#electronic door lock system

[techcomengineering]

(via How Digital Door Access Systems Can Improve Workplace Safety?)

[smartsafetyindia]

Best Biometric Attendance with Door Access lock

[prettyobsessed]

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ 🪐༘Temptation Whispers Home 🍵‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

⁺₊ / pairings: Xavier / fem!reader ✩ / genre: smut [nsfw 18+, mdni] ₊˚ / tags: nsfw, smut with plot, story plot smut, masturbation, mutual attraction, grinding, soft sex, slighty rough sex, cowgirl position, lots of teasing, fingering, lots of kisses, unprotected sex, mouth job, hand job, kissing, nipple stimulation, clit stimulation, neck kink, nipple kink smut, spanking, facial cumshot, mature sexual content ☾ / word count: 6.6k

✧summary✧ *ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐༘⋆ Amidst the allure of Xavier's presence and the intoxicating atmosphere, the narrator grapples with their desire for intimacy and the uncertainty that shrouds their relationship. The scene pulses with tension and longing as they navigate the complexities of unspoken desires and emotional boundaries, hinting at a deeper connection waiting to be explored. ﹌﹌﹌

“I couldn’t control myself, and resisting you any longer has become increasingly difficult. It's as if you've cast a spell over me. It feels almost criminal—the effect you have on me."

☄. *. ⋆ Standing before my wardrobe, indecision settled upon my shoulders like an unwelcome guest. Meeting Tara, my best friend, shouldn't have been so complicated, yet there I was, deliberating over my outfit for nearly half an hour.

The events of last Saturday lingered in my thoughts, seemingly crept up on me—the night Xavier and I went to the club and things got… dangerously flirty.

Facing the mirror, I examined myself wearing my pastel blue thong, a reminder of Xavier lingering in my mind. "Am I wearing this intentionally with him in mind?" I paused, questioning my motives. "Stop. I’m not even meeting him today. Why bother?" I murmured to myself, shaking off the distraction, but not wanting to change out of the thong.

I was jolted back to reality when my phone notification bell rang. Glancing up at the screen, I noticed today’s date: Monday, 5th February. 2:28pm. With a resigned sigh, I selected a grey mini skirt paired with a white off-shoulder top, its thin fabric ideal for the anticipated hot day. Gathering my hair into a bun, I applied a spritz of Bare Vanilla to my neck and wrists, relishing in the comforting scent of my current favourite fragrance. Slipping into my trusty black boots and grabbing my bag, I hurried out the door, ensuring I hadn’t left anything behind and securing the automated lock. Venturing further from my apartment, a nagging thought crept into my mind. "Did I forget something?" But with Tara waiting, I pushed the thought aside and continued on my way.

"Today was a blast! Thanks for showing me around,” Tara exclaimed with enthusiasm. “Let’s go out again next week! See ya!” she chirped, waving energetically as she walked away. "Bye, Tara!” I called out with a playful pout. After bidding her farewell, I set off on my journey home, only to be caught off guard by an unexpected downpour. In an instant, I was soaked through from head to toe.

Frantically rummaging through my bag, I realised my oversight. "Damn it, I forgot my umbrella," I muttered, feeling water seep into every crevice. Drenched from head to toe, I cursed my forgetfulness as the heavy rain continued to pour down. I sprinted towards my apartment, each step weighed down by the rain-soaked clothes clinging from my hair to my body. Finally reaching my doorstep, I encountered another setback. Attempting to use my keycard, the electronic lock flashed an ominous "System error. System error." 

Recalling the maintenance warning, I hadn't anticipated it causing such immediate inconvenience. Frustration bubbled up within me as I futilely tried my security passcode, only to be met with the same error message. Feeling the urgency, I contacted the security of the building regarding the issue. They reassured that the issue would be resolved with a reboot in approximately 2 hours. 

Two hours. What am I going to do? I can't even go anywhere in this heavy downpour.

Just as despair threatened to overwhelm me, I heard the click of a door unlocking behind me. Turning, I saw Xavier, my neighbor and hunting partner, emerging from his apartment. He was clad in a cozy knit sweater, exuding warmth and an irresistible charm. "Ehem. Oh hi, Xavier," I greeted him, attempting to conceal my discomfort, yet pleasantly surprised and blushing at his appearance.

Xavier's expression shifted from surprise to concern as he observed my sodden appearance. Attempting to discreetly cover myself, the sheer fabric of my wet clothes left little to the imagination. "What happened? Are you okay?" he asked, moving closer and sensing my distress. With a sheepish smile, I explained the situation, gesturing helplessly at the malfunctioning lock and the relentless rain outside. Xavier's tense expression softened, replaced by empathy. "Ohh… hmm, would you like to come inside first?," Xavier offered, his voice warm with concern. "You need to dry off and warm up. I'll make us some tea."

Gratefully accepting his offer, I stepped into his cozy apartment with a mixture of relief and embarrassment. 

The warmth of the place enveloped me, dispelling the coldness of the rain-soaked evening. Xavier's gaze lingered on me, a mixture of concern and something more primal flickering in his eyes as he took in my drenched attire. His breath deepened, and he swallowed nervously. Quickly averting his eyes, his cheeks flushed slightly. I couldn't help but notice his expression. Was it because of that night? The memory of our encounter hung between us, adding an awkward tension to the air.

Sorry about the inconvenience," I mumbled, attempting to hide my soaked top with my hands, growing increasingly self-conscious. Xavier shook his head, offering a reassuring smile while guiding me further inside. "No need to apologise. I wouldn't want you catching a cold. Let me grab you a towel and some dry clothes," he said as his hand brushed mine for a split second before disappearing into another room.

His touch, feather-light against mine, sent a sudden chill coursing through me in response to this familiar connection. As I waited, I couldn't help but replay the memory of my (not so) drunken encounter with Xavier that night. The thought sent a shiver racing down my spine, kindling a slow, simmering heat within. When Xavier returned with a towel and a set of dry clothes, I accepted them gratefully, retreating to the bathroom to change. As I entered, I carefully place the dry clothes on the countertop.

Glancing into the mirror, I was startled to find myself drenched by the rain, the droplets clinging to my skin like shimmering diamonds. As I reached up to adjust my hair, I noticed the transparency of my top, revealing more than I intended. My heart raced as I realised the shape of my breasts was clearly outlined, a blush creeping up my cheeks at the thought that Xavier might have noticed it. A rush of embarrassment and arousal collided within me. Unable to resist the pull of memory, I tentatively traced the curve of my lips to my body, the touch reminiscent of Xavier's from that unforgettable night. His hands had possessed a magnetic power, leaving an indelible mark on my senses. ☄. *. ⋆ ﹌﹌﹌ Flashback

It was 1 am, and Xavier and I were still in the club. I remember vividly slow dancing to "Alone With You" by Alina Baraz. Xavier stood protectively in front of me, alert to any wandering eyes. "Something 'bout the look on your face, as you feelin’ a way, baby, I feel it too," I mouthed the lyrics to Xavier, my hands roaming over him, on his chest, on his neck—lost in the moment, and I noticed Xavier was smirking, looking at me, seeming to enjoy it. After spending countless hours partnering with Xavier in battle against the Wanderers, it became inevitable that I would begin to harbour feelings for him—admiring his sweetness, his mannerisms, his unwavering protectiveness, and God, that voice of his.

For months, I had been secretly listening to his voice notes, touching myself, feeling aroused by the softness of his tone. It's almost as if I am protected and safe just by listening to him.

I'm convinced that Xavier feels the same way because of all the signals he's been giving me, indicating his affection. However, despite this certainty, a hint of doubt lingers. It felt as if there was an undeniable distance—a boundary he was setting between us.

That night in the club, emboldened by alcohol’s courage, I found myself drawn closer to Xavier, scrutinising his features under the dim lights. His eyes gleamed like distant stars, captivating me with their allure. He was undeniably beautiful. As our gazes met, a mixture of confusion and intrigue danced in his eyes, shrouding him in an enigmatic aura I couldn't quite unravel.

I just want to kiss him so badly. Drawing tantalisingly close, I draped my arm over Xavier's neck as we swayed to the music, our bodies magnetically drawn together. His scent was nearly angelic, with perfume notes reminiscent of grapefruit and bergamot, further adding to his allure. Xavier's gaze lingered on me, intense and wanting, yet unable to voice his desires. Playfully, I nibbled on my lip, feeling the electric tension between us, sensing his arousal. Slyly, I guided his hands to my waist, silently granting permission as we moved to the slow rhythm.

Locked in a flirtatious exchange, I met his gaze, a silent invitation passing between us. Body to body, eye to eye, the tension was palpable. Positioning myself on my back, I purposefully initiated a sensual grind against him, daringly pushing the boundaries of the game. My fingers lingered close to his neck, and there, he reciprocated. Xavier was feeling me—his hands on my body as my hips ground against his clothed erection, causing it to grow harder.

The pulse of his arousal reverberated through me, igniting a fervent craving deep within my core. Both of us were lost in the moment, slowly moving to the rhythm of the music.

Turning my body back to him, I absorbed the expression etched on Xavier’s face. It was one I wished I could freeze forever. His endearing innocence, accentuated by a rosy blush, amplified the allure that made resisting him a futile endeavour. He exuded a captivating blend of bliss and longing, as if silently begging for more. Yet, despite his evident desire, Xavier exercised restraint. "Y/N, please," he implored softly. "You're drunk.”

With an insatiable longing, I took in every detail of his eyes, tracing the soft contours of his lips before locking eyes with him once more. "I'm not drunk...yet," I murmured softly, a breathless neediness creeping into my voice, as if daring him to push the boundaries further.

Should I take the leap and make the first move? Lost in the moment, I couldn't resist the pull any longer. Just as I was about to lean in closer to him, he beat me to it. “Then, can I kiss you...? You look so pretty, I can't resist anymore,” he asked, his tone filled with neediness and helplessness. I knew it. I knew Xavier was into me, but hearing his verbal confession still caught me off guard, filling me with a heady mix of anticipation and delight. With a seductive curl of my lips into a grin, I wordlessly granted him my consent, sealing our mutual desire with a brief but intense kiss upon his lips. The giddy sensation from the kiss lingered, but Xavier's insistence on escorting me home carried a tender urgency, his need to ensure my safety blending seamlessly with the unspoken longing that hung between us.

Did Xavier really think I was that drunk? That I was unaware of my own actions? My heart pounded with a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty as I unlocked the door with my keycard and gently laid myself down on my bed. Xavier's presence beckoned irresistibly, and I couldn't help but notice the way his eyes flickered with a mixture of desire and restraint, mirroring my own conflicting emotions. Craving his touch, I reached for his hand and pulled him down beside me, my fingers trembling with anticipation. We kissed again, our bodies gravitating closer, and his touch on my chin sent a rush of warmth coursing through me, banishing any doubts or hesitations I may have had.

"You have such soft skin," Xavier murmured, his fingers outlining my shoulders to my body. His words ignited a delicious tingle throughout me as we continued to share kisses. Feeling a surge of desire, I decided to intensify the intimacy. With a bold move, I rose from my seated position and straddled him, feeling the heat of his arousal pressing against me. As our bodies aligned, I began to move with a slow, tantalising rhythm, grinding against his clothed erection with increasing fervour. Each motion sent waves of pleasure coursing through us both, heightening the intensity of our connection. Xavier's hands explored every curve of my body, his touch adding fuel to the fire.

Yet, amidst the intoxicating haze of lust, a lingering question nagged at my mind: What was holding him back? Was it fear, responsibility, or perhaps something else entirely? "You make me feel so safe," I whispered into his ear, my hands roaming over his body, eliciting soft whimpers of pleasure with both our clothes still intact.

But just as the intensity peaked, Xavier abruptly halted our exchange, reminding me of the blurred lines in our current situation. He gently grasped both of my wrists, then cupped my cheek in a tender gesture. “Stop,” he whispered, his voice laced with regret. “We can't do this. You're drunk, Y/N.” His words were both a plea and an apology, his gaze filled with admiration yet tinged with sorrow. “My god, look at you,” he continued, his tone filled with longing. “So... so pretty like this. But no, I can't... we can't—not like this. I'm sorry.”

As Xavier's lips brushed against my forehead, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions surged through me, mingling with the warmth of his affectionate gesture. I felt the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air, the lingering echo of our shared desire, and the ache of unfulfilled longing. With each heartbeat, I struggled to reconcile the tenderness of his kiss with the sudden emptiness left in his wake as he quietly slipped out the door, leaving me to grapple with the unresolved tension between us.

The morning sunlight filtered gently through the sheer curtains, casting a warm glow across the room as I found myself lost in a whirlwind of memories from the previous night. Each moment replayed in my mind with vivid clarity, revealing truths I hadn't fully grasped in the haze of last night. Amidst the tumult of my thoughts, a simple text message interrupted my reverie, stirring a mix of relief and anticipation within me. 'Hey, U up? how r u feeling?’ The words, though brief, carried a weight of concern and care that warmed my heart. However, amidst the exhaustion and emotional whirlwind of the night before, I succumbed to sleep before replying to Xavier. Flashback ends

﹌﹌﹌ ♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

With a shaky exhale, I snapped back to reality and shifted my focus away from the mirror. Peeling off my damp clothes, I slipped into the garments Xavier had passed to me earlier—a cozy grey jumper, white sweatpants and a pair of fuzzy socks. They carried the fresh scent of recently laundered fabric, infused with the comforting aroma of rosy detergent.

Carefully, I hung my wet clothes on an empty rack and used the towel to pat my hair dry. Exiting the bathroom, I spotted Xavier seated on the couch, his eyes heavy with drowsiness. The sound of the bathroom door closing startled him, jolting him awake from the brink of sleep. Squinting against the room light, he offered a warm smile as I approached. "Hey, you're back," he greeted, stretching his arms out in a lazy stretch. I thanked Xavier for the clothes and socks, feeling a rush of gratitude for his thoughtfulness. In response, he gestured towards a steaming cup of honey milk tea he had prepared, knowing it was my favourite. Next to it were a variety of cupcakes from the bakery shop he had visited earlier. I smiled, touched by his effort to please my palate. 

Sitting beside him on the couch, the television hummed softly in the background — casting a soothing ambiance over the room. However, the silence between us grew palpable, prompting me to break the ice. Despite the flickering images on the television screen, neither of us spoke, lost in our own thoughts. "So, any good shows on TV lately?" I ventured, trying to ease the tension with a casual conversation.

Xavier shook his head, his gaze distant as he stared at the screen. Sensing his unease, I shifted closer, determined to bridge the gap between us. "Did you went out today?" I asked gently, hoping to draw him out of his reverie. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah… I went for a run, just trying to clear my head," he admitted, his voice tinged with exhaustion. Concerned, I reached out to him, offering my support. "Do you need any help? I'm here for you," I reassured him, squeezing his hand comfortingly, at the same time taking a sip of the tea. As I reached out to comfort him, I couldn’t help but notice the subtle change in Xavier’s demeanour. Before I could dwell on the intensity of the moment, Xavier broached a topic that caught me off guard.

"Do you remember anything from last Saturday?" he asked suddenly, his tone hesitant.

Startled, I choked on my tea, the liquid spilling onto my shirt in an embarrassing display of clumsiness. "Shit. Umm. I-I don't remember... anything. At all. Um, what happened?" I stammered, my attempt to hide my discomfort only adding to the awkwardness of the moment.  As I fumbled to clean up the mess, a flurry of apologies spilled from my lips, each one a feeble attempt to distract from the truth lingering beneath the surface. In reality, I remembered everything from that night, every touch and detail etched into my memory with perfect clarity. Yet, despite this knowledge, I found myself unable to speak the truth, to acknowledge the undeniable connection that had formed between us. 

Was I denying my own feelings too, or simply afraid to confront them?

Xavier’s observation of my discomfort only added to my embarrassment, leaving me at a loss for words. 

"Sounds like a lie," he teased, a mischievous grin playing on his lips as his eyes twinkled with amusement. I headed to the kitchen to fetch more napkins. Sensing my unease, he too reached to grab for more and gently dabbed at the spilled tea on my shirt. I felt a sudden chill spread through my body, causing both my nipples to harden in response. A faint blush crept onto my cheeks as Xavier's gaze lingered on my reaction. Despite my attempts to conceal my arousal, the unspoken tension between us hung palpably in the air, underscored by the knowing smile tugged at the corners of Xavier’s lips.

Embarrassed, I deflected his words once more, particularly after he had already noticed my body's response to his touch. I turned back to check for any more spills on the couch, but I was stopped when Xavier enveloped me in a comforting hug from behind. I melted into his embrace, his warmth intoxicating as it seeped into mine. "I can't stop thinking about you ever since that night," Xavier confessed softly, his lips brushing against my ear. My heart raced at his words, a dangerous sweetness enveloping me in his proximity—a rush of desire mingled with uncertainty.

As Xavier opened up further, his words poured out in a rush of honesty. He confessed that he had been unable to sleep after sending me home that night, his thoughts consumed by visions of me. He admitted to finding solace only in fantasies of me, even resorting to pleasuring himself while imagining me in his arms. His confession sent a thrill through me, leaving me flushed and craving his touch even more.

"Every time I'm with you, it's like my heart skips a beat," he confessed, his voice heavy with desire and neediness. "I've wanted nothing more than to protect you, keep you safe, be by your side, and to make you happy. So I buried those feelings deep down because I wasn't sure if you felt the same way. But that night, I couldn't fight it anymore. You were so… irresistible. You’re like an addiction I can't shake off, and I don't want to. You drive me crazy in the best way possible, and I can't get enough of you."

As his embrace deepened, Xavier tenderly nuzzled his nose against my neck before trailing his lips to my collarbone.

“I couldn’t control myself, and resisting you any longer has become increasingly difficult. It's as if you've cast a spell over me. It feels almost criminal—the effect you have on me," he continued, a slight laugh in his voice, his arms wrapping tightly around my body as he whispered into my ear. “I find myself craving your presence, your touch, and those mesmerising eyes of yours... I just can’t get you off my mind. I just wanna know if you feel the same way too.”

Feeling unable to hold back any longer, I bare my feelings for him, summoning the courage to confess how I couldn’t resist touching myself to his voice notes every night. I found myself lost in their soothing cadence, a mixture of comfort and arousal intertwining in my mind. But it's not just his voice that ensnares me; it's the tenderness and kindness he exudes, weaving a tapestry of longing and connection that I find impossible to evade.

I felt the atmosphere shift, the tension palpable between us.

