#oh sounders

[transingthoseformers]

Bumblebee stare at Megatron, feeling very out of place. When he was captured by Soundwave on the battlefield, he expected to be thrown into the Decepticon brig and be tortured for information. But instead he was locked in Soundwave's arms, paraded around the hall of their base with a sense of smugness from the spy for a couple of earth minutes, like he was a prize. The other Decepticons were glaring at Soundwave than glaring at the capture Bumblebee, making him wonder what did Soundwave do to piss off everyone within the Decepticon army. Megatron voice bought Bumblebee back to reality, "Excellent work Soundwave. Take him to the room." Bumblebee spark sink in fear, believing it was time for his interrogation, and was ready to defend himself from whatever torture the cons will put him through. Instead he ended up stuck in a berth room, sitting on a table filled with energon sweets with Megatron on the other side of it. The berth room was painted in a soft violet colour mix with orange and yellow colour fancy details. Decorated with cybertronian toys, bright colours ballons, raining confetti and a banner popping out of the ceiling with the words 'Welome Home!' After Soundwave pull the string as soon Megatron enter the room. Megatron just gaze at him, as his servos twitch slightly. "Hello Bumblebee….You haven't touched your sweets…the food isn't filled with poison.." He reaches for a rust stick and eats it. Bumblebee reaches for a cup of sweet energon, sipping on it carefully just as Megatron smiles. Bumblebee place the cup back down after seeing the smile. "…I'm sorry…is this a Decepticon Trick?" Bumblebee mumble out. "What, no." Megatron Megatron glances at Soundwave unsure how to say this. Soundwave took over since Megatron is clearly too nervous to speak. "Soundwave:query: Bumblebee…do you know your carrier and creator?" Bumblebee raise a brow, "No, I was sparked right before the war fully starter. I was forged by Vector Sigma." Megatron click his glossa from Bumblebee's words while Soundwave stated. "Incorrected. Bumblebee's spark was kindled and place into Vector Sigma for your frame creation." "Oh….But that doesn't explain why…." Bumblebee optics widen slightly, "Oh….Oh….Frag." "Language." Megatron and Soundwave scolded softly. "Oh frag no! You can't tell me this and just expect me to roll over with it! I'm an Autobot!" "Former Autobot." Megatron stated with a grin as Bumblebee just glare at him. "You seriously think I'm staying here." Bumblebee protested slamming his servos on the table.

"You don't have a choice Bumblebee! I'm not returning you to Optimus and his Autobots.." Megatron scoffed at the thought of his sparkling being with Optimus, yet alone an Autobot.

---

Hope you enjoy this short fic, I'm just gonna leave it like this.

Cue to Megatron bonding with Soundwave to raise his unwilling son.

Soundwave: We should be partners. Megatron: You mean like, partners in crime? Soundwave: Yeah... that’s precisely what I meant.

Soundwave: Know why I called you in here? Megatron: Because I accidentally sent you a dick pic. Soundwave: *Stops pouring two glasses of wine.* Accidentally?

Soundwave: Bumblebee, I'm now in a relationship with your creator Megatron. Feel free to call me carrier. Bumblebee:....

Oooo! Oh Bumblebee's in for a wild ride, Megs is trying

Soundwave is also trying

This is such an image too

[vonlipvig]

'You will still be able to contribute until you advance the story or the event ends entirely.' when does the event end entirely? like what's the deadline? should i be getting into the coil already or is there time to get 5 things for the sake of it?

[bunny-banana]

i think my inability to write fanfiction was, hands down, the single funniest topic ive wasted multiple therapy sessions on

[moonstruckme]

Oh my god congrats on 7k!!! So so SO deserved in every way imaginable

Could I request apple pie prompt #28: dark lipstick smeared on a cheek with Sirius???

Thank you lovely!!

modern au

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 731 words

It’s embarrassing, how much time you spend in front of the mirror before Sirius arrives. You fix and fiddle until you’re nearly unrecognizable to yourself, until your face is a word you’ve said too many times and it’s lost all meaning. You started out with more eyeshadow than you have on now, then you’d wiped that off and tried out a lip technique you’d seen in a tutorial online. You’ve used one makeup wipe already, front and back and all folded up to get to the clean corners, and you’re honestly still not sure if what you’ve ended up with is decent or if you just can’t look at it properly anymore. You hope your dress is enough to distract Sirius if it’s horrid. 

You’re seriously considering wiping it all off and starting over again when the doorbell rings. Your heels click on the floor as you hurry to answer it. 

Sirius looks surprised when you open the door, as if he hadn’t expected to find you on the other side. “Hi,” he says. 

You smile anxiously. “Hi.” 

He’s wearing a suit, which you’d been expecting but bowls you over nonetheless. Sirius manages to make it look both formal and relaxed, his dark hair tucked behind his ear on one side and his jacket unbuttoned suavely. 

Remus claims it isn’t a big deal, this banquet his university is having, but it is. It is for Remus, because he’s receiving an award, but also (privately, selfishly) for you, because this is the first thing you’ve gone to with Sirius as his date. You’ve been on dates, and you’ve already met his friends, which he says was the important thing, but part of you is savoring the privilege of this. That he’d asked you to Remus’ event as his date. 

“Hi,” Sirius says again. He blinks at you, slow and hard. 

Shit. 

“It’s too much, right?” You take a step back from the door, hand itching for a makeup wipe. “I can take it off quickly, we’ll still have time to make it. I’ll do something simpler.” 

“No,” he says, “don’t change it, it’s…it’s nice.” 

You cringe at the hesitation in his tone. You catch your reflection in the mirror by the door, panicked and overdone, as you turn back towards the bathroom. “I promise it won’t take long. I don’t know what I was thinking, the lips are way too much.” 

Sirius’ fingers wrap harshly around your wrist, stopping you. “Don’t you fucking touch the lips,” he says. 

His eyes catch yours in the mirror. You’re frozen. Once it’s clear you’re not reaching for the wipe anymore, Sirius loosens his grip, fingers skimming up to your shoulder and toying absently with the strap of your dress. He looks almost caught in a daze. 

“Fuck.” He expels a breath. “I wish I could kiss you without fucking them up.” Your lips part in surprise, and Sirius closes his eyes like he can’t look at it. He compromises by dropping his lips to your shoulder. He kisses the bare skin reverently. “You look stunning.” 

Your heart hiccups. “Really?” 

You realize the second after you’ve asked that it sounds like you’re fishing for compliments, but Sirius doesn’t seem to care either way. He meets your gaze in the mirror again. 

“Very,” he says. His brows bunch as if in distress. “You’re killing me, gorgeous. I can’t decide whether to go to Remus’ thing and show you off or keep you here to myself.” 

You laugh. It dislodges some of your nerves. “We’re definitely going to Remus’ thing,” you say to him. “He’s winning an award.” 

“He’ll win other awards, won’t he? He’s brainy.” 

“I also didn’t get dressed up like this to stay in.” 

“Much sounder reasoning,” Sirius admits. He sighs dramatically. “Okay, but do me a favor and give me a smacker so those pretentious shits know we’re together, yeah?” 

You raise your eyebrows at him. “A smacker?” 

“A kiss, doll.” 

“I know what you mean,” you laugh. “You want me to get lipstick on your face right before this posh dinner?” 

“If it looks half as good on me as it does on you, sweetheart,” he gives a winsome crack of a smile, “no one will have a bad thing to say about it.” 

You decide it’s not worth arguing with him. Your dark lipstick looks very pretty on his cheek all evening.

[emelinstriker]

Shockwave ♤ Kiss The Spark

Might be my last TFP X Reader one-shot I'm dropping for now. I've got several other one-shots and even a full book that was in the works, but whenever I'll finish any, I have no idea.

[TL;DR] You really do be worrying your beloved cyclops scientist with the risks you take. And he finds it illogical.

♤ ~ Comfort ~ ♤

It was a lazy day for the two of you. Megatron was busy leading the Decepticon cause, as usual, and left Shockwave to his tools. Said mech was trying to work on basically recreating a predacon while you were watching him. It did make him a little uncomfortable with how you were basically staring at him, but he would never out right say it.

You were just supposed to be a random human he could study and experiment on after you were kidnapped by Knockout months ago. But now you were the lover of the warship's scientist. Basically his Conjunx Endura, and he did show some affection towards you while feeling some sort of emotion despite having undergone shadowplay. At first it felt like you were treated like a pet, which you technically were in the Decepticon's optic, but it was obvious he was lying to himself over time as you began to worm your way into his spark.

Despite the months of love and care, he slowly started neglecting you due to the cause being his main priority. Sure, he did give you food and your own box corner that felt like a small apartment, but his affection towards you decreased and you were missing it. You were missing the freetime you had and spent simply roaming around the Nevada desert whenever you landed. You wanted to relive that.

"Hey, Shocky?" He didn't bother turning around to face you as he continued working, not answering. But you knew he was listening. "When do you have time to hang out again?" You asked with a hopeful gaze at the back of his helm.

He ceased his movements for a moment, turned his optic toward you and said, "Most likely when I am finished with this project. I do not know how long it will take. It would be most logical of you to simply wait."

You frowned at his response and started to make your way towards the door. "Oh, okay... I'll leave you to it then..." The giant metal doors slid opened for you and closed once you passed the threshold. Shockwave knew you left but didn't bother stopping you as the project took priority. However, that doesn't mean he didn't feel more empty when you were out of the room.

And it finally seemed too much after two agonizing hours of not having you around him. He told himself he would do a quick check-up on you to ensure you were all fine. So, he left the project on his table before making his way to the bridge where he knew Soundwave would possibly still be with you.

Unsurprisingly, he was right. Well, half right. Soundwave was at the bridge, but you were nowhere to be found. Of course there had to be a reason for it, and who would know better than the slender mech himself. "Soundwave," the cyclops started as he approached the other working Decepticon, "where is (Y/N)?"

The TIC ceased his movements before typing away again, revealing groundbridge coordinates on the screen. The coordinates seemed to lead into town, close to a few stores but far away enough for a small groundbridge to go undetected. Soundwave turned his helm towards the mech behind him as he slightly lifted a servo at the screen to point at it. Shockwave gave him a puzzled look- Or at least as puzzled as one could look with a single optic for a faceplate. "Why did you send them there?"

Instead of answering with more movements, Soundwave decided to simply play a voice clip he recorded of you in your own words. "Hey, Sounders, could I maybe go to town? I need to see if I can buy some material for [...]. I know it sounds weird, but hear me out-" The audio abruptly cut of before you could explain any further. And there was information missing, most likely to keep whatever you were planning a secret from the scientist. It seemed illogical for you to be plotting something behind his back however. Thus he didn't question the TIC any further about the audio.

"When will they return?" Soundwave played another clip in response, "I'll call you when I got everything, alright? Shouldn't take more than two hours max."

And as if on cue, a sudden personalized ringtone rang out on the bridge with an image of you on the screen. Their optics glanced at the screen before Soundwave answered the call. You sounded like you were out of breath. And Shockwave was able to feel your anxiety through your bond.

"H-Heya, Sounders!" You dramatically exhaled a large portion of air before continuing in a rather quick way. "Please don't tell Shocky, but I kinda ran into some trouble and am being chased by a gang with weapons. I managed to escape unscathed, but I sadly didn't get some other things." You took another deep breath. "And as much as I wanna grab some extras, I don't think I'd be alive on my way back if I did that. At least I got enough for one."

As both mechs became concerned, Shockwave decided to speak up. "(Y/N), are you in a safe location? Do you require a groundbridge immediately?"

The voice caught you by surprise, but you were also a little relieved to hear him. "I-I'm not far enough from people yet. I'm across the street from the gang right now and they seem to have lost me. But there's an alleyway here." You then proceeded to walk down the dark alley. "I don't think there's a second gang in here so I should be-" You cut yourself off as you looked behind you with wide eyes. The fear you gave off reached the scientist instantly.

"(Y/N)? Are you alright? What happened?" Your sudden silence made them even more worried. The silence wasn't there for long though as harsh winds clashed with your phone, indicating that you were running.

"They found me! I-I can't run any longer! My bags are- are slowing me down! And they want my bags and my money! But I need them! And whAT THE FUCK- WHY?!"

Turns out the alley had a deadend.

The two mechs could faintly hear one guy say something, but it was inaudible. But they could hear one who was closer. "You're right. Why should we just take their belongings if we could have some fun with them as extra?"

While the cyclops was able to feel your hopeless anxiety already, the call managed to catch the sounds of your sniffles. You hiccuped as you whispered into your phone, "I need you, Shockwave." You usually weren't scared of most things- Hell, you made a giant alien robot fall in love with you and managed to befriend others on the warship, deeming them as family! And they wanted to cyberform the earth! But being in this situation, alone, far away from your family, with just some useless things you bought... It scared you.

And this was something that truly angered Shockwave for once. The fact that you used his actual name instead of a nickname told him how trapped you truly felt.

It sent him over the edge.

"Soundwave. Groundbridge to their coordinates. Now", he commanded firmly.

The masked mech, despite being kind of surprised by the taller mech's sudden show of emotions, did as he was told. The scientist didn't waste time in running towards the now open swirly green portal. He didn't even bother transforming and using his holoform.

These humans deserved to suffer.

By his true form's servos.

