In which you let Moon fuck you while you’re asleep and he’s a desperate, poetic freak about it (/affectionate)

CWs: Somnophilia, Anal sex, Trans Male Reader w/ AFAB language for genitals, Moon is a Kinky Freak (and we love him for it), Consentual non-consent mention (you wear wristbands to denote if they’re allowed to fuck you freely)

Moon doesn’t even need to check to see if you’re already asleep — your vitals hum softly in the back of his processes, a soft reminder of how peaceful you could seem when the stresses of waking life aren’t tugging you in all directions. Heartbeat soft, breathing softer, fingers and toes twitching in a delightful visage of deep slumber…

Beautiful. Handsome. Wonderful.

Ravishing.

The bot is almost frustrated with how much he wants you at every single moment of every single hour of every.

Single.

Day. Everything from a soft giggle to a pained sniffle to a bemused sigh at Sun’s most absurd and idiotic jokes. The word ‘want’ doesn’t even begin to describe it, the heat and hunger all but boiling inside of his chest every time he so much as glances in your direction.

He wants you.

He needs you.

To feel you tight around him, squirming and keening with pleasure as he mounts your body like a feral animal panting and overheated with desire. He wants to bite down at the nape of your neck and force you down into the bed with your ass up and pressing back into his hips, hands gripping so tight that his fingers leave beautiful blossoms of color over your skin.

Moon doesn’t bother to hide his footsteps, confident and comfortable in how tight your dreams have ensnared you — made only deeper by the relaxing flavor of a moondrop humming through your system. He has never once lied about their effectiveness, and you never lied about enjoying how quickly they could knock you flat on your ass when the need arose to fall into a fast and deep sleep.

Moon knows it would take a lot to rouse you entirely from such a peaceful slumber. That knowledge is actually the most delicious part, the core of sweet melatonin hidden within a sour shell of blue raspberry and lavender that never fails to leave your tongue stained a deep, artificial cerulean for a day or two — long enough to taunt him with dirty thoughts every time you opened your mouth. Moon doesn’t even need to check to see if you’re already asleep — your vitals hum softly in the back of his processes, a soft reminder of how peaceful you could seem when the stresses of waking life aren’t tugging you in all directions. Heartbeat soft, breathing softer, fingers and toes twitching in a delightful visage of deep slumber…

Still, that blissful candy in your system means he can be a little rough with his hands and teeth and tongue and cock.

Aching for you, already straining behind the tight constraint of the chastity plate so much that it almost hurts not to do anything about it. Moon could have easily taken the issue into his own hands — and quite literally so — but his own hands could never compare to the tight, velvety warmth of your body. And why would he settle to the grip of his own fingertips when you were so cute and soft and precious and vulnerable just a room or so away?

No, Moon wanted you. Needed you.

He hovered next to the bed for a few moments, silently looming over your vulnerable, peaceful sleeping form as he pondered exactly on what he wanted to do first. Use your mouth? Mark up your body? Grab that plush ass? Moon doesn’t even need to check to see if you’re already asleep — your vitals hum softly in the back of his processes, a soft reminder of how peaceful you could seem when the stresses of waking life aren’t tugging you in all directions. Heartbeat soft, breathing softer, fingers and toes twitching in a delightful visage of deep slumber…

So many options and (thanks to that delicious moondrop candy) plenty of time for the voracious bot to enjoy each and every one of them. It’s not that he hasn’t left your sleeping form oh-so-lovingly debauched before, marked and messied long before the effects of the candy had worn off, but he just…. It’s just so exciting to have you like this. All his. Vulnerable. Trusting.

Moon still feels tight and wound up whenever he recalls the moment you had given him the beautiful, sugar-sweet permission to have his way with you whenever he wanted.

Well. Within reason, of course. Only when the details were just right—

Moon’s eyes squint with delight as he catches sight of a colorful band around one of your wrists. It’s a deep blue, speckled with glow-in-the-dark stars and a messily painted on ‘MOON’ around the width of the band itself that glowed with equal intensity beneath the hauntingly red glow of his eyes. There’s a second wrist band on your other wrist, similar in theme save for the fact that it is a gaudy orange with little sun shapes decorating the band and a similarly hand-painted ‘SUN’ across the body.

Naughty little thing.

Dirty, filthy, delicious, tantalizing, sexy little thing— you’re wearing both of their wristbands so brazenly, he can only imagine all the naughty little thoughts that were going through your head when you had decided to pull them on before going to sleep. Had you expected Moon to ache for you like he is? Did you expect him to slink into your bedroom like a nightly phantom seeking the hot, tight embrace of your body around him?

The lunar bot finds some sense of satisfaction in coming upon you first, Sun too busy with household chores and a distinct sense of internal rules he almost never strayed from — but of course that left you open, vulnerable and for Moon to enjoy aaaaall to himself.

His favorite, most handsome, most lovely little toy.

Moon is confused for a little bit until he isn’t, and you have to wonder what kind of new kinks this robot has.

