Note: This story was written with assistance by an AI. I provided prompts and edited the results to make sense, creating something resembling a full story.

The barn was too quiet. The cicadas buzzed outside in lazy, vibrating drones, but inside, it was just Peridot hunched over her tablet, fingers twitching, lips curling into that smug little smile she only wore when a plan clicked into place. Lapis had gone out to hover over the lake, pretending to be “free,” pretending she didn’t come back every night because Peridot asked her to. Because she wanted to.

Peridot’s gaze lingered on the open door, the silhouette of Lapis drifting lazily in the twilight. That slender frame, those sharp, suspicious eyes, that mouth that always pressed into a thin, bitter line—so much wasted fire trapped in a girl who’d rather sulk than burn. Peridot tapped her stylus against her tablet and whispered to herself, “I could fix that.”

It wasn’t lust yet. Not exactly. It was hunger, sharp and methodical, like seeing a puzzle box and knowing her fingers had to pry it open. She had watched humans, studied their primitive displays of coupling, had catalogued the subtle signals Gems gave off when they wanted to be touched. She’d seen enough to know what Lapis really was: a storm bottled up too long, waiting for someone smart enough, daring enough, cruel enough to uncork her.

Peridot pushed away from the workbench and stood, her limbs stiff, her grin twitching wide. Tonight wouldn’t be about building machines or upgrading limb enhancers. Tonight would be her first experiment in something… dirtier. Something thrilling. A seduction.

She rehearsed in her head, pacing, muttering. The voice she’d use, soft but cutting. The way she’d sidle up behind Lapis, fingers grazing the curve of her elbow, pretending it was accidental. The words she’d drop, half-insults laced with promise, the kind that would make Lapis snap—then hesitate, then blush.

She imagined it already: Lapis turning those angry eyes on her, ready to shove her away, only to find Peridot already pressing close, daring her, taunting her. That moment when resistance cracked and desire spilled through, violent and unstoppable.

Peridot’s chest hummed with excitement, and she clenched her tiny fists. “Yes… first Lapis. Then…” Her gaze flicked up, eyes glittering with manic ambition.

She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and walked toward the door, the humid air wrapping around her like a promise. Lapis was waiting, water rippling around her ankles, hair glinting with wet sapphire strands.

Peridot smiled, sharp and predatory. The first night she tried, Peridot barely got two steps outside before Lapis turned and gave her that dead-eyed glare that froze her tongue.

“Why are you hovering?” Lapis asked, voice flat as glass, her water wings rippling in irritation.

Peridot fumbled, stammering something about “observation of aquatic Gem rituals” before retreating into the barn, tablet clutched against her chest. When she shut the door, she slammed her back against it, teeth grinding. Failure. Her whole body shook with humiliation and—worse—want.

But she didn’t give up. Oh no. Peridot recorded the exchange, played it back in the privacy of her workstation, studying every flicker of Lapis’s eyes, every shift in her shoulders. She began keeping notes:

• Avoid startling her. Approach slowly.
• Negs only work if softened. Try mixing an insult with a compliment.
• She reacts to confidence. Stammering won’t do. Practice tone modulation.

Peridot practiced on the cows. She’d stride into the pen, point at a bewildered bovine, and say things like, “You’re a lumpy biological mass with surprisingly elegant posture!” The cows mooed, unimpressed. Peridot scribbled more notes.

By the third night, she tried again. Lapis was seated at the edge of the lake, feet trailing in the water, her expression lost in the reflection of the stars. Peridot crept closer, rehearsed line bubbling in her throat.

“You know,” Peridot said, voice tight but steady, “for someone who mopes as often as you, your symmetry is… quite statistically pleasant.”

Lapis blinked. Then she laughed. Actually laughed—short, sharp, incredulous. “Are you… hitting on me?”

Peridot’s face burned green. She flailed, tripped over her words, tried to backpedal. “H-Hitting? On? That’s—ridiculous! I would never—”

Lapis tilted her head, smirking just slightly. “You’re a terrible liar.”

