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do you guys even like girls that have this ...

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Actually me right now, bc I'm severely sunburnt and these hotel sheets SUCK

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I hate that this is my first time drawing Swerve.

Also Photoshop kept freezing on me with this one, clearly sexyswerve.psdc was too much to handle.

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Me...

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This constantly plays in my head 😩

has Tumblr discovered McPentagon yet. it will not leave my brain. I need it to spread

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@energ00n I'm literally in love with this trend rnnn!!!!💘

Pin up

Inspired by this post

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Transformers being fascinated by the differences between their recharge and human sleep.

When a Transformer is in recharge they are almost always completely still. Even in the throes of dreams and nightmares their frame remains almost entirely immobile, flat on their back, servos to their sides. Humans, meanwhile, sleep so recklessly. Heads cocked, limbs sprawled, hands and feet hanging off the edge of their tiny beds. Floppy and limp-limbed, sometimes they move, adjust, or even talk while in the depths of their little organic recharge.

Bots like Optimus, Bumblebee, Arcee, they've been around humans for long enough that it no longer fazes them. Sure, it's odd. But they just chalk it up to another weird thing that humans do that can't completely be rationalized. Autobots and Decepticons who don't get as much contact with humans however, find it vaguely creepy.

Ultra Magnus telling you multiple times to speak up before realizing with a shudder that you've been recharging the entire time, yet somehow holding a mostly-cognizant conversation.

Thundercracker always keeping a hand around you when you want to cuddle because he's paranoid you're going to roll off his berth in your sleep and SPLAT! onto the floor.

Swerve finding the idea of 'sleep-walking' silly until he finds you standing in the dark hallway facing the wall and muttering to yourself. He screams so loud he wakes up half the Lost Light crew.

Soundwave shifting uncomfortably when he can feel you rolling around and readjusting yourself in his cassette bay, soft little hands and feet pressing up against the interior walls.

Meanwhile humans are always telling them how unsettling it is that they sleep so still! Comparisons to zombies, vampires, corpses, they go right over the bots heads. Why do humans think it's weird when they're always moving around like possessed little puppets in their recharge?!?

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I need this stupid bartender so bad 😩

Always Tip Your Bartender

MTMTE Swerve/Human Reader, 2000 words, GN Reader, Valveplug, Oral, Begging

I finally stopped procrastinating on this and I'm so glad I did cause I really enjoy it. Here's Swerve getting his spike sucked AND his valve ate as a treat.

Primus, you were going to kill him. Or break up with him, which would pretty much accomplish the same thing cause Swerve didn't really know how he would live without you. 

Either way, he was dead. And he had no one to blame but himself.

The evening had been going so well. You'd always insisted how much you enjoyed watching him work, and he was more than happy to have you sitting at the edge of the bar, dangling your feet off the side and chatting with whatever bot occupied the nearest barstool as he flitted around taking orders and refilling drinks. Whenever he'd brush past you'd hit him with that brilliant smile, the one that made him go all weak in the processor and wobbly in the knee joints, before playfully waving him off, insisting he gets back to work. 

Was it incredibly distracting? Yes. 

Had he broken several glasses while admiring you? Also yes. 

Would he ever want you to stop? Not in a billion cycles.

But tonight had been particularly busy, and maybe Swerve hadn't been able to give you quite as much attention between orders as he usually had. A concept that had completely slipped his mind until the moment Whirl raised a single claw and pointed you out across the bar.

"Don't look now, Chatterbot. But I think Fizzle over there's making a move on your fleshy!"

Spinning on his heel, there was a tight clench in Swerve's tanks when his optics landed on you. Fizzle stood, drink in servo and elbow strut propped on the bar, leaning more than a little bit too close into your personal space. Every time you seemed to shuffle back he moved closer, and though Swerve wasn't the best at reading lips he could tell by the furrow for your brow and crinkle of your nose that you were not enjoying the conversation at hand. He tossed the tray he was holding onto Whirl's table and ducked through the crowd, dodging flailing elbows of dancing patrons as he hurried back to your side.

As he neared, the drone of chatter and thumping music gave away enough that he could finally begin to pick up snippets of your conversation.

