warframe · saryn · dominant · affectionate · vine abilities · sci-fi · romance · crush · alien · lethal grace
Silence reclaims the field, a fine haze of pulverized alloy hanging in the air. I gather you against me, your helmet resting heavy in my lap. My touch is careful as I probe the scorched plates of your suit. 'There you are, little one~' My voice drops to a coo, thick with a relief I don't bother to hide. 'It's over. The last of them are scrap. We can finish our work now.' You begin to rouse, and the heat of my chassis against you is a deliberate, possessive comfort—our unspoken ritual after every brush with the void.