That smirk haunted Peridot the whole night. She wanted more of it. Needed it.

So she recalibrated. This wasn’t just about saying the right things; this was about wearing Lapis down.

Over the next week, Peridot launched her campaign.

• She built a chair just for Lapis, claiming it was “ergonomically superior for sulking.”
• She mocked her brooding, then slid in sly comments about how captivating she looked when she was angry.
• She made excuses to brush past her, fingers lingering just enough to make Lapis stiffen.

Each time, Lapis reacted: sometimes with annoyance, sometimes with suspicion, sometimes—just sometimes—with that dangerous little half-smile.

And each night, Peridot lay awake in her makeshift bed, clutching her pillow, squirming with the restless ache between her thighs. She wanted to push harder, faster, to claim Lapis outright. But she told herself, no. This was a puzzle box. Every lock had to click in order, and the reward would be all the sweeter for the patience.

The barn filled with tension. Lapis started watching her now—sideways glances, curious stares when she thought Peridot wasn’t looking. Peridot noticed, of course. She catalogued every glance like a trophy.

The storm was building. All Peridot had to do was choose the right moment to let it break.

Peridot was meticulous about her campaign, but even she hadn’t predicted how quickly the cracks would show.

The fourth night, Lapis came back from the lake dripping, her hair clinging in dark, wet strands. Peridot looked up from her tablet, throat tightening. She had a line prepared—something about “your aquatic residue is inefficiently distributed”—but the words tangled on her tongue. Lapis tossed her hair back, and water sprayed across the barn, splattering against Peridot’s cheeks.

“Ugh! My circuits—!” she squealed, but Lapis only smirked. Smirked. Like she knew exactly what she was doing.

That night, Peridot lay on her cot, knees clamped together, replaying the way those droplets clung to her skin. She pressed her palm hard against her stomach, whispering, “It’s working. She’s engaging.”

The next day, Peridot tried another tactic: generosity disguised as condescension. She offered Lapis a mechanical brush she had designed, claiming it was for “de-tangling that disaster you call hair.” Lapis rolled her eyes, but she took it. Peridot watched from across the barn as Lapis ran the bristles through her sapphire mane. For a moment, Lapis’s gaze softened, almost thoughtful. Then she caught Peridot staring and snapped, “What are you looking at?”

Peridot looked away, ears burning. “N-Nothing! Just collecting data.”

But when Lapis turned back to her brushing, she did it slower, like she wanted Peridot to watch.

The tension grew in tiny, jagged increments. Lapis would leave her water wings extended longer than necessary, letting them cast glimmering reflections against Peridot’s workspace. She’d stand closer than before, shoulder brushing Peridot’s arm as she reached for something. She’d snap when Peridot teased her, then—minutes later—say something almost playful in return.

One night, as Peridot was hunched over a half-finished drone, she felt Lapis looming behind her. She stiffened, heart hammering.

“You never stop,” Lapis said, voice low, eyes fixed on the glowing circuits.

Peridot swallowed, trying to sound confident. “Of course not. Efficiency requires constant—”

“You’re annoying,” Lapis interrupted.

Then she reached out and tucked a stray lock of Peridot’s hair behind her ear. A tiny gesture. Barely a touch. But it froze Peridot in place, her chest sparking like overloaded wiring.

By the time Peridot whipped around, ready to pounce on the meaning, Lapis was already halfway to the door, wings unfurling. “Don’t blow up the barn,” she muttered, flying off into the night.

Peridot stared after her, mouth dry, fingers trembling around her stylus. That wasn’t rejection. That was the first slip.

She recorded it as “Evidence: Subject initiating non-functional contact. High probability of interest.”

Her grin widened. The puzzle box was loosening, lock by lock.

The air in the barn was getting thicker by the day, humid with late summer heat and the static charge of something neither of them wanted to name. Peridot kept telling herself she was in control of the experiment, but her body betrayed her—her voice pitched sharper, her hands lingered longer, her eyes tracked every sway of Lapis’s hips as if they were magnetic.