Xavier’s voice caught, his tone laced with surprise. “Every night? Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I could have offered more than just… voice notes,” he said. His smile turned playful, revealing a side of him I hadn’t seen before. I playfully nudged his arm, attempting to escape his embrace, but he only tightened his hold, and I could feel his erection growing bigger.

His refusal to release his embrace made my body quiver in anticipation. His hands explored my curves, silently pleading for more as I pressed closer against him. Pausing before speaking again, he exhaled with longing. “Do you want me to continue? Please, please say yes,' he pleaded, his lips grazing my neck before tenderly moving to my cheeks.

Yes. A million times yes. I’ve been waiting for this moment. Are you kidding me?

With a nod of approval and verbally expressing my consent, I closed my eyes, surrendering to his touch. His hands cupped my breasts, easing away the tension with each caress. I savoured his scent mingling with mine as he moaned softly, his fingers finding their way to tease and tantalise my nipples through the fabric of my shirt. Gradually, his hands ventured beneath my shirt, firmly squeezing and grabbing my bare breasts and skin, eliciting an ecstatic moan from me in response. Moved by the urge to reciprocate and heighten Xavier’s pleasure, my hands reached toward his arousal, gently palming his hardness through the fabric of his pants. I slowly ground my ass against his firm erection, deliberately driving him wild. With slow, deliberate movements, I began to rub and stroke him, intent on bringing him the same pleasure he was offering me. As I explored his size, he felt long and slender beneath my touch—leaving my core suddenly feeling empty and wet.

As Xavier's lips pressed tender kisses onto my shoulder, a gentle sigh escaped my lips as he brushed against the subtle fragrance of my Bare Vanilla perfume, very faint, nestled just below my ear. He paused, inhaling deeply, his expression transforming into one of unmistakable pleasure. "I love this scent on you," he whispered, his voice saturated with desire.

“Can't wait to taste you,” he continued, his tone low and dark, brimming with longing and need. Xavier’s movements became more fervent, accompanied by soft moans escaping his lips. In response, his hands found their way to slip into my pants and gently circle my clothed clit with his thumb, applying just the right amount of pressure to send waves of pleasure coursing through my body. With his other arm, he pulled me closer to him, our bodies pressed tightly together. I melted into his touch, arching my back and resting my head on his shoulder, silently conveying my pleasure. His lips continued their exploration, trailing kisses along my neck and intensifying their attention on my shoulders. With a gentle yet decisive movement, Xavier turned me by my waist, now facing him. Our bodies were so close that I could feel his erection pressing against my stomach.

He then showered my neck with more kisses, his hands finding their way to grip my ass and lightly tap it. In response, I teasingly traced my fingers under his shirt, returning his kisses with passion. I love the way Xavier is making me feel. Unable to resist any longer, I halted our playfulness and took his hand, leading him to the living room where we settled onto the couch. With tender care, I nestled onto his lap, sinking into the plush cushions as we enveloped each other in a warm embrace.

As our kisses deepened, Xavier's touch grew insatiable, his fingers eagerly exploring every curve of my body as I straddled him. Each caress heightened my awareness of his growing arousal, fuelling my desire for him to be even more aroused. Yielding to my playful instincts, I decided to tease him further by rising from his lap and treating him to a seductive strip tease. With deliberate grace, I peeled away my shirt and pants, revealing myself in nothing but socks and a pastel blue lace thong, the anticipation hanging thick in the air between us.

"My favourite panties. Mmm," he murmured, his breath deepening as he swallowed, his fingers grazing the thin fabric of the thong, causing the elastic band to snap against my skin. Recollections of our initial meetings flooded my mind, vividly reminding me of the moments when his gaze lingered upon me, captivated by the sight of those particular panties. It was during one such encounter, as I leaned down to retrieve a plushie that had slipped from my grasp, that his eyes seemed unable to stray from the enticing sight. "Thank the lucky stars I have a sixth sense," I replied with a playful twinkle in my eye, savouring the anticipation building between us. He persisted in teasing and pleasuring me, eliciting gasps of desire from my lips as I yearned for more. 

I caught Xavier’s lips curling slightly at my words, a sight that filled with delight at his unbridled desire. The way he looked at me, all heated and giddy, added fuel to the fire of my own arousal. As I stood there, basking in his gaze, I couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement coursing through me, heightened by the contrast of the cool air against my exposed skin, mingling with the warmth radiating from our entwined bodies.

Xavier pulled me back onto his lap, his hands enveloping mine as he peppered soft kisses upon my palm. Moving with a tender yet urgent desire, his lips trailed from my hand to my nipples, where he sucked gently. Meanwhile, his hands eagerly gripped my ass, pulling me closer to him, eliciting a soft moan from me as I watched his lewd act unfold before me. He gasped for air after his arousing exploration of my nipples, feeling his breath hot against my skin. Cupping his face in my hands, I showered him with soft, lingering kisses, starting from his rosy cheeks, then trailing a path to his inviting lips, his cute nose, and finally, his smooth forehead. In response, he reciprocated within seconds, returning my kisses with equal passion which made me giggle due to the ticklish sensation.

My fingers then glide through his beautiful hair, allowing myself to revel in the moment. The warmth of Xavier's embrace enveloping me in a sense of security and passion. As my hands trailed down to his chest, I felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my touch. With a playful glint in my eyes, I deliberately circled my hips, relishing in the pleasure as I teased his arousal through the fabric of his pants with each subtle movement.

Xavier’s hungry eyes devoured my naked body, each glance feeling like a caress. Suddenly, his hand came down on my ass with a sharp spank, a playful punishment for my naughtiness. I gasped in surprise, but the thrill of his touch only made my core throb with anticipation.

There’s something so sexy in being the one who’s stripped down to just panties and socks, while being locked in a heated embrace with a fully clothed man.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do this,” he moaned, his eyes growing darker, indicating his eagerness to do more than just kiss and spank me tonight. “You don’t have to listen to my voice notes anymore,” he continued, murmuring huskily with his hands gripping my ass as he held me close. “I can talk you through it anytime you want…from now onwards, every night.” Xavier’s gaze locked with mine.

His words made me blush even more, the heat rising in my cheeks, intensifying my need for him. Xavier offering to talk me through my orgasms? Like? Holy fuck. The mere thought made my mind dance with tantalizing fantasies and wander to all sorts of delicious scenarios, stirring a wild craving that pulsed through every inch of my being, leaving me squirming with anticipation.

“Oh really? You sure you won’t be tired?” I teased, leaning in closer and playfully biting his lower lip, a flirty glint in my eyes as I recalled his tendency to doze off during the day. “For you, I’ll stay awake all night,” he replied, his tone brimming with determination and desire. His hands reached for mine, kissing it tenderly, his expression filled with an ardent longing. I never imagined Xavier could be so utterly infatuated with me. His shy demeanour was nowhere to be found. It's surprising how unabashedly sexy he sounds. Yearning to taste him, my heart raced with anticipation as I gracefully rose from his lap, positioning myself on the ground before him —in a low kneel position. 

Looking into Xavier’s eyes, I began to explore his thighs, running my hands over the fabric of his pants until I reached his undeniable arousal. Slowly, I pulled down his pants slightly, revealing his full glory beneath. His erection stood proudly, a glistening bead of precum at its tip. 

I moaned at the sight of his long and slender erection in my hands, wondering if I could take it all inside me.

As I leaned in closer, I moistened my lips, preparing to take him into my mouth. With a gentle touch, I traced circles along his shaft, feeling him twitch beneath my touch. A low groan escaped his lips, spurring me on. With a deliberate motion, I applied a slick of saliva, ensuring smooth entry as I enveloped Xavier in warmth. Our eyes locked onto each other, maintaining unbroken contact, heightening the intensity between us.

He reached out, his fingers tangling in my hair, holding it in place to make it easier for me to pleasure him with my tongue.

The taste of him was intoxicating, his musky scent filling my senses as I savoured each lick and tease. Despite the difficulty of accommodating his sizeable erection in my mouth because of its length, I persisted. With every moan that escaped his lips, I felt a surge of satisfaction, knowing that my efforts were driving him wild. The sound of my gagging only added to the intensity of the moment, sending vibrations of pleasure humming through my throat.

“Yes…just like that. You’re doing so good” Xavier cooed, his moans like music to my ears. He lets me have my way with him, without any resistance or coercion, which only fuels my desire to engage in even more naughty, sinful acts with him.

Deciding to delay climaxing for the moment, Xavier withdraws his erection from my mouth and gently lifts me from my position. With care, he settles me back onto the couch, lying me down on it with tenderness. He shifts my leg, positioning it between his body and mine. As my legs find their place between us, he pauses to admire my beauty, playfully pinching my nipples and tracing kisses along my skin. My body shudders in response to his touch, aching for more with each caress. Xavier then firmly grasps my thighs and gently pushes them down, exposing me completely to his gaze. With my legs draped over my stomach, he continues to explore my body with his hands, his fingers eventually finding their way to my clit, concealed just enough beneath my pastel blue thong.

His voice carries a smooth sweetness, almost velvety—wrapping around me with a seductive undertone as he posed his question. “How long have you been fantasising about me?” his words hung between us, punctuated by soft kisses planted on my thighs before he continued. His relentless teasing drove me to the brink of madness. My throbbing clit yearned for the exquisite touch of his tongue, yet he tantalisingly denied me, his lips lingering maddeningly close but only grazing my trembling thighs, making my clit throb more.

"Ever since I first saw you!" I exclaimed, my voice tinged with a hint of moan. Xavier's grin widened, his pride evident as he heard my response. "That night in the club, you were teasing me so hard and grinding on me," he continued, his tone playful yet curious. "Were you intentionally trying to arouse me, or was it simply the influence of alcohol?" Xavier asked again, his gaze searching for the truth as he peppered kisses near my core, teasingly close, tempting me with his seductive proximity.

"I only had two shots of tequila. I just couldn’t resist teasing you," I confessed, a playful smirk tugging at my lips. "You looked so good in that lighting, and I couldn’t help it. I got so horny just thinking about how it would feel to have that dick inside me," I added, feeling a rush of excitement at his attention, my tone teasing and flirtatious.

Xavier moaned in response to my confession, visibly pleased, his hand stroking his erection as he became aroused. He gave a sudden, firm lick against the fabric of my thong, where my clit was hidden, drawing a whimper from me in anticipation. In one swift motion, he grabs the waistband of my panties and pulls them away from me, leaving me exposed to his eager gaze. With unwavering focus, he directed all of his attention to my clit, eliciting moans of pleasure from me. He lavished it with his tongue as though it were his favourite dessert. The sensation was unlike anything I'd ever felt before, far more intense than anything I could achieve alone, and I couldn't help but moan with pleasure at every lick. 

His hands gripped firmly on both my thighs, pushing them down to spread my folds even more, exposing my bare clit to his eager mouth. Xavier's expert attention had me writhing with desire, every touch sending waves of pleasure through me. I was soaked to the core, and Xavier showed no signs of stopping. His tongue danced over my folds at a rapid pace, driving me wild with each flick. The sensation was so intense that my hands instinctively ran through his hair.

When he fucked my clit repeatedly with his tongue, it sent me over the edge, and I couldn’t help but cum hard, my body shaking with pleasure as my pussy clenched in response. As I trembled from the intense climax, Xavier lifted his head, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. "I wanna feel you," he whispered, his voice dripping with lust, each word sending a jolt of excitement through me.

Xavier's demeanour caught me off guard. Despite his angelic appearance, it was clear that he possessed a dark side, prompting me to reassess just how innocent he really was. While I adored both aspects of him, his freaky side held a particularly irresistible allure that turned me on. I push Xavier's face away from my clit, commanding him to get back to his seated position on the couch. The act of asserting control over him seems to intensify his arousal.

With an intense hunger in my core reserved solely for his manhood, I rise to straddle him once more—my favourite position. Perched on his lap, I ensure his throbbing erection aligns perfectly with my clit. With a teasing bounce, I let my breasts jiggle, tempting him further. "Your wish is my command, sir," I whisper, biting my lip, relishing the anticipation of being in control. I coat his shaft with my saliva several times, ensuring it's slick and ready for our pleasure. Each application of saliva is deliberate, my movements slow and teasing as I take my time to ensure he's adequately lubricated for what I have planned next.

His hands and fingers delicately traced the bottom of my feet, moving up to my legs, ensuring I felt stabilised and secure. His protective touch made my head swim with giddiness and my body ache with desire once again.

Deliberately, I glide Xavier's erection against my clit, relishing the pleasure that courses through both of us, evident in his uncontrollable moans. "You feel so good, yeah just like that… don't stop," Xavier gasped, his voice strained with pleasure. It was as if every nerve in his body had been set alight, flooding him with an intense wave of pleasure that left him breathless. The lewdness of my actions only serves to heighten my arousal, matching his fervour. As if guiding him into my pussy, I instead tease his erection with just the outer folds of my clit, luxuriating in the sensation. Xavier responds with lust-filled moans, his hands exploring my body with eager anticipation.I particularly enjoy the sensation of his thumb and index finger pinching my nipples, and I can't resist sucking on his fingers for added pleasure.

Continuing to tease him, I grind on his erection until I'm dripping wet and unable to hold back any longer. The desperate need to feel him inside me consumes me. Finally, I coat my hands with saliva once more before slowly guiding his dick inside me. The initial stretch is overwhelming, his lengthy and slender shaft momentarily causing concern, but soon I find myself accommodating him comfortably. As he fills me, a moan of relief and pleasure escapes my lips, echoing Xavier's own moans of satisfaction.

He praises me for taking all of him, his words stirring a sense of pride and determination within me, fuelling my desire to please him even more. Starting with a slow grind, I gradually increase the pace, bouncing fervently on his cock. The sensation of him filling me up completely ignites a primal need within me, urging me to move faster. With each thrust, I clench my pussy around him, feeling it throb with anticipation, aching for more of him. Xavier takes notice of my escalating desire and grips my ass firmly, his touch sending shivers down my spine. The sharp spanks he delivers heighten my neediness, each one adding a delicious sting to the pleasure coursing through me.

Feeling my fatigue from the vigorous motion, Xavier takes initiative and shifts our rhythm, thrusting into me instead. Xavier's eyes burn with desire as he pins my arms behind my back, his strength and dominance amplifying the intensity of our encounter. With each forceful thrust, he plunges deep into my throbbing pussy, driving me relentlessly towards the brink of ecstasy.

As his pace quickens, tears of pleasure well up in my eyes. 'You're doing so good, taking it in like that." I wriggled free from his grasp and instead placed my hands on his chest, using them to stabilise myself as I adjusted my position. With a subtle shift, I angled myself better, allowing me to bounce on him even more. "I can't hold back anymore, I’m going to cum,' Xavier exclaims. Just before he reaches climax, I release myself from his grip, dropping to my knees, eager for him to cover my mouth and face with his release. He then releases onto my face and tongue, his cum pouring over me in abundance.

I let him cover my face and tongue until there's no more left. With a hint of lingering desire, I decide to prolong his orgasm, swallowing his cum while gently licking his tip. It seems Xavier is overwhelmed by the sensation, almost on the verge of passing out.

"Fuck," he moans explicitly. Despite his satisfaction, he expresses a hint of apology, explaining that he didn’t want to soil my face. I offer a reassuring smile, assuring him that it's alright and that I love it. His eyes soften with gratitude, and a warm sigh escapes him, relieved by my understanding. Gently, I savour some of his warmth from my skin, the sensation still intense and lingering. Rushing to fetch a towel, Xavier wipes my face clean, his touch tender and apologetic, yet filled with care and affection. He quickly moves to support me, wrapping his arms around my waist tenderly. Pressing gentle kisses to my shoulder, he murmurs soothing words of reassurance as he catches his breath. Laying me back onto the couch, he ensures that I’m comfortable and relaxed, his concern for my well-being evident in every gesture. I invite him to join me, and as he settles beside me, I gently stroke his hair and offer him a warm embrace.

Xavier momentarily detaches, his footsteps echoing lightly against the hardwood floor as he made his way to the kitchen, a subtle spring in his step betraying the renewed energy coursing through him. As he returned with a tray of refreshments, a playful glint danced in his eyes, his grin infectious.

"You seem like you've been fully recharged," I remarked, a teasing lilt to my voice as I admired his refreshed appearance. "Did I unknowingly stumble upon the secret to your energy?" Xavier chuckled, setting the tray down with a gentle clink of glasses. "Perhaps you have," he teased in return, his tone tinged with flirtatiousness. "Your place next?" The playful banter between us filled the room, infusing our embrace with an even deeper sense of closeness and intimacy as we basked in the afterglow of our shared passion. As we snuggle once again, this time much closer, Xavier reminds me of how cherished and loved I am, reaffirming our deep connection and the intimacy we share. Throughout the aftercare, his focus remains entirely on me, ensuring my well-being and emotional comfort are prioritised above all else.

—By prettyobsessed. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚🧸🐇୭🧷✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀🧷 P.S: It’s my very first time writing smut! What do you think? xx

⋆·˚ ༘ *🔭

—

this content is copyrighted by @prettyobsessed. all rights are reserved. it is prohibited to replicate, imitate, plagiarise, or repost my content on any other platform without authorisation. translations are also not permitted unless proper credit is given🌷

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Netflix wants to chop down your family tree

Netflix has unveiled the details of its new anti-password-sharing policy, detailing a suite of complex gymnastics that customers will be expected to undergo if their living arrangements trigger Netflix’s automated enforcement mechanisms:

https://thestreamable.com/news/confirmed-netflix-unveils-first-details-of-new-anti-password-sharing-measures

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/02/nonbinary-families/#red-envelopes

Netflix says that its new policy allows members of the same “household” to share an account. This policy comes with an assumption: that there is a commonly understood, universal meaning of “household,” and that software can determine who is and is not a member of your household.

This is a very old corporate delusion in the world of technology. In the early 2000s, I spent years trying to bring some balance to an effort at DVB, whose digital television standards are used in most of the world (but not the USA) when they rolled out CPCM, a DRM system that was supposed to limit video-sharing to a single household.

Their term of art for this was the “authorized domain”: a software-defined family unit whose borders were privately negotiated by corporate executives from media companies, broadcasters, tech and consumer electronics companies in closed-door sessions all around the world, with no public minutes or proceedings.

https://onezero.medium.com/the-internet-heist-part-iii-8561f6d5a4dc

These guys (they were nearly all guys) were proud of how much “flexibility” they’d built into their definition of “household.” For example, if you owned a houseboat, or a luxury car with seatback displays, or a summer villa in another country, the Authorized Domain would be able to figure out how to get the video onto all those screens.

