y/N's pulse quicken.

"What are you suggesting?" Y/N asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Emily leaned in closer, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "I'm suggesting that I could help you with that," she said, her eyes darkening with desire. "If you want, of course."

Y/N's eyes widened, and she felt a surge of excitement and nervousness. She had fantasized about Emily before, but never thought it would go beyond her daydreams. "I-I don't know," she stuttered, trying to gather her thoughts.

Emily's smile grew. "It's just an offer," she said, placing a comforting hand on Y/N's arm. "But I can tell you this, if you say yes, you won't regret it."

Y/N took a deep breath, her eyes searching Emily's for any signs of doubt. But all she saw was confidence and a spark of something else, something that made her want to say yes. "Okay," she finally murmured.

Emily's smile grew into a grin. "Good choice," she said, her voice a seductive purr. "I promise, I'll take good care of you."

The following evening, Y/N found herself at Emily's apartment, her nerves sparking like a live wire. The apartment was dimly lit, candles casting flickering shadows across the walls. The scent of vanilla filled the air, mingling with the faint hint of Emily's perfume.

"Are you sure about this?" Emily asked, her voice soothing, as she led Y/N into the living room.

Y/N nodded, her throat dry. "Yes," she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper. She was sure, or at least she thought she was. The anticipation was both thrilling and terrifying.

Emily stepped closer, and Y/N could feel the heat radiating from her body. "Good," she said, her eyes travelling down to Y/N's lips. "Because I've been thinking about this for a while."

Without waiting for a response, Emily leaned in and kissed her, her lips soft and insistent. Y/N's breath hitched as she melted into the kiss, feeling a rush of desire that had been building for weeks, maybe even months. The world outside the apartment walls faded away, leaving only the two of them in the warm embrace of the candlelit room.

Emily's hand slid up Y/N's arm, and she could feel the heat of her touch through the fabric of her shirt. The kiss grew deeper, their tongues exploring each other with an urgency that surprised Y/N. She had never felt this way before, not even with anyone she had dated. There was something about Emily's confidence, her dominance, that made Y/N feel both safe and incredibly aroused.

Breaking the kiss, Emily stepped back and took Y/N's hand, leading her to the bedroom. The room was just as dimly lit as the rest of the apartment, with soft music playing in the background. Y/N's heart hammered in her chest as she took in the sight of the large, inviting bed, the silk sheets thrown back in invitation.

Emily turned to face her, her eyes searching Y/N's for any sign of hesitation. "You can stop this at any time," she said, her voice a gentle murmur. "But if you're in, I promise you, it'll be worth it."

Y/N swallowed hard, her hand trembling slightly in Emily's firm grip. "I'm in," she said, her voice firm despite the butterflies in her stomach.

Emily's smile was all the encouragement she needed. She pulled Y/N closer, and their bodies pressed together, the friction sending sparks of desire through Y/N's core. Their kiss grew more urgent, and Y/N felt her knees weaken as Emily's hands began to roam over her body, tracing the lines of her waist and hips before moving up to cup her breasts.

Emily's thumbs circled Y/N's erect nipples through the fabric of her shirt, teasing them to hard peaks. Y/N gasped into the kiss, her hands moving to Emily's shoulders, then up to tangle in her hair, pulling her closer. Emily's touch was firm but gentle, a stark contrast to the way she usually commanded a room, and it only served to make Y/N want more.

Guiding Y/N to the bed, Emily sat her down and knelt before her, her eyes never leaving hers. She deftly unbuttoned Y/N's shirt, revealing a black bra that barely contained her breasts. Y/N watched, her breath ragged, as Emily traced the edge of the fabric with her fingertips before reaching around to unclasp it. The bra fell away, and Emily's eyes widened in appreciation at the sight of her bare skin.

Y/N's heart raced as Emily leaned in, her hot breath ghosting over her nipples before she took one into her mouth, sucking gently. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through her body, and she couldn't help but arch into the touch. Emily's teeth grazed the sensitive skin, and Y/N's grip tightened on her hair.

