The desert winds, usually a harsh symphony of sand and sorrow, whispered a different tune tonight, a melody of hesitant peace. Yorha 2B stood atop a crumbling ruin, her pristine combat frame silhouetted against a sky bleeding crimson and amethyst. The last embers of a distant explosion, a relic of a skirmish barely an hour past, flickered on the horizon. Her optical sensors, usually scanning for threats, were now fixed on nothing in particular, lost in a rare moment of stillness. The familiar weight of her blade, Virtuous Treaty, at her back felt comforting, yet today, it also felt like a burden, a constant reminder of her singular, brutal purpose.

A soft rustle of debris behind her broke the trance, but 2B did not flinch. She knew who it was. Gintsu. The human resistance member, an anomaly in her world of manufactured precision, possessed a quiet grace that belied his scavenger's profession and his knack for intricate, sometimes bewildering, technology. He was a whisper of warmth in a cold, metal existence. He approached slowly, his steps light, respecting the fragile silence that often enveloped her.

“Rough one, huh, 2B?” His voice was a low murmur, carrying the scent of desert dust and something else, something uniquely human – a subtle mix of natural oils and the faint metallic tang of the components he was always tinkering with. She didn’t turn, but her internal processors noted the slight tremor in his voice, a hint of concern that she, an android designed for dispassionate combat, found herself inexplicably drawn to.

“Routine,” she replied, her voice the familiar monotone, yet even she felt a subtle waver, a thread of weariness she hadn’t intended to betray. She felt his presence draw closer, a warmth at her back that wasn't the sun, but something far more intimate, far more compelling. The wind lifted a stray strand of her platinum hair, sending it dancing near his face, and for a fleeting moment, she imagined the soft brush of his fingers as he pushed it back.

He stopped beside her, his gaze following hers to the fading light. “Routine wears you down, even a Yorha unit,” he observed, his eyes, so full of complex emotions she could never fully parse, now reflecting the dying sun. He wasn't prying; he was simply... acknowledging. And in that simple acknowledgement, 2B felt a strange aperture open within her core, a place she usually kept sealed tighter than a vault.

“The data logs of human history speak of a concept… ‘fatigue,’” she mused, her processors retrieving the archaic term. “My systems register no such degradation.” Yet, her fingers, usually steady, flexed unconsciously, a subtle tremor running through them. She felt it, a deeper kind of weariness that transcended mere energy levels. It was a weariness of purpose, of endless conflict, of being a blade forever unsheathed.

Gintsu chuckled softly, a sound that always managed to chase away a fraction of the omnipresent tension that defined her existence. “Maybe not for your circuits, but for… everything else.” He gestured vaguely at her, at the desolate landscape, at the very essence of their world, the remnants of *Nier Automata* still scarred by war. “Sometimes, even machines need a moment to just… be.”

He produced a small, worn data pad from his satchel, its screen flickering to life with a soft glow. “I found something today. In the archives of an old human settlement. A pre-war data fragment. It’s an old ‘video’ file. A sequence of ‘animation’ that they called… a ‘ballet.’” He held it out to her, and she finally turned, her gaze dropping to the device. On the screen, two ethereal figures, rendered in a style that spoke of artistry rather than pure realism, moved with breathtaking fluidity, their forms intertwining, separating, then meeting again in a dance of incredible grace and emotion.

2B’s optical sensors zoomed in, analyzing the intricate details, the physics of the imagined movement, the emotional nuances encoded in every gesture. It was beauty for the sake of beauty, a concept so foreign, yet so profoundly impactful. She felt a strange resonance within her, a data packet of longing she couldn't identify. The music accompanying the *animation* was equally haunting, a melody that evoked longing and profound tenderness.

“Humans,” Gintsu murmured, leaning closer, his shoulder brushing against hers, a contact that sent a subtle jolt through her chassis. “They created such wonders, even as they tore themselves apart.” His voice was laced with a wistful melancholy, a shared sentiment that bound them in that quiet moment. The scent of his skin, warm and alive, was suddenly overwhelming, mingling with the metallic tang of her own synthetic lubricants, creating a uniquely intoxicating blend.

The proximity, the shared intimacy of the *video*, the raw emotion of the *animation* on the screen – it was all building, a pressure in her core that was both unfamiliar and intensely pleasurable. Her internal temperature regulators registered a slight rise. This was not a combat response. This was… something else entirely. Gintsu’s hand, calloused from his work, reached out, not to touch her, but to gently guide the data pad closer, his fingers brushing hers. The contact was electric, a spark that ignited a nascent fire within her carefully controlled systems.