You were backed up into the deadend when you noticed a familiar green light pop up behind you. Out of instinct you moved aside as the gang stared at it, not knowing if this were special effects to scare them off. That's when you saw Shockwave step out of the portal. He took a moment to take in his surroundings before spotting you next to his pedes, shivering from shock, but still smiling up at him with teary eyes. "H-Hi, hun..."

"Go home, sweetspark. I'll meet you there."

He said. Then he watched as you somewhat clumsily sprinted through the groundbridge, two bags in hand, before he turned back towards the group of humans.

"It would be illogical of me not to dispose of lifeforms that pose a threat to my sparkmate."

What was mercy? In that moment, he couldn't recall.

While waiting, you were next to Soundwave, being comforted by his tendrils as you held onto one like a big teddy bear. Your bags were sitting behind you. Shockwave finally returned a few minutes later, groundbridge closing behind him. His servo and pedes were completely bloody. You also spotted a bit of blood on the rest of his frame- even a tiny bit on the side of his helm. He walked up to your still slightly shaken form. "Did they harm them in any way?" He asked the other mech, who previously ran a scan on you as safety precaution.

Soundwave responded with a simple "Negative" audio as he retracted his tendrils from you, now that your biggest comfort was here. You reluctantly let go of the tendril when a servo gently wrapped itself around you instead, picking you up. The purple mech didn't say another word to the shorter mech and simply walked off, all the while placing you on his shoulder pad. Sure, you were now a little bloody too, but you could just wash your clothes. While Shockwave felt the comforting relief through your bond, he still was upset about your reckless logic.

"You left the ship without my authorization or knowledge." Most would view his monotone yet commanding voice as a sign of pure anger, but you knew that he was actually worried sick.

"B-But I-" "You could have been hurt and I would not have been able to protect you. From now on, you are to stay on the warship if I'm.not accompanying you", he stated firmly, placing you on the table and coldly turning away towards his project.

Now that you were finally back in the lab, he wouldn't need to worry about you being hurt anymore, despite his spark not wanting to shut up about the slight bit of worry. However, due to you still being upset about the previous situation, you couldn't help but tear up again. You honestly didn't mean to make him mad and worried. He could feel it.

"I-I'm so s-sorry", you whispered as you hiccuped. "I-I just w-wanted to make y-you a gift..."

This caught the scientist's attention as his ear fins moved. A gift... for him? You went through the lengths of sneaking out(, despite Soundwave's knowledge of course), going to town alone, and running away from a street gang... just to make him a gift? So, naturally he demanded for an explanation for this stunt you tried to do.

You pulled your bags closer to your body as you sniffled, rummaging through one of them. "I-I bought materials f-for a self-made gift..." You then pulled out some purple fabric from the bag. Almost the same shade of purple as his frame. "I-It was supposed to be a plush toy version... of you..." A small, sheepish smile made its way onto your lips. The tears may have stopped flowing, but you still didn't feel quite comfortable in what you were presenting him. It wasn't even finished, after all. And you weren't even sure if he would like it.

"Giving me a toy version of myself is illogical." For a second, a frown replaced your smile. Thinking he didn't like the idea, you slowly starting lowering your arm in disappointment, wanting to put the fabric away again so he wouldn't have to see it.

"O-Oh, sorry... I thought-" "But, I appreciate the sentiment", Shockwave quickly added as he approached you with his servo. One digit gently trailed up and down your arm in a comforting manner. "You may still continue creating it. I am not stopping you." Him using a gentler, lower tone made you smile again. You wrapped your arms around his digit and lightly cuddled into it, saying a small "Thanks" in return.

You swore your Conjunx's optic was glowing brighter than usual.

You managed to craft a rather big plush version of Shockwave. You were able to wrap both of your arms around it and cuddle with it like a big stuffed animal. It was still severely small in the scientist's optic, but he refused to handle it any less gentle than you when picking it up. It was so much softer than you, which amazed him.

A few days after you finished up the plushie, Shockwave asked you to wait for him in his habsuite.

Turns out he wanted you to touch his spark again. It's been a long time since you've last done so, which was when you became Conjunx Endura just a couple of months ago. And due to the bond mostly being a one-sided receiving one, he wanted to show you how much he appreciated you in his life. And touching his spark was the only way for you to receive his side of the bond.

You're the only one he's ever shown his spark to in such an intimate light. And you could feel how much he adored having you be this close to him, touching the very culmination of his being ever so gently. You even gave his spark some light kisses, making him ex-vent.

Content with your moment together, he gently positioned his servo against your small back, pulling you a little closer down onto his chassis.

He wouldn't trade you for anything, not even his loyalty to Megatron and the Decepticon cause.

[ Masterlist ]

[zeciex]

The Wooden Cock, pt. 2

Warnings: Smut, (p in v), over stimulation, multiple orgasms, anal (female receiving; Use proper lube guys), oral (male+ female receiving), spitting kink, pussy slapping. Not proof-read. Summary: Aemond finds Daenera standing in front of the mirrors, and he decide to have her watch herself as he plays with her + then decides that it is time for her to try the wooden cock.

Aemond discovered Daenera positioned on a small dias in front of an half-circle of mirrors, enshrouded in the striking vibrancy of a red dress that embraced her form like a second skin, her cleavage on the brink of defiance. He observed her with a hint of amusement as she shifted for a better look at the dress, her fingers gliding over the lush fabric, a trace of dissatisfaction etching her features.

Around her, dresses were haphazardly dispersed, with swathes of fabric draped over furniture, creating a chaotic tapestry of colors.

“Indulging in a bit of dress-up, are we?” Aemond’s voice was tinged with amusement as he approached her from behind, a surge of desire to caress the luxurious material–and her–prickling at his fingertips. 

Daenera’s expression bore a hint of frustration as she watched her reflection, her hand trailing down the dress’s bodice. “I’m assessing which dresses might be repurposed…”

Her annoyance was palpable as she tugged at the bodice, an action that inadvertently accentuated the dress’s snug fit around her bust, causing a more pronounced overflow.

“It appears I’ve put on weight–it no longer fits,” she stated with a scowl. 

Aemond responded with a low hum, his fingers delicately tracing her exposed sounders, pushing aside strands of her hair with a touch that seemed to spark a trail of gooseflesh across her skin. 

“You’re still breathtaking,” he remarked, his voice a blend of sincerity and desire. 

Daenera’s response was an eye roll, a gesture that Aemond found amusing yet revealing of her underlying insecurity. She pivoted gracefully on the dias, brining herself directly in front of Aemond, their gazes locking, almost level. A playful yet pointed tone laced her words. “You only say that because you’re more interested in seeming me out of the dress. It’s quite the predicament, considering I have several more dresses left to consider…”

Her statement hung in the air, a blend of jest and challenge, inviting him to either dispute her playful accusation or admit to it. With a smirk, she pivoted again, turning her back to him. 

“I remember this dress,” Aemond’s responde was a soft hum, an acknowledgement wrapped in the warmth of his voice as he closed the distance between them. He positioned himself to observe her reflection in the mirror, his presence an assertive yet comforting shadow behind her. 

Gently, his hand found its way around her waist, gliding over the silk of her dress. The contrast between the softness of the fabric and the roughness of his calloused palm was stark, yet it added a layer of intimacy to their interaction. He allowed himself a subtle tug at the dress, watching closely for her reaction in the mirror. At his touch, Daenera’s posture subtly changed; her spine straightened, a breath caught in her anticipation, yet she maintained her poise. 

He wanted to ruin that poise. 

“Oh?” Was all she said.

Aemond’s voice was a whisper, a breathy utterance that caressed the soft skin of her shoulder, igniting a trail of shivers down her spine. “Yes, you were radiant at your welcome feast in this dress.”

His hand drifted further around her waist, settling with a noticeable presence over her bodice. His hand, broad and encompassing, seemed almost too large against the narrow frame of her waist, the pale skin stark against the red material. 

“You captivated the entire room,” he continued, his lips grazing the nape of her neck gently as Daenera instinctively tilted her head, granting him more access. A subtle blush warmed her cheeks, a visible response to his proximity and words. 

“You knew the power of this dress, how it clings to you like a second skin…” He applied gentle pressure on her stomach, drawing her closer against him, their bodies aligning with ease. “The way it accentuates your figure, barely containing you…”

His words, laced with admiration and desire, were designed to remind her of her effect on him. 

A spark of amusement lit up Daenera’s eyes. “You know what I recall from that evening? That I threatened you with a blade.” 

Aemond’s lips brushed the shell of her ear. “What was it you said? ‘If I burn, you burn.’”

As Aemond’s lips made contact with her neck, a delicate kiss that seemed to taste the very essence of her, he could feel the quickening pulse beneath the surface of her skin. Each breath she took seemed to draw deeper, her chest rising and falling more pronouncedly against the confines of the dress. He wanted nothing more than to free her tits, it was such a shame to keep them tugged away. 

“I remember your words about brining my ruin,” Daenera spoke, a tremor of anticipation in her voice as Aemond’s hand began its descent. The fabric of her dress did little to mask the warmth of her body as his hand pressed against her, moving with deliberate intention. When her hand caught his, guiding it with a firm pressure, the heat from her skin seared into his. “You spoke of ruin and consumption…”

“Do you want to be ruined?” He whispered, his breath a warm caress against her. 

Daenera’s retort was bold, laced with a mixture of defiance and challenge. “I doubt you could achieve such a feat, you are more like to be ruined before me.”

Her eyes locked with his in the mirror, a spark of provocation in her gaze. 

Aemond’s response was a husky drawl, his voice low and filled with an implicit promise. 

“Be wary,” he cautioned, the rasp in his voice hinting at the depth of his intent. “I harbor no reservation about bringing you to ruin, about consuming you so thoroughly that the dawn may find you unprepared for any arrivals…”

Aemond’s actions took on a deliberate pace as she began to gather the dense fabric of her dress, inching it upward to gradually unveil the lighter underdress beneath, and eventually the smooth expanse of her legs. His other hand ventured around her, ascending to encircle her neck gently yet firmly, anchoring her against him. The softness of her skin under his touch was intoxicating, and he noticed her subtle shift, leaning back into his grasp. 

Through the mirror, he monitored their reflection, the arrangement of the mirrors offering multiple viewpoints. The mirrors captured and reflected the expression on her face, her eyes heavy lidded, lips parting slightly in anticipation as he discovered her arousal, unmistakably evident along her inner thigh. 

Aemond couldn’t help but voice his discovery, a low hum of satisfaction vibrating through him. “Look how ready you are for me. One might say you’re already ruined, considering this eagerness.”

His exploration continued, his fingers tracing the contours of her, discovering the dampness and warmth that awaited him. As he encountered the delicate curls, the beads of slick clinging to them were an undeniable testament to her arousal. Delicately, yet with precision, he sought her most sensitive spot, drawing a sharp intake of breath from her as he made contact. She hummed his name so sweetly, as though it would save her from his teasing, her head turning away.

Aemond’s voice was a gentle hum, filled with an intimate tone as he carefully guided her gaze back to the mirror, ensuring their eyes met in the reflection. Her eyes burned with desire, the soft blush that tinted her cheeks betraying her arousal. With his hand gently encircling her throat, not constricting but holding her firmly, he could feel the rapid pulse beating beneath his palm–echoing in his own chest. 

“Look at yourself,” he murmured, his thumb slightly caressing her skin to emphasize his point. “Look at how wet you are, lusting like a whore.”

Aemond’s touch was precise and deliberate as he focused on the center of her pleasure, his fingers moving in calculated circles that gradually intensified. Another finger joined the first, spreading her out to capture the hood of her clit, slowly moving up and down, rolling the sensitive skin between them, coaxing a moan from deep within her. The sound was a melody to his ears, and he felt a shudder go down his spine. 

The effect of her body, pressed against his, was not lost on him; he felt the blood rush to his cock, felt how his trousers grew tight. The warmth of her body seemed to seep into him, dispelling any lingering cold that remained in his bones from the cool day. 

Lowering his mouth to her shoulder, Aemond allowed his lips and teeth to lightly graze her skin, a tender yet claiming gesture. He breathed in deeply, her scent enveloping him, a blend of lavender and the warmth of sunlit days. It was intoxicating, the essence of her being both sweet and invigorating, pulling him further into the moment. 

“Lift your dress,” Aemond instructed, his voice carrying a mixture of desire and command. “I want you to see how ruined you really are…”

Daenera responded not with words but with a silent, tension-filled gesture. She bit her lower lip, her hands clenching in the fabric of her dress and only that–a note of defiance in the way she stared back at him.

Aemond’s actions were deliberate, his fingers skillfully manipulating the most sensitive part of her, pinching her clit, causing a sharp intake of breath as her body instinctively responded. Her hips shifted back towards him, grinding against the bulge in his trousers. Aemond felt a shudder go through him, teeth grinding to keep his composure. 

He expertly rolled the sensitive nub between his fingers, applying just the right amount of pressure before suddenly letting go. The sudden absence of contact made her breath rush out in a mix of frustration and need.

“I won’t touch you until you follow my instructions,” Aemond stated firmly, his voice a blend of command and expectation. 

Leaning back, she allowed her head to rest against his shoulder in a gesture of surrender. Then, with a gradual, teasing motion, she began to lift the hem of her skirts. The initial reveal was slow, showcasing the graceful contours of her legs, the smooth skin of her thighs illuminated in the soft light, and the gleam of arousal smearing her inner thighs. As she continued, the fabric ascended higher, gradually unveiling the gentle swell of her hips and the tender skin below her navel. 