But what about other kinds of families? I suggested that one of our test cases should be a family based in Manila: where the dad travels to remote provinces to do agricultural labor; the daughter is a nanny in California; and the son is doing construction work in the UAE. This suggestion was roundly rejected as an “edge case.”

Of course, this isn’t an edge case. There are orders of magnitude more people whose family looks like this than there are people whose family owns a villa in another country. Owning a houseboat or a luxury car makes you an outlier. Having an itinerant agricultural breadwinner in your family does not.

But everyone who is in the room when a cartel draws up a standard definition of what constitutes a household is almost certainly drawn from a pool that is more likely to have a summer villa than a child doing domestic work or construction labor half a world away. These weirdos, so dissimilar from the global majority, get to define the boxes that computers will shove the rest of the world into. If your family doesn’t look like their family, that’s tough: “Computer says no.”

One day at a CPCM meeting, we got to talking about the problem of “content laundering” and how the way to prevent it would be to put limits on how often someone could leave a household and join another one. No one, they argued, would ever have to change households every week.

I put my hand up and said, “What about a child whose divorced parents share custody of her? She’s absolutely going to change households every week.” They thought about it for a moment, then the rep from a giant IT company that had recently been convicted of criminal antitrust violations said, “Oh, we can solve that: we’ll give her a toll-free number to call when she gets locked out of her account.”

That was the solution they went with. If you are a child coping with the dissolution of your parents’ marriage, you will have the obligation to call up a media company every month — or more often — and explain that Mummy and Daddy don’t love each other any more, but can I please have my TV back?

I never forgot that day. I even wrote a science fiction story about it called (what else?) “Authorized Domain”:

https://craphound.com/news/2011/10/31/authorised-domain/

I think everyone understood that this was an absurd “solution,” but they had already decided that they were going to complete the seemingly straightforward business of defining a category like “household” using software, and once that train left the station, nothing was going to stop it.

This is a recurring form of techno-hubris: the idea that baseline concepts like “family” have crisp definitions and that any exceptions are outliers that would never swallow the rule. It’s such a common misstep that there’s a whole enre* called “Falsehoods Programmers Believe About ______”:

https://github.com/kdeldycke/awesome-falsehood

In that list: names, time, currency, birthdays, timezones, email addresses, national borders, nations, biometrics, gender, language, alphabets, phone numbers, addresses, systems of measurement, and, of course, families. These categories are touchstones in our everyday life, and we think we know what they mean — but then we try to define them, and the list of exceptions spirals out into a hairy, fractal infinity.

Historically, these fuzzy categorical edges didn’t matter so much, because they were usually interpreted by humans using common sense. My grandfather was born “Avrom Doctorovitch” (or at least, that’s one way to transliterate his name, which was spelled in a different alphabet, but which was also transliterating his first name from yet another alphabet). When he came to Canada as a refugee, his surname was anglicized to “Doctorow.” Other cousins are “Doctorov,” “Doctoroff,” and “Doktorovitch.”

Naturally, his first name could have been “Abraham” or “Abe,” but his first employer (a fellow Eastern European emigre) decided that was too ethnic and in sincere effort to help him fit in, he called my grandfather “Bill.” When my grandfather attained citizenship, his papers read “Abraham William Doctorow.” He went by “Abe,” “Billy,” “Bill,” “William,” “Abraham” and “Avrom.”

Practically, it didn’t matter that variations on all of these appeared on various forms of ID, contracts, and paperwork. His reparations check from the German government had a different variation from the name on the papers he used to open his bank account, but the bank still let him deposit it.

All of my relatives from his generation have more than one name. Another grandfather of mine was born “Aleksander,” and called “Sasha” by friends, but had his name changed to “Seymour” when he got to Canada. His ID was also a mismatched grab-bag of variations on that theme.

None of this mattered to him, either. Airlines would sell him tickets and border guards would stamp his passport and rental agencies would let him drive away in cars despite the minor variations on all his ID.

But after 9/11, all that changed, for everyone who had blithely trundled along with semi-matching names across their official papers and database entries. Suddenly, it was “computer says no” everywhere you turned, unless everything matched perfectly. There was a global rush for legal name-changes after 9/11 — not because people changed their names, but because people needed to perform the bureaucratic ritual necessary to have the name they’d used all along be recognized in these new, brittle, ambiguity-incinerating machines.

For important categories, ambiguity is a feature, not a bug. The fact that you can write anything on an envelope (including a direction to deliver the letter to the granny flat over the garage, not the front door) means that we don’t have to define “address” — we can leave it usefully hairy around the edges.

Once the database schema is formalized, then “address” gets defined too — the number of lines it can have, the number of characters each line can have, the kinds of characters and even words (woe betide anyone who lives in Scunthorpe).

If you have a “real” address, a “real” name, a “real” date of birth, all of this might seem distant to you. These “edge” cases — seasonal agricultural workers, refugees with randomly assigned “English” names — are very far from your experience.

That’s true — for now (but not forever). The “Shitty Technology Adoption Curve” describes the process by which abusive technologies work their way up the privilege gradient. Every bad technological idea is first rolled out on poor people, refugees, prisoners, kids, mental patients and other people who can’t push back.

Their bodies are used to sand the rough edges and sharp corners off the technology, to normalize it so that it can climb up through the social ranks, imposed on people with more and more power and influence. 20 years ago, if you ate your dinner under an always-on #CCTV, it was because you were in a supermax prison. Today, it’s because you bought a premium home surveillance system from Google, Amazon or Apple.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/07/29/impunity-corrodes/#arise-ye-prisoners

The Netflix anti-sharing tools are designed for rich people. If you travel for business and stay in the kind of hotel where the TV has its own Netflix client that you can plug your username and password into, Netflix will give you a seven-day temporary code to use.

But for the most hardcore road-warriors, Netflix has thin gruel. Unless you connect to your home wifi network every 31 days and stream a show, Netflix will lock out your devices. Once blocked, you have to “contact Netflix” (laughs in Big Tech customer service).

Why is Netflix putting the screws to its customers? It’s part of the enshittification cycle, where platform companies first allocate surpluses to their customers, luring them in and using them as bait for business customers. Once they turn up, the companies reallocate surpluses to businesses, lavishing them with low commissions and lots of revenue opportunities. And once they’re locked in, the company starts to claw back the surpluses for itself.

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/21/potemkin-ai/#hey-guys

Remember when Netflix was in the business of mailing red envelopes full of DVDs around the country? That was allocating surpluses to users. The movie companies hated this, viewed it as theft — a proposition that was at least as valid as Netflix’s complaints about password sharing, but every pirate wants to be an admiral, and when Netflix did it to the studios, that was “progress,” but when you do it to Netflix, that’s theft.

Then, once Netflix had users locked in and migrated to the web (and later, apps), it shifted surpluses to studios, paying fat licensing fees to stream their movies and connect them to a huge audience.

Finally, once the studios were locked in, Netflix started to harvest the surplus for its shareholders: raising prices, lowering streaming rates, knocking off other studios’ best performing shows with in-house clones, etc. Users’ surpluses are also on the menu: the password “sharing” that let you define a household according to your family’s own idiosyncratic contours is unilaterally abolished in a quest to punish feckless Gen Z kids for buying avocado toast instead of their own Netflix subscriptions.

Netflix was able to ignore the studios’ outraged howls when it built a business by nonconsenually distributing their products in red envelopes. But now that Netflix has come for your family, don’t even think about giving Netfix some of what it gave to the MPAA.

As a technical matter, it’s not really that hard to modify Netflix’s app so that every stream you pull seems to come from your house, no matter where you are. But doing so would require reverse-engineering Netflix’s app, and that would violate Section 1201 of the DMCA, the CFAA, and eleventy-seven other horrible laws. Netflix’s lawyers would nuke you until the rubble bounced.

When Netflix was getting started, it could freely interoperate with the DVDs that the studios had put on the market. It could repurpose those DVDs in ways that the studios strenuously objected to. In other words, Netfix used adversarial interoperability (AKA Competitive Compatibility or ComCom) to launch its business:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/10/adversarial-interoperability

Today, Netflix is on the vanguard of the war to abolish adversarial interop. They helped lead the charge to pervert W3C web-standards, creating a DRM video standard called EME that made it a crime to build a full-featured browser without getting permission from media companies and restricting its functionality to their specifications:

https://blog.samuelmaddock.com/posts/the-end-of-indie-web-browsers/

When they used adversarial interoperability to build a multi-billion-dollar global company using the movie studios’ products in ways the studios hated, that was progress. When you define “family” in ways that makes Netflix less money, that’s felony contempt of business model.

[Image ID: A Victorian family tree template populated by tintypes of old-timey people. In the foreground stands a menacing, chainsaw-wielding figure, his face obscured by a hoodie. The blade of the chainsaw is poised to chop down the family tree. A Netflix 'N' logo has been superimposed over the man's face.]

[roseyodditea]

Sit Still! - Boothill x gn! Reader

Summary -> 1.1k words. You're a mechanic who's been forcibly given the impossible task of repairing Boothill, the most stubborn customer you've ever done (even if this wasn't the first time)

Warnings -> None

A/N -> Is it obvious that I like working on electronics? No? Not proofread because I work a 7-5 office job and I am tired <3

********

“Hey! HEY! you keep that fudgin’ thing away from me!” Boothill jumps over the workbench in the middle of your workshop, watching your movements carefully. He was quite agile for a man that was on death’s door when he stumbled in here a mere half hour ago. 

You put the hot soldering pen down on the table against the wall. “Boothill. Let me do what I need to do.” Boothill crouches down like a wild animal, practically growling, his jaw clenched tightly. “What are you planning on doin’ with that thing?” “How the hell have you gone this long without using a soldering iron? How do you keep your body functional?” You lunge and reach for the back of his jacket, grabbing him by the collar as he tries to skitter away, but his damaged systems cause him to be slower and weaker than normal. “Whatever that thing is, my sensors say it’s hot and it smells forkin’ awful!” He tries even harder to wiggle out of your grasp, but he doesn't want to hurt you. You were the only mechanic in this star system that still put up with his shit. “Normally they turn me off for repairs. I ain’t never been awake for one.”

“Yeah well. I need you conscious for this part.” You shove him towards the workbench and he obeys, sitting up on it. “Lay down, open up your chest panel.” You command and push him down. 

“What are you plannin’?” He bites back the distrust and decides to lie down on the bench. He opens up his chest panel and watches you closely, the targets in his pupils lock on like he was about to rip out your jugular with those sharp teeth of his. “I will explain everything I do before I do it. Will that make things better?” You muster a soft tone, trying not to show that you are annoyed at his behavior already. Sure you had the stubborn electronics and machines that made you lose sleep, but this is the first time the repair work was done on someone who could give you sass. You don’t have the bedside manners for this…

Boothill still watches wearily, but at this point, he has no choice, his systems are borderline critical. He had already ignored the warnings for this long. “Alright… yeah… that’ll make it better.” You pick back up the soldering iron and show it to him. “This is a soldering pen. I’m going to use it to melt this stuff,” you pick up the roll of the thin metal that was on the table next to it, “onto the contacts between your wires and your circuit boards. It’ll help make sure everything is secure and won’t wiggle out of place. I need you awake because I need you to tell me if I set off any alarms and sensors in your body. Just as a failsafe to make sure I don’t accidentally kill you”

“Kill me!?”

“It’s a joke. Now shut up and don’t move”

He nods, still weary as you reach both your hands into his chest compartment, where he can’t see. He tries to hold down the panic, the fear, the worry. This was the most vulnerable he has ever been. This is why he likes being powered down for repairs. This was hell. The smell of molten tin permeates the air, only stressing him out further. 

“Calm down.” You say without looking up. “You’re fidgeting and I’m trying not to burn either of us.” He doesn’t listen. Of course, he doesn’t listen. His legs still fidget, his hands still move around, gripping the table. “Kinda hard when you’re wrist deep in my body. It tickles.”

“Boothill. Hold still.” You growl out, frustration building in your chest. This was delicate work on a not-so-delicate man. “Next time you squirm, I swear to whatever Aeon you worship-” He twitched again and your hand slipped, the soldering pen touching his bare circuit board, causing him to yelp out in pain. “Goddammit Boothill!!”

He shrinks away, recoiling from pain and your frustration. “Ah, shirt! It feels weird and I-” His words are cut off as you move to straddle his thighs, pinning his fidgeting legs underneath you. You point the hot soldering iron at his face. “Move again, and I will turn you off and just pray I don’t mix up wires.”

“Yes, boss.” He says, stunned as his hands instinctively move to rest on your thighs. “Ya know, last time I had someone on me like this I-” “Don’t” You reply, your hands working on sorting out the mess of wires he had let his innards become. You solder another wire down and look up into his eyes. “Is that one in the wrong spot?” “No, that feels right. I forgot I had that sensor.” He chuckles, relaxing against the workbench. “This ain’t that bad.” His hands gently trace circles against the material of your pants in an attempt to soothe his own anxiety. He could feel every movement your fingers made in his chest compartment. 

“Yeah, and it only took me thirty fucking minutes to get you to sit still.” You finish soldering all the wires down, satisfied with your work. “Alright. All done.” You toss the hot iron onto the table across the workshop. “See? Not that bad. You’re just whiny.” You move to get up, only to have Boothill tug you back down onto his lap, sitting up so you both are face to face. 

“Thank you.” 

“Wow. I didn’t know you were capable of genuine gratitude.” You tease, grabbing his hat and putting it back on his head. 

He adjusts his hat into the proper place. “I know I owe you credits, but what can I do to thank you, sugar? This ain’t the first time I’ve stumbled into your workshop late at night, mostly dead.”

“Just come back alive again.” You knock his hat out of place on purpose, leaning forward to kiss his forehead. “That’s good enough for me.” You hop off of the workbench. “Now get the hell out and let me go to sleep. It’s too late at night to be lookin’ at your face.” “Yes, boss.” 

“See ya next time.” “There won’t be a next time.” He tries to keep up his tough appearance as you roll your eyes and move to sort and put away your tools. He smiles to himself and purposefully takes his whip off his belt, tossing it on the table while your back is turned and he slips out. 

Once you knew he had fully slipped away, you rolled your eyes, grabbing the whip and hanging it up on the hook you installed on the wall just for this purpose. 

He always left a reason to come back, and you always pretended to be oblivious to it. 

**********

Super special super optional A/N -> someone sent me an anonymous message a couple days ago saying they like my writing and I CRIED. Turns out when you break out of your comfort zone and share a hobby you get support??? Odd.

[lipglossanon]

Stay Right Through

☆───── ⋆⋅🐾⋅⋆ ─────☆

Dogman!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader (one shot)

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, hybrid au, dogman Leon, master/pet dynamics, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), mounting, breeding, knotting, unprotected sex, creampie

not proofread 👌

Title from Wandering by Good Charlotte 💜

Part 2: I Only Touched Her Hips But She Saw It

☆───── ⋆⋅🐾⋅⋆ ─────☆

Excitement makes your leg bounce as you wait for the lady to come back from setting up. 

You did get to the hybrid adoption center a little early, but you’re just really happy to be here! 

Hybrids were all the craze ages ago, but since the newness has died off (aka puppy syndrome has waned) there were more and more of these places opening up. Your parents never saw the point in getting a hybrid for the family, very old fashioned not to mention pretty anti pet in general. 

So now, you have your own place and a steady job that isn’t eating up all your time anymore making it the perfect time to get a feel for what kind of hybrid you want. You’re definitely open to any of them, but it seems like the dog hybrids have a higher turnover rate which is why you’re at this specific adoption center. 

The lady finally comes around to the front desk and smiles at you. 

“Sorry for the wait, now how may I help you?”

You glance at her name tag, “Hi Patricia, and I’m looking into adopting. I was hoping to kinda get the ball rolling today.”

She laughs, “Not a problem. If you could fill out this form, I can put this in the system while you take a look around and see if there’s anyone you like.”

“Thank you,” you smile, taking the forms and returning to your seat. 

It takes a lot longer than anticipated, but soon enough you have all your i’s dotted and t’s crossed. Turning in the clipboard, Patricia stands up and leads you over to a locked door. She runs her card across the electronic sensor and opens it for you. 

She gives you a little nudge inside, “There are caretakers throughout if you have questions or concerns. Cameras are all over the facility but you look like a nice enough person so I’m sure we won’t have any issues.”

She laughs a little and waves as she closes the door behind her, leaving you to sort of walk around and look. 

The place is a lot different than the mental picture you had; it’s set up like an open floor plan, but with individual mini rooms separated by cubicle partitions. It seems like in the center is just a large lounge type area with couches and an entertainment center. Past all of that you can make out granite counters suggesting a kitchen. 

With that, you can see all kinds of hybrids hanging around in the living area or just milling about talking with one another. 

“Hi! Need help?”

You look over at the perky blonde woman with the name tag Sherry.

“Uh kinda, I just don’t want to step on any toes, y’know?” you smile feeling a little shy. 

“Not a problem,” she laughs, gesturing for you to walk with her, “I’ll just give you a quick tour and let you meet some of the pups.”

“Not that I don’t appreciate it, but I was really hoping to look at older—“

“Oh gosh, that’s great,” she gushes, “sorry to cut you off, but we have more than we like to see with older dog men.”

“Oh,” you laugh at her bubbly attitude, “well that’s great,” you wince, “not that it’s great.”

She pats your arm in solidarity, “I totally understand. But I’ll take you right over to where they like to hangout. They tend to stay away from the center of the lounge, too many yapping pups.”

Her voice must mimic one of the older hybrids with that last comment and you laugh along with her. 

She guides you closer to the kitchen area but off to the side that sort of resembles a ‘man cave’ for lack of a better term. It’s more dimly lit with similar lounge furnishings. 

“Hi everyone!” Sherry lights up the space with her presence, some of the hybrids calling back to her as you two walk closer. 

“We have a new prospective friend here,” she introduces you to a trio of dog men standing up from the couch. 

“Nice to meet you all!” you wave, excitement probably making you smile like a maniac but you’re just so happy to finally have this chance. 

“Nice to meet you, I’m Chris,” a tall, dark haired dogman nods, his Rottweiler ears flopping a little as he tilts his head to look over at the other two. 

“H-hi, I’m Ethan,” the mild mannered blonde rubs the back of his neck nervously, his twitching ears reminding you of a Chow Chow making you smile wider. 

“Leon,” the last dogman gives you a lazy two finger salute, sandy blonde hair nearly hiding his soft Labrador ears.  

“Would you like to hang out here while I run off to grab some pamphlets?” Sherry asks you with a twinkle in her eye, giving you an option to hang out with these three alone.