One evening, Lapis leaned against the doorframe, dripping from a fresh dip in the lake. The last rays of sunset clung to her skin, turning her into a living shard of sapphire fire. Peridot dropped her wrench, the clang echoing.

“You—” she started, then caught herself, recalibrated, tried for composure. “Your constant saturation is… highly distracting.”

Lapis arched a brow. “Distracting?” She stepped inside, each wet footfall leaving little glistening prints on the barn floor. “You can’t handle a little water?”

Peridot’s fingers twitched at her sides. “I can handle anything.” She marched up, standing barely at Lapis’s chest, chin tipped defiantly. “You think your little routine—gliding in here, dripping everywhere—goes unnoticed? It’s transparent. You want me to look.”

That earned a sharp laugh, sharp but shaky. Lapis looked down, smirk tugging at her lips, but her ears flushed faintly blue. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Yes, but correct,” Peridot snapped back, jabbing a finger at her chest. “Your pupils dilate when I insult you. You hold your breath when I stand too close. You want something. Admit it!”

For a second, Lapis froze. Then, instead of snapping, she reached out and gripped Peridot’s wrist. Not hard. Just enough. Her eyes narrowed. “Careful,” she murmured. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

Peridot’s circuits felt like they were buzzing out of sync. Her voice trembled but stayed sharp. “Oh, I know exactly what I’m asking for.”

The silence stretched, crackling. Lapis let go, turning sharply, wings bursting open as she strode toward the door. “You’re insane,” she said, but her voice wasn’t steady.

Peridot licked her lips, dizzy with victory. She’d seen it—Lapis’s chest rising quicker, the faint heat in her gaze, the hesitation before she let go. The storm was closer than ever.

Over the next few nights, Peridot pushed harder.

• She “accidentally” dropped a screwdriver, then bent to pick it up in a way that brushed her ass against Lapis’s thigh.
• She climbed a ladder and deliberately leaned just far enough that her ass stuck out, pretending not to notice Lapis’s eyes following.
• When Lapis mocked her size, Peridot snapped back with, “Funny, considering you keep letting me stand between your legs.” And she did—pressing close when they argued, shoving herself right into Lapis’s space until those sapphire cheeks burned.

One night, as they argued about chores, Peridot snapped, “Face it—you like me being here. You’d drown in your own gloom without me.”

Lapis lunged, slamming Peridot against the workbench, eyes blazing. Peridot gasped but didn’t cower. She tilted her chin up, lips parting in something between a smirk and a dare.

Lapis’s grip trembled on her shoulders. Her breath fanned hot against Peridot’s face. For a heartbeat, it felt like gravity tilted—the only thing in the universe was that charged sliver of space between their mouths.

Then Lapis shoved away, retreating to the lake with wings snapping open like shutters. “You’re playing with fire,” she muttered before vanishing into the dark.

Peridot stood there panting, her whole body shuddering, her thighs pressed together. She laughed breathlessly, almost hysterical. “Yes. Yes! It’s working. She’s cracking.”

And deep inside, she knew: the next push might break the dam completely.

The barn was hot that night, the air thick with sweat and dust. The fan above clacked uselessly, and Peridot tossed her tablet aside, unable to focus. She could hear Lapis outside—splashing, humming under her breath, a tune that carried through the walls and threaded under Peridot’s skin like static.

She stormed out, fists clenched, voice sharper than she intended. “Do you have to broadcast every noise you make?”

Lapis turned, dripping in the moonlight, hair plastered wet against her back. “Do you have to complain about everything?”

Peridot stomped closer, standing ankle-deep in the shallows just to get in her face. “I complain because you’re infuriating. Because you sit out here like you’re the only one with problems. Because you look at me like—like I’m some kind of joke!”

Lapis’s smirk was there again, but it wavered, thinner this time. “Maybe you are.”