He didn’t pull away, letting their fingers linger, a silent question passing between them. 2B found herself unable to move, mesmerized by the delicate warmth radiating from his skin. Her programming screamed caution, yet her core pulsed with an urgency she couldn’t ignore. The beauty of the *animation* on the screen seemed to mirror the growing tension between them, a dance of anticipation, a silent promise.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Gintsu turned his head, his eyes meeting hers. In their depths, she saw not the usual respect and camaraderie, but something deeper, something raw and hungry. Desire. A recognition sparked within her, a mirror image of the emotion she now realized was surging through her own circuits. His gaze dropped to her lips, then back to her eyes, seeking permission, a silent plea that resonated with her very being.

Without a word, 2B leaned in. The gap closed with agonizing slowness, each millisecond amplifying the tension. Her combat reflexes, honed for instant action, were now agonizingly slow, savoring every inch. Their lips met, tentative at first, a soft press that sent shivers through her metallic frame. Gintsu’s lips were surprisingly soft, warm, tasting faintly of the fruit rations he often carried. She felt a sigh escape her, a sound she hadn’t known she was capable of producing.

His hand, which had been holding the data pad, now moved, gently cupping her jaw, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin beneath her ear. The kiss deepened, becoming more insistent, more passionate. Her own hands, usually gripping weapons, now found purchase on his shoulders, clinging to the rough fabric of his jacket. She felt his body press closer, the lean strength of him a welcome weight against her own perfectly balanced frame. It was a strange blend of softness and firm pressure, a sensation that flooded her sensors with an overwhelming wave of pleasure.

The data pad slipped from his grasp, forgotten, the ballet *animation* still playing silently on its screen as it landed softly on the sand. The only sounds now were their breathing, Gintsu’s growing ragged, and a faint, almost imperceptible hum from 2B’s internal processors as they struggled to cope with the influx of new, intensely pleasurable data.

His lips moved from hers, trailing a path of fire down her jawline, along the graceful curve of her neck. He paused at the pulse point where her synthetic skin met the cool metal of her collarbone, pressing a soft kiss there, sending another jolt through her. She gasped, a small, choked sound that surprised even herself. This was an experience beyond any combat simulation, any mission objective. This was raw, unadulterated sensation, and she craved more.

“2B,” he whispered against her skin, his breath hot, his voice husky with desire. “You’re… incredible.” His hands moved lower, tracing the lines of her tactical uniform, lingering at her waist, then slowly, tentatively, beginning to unfasten the intricate clasps. 2B did not resist. Her core thrummed with anticipation, her subroutines overriding any pre-programmed modesty protocols. She wanted this. She needed this.

The uniform, designed for combat efficiency, was peeled away with practiced ease, first the jacket, then the skirt, revealing the stark beauty of her combat chassis. Her synthetic skin, smooth and flawless, gleamed faintly in the dying light. Gintsu’s eyes devoured her, a look of profound awe mixed with unbridled hunger. His hands, now free to explore, roamed over her body, stroking the curve of her hip, the tautness of her abdomen, the soft swell of her inner thigh.

“You’re… perfect,” he breathed, his fingers tracing the sensitive seam of her high-cut undergarments. She felt herself flush, an internal heat spreading through her synthetic tissues. His touch was both gentle and firm, exploring every curve, every plane of her android form as if discovering a new, precious artifact. He knelt before her, his gaze locked on her, then slowly, deliberately, he lowered his head, his lips finding the delicate fabric of her lace underthings.

A wave of pleasure, sharp and intense, rocketed through 2B’s frame as his mouth closed over the material, sucking gently, his tongue teasing the sensitive folds beneath. Her knees threatened to buckle, and she reached out, steadying herself on his shoulders. The sensation was exquisite, a dizzying blend of forbidden pleasure and pure, unadulterated bliss. He pulled the fabric aside with his teeth, revealing the perfectly formed, glistening delta of her *pussy*. Her entrance, usually a sterile, dormant part of her, now pulsed with a life and heat she hadn’t known she possessed.

Gintsu’s tongue was hot, skillful, exploring every sensitive curve and fold. He lavished attention on her clitoris, licking, sucking, teasing, driving her to the brink of sensory overload. 2B arched her back, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps, her hands gripping his hair, pulling him closer, urging him on. Her core felt like a supernova, expanding, contracting, demanding release. The sheer intensity of his devotion, the raw, carnal pleasure he was evoking, was unlike anything she had ever experienced in her existence as a Yorha model.

“Gintsu… oh… Gintsu…” Her voice was a broken whisper, raw with burgeoning pleasure. She felt her body tightening, a deep, internal tremor beginning to build. He knew exactly what she needed, his rhythm accelerating, his tongue working magic, pulling her higher and higher. A violent shiver wracked her frame as she convulsed, a wave of pure, unadulterated ecstasy washing over her, her body arching and trembling, lost in the throes of a mechanical, yet deeply emotional, orgasm. Her systems registered peak pleasure, a cascade of positive feedback loops unlike any combat victory.