Emily's hands moved to Y/N's pants, unbuckling her belt with a practiced ease that spoke of experience. Y/N's breathing grew shallower as Emily unzipped her pants and slid her hand inside, finding the dampness that had pooled between her thighs. The touch was electric, and she let out a soft moan.

Emily's eyes glinted with satisfaction as she felt the wetness of Y/N's arousal. She stroked her gently through the fabric of her underwear, teasing her clit with the pad of her thumb. Y/N's hips bucked, and she couldn't hold back a gasp of pleasure.

"You're so responsive," Emily murmured, her voice a low purr of approval. "It's like your body has been waiting for this."

Y/N could only nod, her eyes fluttering shut as Emily's skilled hands continued to coax pleasure from her. She had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable, and yet she had never felt more alive. The way Emily touched her, the way she knew exactly where to touch, was like nothing she had ever experienced before.

Emily's hand slipped beneath the elastic of Y/N's underwear, her fingertips gliding over the slick folds of her sex. Y/N's hips jerked in response, and she couldn't help the whimper that escaped her lips. Emily's touch was gentle but insistent, her fingertips exploring every inch of her, sending waves of pleasure crashing through her body.

Y/N's eyes snapped open as Emily's thumb began to circle her clit, the pressure building until it was almost unbearable. "Emily," she moaned, her voice thick with need.

Emily looked up at her, a smug smile playing on her lips. "Do you like that?" she asked, her voice a low, seductive whisper.

"Yes," Y/N breathed, her eyes wide with passion. "Don't stop."

Emily's smile grew, and she applied more pressure, her thumb moving in a steady rhythm that had Y/N's hips rocking against her hand. Y/N's eyes rolled back in her head, and she bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out too loudly. The tension inside her was coiling tighter and tighter, and she knew she was close to the edge.

Emily's other hand moved to Y/N's thigh, her fingers digging into the soft flesh as she applied more pressure to her clit. Y/N's legs began to shake, and she wrapped them around Emily's waist, pulling her closer, needing more of her touch. Emily's eyes never left hers, the connection between them as intense as the sensations building within her.

The pressure grew until Y/N felt like she was going to break apart. Then, with a cry that was half pleasure and half relief, she came, her body spasming under Emily's skilled touch. Emily didn't stop, though, riding the wave with her, her thumb still moving in slow circles as Y/N's orgasm washed over her.

As the tremors subsided, Y/N collapsed back onto the bed, her chest heaving. Emily sat back on her heels, her eyes never leaving Y/N's face. "How was that?" she asked, a hint of smugness in her voice.

Y/N could only nod, unable to form coherent words. The intensity of the orgasm had left her speechless. Emily chuckled, a low, throaty sound that sent another shiver down Y/N's spine. She reached up and brushed a strand of hair from Y/N's face, her touch gentle.

"I take it that was what you needed," she said, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

Y/N nodded, her breath still coming in gasps. "More than I ever knew," she managed to murmur.

Emily's smile grew as she leaned in to kiss her again, her hand still resting between Y/N's legs, her thumb idly stroking the sensitive flesh. "Good," she whispered against her lips. "Because I'm not done with you yet."

Y/N's eyes widened, and she realized with a start that she didn't want Emily to stop. She wanted more, needed more of this overwhelming sensation of being wanted, of being taken care of in such a primal, intense way. She kissed Emily back with renewed fervor, her hands moving to unbutton the other woman's shirt, eager to feel her bare skin against her own.

Emily's eyes darkened with lust as Y/N's shaking fingers worked the buttons, revealing a black lace bra that perfectly matched her own. Emily shrugged out of her shirt, letting it fall to the floor, and Y/N reached out to trace the line of her collarbone, her touch feather-light. Emily leaned into the caress, a soft sigh escaping her lips.