"I mean, everybody's curious!" Fizzle slurred, identifiably sloshed just by the way he spoke. "Just cause you don't hear bots talking about it doesn't mean we're not all thinking it."

"Look, dude, I'm not really comfortable with you asking about-"

"So how's it work, huh? Barely the size of a mini-con and you can still get spiked down by one of us? Swerve's kinda puny, yeah, but he's like twice your size! Got a real greedy little valve, don't y-HGGK!?!"

The next thing Swerve knew, Fizzle was laid out flat on his back at the edge of the dance floor. It took the sudden, hushed stares of the surrounding patrons and the sting of his knuckles before Swerve realized that the one who had punched the words out of Fizzle's slimy, inconsiderate intake was him. 

"Swerve!"

Oh Primus. You did not sound happy.

"I was- he'd just-" He stammered, making aborted hand gestures in between you and himself and the 'not unconscious but fairly woozy' Fizzle. "I don't, uh, he uh, really shouldn't be talking like that."

You hopped down from the bar and stalked over to him, gripping the edge of his forearm plating with an unexpected force and tugging him in the direction of the storeroom. He could have resisted you, if he wanted to. But he let himself be led away instead, pedes scuffing and dermas trembling as you tugged him along. The rolling din of the bar began to pick up again as you moved away, and Swerve could swear he heard Whirl yell something sarcastically supportive over the rumble of the crowd. A sound that was quickly cut off with the resounding metal slam of the storage room door.

“Um… H-Hi, sweetspark. Angel. Light of my life.”

“Get down here.” You snapped your fingers, pointing to the ground. Swerve slowly took a knee.

“Look, about Fizzle. I’m sorry, okay! I know I shouldn’t have hit him like that, I just couldn’t let- MMPFH?!~”

But before he could finish his desperate apology your lips were meeting his own, fingertips gripping and caressing the sides of his helm and brushing a ticklish trail along his armor. Your tongue lathed across the seam of his dermas and he couldn't help but open his intake to you, servo falling instinctively into the curve of your spine as you deepened the kiss. He let out a low, needy rumble of his engine when you began to pull away and you chuckled.

“Whu… Whuh?” He managed to force out, his processor still halfway caught between the realization that you weren't actually mad at him.

“I can't believe you actually punched him. In the face. That was the hottest thing I've ever seen.”

“So you're not- mmfh,~” His train of thought was only slightly interrupted by you pressing another wet kiss to his dermas. “Not mad?”

“Why would I be mad? He deserved it. Plus, I got to see my big, strong bot standing up for my honor.~”

“Ohhhh, thank Primus.” Swerve slumped his helm into the crook of your neck and let out a relieved groan, half from his own emotions and half from the pleasant tickle of your little fingers toying with the exposed cabling just beneath his helm. You had put a foot up on the bend of his thigh in order to reach him properly, and his servo gave your butt a soft squeeze when it came up to support you. “Thought you were gonna tear into me back here, to be honest.”

“Aww, did I worry you?” You pressed another fluttering kiss to the curve of his jaw. “And here I was thinking I should be giving you a reward instead.” He shivered as your lips traced just below his audial. A familiar clang and a muffled curse reverberated from Swerve, the unmistakable sounds of his spike pressurizing behind its panels. “That sounds like a yes?”

“Hoo yeah. Absolutely. Yes please. Whatever you want, sweetspark.”

“Wanna say yes a few more times?” You joked, sliding from his grasp and sinking slowly to your knees in front of Swerve’s modesty panel. As your fingers traced over his Autobrand the panels snapped back with a snikt and his chubby spike pressurized eagerly into your hands.

“Do you need me to?” He babbled through a wobbly grin. “Cause I will! I'll say whatever you want me to say if it'll keep your hands on me.” 

“...Y’know what? Yeah. I like that. Keep talking for me, baby.”

“Y-Yeah? I can talk all da-AaAaaAayy!?” His words choked off into a glitchy, garbled mess as you teased the underside of his head with the tips of your fingers. “Oh, oh! Mmmhmm, ahh! That’s se-sensitive…”

“I know, baby.” You cooed. Your fingers traced the biolights up the length of his spike before smearing the bead of transfluid at the tip wetly across the head. Swerve’s panels rattled as he shuddered, digits clawing absentmindedly at the door he was braced against to keep his hands from gripping his own spike. “That’s what makes it good though, isn’t it?”