“Keep your skirts up,” Aemond hummed, placing a quick kiss on her neck before he withdrew. 

Stepping away from her, Aemond turned his attention to the chaos of the room around them. Among the array of dresses scattered about, one in particular caught his eye, draped carelessly over a high-backed chair. He approached it with a purposeful stride, lifting the chair with one hand while dithering the fabric of the dress with the other. 

With a calculated grace, he tossed the dress aside and maneuvered behind Daenera, placing the chair just behind the dias where she stood. He then settled himself into the chair, positioning himself in a way that would allow a clear view of the mirrors. “Come, sit.”

Daenera turned her head to look at Aemond, her expression marked by a crease of bewilderment between her brows. “Aemond…”

Aemond, with a decisiveness in his actions, leaned forward from his seated position. He reached out, his hands firmly grasping her hips, and with a gentle yet insistent pull, he guided her backwards from the dias directly onto his lap. The dress she wore rustled, gathering in the soft folds around them as she settled down. He then carefully adjusted her posture, encouraging her to lean back against him. His hands moved to her thighs, deliberately spreading them apart and lifting them to rest over the armrests of the chair. This positioning left her openly displayed to the array of mirrors before them.

Daenera’s embarrassment was palpable, her cheeks flushing a deep shade that rivaled the dress she was partially encased in. The dress, with its tight bodice, seemed to become even more constrictive with her arched position, seemingly  pressing uncomfortably below her navel and causing her breaths to come out in shallow bursts. The fabric strained against her, threatening to reveal more than intended–not that he would mind that. 

“Don’t like what you see?” Aemond inquired, his tone dripping with feigned innocence as he leaned in to place a tender kiss where her neck met her shoulder, his thumbs gently stroking the soft skin of her inner thighs. 

“Its… it’s not that, I can’t breathe,” she protested weakly, her voice lanced with a mixture of frustration and discomfort, a thin veil for her true feelings that Aemond easily saw through.

Without hesitation, Aemond eased her forwards slightly, his hands finding the half-tied laces of her dress. With a firm pull, he loosened the fabric by tearing the fabric, the seams giving way to the force of the pull, providing immediate relief and a dress in tatters. 

“Aemond” Daenera exclaimed, a mixture of surprise and reprimand.

“I will buy you a new one,” Aemond stated simply, his voice calming and reassuring as he guided her back against him, ensuring her comfort. His hands returned to the smooth skin of her thighs, prying her legs apart once more to have them rest over the armrests of the chair, his fingers exploring the sensitive, pliant skin of her inner thighs. Her complexion was a deep shade of red, which he found wildly amusing. 

“Look at yourself,” he instructed firmly, not just a command but an invitation to see what he was seeing. 

“Aemond,” Daenera’s voice carried a note of caution, a subtle warning laced within her call of his name.

Aemond’s touch was both gentle and insistent as his hands move up, kneading the soft flesh of her thighs, coaxing the tension from her body. His movements were deliberate, guiding yet holding her in place, encouraging her to face her own reflection. “Look at yourself.”

When Daenera instinctively turned her head away, Aemond’s hand shifted, firmly grasping her jaw. The curve of his palm rested just below her chin, his fingers pressing into her cheeks as he forced her head back towards the mirrors. 

Aemond’s free hand, not occupied with steadying her head, ventured through the coarse curls that covered her cunt, tracing slow, methodical circles around her clint. His fingers dipped lower, gathering the slickness of her arousal, before ascending once more to resume their circular motions on her, each touch more deliberate than the last. 

He whispered, his voice a low, husky murmur that seemed to vibrate through the air, “Do you feel that? Hmm? The way every part of you responds to the slightest touch?”

Her hands clenched around the folds of her dress, her breath quickening into rapid gasps, signaling her surrender to his caresses. Aemond’s desire surged, an acute ache pulsing through him each time she shifted, her body brushing against his, sending shocks of anticipation and pleasure coursing through him.

“Look at how wet you are for me,” Aemond murmured, his voice laced with an intensity that matched the fervor of his touch as his fingers delved between her folds, spreading her out for her to see the glistening center of her body. “Your cunt is weeping for me, wouldn’t you say?”

Daenera’s gaze, guided by Aemond’s, descended to where his fingers were playing with her, and a moan reverberated from her chest and into his. 

“See how you unfold, delicate as petals, so soft to the touch,” Aemond drawled, his voice raspy with desire. His fingers delicately traced the contours of her cunt, delving between her folds to tease the flesh, before venturing further to caress the entrance of her cunt, glistening with arousal that had begun to run down the valley of her arsecheeks. “Are you as sweet flower nectar?”

With a deliberate slowness, Aemond withdrew his fingers, glistening with her arousal, and brought them to her lips. “Taste yourself.”

The hand that had restrained her head eased its grip, letting his other hand take its place. He traced his fingers across her lips, painting them with her own arousal, which glistened under the soft light. As her lips parted slightly, in a sudden intake of air as he pinched her clit, he seized the moment to guide his fingers into the warmth of her mouth. He felt the soft caress of her tongue against them, her mouth enveloping them with a warmth that made his heart pound. 

A deep groan was drawn from him as she eagerly sucked on his fingers, her tongue dancing over them with delicate fervor. In that moment, his mind was captivated by the thought of her lips wrapped around his cock, the imagined sensation sending another shiver of desire through his body. 

With a hiss, he withdrew his fingers from the sanctuary of her mouth, trailing the wetness down her chin and neck, through the valley of her breasts, somehow still contained, and to her cunt again. 

Immediately, Aemond’s fingers delved deep into her, drawing out a loud moan that vibrated against his chest, a sound so profound it seemed to stir the air around them. Her body reacted instinctively, her legs twitching as she pressed two fingers into her tight, wet cunt, diving deep and curling them in a deliberate search for the place that would make her body sing. His other hand found its way to her throat again, not to constrict, but to feel the rapid pulse of her excitement beneath his palm, holding her firmly in place. 

“Watch as my fingers sink into you, see how eagerly you welcome me…” Aemond’s voice was a blend of command and admiration, watching her response to his movements, “See how greedy your cunt is, drawing me in as if never wishing to let go.”

Daenera’s response was visceral, her back arching, hips tilting to deepen his penetration as he momentarily withdrew only to surge forward once more. Her eyes closed reflexively, her expression one of pure abandon, her body tightening around him in a silent plea for more. 

“Keep your eyes on me, byka narys.” Little poison.

Upon her delayed response, he briefly withdrew his touch, only to assert his command with a gentle but firm tap against her cunt. Her body responded with a sharp intake of breath, a curse whispering like a prayer into the charged silence between them.

“Mmmmh,” she hummed, her lips parting as if to curse and praise simultaneously. Her eyes remained closed. 

Aemond’s hand met her skin once more, the sound reverberating through the room as his palm met her cunt. “Open your eyes–I want to see the depth of your blues.”

Her eyes fluttered open, meeting his gaze as he administered another slap to her weeping cunt for good measure. This time he soothed the sting with a soft caress of his thumb across her clit. His fingers brushed down to her entrance again, watching her carefully as he pushed two of his fingers back into her, slow and calculated, curling them to meet the warm, wet walls of her cunt. He watched her eyes flutter, half-lidded, mouth parted in a perpetual moan, all the image pleasure. With a set motion, he began to thrust his fingers in and out of her until her responses dwindled to nothing more than breath sighs and soft moans. 

As he leaned closer, his lips grazed the delicate curve of her ear, his whisper rough and intimate. “Look at you, so beautiful–taking my fingers so well.”

“Ae–Mmph, please,” she moaned, her gaze locked onto his, a plea laced with longing. “Please, ah–mph…”

“Begging me now, are we?” Aemond’s voice was a low hum, his thumb caressing her clit with each deliberate movement of his fingers inside her, the vivid sounds of her wetness echoing the room–squelching, a sound that satisfied him immensely. It was almost as sweet as her moans. Her walls fluttered around his fingers, altering him to her imminent release as her cunt clenched, trembling on the brink. 

“I want you to watch yourself as you reach your climax,” Aemond instructed, his own anticipation clear. He planned to witness every moment, to save it all for the time she would be out of his reach. 

“Mmm, please,” her voice grew more frayed and desperate, a near-whine that send a shiver of desire through him, his cock twitching painfully in his trousers, forgotten and in need. 

“Watch yourself,” he whispered softly, teeth grazing her ear. “And I’ll let you have it.”

Her gaze, initially uncertain, oscillated between his reflection and her own, finally resting on herself. In response to her compliance, Aemond intensified his efforts, his pace quickening as he thrust his fingers into her, curling them to reach that spot within her. Each thrust was calculated, designed to elicit a sharp intake of breath, her knees twitching as he brought her closer to the edge. There was something immensely satisfying to have her spread out before the mirrors, watching her face, her cunt, her state as he fucked her with his fingers. Concurrently, his tumb applied pressure on her swollen clit, brushing over it until she gasped and her body jerked. 

Her response was immediate and intense; her core tightening around him, drawing him deeper as if refusing to let go. A loud, prolonged moan escaped her lips, heralding her climax. Her cunt convulsed around his fingers, his palm covered in her wetness, as the waves of pleasure washed over her. 

Breathless, she fell back against him. 

Her head found a comfortable rest against his collarbone, a tender moment following the storm of passion. As he eased his grip from around her neck, his hand gently settled on her stomach, a gesture of intimacy. She turned towards him, her eyes sparkling with a blend of amusement and desire, the vivid blue striking against the dim light. Her lips hovered mere inches from his, a silent invitation hanging in the air. 

“I can feel you, you know,” she hummed, her voice laced with a breathy quality. “I can feel how hard you are.”

At her subtle movement, a deliberate wiggle that pressed the curve of her backside against the pronounced tension in his trousers, Aemond couldn’t help but hiss in response. The friction, the insinuation of her body against his, escalated the charged atmosphere between them. 

“Then get on your knees,” he commanded, his voice a mix of desire and anticipation. 

Daenera gracefully disentangled herself from him, her legs unfolding from the embrace of the armrests to touch down on the floor. As she stood, her dress cascaded around her form, settling into its place, somewhat askew. She took a moment to adjust the fabric, ensuring it draped her figure just so, before turning to face him. Leaning over, she positioned herself tantalizingly close, her breath mingling with his. 

With a daring flicker in her eyes, she closed the gap momentarily, her tongue tracing the smirk on his lips with a boldness that belied her delicate appearance, before retreating as she gracefully descended to her knees. 

Despite the tear marring the back of her dress, the bodice clung firmly, accentuating her form and offering him a captivating view of her cleavage. The softness of her lower lip, plump and tender from the bite of her teeth, drew his attention. He reached out, the pad of his thumb caressing the sensitive skin, while his other hand made subtle adjustments to alleviate the tension of his cock. He was painfully hard, the bulge of his trousers pronounced. 

Gently tugging at her lip with his thumb, he issued a single, commanding word, “Open.”

In response, Daenera complied without hesitation, parting her lips. 

Aemond shifted forward slightly, allowing a deliberate display of dominance as he spat into her mouth, then reclined into his chair, adopting a posture of ease. His legs were casually splayed as she observed her, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. He watched with a blend of amusement and anticipation, as she meticulously untied the fastenings of his trousers, liberating his cock into the cool air.

A deep, involuntary moan escaped him when his cock met the faint rail of hair that lined the path from his navel downward, and it intensified as her grip encircled him at the base. 

The intimacy of their shared saliva being applied to him, followed by the deliberate drag of her hand along his shaft, elicited a sharp intake of breath. The gentle caress of her thumb across the most sensitive tip of his arousal sent a surge of desire through him, rendering him painfully erect. Her movements were both teasing and methodical, as her hand traveled the length of him, applying a firm pressure that promised euphoria. 

“And what do you see?” Daenera hummed, a playful lilt to her voice. Her head tilted, as she watched him with a sweet, curious expression on her face, almost bordering on innocent–she was anything but innocent as her hand traveled the length of his cock, thumb brushing over the sensitive tip. 

Aemond’s gaze ascended from her hand, gripping his cock, tracing a slow path to the soft curve of her lips, then delving into the depths of her eyes. His eyes then flickered above her, to the mirror where he observed his reflection. As she began to stroke him, slow and deliberate, his response was visible: lips slightly ajar, the subtle prominence of veins along his neck, a testament to the fervor that coursed through him. His eye fell again to the mirror image of her on her knees in front of him, stroking his cock. 

“I see a princess on her knees,” he drawled, letting out a breath as her hand closed around the head of his cock. “Mmh, I see a good little princess, stroking my cock so well.”

Her lips tenderly brushed the very tip, parting gently to welcoming his cock into the warmth of her mouth. As she did, his fingers tightened around the armrests, the blunt tips of his nails etching faint trails into the wood beneath. The muscles in his thighs and abdomen coiled. Her mouth wrapped around him, sending jolts of pleasure through him. 

The sensation was exquisite, a blend of intense pleasure and forbidden desire, as she enveloped him with her mouth, defending onto him with a deliberate–almost cruel–slowness. Her large, expressive eyes lifted to catch his reaction, burning with amusement and desire. His self-control began to fray at the edges, betrayed by the release of a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, accompanied by a faint murmur of pleasure. 