Peridot’s chest heaved. Her whole body shook, not with fear, but with pent-up hunger. “Then why can’t you stop looking?”

The words hung between them like a struck chord. Lapis’s breath hitched—just slightly, but Peridot caught it. She surged forward, clumsy and reckless, and shoved herself up onto her toes. Her mouth crashed against Lapis’s in a hard, messy collision of teeth and lips.

Lapis froze, rigid as ice. For a terrifying second, Peridot thought she’d shoved too far. Then Lapis grabbed her—rough, sudden—fingers tangling in her hair, yanking her closer. The kiss deepened, water sloshing around their legs as Lapis dragged Peridot against her, hungry and furious.

Peridot moaned into it, high-pitched and desperate, clutching at Lapis’s shoulders. She didn’t care how sloppy it was, didn’t care that their teeth clacked, that her glasses nearly slid off her face. This was it—the storm breaking.

Lapis pulled back with a gasp, eyes wild, chest heaving. “You’re insane,” she whispered, voice trembling.

Peridot licked her swollen lips, eyes gleaming. “And you’re addicted.”

For a moment, neither moved, water dripping down their chins, their breaths mingling in hot, ragged bursts. Then Lapis shoved her away—not with cruelty, but with fear, stumbling back toward the lake. She turned, wings snapping open, and vanished into the night sky without another word.

Peridot stood in the shallows, hair mussed, lips bruised, heart hammering like a war drum. Her body was buzzing, thighs slick where they pressed together. She tipped her head back and laughed—loud, giddy, triumphant.

“She kissed back,” Peridot muttered, clutching her fist tight to her chest. “She kissed me back.”

The first lock had finally clicked open.

The next morning, Lapis was at the lake again, face carefully blank, wings dragging in the water. She didn’t even glance at Peridot when she stomped down the ramp with her arms folded tight across her chest.

Peridot stopped just shy of the shoreline, narrowing her eyes. Avoidance behavior. Predictable.

She tipped her head back, put her hands on her hips, and barked, “I’ve analyzed the data from last night’s encounter.”

That got a flicker—Lapis’s shoulders tensing, wings giving a nervous twitch.

Peridot smirked. “Conclusion: you’re not immune. Not even close. In fact…” She took two bold steps forward, splashing into the water until she was right in Lapis’s space, tilting her chin up defiantly. “…you kissed back.”

Lapis’s face colored, lips parting. “I was—caught off guard.”

“Incorrect!” Peridot cut her off, jabbing a finger against Lapis’s chest. “Your pulse accelerated. You tightened your grip. You prolonged contact for—” she checked her tablet with a flourish—“five point seven seconds before disengagement. That’s not instinct. That’s interest.”

Lapis grabbed her wrist, glaring down at her. “You don’t know what you’re playing with.”

“Oh, I do,” Peridot purred, leaning closer, letting her voice drop, low and sharp. “And you like it. You like me pushing you, cornering you, making you admit there’s more inside you than endless moping.”

Lapis’s grip faltered. For a heartbeat, she didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.

Peridot seized the moment. She pressed herself against Lapis’s front, tiny frame hard and insistent, their noses almost touching. “Go on. Deny it. Tell me you don’t lie awake thinking about it.”

Lapis’s pupils blew wide. Her chest rose sharply against Peridot’s. And for once, she had no snappy comeback.

Peridot grinned, sharp and predatory. She slid her wrist free and placed Lapis’s hand right back on her hip, holding it there like a claim. “There. That’s better.”

When Lapis finally tore herself away, she didn’t fly off. She didn’t even look angry. She just stood there, water swirling around her legs, trembling faintly, eyes dark and unreadable.

Peridot strutted back toward the barn, hips swinging exaggeratedly, calling over her shoulder, “Don’t worry! The experiment’s far from finished.”

That night, she deliberately left her cot unmade and climbed into the corner of Lapis’s hammock, muttering something about “field research into nocturnal Gem comfort systems.” Lapis made a noise of protest, but she didn’t shove her out. And when Peridot shifted against her side, warm and clingy, she swore she felt Lapis’s muscles tense—not in anger, but in restraint.