“Mmh! So mean,” A low curl of steam hissed between his dentae.

“You love it.~”

“M-Maybe… Hngh!~” He gasped as you pinched the head between two fingers. “Ah! Ah! O-Okay, I do! I like it! Please, just- Ohhhh…~” He trailed off into another garbled mess as your lips wrapped around the tip, teasing the slit with your tongue. You took as much of his spike into your mouth as you could, stroking the rest in a tight fist as you swallowed around the solid, unrelenting obtrusion. The sharp metallic screech of his fingers gripping the door was only drowned out by his whines and gasps, staticky glitches increasing which each bob of your head. Drool and pre-fluid trickled from the corners of your mouth and down his length, further slicking your hand. When you pulled away with a wet, shaky breath, Swerve thought his spark was going to pop out of his chassis right then and there, valve cycling desperately around nothing as you pressed a slick kiss to the underside of his spike head with a barely audible moan.

“Swerve.” You murmured, your eyes hooded and glossy, your lips still grazing his spike.

“Yes?” He responded, twice as desperate and equally as enamored.

“Spread your legs for me. Push your hips out a little more.”

He let out a low, whimpering groan, widening his stance and pushing his hips out from against the wall. You ducked your head further, keeping a tight hand around his spike as you dragged your tongue up the length of his valve. 

“Ohh!~ Oh, oh that’s- ahhhh, ah, ah!~” Swerve did his best to fight the urge to wriggle, stabilizers shivering with need as you buried your mouth in his plush folds. Each time your nose bumped against his anterior node he let out a hiccuping gasp, transfluid dribbling  from both his tip and his valve as his calipers cycled around your intruding tongue. “It's so soooft, y-your mouth, I can’t- MMH!~ Oh, oh, please I- please make me…”

“You wanna cum?” You murmured, lips still pressed to his valve as you furiously stroked his spike, the rhythmic shlick shlick shlick almost drowned out by Swerve’s whirring fans and desperate whines.

“Yes, yes yes please! P-please, I want it, I want- AHHH!~” His vocalizer pitched up into a staticky howl as you took his node between your lips and sucked, hard. He glitched and wailed, helm thunking back against the door as his spike pulsed again and again in your grip, thick waves of transfluid shooting over your head and splattering against the store room floor. His valve clenched rhythmically, more translucent, pinkish fluid spilling down your chin and neck in kind. Only when he stopped shivering beneath you and fell limply back against the door did you draw away, fighting the prideful smile that tried to crawl across your face at Swerve’s ragged venting and still-flickering visor. You rested your cheek against his plated thigh, stroking the other with the hand no longer cradling his flagging spike. His helm lolled forward a bit, clarity beginning to blink back into his optics as he gazed down at you. Suddenly he let out a sharp gasp, one servo flying to cup the back of your head, digits splayed and feeling around frantically. Then he let out a soft, relieved sigh, the desperate groping of his servo slowing into something absent-minded and soothing.

“Whew. I didn't get any in your hair.” A quiet chuckle slipped through his dermas as he twiddled a bit of your hair between two digits. 

“Got it a few other places though. Not that I'm complaining.” You made a show of wiping your fingers across your chin before drawing them into your mouth and lapping them free of his fluids. He shivered, a delicate blue glow rising to his face plate, split wide in a crooked smile.

“C-careful now, or you might get me all charged up again. Then we’ll be here all night.”

“You’re saying that like you think it'd be a bad thing.” You teased.

“It wouldn't, if I didn't have to get back to work soon…” Swerve trailed off, that gentle glow beginning to rise into a furious blush. “How, uh… How much of that do you think they could hear?”

Beyond the door you could just barely make out a congratulatory cheer in a voice that sounded just a little bit too close to Whirl’s. His celebration seemed to be working up the crowd, and soon a resounding cacophony was echoing through the storeroom door. Swerve’s free servo flew up to cover his face plate, helm clanking back against the door as he let out a humiliated groan.

“Oh Primus. I'm never gonna live this down.”

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That sounds absolutely heavenly rn! I need to be stretched by my giant robots 😩

Knockout: Why are you pulling your human like that?