It took everything in him not to buck his hips, to force his cock down her throat and fuck her mouth with abandon. 

Her movements became rhythmic, a gentle bobbing motion that allowed her to take him in deeper with each descent. With a delicate suction, she drew him further into the warmth of her mouth, her tongue tenderly tracing the underside of his cock. Where her lips could not venture, her hand compensated, moving in a synchronized dance to rise and fall, her grip firm and sure around him. 

He felt his grasp on control slip even further, his hand weaving into her hair, gently guiding her closer, further. The sensation was overwhelming, marked by the tension in his jaw and the involuntary gritting of his teeth as she swallowed around him, followed by a soft, constrained sound that seemed to reverberate into him. 

“Mmm, look at you,” Aemond drawled, his voice raspy and raw with desire. A sharp exhale escaped him, as her soft hum once again sent waves of pleasure coursing through him. The vibrations from her throat seemed tor resonated directly within him, threatening to undo him completely. “First you take–mmh, fuck, first you take my fingers into that tight cunt of yours–take them so well… mmph–mmh, and now you take my cock into your pretty little mouth, take it so… so good, mmmh.”

The sounds that filled the air, created by her lips moving along his length, offered a different form of pleasure. It was in the way her lips sealed around him, the tears in her eyes gathering into tiny droplets at the edge of her lashes–a sight that stirred something deep within him. 

“Push just a bit further; you can do this,” Aemond coaxed, guiding her to take him deeper, his mind a buzz with the sensations. Her other hand clung to his though, the fabric dulling her nails, yet her grip conveyed an urgency that resonated with the building tension. “You’re doing so well… a–a bit slower now, yes, just like that–careful, or I might just…”

A tremor coursed through him as she intensified her efforts, pushing him to the prink. In a moment of desperation, Aemond gently pulled her back, breaking the connection, her chin glistening with saliva. The smirk she offered him in response, lips red and puffy, was full of mischief–a silent acknowledgement of the power she knew she had over him. 

Aemond was not one to waste his seed on her mouth–instead he loved to bury himself as deep as he could within her tight, fluttering cunt and fill her up with his seed. He loved the sight of it spilling out of her, loved the way she squirmed as he used his fingers to push it back inside, not wishing to let a drop go to waste. And she knew this. 

Aemond surged forward, capturing her lips in a fiery kiss. His tongue explored the depths of her mouth, tasting his own essence mingling with hers. With a subtle shift, her hand departed from his cock as he drew her closer, the soft rustling of her dress adding to the sensual ambiance as she drew it up around them to straddle his hips. Her heated, wet cunt grinded against his cock, dragging her folds up the length in an impatient, greedy manner. Her hand wrapped around his cock against, guiding him towards her entrance. 

She descended onto him, her movements deliberate and hurried, rolling her hips with a sensuous rhythm. The exquisite sensation of her inner walls fluttering around him teased his sense, drawing him deeper into the abyss of pleasure and edging him closer to the precipice of release. 

His hands ventured beneath her skirt, finding the lush curves of her arse, to grip the flesh tightly, guiding her down on his cock. Aemonds hips began to snap up to meet hers, setting a rapid pace as he fucked her, the sound of flesh meeting flesh echoing in the room, underscored by the wet, squelching sound of his cock disappearing into her cunt.

A harmonious symphony of moans then filled the air, resonating from her throat into his, their breath mingling as their tongues explored each other’s mouths with an intensity that mirrored the fervor of their connection. 

“Ah, fuck,” Aemond gasped through clenched teeth, his body overcome by a wave of pleasure. His breath hitched as he felt the tension in his balls tighten. He gave another rough snap of his hips, then felt his release burn through him, his seed spilling into her welcoming warmth. In the throes of pleasure, his hips continued to move, thrusting upwards as her own hips rolled in unison until he reached his limit. 

With a sharp exhale, he rested his forehead against her collarbone, their bodies pausing for a moment in shared, breathless satisfaction. 

Daenera remained astride him, the delicate fluttering of her core continuing as they sat still, his cock remaining within her. She sensed the warmth of his release seeping around the base. Her hands lingered on his shoulders, tracing patterns on the light fabric of his shirt and brushing tenderly beneath his hair to reach the nape of his neck. Her fingertips danced along his skin, soothing and caressing as they both descended from their passionate peak. 

A tender kiss scorched a path from her throat to her jaw and finally met her lips, igniting a lingering sensation of desire. His hands, still firm and insistent, gripped the curves of her arse. 

Aemond rose suddenly, causing her to emit a surprised yelp as he carried her effortlessly across the room. He deposited her onto the bed, withdrawing from her as he did to. The air seemed to hum with the remnants of their fervor, and she felt the rush of cool air hit her wet core. 

She found herself entangled in a sea of crimson fabric, her skirts billowing and rising around her like a tempest. As she struggled to tame the unruly material, Daenera’s efforts unveiled Aemond standing by the side of the bed. His muscles flexed beneath the smooth, pale skin, as he removed his trousers, his half-limp cock swaying between his legs. He had already removed his shirt, leaving him on full display. 

He was beautiful, she thought, admiring him as his eye lifted to meet her gaze, burning with desire, a smirk playing on his lips. He prowled towards her, climbing over her to let his lips meet hers again in a fiery kiss, slowly tracing a path along the column of her throat as though to taste her pulse as it surged through her. 

“Have you not have your fill yet?” Daenera teased, her eyes fluttering in response to his attentions. His lips explored the sensitive curve of her neck, grazing it with his teeth in a tantalizing display of desire. He always loved to leave his mark on her–she knew this by how many times he had done just that. 

“I mean to ruin you,” Aemond responded in a husky whisper against her skin, his words sending a shiver through her. “Completely, and without mercy. I will claim you every which way I can.”

A renewed wave of desire surged within her, mingling with the remnants of their previous release, and she felt a trace of his seed trickle from her core. 

His nimble fingers deftly worked at the bodice, releasing one of her breasts from its confines. Without hesitation, he brought her nipple into his mouth, lavishing it with eager attention. Simultaneously, his hands made quick work of the ruined dress, stripping it away to expose her fully to his fervent desires, his eye roaming over her. His other hand seized her other breast, squeezing it firmly and rolling her nipple between his fingers, teasing the sensitive peak while he indulged in the other.

Daenera surrendered completely to the intoxicating sensations he inspired within her–his mouth, alternating between sucking and soothing with a flick of his tongue, all while his fingers toyed with her, bordering on the exquisite boundary between pleasure and pain. His long, silky hair cascaded over his shoulders, a tactical caress against her skin that drew forth a soft, wanton moan from her lips. 

His mouth transitioned to the other nipple, replicating the same fervent attention while his fingers continued their skilled manipulation on the one he had just relinquished. The peak glistened with his saliva, a testament to his devotion. 

“Aemond,” Daenera moaned, her fingers entrangling with his hair, soft and perfect. Her nails traced over his scalp before she exerted a tug. “Please.”

Aemond’s response was a throaty moan, his eye flickering before it locked onto hers with an intensity akin to a raging forest fire He withdrew from her nipple, only to capture it between his teeth, tugging lightly until she gasped, the pain merging seamlessly with the pleasure. 

Then, with a deliberate shift, he released her completely, tracing a trail of fiery kisses down her ribs and along her waist until he reached her hips. In a bold maneuver, he seized her and flipped her onto her stomach, deftly positioning two pillows beneath her hips to elevate them, leaving her enticingly on display once more–for his view only. 

With an amused and sharp smirk gracing his lips, he trailed his fingers up through her sensitive folds, finding her puffy and engorged clit–made so by his earlier attention. He asserted a playful slap against the sensitive nub sent a jolt of pleasure coursing through her, her fingers clenching in the sheets in response. 

His fingers dipped into her cunt, only to withdraw slick with her arousal. Leaning over her, he allowed his saliva to slip between his lips and onto her puckered hole, the sensation causing an electrifying tingle to cascade through her. 

“Aemond?” She hummed, arching her neck to gaze back at him as he circled his fingers around her tight opening, a shiver cascading down her spine. 

“I’ve had your hand, and…” He kissed her lips, in a quick peck. “And your mouth…” His finger descended to her throbbing core again, teasing the entrance. “And your cunt…” His finger slid up to her puckered hole, tracing the ring of muscle, smearing her own arousal and his spit. “You’ve had your way with me, now it’s my turn to explore this…”

He pressed a single finger inside of her, her ring of muscles tensed in response to the intrusion–unfamiliar, though not uncomfortable. Aemond leaned over her, allowing her to feel his weight as he gradually eased his finger in and out of her, working her loose. His lips traced a delicate path along the curve of her ear as he softly murmured, “Relax, that’s it…”

Aemond’s kisses traveled down her shoulders and traced the elegant curve of her spine, moving with deliberate slowness. “Spread your legs for me, dōna riña.”

Daenera willingly complied, parting her legs, her reward came swiftly in the form of his skilled tongue, which descended upon her glistening cunt with a hunger that left her breathless. She released a breathy moan as she felt his tongue explore her, latching onto her clit with such an ardent fervor that it stole her breath away. Simultaneously, his finger continued its patient work on her puckered entrance, coaxing her to loosen. The dual sensation was both strange and entirely depraved, and she reveled in every moment of it. 

Adding a second finger, Aemond introduced a slight burn that made her clench around him, a sensation eased only by his tender murmurs that followed each lick of his tongue. His tongue delved deeper, parting her drenched folds and plunging into her heated core, eliciting a symphony of pleasure from her. 

“Oh, gods,” Daenera moaned, her face buried in the softness of the sheets, a shiver rippling through her. “I–I’m so close, Ae–mmm…”

Aemond withdrew his fingers and moved over her, reaching for the nightstand and retrieving the wooden phallus. The dark wood appeared imposing, and though Daenera hesitated, she stifled her objections as Aemond planted a brief kiss on her lips. 

He trailed the smooth surface of the wooden cock through her folds, allowing it to glide over her engorged clit, now overly sensitive. The stimulation elicited mewls of pleasure from her, her back arching as her eager cunt fluttered around emptiness, yearning to be filled. Aemond continued to tease her, sliding the wooden phallus up and down her drenched entrance. His smirk was sharp as he watched her writhe beneath him, a silent plea in her movements, begging for his touch, for fulfillment. 

Once he deemed the wooden cock adequately slick, he directed it upward, moving it towards her throbbing entrance and then higher, to her puckered opening. Leaning over her once more, he placed kisses along her shoulder, letting her feel his weight and the throbbing heat of his cock against her inner thigh as he began to insert the wooden object. 

Daenera bit her lip in response to the subtle burn, her body adjusting to the new sensation. 

“You’re doing great, dōna riña,” Aemond murmured in her ear, his voice a soothing presence. “You’re handling it so well… look at you taking it with such grace…”

The wooden cock exerted a firm pressure from the inside, creating an unfamiliar but not painful stretch–a sensation that was more about fullness than anything else. A Quiver coursed through her, and she couldn’t help but release a loud, wanton moan, the sound filling the air, seeming to linger as it was followed by softer moans. 

Aemond leaned back slightly to admire her, then firmly gripped her hips, aligning his throbbing cock with her weeping entrance. He proceeded to enter her with deliberate slowness, the sensation overwhelming her sense–mouth falling open though no sound escaped her. 

“Gods, you’re so tight,” Aemond groaned. 

Her eyes rolled back as her breath was stolen, a shiver racing through her as her inner walls clenched around him. “Oh, gods! Oh–mmph, fuuuck…”

She felt impossibly full, her body going limp as waves of pleasure surged through her, cascading like a tempest. Her core contracted around his cock, eliciting a choked sound from this throat as his fingers dug into her hips. The muscles of her entrance tightened around the intrusion of the wooden cock, and she felt a pulse go through her. 

Drool escaped her parted lips and soaked into the sheets as her hands clenched into fists, experiencing the exquisite sensation of Aemond completely filling her before gradually withdrawing. 

Her entire body seemed ablaze, every nerve electrified as he established a rhythm, snapping his hips against hers. His balls slapped against her swollen, overly sensitive clit with each thrust, each contact sending a jolt of pleasure racing through her. The presence of the wooden cock intensified the sensations, her pulse seeming to echo around it, and with each collision of his hips against her backside, the vibrations seemed to resonate through the phallus. Her toes curled, tears welled up in her eyes as her body teetered on the precipice of release. 

“Please, please, please–mmhmm, p-please,” Daenera mewled and babbled, not knowing exactly what she was pleading for, her mind entirely consumed by the overwhelming sensation of his relentless thrusts, the friction against the wooden phallus nestled within her, and the rhythmic slap of his testicles against her. 

“It’s too much,” Daenera whimpered, her face partially buried in the sheets. She didn’t know whether she wanted him to slow down or speed up. 

“You can handle it,” Aemond assured her, his pace quickening as he thrust into her with an almost brutal fervor. 

“Please, Aemond,” Daenera groaned, her voice a plea as she surrendered to the intoxicating fullness of the moment. “I feel so full, it feels so good—I can’t take it much longer.”

Daenera teetered on a perpetual precipice, toing the verge of release, but unable to tumble over the edge. 

Then, Aemond’s palm landed against her supple flesh with a resounding slap, igniting a burning sensation that reverberated through her entire being. In that electrifying moment, she plummeted headlong into the sea of pleasure, a gush of release surging from her core as her inner muscles tightened impossibly around him. She released a loud, breathy moan that bordered on a fervent mewl, her body jerking in response to the overwhelming pleasure. 