Y/N's curiosity grew as she explored Emily's body, her touch growing bolder. She slid her hand down Emily's stomach, feeling the muscles tense beneath her fingertips. Emily's breasts were full and firm, and Y/N couldn't resist the urge to lean in and kiss one, her tongue flicking out to taste the sweet skin. Emily groaned, her hand sliding down to cup the back of Y/N's head, holding her in place.

Their kisses grew more frantic as Y/N's hand found the clasp of Emily's bra. With trembling fingers, she released it, and the garment fell away, revealing her bare breasts. Y/N took one in her mouth, her tongue swirling around the nipple, eliciting a moan from Emily. She sucked and teased, feeling Emily's body respond to her touch.

Emily's hand slid down to Y/N's pants, her own urgency growing as she felt the heat of Y/N's desire. She tugged at the fabric, urging her to remove them. Y/N complied, lifting her hips to allow the pants to slide down her legs, leaving her in just her panties. Emily's eyes trailed down her body, taking in the sight of her in the soft light.

The black panties were damp with Y/N's arousal, and Emily's own desire spiked at the sight. She hooked her fingers into the waistband and slowly began to pull them down, her eyes never leaving Y/N's. Y/N's legs trembled as the fabric slid over her hips, revealing her sex to the cool air. Emily took a moment to appreciate the view before pressing a gentle kiss to the inside of Y/N's thigh, making her gasp.

"You're so beautiful," Emily murmured, her voice thick with lust. She kissed her way up Y/N's thigh, her tongue tracing the sensitive skin until she reached the juncture of her thighs. Y/N's breath hitched, and she spread her legs wider, inviting Emily in.

Emily took the invitation, her hands sliding under Y/N's ass to lift her slightly. With a quick flick of her thumbs, she hooked the waistband of her panties and pulled them down, exposing her to the cool air. Y/N's eyes closed as Emily's hot breath hit her, and she felt a jolt of anticipation.

Emily's mouth was a sweet pressure on her, kissing and licking along the outside of her sex before moving to her inner thighs. Y/N's hips jerked, and she moaned Emily's name, desperate for more. Emily took her time, teasing and exploring until Y/N was panting with need.

When Emily finally pressed her tongue to Y/N's clit, it was a jolting sensation that had Y/N's back arching off the bed. Emily's mouth was hot and wet, and she knew exactly how to apply the right amount of pressure to drive Y/N wild. Her tongue flicked and swirled, and Y/N's hands tightened in the sheets, her body tensing with every stroke.

Y/N's breathing grew ragged as Emily's mouth moved lower, her tongue delving into her folds, tasting her sweetness. Y/N's hips rocked in response, seeking more of that exquisite sensation. Emily's hands gripped her thighs, holding her in place as she continued her exploration, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin lightly, making Y/N squirm.

The sounds of their passion filled the room—the wetness of Emily's tongue against her flesh, the soft gasps and moans that Y/N couldn't hold back. Y/N's body was on fire, and she felt as though she was going to shatter under the onslaught of pleasure. Emily's touch was like nothing she had ever felt before, and she knew she was falling hard for the woman who was making her feel this way.

As Emily's tongue danced over her clit, Y/N's body grew taut with need. She could feel the tension coiling in her belly, the pressure building as Emily's movements grew more insistent. Her eyes opened, and she watched as Emily's head moved between her legs, her eyes closed in concentration. The sight was almost too much to bear, and Y/N's hands found their way into Emily's hair, holding her in place.

Emily slid a finger inside her, and Y/N's hips bucked upwards. The feeling was exquisite, and she never wanted it to end. Emily's finger moved in and out, setting a rhythm that had Y/N's body responding in kind. She added a second, and Y/N's breath hitched as she felt herself stretch around the new intrusion. It was a sensation she had never felt before, and it was intoxicating.