“Sure,” you nod, watching as she spins on her heel and walks in the direction of the office. 

You turn back to the three dog men who quickly invite you to sit and hang out. Chris is quick to talk, adept at conversation making you laugh at some anecdote or other. Ethan’s a little more subdued, reminding you of yourself, chiming in every now and then. He seems to help reign Chris in when he gets a little too enthusiastic. 

Leon, although he talks less than Chris, constantly draws your attention. You don’t know if it’s cheesy puns or his overly cynical jabs (which Chris takes offense to and then Ethan’s breaking up their growling and snapping), but you have a good feeling about him. So by the time Sherry makes her way back with some actually helpful pamphlets, your mind is all made up. 

“It was so nice meeting you all,” you wave cheerfully, following Sherry back to the front.

“Well, any lucky candidates?” Sherry asks with poorly hidden enthusiasm. 

“Yep,” you smile at her, happy with your choice, “I’d love to take in Leon, if he’s fine with it of course.”

“I’m sure he will be!” she enthuses, clapping her hands, “he’s been here the longest so I’m so happy to see someone finally pick him!”

“Really?” you look back through the door right before it shuts, “I’m surprised.”

“Eh,” she waves you off, leading you over to a different section, “he’s just grumpy,” she pauses and looks around before whispering, “people come in, pick him out, then being him back after the trial week. Always the same, he’s too sarcastic, too grumpy, they just want a younger dog.” 

Your heart cracks after hearing that, determination blazing through the sadness, “Well that’s not happening this time.”

Sherry looks at you, eyes contemplative before grinning, “I think you two will be a good fit!”

She has you hang out in her office as she prints some documents to put in a Manila folder for you to take home. 

“You’re all set,” she leads you out the back to the parking lot, “your background check should clear in about three days and we’ll call to set up a time to have Leon do a trial stay at your place.” 

You hesitate but push through to ask, “Is it okay if I come by tomorrow? I’d like to make sure Leon is fine with it, too.”

Sherry looks a little teary eyed as she quickly nods, “Of course, please do. I think he’s gonna be perfectly happy with ya though.”

You bid your goodbyes and you get in your car to head home. It’s not that far of a drive, luckily, and since it’s on the other part of town there’s no crazy traffic. You’re home lounging on the couch in no time, texting your friend Heather all the details. Once you send her the link to Leon’s profile, she does not shut up about him.  

Rolling your eyes, you close your phone and start reading through the folder. It’s all pretty basic info on how to care for a hybrid; they’re pretty much like a person, just a little less adept at some things. They can hold a job if they wish but more seem to choose the pet lifestyle. 

Gazing down at Leon’s profile photo, you  just really wanna take care of him. Show him that not all owners are complete douchebags. 

The next day passes quickly and by the time works over, you’re tired but buzzing—excited to get to the adoption place and meet up with Leon again. 

Sherry greets you again, just as enthusiastic as before. She leads you over to one of the cubicle partitioned rooms and raps her knuckles on the side. 

“Leon, she’s here,” her voice sing songs. 

“Have fun,” she pats your arm and turns back the way you both came. 

Leon’s nice enough to you, but you can tell he’s acting very closed off—keeping all of the conversation pretty baseline and shallow. No matter how grumpy and gruff he’s acting, you’re literally showering him with enthusiasm. You show him pictures of your house (including the room that’s all his, if he wants it or you can work something else out). 

You ask him tons of questions, but he only answers a few. A few times you say something that makes him smother a smile or a laugh making your heart flutter in your chest. Right before it’s time to go, you’re shifting on your feet at the opening of his room. 

“I know I’ve asked a million times, but are you good with living with me? I promise I really won’t push it if not,” you smile shyly, “I’d be super bummed though.”

His blue eyes watch you, unreadable for a moment before he smirks, “Hey beats being here,” he raises his voice a little, “plus I won’t have to deal with deadbeat rotties.”

The partition wall next to you rattles and you see Chris looming over it to glare at Leon. 

“I’ll be glad to see you go, tomorrow can’t get here soon enough.”

“Tomorrow?” you ask quizzically. 

Leon looks a little sheepish but shrugs easily, “Pretty sure they pushed it through this afternoon.”

“Oh,” you beam, feeling giddy all over, “that’s great! I’ll be here as soon as works over! Oh! And then we have the whole weekend to get you settled in, this is going to be so much fun!”

Chris and Leon both look amused as you finish rambling, now feeling bashful for coming on too strong.  

You fidget before clearing your throat, “C-can I pet your ears?”

Chris’ eyebrows raise and he grins at Leon, “Can’t believe you, Kennedy; she hasn’t got to pet you yet?” he tilts his head toward you, while looking at Leon, “you can pet me, ma’am.”

Leon steps between you two and snarls at him making Chris laugh and drop back down behind his wall. He walks closer to you, lowering his head due to his height. 

You smile sweetly making him blush as you softly run your hands through his hair before coming up to rub his soft sandy colored ears. He shivers and headbuts your shoulder, silently asking for more. Stifling the giggle that wants to escape, you use both hands to pet and rub his soft ears. 

“You’re such a good boy,” you murmur not really thinking. 

He whines a little and nuzzles into your neck making the giggle you were suppressing come bubbling out. He noses against your skin, huffing warm breaths as you continue to pet him. 

“You’re so sweet, Leon, I’m happy you’re coming home with me,” you keep your voice low and soothing.

He only chuffs against your neck, rough tongue coming out to lap at your skin before he’s pulling away. You smile at him as Sherry turns the corner. 

“Sorry to cut this short, but we’re closing soon. Good news is you and Leon leave out from here together tomorrow,” she hands you yet another folder filled with information. 

You take the folder and wave to Leon who moved back over to his bed, “See you tomorrow, Leon.”

He just gives you a little wave as Sherry leads you back to the front. She sees you out the door with a smile and a promise to be the one to help you out. 

Once you get home, you pace your living room. You feel like you have so much to do but don’t know where to start. Texting Heather, she tells you to chill out and actually sit down. Laughing to yourself about how well she knows you, you collapse onto your couch just realizing how tired you actually feel.  

Your phone dings with a new text from Heather. Honestly, ever since you told her your idea, she’s been sending you cute puppy videos. They’ve been full of all types of pets getting along with their owners doing silly things together.  It honestly helped you cement your plan on picking an older dogman since you rarely saw any in those videos. 

This text, however, was sent with the cryptic ‘to fill in those lonely hours 😜’ and knowing her sense of humor you’re kinda worried about the link. 

Knick Knack Paddywhack sounds kinda cheesy but you definitely didn’t expect porn to be on the other side of that link. 

At first you don’t even realize that’s what it is; it starts off pretty tame in general and before you know it this female owner is being mandhandled face down onto the couch as this huge, buff mandog is mounting her from behind. 

“Yeah you’ve been fucking gagging for this doggy’s dick huh?” 

You really should exit from the video but some dark horny part of your brain is too entranced by what’s happening to even move. Distantly, you notice that his dick looks exactly like a human male’s just with the addition of a knot at the base. He fucks her roughly, stretching her out and forcing his cock deep in her wet pussy. 

The dirty talk is really what’s making you go a little cross eyed with arousal. 

“Oh fuck yeah, knot me, breed my little pussy.”

“You want that? Wanna be my pretty bitch always on her hands and knees?”

“Unh unh yeah, make me your bitch. Wanna have your pups.”

You watch in mounting curiosity and arousal and shame as the camera shows her cunt take his entire knot, sealing them together as he ruts through her climax. 

Quickly exiting before the video can go further, you drop your head in your hands. Your panties are soaked, making your thighs feel tacky. In a daze, you move off the couch and head into the bathroom to take a shower. Your thoughts are a whirlwind. 

You’ve honestly never given it any thought about inter species relationships; you’ve heard about them sure, but only in passing and never any details. Now, you literally can’t stop thinking about that mandog dominating his ‘owner’ and knotting her. Shivering, your nipples pebble under the warm water. 

Leon’s gruff voice and handsome face swim into your thoughts making your clit pulse with your heartbeat. Would he—

You shake your head vigorously. Nope, not going there. You’re gonna shower and then go to bed, maybe watch a cartoon or something to keep your thoughts G rated. 

All of that’s easier said than done, but you somehow manage and before you know it you’re waking up the next morning, excited to go pick up Leon and bring him home. 

It’s pretty anticlimactic once you leave work and pick Leon up; Sherry had everything at the front ready to go with Leon just standing next to her. She leads him out to the car with you carrying the essentials, stowing them in the trunk while she unclips his collar and leash. 

“Please keep us updated,” she ruffles Leon’s hair making him bat her hands away with an eye roll, “we love seeing our pups flourish.”

“Not a pup,” he grouses, climbing into the backseat and shutting the door. 

Sherry laughs, “I’ll miss him but I’m more happy he’s leaving.”

“Thank you so much for everything,” you shake her hand, “and I promise to stop by every now and again with updates.”

She walks back inside as you climb into your car. Looking at Leon in the rear view mirror as he stares out the window moodily, you crank the car and slowly leave the lot. 

“Do you need anything before we get home?” you ask, breaking the quiet. 

He shakes his head no making his ears flop. You hide your smile and turn your attention back to the road. Once home, Leon settles in seamlessly; he takes the bedroom you offer but after the second night has made a little bed for himself in your room, tucked into the corner. When you asked, concerned he wasn’t happy with his room, he just gave you the short reply of needing to make sure you’re safe. 

You didn’t push it but let him know he’s more than welcome to tell you if he’s unhappy with anything. 

Days passed into weeks which quickly became months. Leon made himself right at home and now you really couldn’t picture your life without the dogman. It was nice coming home after a long day and be greeted with someone so happy to see you. Although Leon is still pretty stunted with showing affection, you usually can convince him to snuggle you on the couch and let you pet him til his tail wags. 

He’s really particular about having his tail touched so you don’t pry or push, more than happy to just pet his head and ears. 

Today when you get home for work and enter the house, Leon’s beelining straight for you, burying his face in your neck. 

“TGIF huh,” you laugh, petting his ears making him whine. 

“Missed you so much,” he breaths in your smell, tongue lapping up your neck to your jaw, stubble tickling your skin. 

He licks across your mouth once making you jerk back but he quickly follows, raspy tongue licking over your lips and chin. 

“Leon—“

You try to tell him to stop as you push at his shoulders but that just gives him the leverage to lick into your mouth. You keep pushing at him while you take a step back to make him stop, but your legs get tangled and you both fall back on the entryway carpet. 

Leon still hasn’t let up, and since you were more worried about making sure neither of you hurt yourselves when tripping, he’s drooling and licking into your mouth making you whine and push harder at his shoulders. 

He shifts until he’s between your legs and rocks down against the apex of your thighs. Grunting, he shoves your skirt up and tears your panties in half. One of his broad hands, grabs your flailing arms by the wrists and pins them to your chest. 

Finally he pulls away from your swollen mouth, licking his way down to your neck again. 

“Leon, stop being such a bad boy,” you gasp out, “what’s gotten into you?”

“Heat,” he sniffs against your neck before lightly licking the skin again, “need you so bad.”

You’re in a daze as you feel his bulge grinding against your bare pussy, slick starting to slowly drip out of your hole. As much as you protest, you’re really getting off on this, on Leon losing control and wanting to fuck you. 

“T-there are heat toys the center gave me,” you try to cut this off before you both go too far, “you can use those.”

He growls and nips your neck making you whimper. 

“Don’t wanna knotting toy,” his growling is getting deeper as he grinds against you harder, “only wanna knot my pretty owner.”

“Oh fuck,” you moan as he rubs against your clit just right.

Your mind flashes back to that video you saw months ago, hips bucking up into Leon imagining him mounting you in the same way. 

“Leon, s’bad, we shouldn’t—ngh, fuck!”

He pulls completely away from you and buries his nose in your pussy, raspy tongue eagerly licking up the slick dripping out of you. 

He growls and looks up at you as he mouths across your swollen clit, letting his rough tongue lap at the bundle of nerves til you’re keening and spreading your legs for him. 

He smirks, “That’s a good little owner, let me taste your sweet little pussy. Fuck, been smelling you for ages and now I can finally eat you out as much as I want.”

“Leon, you’re being such a bad boy right now,” you hiccup a whine, thighs straining to stay open. 

“Nah,” he kisses hour clit and softy licks it over and over and over, “you’re just being a bad girl, need me to put you in your place.”

You whine as he goes back to tongue fucking into your fluttering walls. Reaching down, you softly grasp his hair and rock against his mouth. He grunts and somehow shoves his face even more into your soaked cunt, greedily lapping at you with his rough tongue. 

The arguments you should make die on your tongue as Leon uses his to make you shiver and shake, goosebumps trailing along your body. With a low keening moan, you relax against him, letting him use that rough tongue to lick your cunt until you’re bucking up into his mouth.

He keeps you there, pinned to the entryway carpet as he eats you out for hours, never letting you cum once. By the time your bleary eyes take in the street lamps through your window, Leon’s pulling away from your slick pussy making you whine. 

“Leon, we shouldn’t,” your pussy throbs, entire body strung tight from your denied orgasms. 

“Have to,” his eyes are so dilated they look black, “don’t you wanna help me? Just need it one time.” 

He looms over you, forearms caging in your head, his jaw and mouth covered in wetness as he grinds his dick against your mound. Glancing down you take in just how big Leon is; he’s so hard the head is peaking through his foreskin, dripping precum all over your thighs.  Then, right at his base, you can see the beginnings of a knot forming which makes your pussy ache with want.  

You’re nodding up at him, belatedly answering his question, “Yeah, I wanna help you,” your hands come up to pet his hair, “wanna help my good boy.”

He yanks your blouse off, seams popping and tearing until it’s in shreds around you then snaps your bra off and tosses it away. His mouth eagerly licks and nips at your pebbled nipples making you gasp. 

“Gonna make you feel so good, breed this hot pussy.”

With a growl, Leon flips you over onto your stomach, hands going to your hips to raise your ass up. You try to push up onto your arms, but his broad palm pushes on the middle of your back shoving your upper body down. 

You rock your hips back although there’s not much room from how he’s laying on top of you, back pinned to his broad hairy chest as his cock rubs against your drippy cunt. 

“You wanna breed me?” you tease making him growl and snap at the nape of your neck, “wanna knot my pussy?”

He buries the first few inches of his cock in your pussy making you squeal and arch away. His hands move to keep your hips still as pulls out to thrust back in, sinking his cock all the way inside of you making you squirm in place with a cry.  

“Think it’s funny?” his tone sounds mean as he ruts his fat cock deeper into your pussy making you wince and try to move away again. 

He clucks his tongue and tightly squeezes your hips, “No little owner, you wanted it and you’re gonna get it. Show you how I breed bitches that need a knot.”

“Oh god,” you whine as he bullies his cock even further into your cunt, “Leon s’too much, you won’t fit, I wasn’t made to—“

“This pussy was made for cock,” he scoffs down at you making your body hot all over from his words, “just gotta break you in first; I’ll have you begging for me to knot you.”

His mocking is only making you wetter, pussy walls clenching and pulsing around his cock. 

“S’too much,” you finally gasp out, not stopping yourself from rocking back against his slow thrusts, “shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Yeah?” he snorts, “think it’s dirty? Think it’s wrong to want me to fuck you? I bet this entire time you’ve been thinking, Oh please Leon need your big doggy dick to stuff my needy little pussy.”

You moan loudly at his crude words as he laughs. 

“Like I thought. You like it you dirty little slut. Like my thick doggy cock filling you up?”

“Leon no,” you whimper, eyes rolling back as he grinds against that spongy spot in your cunt that has you moaning nonstop, “s’dirty ‘n you don’t even have a dog di—“

“Shut up,” his canines nip at your skin making you keen, “gotta teach this little pussy who’s the real master here.”

You gasp and keen as Leon stretches your pussy out on his large cock, bottoming out constantly making your cunt clamp down on him from the pain of his tip knocking against your cervix.  

Like earlier, he keeps you pinned to the carpet and slowly fucks your pussy for what feels like hours all while talking filth to you. 

“Mmm knew your pussy would be so good, been humping my fist waiting for my heat so I can fill you up.”

“My sexy fucking owner, letting me knot her pussy, breed her full of my pups.”

“I know, I’m so big for this tiny little pussy  but doesn’t it feel so good? So nice and stretched out?” 

“Leon,” you keen hands scrabbling at the floor, mouth drooling everywhere, “my knees hurt.”

He pauses and gently eases himself out of your cunt. Not giving you time to breathe, he already has you hoisted over his shoulder and carries you into your room. Tossing you onto the bed, he’s back on top of you in a flash burying his dick inside your sopping wet pussy. 

You look down and whine to see the belly bulge his fat cock makes inside your body. 

“Nice and snug,” Leon licks your cheek, “gonna be so tight on my knot.”

“It’s not gonna fit,” you whine up at him, nails digging into to his forearms so hard they’re bleeding. 

You’re already so full, pussy feeling like it’s stretched to the limit, but his knot is pressing against your soaked hole making you rock down into it. 

“Sure it will, little owner,” he laughs, voice gravelly and deep making you shudder and relax around his dick, hole giving just a little around his knot, “that’s why I licked you open so good earlier.”

You moan as he licks across your cheek, “Tongued you deep until you were practically squirting in my mouth.”

“Leon, oh fuck,” you hiccup a moan, tears slipping down your face. 

“So good for me, prettiest cunt I’ve ever seen and it’s all mine,” he grunts, grinding against your fluttering pussy walls as his drippy tip knocks against your cervix, “my owner and her fat pussy are all mine.”

“Leon,” you gasp, “you can’t say that.”

“Sure I can,” he huffs warm air against your neck, his canine teeth nipping at your skin, “I’m gonna knot your tiny pussy and breed you. Give you my pups.”

“Nooo,” you whimper, pussy pulsing and clamping around his cock, knot continuing to press inside. 

“Gonna mount my pretty owner like this every day,” he kisses your neck before licking his way back up to your mouth, “mount my little bitch and give her wet needy cunt my knot.”

“‘M not your bitch,” you finally gasp out around his tongue as he drools and licks into your mouth, “this can’t happen again, Leon.”

“Okay,” he chuckles, “gonna make me use that toy? That fake little plastic pussy? Y’gonna let me knot it in front of you, knowing what I feel like now? I don’t think so little owner.”

He pulls out and flips you over on your stomach, yanking your hips up so your ass is raised, head still down on the mattress. 

“Should be able to fit it this way,” he slaps your ass and you whine, fingers twisting in the sheets. 

His cock plunges back into your sopping wet cunt over and over; his knot teasing you on every thrust until he slowly grinds deep into your fluttering walls. 