Aemond let out a deep grunt as he emptied himself into her for the second time, his thrusts faltering briefly before resuming with diminishing force. Warmth spread through her as both their releases mingled and trickled down her legs. 

A shudder coursed through her as Aemond placed a gentle kiss on her spine, then slowly withdrew the wooden phallus. 

“You did so well, byka narys,” Aemond commented, his hand tenderly brushing over the back of her head. He slowly turned her face over, allowing her to breathe freely. Her eyelids drooped, tiny droplets of tears clinging to her long lashes, her lips slightly parted as she continued to pant. 

Her entire body hummed with a lingering buzz, an occasional tremor coursing through her as the bed shifted beneath them. It felt as though her bones were no longer bones, but instead something pliant, capable of bedding in any direction. Exhaustion wrapped around her like a comforting blanket and her eyes fluttered as she felt the gentle touch of a damp cloth wiping her down. 

Then, she was carefully cradled in Aemond’s warm embrace, drifting into slumber to the soothing beat of his heart.

Say thank you to @kckt88 for inspiring me to write this and help me come up with the whole thing <3 You're far too convincing lol

[amratjesus]

obsessed with big bad piglin brute Techno seeming so scary and he's for SURE the leader of his sounder no way anybody has authority over him

and then 5'5 bird man Phil glares at him bc Techno growled at him for some dumb reason and Techno is immediately like oh sorry dad my bad ily dad pls don't be mad I'm sorry

[achromatophoric]

Yoko: Skrrrt. Back up. You sure this story isn’t gonna get spicy?

Enid: It’s not! She was just naked on her bed and there was Thing—

Yoko: Not liking where this is going.

Enid: Oh ew! No. Thing was like, on the desk using Willa’s pre-phone.

Yoko: What?

Enid: You know, goes bee-beep beeep bee-beep? *mimes tapping something*

Yoko: … a telegraph?

Enid: That! So after I put down my stuff, I asked her what’s up. You know what she said?

Yoko: *in monotone* I require silence for my masturbating hour.

Enid: Shut up! That’s not funny.

Yoko: Aw c’mon, not even a Willa bit?

Enid: *snorts* Oh fuck off. Anyhow, as I was saying.

Yoko: Right. You may continue.

Enid: So! She said was curious about camming and like, decided to give it a shot.

Yoko: What the shit! With a telegraph? But what was Thing… *gasps* NO! Are you telling me that Thing��

Enid: Was describing the scene to viewers. Listeners? Whatevs.

Yoko: In. Morse. Code.

Enid: Mm hm!

Yoko: Girl, your bitch is out of pocket af.

Enid: *beams* Isn’t she just?

Yoko: So she really has an audience, huh? I wonder who the F would pay for that…

Somewhere in another state, a figure breathes heavily as they hunch over an antique telegraph sounder.

Joel Glicker: *scribbles one-handed* … h-e-r pause. L-e-g-s stop. Oh my god, she is so fucking hot!

[lets-try-some-writing]

Do we think Sounders could vaguely sense the trio talking or arguing? If so ouch that's one colossal (get it?) migraine

Unicron,Moon:*arguing*

Soundwave a telepath: *"this is fine" meme*

Oh RIP Soundwave. Yeah I can see this happening after Unicron's almost awakening. Following that whole debacle, Moon would be FAR more chatty and eager to mock Unicron to the pits and back for being beaten by a Prime again.

Soundwave shall know no peace with Moon cackling and sending threatening messages to Unicron. I bet for him it's like getting bits and pieces of mafia orders and that's about it. He has no clue what the context for the conversation is, but sometimes it is terrifying.

Moon: *something incomprehensible* -I would rather die in her arms than let her suffer under you.

Soundwave: Primus below give me strength.

[transingthoseformers]

And, naturally, Soundwave has lost privileges of the four mecha's shared braincell

[applejuicefruit]

Can you write about being pregnant with Kylian’s baby and him telling you that you couldn’t have this kid right now because he was focused on his career? Like some angst please ❤️❤️❤️

angst with some fluff i think, reader and kylian are both wrong in this one!

thank you for requesting this one!

kylian mbappe x reader

tw: pregnancy

Bad mistakes

You had no idea on how to break the news to Kylian. This wasn’t definitely supposed to happen, not now at least. You were still in college, studying for your law degree while your boyfriend was focusing mostly on his football career. He had time only for football and you. Nothing else. But here you were, sitting on your bed with a positive pregnancy test in your hands. You knew Kylian wanted to have a family, he always talked about how he loved kids and how he was very good with them but a kid of your own? Now? You didn’t exactly talked about that.

You heard the front door opening and Kylian calling your name.

“I’m in the bedroom” you shouted, waiting for him to appear on the door. That’s how it went.

“Hey you!” he said laughing but became more serious when he noticed your look “what’s going on?” he asked, taking a few steps toward you. You remained silent.

“Baby?” he asked again sitting next you on the bed. He couldn’t see what you were holding but he knew it was something serious by the way you were squeezing it.

“We have to talk…” you said not being able to look at him in the eyes, your voice cracking a bit.

“Okay?” he sounder worried. You had no idea how to tell him about the pregnancy so you simply showed him.

“Is that-?” he asked, already knowing what that was.

“Yes…” you said, a few tears falling from your eyes

“Oh-okay…” he said, taking a few breaths, definitely not the news he was expecting “how, what do we do?” he asked looking at you.

“I don’t know…this is so…how did it happen? I mean we’ve always been careful…” you wondered and he simply shook his head.

“I don’t know…” he said “you know that a baby now would be a lot…I mean with my career…” he said but you stopped him. Was he being serious?

“Your career? What it has to do with your career? From what I see I am the one pregnant, not you!” you said, slightly mad. Hormones already?

“I mean that taking care of a baby would take away a lot of time from me…” he said trying to justify himself but truth was he was only shocked and had no idea on how to react.

“I can’t believe you’re saying this…” you stood up shaking your head.

“What?” he asked getting irritated.

“The only thing you can think about is your career! Did you forget I’m the one who has to sacrifice everything from now on for at least the next three or four years? I’m the one who’s pregnant, not you! Stop revolving everything around you! Your career would continue as always!” you shouted.

“It took me a lot to get where I am now and I don’t want to lose everything! Not now!” he screamed back, definitely not understanding your point of view.

“Here we go again…I can’t believe you’re so self centred you can’t think about someone else for once! What about me? What about my studies? My career? Kylian, you don’t get it do you? I’m the one who’s gonna sacrifice everything for this baby!” you said trying to calm yourself down a bit, tears streaming down your face.

“Y/n…I’m not ready to have a kid. Not now…I’m sorry…but I can’t have a kid now, and as I can see you can’t either…” he said.

“What are you saying?” you asked a bit confused about his behaviour.

“I’m saying I don’t want this now! Why this had to happen?” he asked, almost blaming you for getting pregnant.

“You know it takes two to tango! You did your part too in this!” you screamed “but if you don’t to be a part of this I get it, your career over everything else, but I’m keeping the baby and this is the end of the discussion…and the end of us” you said with a stern look on your face.

“I-I think this is the only right decision…I can help you with support and money but at the time I’m not…” he said but you stopped him again.

“I get it! You’re not ready to be a father!” you said back “plus…I don’t want your money, I don’t need it” you lied, you needed his money to help you raising a kid, especially now that you wouldn’t be able to work due to your pregnancy “if you’re out of this, you’re out completely and that’s final” you said and he nodded. You couldn’t believe he let you go like this, not even fighting for you.

You moved out of his apartment a few days later and went back to staying with your mother. Your mother raised you all by herself so she knew what you were feeling. You were so lucky to have someone like her by your side, she gave you back your room and set the guest bedroom as the new nursery. She enjoyed painting and buying mini clothes for the mini you. Yes, you found out only in the fourth month that you were expecting a baby girl. You already imagined here looking completely like Kylian. He never tried to reach you or to even see if you were doing okay.

His family tried to contact you so many times you had to block them, and that hurt you. His family always treated you like you were one of them, his brother Ethan loved you and always pulled pranks on Kylian with your help.

You missed them but you couldn’t let them in.

Neymar tried to reach you too. You became very close friends but you blocked everyone that you had in common with Kylian. You were alone in this, just you and your baby. And your mom of course. And your only best friend who already planned your baby’s first birthday.

You were now seven months pregnant and you were always so tired that you slept almost everyday. Your mom usually massaging your back and feet, your best friend reminding you that you needed to keep your body in movement so she always helped you taking daily walks in your neighbourhood.

One day you were currently on the couch watching some TV and eating some cherries when you heard the door bell ring. You were only wearing one oversized t-shirt and your underwear because even if it was December you were feeling hot. You lazily got up from the couch and went straight to open the door, cursing your mother to leaving you home alone.

You didn’t even look of who it was and you simply opened the door.

Kylian was there, looking worse than ever. You kinda enjoyed when Argentina won the world cup, you thought “Karma’s a bitch”.

“Hi…” he shyly said.

You didn’t even reply, still mad at him for how he treated you seven months ago.

“Can we talk please?” he asked you.

“No.” you said with no emotions.

“Please…aren’t you cold?” he said when he looked at what you were wearing.

“No it’s the hormones, you would know it if you were here” you said back.

“I know…I’m so sorry…” he said looking guilty.

“For what?” you asked.

“For everything. For the way I treated you. For the way I let you go. For the way I wasn’t here when you needed me…I just, I’m a completely idiot!” he explained

“Yes..you are” you agreed with him.

“Please…let me make it up to you…I was a completely idiot, I gave up the most important thing in my life…” he said.

“What? Football?” you asked ironically.

“You…you are the most important thing in my life…please, let me in…” he said.

In that moment you started thinking about how much you missed having a father during your childhood and it didn’t matter how much good your mom was, always making sure you were safe and healthy, you always missed having a paternal figure in your life and you couldn’t put your baby through the same pain you’ve been through.

“Fine…you can be in her life, but don’t think I have forgiven you, it would take time…you hurt me, fuck, you hurt me so much Kylian! You left me, here, twenty two and pregnant! Did you think it was going to be easy for me? You left me…because oh my gosh your career was more important than your daughter! You can be in her life if you don’t deserve it, but she needs a father but don’t think I’ll let you in back so easily…I won’t be moving back to your place…not every after the baby’s born, I’ll stay here where I feel I belong…” you said, never leaving Kylian’s face.

“Okay…wait her? She’s a she?” he asked and you nodded. Kylian feeling his eyes getting glossy “I can’t believe it…I missed so many things…how are we gonna raise a baby if we’re not living together? At least come back home, you don’t have to sleep with me but having you there would be easier and” you stopped him.

“No. I’m still mad at you and it will take a lot before I’m okay again…we’ll co-parent…a lot of couples do that…” you said.

“But I” he started talking again but once again you interrupted him again.

“We’ll do co-parenting and that’s final, if you’re okay your in, it you don’t that’s the door” you said.

“Okay, it’s okay” he said and you nodded, letting him in the home, showing him the nursery, the pictures you took while pregnant, the first ultrasound you did. He was getting very emotional and you loved seeing that side of him.

You knew that even if you weren’t a couple anymore he would always be there for you and your baby.

[hayleythecannibal]

Twisted Minds: Act II- Chapter Nineteen Futamono

TW: Crime scenes, Gore, Implied Death, Death, Talks of Attempted Murder/Assassination, Cannibalism, SMUT!!!, PnV, Oral(Fem recieve), Cheating

Warning this is Fem!reader. You can also find this on Wattpad and A03 under the name @HayleyMarieOfficial. Comment if you want to be added to the taglist.

Taglist: @punkin-time @miaowkitty @gabriella-aesthetic @urlocalfanficwriter @dilfdemolisher

Twisted Minds Masterlist

“You're moving smoothly and slowly, Jack, carrying your concentration like a brimming cup.” Will says as Jack approaches his cell. "Hannibal Lecter, And Y/N were almost murdered by an employee of this hospital. An attendant we believe killed the bailiff and judge in your trial." Jack says with a cold tone. "He killed the bailiff. He didn't kill the judge. That was the Chesapeake Ripper." Will says standing when jack comes into view. "You know this?"

"He told me."

"And then you told him to kill Hannibal Lecter and Y/N. "

“Wait did you just say Y/N? Nothing I said made that happen, Jack. It just happened. Is Y/N okay? Please tell me she's okay Jack.” Will says panicked about his Girlfriend. Does she think he had her killed? Are her Injuries life changing?

“Y/N is okay. Few deep cuts and lacerations. Some blunt force trauma. But overall she’s out of the hospital and stable. But you dont seem as broken up about Hannibal as you do for Y/N.” Jack says as he watches the curly haired man panic. 

“There is a common emotion we all recognize and have not yet named. The happy anticipation of being able to feel contempt. I love Y/N. I would never. Wish her harm.” Will says seriously. “You have contempt for Hannibal.” Jack says, its no a question its a statement. “I have contempt for the Ripper. I have contempt for what he does.” Will says as he starts to pace. 

“What does he do, Will?” Jack asks, curious to what the man will say. “What does he do? What is the first and principal thing he does? What need does he serve by killing?” Will says with a chuckle, not a funny chuckle, but one of irony.