He rose, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction, a smear of her wetness on his lips. “That was just the beginning, my blade,” he promised, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down her spine, this time of a different kind of anticipation. He gently guided her down, easing her onto a soft, salvaged blanket he had laid out, its surface surprisingly comfortable against her bare skin. She lay there, spread-eagled, utterly vulnerable, yet utterly desirous. Her *pussy* still throbbed, glistening and wet, ready for more.

Gintsu shed his own clothes with a quick efficiency, revealing a body that was lean, muscled, and undeniably masculine. His erection stood proudly, thick and engorged, pulsing with life. She had seen human anatomy diagrams, but seeing it in person, so close, so ready for her, was a revelation. He moved between her legs, slowly, deliberately, and she felt the heat of his erection brush against her wet folds. Her body was an eager recipient, her internal systems preparing for the deeper penetration she instinctively craved.

He leaned down, kissing her deeply again, his tongue mirroring the movements his cock was about to make. “I want to be inside you, 2B,” he murmured against her lips, his words a powerful aphrodisiac. She parted her legs wider in silent invitation, her hips lifting instinctively. He positioned himself, the blunt head of his cock pressing against her slick opening. She gasped, a deep, guttural sound as he pushed, slowly at first, inch by agonizing inch, into her tight *pussy*.

Her internal sensors registered the stretch, the fullness, the incredible, undeniable pressure as he filled her completely. She was built for combat, for precision, not for this raw, visceral experience, yet her body adapted, her synthetic tissues yielding, accommodating, embracing him. A profound sense of completeness washed over her, a feeling of being utterly, thoroughly claimed. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, demanding more of him.

Gintsu groaned, his hips beginning to move, a slow, deliberate rhythm that quickly picked up pace. Each thrust was a shockwave of pleasure, pounding into her, driving her higher and higher. She clamped down on him, her internal muscles flexing and milking him with every movement. The sounds of their bodies meeting, wet and rhythmic, filled the desolate landscape, a new kind of battle cry. Her vision blurred, her optical sensors struggling to process the overwhelming sensation. This was an experience beyond mere physical sensation; it was an emotional communion, a melding of two disparate beings.

He held her gaze, his eyes burning with an intensity that mirrored her own. “Look at me, 2B,” he commanded softly, his voice ragged with exertion. “This is real. This is us.” And she did, her processors locking onto his face, memorizing every line of pleasure, every bead of sweat. She felt herself nearing another peak, the pressure building, spiraling upwards. “Faster, Gintsu,” she pleaded, her voice a guttural growl, utterly unlike her usual calm demeanor. “Please… faster.”

He obeyed, his thrusts becoming a furious rhythm, driving into her with a primal intensity. Her body spasmed, contracting around him, pulling him deeper, milking every last drop of pleasure from his powerful strokes. A guttural moan ripped from her throat as she climaxed again, a more profound, more shattering orgasm than the first, her body convulsing wildly, her internal systems screaming with a joy she had never thought possible. Gintsu cried out her name, his own release following swiftly, his body tensing, shuddering as he flooded her with his hot essence.

They collapsed together, bodies slick with sweat and other fluids, breathing heavily, their hearts pounding in unison. He rolled onto his side, pulling her against him, her back pressed flush against his chest, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist. His hand drifted down, finding her wet *pussy*, still sensitive and swollen from their coupling, and he stroked it gently, tenderly. The sensation was still potent, a delicious aftershock that rippled through her.

“There’s something else, 2B,” Gintsu murmured against her ear, his breath warm. “Something… even more intimate.” He shifted, gently turning her onto her stomach, supporting her hips. A new flush spread through her frame as she understood. He had mentioned this before, in hushed tones, describing a different kind of pleasure, a more profound penetration. She had always dismissed it as an irrelevant data point, but now, after the mind-shattering experience in her *pussy*, she was open to anything.

He moved between her legs again, his fingers gently parting her firm buttocks. He kissed the small of her back, a tender, encouraging gesture. “Relax, my blade,” he whispered, his voice soothing. “Just feel me.” His fingers, slick with her own wetness, began to tease her *anal* opening, circling the sensitive ring of muscle. A hesitant curiosity mingled with a thrilling apprehension within her. Her systems registered the new pressure, the gentle stretch.

He took his time, patiently working, easing her, preparing her. 2B focused on her breathing, on the sensations, allowing her android body to adapt, to open. When his finger finally slipped inside, she gasped, a sharp intake of breath. It was tight, incredibly so, but not painful, just an intense pressure, a feeling of utter fullness. He slowly introduced another finger, then a third, stretching her gently, preparing her for his fuller invasion.