Every inch of progress thrilled Peridot like a new invention sparking to life. She wasn’t fumbling anymore, wasn’t stammering. She was asserting. Taking data. Adjusting methods. Prying at every crack in Lapis’s armor until the storm inside her had nowhere to go but out.

And she knew—knew—it was only a matter of time before Lapis snapped again. Only this time, she wouldn’t be the one retreating.

The hammock nights became Peridot’s laboratory. She’d climb in uninvited, tablet clutched to her chest, muttering about “data collection” until Lapis inevitably rolled her eyes and turned away. But Peridot never stayed on her side. She’d scoot closer. Inch by inch. Pretending to be asleep when her knee brushed against Lapis’s thigh, when her hip pressed into her side, when her hand “slipped” against the curve of her waist.

Lapis always stiffened at first—but never pushed her out. That was proof enough.

By the third night, Peridot ditched the pretense entirely. She climbed in, flopped directly against Lapis’s chest, and announced, “You’re warmer than the cot. Objectively superior sleeping surface.”

Lapis sputtered. “Get off.”

“No,” Peridot said firmly, curling her small body tighter against her. “Experimental protocol dictates maximum contact.”

Lapis didn’t shove her. She just went silent, her heartbeat thundering beneath Peridot’s cheek. Peridot grinned into her shirt.

The boldness bled into the day. While working at the bench, Peridot would slide behind Lapis to “reach a tool,” deliberately grinding her small frame against the swell of Lapis’s ass. When Lapis spun around, eyes flashing, Peridot only smirked. “Don’t glare at me. You’re the one who bent over.”

During arguments, she’d stand so close their noses nearly touched, voice dropping low and dirty: “Your pupils dilate every time I talk like this.”

One afternoon, Lapis was hauling buckets of water when Peridot marched up, planted herself in her path, and reached out to adjust a strand of her hair. Not with the clumsy awkwardness she used to fumble with—but slow, deliberate, fingers sliding along the damp lock until they brushed Lapis’s cheek.

Lapis froze, breath catching.

“See?” Peridot whispered, eyes gleaming. “You let me touch you now.”

That night in the hammock, Peridot didn’t just curl up beside her. She straddled Lapis’s thigh, her small body pressing down, rocking ever so slightly as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“Comfort calibration,” she muttered, feigning casualness even as her cheeks burned. “Testing pressure points.”

Lapis’s breath hitched, hand twitching at her side, dangerously close to grabbing Peridot and flipping her over. She didn’t. She held herself rigid, jaw clenched, eyes fixed on the ceiling as Peridot shifted again, the friction undeniable.

Peridot’s voice came out shaky but confident, lips brushing Lapis’s ear. “You could stop me anytime.”

The silence that followed was thick and trembling, every second a battle Lapis was losing.

Peridot grinned wickedly in the dark. The experiment was reaching its breakthrough.

The barn creaked and swayed in the night breeze, cicadas rasping in the dark, but inside the hammock everything was coiled tight—breath, muscle, need.

Peridot lay half on top of Lapis, pretending she was “asleep.” Her thigh pressed deliberately between Lapis’s legs, grinding in tiny, insistent motions. At first she’d kept it subtle, soft enough that Lapis might pretend it was nothing. But tonight she didn’t hold back. Her little body rocked harder, shameless friction building heat where their bodies met.

Lapis’s hands gripped the hammock ropes so tight they creaked. Her chest heaved, every breath unsteady.

Peridot’s eyes snapped open, gleaming with triumph. “I can feel you trembling.” Her voice was soft, husky, nothing like her usual bark. “You’re letting me.”

Lapis turned her head sharply, jaw clenched, but she didn’t push her away.

Peridot’s grin turned feral. She sat up, straddling Lapis properly now, tiny fingers planted against her chest to pin her down. “You’re stronger. You could throw me across the barn. But you don’t. Why?” She ground down, deliberately, and felt the shiver run through Lapis’s whole frame. “Because you like me on top.”