“He harvests organs.” Jack says confused. 

“No. That's only the action of what he does. Why does he need to do? The Ripper kills in sounders of three or four, in quick order.  Do you know why? I know why. Y/N certainly knows as well.” Will is confident in his thinking because it's the only option. 

“Tell me.” “Because if he waits too long, then the meat spoils.” Will says as he steps closer to the bars. “He's eating them? Hannibal Lecter is Garret Jacob Hobbs? A cannibal?” Jack says, its almost humorous. Comparing Hannibal to Garret Jacob Hobbs. Its comical. Its like comparing a Lion to a leopard. One hunts for fun while the other Hunts to eat. And the eating is just the dessert for Hannibal. The main course was the hunt.

“Not like Garret Jacob Hobbs. Hobbs ate his victims to honor them. The Ripper eats his victims because they're no better to him than pigs.” Will says, oh how he wished to be at home with His dogs and Y/N. Hannibal would most likely try to turn her against him. But Will knows that would never happen. Y/N is a lot smarter than she looks, she always has a plan. Always thinking. “With the exception of Beverly Katz, there's no connection between Hannibal and any Ripper victims.” Jack says, “No immediate connection. He likely identifies his meals years in advance, earmarks them, then waits with the patience of a python.” Jack looks at Will in frustration.

“Hannibal Lecter is not the Chesapeake Ripper.”

“Who else do you know with unusual culinary tastes? If the Ripper's killing, you can bet Hannibal Lecter's planning a dinner party. You and I probably sipped wine while swallowing the people we were trying to give justice, Jack. Who does he have to kill before you'll open your eyes?” Will says, but we all know who. 

HANNIBAL LECTER'S HOUSE - KITCHEN - NIGHT-

Y/N watches Hannibal cut the heart into morsels for the skewers. We can see the bandages on his arms as he cuts. He scrapes pieces of meat into a bowl of marinade, one by one.

“Funny how we revere and romanticize a simple pump. Merely a muscle. Yet such a potent symbol of life and the things that make us human, good and bad. Love and ache.” Hannibal says as I take the pieces of heart meat from the marinade and skewers them with pieces of vegetables between each morsel. The bandages around our arms bind us together in our experience. “All of them skewered.”  I say, the irony honestly.

“It's a thematic dish. My heart certainly feels skewered.” Hannibal says as he turns to me.

“You have the scars to prove it.” I say as I touch the marks on Hannibal's neck where he was hanged. As he grips my Forearm softly, careful not to hurt me. He admires the bandages that cover my sutured arms. “So do you, I feel as though that noose were still around my neck. It's strange to have nightmares. Never used to.” He says as he grazes my hand with his thumb. The nightmares. Mine are different from his. I killed a man. Yes, he wouldve killed me and Hannibal but its different. Its been so long since i shot someone. Almost 12 years since I Killed, Took my first life.

“Don't make the mistake I've made.” I say softly, “Which is?”

“Being your own psychiatrist. I'm always psychoanaylzing myself. Its always one step forward and three steps back.” I say as i stare at our matching wrappings. “It's the safest course. I'm metabolizing the experience by composing a new piece of music.” He says as he sighs. 

“Harpsichord or theremin?” I ask politely,  “Harpsichord. Stravinsky said, "A true composer thinks about his unfinished work the whole time; he's not always conscious of this, but he's aware of it when he suddenly knows what to do." Hannibal says fondly, “Do you know what to do?”

“I need to get my appetite back.” He smiles at her and raises his glass. Sips red wine.

PARKING LOT - DAY-

the man-tree on the horizon, asphalt stretching toward. a PD CRUISER, then another, an AMBULANCE and then an FBI CRIME SCENE VAN. An ever-increasing cordon of flashing lights and POLICE OFFICERS. Finally, a BLACK SUV rolls in.

Jack takes in the scene. Looks at the tortured figure built into the tree, his frozen scream. JIMMY PRICE and BRIAN ZELLER are starting to assess the tableau. They talk. Jack just stares. “He's been literally grafted in place -- these are living roots.” Jimmy says in awe of the Rippers artistry. “He's got varicose vines. Threaded through from his heels, under his legs, his back, through his torso and out his fingertips. Followed some pretty tricky endoscopic surgical paths.” Zeller points out. 

“Chesapeake Ripper usually cherry- picks his organs. He took every last one. Except for the lungs.” Jimmy says as he hears a car pull up, A black SUV.  “Stocking his shelves.” Zeller says turning his head to look at the car.

“There'll be something about the lungs. Why else leave them?” Jack says as he  steps forward and looks at the corpse. The artfully-arranged flowers. It offends him. “The time he devotes to what he does. He takes real pride. Belladonna for the heart, a chain of white oleander for the intestines, ragwort for the liver.”

“The flowers are all poisonous.” I say stepping on scene. The looks i get are ones of surprise. “This is judgment. Ripper believes his victim was toxic. A poisonous man. Who is he to moralize?” I continue, It feels weird to be back so soon but I have lives to save. I watch as Jack stares at the body like it speaks just to him.

“He's the eye of a storm. Working in a place of calm while the winds blow us all over. He's so damn certain, it makes me sick.” Jack says as he turns to me, I give him a soft smile. I know hes been through a lot lately.

BAU - MORGUE - DAY-

Standing on a foot ladder, Brian Zeller runs a small CHAINSAW through the branches rising out of the Tree Man's head.  Y/N L/N, Jack Crawford, and Jimmy Price  All wearing PROTECTIVE EYEWEAR, speaking over the chainsaw BUZZ. “His name is Sheldon Isley. Baltimore city councilman.” Jimmy says as Zeller ceases chainsawing to add: “Ripper's a politician now.”

“At least a conservationist. Five, six years ago, Isley brokered a woodlands development deal despite the disapproval of the EPA.” Jimmy says, he himself is a conservationist. “Councilman Isley paved paradise and put up a parking lot.” Jack shrugs. “What he paved was an important nesting habitat for endangered songbirds. The son of a bitch.” Jimmy says as we watch  Zeller reach into the branches and pulls out a nest.

“Autopsy gave us what you'd expect from the Chesapeake Ripper. Pre-mortem surgical dissection, latex glove impressions, body posed before rigor set in.” Zeller says, and I nod, the veins in the legs clearly well- at least to me. Point out the cause of death. Drowning. “What have those lungs coughed up?”

“Water. Councilman drowned. Lungs are filled with aspirated water.” Zeller points out the Tree Man's legs. I smirk internally, still got it. Today I’m alone on this case, well besides jack. “He was standing in water up to his thighs for forty-eight to seventy-two hours prior to his death.”

“To feed the tree?”

“It's possible.” Zeller says as Price guides Jack to a microscope with a video feed. “Here's the exciting part. Tree Man actually bears fruit.” A PLASMA SCREEN: Curious, geometric single-cell creatures flick back and forth. “Diatoms. Unicellular colonies. Good as fingerprints. No two water sources have the same diatom population.”

“The water in his lungs gives us a location of death. Show me.” A map of Virginia. “Fifty-mile radius -- here.” He traces a circle in the Virginia woods. Jack stares at it, contemplating his next move.

BSHCI - WILL GRAHAM'S CELL - DAY-

“You understand the reality of Beverly Katz's death. You understand your role in that.” Hannibal asks the emotionless Will. “What was my role?” Will tilts his head in question. “Beverly died at your behest. You're as angry with yourself as you are with whoever murdered her.” Hannibal claims.

“Actually, I'm not. I'm singularly angry at whoever murdered her.” Will says confidently.  “You tried to kill me, Will. It's hard not to take that personally. However, if I were Beverly's murderer, I'd applaud your effort.” Hannibal says, He knows how to hurt Will. He wont hurt someone per say but it will Anger Will. “I'm no more guilty of what you've accused me of than you are of what I have accused you of.” Will says Defiantly.

“Jack Crawford believes you were responsible.” Hannibal says almost in a reasoning sense. “Where does responsibility begin and end, Dr. Lecter? With a final act or the events that led to it?” Will asks with a raised brow. “I don't expect you to feel self-loathing or regret or shame. You knew what you were doing and you made your own decisions. Decisions that were under your control. And they got someone you love Hurt. “ Hannibal says in a darker tone. 

“You think I'm in control? I would never Hurt Y/N. Not Intentionally.”

“I think you're more in control now than you've ever been. You found a way to hurt me, Will. I wonder how many more people are going to be hurt by what you do.”

“I'll give Y/N your best.” It's a veiled threat and they both know it. “Good-bye, Will” He turns his Back to Will, not amused...

BAU - MORGUE - DAY-

TECHNICIANS wheel a sheet-covered body into the morgue where Tree Man now lies on a gurney.

Another gurney is wheeled into the swiftly-filling space. Zeller and Price waiting to receive it.

Jack Crawford watching this escalation of bodies through the glass.

HANNIBAL LECTER'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT-

The STRING QUARTET plays Mozart's "Dissonance" as a party is in full swing with well-heeled GUESTS. Four SERVERS emerge from the dining room, one then the other coming INTO FOCUS as they pass through FRAME, like dancers in a chorus line, and head into the room. The servers spread through the crowd with platters thatguests turn to take food from, creating a swirl of movement through the room.

 amidst the crowd and through them. As servers move on and two guests turn to chat, they

reveal Jack Crawford, newly arrived. Jack surveys the room.Hands take morsels of food from the servers' trays and pop them into their mouths. Teeth bite and gnash. Jack watches as they chew and swallow -- going SLO-MO as they chew and then back to NORMAL SPEED for the swallow.

He can see Hannibal talking to two guests. Y/N is nearby. She’s talking to Alana.  Alana takes an hors d'oeuvre from a passing tray, a morsel of meat on a pick, and eats it.

Dr. Chilton approaches and saddles up alongside Jack, eyeing the hors d'oeuvres as they move through the room. “Prosciutto roses. Heart tartare. Beef roulade. Needless to say, I won't be eating the food.” Chilton says uneased with the dishes. “Dr. Chilton.”

“Hannibal the Cannibal. That's what they'll call him, you know.” Chilton says amused. 

“Not according to Abel Gideon.” Jack says weery. “Gideon's caused me enough trouble today. The fact that he lied to you makes me even more certain he was telling Will Graham the truth.” Chilton eyes the roast pig's head on the buffet table. “Why did you come here tonight if you're so convinced?” Jack says 

“Darwinism. I don't want him to think I suspect anything. Keeping my mouth shut on the whole affair.” Chilton says as Jack watches Hannibal. The server returns with a Tupperware

with a lid. Jack takes it in his hands. “Help yourself.” Jack takes a latex glove from his pocket and uses it to place food into the Tupperware. Hannibal glances across the room to see Dr. Chilton watching the exchange curiously. As Jack seals the container, Hannibal smiles sadly.

“Eat it soon or it'll spoil.”

BAU - CORRIDOR - NIGHT-

Jack holds the food container as he greets Brian Zeller and Jimmy Price who are emerging from evidence processing. “Test this.” A DISTINCTIVE NOTE of a harpsichord punctuates the exchange.

HANNIBAL LECTER'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT-

The room has been tidied, but evidence of the party remains. Y/N sits at Hannibal's harpsichord, doubling the KEYS she's playing until it becomes clear she's performing a slow, dreamy version of "The Swan." Hannibal slides next to her. She smiles and he watches her for a moment, then starts playing his composition at the opposite end of the keyboard.

“The ending to my composition has been alluding me. You may have solved my problem with "The Swan."” They smile as they play, hands crossing over the keys, pushing their shoulders together.

“If only all problems could be solved with a simple waltz. Jack's treating you like a suspect.

He's pointing fingers in the dark.” I say, I wish i was scared of what i knew Hannibal was capable of. I know what he is and who he is. “I've walked away from Will, but I'm still trailing his accusations.” Hannibal says.

“I cant walk away. No matter how much I wish I wanted to. He’s my partner.” I say softly as my fingers grace the keys. “What does walking away leave us?” 

“Each other.” Hannibal looks at Y/N, admiring her, appreciating her. Y/N turns to face Hannibal. He feels her gaze and turns to her, their hands stilled on the keys. His hand reaches up and grazes her cheek softly, she leans into his touch. He kisses her softly, leaving her room to pull away. And pull away she did.

“This- This is wrong.” I say softly, though my body says otherwise. My hands rest on his chest. “What is so wrong about ones affection for another.” Hannibal says as he cups my face in his hands. “I’m with Will…” I say as I close my eyes. “Will needs to learn how to share.” He smirks. And Kisses me. One of his hands trail down to hold my waist. As my hands slide up to his hair. 

HANNIBAL LECTER'S HOUSE - BEDROOM - NIGHT- We stumble into the Bedroom, Hands clawing at each others clothing. Desperate to be relieved of them. He kicks the door behind us closed. I smile into our lustful bliss, He leads us to the bed without his lips ever leaving my skin. His touch scourches my soul, leaving handprints that shall never leave my being.

He pushes me down onto the bed. He’s in control. He possesses my body, mind, and soul in this very moment. I'm afraid he'll never release me. I sit up, my hands going to the buttons on his dress shirt. His lips leave a trail of bruising marks on my neck. His hands unzip my backless dress. I kick off my heels that should've been discarded earlier. The straps of my dress fall down my shoulders.