“I’m gonna put it in this time, knot you nice and deep,” he pants against your shoulder, mouth drooling all over your skin making you shiver, “gonna knock you up, breed you til it takes.”

You moan and press back against him, mind slow and hazy. He pulls back and then presses forward slowly but insistently and you wail as his knot breaches your clenching hole. His cock’s filling you up so much it feels like he’s in the bottom of your throat. 

“Oh fuck, I’m cumming,” you whimper, pussy gushing around his impossibly huge dick, walls milking his knot repeatedly as he just continues to grind into your cunt. 

“Feels good,” he slurs, licking over your neck and shoulders, “pussy squeezing me so tight.”

You moan weakly, pussy pulsing around his dick as he continues to grind his hips into your ass.

“Gonna spill deep inside my pretty little owner and she just has to take it,” he chuffs against your neck, groaning as he humps deeper into your cunt.

His grunts taper off into low growls as he rocks harder against you. 

“Gonna fuck my pups into you,” he’s snarling into your ear, saliva dripping down the shell onto your jaw making you mewl, “keep this pussy plugged up with my cum all the time—oh.” 

He bites down on your shoulder, sharp teeth breaking your skin making you whine as your body burns with pleasure at the pain. You can fill as hot cum floods your pussy, Leon grunting as he keeps humping against your ass while his knot locks you two together.

His fingers slip from your hip over to your swollen clit and he roughly rubs against the sensitive bud until you’re crying and whining, pussy cumming around his cock again. 

“There we go, such a good owner,” Leon chuckles in your ear, before dipping down to lick over the bite he left, “mmm milk me, want you so full it’s spilling out.”

⋆⋅🐾⋅⋆

You lay there underneath him, feeling exhausted but content. It’s been several hours at this point and you feel like you’re on another plane of existence. Leon has fucked you better than anyone before and you’re definitely addicted to his knot. 

Reaching back, your hand finds his hair and pushing up higher you pet behind his soft fuzzy ears. 

“S’good,” he mouths against your shoulder as he ruts inside your knot plugged pussy.  

Shuddering as his fingers tease against your clit drawing another weak orgasm from your spent body, you whimper and press even closer to Leon. 

“Gonna take such good care of you, little owner,” he kisses you shoulder, “by the time my heat’s over, you’re gonna be my needy little pup.”

Your pussy tightens around him at his words making him whine and nuzzle into your neck. As you lay together, you let your mind drift into a hazy fog. Once Leon’s able to, he gently pulls out of your sore cunt, cum oozing out of your hole. 

His rough tongue licks across your cheek as he rolls you onto your back. 

“So pretty,” he says to himself as he kisses and bites his way down to your chest. 

He laps a path to the swell of your breasts and then softly suckles a hard nipple into his mouth. With a groan, he tugs the hard bud with his teeth before sucking harshly and releasing it with a pop. His mouth drifts over to repeat the same process to the other hard nipple, then moves back; repeatedly teasing your breasts until you’re squirming and whining, grabbing onto his hair to have something to hold onto. 

He finally pulls away with a growl, eyes dark and heated as he noses at your breastbone, “Smell so good.”

He drags his mouth down your body, eagerly licking and biting at your skin until he finally reaches your puffy mound and clit. 

“Taste good too,” his stubbled jaw tickles where he scrapes it against your thigh, “love licking your pussy all over.”

He follows his word by licking a broad stripe across your cum coated pussy, groaning as he brings his hands up to spread your cunt open. His rough tongue laps at your clit in quick little strokes before dipping into your creamy slicked hole. He laps and lathes his tongue all over your pussy, sucking at your clit before dragging his mouth over to your thighs. 

“Gonna mark you up, little owner,” he chuffs against your skin, eyes staring up at you with his tail wagging excitedly behind him. 

“Leon,” you whimper. 

Your fingers twist in the sheets as you cry out. His teeth are buried in the meat of your inner thigh making your clit throb with need.  He sucks harshly at the skin, digging in harder when your thigh trembles under his mouth. 

With a grunt, he lets go but then sinks his teeth into your opposite thigh; this one closer to your pussy, making you buck up into his mouth with a gasp. He hums in satisfaction, lips and teeth working at your skin until it’s sore and bruised.

He pulls back with a grin, “You’re even more pretty now.”

“Feel pretty,” you murmur, eyes glassy with arousal. 

He pants excitedly, hands grasping your thighs to hold you open as he licks and drools all over your pussy. You arch, his mouth making you rock up into the feeling as he noisily eats you out. Letting go of the sheets, your hands reach for his head and accidentally grab onto his ears. He snarls and fucks his raspy tongue up into your fluttering cunt, pressing you down even further so he can lick into you more. 

He pulls himself away before you can cum making you whine. 

“Please, Leon, ‘m so close, be a goody boy and make me cum,” you pout at him, tears pricking at your eyes. 

He crawls up your body, pressing your hands down with his as he rubs his thick cock against your pussy. His head glides through your slick folds til he’s bumping against you clit making you spread your legs wide. 

“You can cum on my knot,” he kisses you, all drool and spit, “wanna mount you again.”

You shudder underneath him and easily let him roll you over. Raising your ass up, you spread your thighs for better leverage. 

“Like this?” you ask a little shy now. 

“Perfect,” he groans, dragging his rough palms down your back to slap you ass, “my pretty owner and her pretty pussy ‘n it’s all mine.”

He sinks his cock into your willing cunt inch by inch, licking and biting at your nape as he rocks himself deeper into you. 

“Gonna breed you so good,” he mutters into your skin, “pussy made for my fat cock, isn’t it? Made to take my knot.”

“Uh huh,” you slur, pussy pulsing and fluttering around his dick as he slowly thrusts into your spasming walls. 

He chuffs and bites your neck a little harder as he snaps his hips hard against your ass. His hand moves from your back to your pussy, softly rubbing and teasing across your swollen clit. 

“Sweet fucking pussy,” he snorts, nose burying itself in your hair, “squeezing me so tight, know it needs a knot.”

“Give it to me, Leon,” you moan loudly, “knot my pussy, please, want it so bad, feels so good.”

His teeth latch onto back of your neck and he pounds into your squelching cunt, knot catching on the rim of your pussy with every thrust. 

“Knot me, Leon, knot me, please, need it,” you’re chanting under your breath , eyes fluttering as your orgasm is fast approaching. 

He can’t say anything with his mouth biting into your neck, but his fingers circle your clit faster, pinching it just right between his fingers making you shake under him. 

“Fuck, right there, please Leon, fuck me,” you rock back against him, wanting his knot to be inside your pussy already, “fuck me, give it to me, give me your knot. Wanna be your little bitch.”

He lets go of your neck with a low howl as he shoves his knot past your twitching hole and ruts hard in your cunt, fat tip grinding against your cervix so hard it’s going to bruise. 

You squeal as he tweaks your clit making your pussy clamp down like a vice around his knot as you cum so hard you see fireworks. Your walls rhythmically milk his cock as he grinds and ruts into your hole. 

“G’nna cum,” he whimpers, sounding drunk. 

“Mmm,” you squirm against him, feeling as hot pulses of jizz fill your pussy. 

He grunts as he spills deep inside you, spurt after spurt of sticky cum shooting out against your cervix as his knot keeps your cunt nice and full. 

“Gonna give you my pups,” he licks at the bite wound on your neck and then the one he gave your shoulder when this all first started. 

“Fuck,” you mewl, thighs tightening as his fingers go back to teasing and circling your clit. 

“Cum for me, little owner,” he goads in your ear, “show me how much you want me to breed this needy pussy.. again and again. And again.”

His fingers circle your clit, the rough pads rubbing you just right making you climax around his cock for the second time that round. You shiver and moan as he keeps teasing your swollen bud. 

“Good girl, so good,” he nips your ear, “my own little pet.”

[the-winter-spider]

Death Rattle | B. Barnes

word count: 4.4k

Warnings: Angst, death

A/N: I was inspired by how did it end by ts, enjooooyyyyyyyy

Not proof read or edited will do that tonight!

----

The quinjet hummed quietly as you and the team prepared for the mission ahead. You adjusted your comms, listening to the chatter of your teammates as you loaded your weapons.

“So, what’s the bet today?” Sam’s voice crackled over the comms.

“I say Steve’s shield gets stuck in a wall again,” you teased, glancing at the Captain with a grin. “Ten bucks.”

Steve rolled his eyes, adjusting his helmet. “That happened once.”

“And we’ll never let you forget it,” Natasha chimed in smoothly. “I’m betting Bucky’s arm malfunctions, Fifty bucks says he’s cursing up a storm in Russian before we’re done here.”

“Ha ha, very funny,” Bucky grumbled, though you could hear the smirk in his voice. “I’d say something about Romanoff’s hair getting messed up, but that’s just asking for trouble.”

“Smart man,” Natasha replied with a smirk.

“Alright, focus up, team,” Steve said, his voice firm as the quinjet began to descend. “Intel says the Hydra base is heavily guarded, but we’re taking them by surprise. Y/N, you and Bucky take the east wing. Sam, Natasha, you’re with me on the west. We take out the comms tower, secure the data, and get out.”

“Got it, Cap,” you confirmed, tightening your grip on your weapon. Bucky gave you a nod, his blue eyes filled with quiet determination.

“Hey, Y/N,” Sam’s voice broke in just before you dropped down to the ground. “Try not to blow anything up this time, alright?”

“No promises, birdbrain,” you shot back, grinning as you and Bucky hit the ground running.

—

The mission had been going smoothly—too smoothly, if you were being honest with yourself. You and Bucky had infiltrated the Hydra base with minimal resistance, clearing the first few checkpoints with ease. It was almost unsettling how little security you’d encountered, but you pushed the thought aside as you focused on the task at hand.

“Alright, we’re in,” you whispered into your comm, pressing yourself against the wall as you peeked around the corner. “Heading to the main server room.”

“Copy that,” Steve’s voice crackled in your ear. “Sam and I have the control room in sight. Be ready to move once we take it out.”

“Got it,” you replied, glancing at Bucky beside you. He gave you a nod, his eyes scanning the hallway ahead. You both moved in perfect sync, your footsteps silent as you made your way down the dimly lit corridor.

“Man, I can’t believe we’re doing this without any real backup,” you muttered, shaking your head as you reached the door to the server room. “It’s almost too easy.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “You know that’s asking for trouble, right?”

You smirked, shrugging as you began to work on the door’s control panel. “Hey, if something goes wrong, at least we’re together.”

“Yeah, ‘cause that always works out so well,” Bucky quipped, his voice dry but tinged with warmth.

You chuckled, focusing on bypassing the security lock. “You’re just mad because I usually end up saving your butt.”

Bucky snorted softly, shaking his head. “You keep telling yourself that, doll.”

The lock beeped, and the door slid open with a quiet hiss. You and Bucky slipped inside, your eyes scanning the rows of servers that filled the room. Everything was eerily quiet—no alarms, no guards, just the hum of electronics around you.

“Alright, let’s make this quick,” you said, pulling out the EMP device from your pack. “Once this goes off, we’ll have about two minutes to get out before the backup systems kick in.”

“Two minutes?” Bucky gave you a look. “You sure you didn’t set that timer a little tight?”

You grinned, already attaching the device to the main server. “Where’s the fun in a long timer? Besides, you love a challenge.”

“Not when it involves getting blown up,” he muttered, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips.

Just as you were about to activate the EMP, a familiar voice crackled over the comms. “Hey, Y/N,” Sam’s voice was light, almost amused. “Try not to blow anything up this time, alright?”

You rolled your eyes, pressing the button to start the timer. “No promises, birdbrain.”

“Seriously, don’t—” But Sam’s voice cut off as the EMP activated, the lights flickering before plunging the room into darkness.

“Time to move!” you called out, grabbing Bucky’s arm as you bolted for the exit. The two of you sprinted down the hallway, the sound of alarms finally blaring through the base. The EMP had done its job, but it had also triggered the security systems.

“I swear, you live for the chaos,” Bucky grumbled as you turned a corner, narrowly avoiding a group of Hydra agents who were scrambling to respond to the alarms.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” you shot back, your adrenaline spiking as you took out two agents with quick, precise shots.

Bucky just shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?”

“Nah,” you teased, ducking into an adjacent hallway. “I’ll leave that to Hydra.”

Just as you said it, an explosion rocked the building—one you hadn’t planned. The shockwave threw you both off your feet, slamming you into the wall as debris rained down around you.

“What the hell was that?!” Bucky shouted, coughing as dust filled the air.

“Not me!” you called back, pulling him to his feet. “I didn’t touch anything, I swear!”

“Must’ve hit something important with that EMP,” Bucky muttered, wincing as he rubbed his shoulder. “Or they just really didn’t want us getting out.”

“Guess we better not disappoint them,” you said with a grim smile. “Come on, let’s move before this whole place comes down.”

The two of you sprinted for the extraction point, the sound of collapsing ceilings and distant explosions echoing through the base. You could feel the tension rising in your chest, the thrill of the mission mingling with the ever-present danger. But even as the walls crumbled around you, you couldn’t help but laugh, a wild, exhilarated sound that caught Bucky off guard.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, glancing at you with raised eyebrows.

“Just thinking,” you gasped, dodging a falling chunk of concrete, “Sam’s gonna kill me when he finds out about this.”

Bucky shook his head, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, but it’s why we keep you around, isn’t it?”

“Chaos and explosions?” you quipped, ducking under a low-hanging beam.

“And saving my butt,” Bucky added, his eyes glinting with affection despite the chaos surrounding you.

You just smiled, your heart racing for reasons that had nothing to do with the mission. “Guess we’re even then, huh?”

“Guess so,” Bucky agreed, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary.

The two of you finally burst out into the open air, the quinjet waiting for you on the horizon. As you ran for it, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just another crazy day in your life—one that you wouldn’t trade for anything

—

The base was eerily quiet as you made your way inside, the only sounds coming from the hum of machinery and the distant murmur of Hydra agents. You and Bucky moved in sync, clearing rooms with practised ease.

“You know, this is almost too easy,” you muttered, ducking behind a crate as you approached the east wing. “I’m starting to think they’re just letting us in.”

“Don’t jinx it, doll,” Bucky replied, scanning the hallway ahead. “We get in, get the data, and get out. Nice and simple.”

“Simple? Us? You’re funny, Barnes,” you quipped, flashing him a grin before slipping into the next room.

—

The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden glow over Brooklyn. The streets were quieter now, the bustle of the day giving way to the peaceful hum of evening.

 You and Bucky walked side by side, the familiar rhythm of your footsteps in sync as you made your way through the neighbourhood. It was a perfect summer evening—one of those rare moments when everything felt just right.

“You ever think about getting out of here someday?” Bucky asked suddenly, his voice soft, almost wistful.

You glanced over at him, catching the way the fading sunlight highlighted the sharp lines of his jaw, the warmth in his blue eyes. “You mean leaving Brooklyn? Or the Avengers”

“All of it, you know, see what’s out there.” He shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Paris, London… maybe somewhere quiet, like the countryside. Just to get away from everything for a while.”

You smiled at the thought, imagining Bucky wandering through cobblestone streets in some far-off city, looking as effortlessly charming as ever. “Sounds nice,” you said. “But I can’t really picture you as a farm boy, Barnes.”

He chuckled, the sound low and rich, and you felt a warmth spread through your chest. “I think i’d manage. But what about you? If you could go anywhere, where would it be?”

You tilted your head, considering the question. “I don’t know… Somewhere peaceful, I guess. But it’s not really about the place. It’s more about who you’re with, you know?”

His gaze softened as he looked at you, and for a moment, it felt like the whole world had quieted down, leaving just the two of you in that golden light. “Yeah,” he murmured, “I know.”

There was a comfortable silence as you continued walking, the air between you filled with unspoken words. The truth lingered there, close enough to touch but never quite reaching the surface.

 You wanted to tell him—wanted to say that wherever he went, you’d follow. That he was the person you’d want to see the world with, whether it was Paris or a tiny farmhouse in the middle of nowhere.

But instead, you nudged him playfully with your shoulder. “You’d probably miss the city too much anyway. Can’t imagine you without your favourite diner.”

Bucky laughed, the tension easing as he bumped you back. “True, Can’t beat their apple pie.”

“See? You’re a city boy through and through.”

“Maybe,” he said, grinning at you. “But I’d trade it all for the right company.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and for a split second, you thought about what it would mean to just say it—to tell him how you felt, how you’d always felt. But then he looked away, his gaze drifting to the horizon, and the moment passed.

“Let’s head back,” he said after a while, his voice light but his eyes carrying a weight that matched your own.

You nodded, falling back into step beside him. The walk home was filled with easy conversation, the kind that flowed naturally between you. But beneath the laughter and the teasing, there was something deeper—a connection that went unspoken, yet was understood by both of you. Neither of you admitted your feelings that day, but in your hearts, you knew. It was simple….

Some things didn’t need words. 

—

That’s when things went sideways. The comms tower was in sight when a sudden explosion rocked the building. The lights flickered, and the walls trembled as debris rained down. You barely had time to react before the hallway filled with Hydra agents, weapons drawn.

“Ambush!” Bucky shouted, raising his rifle and firing at the incoming agents. You ducked behind a pillar, returning fire as the room erupted into chaos.

“Of course it couldn’t be simple,” you muttered, taking out an agent before he could reach you. “Sam, Natasha, how’s it looking on your end?”

“We’ve got a few surprises too,” Natasha replied, her voice tense. “Hold your position—we’re almost done.”

“Bucky, we’ve got to take out the comms tower,” you said, glancing at him. “You hold them off, I’ll go plant the charges.”

“I’ll go with you—” Bucky began, but you shook your head.

“No, you’re better at holding a line. I’ll be quick,” you assured him, offering a small smile.

He hesitated, then nodded, his eyes locking onto yours. “Be careful, Y/N.”

“Always am,” you winked before darting down the hallway toward the tower.

You could hear the sounds of battle behind you—Bucky’s rifle, Steve’s shield clanging, Sam’s wings cutting through the air. But your focus was on the mission. You reached the comms room, planting the charges quickly, but as you were about to leave, the ceiling groaned, and you heard it—a crack, then a roar as part of the building started to give way.

“Y/N, get out of there!” Steve’s voice barked through the comms.

But it was too late. The floor beneath you crumbled, sending you crashing down into the lower levels. Pain shot through your body as you hit the ground hard, dust and rubble filling your lungs as you struggled to breathe.

“Doll? Y/N, do you copy?” Bucky’s voice crackled in your ear, frantic.