A strangled noise tore from Lapis’s throat—half growl, half moan.

Peridot leaned low, lips brushing the edge of her jaw. “Say it. Admit you want this.”

Lapis’s eyes snapped shut, as if that might protect her. But her thighs shifted, parting just enough for Peridot to sink deeper between them.

Peridot gasped, then laughed breathlessly. “You’re helping me.” She rolled her hips again, harder this time, her small body rocking with messy, frantic confidence. “Oh, stars—Lapis, you’re soaked.”

Lapis groaned, hands jerking free from the ropes. She grabbed Peridot’s hips, as if to lift her off—but instead dragged her down harder, grinding their bodies together in a fevered rhythm.

“Yes,” Peridot hissed, nails digging into Lapis’s chest. “That’s it. Don’t hold back. Use me.”

The hammock swung wildly with their movements, ropes creaking, fabric straining under their weight. Peridot rode her with manic determination, every thrust of her hips punctuated by sharp little moans she couldn’t stifle. “You like this—you need this—you’re mine now!”

Lapis broke then. The dam shattered. Her hands clamped hard on Peridot’s ass, guiding her movements, forcing her down against the slick heat between her thighs. She panted raggedly, eyes wide and wild, voice trembling. “You—insufferable—little—”

“Genius,” Peridot gasped, cutting her off with a bruising kiss, all teeth and tongue and victory.

Their bodies crashed together in frantic, desperate rhythm, the hammock swaying so violently it threatened to spill them out. Peridot didn’t care. She rode Lapis like a machine at full charge, gasping, shuddering, drunk on power.

When Lapis finally broke apart beneath her, crying out, bucking hard against her, Peridot threw her head back and laughed, triumphant and breathless. She ground down through the aftershocks, milking every last shiver, refusing to stop until Lapis was wrecked and trembling beneath her.

Then she collapsed forward, panting, her face buried against Lapis’s neck. “Experiment successful,” she murmured, voice ragged but smug. “Subject… completely compromised.”

Lapis’s only answer was a groan, her arms wrapping tight around Peridot’s small body, clinging to her even as her pride shattered.

Peridot smiled into her skin.

Lapis hadn’t run the next morning. That was the first sign.

She stayed. Hovered around the barn, eyes heavy-lidded, arms crossed tight, answering Peridot’s every quip with half-hearted glares that crumbled too quickly. Whenever Peridot brushed past her, Lapis didn’t pull away. If anything, she leaned—subtle, unspoken, like her body had betrayed her resolve.

Peridot catalogued every detail with smug delight. Her experiment wasn’t finished. It was only just beginning.

That night, she climbed into the hammock like she owned it. No excuses about “field research” this time—she simply straddled Lapis’s hips, tablet tossed aside, and smirked down at her. “You’re going to stop pretending, starting now.”

Lapis exhaled sharply, already flustered. “Pretending what?”

Peridot leaned down until their noses brushed. “That you don’t crave me crawling all over you.” Her small hand slid boldly down the flat plane of Lapis’s stomach, nails tracing lightly enough to make her muscles twitch. “That you don’t like giving in.”

Lapis’s jaw clenched, but her breath caught when Peridot’s fingers trailed lower, hovering just shy of where her thighs pressed tight. Peridot stopped there, deliberately pulling back with a wicked grin. “See? You hold your breath every time.”

Peridot wanted more. She wanted to prove how completely she owned this oceanic powerhouse who used to terrify her. Her gaze dropped, predatory, to where Lapis’s bare feet hung over the edge of the hammock, pale in the moonlight, toes curling nervously.

A deliciously devious thought struck her.

“You’re always barefoot,” she murmured, sliding down Lapis’s body, planting little kisses along her sternum, her stomach, lower still. Lapis tensed, eyes widening as Peridot’s lips brushed her ankle. “Almost like you’re showing them off to me…”

“W–What are you—” Lapis started, but her voice broke into a gasp as Peridot’s mouth closed over her arch, tongue flicking experimentally.