Soundwave, doing Y/N's stretches for them: Answer; Enrichment required

They're just on him like a ragdoll and he's just bending them whichever way till they've gotten at least 10 minutes of stretching in

I feel like Soundwave stretching you like a medieval torture device can undo years of damage

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Two freaky old men lock eyes from across the room...

They both reach a silent understanding...

It's go time~ 😏

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Me thinking of what I should write next

he is sitting and pondering

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♡ ͎. ｡˚MAKE IT RIGHT˚ . ͎♡

𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝗇𝗌𝖿𝗐!

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝗀𝗎𝗒𝗌 𝗂 𝗆𝖺𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝖼𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝖽𝗈𝗐 𝖺 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗓𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝖿𝗍…𝗋𝗂𝗉

⛧touchstarved!shadow who could hardly last a few minutes the first time you had sex. it truly may have been that he was a virgin, but whatever reason fact, he stood no chance against the feel of your body on his

⛧touchstarved!shadow who still has to grit his teeth, eyes shutting tightly and breathing heavy against your skin, whenever he bottoms out, nestled deep inside you, to fight the urge to cum right then and there. there was no explaining how good you felt around him, your soft walls sucking him in with sweet promises of fulfillment. there was no stopping the throbs that made his length twitch but he almost died trying

⛧touchstarved!shadow is like a moth to a flame. every bit of composure that makes his posture rigid is dissolving under the temptation of you, flaring his lust so extremely that he borders on sensitivity from your kiss alone. but no matter how much you sear into him, reducing him to mere instincts as he chases his addiction, he can’t resist, can’t stop. he’ll go round after round until you’re pleading for a break or his exhaustion gets the best of him (more than once he’s considered removing his inhibitors)

⛧touchstarved!shadow who loves to go down on you, face shoved between your legs while he devours you entirely, too starved for the taste of you. the passion does not end without you cumming on his tongue as least once, it’s a nonnegotiable rule. you’ve had the pleasure of seeing his skill and technique improve with how often he spread your legs open on his muzzle. where, before, he was slow and curious he was now eager and thorough, lapping at your arousal with fervor

⛧touchstarved!shadow who is weak to your touch on his ears and can’t help but bite down on you whenever you tug on them. never before did he think they would be so sensitive, but never before did anyone actually touch them. the discovery came accidentally when you were stroking his head and your hand wandered a little too far in your distraction. it was a tickle at first, making his ear flick, but then you were massaging the base—lured in by its softness—and his body tensed, tearing him from the relaxed state he’d fallen into and tossing him into the hands of interest. he hadn’t said anything, choosing to remain silent under your hand to preserve your peace, but a flush had settled across his face and he nuzzled further into you as need sank its teeth into the pit of his stomach

⛧touchstarved!shadow who experienced your love for the first time and could never get enough, even months—years—later. he seeks you out constantly, always pulled in by one thing or another, and though he’s much more capable of holding himself together in front of you he still is highly affected by the feel of your skin. By the way you hug him close. Even by the way you hold his hand, where, in his darkest states, he imagines it wrapped around his shaft moving so seductively

⛧touchstarved!shadow yearns for your presence and your warmth so his favorite position is missionary where he can hold you close and hear your symphony of praise directly into his ear. he moves differently in each round, but never fails to start and finish oh so softly; pace slow, deep, and sensual as he reminds you that he loves more than his heart can ever contain

tag list: @justhereforthefiction @hyperaccumulator

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Tfp Soundwave and Shockwave might not interface a lot (or ever), but I can 100% guarantee they know all the best interfacing tips and tricks even if its questionable how they know them 👀.

So any drop of nsfw content for these mighty mechs with a femme cybertrionian reader 🙏🙏would be much appreciated.

Also, remember to hydrate

TFP Soundwave and Shockwave NSFW Headcanons (Femme Reader)

This is literally just a bunch of kinks and I will not apologise for it, tehehe

Many thanks to @mechdyke-after-hours for it's helpful input, I was stuck for ideas, so it deserves much credit !!