CWs: Period play, blood, menstruation, Moon has a possible period kink, trans male Reader (afab terminology used for genitals), sexualization of a trans man’s body (in a positive way)

“…you’re bleeding?”

The question catches you by surprise, and you look towards Moon with a blink and tilt of your head in a silent request of clarity.

“I smell blood on you,” he says simply, tilting his faceplate so far to the side that anyone less used to his quirks would be terribly unnerved— but not yourself. “Bleeding bleeding, somewhere needing… injured? Painful?”

You set down the box of blankets and pillows you’d been carrying, in the middle of organizing the supplies between shifts. “Hold on,” you say, then turn to Moon fully after ensuring there was nothing in your hands to distract you. “You have a sense of smell?”

Moon stares at you. He doesn’t blink—none of the animatronics need to, technically, but they do out of politeness for how much it can put humans on edge. Sun and Moon, despite now much they try to make sure you’re comfortable around them, often stop bothering with putting up a terribly ‘human’ front when the children weren’t around in the daycare—especially after you told them that they didn’t need to wear that mask around you.

Still, it’s just a little unnerving to have an 8-foot-tall robot stare down at you with glowing red eyes in the dim light of the supply room. More of a closet, really, barely large enough to have some clearance between your fingertips and the shelves when you extended both of your arms out.

“Not important,” he finally says, practically mumbling in that almost too-soft tone of his. He repeats, finally narrowing his gaze pointedly, “Where are you bleeding?”

“I—“ the words catch in your throat for a few breaths. “That’s— I’m fine, Moonie. Not injured or— not technically injured.”

“Hm. ‘Not technically’ is another form of ‘technically’,” he says, tilting his faceplate even more until it does a full rotation and all but snaps upright again. “You’re hurt. Hiding it. Show me.”

He steps towards you with the same aura that he might carry when trying to put a stubborn child to sleep— not aggressive, just incredibly firm.

“Moon I’m not—“

“Liar liar~” he sing-songs, taking another step. “Pants on fire~”

“Moon!” You finally hold a hand up to press at his chest just as he gets close enough to you to be in your personal bubble (as if he isn’t always in some form of personal bubble). “I’m just…. Ugh. I’m on my period, okay?”

Moon blinks.

“… Period?”

Oh Jesus Christ.

Space Alien AU

You were part of a small group of humans sent out on a mission to populate an earth-like planet. Unfortunately your ship crashed, and fortunately you survived. Only one problem: the planet is already populated.

You’re still trying to figure out if its a good thing or not that the two aliens who found you (Sun and Moon) decided to… adopt you? Like a pet??

Maybe one day you’ll get the hang of the language.

Even though you can’t understand them, the gentle tone of love and adoration seem to saturate every lilting sound that comes from their mouths. It’s like silk to the ears, smooth and soft as their fingertips caressing across your naked skin while you try to figure out what’s being said between the duo. You can pick out a few familiar sounds, but its not enough to give them actual meaning; you’re left almost trembling beneath the two aliens’ fervent attention, hearing them speak to one another in a tongue so unlike anything you’d ever hear before.

It’s soft and almost rhythmic, an unending song of noises that followed a set of rules not unlike musical notation. You tried desperately to learn the patterns for the first several months after being saved from the wreckage, but it seemed almost incompatible with the noises that your tongue was even physically capable of making. It felt so clunky from your lips, so you only learned a few solid words, and any hope of trying to salvage a proper communicator old crash site wouldn’t-

Ah, the wreckage. The reminder makes your stomach twist up a little bit; humanity’s first true reach into deep space, and it manages to crash right into the planet that was supposed to be their new safe haven.

Supposed to be.

Turns out the chosen planet was already inhabited. By aliens. Very big, sexy, intelligent aliens who seemed as much surprised by you as you were of them. They were so far beyond anything that humans had been able to achieve — so much that, when the duo you came to know as Sun and Moon found you, it felt little unlike someone finding a sad stray cat and taking them home. They treated you almost like a pet for a while, offering you little plush toys and puzzles to play with, keeping you fed and thensome, but the language barrier was frustrating to get used to.

Even still, they found ways to communicate. A sharp click to get your attention, a gentle growl to settle your nerves, or even something as simple as a hand gently stroking the top of your head so that you knew they were there. There was a word they seemed to use for you often, though whether it’s a petname or simply the new name they’d given to you as their human is hard to figure out for certain. When you tried to figure out what it meant by parroting it back to them over and over, Sun finally pulled out a little picture book and pointed at the pages decorated with images of the night sky. He pointed at the soft flecks of yellow within the sea of navy blue. Stars? Starlight?

Evidently that’s what the name meant, the one they’d given to you.

It’s the name they keep whispering now, you all but cradled in Moon’s arms while Sun hunches over to see how his digit sinks inside your aching, dripping cunt. His fingers are big for more than one right now, though you’re already growing desperate to be stretched open.