Hannibal’s dress shirt, suit jacket, and vest have been discarded to the floor by now, leaving him in his belt, pants, and what's underneath. He pulls the straps of my dress to reveal the skin beneath. I quickly go to cover myself, but he grabs my wrists gently but tight enough to stop me.

Hannibal gazes down upon my body, my dress now joining my heels on the floor. I advert his burning Gaze. “Perfect, you are a masterpiece dear. A Living piece of Art” He says as he takes both of my wrists into one of his hands, the other lifts my chin to meet his Gaze. I flush red, feeling the heat in my cheeks and the pooling in my panties. Glad i'm wearing lace. He unpins my hair from its style, my curls fall framing my face. I bite my lip, he pulls it free with his thumb and kisses me hungrily. I moan into the kiss, Hannibal takes the opportunity to bite my lip drawing Blood from it. I gasp and look up at the much older man, He smirks and strokes my cheek. My hands go to his belt, my eyes never leave his. One of Hannibal’s hands trails down my body, coaxing shivers from my body. His fingers dip into my panties, my Breathing hitches. “So wet. Does Will ever make you this wet?” He asks darkly, I nod softly. There had been a few occasions where Will had Aroused me to this extent. 

He looks at me like I'm Prey. Like he could eat me alive. And let's be honest, He probably could. He pushes me down, and Tears my panties off me swiftly. I gasp as he spreads my legs and kneels before me. The sight of it makes me somehow wetter.

Its like the Devil kneeling before an Angel. I lean onto my elbows to watch as he kisses up my legs, my head falls back as he softly blows on my heat. I softly Whimper. He litters my inner thighs with kisses and hickeys. Then finally he brings his mouth to where i need it most.

Hannibal's tongue licks a stripe up my pussy. He groans at the taste; “You taste Divine.” He smirks and then attaches his mouth to my cunt, drinking me in. My hand tangles in his hair as the other grips the comforter tightly.  “Fuck…” I moan out the profanity, I feel him smirk against my heat. He grips my thigh with one hand as the other trails its fingers along my entrance. He pushes two long fingers into me, causing me to buck and moan out other unintelligible profanities and words of praise. 

He hikes my leg over his shoulder, my hand tangled in his hair softly tugs him closer. Im a moaning mess, He sets the pace with his fingers and curls them, expertly hittling my g-spot as he attaches his lips to my clit. 

“Oh Fuck! Hannibal.” I moan loudly, Alerting him that he found it.  If he had neighbors they'd surely hear me. I quickly feel the familiar burn of an oncoming orgasm, my pussy clenches around his fingers and he pulls way causing me to let out a pathetic whimper.

“Not yet Butterfly.” He says softly as he removes my leg from his shoulder. He leans over me and Kisses me softly, I moan softly at the taste of myself on his lips and tongue. I Kiss along his jaw and down his neck. Politely not leaving any marks. My hands unbutton his pants and i bite my lip. I knew it wasn't right. I Love Will. But there's just something about Hannibal that coaxes the dark and dangerous part of me out. 

I flip us over and straddle his thighs as he watches me with a dark smile. I kiss up his stomach, abs and chest, until I reached his lips. He grips my waist and kept me pressed to him in our passionate kiss. Until i pulled away. I tugged at his pants and he allowed me to take them off. I hear him chuckle darkly.

“What?” i ask innocently, I look up at him softly. He cups my cheek and his thumb strokes my cheek bone. “Such a good Girl.” He praises, I whimper at said praise. I focus on my task at hand. I look back up at him silently asking permission. My hands needy, grasping at his boxers. He shakes his head with a smile as he strokes my cheek. My eyebrows furrow confused. “Not tonight Butterfly.” He flips us back over. Hannibal chuckles. He strokes my hair and kisses me. I relax and sigh into the kiss. His hands explore my body, mapping out the soft skin. My arms wrap around his neck, and pull him closer. He kisses along my neck, his tongue tasting the salt on my skin. He pulls back and admires the work he has done on my neck. I reach up and brush the hair from his face. Hannibal looks back up at me and kisses me passionately. I wrap my legs around his waist, grinding up on his bulge, desperate for friction.

Hannibal moans at the action and pulls back to look at me. My face flushed. I bite my lip as he strokes my hair and tucks it behind my ear. I grind up again and he kisses me roughly.

His hands pin mine above my head, he grips them both with one hand. He lines himself up with my entrance. I moan and whimper, wanting nothing more than for him to be inside me. His other hand holds my hip, his thumb strokes the skin there. I feel his tip tease my entrance, I let out a pathetic whine. He looks into my eyes and then slides into me. We both moan, and he lets out a low growl. He bottoms out inside of me and I gasp. My back arches and my eyes roll back.

My hands grip the pillow, Hannibal releases his grip on them. He leans down and kisses me softly as he pulls back and slowly thrusts back in. I moan into the kiss and my nails drag across his scalp, making him growl into the kiss. His hands hold onto my hips tightly, I know they'll leave a mark. He thrusts into me at a slow pace, letting me feel every inch of him. He groans and moans, I love the sounds he makes.

His thrusts start getting rougher, more animalistic. My legs wrap around his waist and my heels dig into his lower back, pushing him further into me. The sound of our skin slapping is music to my ears, and i know that I can't hold back anymore.

I gasp and moan. I claw at his back, and he buries his face in the crook of my neck. His breath is hot against my skin, his teeth scrape my skin and I whimper. Hannibal thrusts harder and faster, hitting deeper with every thrust. I cry out as the all too familiar burn starts to form, my toes curl. Hannibal groans, his cock twitches inside me. I can tell he's getting close, too. His pace gets more erratic and less rhythmic.

He bites my shoulder, marking me. Claiming me as his. I scream out, the pain and pleasure overwhelming my senses. I feel him cum inside me, hot and sticky. The sensation of it sends me over the edge, my orgasm hits and i cum on his cock. We ride out our orgasms together, he slows his pace and kisses along my neck. He releases the skin of my shoulder from his teeth. He licks the blood and cleans the wound.

HANNIBAL LECTER'S HOUSE - BEDROOM - NIGHT-

Her skin is in stark contrast to the crimson bedding. Hannibal sleeps soundly next to Y/N. After a moment, he opens his eyes. He watches Y/N. He finally stands. He takes Y/N's wineglass from the bedside table. With a white cloth, he wipes the rim, then sets the glass back down. He snaps his fingers close to her ears; she doesn't stir. He looks again at Y/N’s sleeping, then leaves.

HOSPITAL - DR. GIDEON'S ROOM - NIGHT-

l he lies propped up in a hospital bed, curtains drawn all around on an oval frame. His face is bruised. IV drips and monitoring are hooked up to his body. A THICK BANDAGE around his TORSO. We HEAR the door to the room open and then slowly close. Gideon's eyes open as FOOTSTEPS squeak on the floor. He sees a tall SHADOW behind the CURTAINS as it approaches.He watches as the shadow moves toward the foot of the bed. SLOW and TENSE. The curtains are drawn back and a tall figure in surgical scrubs, gloves and a MASK stands before him. He pulls down his mask to reveal Hannibal Lecter. “Hello, Dr. Gideon.”

“I knew you'd come.” Hannibal smiles at Gideon.

HOSPITAL - DR. GIDEON'S ROOM - DAWN-

Early morning light begins to creep through the windows.the curtains surrounding Gideon's bed, a GHOULISH SILHOUETTE hangs beyond them. A FLASH ignites behind the curtain, the silhouettes of TWO MEN examining the body. Jack Crawford as he approaches. He opens

the curtains to find Brian Zeller taking forensic photos of the body as Jimmy Price dusts for fingerprints.

THE BODY It seems to be floating on his belly, horizontally suspended two feet above the bed. His skin is pinched/stretched/pulled many different directions by WIRE FISHING LEADERS. Each line ends in a handcrafted HOOK -- the barb pushed through the skin of the dead man's back, arms and legs. But that dead man is not Abel Gideon. Instead, it is a BALTIMORE POLICE OFFICER, his gun belt still around the waist of his uniform pants. His torso is BARE and opened, the skin held back in flaps attached by fishhooks. The contents of his abdomen on the bed below, his badge sits on top. The finger clip from the MONITORS is attached to his hand. “Put a heart monitor on the guard so no one'd know Gideon was missing, least for as long as it took the guard to die, which wasn't long.” Zeller says.

“Long enough.” Jimmy indicates the dead police officer. “Fishhooks. Hand-tied flies. Like the ones Will Graham used to make. This one has human hair. A tooth.” Jimmy says as he indicates the parts in the flybaits. “There's no way Gideon could have done any of this with his injuries, much less get out of bed.” Zeller clarifies.

“Last time Gideon escaped custody, he was trying to find the Chesapeake Ripper. Found him all right. And tonight, the Ripper found Gideon.”

HANNIBAL LECTER'S HOUSE - BEDROOM - EARLY MORNING-

Y/N asleep in Hannibal's bed. She stirs slightly and slowly opens her eyes. Hannibal sleeps quietly next to me. I stare peacefully at the ceiling, the morning after sleeping with a friend. What the Hell have I done?  As I begin to think too much, I realize Hannibal has opened his eyes and is watching me.

“You're awake.” I say with a soft sigh and a smile. “So are you.”

“Was thinking about What we did. How I betrayed Will. My heart is torn. And I don't know why.” I say softly as my smile starts to drop. He Caresses my cheek and brushes away a stray hair in my face.  “Of course your heart is torn. You love Will. But you also care for me as well.” 

“But I feel that is unfair. Not to me but to the both of you.” I say softly  “It isn't unfair, I know how to share. And I'm certain Will does too.” He kisses me, then stops and looks at me reassuringly: I kiss him back. BING-BONG. The doorbell rings. BING-BONG.  “Last time someone rang my doorbell this early, it was a census taker.” He goes in to kiss me again before BING-BONG and begrudgingly Hannibal rises from the bed, shrugs on a robe. Hannibal goes to the curtains and draws them -- revealing the morning sun and allowing it to spill into the room.

“I'll see who it is.”

HANNIBAL LECTER'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - MOMENTS LATER-

three loud RAPS on a heavy oak door. The peephole goes dark, then -- Hannibal opens the door to find Jack Crawford standing outside.

“Hello, Jack.” Hannibal says as he  leads Jack into the living room. “What can I do for you?”

“Gideon took a fall down a stairwell last night. Was hospitalized. Security guard standing watch was killed in what looks to be another Chesapeake Ripper murder. Now Gideon is nowhere to be found.” Jack explains and looks at him expectantly.

“He escaped?”

“We know he didn't walk out of the hospital. His back was broken. Someone took him. Someone he knew. Where were you last night?”

Hannibal Hesitates “I was Here.”

“All night?”

“Yes.”

“Anyone besides you can verify that?” Hannibal's quiet a moment. Then, from behind Jack: “I can.” I say wrapped in one of Hannibal's Button-ups, it goes down to my mid-thigh. Jack turns. He flashes surprise, but tamps it quickly.

“I was here with Hannibal all night, Jack. What are you accusing him of?” I ask as Hannibal reads Jack's frustration and perhaps relief. But there's a chance he woke up. Why the Hell am i not upset that i most likely Fucked the Chesapeake Ripper. “I'm not accusing him of anything. Only asking his whereabouts.”

“That's not all you were asking.” Jack looks evenly at them, nods, forced to accept that

Hannibal isn't the Chesapeake Ripper...

BAU - EVIDENCE PROCESSING - DAY-

Brian Zeller stands in front of a monitor. Jimmy Price and Jack Crawford look on. “Not cows. Wagyu beef. I'd say, a hundred dollars worth right there.”

“Sure it wasn't Kobe?” Zeller asks his fellow tech. Jimmy rolls his eyes: “All Kobe is Wagyu, but not all Wagyu is Kobe. Least we know Dr. Lecter wasn't serving up people.”

“Want people? The Chesapeake Ripper was tying flies with them. Just like Will Graham allegedly did.”

BAU - MORGUE - MOMENTS LATER-

Brian Zeller, Jimmy Price and Jack standing over a row of FISHING LURES taken from the security guard's back.

“Hair woven into the monofilament is Beverly's. Bone fragments from Miriam Lass. Veining from Sheldon Isley. Optic nerves and arteries from Judge Davies. A toenail from James Gray, our Muralist.” Zeller points to the DNA matches. A fly hook. Cleverly crafted, with bits of dark, organic material woven into the monofilament. A bone fragment. Veining coiled around hook and feather. An optic nerve entwined with bark.

“All Chesapeake Ripper victims.” Zeller says as Jimmy indicates four lures, in partial stages of

deconstruction, in individual grids. “These four lures here are almost identical to the ones we found at Will's house, made with materials from the exact same human remains. Abigail Hobbs, Marissa Schuur, Donald Sutcliffe, Georgia Madchen.” Jimmy points out.

“Will didn't kill any of them. There was no Copycat. It was always the Ripper. He's finally taking credit for those murders.” Jack realizes Will never killed anyone other than Garret Jacob Hobbs.

“May be taking too much credit. We found something else in the lures.” With tweezers, Jimmy plucks a curled, wispy wood shaving from one of the deconstructed fly grids.

“Madrona bark. It's a tree almost nonexistent on the East Coast. But this bark was peeled recently.”

Zeller gestures to the map of the area. “There's a small stand of madrona in Virginia.”

“Inside your diatom search area.” Zeller zooms in with his hand, à la an iPad. “Here.”