You coughed, trying to clear your throat. “I’m… I’m here,” you gasped, pain lancing through your side. “But I’m pinned… building’s coming down.”

“Hold on, sweetheart. I’m coming for you,” Bucky grunted, the desperation in his voice unmistakable “Just hold on” He repeated grunting, his voice strained as you heard him fighting his way to you. The sound of metal clashing and boots thudding echoed in the distance, each second dragging on like an eternity.

“Buck, go, go, go! That way!” Steve shouted, his voice sharp with urgency. 

You could feel it—the end. It crept up like a shadow, warm yet cold, each sensation clashing against the other like fire and ice. It was almost poetic, how the contradiction mirrored you and Bucky, two halves that made a flawed, perfect whole.

—

The Avengers compound was unusually lively that afternoon, with everyone gathered in the common room, taking a rare break from missions and training. 

Steve and Sam were engrossed in a game of chess, Natasha was flipping through a magazine, and Tony was tinkering with some gadget on the coffee table. You were perched on the edge of the couch, sipping a cup of tea, when Bucky walked in.

“Hey, doll,” Bucky said, his voice warm and smooth. He leaned casually against the doorframe, his eyes locking onto yours. “Miss me?”

You smirked, taking a sip of your tea. “I didn’t even notice you were gone, Barnes.”

“Oh, that’s cold,” Sam commented without looking up from the chessboard. “But you know she’s lying, right?”

Bucky just grinned, strolling over to where you sat. He took the cup from your hand, taking a sip himself before handing it back. “Well, I’m back now. What’d I miss?”

“Not much,” you replied, ignoring the way your heart fluttered when his fingers brushed against yours. “Steve’s losing to Sam, Tony’s probably breaking something, and Nat is pretending she’s not listening to us.”

Natasha looked up, raising an eyebrow “I’m not pretending.”

Bucky chuckled, sitting down next to you—closer than necessary. His arm rested casually along the back of the couch, his presence warm and solid beside you. “Well, I’m sure things were dull without me.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “If by ‘dull,’ you mean ‘peaceful,’ then yeah.”

“Oh, come on. You know you missed me, sweetheart,” he teased, his voice dropping to that low, teasing tone that always made your pulse quicken.

“Keep telling yourself that, Barnes,” you shot back, leaning in slightly. “Maybe one day you’ll believe it.”

“Y/N, just admit you missed him already,” Tony said, not even looking up from his work. “You’re not fooling anyone.”

“Who says I missed him?” you countered, your tone playful. “Maybe I just enjoy watching him trip over his own ego.”

Bucky’s grin widened, his eyes gleaming with that mischievous spark that always set your nerves on edge in the best way. “Funny, I don’t remember tripping…Must’ve been too busy thinking about you.”

Natasha snorted softly, exchanging a knowing glance with Steve, who had finally looked up from the chess game. “You two are impossible,” she muttered, shaking her head.

“More like predictable,” Steve added, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You’re not fooling anyone, you know.”

“Who’s fooling who?” Bucky asked, his tone light, but there was something more in his eyes—something that lingered just beneath the surface, unspoken. He turned back to you, his gaze softening. “I think she’s just playing hard to get.”

You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head. “Who says I’m playing at all?”

The room went silent for a moment, everyone waiting for what would happen next. You could feel the tension crackling between you and Bucky, the air thick with the things neither of you ever said out loud. But instead of pushing it further, you leaned back, breaking eye contact with a casual shrug.

“Guess we’ll never know,” you said, your tone light.

Bucky’s smirk didn’t waver, but there was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes, something only you could see. “Maybe one day.”

“Maybe,” you echoed, your voice quieter now, more sincere.

Tony sighed dramatically, throwing down his tools. “This is worse than a soap opera. Just kiss already, would you?”

“Not a chance,” you and Bucky said in unison, both of you grinning as the room erupted in groans and laughter.

But as the banter continued, as everyone got back to their own conversations, Bucky’s hand brushed yours again, lingering for just a second too long. And even though neither of you admitted it, in that brief touch, you both knew—something unspoken, something that didn’t need words.

—

“You’re my last 7 minutes,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“What? Doll, no, please, please hold on. We’re almost there,” he panted, his breath hitching in a way that broke your heart. Bucky never sounded like this—desperate, afraid. He was always the unbreakable one, the soldier who could face anything. But now, he was crumbling.

You licked your lips, your mouth dry, “After death…”

“You’re not dying!” Natasha’s voice cut through the comms, tight with fear. She thought they were almost done, thought you were almost safe, but then the ground shuddered. The building you were in groaned, and the next thing you knew, it started to collapse. Dust and debris filled the air as more agents swarmed in, but all you could think about was him.

—-

The party inside was in full swing—laughter, music, and the clinking of glasses filled the air. The warmth of the celebration radiated through the rooms, but out on the balcony, it was peaceful, quiet, and far removed from the buzz inside. The cool night air brushed against your skin as you stood with Bucky, both of you gazing out at the stars that glittered in the sky.

You had both slipped away from the crowd unnoticed, seeking a moment of calm away from the festivities. The balcony was lit by the soft glow of string lights that draped along the railing, casting a gentle light over everything. The faint sound of the music inside reached you, but it was distant, like an echo of another world.

“Pretty out here, huh?” you murmured, leaning on the railing and looking up at the sky.

Bucky nodded, his eyes following the same path as yours. “Yeah…. It’s nice to get away from it all for a bit.”

You smiled, your gaze drifting to him. He was standing close, the light catching the edges of his face, making his blue eyes stand out against the night. There was something about the way he looked just then—so at ease, so content—that made your heart swell with affection.

Before you knew it, you were speaking without thinking. “You know, you have the most beautiful eyes, Buck.”

He turned to you, slightly taken aback by the compliment. A faint blush crept up his neck, and he let out a soft chuckle, clearly unsure how to respond. “I, uh… thanks, doll. That’s sweet of you.”

You shrugged, smiling as you reached out to gently take his hand. “It’s true. They’re… they’re kind, and they hold so much. I guess I just wanted you to know.”

Bucky looked at your hand in his, then back up at you, something tender and vulnerable flickering in his eyes. He hesitated for just a moment before stepping closer, the warmth of his presence enveloping you as he looked deep into your eyes.

“Y/N, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he said quietly, his voice soft but earnest. “In all my 100 years of living… I’ve never met anyone like you.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, your heart fluttering wildly. He was so sincere, so open in that moment, that it left you speechless. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you standing there, wrapped in the magic of the night.

Without thinking, you took another step closer, your hands coming up to rest on his chest as his arms gently encircled your waist. The music from inside changed to a slower tune, one that drifted out onto the balcony, and before you knew it, Bucky was leading you in a slow, gentle dance.

The two of you swayed together, your bodies moving in perfect harmony. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, as if you’d been doing this for years. There was no need for words—everything you wanted to say was in the way he held you, the way he looked at you like you were the only person that mattered.

For a moment, you forgot about everything else. The past, the future, all of it melted away, leaving just this—this perfect, quiet moment under the stars.

It wasn’t until you heard a muffled laugh from inside that you realised you had an audience. Glancing over your shoulder, you caught sight of Steve, Natasha, and Sam standing by the glass patio doors, watching the two of you with grins on their faces. Steve gave you a thumbs-up, and Natasha winked before they all turned back to the party, leaving you and Bucky to your dance.

You laughed softly, resting your head against Bucky’s chest as you continued to sway. “I think we’ve been spotted.”

“Let ‘em watch,” Bucky murmured, his voice a low rumble against your ear. “I’m not letting go just yet.”

“We're not gonna here the end of this” 

He shook his head smiling “No were not”

And with that, you both continued dancing under the stars, lost in each other, as the world outside kept spinning.

—

“The human brain still lives for 7 minutes and plays the most beautiful memories….” You paused, struggling for breath, your vision blurring “Its you Bucky, you’re my 7 minutes…”

“Cap!” Sam’s voice crackled over the comms, strained. “We need to hurry.” But you could hear it—the death rattle in your chest, your body betraying you as the darkness closed in.

Bucky was close now. You could feel his presence, the warmth of his hands as they found yours, trembling. “Sweetheart, no, don’t do this, don’t leave me,” he pleaded, his voice breaking in a way you’d never heard before.

You wanted to say something to comfort him, to tell him you’d be okay, that you’d see him again in those last 7 minutes. But the words wouldn’t come, your strength slipping away as everything faded.

“I love you…” was all you managed before the world went quiet, his tear-filled eyes the last thing you saw.

And then there was nothing.

“Y/N… Y/N, wake up. Please,” Bucky’s voice was barely a whisper now, thick with grief. His hands clutched yours desperately, his grip tightening as if he could somehow pull you back from the edge. But you were gone—your body limp, your chest no longer rising with breath. The warmth was fading fast, leaving you cold, just like the darkness swallowing him whole.

“Bucky, we have to move!” Steve’s voice broke through the haze, but it felt distant, like he was calling from miles away.

Bucky didn’t respond. He couldn’t. His entire world had narrowed to you—your lifeless form, the bloodstains on your suit, the silent, unmoving chest that would never rise again. His mind screamed at him to do something, but his body was frozen, paralyzed by the reality crashing down around him.

“Bucky!” Steve’s shout was louder now, closer, and then he was there, grabbing Bucky by the shoulder, shaking him. “We have to go, now! The building’s coming down!”

“Not without her,” Bucky rasped, his voice shattered. He lifted you into his arms, cradling you close like a lifeline, refusing to let go. “I’m not leaving her.”

Steve’s heart twisted painfully, seeing his friend like this—so broken, so lost. But the ground was trembling beneath them, the structure ready to collapse at any moment. “We’ll get her out,” Steve promised, his voice cracking. “But we have to move.”

Bucky finally looked up, his eyes red, brimming with unshed tears. Slowly, he nodded, and together they began to move, Steve covering Bucky as they fought their way back through the crumbling building. The walls groaned ominously, and dust filled the air, but Bucky didn’t care. All he could see was you, all he could feel was the unbearable weight of loss pressing down on his chest.

The team was waiting for them at the extraction point, their faces grim as they saw you in Bucky’s arms. Natasha’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, Sam’s jaw clenched tightly, and even Steve’s stoic expression was cracked with sorrow.

“Let’s go,” Steve said quietly, signalling for the quinjet. But Bucky couldn’t tear his gaze away from you. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You were supposed to make it out, supposed to laugh about this later, supposed to be okay. You weren’t supposed to be dead in his arms.

The flight back was silent. No one spoke, the air thick with unspoken grief. Bucky sat motionless, his hand still gripping yours, his head bowed low. He didn’t let go even when they landed, didn’t let go even as they gently tried to take you from him. It wasn’t until Steve knelt in front of him, placing a hand on his shoulder, that Bucky finally released you, his eyes hollow, staring into nothing.

“You loved her,” Steve said softly, though it wasn’t a question.

Bucky’s voice was barely audible, a broken whisper. “She was everything, Steve.”

Steve’s hand tightened on his shoulder, offering silent comfort, but Bucky couldn’t feel it. All he felt was the emptiness, the unbearable ache that filled the space where you used to be.

And in that moment, he knew he would never be whole again.

[jymwahuwu]

-cw: yandere, non-con, forced overstimulation, harassment, breaking into your home

The actual record of dating General Jing Yuan:

(everything below is automatically recorded by the system set up by the general)

4:00 am Jing Yuan pointed out that you will have a date today.

4:00 am You are woken up by the sound of a message.

4:01 am You frowned, checked the message, and replied "wtf it's bedtime".

4:05 am You fell asleep again.

9:45 am Had breakfast.

10:00 am The electronic door lock automatically opened. Jing Yuan stepped in with a "^_^" expression.

10:01 am You: “Can you stop breaking into my house all the time?”

10:02 am Showed you that message. You are speechless.

11:00 am The romantic date begins!!

11:15 am Visited the Space Animal Sanctuary and watched the adorable and special animals together.

11:20 am the baby bird trembled and walked towards Jing Yuan and pecked the back of his hand with its beak. You think nothing can be cuter than this.

11:45 am you curiously fed the sheep that could predict the future destiny of life. This animal looks like a sheep.

11:46 am A 💭 floated out of the sheep’s head:

Love Trend: Dating the one who likes you will guarantee your eternal relationship.

11:47 am You are shocked. Jing Yuan chuckled and stroked the sheep's head.

12:15 pm Jing Yuan purchased two commemorative keychains. He said the two keychains commemorated the romantic date.

12:16 pm Jing Yuan attached one of the keychains to your backpack/bag, etc.

13:00 pm Had a romantic date in a restaurant with a view of the Milky Way.

14:02 pm Jing Yuan offered to go home and fuck you, using an affectionate tone. Your fingers holding the door were pried open one by one, and you were pulled onto the spaceship.

15:12 pm Back to your apartment!! Jing Yuan kissed you and put you on his arm with one hand, burning off the calories from the meal just now.

15:20 pm You were forced to spread your legs on the sofa, and Jing Yuan buried his head between your legs, or twitched with his fingers, and occasionally said something embarrassing to you. You pushed his hair.

16:05 pm You can’t remember how many times you’ve had an orgasm. Consciousness began to drift away.

17:00 pm Lubricate the cock head with the petals, teasing you on the outside for five minutes before hitting bottom. "Ah…!! ❤"

18:15 pm You start to think about why Jing Yuan’s staying power is so terrible. Is this the secret of long-life species?

19:00 pm You're lying on the bed, panting, tongue sticking out. The fertile semen inside flowed out like a quiet stream.

19:01 pm Jing Yuan resisted the urge to lift your legs and thrust into you again. Look at your lovely face.

19:04 pm Conclusion: Your cuteness transcends the laws of the world.

19:10 pm Kissed you on the cheek, put one of his hands on your breasts, and hugged you to sleep naked.

[drabblesandimagines]

Elevation

Leon Kennedy x female reader More of my fluffy nonsense

Hunnigan slams the phone down into the cradle at the end of her call and if you hadn’t already been casting auspicious glances up at the scene before you, her actions would’ve made you jump.

“What is it, Leon?” Hunnigan’s tone is blunt.

It would be so easy to look up at the handsome DSO agent then. You’d be perfectly within your right to look up too, your desk opposite sat directly opposite Hunnigan’s so you had ring-side side seats to the commotion. It wouldn’t look odd - he’d be in your eyeline, after all - but you fight the temptation, keeping your eyes fixed on the paper in front of you, fingers tapping idly away over the keyboard as you transpose to the screen.

Exactly what you’ve been doing the past ten minutes that Leon Kennedy has been wandering around the office, dressed in a pair of form-fitting jeans today, his gun holster peeking out from underneath a beloved leather jacket, directing all attention to a certain pair of assets.

Not that you were keeping track of how long he’d been there, of course, you had work to do.

“Huh?” For someone who had apparently been waiting on her call finishing, Leon’s thoughts seems elsewhere.

“I said,” Hunnigan adjusts her tone, “can I help you with something?”

“Does there have to be something? Surely a guy can just come visit his favourite FOS agent.”

“But you haven’t come to visit, you’ve come to loiter.” Hunnigan retorts. “I told you already, if I have anything for you, I will be in contact. Go home.”

There’s an incredulous scoff as he tries to think of a reason to stay, but it quickly transforms into a sigh as he admits defeat. “Fine.”

He begins his retreat towards the exit and you hear the tell-tale beep of his pass against by the door panel, the electronic lock then clunking in release.

“Have a good afternoon, ladies.”

You look up then – and only then - to find him looking directly at you. You give him a polite smile in return. “You too.”

He grins in return, a proper one that makes his eyes crease, before giving you a nod and a wave as he through the door. The smile stays on your lips as you reach for your mug of coffee – now ice cold - and take a sip.

“I think he likes you, you know?” Hunnigan states in her oh-so-nonchalantly way, making you choke on the gulp you’d just taken.

“What? No…! I mean, who?” Your voice is tight in response from having swallowed the liquid the wrong way, internally cursing. Smooth, real smooth.

“Leon.” The agent continues hammering away at her keyboard, kindly ignoring your attempts at being subtle.

“I don’t know where you’ve drawn that conclusion from.” You don’t – you really don’t. You could probably count the amount of conversations the two of you have had with all of your fingers, all just pleasantries.

“I’ve worked with him for years now and he’s never been here as much since your transfer started.”

“Coincidence, I’m sure. He just seems eager for work.”

Hunnigan goes to open her mouth in response when, thankfully, the phone on her desk rings. Saved by the bell.

--

Being afraid of elevators had never really been an issue until you had taken this assignment, being sent to work on the 12th floor. At the very least it’s proving to be a good workout the number of times a day you now trudge up and down the stairwell from your desk to the archives below. The DSO holds a surprising amount of paper copies of intel in the basement – both handwritten and old typewriter documents - secured behind a vault door, rumours of the place being rigged to ignite in flames if an intruder is detected to prevent it all from falling into the wrong hands.

The DSO board had decided that intel should now be stored in the government-secured cloud and on paper and you’d been brought in as an archivist/analyst hybrid, on loan from the CIA. The project you’d been tasked with, single-handedly, was transferring intel that was currently only held in those paper copies to the online system. There was technology that could do but it wasn’t perfect – scrawled handwriting would often prove indecipherable by most machines or it misread words, so everything would need quality checked. It was agreed a human touch was best and your name had come up after the CIA had undertaken a similar audit of their files a few years ago to excellent results. Once everything had been digitized, it had become easier to quickly identify any links between incidents past and present – using surnames, terms, intel – and even stopped a handful of potential ones, so the DSO had been keen to put the practice in place.

It did mean, however, that every day you’d go down to the vault, select a box of paperwork – either the one you’ve got partway through or a whole new one - trudge back up the many flights of stairs, and then start typing from page to screen to produce a digitized document. It was imperative that no-one else see the documents, so they’d set you up in Hunnigan’s office as one of their most trusted agents.

Wanting to look professional whilst in the office but not break your neck on the stairs, you kept a selection of heels in your locker to swap out of for your reliable sneakers. Hunnigan was still working away when you packed up around 7pm, kicking off your heels to switch out, and had been in a lengthy, hushed tone call for the past hour. You nodded your head as you heaved the box of documents up in your arms, and she waved back in acknowledgement.

Beeping your ID card at the door, the lock buzzed and the door opened automatically – a godsend as the box you had today was particularly heavy – everything within held in those awful arch-lever folders.

As you emerged, you heard the puff of the elevator doors beginning to slide shut, not even giving it a moment of thought. You turned to the left to head down the stairs as usual, when a gloved hand slammed between the elevator doors, preventing them from closing with a thud and giving you a start, turning to see a face.