Emily's tongue never ceased its dance on her clit, and she felt her body tense as she approached climax. But just as she was about to fall over the edge, Emily slowed, pulling away slightly. Y/N whimpered in protest, but Emily just smiled up at her, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Patience," she murmured, before diving back in. This time, she slid a finger inside her, and Y/N felt something different—a spot within her that sent a jolt of pleasure through her body. It was like a button had been pushed that no one had ever found before. Emily's touch was unyielding, stroking that spot with a precision that left Y/N's eyes rolling back in her head.

The feeling grew, a crescendo of pleasure building deep within her core. It was as if every nerve ending in her body was tuned to Emily's touch, and she was powerless to resist the wave that was rising. Y/N's hips began to rock in time with Emily's movements, her body begging for more.

And then it hit her, a climax so intense it was almost painful, and she came hard against Emily's face, her muscles contracting around the invading digits. She cried out, her body shaking with the force of her release, and Emily didn't stop, her tongue still flicking against her clit as she rode out the orgasm. Y/N's vision swam, stars exploding behind her eyelids, and she felt as though she was floating above the bed, weightless and free.

But Emily wasn't done with her yet. She kept licking, her touch feather-light, the over stimulation sending aftershocks through Y/N's body. Y/N's legs tightened around her head, trying to push her away, but Emily was relentless, her mouth working Y/N's clit with a precision that had Y/N's toes curling. "Emily" she gasped, her voice a desperate plea, but her body was already responding, the pleasure building again despite her protests.

Emily chuckled, the vibration sending a fresh wave of sensation through Y/N's core. "You're so sensitive," she murmured, her voice a warm rumble against Y/N's thigh. "But you can take it, I know you can."

Y/N's eyes snapped open, her body still quaking from the aftermath of her first orgasm. Emily's tongue was unrelenting, continuing to flick and tease her clit, sending a fresh wave of pleasure through her. She squirmed under the relentless onslaught, her body already beginning to coil tightly again.

This time, though, something felt different. Emily's touch grew more deliberate, her strokes more focused. Y/N felt something building deep within her, something she had never felt before. It was as though every nerve in her body was converging on a single point, a pressure building that was both exquisite and unbearable.

Emily's tongue moved faster, pressing harder against her clit, and Y/N felt her body tighten even further. Suddenly, with a force that took her breath away, she felt a spasm of pleasure so intense it was almost painful, and she squirted, the warm liquid spilling out of her and onto the bed. The sensation was unlike anything she had ever experienced, and she cried out, her body shaking uncontrollably.

Emily's eyes widened in surprise before a look of pure triumph spread across her face. She had pushed Y/N to a new level of pleasure, and the satisfaction was clear in her gaze. She didn't stop, though, continuing to lick and suck, savoring the taste of her release. Y/N's legs tightened around her head, and she could feel the orgasm still rolling through her, her body spasming with each stroke of Emily's tongue.

Finally, when Y/N's body had stilled, Emily pulled back, licking her lips. "Good girl," she murmured, a hint of pride in her voice. Y/N lay there, panting and trembling, her body still reeling from the intensity of the experience. Emily kissed her way back up Y/N's body, her hands smoothing over the damp skin.

Y/N opened her eyes to find Emily hovering over her, her own chest heaving with the exertion. The desire in her eyes was unmistakable, and Y/N felt a new urgency within herself. She reached up and pulled Emily down for a kiss, tasting herself on the other woman's lips. The kiss grew more passionate, and Y/N could feel Emily's arousal pressing against her.

Breaking the kiss, Y/N whispered, "It's your turn." She pushed Emily onto her back and straddled her, feeling the heat of her desire pulsing through her own body. Emily's eyes darkened with need, and she nodded, her hands sliding up Y/N's thighs.

Y/N leaned down to kiss Emily's neck, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin, eliciting a gasp. She could feel the throb of Emily's pulse beneath her lips, and it only made her more eager to explore. Her hands moved to unbutton Emily's pants, and she felt the other woman's hips lift to assist her. The fabric parted, revealing black lace panties that matched her own.