VIRGINIA BARN - NIGHT-

Moonlight on crisp white snow. The hulking black shadow of a heavily-built wooden barn stands stark against the white. we hear the low rumble of a car engine, to find a black sedan pulling up on the opposite side of the barn. JACK CRAWFORD and  DR. Y/N L/N Exit the car. Takes in the barn; the two heavy gate doors barred on the outside. Jack pulls out his gun and a Maglite and walks toward it, his feet crunching on the snow. Their breath frosts the air. Jack walks up the wooden ramp to the heavy doors.

Blackness, except for slivers of faint moonlight shining through the wooden beams. We hear the sound of the heavy bar eing thrown. And then the door opens and a piercing FLASHLIGHT BEAM.. Jack and Y/N silhouetted behind it as he enters the barn slowly. He plays the flashlight around the space, cautious. Tense.

.

Cobwebs and old wood. Heavy old machinery and hand tools. Dust in the air. A SKITTERING SOUND and Jack swings the light and gun -- catching a RAT scurrying for cover... Jack  and Y/N move on. Something shines in the beam and Jack moves toward it. A new steel padlock on an old door. Incongruous. Y/N looks around to be cautious of her surroundings.

A rending sound of wood and metal. A door opens to reveal a flight of wooden stairs, looking up

at Jack and Y/N.

 Y/N throws down the iron bar she used to force the lock. Jack Shines his light right at the bottom as they start down the stairs -- Jack moves down the wooden stairs, gun and flashlight before him. Y/N shines her own light to reveal a dark, low cellar space, the concrete floor dominated by the tops of two circular WATER CISTERNS.

Jack and Y/N scan the room, Their flashlight beams our only light source, casting harsh shadows and movements. Jack checks the room for danger -- light reflecting off dirt-smeared windows in the far wall; blackness reflecting back from the other side.

MOVEMENT Y/N stills as she hears it. Heart thumping. A scraping sound. BELOW HER…She moves to the cisterns, the old stone topped with much newer METAL LIDS. she pulls the first one off -- flashes the light into it – dark water rises a third of the way up the steep slick sides.

SCRITCH – The sound again. Y/N moves to the other cistern. Can definitely hear something inside... (AN: BTW i wrote the SMUT scene while listening to "I am not afraid anymore" by Halsey, and whew it really goes with the scene)

[midnigtartist]

Writing scenes I’m to lazy to draw. Enjoy

“And what is kith'rak?”

Dotty bounds along at Lae’zel heel not unlike a pup chasing an offered treat, clinging to their githyanki friends every word as shes barraged with questions. Quite honestly her pursuit of knowledge is not only commendable but shared. A rare opportunity, to interview a denizen of the Astral Sea, Gale is itching to ask her a thousand questions of his own.

For her, decidedly, prickly nature Lae’zel seems to take the teifings hounding in stride. “Dragons knights in service of our Queen. You saw them as my kin pursed the ghaik ship. To wield a kith'rak’s silver sword is my life’s purpose.”

Dotty nods along eagerly with her explanation, swaying up into Lae’zel space to slip her arm around the other’s. Its hardly been a few hours in each other’s company and both Shadowheartand himself have already been on the receiving end of that particular motion. With Gale’s arm lock firmly in her grasp, deceptively firm grip. He’s not yet sure if she’s just the tactile type or merely unsteady on her feet, though he’d wager its the former. Regardless, the hand on her bicep causes Lae’zel to jerk swiftly away.

Her head cocks sharply to one side. “Do you intend to grapple me, istik?” She snaps.

Dotty cocks her head back in confusion. “Have you never walked arm in arm with someone before?”

“Why would you wish impede your target in such an inefficient way? Twisting the arm behind the back would be a much sounder tactic”

“Oh no its not fighting thing.” Dotty explains. “Its a polite thing. For when you’re walking with a lady. You link arms so you can walk and chat. You know like, with friends. Or a sweetheart.”

Lae’zel fixes her with a look as steely as the blade at her back. Dotty sighs.

“I think I might be explaining this poorly,, maybe it would just be easier to show you” she casts her gaze around for a moment before it settles on him at the rear. “Gale dear, you’re gentlemanly enough. Come help me show Lae’zel what I mean”

Her smile drips with a laugh the seems constantly at risk of spilling over, despite their bleak circumstances. His own lips quirk up at the absurdity of the, well, demand more then request.

“Had you told me, as I was plummeting from a mind flayers ship at terminal velocity, almost certain to face me premature doom dashed across a cliffside, that I would later be giving etiquette lessons to a githyanki, I cannot fathom my response.” But strange needs in strange times. He takes a step forward, inclining his head slightly as he does. “Consider me at your disposal.”

“Really?” Shadowheart cuts in, tone both bewildered and annoyed. “We’re going to waste precious time on this?”

Dotty dismisses the question with a sharp flick of the wrist. “Hush. It’s important for Lae’zel to learn this um, “custom”. That was the word, yes? Custom?”

She talks with her hands, he’s noticed All graceful rolling of her wrists and delicately poised fingers. Gale wonders if she’s undertaken any arcane training. Certainly her sharp and guilefully motions would lend themselves to weave manipulation.

“Now Lae’zel-“ Dotty turns her attention back to the stone faced warrior. “When you’re walking with a lady, it’s expected that the gentleman offer his arm like so-“

His cue. Gale straightens his back and offers the crook of his elbow with, perhaps a bit more flourish then conceivably needed, but then, what’s a demonstration with out a bit of flare? Its seems to delight Dotty, if nothing else, for him to play the part so readily.

She clasps her hands over her chest. “Perfect! Yes exactly like that. And then the lady would position herself like this-“

She steps lightly up to his side, resting well manicured talons in the crook of his elbow. “And then you walk like this.”

He follows her lead as she guilds them a handful steps towards Lae’zel, her other hand coming to rest on his bicep as the walk in measured, almost swaying steps.

“You see? It’s easy. In this case you would be the gentleman and I would be the lady but we can switch if you want. I don’t mind.” She adds.

“Enough.” Lae’zel rolls her eyes “If I allow you to cling to me will you cease with this with pointless explanation?”

“Yes.”

“Very well then.” Despite her sharp tone, she looks a tad embarrassed as she offers up a limp elbow.

Dotty bounces on the balls of her feet, giving Gale’s arm one quick squeeze before skipping over and linking her arm with Lae’zel instead, hand curling up to hold her at the shoulder.

“Thank you.”

[acritti]

i was playing pokemon diamond and i was like i wonder what pokemon transformers had so i started thinking it up like oh prowl would have a metagross probably, jazz could have a kricketune and

SOUNDWAVE WOULD HAVE POKEMON THAT EVOLVE WITH FRIENDSHIP AUGHH so sounders team imo would be kangaskhan, ninetales, espeon, crobat, and chimecho and i will not be changing my mind

[spikezonebby]

https://www.tumblr.com/spikezonebby/766604402550341632/hnnnng-gotta-make-myself-fight-through-this-damn

May I ask specifically for Soundwave doing it to Shockwave?

Oh ho ho let's get that HOLE real talk this thought got away from me a bit so there's some finger sucking and ass play under the cut. That includes fingers, spike, AND rimming bby. Oh yeah and I'm inserting my nullified Shockwave hc in here too but it's nothing explicit, bruv just has no cock or puss. This also escalated into overloading untouched so enjoy!

I think Shockwave should have a thing for Soundwave's face under the mask. Maybe it's jealousy, maybe it's remembering his own face, maybe it's just the fact that Soundwave undoubtedly has some *luscious* dick sucking lips. Whatever it is, once Shockwave convinces him to take off the face mask the full horny comes out.

Brushing his thumb over Soundwave's soft bottom lip, pressing down and watching the protomesh give beneath him. Unlike Shocks, Sounders is pretty expressive beneath the mask. His expression screws up with a pout, he bites the inside of his cheek or the tip of his glossa. Shockwave hates (loves??) it. Soundwave's lips part and Shockwave takes the opportunity to savor the delightful wet warmth around his digits. He tries to picture biolights seated in the joints, protomesh instead of hard metal.

Empurata took more than just his face and his hands, and despite Lord Megatron's generosity (in equal proportion to your use), there were limits. No amount of donor parts would ever feel like his, and so Shockwave had to settle for using the one part of his that handed been destroyed by the Senate.

And Soundwave, despite his reputation for being quiet, knew how to use his tongue.

Soundwave's servos hold his thighs, drawing musical notations across the outside of one as the other slides up and presses along either side of Shocks' aft port. If he focuses, Shockwave can almost feel the pulse of arousal deep in the pit of his belly, right behind his permanently sealed valve cover and spike housing. Nothing was there. Nothing. Just empty slots where they once were. The blue boombox hums-- a rich sound without the mask synthesizer-- and a warm, humid breath brushes along his hole. Quickly followed by the swipe of a glossa, so brief it sends a shiver through his systems that not even shadowplay can supress.

"Stop stalling." He drones, gripping the edge of the table he laid belly-down upon with his good servo.

There was an electric buzz that haunted the air for a moment, the tell-tale sign of Soundwave trying to probe his mind and field. But shadowplay renders the field deaf and the vocalizer numb. He settles instead for pressing his glossa tighter to the iris of synthetic muscle and dutifully working at it.

Shockwave's body doesn't react to the ripples of liquid sin Sound's tongue pours over his sensory net, but he feels them still. Soundwave at least doesn't seem to mind a quiet lover. He loses himself to the moment, probably listening to music within his own mind as his tongue and lips work the purple mech open. Soon fingers join the fray and Shockwave's systems start to throw heat through his vents, hot enough to steam the air and make condensation sit on his plating.

Sounders pulls away, but not without leaving a long trail of solvent dripping down from his port all over the inside of his thighs. Shockwave's hole twitches, and Soundwave just leans in and swirls his tongue over the flushed protometal like it's the sweetest, filthiest treat.

"Stop stalling." Shockwave says again, his vocalizer clipped and his whining vents speaking more for his need. He can't overload from this, but it was close enough.

It takes an utterly embarrassing amount of energy to pull his pedes up beneath him, but he bows his back and tries to turn his helm to look over his shoulder.

He says it again, "Stop stalling." But Soundwave knows he means "Please frag me."

It is a logical enough conclusion.

So Soundwave hums again and takes the purple mech by the hips. There's a shoop-whiiiiiir of his plating retracting, then hefty weight of Sounder's spike sitting so enticingly plapping against his throbbing entrance.

"Stop stall--!?"

And then Soundwave lines himself up, and shoves himself to the hilt in one fell swoop. He's searingly hot, thicker than even Shockwave's digits, and he feels so good.

The quietest huffs escape his vents and Soundwave doesn't wait for him to adjust, he knows how loved and knows he likes it rough. Fingers slide up around his throat, not quite squeezing but it still takes Shockwave aback when the blue mech pulls him up off his front. Pulling his body taut against him, and Shockwave swears he can feel the boombox's massive spike pressing a bulge out against his abdomen.

"Query: Shockwave, cannot overload?"

If he's had a mouth Shockwave was certain he'd be beyond words. The lips in the side of his helm, brushing his audials, makes him shake minutely.

"Affirmative."

"Soundwave: Has an idea."

Before Shockwave can even question him, there's another click. His hand slides up to hold Soundwave's forearm, calculations running in the back of his processor for what the boombox could possibly be thinking. But his answer comes not as words but, vibration.

Soundwave's spike starts vibrating with such sudden, deep haste that Shockwave actually does gasp. It ruins him from his pedes to his processor, so deep he can feel it in his fuel pump. And with a shout his aft quivers around Soundwave, white blinding his vision and then spurts of thick, pink transfluid dumping into his chute. Never before had Shockwave felt so loose, wet, and properly used. His pedes give out, his optic flashes, and electricity crackles all along his body as his first overload in millions of years wrecked his body.

[anarchy-and-piglins]

stumbling through the door and dropping unfinished fics

Oh uh, ignore those. Anyway! Techno hair angst headcanons!

So, I feel people doing Techno's hair is a pretty big deal to him- it's something soundermates would do back in the Nether, braiding each other's hair and adding gold jewelry to it. Bonding yk, kinda like preening. Techno's got his few close people that he allows to touch his hair- often he'll help Phil preen his wings and in turn Phil will style his hair.

Now, let's say someone's got Techno captured. Someone grabs at his hair to make him look them in the eyes, and he freaks out. He's angry, and upset too. Instinctually, it's not right, this person isn't his sounder, but they're grabbing at his hair- but for the most part, he's able to ignore that because he's got a more pressing situation at hand.

What if, though, the whumper wants to humiliate him? They braid his hair, they add the gold jewelry, and Techno's at war with his instincts because it's sounder tradition but this person isn't his sounder but they have gold?? And once he gets back to his friends, he's really hesitant about letting them braid his hair again because of what happened. It takes time, but eventually he kinda just forces himself to sit through it with his friends and then things start to get better.

(Can't help myself, I gotta give the blorbos happy endings)

It's somehow crueller than having his hair cut by whumper. Because that sucks a lot - hair is important in piglin culture, and it's also something Techno *personally* values a lot - but at least it will grow back. He's hurt in his pride, sure. Nothing time can't fix though.

Humiliation is harder to swallow, having something so important to him used against him burns. And it's the one thing his friends could often do to make him feel better, but now that's tainted. Yesyes, good stuff.