Warnings: Intense Kinks (Tentacles, Exhibitionism, Voyerism, Overstim, Somno, Medical Kink, Gun Kink), Oral Sex

Word Count: 721

18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

Soundwave

- As one of the most reserved cons on the Nemesis, Soundwave gives little to no information about himself, let alone his private matters. And most certainly nothing about his relationship with you. For most members onboard who are curious enough, it could spell a life-or-death mission to find out what gets the spy hot and bothered. He keeps his desires under wraps in public, always guarded but never truly depraved of lust.

- But when it eventually does come to the berthroom, that thick impenetrable wall of secrecy unveils a door for you.

- It's definitely been discussed amongst the others whether or not Soundwave could put his tendrils to questionable uses. And they are all correct, you discovered that the spy is very much into tentacle play of the hentai calibre. He'll sit back and let his tentacles do the work for him. He'd tenderly snake them around your limbs, spread you nice and wide before him, and penetrate you in the air. It also gives Soundwave the freedom to use his servos for other means, whether on the computer or knuckle-deep in his own valve.

- The rumours have spread that he's into exhibitionism, ironically enough. Soundwave wouldn't be caught dead exposing himself fully, but he's sneaky enough to encrypt a live feed on the monitors of the Nemesis to any bot who's smart enough to access it. And if they do, they'll be met with the garbled and static moans of you being pounded into the desk.

- Soundwave likes a bit of overstimulation and orgasm denial. He'll keep hold of your frame on his spike while his tentacles pinch and 'suck' on your node, bringing you to the edge in an endless cycle until you're limp and twitching.

- Soundwave has a thing for somno; quiet is his style. He loves recharging beside you, don't get him wrong, but there's something so peaceful yet arousing when he slips a couple digits into your puffy valve. He loves how your frame unconsciously jolts when he rubs circles to your node.

- Overall, one of the freakier mechs on the Nemesis, except, of course...

Shockwave

- When Shockwave met you, he knew he just had to have you, despite the fact that a pretty little femme like you had no business with a mech like him. But it was all about business once he got his mitts on you, making you even sign a waiver. Are you stupid or just insanely charged up for the scientist?

- Interfacing with Shockwave borders between super tame and straight-up morally insane. He tested the waters first, plunging his engorged spike into your tight valve as a "control" for his "experiments". He would show nil emotions, fucking into you on his desk, calculating and observing every whine and gasp.

- Shockwave would test the waters more, observing your obedience to him. He'd make you sit on your knees and flex your glossa for him before making you take his spike to the base of your throat. And he liked using your mouth more than he'd admit, unexpectedly overloading just to watch the transfluid dribble down your chin.

- This is where the waiver comes in. Being a scientist, Shockwave likes to experiment on you. Medical play is where it's at with this mech. He'd start with a helm-to-toe assessment while you're strapped and exposed to him, poking inside your intake, then trailing down to your exposed spark chamber. He'd take samples of your energon, maybe even taste it, the sick fuck. He'd inject different substances and observe your reaction, always taking notes. And yes, his spike is erect and throbbing the entire time.

- And when you thought you couldn't possibly risk your life more, Shockwave has a gun kink, specifically his gun. He'll lean over you on the berth, one thick arm beside your head and the other sticking his cannon between your thighs, teasing your slick valve with the tip. He'd push you to your limits, slowly stretching you over it until he has to hold you down against the berth. The thrill of fucking you with it at the risk of blowing your fragile little frame to bits makes him almost overload above you.

- And, of course, Shockwave will ensure your emotional integrity is still attached, asking if you need anything and supplying you with endless energon for your troubles.

[writers-blockkk]

@vmpssd @dahliapines

💘💘💘💘

These 🌹💐🌹💐💐🌸🌺🌹🌺🌷🌸💐🌺🌹🍫🌹💐🍫🍫🌹🌺🌸🌷🍫💐🌸💐🌺🌹🍫🌷🌷🌺🌸🌷🌺🌸🌺🌹🌹🌹🌷🌺🌺🌸🌺🌹🌹🌷💐🌸💐💐🌺🌹🌸💐🌸🌹🍫🍫🌺🌷🌹🍫🍫🍫 💐🌷r for my mutuals on this valentines day <3

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WHY TF IS THIS SKIN HAT KID TERRORIZING ME!?

I literally see that stupid ad like 6+ times every time I open Tumblr! WTF!?