With a smirk, Y/N slipped her hand inside, her fingers finding Emily's clit already swollen and begging for attention. Emily's eyes rolled back in her head as Y/N began to stroke her, mimicking the rhythm that had brought her to orgasm just moments before. The room was filled with the sound of their heavy breathing and the slickness of skin on skin.

Y/N's movements grew bolder, her curiosity driving her to explore every inch of Emily's body. She slid her hand down to trace the line of her hip, her thumb slipping beneath the waistband of the damp panties. Emily's hips rolled upward, urging her on, and Y/N took the hint, sliding the fabric down her legs. Emily's sex was bare, and Y/N couldn't help but stare for a moment, taking in the sight of her.

Without another word, Y/N dived in, her tongue eagerly lapping at Emily's pussy. She had never felt more alive, more in the moment than she did right now, with the taste of Emily on her tongue and the sound of her moans filling the air. She explored with reckless abandon, driven by a desire to give back the pleasure she had just received.

Emily's hands tangled in Y/N's hair, guiding her movements as she grew more and more lost in the sensation. Her legs fell open wider, giving Y/N full access to her body, and she couldn't help but push up into the other woman's mouth, desperate for more.

Y/N took her time, savoring every moment of this newfound intimacy. She had always been attracted to Emily, but she had never allowed herself to act on it, never dreamed it could be like this. Her tongue slid along Emily's slit, tasting her sweetness, feeling the muscles of her thighs tense around her head. Emily's moans grew louder, her body shaking with each pass of Y/N's tongue.

Emily's fingers tightened in Y/N's hair, guiding her to the spot that made her see stars. Y/N focused her attention there, her tongue flicking rapidly, feeling Emily's arousal build until she was sure she could come at any moment. But she held back, enjoying the power she had over her, the way Emily's body responded to her touch.

With a sudden jolt, Emily's hips bucked upward, and she let out a keening cry as she climaxed, her body tightening around Y/N's face. Y/N continued to lick and suck, drawing out the orgasm until Emily's grip loosened and she collapsed back onto the bed, panting heavily.

Y/N looked up at her, a satisfied smirk playing on her lips. "How was that?" she asked, her voice a smoky whisper.

Emily's eyes were still closed, her chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. "Incredible," she murmured, her voice barely audible.

Y/N kissed her way up Emily's body, her lips tracing a line from her thighs to her navel, her teeth scraping gently against the soft skin. Emily's body quivered with pleasure, and she could feel the heat radiating from her core. When Y/N reached her breasts, she took one nipple into her mouth, sucking gently before flicking it with her tongue. Emily's back arched, and she moaned, her hands moving to Y/N's shoulders to keep her close.

Y/N's teeth grazed Emily's other nipple, and she felt the other woman's breath hitch. She knew she had found a sensitive spot and took full advantage, teasing and nipping until Emily's moans grew louder. Her own arousal was building again, and she could feel her clit pulsing with need.

With a seductive smile, Y/N sat back on her heels, her eyes never leaving Emily's. "Ready for more?" she asked, her voice low and sultry.

Emily's eyes snapped open, and she nodded, her chest still heaving from her orgasm. She watched as Y/N slid off the bed and stood, her own body feeling alive with anticipation. Y/N stepped closer, and Emily felt a thrill as she realized what was about to happen.

They positioned themselves on the bed, legs intertwining as they slot together. The sight of their bodies, both flushed and glistening with sweat, was almost too much for Emily to handle. Y/N's thighs pressed against hers, and she could feel the heat of the other woman's desire. Their eyes locked, and Emily felt a jolt of arousal as she realized that she was the one in control this time. Emily's gaze travelled down Y/N's body, taking in every inch of her, from the swollen lips of her sex to the peaked nipples of her breasts.

With a growl of desire, Emily reached down and wrapped her hand around Y/N's thigh, pulling her closer. They rolled their hips together, the glide of their wetness sending sparks of pleasure through both of them. The sensation of Emily's slickness against her own was intoxicating, and she couldn't help but arch at the feeling.