The face of Leon S Kennedy catches you entirely by surprise. He hadn’t even been by the office today to bother Hunnigan, though you know he does have his own desk somewhere in the building, maybe even his own office. He smiles at the sight of you, beckoning you over.

“Hey. Hop on in - I’m going down.”

You hesitate at the invitation. You haven’t been in an elevator for years and he’s just stood there, waiting, holding the door open. You have to say or do something. “You okay?”

Next thing you know, as if you’d been hypnotized, you were walking towards the elevator, then stepping over the threshold into a place you swore you never would enter again.

“Basement?” Leon fingers hover over the button panel in anticipation.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

He presses the buttons for ground and basement simultaneously with two fingers, and the door slides shut with another puff of air.

The elevator and your stomach begin to descend in unison.

This is fine.

“Looks heavy. Can I…?” He gestures to the box, offering to take it.

“Oh, thanks, but it’s okay.” You bump the box up with your knee, trying to strengthen your grip on it. Your palms are sweaty, but you’re not sure if the cause is the elevator or the handsome man besides you.

Leon crosses his arms, leans back against the wall. “They still not given you a lackey to do all the grunt work? I thought that’s what they took on interns for these days.”

“It’s difficult when no-one else is meant to handle it, let alone see it but me.” Leon gives you a quizzical look at that. “It’s protocol, narrows down the potential for leaks. If anything gets out, it’s on my head, so…”

“What about when you take breaks? You don’t…”

You nod, shifting the box in your arms again. Why do they feel like jelly? “Gotta lug it back downstairs to be locked back in the vault.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Mm-mm. It’s fine – good exercise for me, I guess, between sitting at the desk all day, so…”

“Surely they could at least give you a desk closer to the grou-“

The elevator’s smooth descent is transformed into a shudder, followed by a loud metallic screech and a sharp jerk that makes your stomach truly drop before all motion halts. No, no, no, no.

“Huh.” Leon muses, calm as anything. He immediately presses the emergency call button, illuminated in red, but the only sound that emits out of the speakers is static. He presses it again to the same result, and then in rapid succession, as if that’ll coerce it into working.

You tighten your grip on the box, wanting to tell him to stop but, thankfully, he gives up before you can have the strength to find your voice and pulls his cell out from his pocket.

“Damn, no reception.” He looks back over to you then with a sympathetic smile. “Well, this is one way to get overtime outta us, hey?”

There’s no chance to reply before the elevator plunges into darkness and you drop the box immediately, thankfully away from your feet. It can only be a few seconds at the most but it feels like an eternity before the emergency lighting comes on, casting the small metal prison in a pale yellow hue.

Leon’s staring at you, looking concerned. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah.” You reply, not at all convincingly. You bend down to pick up the box to escape that blue-eyed gaze for a moment, heaving it back up in your arms. “Is this… normal for this office?” You hope he can’t hear how tight your voice is.

“Power must be down, seems like the back-up generator kicked in.” The agent shrugs, looking around the elevator as if something of use might be around. “It’ll prioritize the critical systems – so I’d guess lights, vending machines and elevators are not gonna be particularly high up on that list.”

“Wonderful.” You reply, breathily. It’s warm. Should it be warm? “Here, let me just…” Leon reaches over and gently tugs the box from your weak grip, no sign of surprise at the weight of it as he takes it. “We don’t know how long we’ll be in here, so let’s put this down.”

“No, I shou-“

“I promise I’m not going to try and read any of it.”

You watch him as he places it down, he’s sure to bend with his knees rather than his back, and tucks it into the corner under the button panel, out of the way. He stands back up to his full height, looking at you for a response, but all you manage is a shaky nod.

“Are you feeling okay?” “Y-yeah. Fine.” “Mm. Not a great liar.” He tilts his head, scanning you with his eyes once more. “What’s the matter?”   “I…” Another swallow in the hopes of your mouth not feeling so dry. “I don’t like elevators. Always take the stairs.” “Oh.” Not the answer he was expecting it seems. “Wait, why’d you get in, then?” “Well, er…” You hesitate again, how do you answer that? “You… You told me to.”

He can’t help the goofy smile that crosses his face. “Huh, that’s all it takes? Interesting. I’ll have to remember that.”

You’re about to ask him what that’s supposed to mean, the words just on the tip of your tongue when the elevator jerks and they turn into a shriek. It’s over before it even begins, really, but Leon’s reflexes now have you pressed up against the wall, his arms braced above your head to protect it from any sort of impact.

“It’s all right,” he says, softly. “I’m here, I’ve got you.”

Your heart is beating too fast, tears burn at your eyes at the fright. He’s so close, you can smell his cologne – musky, hints of vanilla – but this isn’t where you want to be having this moment.

“How about we sit down, huh?”

“I’m okay.” Your answer is breathy again, your chest feeling tight. Panting like you’d finished climbing up 12 flights of stairs.

“It’ll be more comfortable.”

“Don’t wanna…” You try and take a deep inhale, but it doesn’t seem to reach the bottom of your lungs. “Don’t wanna s-shake it.”

“You won’t.” He drops his arms from against the wall and instead grabs your hand, squeezes it in an attempt to ground you. “Trust me.”

You want to trust him, but the panic is too strong. This was such a bad idea, why did you do this?

“I…”

“We’ll do it together, okay?” He somehow coaxes you to shuffle forward and then slips in behind you, taking hold of your other hand. “Just lean against me and we’ll ease on down.”

Leon presses his chest firmly up against your back and you wonder if he can feel how hard your heart is beating. He wraps his arms around your waist next, meaning you’re hugging yourself in a way before he slides down against the elevator wall, bringing you down with him, onto the carpeted elevator floor. He thought it was a seamless maneuverer, but the way he’d felt your nails dig into his leather gloves from how tight your grip was, he knew you weren’t of the same opinion.

“There we go.” His thighs are spread either side of yours, now that you’re nestled inbetween his legs. “Worried you were gonna pass out – you’d gone really pale. Just sit here and concentrate on your breathing a minute, okay? Feel how I’m doing it.”

You close your eyes and try to concentrate on how he’s breathing, feeling his chest expand as he inhales, loudly and deliberately through his nose, holds the breath, then exhales heavily through his mouth, tickling the back of your neck.

You try and mimic him, get your inhales and exhales in sync and, slowly, the pressure begins to ease in your chest as you feel your breaths get deeper and deeper.

"Feeling a little better?”

His voice reverberates from his chest being pressed up against your back, feels comforting. “Yeah. Thank you.”

“Hey, don’t mention it. My fault you’re in here, after all.” He replies, gently. “I’m gonna move now, okay? Wanna check you’ve got the colour back in your cheeks.”

You nod, and he somehow manages to shuffle back and to the front of you with overly cautious movements – definitely for your benefit, ever the gentleman - withdrawing his legs into a crossed position and giving you a smile as he takes in your appearance. Being so fixed in his gaze makes your cheeks prickle with heat – maybe not the colour he’d hoped to be checking.

“Yeah, you’re looking better. Good.” He nods in affirmation, more to himself than you. “That noise – I think someone was trying to get the power back on, sounds like it only worked for a second before it could get going. The elevator’s not gonna fall.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve had to disable some of them before – for work, I mean. They’re all equipped with multiple failsafe systems to prevent that exact scenario.”

“Disable them?”

“Just so they stop…” He gestures in a circle as he tries to find the words, “elevating, I guess, so I’m not pursued. Make ‘em take the stairs.”

“Ah, right.” You nod. “Wind them a bit.”

“Exactly. If you don’t mind me asking, you always been afraid of them?”

“No. Got stuck in one in an old apartment block years ago – it didn’t feel particularly modern. There were three of us – me and two drunk guys who kept jumping up and down, convinced that would make it move. The fire department got us out after two hours cos I had one of those… episodes. Haven’t been in one since.”

“Idiots.”

“They just kept laughing the more panicked I got. I felt so stupid.”

“Panic attacks are no joke. That box breathing always helps me if I feel on edge, though.”

“Yeah, that was really good.” You feel a shy smile creep over your face. “If I had to get suck in an elevator with anyone, I’m glad it was you.”

He practically beams. “Now I don’t feel quite so bad. I’ve gotta ask again though, you really got in here just because I said to?” He’s already seen you a panicking mess, so why not just be honest? “Your smile helped too.” “Well, consider me flattered.”

“It’s a nice smile…” You swallow, a little cautious of the next word. “Enticing.”

You swear you see a smidge of colour flush Leon’s cheeks then, but it must be a trick of the artificial lights. “Well, since we’re confessing – yours is too. That’s the real reason I was bothering Hunnigan. Wanted to see if I could win another.”

“You came to see me smile?” You’re definitely blushing now – cheeks prickling with the heat.

“Guilty. I don’t think you’d remember, but a week or so back I was having a real shitty day. Went to go debrief with Hunnigan and she wasn’t there, but you were. When I stormed in, you just gave me the best and most genuine smile I’d seen in days. Meant a lot.” He rubs the back of his neck, sheepishly.

You smile again, can’t help it, and he groans, jokingly. “Ugh, see? Not again – I don’t think my heart can take how sweet it is.”

You don’t know what to say to that but you’re excused when, suddenly, the lights transition overhead with a flicker from the emergency dulled tones to the standard, harsh fluorescent light and the elevator begins its smooth descent once more.

“Finally, huh?” Leon gets up easily to his feet and then offers you a hand.

“Yeah.” You accept it without hesitation, goosebumps prickling up your arm as he wraps his fingers around your hand and he pulls you up with ease. Slyly, his other hand now rests on the small of your back, drawing you in close…

The elevator dings, announcing its arrival on the ground floor and the doors slide open to reveal a maintenance worker, clad in blue overalls, waiting in the lobby. Leon draws back then, but still keeps his hand steady on your back.

“You two all right? Power-cut had rotten timing, I was gonna repair that emergency speaker tonight when most of the office was cleared out.”

“All good, thanks.” Leon bends down, picks up the box again without question and you follow him out of the elevator in pursuit, only to hear a cell begin to ring from his pocket. He balances the box with one arm – you’ve no idea how – and pulls out the device, frowning at the name on screen.

“Sorry, I’ve really gotta take this.” His brows furrow in annoyance. “You be okay with taking that downstairs?”

“Yeah, of course. I really should take it back now anyway, you know, just in case…” You trail off as he eases the box over to you, making sure you’ve got it properly before he lets go. “Thanks… for everything.”

“Pleasure was all mine.” He replies, sincerely, before reluctantly lifting the cell up to his ear.

“Kennedy.”

You leave him to his phone-call and head down the stairs for a thankfully unremarkable trip down to the vaults to replace the box back in its rightful place. It’d be a lie to say when you climbed back up to the lobby that you weren’t disappointed when there’s no trace of him to be found.

--

The next morning, after passing through the security check, you make your way down to the archive vault as usual, pressing your hand against the door panel to gain access. Sadly, you’ve still got a lot of work to do in the box you’d been working on yesterday, so you dutifully log its withdrawal in the computer system, and heave it up once more in your arms before heading out.

You only make it up one flight of stairs when you see him, leaned up against the stairway wall, one arm held against his chest whilst his other hand is holding his cell, squinting at some text. He looks up as you scuff your trainer on one of the steps and he smiles as you reach him, tucking his cell back away.

“Good morning.”

“Morning. What brings you here?” You curse inwardly. “I mean, not that it’s not a pleasant surprise, just…”

He waves it off. “I getcha. Well, I have some pretty good sway here, you know, so I’ve volunteered.”

“Volunteered for what?”

“Volunteered…” He steps forward and wraps his arms around the box, “..to be your stairs lackey.”

“Oh, no – it’s fine, honestly.” You feel flustered at the very idea. Leon’s one of the top, if not the top agent of the DSO. He can’t be doing manual labour for you, he shouldn’t. “You have so many better things to be doing. I can mana…”

“Please?” He tilts his head, gives you that enticing smile again. “I mean, I could just tell you,” – he teases – “but I thought I’d ask this time, so you’re sure.”

The smile makes you feel weak at the knees and you’d already proven yesterday you couldn’t resist its magic. “Okay. But you should definitely take the elevator then.”

“Uh-uh.” He shakes his head, taking the box into his arms. “It’s good cardio, got my weight-resistance. You’re practically doing me a favour by taking the stairs.”

“Is that so?”

“Mm-hm. Though,” he bites his lip in a pause, “I may have ulterior motives.”

“Right, and what would those be?”

“If I were to, say, visit the office around six tonight and carry this thing back down to the vault, maybe you’d go to dinner with me?”

God, you feel absolutely giddy - there’s no way you can hold back your smile. “I think that’s… acceptable.”

“Then we have a deal. Ladies first,” he nods with his head to up the stairwell.

“No, I… I think you should go first. Just so I can keep an eye on you on the way up. I’ve got to make sure you’re not sneaking a peek at the assets, you know?”

He quirks an eyebrow, you know he’s wondering what you’re thinking, but he shrugs it off all the same. “As you wish.”

And as you follow him up 12 flights of stairs, you slightly breathless and him seemingly fine, you can’t help but sneak a look at a different pair of assets before you.

---

Comments, likes and reblogs make my whole day x

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi/Commissions

[techcomengineering]

How Digital Door Access Systems Can Improve Workplace Safety?

In today’s fast-paced world, technology has revolutionized the way we work and interact with our surroundings. One area that has seen significant improvements is workplace safety, with digital door access systems playing a critical role in enhancing safety and security. Enhanced Security Traditional lock and key systems are easy to manipulate, and anyone with access can easily duplicate a key.…

[smartsafetyindia]

🌟 Dussehra Special Offer! 🌟 Celebrate the festival of Dussehra with our exclusive offer on All Products ❗ Get 10% discount on All products till 24th Oct 2023. 👉Call Now For Enquiry ☎9205009768 Visit:- https://www.smartsafetyindia.in

[livingforthewhump]

could you pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaassseeeeeee continue the villain tortured livestreamed thing??

sequel to this

—

Hero surveyed their team, ensuring everything was properly in place. Of course, they’d already checked a dozen different times, but there wasn’t much else to do with their anxiety other than put it to good use. There was one area, probably the most important, that they lacked the expertise to check well.

“Medic?” They asked, trying not to let their anxiety seep into their words. They knew Villain would be in desperate need of medical care. How could they not know? After all, Supervillain had gone to great lengths to make them all aware of that fact. Hero was frustrated beyond all words that the thing Villain would need the most was not something they could provide them. Hero was terrible with anything to do with health, which was really a large part of the reason why they had been elected the leader. Process of elimination: they simply weren’t good at anything else.

Medic raised an eyebrow. “Everything is ready, Hero. Including you. You should sit down; You’re going to wear yourself down before you’re even out on the field.”

A shake of their head. “Can’t. Hacker is going to send the signal any moment now, and I need to be ready.”

And just like clockwork, a steady pinging noise hit Hero’s wristband, letting them know that the blackout of Supervillain’s cameras was about to begin. Hero was on the move instantly, hopping lightly out of the back of their camouflaged van with just a jerk of their head to tell Teammate to follow. As they walked they powered off their wristband. Their earpiece was left behind in the van—the electronic blackout was total, and any technology used by them would be like a foghorn in a cathedral: utterly out of place and infinitely noticeable. They knew without looking that Teammate was copying them.

The plan was simple: Hacker had gotten into their camera system from the van, locating where Villain was being held and copying down a map to it. They needed more controls to do a full camera blackout, so they froze a few frames in the security system while they went ahead of the company and took control of the security room. From there they would orchestrate a blackout that would last approximately ten minutes before someone noticed and fixed it. In the meantime they would be loading Supervillain’s files onto their own computer while Hero and Teammate went to get Villain. Five minutes in, five minutes out.

And the clock was already ticking.

The door creaked open in front of Hero, the lock having been disabled by Hacker just moments before. Without sparing more than a glance around to make sure no one was waiting in ambush, Hero took off at a sprint down the hall. The door they’d entered through was on a lower level equivalent to a basement, they supposed. Supervillain’s base was built on a slope, allowing for easy access to several different levels.

Hero hooked turns and opened doors without any hesitation. They had studied the map Hacker had made for them so many times they were certain they wouldn’t forget it as long as they’d lived. Without knowing what state Villain was in and if they were going to have to carry them out, Hero wanted as much of their time to be budgeted for their exit as possible. Teammate’s footsteps thudded just behind them, constant and reassuring.

Once they got to the door that Hero knew was Villain’s, they skidded to a halt. No one had intercepted them on their way in, which was ideal, but…unrealistic. They knew they had to be prepared for a trap. Hero took a split second to catch their breath and toss a look over their shoulder to Teammate, who gave a nod and pulled out their weapon, holding it at the ready.

Hero pulled a small kit out of their pocket, slotting a tiny explosive into the space between the door and the frame just over where the doorknob was. A small press of a button and a cautious step back later, a tiny explosion of various acids and chemicals corroded and broke through the lock much faster than Hero could have. Hero pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The room was easily recognizable as the one the ransom video had been recorded in. The concrete walls were the same, the same chair was set up in the center with knotted rope neatly coiled in its seat as though it were just waiting to be used again, even the camera was still set up on a tall tripod a few feet away from the chair. One wall was covered in knNives and grotesque tools for torture. Dark blood puddled on the floor, some dried and flaky, and some still pooling in the grim light.

In the opposite corner huddled a small form—Villain. They were not easily recognizable as the same one in the ransom video, the same one who came to Hero with a defiant scheme to take down Supervillain and spent late nights researching and planning and brought them coffee in the morning when neither of them had slept. No. This couldn’t be the same one.

But it was.

Their hair was lanky, falling over their face and hiding their eyes in shadow. Or maybe it was just bruising so dark that Hero couldn’t tell the difference. Their knees were tucked up to their bare chest protectively, arms wrapped around their legs and face buried down. Even from here Hero was struck by how loosely their pants hung, how scrawny and thin their arms looked compared to how they used to be. Slightly bloodied cuffs were holding their wrists together, and their arms were covered in mottling bruises and purposeful cuts and what looked like cigarette burns. Hero took a step forward, trying to shake themself out of their horrified stupor, and the small figure that they knew was Villain cowered back, eyes flicking up to them. Hero couldn’t see their eyes well enough to tell if there was any recognition or hope in them, or just fear.

They crossed the room quickly so they could kneel down next to Villain.

“Villain, it’s me, Hero,” they said quietly, eyes moving over Villain’s form without thinking. “You look awful.” Apparently their mouth also moved without thinking.

It was true, though. Up close, even more so. Now Hero could see that some of the cuts on their arms spelled out words, crudely carved into the captive villain.