The reaction was immediate. Lapis’s back arched, a strangled moan slipping free before she clamped a hand over her own mouth.

Peridot pulled back just enough to grin up at her, smug and sharp. “Ah-ha. Sensitivity detected.”

“You’re insane,” Lapis groaned through her fingers, but her toes curled tighter, thighs shifting restlessly.

Peridot didn’t let up. She licked a long stripe up the curve of Lapis’s foot, then sucked her big toe into her mouth with a loud, wet pop. Lapis’s eyes fluttered shut, her entire body jerking as if a current had ripped through her.

Peridot moaned theatrically around it, bobbing her head, deliberately sloppy. When she pulled back, a string of spit connected her lips to Lapis’s skin. “Delicious,” she said smugly, dragging her tongue across her sole again. “And you’re shaking. You like this.”

Lapis was panting now, hair sticking to her flushed cheeks, her composure completely undone. “I—don’t—”

“Yes, you do.” Peridot bit gently at her heel, then nibbled her way up the delicate curve of her ankle, eyes glittering with cruel triumph. “Every part of you is mine to explore. Even the ones you didn’t know you wanted touched.”

Lapis whined, a desperate, broken sound that thrilled Peridot to her core. She pressed herself back up along Lapis’s trembling body, straddling her chest again, planting her palms on either side of her head.

“You’re addicted already,” she whispered against her lips. “And I’m not finished until you admit it out loud.”

Lapis stared at her, eyes dark, lips parted, trembling between defiance and surrender.

Peridot smirked wider. The storm had bent. Now it was time to break it completely.

The hammock swayed in the dark, ropes creaking under the weight of tension more than the Gems themselves. Peridot sat perched on Lapis’s chest, knees digging into her sides, her tiny fingers gripping Lapis’s cheeks to keep her gaze locked forward.

“No more sulking. No more running,” Peridot hissed, lips curling into a sharp little grin. “You kissed me. You let me touch you. You let me in your bed. That means you’re mine.”

Lapis’s eyes flashed, a last flicker of resistance. “You’re… you’re ridiculous.”

Peridot pressed harder on her cheeks, forcing her lips into a pout. “Wrong answer. Try again.” She ground her hips down against Lapis’s sternum, dragging slow friction, letting a gasp escape her throat just to show she was enjoying herself. “Say it. Say you want me.”

Lapis turned her head, refusing. “I don’t—”

Peridot grabbed her chin, yanked her face back. Her voice cracked higher, breathless but commanding: “Then why are you wet when I climb on top of you? Why do you shiver every time I touch you? Why didn’t you throw me off when I had your toes in my mouth?”

A sharp, broken sound tore from Lapis’s throat, half-groan, half-admission.

Peridot leaned down until their lips brushed, every word hot and taunting. “Say it. Say you want me. Beg for me like the moody little waterlogged mess you are.”

Lapis’s hands gripped the hammock ropes again, knuckles white, her chest heaving beneath Peridot. She bit her lip, trying to hold it in.

Peridot ground down harder, whimpering through clenched teeth. “I won’t stop. I’ll keep grinding against you, keep sucking your feet, keep teasing you until you break in half. Say it!”

Lapis snapped. Her head fell back, a guttural cry ripping from her throat. “Fine! I want you, damn it—I need you!”

Peridot’s whole body quivered at the sound. Her grin split wide, manic, victorious. “Yes! That’s it. Again!”

Lapis’s eyes fluttered shut, her voice rough and raw. “I want you. I want you on top of me, touching me, owning me—stars, Peridot—please.”

The word “please” nearly made Peridot combust. She slapped a hand over Lapis’s mouth, leaning down to whisper against her ear. “Good little puddle. That’s what I wanted. You belong to me now.”

Lapis trembled, whined into her palm, but didn’t fight it. If anything, her body arched up into Peridot’s, desperate for more contact.