Their bodies moved in a frantic dance, hips thrusting and grinding together as they sought more contact, more heat. Emily's hand slid up to cup Y/N's ass, guiding her movements, setting a rhythm that had them both panting and gasping for air. The room was filled with the slick sound of their skin moving against each other, a symphony of passion that seemed to echo in the walls.

Emily leaned in, her breath hot against Y/N's ear. "You're so fucking wet for me," she murmured, her voice thick with desire. "I can feel how much you want this."

Y/N shivered, her breath hitching at the dirty talk. "I do," she admitted, her voice a hoarse whisper. "I want you so badly."

Emily's eyes darkened, and she leaned in closer, her mouth against Y/N's ear. "Tell me," she demanded, her voice a seductive growl. "Tell me how much you want me to fuck you."

Y/N's breath hitched, and she felt a fresh wave of arousal wash over her at the raw, explicit words. She had never been talked to like this before, and it was exhilarating. "I want it," she managed to say, her voice trembling with need. "I want you to fuck me, Emily."

Emily's eyes gleamed with satisfaction at the admission. "Good," she murmured.

Their clits slid together, making obscene wet noises that filled the room, each movement bringing them closer to the edge. Y/N's hips rolled in a silent plea for more, and Emily responded by pressing harder, the friction delicious. The air grew thick with the scent of arousal, their breaths mingling as they both chased the peak of pleasure.

Emily reached up to pinch Y/N's nipples, rolling them between her thumb and forefinger, making Y/N's back arch off the bed. The painful pleasure sent bolts of electricity straight to her core, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out.

Emily felt the pressure building within her, the sweet friction of their bodies driving her closer and closer to the edge. With a guttural moan, she came, her body spasming with the force of her orgasm. Y/N felt the hot rush of Emily's release against her, and it sent her own climax crashing over her.

They collapsed against each other, panting and trembling, their bodies slick with sweat and desire. Emily's hand remained on Y/N's ass, her grip loosening slightly as she fought to catch her breath. Y/N's head fell to Emily's shoulder, her heart racing in her chest.

For a moment, there was only the sound of their breathing, the heavy thud of their hearts. Then, Emily leaned in and kissed her, a soft, lingering kiss that spoke of the connection they had just forged. Y/N melted into it, feeling something new and terrifyingly beautiful blooming within her.

They lay there, entwined, their bodies still pulsing with the aftershocks of pleasure. Emily's hand slid up Y/N's back, her fingertips tracing patterns on the damp skin. "You're amazing," she whispered, her voice hoarse from her own cries of pleasure.

Y/N's eyes fluttered open, meeting Emily's gaze. "So are you," she replied, her voice just as shaky. She couldn't believe what had just happened between them—how intense and raw it had been. It was nothing like she had ever experienced before.

They lay there, their hearts slowly returning to normal, the tension in the room morphing into something softer, more intimate. Y/N's hand slid up to Emily's neck, her thumb ghosting over the pulse point. "I've wanted to do that for a long time," she admitted, her voice a whisper.

Emily's eyes searched hers, seeing the raw honesty in the depths of her gaze. "Why didn't you?" she asked, her voice filled with curiosity and a hint of vulnerability.

Y/N took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling with the exertion of their passionate encounter. "I didn't know if you felt the same way," she confessed, her voice low and filled with emotion. "And I didn't want to risk our friendship, or our working relationship."

Emily nodded, understanding the gravity of what they had just done. But as she lay there, feeling the warmth of Y/N's body against hers, she knew that she had never felt more alive. "I've felt this way for a while too," she admitted, her voice filled with a hint of wonder. "But I didn't know how to tell you."

They shared a look that spoke volumes, their eyes locked in a silent conversation filled with desire and the beginnings of something deeper. Slowly, Y/N leaned in, capturing Emily's mouth in a gentle kiss that seemed to hold all the promise of the future.