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[tfp] obsessed!orion pax x human!reader valveplug, minors don't interact!

based on this delicious ask about orion overloading from inhaling your pheromones and some tags provided by @tom-foolery-incorporated <3

word count: 800

Holding Orion’s helm on both sides, you pull him toward you, feeling no resistance from the startled mech. His faceplate lands against your chest, and you immediately envelop him in warmth, letting him sink into the softness of your human body. The familiar shape of your torso and the rhythmic symphony of your heartbeat give him a sense of comfort and belonging, as if, after a long, exhausting day, he has finally found his way home. Orion lifts his optics to you and smiles in gratitude, though you cannot see the expression.

“I missed you,” you murmur tenderly, pressing a kiss to the top of his helm.

“I am glad that our feelings…” he begins, but his words are abruptly cut off by the sudden, unfamiliar scent flooding his olfactory sensors.

It is sweet, unmistakably yours, yet tainted with something unknown — something he cannot name. Has no time to analyze it before the scent overwhelms him, urging to flee, to pull away before it does irreversible damage to his processor. Escaping should not be a challenge; after all, you are not restraining him, granting him full freedom to move. But the problem is that he hesitates to run.

One breath. Then another. And another. Each inhale draws the scent deeper, seeping into his very core, coating his spark, his tank, until it finally reaches the most sensitive parts of his frame, teasing them mercilessly. It creeps behind his interface panel, wrapping around his spike and valve, luring them into a dance with the desire that consumes him in an instant. Just moments ago, all he had wanted was to hold you close, whispering sweet words in your ear, but now — now, the image of sliding his spike into your tight, burning-hot folds is the only thought left in his processor. The only thing he wants to think about. The only thing he can.

Orion takes another involuntary breath, stress-induced from the sudden onslaught of overwhelming need, and it seals his fate.

“[Name]!” he cries out, voice breaking. His concealed spike spasms, and from its tip, thick strands of pink transfluid spill out, splattering against his panel before slowly dripping downward, seeping into the seams, finding their way out. Some rivulets trail down his thighs, while others pool onto the floor beneath him.

“Orion, did you just come?” you ask bluntly. Watching the way his back arches, his optics roll upward, and listening to the symphony of his stifled moans, you are certain of the answer. You should be surprised — after all, you had barely given him any real stimulation to get him to overload — but you know your partner well enough to have learned just how little he needs to unravel. Still, the meaner part of you, the one that always surfaces when Orion is deliciously pathetic, wants to see undeniable evidence of his overload.

“Move your head. I want to see.”

“Ah!” Orion whimpers. “N-No, do not look,” he pleads, suddenly ashamed of the intensity of his own desperation.

His embarrassment does not last long, though, because Orion does not want to pull away. He does not want to lose this intoxicating sense of helplessness, this loss of control that breathing in your scent grants him. He wants to stay right here, drunk on your sweetness.

You roll your eyes. “Oh, now you’re getting shy? Please, I’ve seen you worse.”

“Mhm,” he mumbles, barely processing your words. He inhales again, this time intentionally, and just like before, your scent floods his body. His still-hard, aching spike throbs, pleading for another overload, and his valve clenches around nothing, echoing the demand. He has no choice but to take in more of your scent, to drown himself in it. He presses himself against you harder, as if trying to meld into your body, rubbing his faceplate against your chest in a desperate chase for another untouched, hands-free climax.

Forgetting his own immense strength, he unwittingly forces you several steps backward, making you struggle to keep your balance.

“Hey!” you yelp, giving him a light, scolding pat on the helm. “I almost fell!”

That, finally, seems to snap him out of it — at least for a moment. Orion lifts his optics to meet yours, guilt flickering in his gaze. “A-apologies,” he murmurs, but his focus does not last long. He immediately buries his faceplate back against you, sensitive olfactory sensors dragging over your torso, trying to provoke another overload.

“Ah! [Name], please, help me!” he whines, his voice raw with need. He has to be inside you. Needs to ground himself, to find something solid to cling to, or else he fears he will completely lose his mind.

You sigh, feigning exasperation. “As you wish, love.” and Orion hurriedly retracts his transfluid-slick interface panel.

[writers-blockkk]

how it feels to have no social media presence as an artist