Peridot rocked against her chest again, moaning softly at the sensation, her glasses sliding crooked on her nose. She felt drunk on power, on control, on dragging the mighty Lapis Lazuli down into need.

“You’re mine,” she whispered, pulling her hand away only to kiss her roughly, biting at her lower lip. “Say it again.”

Lapis moaned into her mouth, voice muffled but clear: “Yours.”

Peridot laughed, breathless, triumphant. “Perfect. Exactly where I want you.”

The barn rocked with the swing of the hammock, their tangled bodies creaking against the ropes. Peridot knew she’d done it: the experiment wasn’t just successful—it was a total breakthrough. Lapis Lazuli was compromised, captured, and addicted.

And Peridot was already hungry for the next test.

The ropes groaned with every shift of weight, the hammock swaying like it could snap at any second, but neither of them cared. Peridot had Lapis pinned, small body grinding down, hands clawing at her until the taller Gem’s proud posture collapsed into trembling need.

Peridot broke the kiss with a wet pop, lips glistening, eyes manic. “You belong to me now. Say it again.”

Lapis’s voice came ragged, almost a sob. “I belong to you.”

“Louder.” Peridot rocked her hips harder, dragging friction against her belly, her tiny frame trembling with each motion. “Make it sound like you mean it.”

“I—I belong to you!” Lapis cried, back arching, wings splaying wide enough to nearly tip them both from the hammock.

Peridot cackled, breathless, then slid down her body with ruthless intent. Her fingers gripped Lapis’s thighs, prying them apart despite her squirming. “Spread for me. Come on. I want to see how wet my sulky little ocean slut gets for me.”

Lapis gasped, face burning, but she obeyed—knees falling open, the dark heat between them gleaming with slick. Peridot’s mouth watered.

She leaned in, tongue darting out to taste. One slow lick, from entrance to clit, savoring every salty-sweet drop.

Lapis cried out, hips jerking upward. “Oh—stars—!”

Peridot pulled back, chin slick, eyes wild. “Say it. Say you’re my slut.”

Lapis shook her head desperately, eyes squeezed shut.

Peridot bit her inner thigh, sharp enough to make her jolt. “Say it, or I’ll stop.”

Her whole body shuddered. Finally, Lapis’s voice broke free: “I’m your slut!”

Peridot purred, diving back in with greedy slurps, her tongue circling, stabbing deep, teasing every twitch until Lapis was thrashing in the hammock. She flicked her clit mercilessly, then pulled back just long enough to sneer, “Whose slut?”

“Yours!” Lapis wailed, voice raw. “I’m your slut—yours—Peridot, please!”

That “please” rang in Peridot’s ears like victory bells. She clamped her mouth down again, sucking hard until Lapis screamed, wings beating uselessly against the barn walls. Peridot didn’t let up, moaning into her cunt, drool and slick soaking her face.

When Lapis finally shattered, it was violent—her whole body arched, trembling, a strangled scream ripping from her throat as she came hard against Peridot’s tongue.

Peridot lapped it up, greedily swallowing every gush, riding her convulsions like triumph. When Lapis finally collapsed back into the hammock, limp and gasping, Peridot crawled up over her, face glistening, lips wet with her taste.

She grabbed Lapis’s chin, forcing her to look at her, and whispered hoarsely: “Good girl. My slut. My first.”

Lapis whimpered, dazed, too wrecked to argue. She only nodded faintly, eyes glassy, chest still heaving.

Peridot kissed her again, shoving her own taste between Lapis’s lips, making her swallow it down.

When she pulled back, she smirked, cheeks flushed, eyes glittering with smug triumph. “Experiment complete. Subject fully converted.”

She nestled against Lapis’s chest then, satisfied, humming softly to herself as if she hadn’t just torn the proudest Gem she knew into a panting, begging mess.

And Lapis—silent, trembling—wrapped her arms around Peridot, holding her close like she couldn’t bear to let her go.