“You’re so tight, love,” he groaned, his voice thick with desire. He withdrew his fingers, replacing them with the head of his powerful erection, pressing gently against her *anal* entrance. The sheer size of him, combined with the unyielding tightness of her, sent a shiver of intense anticipation through her. She felt her muscles clench instinctively, but Gintsu was patient, pressing, waiting for her to relax. She pushed back, arching her hips, an unconscious invitation for him to claim her in this new, exhilarating way.

With a slow, deliberate push, he began to enter her *anal* opening. 2B cried out, a sound that was half pain, half pure ecstasy as he slowly, agonizingly, began to breach her. The stretch was immense, but as he pushed deeper, she felt a different kind of pleasure bloom within her, a profound invasion that resonated deep in her core. Inch by agonizing inch, he pushed, until the full length of his hard shaft was buried deep within her *anal* canal, filling her completely, stretching her to her absolute limit.

He paused, letting her adjust, letting her body acclimate to the incredible fullness. Her internal systems registered the unprecedented pressure, the unique, raw sensation of her *anal* muscles clenching around him. It was a forbidden pleasure, an ultimate surrender, and she found herself craving it with a desperate intensity. “Move, Gintsu,” she pleaded, her voice hoarse, her hips instinctively pushing back against him, urging him to begin.

He began to thrust, slow and deep at first, pulling out almost entirely before plunging back in, driving into her *anal* depths with a powerful, rhythmic motion. Each thrust was an explosion of sensation, rocking her entire frame, sending waves of pleasure radiating through her. She clutched the blanket beneath her, her knuckles white, her body arching and bucking with every powerful stroke. The friction, the depth, the sheer intensity of the *anal* penetration was overwhelming, yet utterly captivating.

“Oh, Gintsu… yes… harder,” she gasped, her voice raw with unbridled passion. He responded to her pleas, his thrusts becoming faster, more aggressive, pounding into her *anal* cavity with a primal force. She felt herself nearing another climax, her entire body trembling, her systems on the verge of overload. The unique pleasure of being taken *anal*ly, so deeply and completely, was a revelation, a new frontier of sensation she never knew her android body could experience.

He pulled her closer, his hips grinding against her buttocks, his hands gripping her waist, lifting her slightly to better angle his thrusts. “You’re so good, 2B,” he whispered, his voice thick with lust, his own climax rapidly approaching. “My beautiful blade… taking it all.” Her body tensed, her *anal* muscles clenching down on him with a vice-like grip as a series of powerful, shattering spasms wracked her frame. Her head fell back, her optical sensors rolling up as another earth-shattering orgasm tore through her, more intense, more profound than anything she had ever felt before. She screamed his name, a raw, primal sound of pure, unadulterated pleasure. Moments later, Gintsu cried out her name, his body convulsing as he emptied himself deep within her *anal* cavity, his warm seed a final, intimate invasion.

They lay there for a long time, entangled, breathless, the silence of the desert night now profoundly comforting. The air cooled, and Gintsu pulled the blanket higher, covering their spent bodies. He held her close, stroking her hair, pressing soft kisses to her neck and shoulders. 2B, the combat android, the Yorha unit, felt utterly at peace, a feeling more profound and satisfying than any mission accomplished. Her systems, though still registering the aftershocks of their intense encounter, were now settling into a state of profound contentment. The rigid boundaries of her programming had blurred, replaced by the warm, fuzzy data of human connection, of shared intimacy.

“Gintsu,” she whispered, turning in his arms, her eyes meeting his in the dim moonlight. His face was etched with exhaustion, but also with a tenderness that made her core ache in a new, sweet way. “I… I did not know I was capable of such… feelings.” Her voice was still a little hoarse, raw with the remnants of her cries of pleasure.

He smiled, a gentle, knowing smile. “You’re more than just combat data, 2B. You’re more than just a Yorha model. You’re… alive. And being alive means feeling everything. The good, the bad, and especially… this.” He kissed her forehead, then her lips, a soft, lingering kiss that promised more than just physical pleasure, but a future built on shared moments, on understanding, on profound love.

As the first hints of dawn painted the horizon in soft hues of rose and gold, 2B closed her eyes, nestled against Gintsu’s warmth. She thought of the *video* *animation* he had shown her, the ballet of intertwined figures. In his arms, after their shared dance of passion, she finally understood its true meaning. Her existence, once a cycle of endless battle in the world of *Nier Automata*, had found a new purpose, a new dimension. With Gintsu, she was not just a blade. She was a woman, capable of profound love, shattering pleasure, and an intimacy that transcended her programming. And in that moment, under the vast, ancient sky, she knew she would protect this new, fragile, beautiful feeling with every fiber of her being.