“Are you here to break me out?” Villain’s voice came out hoarsely like they hadn’t used it properly in weeks. Still, there was a sardonic edge to their voice, a slight glint in their eyes telling Hero to stay focused and remember their mission. Hero was in awe of that strength that remained after they had been put through all hell.

“Of course,” Hero scoffed. It should have been obvious.

Villain’s face darkened. “But…Youngest. Supervillain said—”

“Can you walk?” Hero interrupted.

“Um,” Villain hummed noncommittally, face screwing up while they shifted their legs. They tried to stifle a whimper in their throat, but Hero heard it loud and clear. “Supervillain kind of, um. Broke my leg with a mallet?”

“They what?” Hero hissed, rage spiking red through their vision. They took a long, controlled breath. “Okay. I can carry you. We just need to get out of here.”

Without waiting another second they scooped their arms underneath Villain and stood. They were much lighter than they should have been. They tried their best to ignore that and just start walking. Hero met Teammate’s eyes as they exited the God-forsaken room with Villain in tow. Teammate’s face was blank, but there was a tightness around their eyes and mouth that spoke volumes to Hero about just how bad Villain looked now that they weren’t folded over themself against a wall.

Villain’s bound arms now lay demurely over their lap, by Hero’s chest. This close, it was hard not to look at the words etched into them with a lazy and sadistic hand.

Coward.

Traitor.

Mutt.

Hero swallowed bile and started jogging. Villain cried out under their breath at the jostling it required, but Hero just went faster. If they didn’t get out of there they couldn’t promise that they weren’t going to turn around and find Supervillain just so they could make them pay for each one of those marks.

They didn’t remember getting back to the van, but suddenly they were there, and Teammate and Medic were lifting Villain from Hero’s arms and onto a small gurney strapped in place in the back of the van. It was a slightly makeshift setup.

Hero made themself climb into the van just so they could get closer to Villain, to make sure they were okay. Medic had them laying down and was cutting through their pants so they could get to the broken bone to set it. Villain’s head tilted wearily to the side, seeking out Hero. Their hand reached out and Hero caught it easily, letting them squeeze while Medic reset the bone. Before Villain’s yell had even died down, Hacker had the engine revved and was driving away.

Villain was passed completely out by the time they reached their base, and Hero wasn’t far from it. They insisted they carry Villain inside, now swathed in bandages and cleaned as best as they could manage with the supplies they’d brought. They were frightfully thin, ribs poking out like knuckles through their battered skin. A deep red burn slashed down their chest, drawing attention to the bright and inflamed skin around it compared to the ombre of bruises and scabbed cuts covering them. Supervillain had even signed their name on them, like they were a damned canvas.

Time wasn’t really making sense to Hero when they set Villain down in the medwing. They noticed it was dark outside when they left the van, and the full moon was bright overhead, but they didn’t know the time. They remembered Hacker remarking something about being surprised that Youngest wasn’t waiting up for them, and the tired laughter that went around the group. They remembered the color of Villain’s skin against the clean white sheet, and the weariness in Medic’s eyes as they went to fetch their charts and IVs. They remembered being pushed into a nearby bed, but they weren’t sure who it was that pushed them there.

Then they felt sunlight hitting their eyelids as their consciousness swam back into awareness.

“How is Villain?” Hero was asking before their eyes were even fully open. Hacker sat in a seat beside Villain’s bed, computer open on their lap.

Hacker’s lips twitched slightly. “Good morning to you too. I slept great.” A beat of silence let their joke fall flat, and they sighed. “Villain’s doing fine. Malnourished and dehydrated and very weak, but stable. They still haven’t woken up. They needed the rest.” Their appraising eyes went back to Hero. “You did too. Medic made some coffee before I threatened them into going to rest. How are you feeling?”

“Fine.” Hero stood, swaying just slightly as they made their way to Medic’s office and the coffee machine on their desk. “Where’s Sidekick?”

Hacker shrugged. “I haven’t seen them. They’re probably taking advantage of having those training halls all to themself.”

“Find anything in those files yet?”

A heavy sigh filled the air with the cadence of something done many times already. “I have them loaded up, but they’re heavily encrypted, and the decoding has taken me hours. I think I just about have it, though.”

Hero had poured themself a mug and was seated in a chair opposite Hacker when they let out a triumphant shout that just about made Hero spill their coffee.

“I got it!” Hacker grinned, gesturing Hero over. Before they even got to Hacker’s side, their smile was dropping. The only folder on the drive was one titled “I hope you enjoy your trade :)”

Hero’s stomach dropped. The file was filled with pictures and videos of Villain, during their captivity, displaying in horrible detail everything that was done to them.

Except, at the very end, was a link.

Hacker clicked it, fearing the worst.

Youngest’s teary face filled the screen.

—

hero/villain taglist (and those who wanted to be tagged in the continuation): @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @twistedcaretaker @lonesome--hunter @poppys-writing @endless-whump @multifandoms-multishipper @shadowylemon @utopian819 @whumpkitty @journey-the-panda @freefallingup13 @prettyboysinpain @1becky1 @temporary-whump-sideblog @chartreusephoenix @thelazywitchphotographer @onestopheroxvillain @smolxhero @mylifeisonthebookshelf @broadwaybabe18 @grizzlie70 @sunflower1000 @digitalart-dwa @tobeornottobeateacher @wolfeyedwitch @canigetanamenforbritney @ladygwennn @onlywhump @suspicious-whumping-egg @classicplesiosaur @lemongrass404 @defectiveangel13 @alainayumira @spiccykels @jadeocean46910 @icarusinstatic @will-ruadh @pumpkin-spice-whump @michelleswhumpyreblogs @cyberneticfire @tinyreadinglifelight @savagelysarcasticsilence @void-fireworks @dead-whispers @strawberryglitterball @writing-with-olive @rose-pinkie @didieatyourdog @corvid-voidbur @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @princess-poopsicle @hollowgast1 @naturallyathief @equestrianwritingsstuff @yells-in-lowercase @antmeisteronion @ace-caz

[jades-typurriter]

Cache Clearing

A piece I did in a bit of a frenzy after working with (you guessed it) Bowsiosaurus on the design for a new OC: meet Posie!! The thought process here was literally, like, no sooner than we decided on "make a Renamon" i was like "hey what if she ate a bunch of data", so, I hope you enjoy it as much as she seemed to =^w^=

CW: Weight gain, tummy/breast expansion, stern office woman is so full from Information yum

A tall, stately fox moved down the drab, linoleum-and-drop-tile maintenance corridor with the same grace, the same level and unerring gait, that one of her four-legged, flesh-and-bone counterparts might display while stalking prey through the underbrush. Though her feet ended in points, modeled as a smooth taper from her knee to a single vertex apiece, the clack of high heels echoed down the empty hallway with each step. Her purpose was singular, and her focus undivided.

She was a Renamon who had adapted to a digital landscape that was as predictable as it was unforgiving; while her predecessors were more suited to the wild west of the adolescent internet, all the precision and discipline that they dedicated to roughhousing instead allowed her to operate within the razor-thin margins of error of the corporate world. She kept things running, and that was exactly what she made her way to the server room to do now.

She waved a paw over the electronic lock on the door, an uncannily smooth, mechanical motion, made with the other paw primly held behind her ramrod-straight back. It was a far cry from the jerky, stiff displays one might expect from a physical construct, though the knob turned under her touch as though she was solid as steel. As it swung closed behind her, she approached the subject of her attention for her next task: server rack B-0, a cabinet of solid-state drives stacked even higher than she was, each loaded to the brim with trade secrets, proprietary information, logs of confidential exchanges, schematics, financial records. All of it was outdated. She had been sent by the management to ensure that it was properly deleted.

Her lip curled into a sneer at the thought. Data disposal was so… undignified. It was beneath a woman of her stature. She had thoroughly demonstrated her particular capabilities: the multitasking necessary direct intra-system traffic in real time, reducing latency; her knack for optimizing data for the most efficient storage; she had even taken the initiative to create financial projections from the figures under her care. And still they expected her to perform a task so crude that any program picked up on a shovelware site could handle it without complication! She huffed, her eyes narrowed into her typical glare, as though she wished she could melt the damned server with the infrared beams she would otherwise use to communicate with it.

Nonetheless, there was no use putting it off any longer. The 2.6 seconds she had spent ruminating could have been better spent elsewhere, and she would be remiss to waste even more time. She was the Renamon assigned to maintaining the integrity of the company’s data center, and she would not shirk that duty, no matter how uncouth it was. She unlatched the wire-mesh cabinet door, reached into the rack, and removed the first drive in the array with a soft k-chk.

Closing her eyes and bracing herself with a deep breath, she brought the disk to her snout, opened her mouth, and moved as though to take a bite out of it. Her pointed, polygonal teeth passed harmlessly through the metal, phasing as she could through any of the other surfaces in the building (though she made a point of logging her activities by using her credentials at doors, like any other employee). The data on the two plates within, however, were far from unscathed—bits parted like the muscle fibers in a succulent cut of steak, zeroed out as she pulled the drive from between her lips, swallowing the information once contained within.

She let out an almost-gasp—Pahhh!—like she was trying not to gag. It wasn’t that the data were unpalatable. Far from it; she could, begrudgingly, understand why her wild cousins were so apt to chew through any unsecured files they could get their paws on. It was the task itself that was distasteful: this was only the first bite of the first drive in the entire rack! She resented that her superiors seemed to think of her as a bottomless recycle bin. Besides, work of this nature came up rather infrequently. Reacclimating herself to the sensation of eating was always a touch uncomfortable.

She powered through regardless, knowing the feeling would settle as she got further underway. She brought the drive back up to her face, taking another bite further into the plate, as though she was gnawing off segments of a particularly thick chocolate bar; with her other paw, she disengaged another drive from the rack. She nibbled off the last morsel of data from the first drive and brought the second immediately to her maw; it was… more efficient to do it that way. As fast as possible. The sooner she could get all these units formatted, the better, of course.

Replacing the first, now-empty drive, she replaced it in its slot and reached for a third as she chewed on the second. On and on she went, paws working in perfect unison to maintain an unbroken chain of drives to deplete; she might have compared herself to a juggler if her cheeks weren’t already burning from the indignity. Electrons slid down her tongue—her mouth was watering more than she cared to acknowledge—and down the back of her throat. Bite. Swallow. Bite. Swallow. Replace. Switch. Bite. Swallow. Bite.

Her pace only increased as she continued. Of course it would. A computer performs better after it’s had time to warm up, after all. And, of course, she simply wanted this to be done and over with as quickly as possible. It was a mercy that she didn’t need to pay any mind to her volume controls, as far away from any other personnel as the data center was. Not that she was paying attention anyway, fully-focused on completing her task as she was. Nobody—not even herself—would notice the muffled mmphs and nnffs she made as she pressed on.

All the data on the disks had to go somewhere, and it was at this point in the process that that tended to become apparent. Beneath the fur on her chest, meticulously brushed and fastidiously fluffed, her breasts became gradually more prominent. At first, the tuft was enough to mostly obscure them—after all, so what if she seemed slightly fluffier that day?—but was soon outpaced. Electrical charges by the millions, now unmoored from their tidy array inside the drives, now sloshed into her, taking up more and more of her own storage space. In short order, the fluff was scarcely enough to cover just her cleavage.

One third of the way through the server rack, now. Still, her pace only increased, one drive in each paw.

Her thighs were already rather prodigious. They were the majority of her curves, under normal circumstances, and she took some pride in the matronly figure that she cut as a result. Now, they pressed closer and closer together beneath the skirt of fur that she sported, the conical abstractions of her lower extremities widening bite by bite (and byte by byte). They pressed further and further outward, straining the “garment” itself, pushing the hem further and further up along her legs; the circular patterns on her hips, reminiscent of loading symbols, became distorted, stretched. She would have thought it was a crude change, not unlike resizing an image file with improper scaling—if she were capable of focusing on anything other than the gigabytes upon gigabytes she was so doggedly downloading.

Well over halfway now. She was shoving storage into her maw two at a time, with both paws. If she was able to hold more drives at a time, she would have; as a matter of fact, it didn’t stop her from trying.

The largest component of her directory—her midsection—naturally took the brunt of the new load. Slowly, the soft, icy-blue fur of her tummy billowed out, first simply swelling as her stomach filled, then folding onto itself, rolls smushing down on each other under their newfound, still-growing weight. Soon enough, she found herself pressed up against the lower racks of the server, though even in her focused state, she hadn’t realized that she had stepped closer. She hadn’t moved any closer, of course, but she needed to step further back regardless: she found that she was beginning to struggle to bend over, straining against herself to reach the lowest-mounted drives in the array.

Finally, heaving for breath, she extended her paw for another drive and found none remaining that needed to be cleared. She blinked and, once she was more aware of herself, pushed down a sense of disappointment. Instead, she straightened herself (allowing the new mass to settle to a stop after the motion), dusted her skirt, and conjured a good riddance air about herself as she closed the server door once again. She could still find pride in a job well done, even if she was loathe to do the job.

As she stepped out once again into the hallway, ensuring that the door was securely closed—not that there was a single trace remaining of anything sensitive that had been stored there—she folded her hands behind her back and surprised herself with a burp that was most definitely ladylike. One paw flew to her snout as it echoed down the hallway, both in shock and to hide the near-glow of her cheeks. She glanced in either direction: mercifully, still vacant. Her shoulders slumped in relief, one of the rare occasions on which she relaxed her posture. Thankfully, nobody but her would know that she’d had to do one of her dirtier jobs today. She set off back the way she had came, her footsteps now playing at maximum volume—not even a clack anymore as much as a clomp.

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it =^w^= If you'd like to see more of my writing, have a look here and here!

[braisedhoney]

[SCENARIO CONTINUED FROM HERE.]

You select the second oldest of the available files. An observation log — COLONY keeps these, or so you assume. He never leaves commentary or notes to organize them. He probably just memorizes them instead. The terminal beeps beneath your fingertips, every click practically a gunshot in the quiet room. Thanks to your pass you are technically permitted to be here by the system — but you know better. There are security measures here that were not to be violated. If you are discovered, if THIS is discovered, you would likely be in trouble. The screen loads. Text fills the margins. After a moment, you realize that it is not just a file; it’s a transcript and an audio sample. There’s also a small attachment of some kind, likely an image. You play the audio.

[LOADING. . . (A short period of complete silence. Then, rustling as footsteps approach, and the familiar whir of a door. A familiar voice fades in with them.) “… I told you, it isn’t going to work.” “So you’ve said, Captain.” (The door whirs again. Locks.) “Please don’t call me that. Everyone keeps calling me that. Really I mean, I don’t even know what to do with…” (The sound of movement. Footsteps, slightly heavier but more measured than the first. The sound of something opening with a mechanical hiss — a containment unit?) (A quiet sigh. It’s barely audible.) “That… isn’t what I think. Right? Another one?” (A chuckle.) “Don’t sound so unenthusiastic. It’s terrible for morale.” “Le—“ “Just put them on, won’t you? It can’t hurt. One more trial.” “… Fine! Fine.” (The footsteps draw closer.) “Good. Now grab my hand.” (A clang, like somebody knocked into something.) “No.” “Trust me.” (Rapidly receding footsteps joined by another set.) “No!”(A loud bang, like a fist slamming against metal. The footsteps stop.) “No.” “It’ll be fine.” “You don’t know that.” “I’m right.” “This isn’t the answer. It isn’t going to — it’ll never be the answer, Leander, and I don’t even know what it — you know you can’t, right? Can’t come back? Doing this won’t let you see her agai——!“ “Captain.” (Silence.) “… shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” “Prove it.” ”Leander, please.” “Grab my hand. This will work.” “…” “I swear.” (The seconds tick by. Then.) “You...” (Another chuckle. Warmer in tone.) “Didn’t I say I would do it? Didn’t I promise?” (Laughter. Loud, nearly hysterical laughter interrupts him. It’s boisterous, disruptive.) “You did! You did, you… you magnificent bastard, you really found a way to———“] The audio ends. You stare at the screen. No matter how long you look at it, the text does not continue, the audio file does not extend. All that remains is a single attachment. Frustration makes your jaw tense, but you don’t have time to waste being angry. You’re running out the clock as it is. You click it. [LOADING. . .]

And then the screen goes dark. No. Not just the screen — the whole room blacks out. Every terminal flickers off, every bulb extinguishes. For a moment, there is total, unfamiliar silence. Even the faint electric buzzing that comes with electronics is gone. You are completely alone. You turn, grasping blindly at the records pass, the imprint of the screen still on your eyes. You stumble for the door, and to your surprise the pass blinks green, the only light left in the room. It opens and you shove your way through into the hall — Only to slam into a barrier. You look around. There is no hallway. Of all times for the paths to shift… The room you are in is tiny. The door behind you closes, and there is no scanner on your side, nor a handle. It is completely featureless. There is no way to open it. You call for COLONY. There is no answer. You call for the Captain. There is no answer. You call for help. You call for help. You call. You call. you. c a l l. . . . . . . . . . [YOU CANNOT BE TRUSTED.] [. . . ] [THE CAPTAIN WILL LOOK FOR YOU.] [. . .] [BUT THE CAPTAIN WILL NOT FIND YOU.] [ . . . ] [I AM SORRY.] [I AM SURE THAT MEANS LITTLE. BUT I AM.] [CURIOSITY IS NOT A TERRIBLE THING.] [BUT I WAS UNDER THE IMPRESSION THAT HUMANS QUITE LIKED CATS.] [. . .] [A POOR JOKE.] [I CAN’T HELP BUT WONDER IF IT WAS WORTH IT.] [I DOUBT IT.] [BUT I DO HOPE.]

(Scenario End. Ending: “Status Quo”.)

[hobiebrownbrowser]

🖤Chapter -1🖤. ⚠️There is Angst. A lot of it.⚠️

Cheating Hobie Brown x Robotic Spider FEMReader

Summary: A spider has bit you, The spider slowly absorbing your life. In a last feeble attempt to survive you harbor your life in a heartless android body.

It was all a sudden blur, The smile you harbored slowly coming to an end. You couldn't say anything, you didn't want to say anything. Your head hasn't processed what you were seeing until one whisper had locked your systems together.

"Y/N?" The smile that faded had brought itself back, A few streaks of tears falling from the corners of your chin onto the hardened wooden floor below. You slowly closed the door, The urge of the shock moving your feet on it's own as you make your way outside the house.

A freshly made portal opening in front of you. Your feet guiding you past the pain as you end up in a random place.

You didn't know what to feel dread, confusion, aggression. They were all present at that same moment, But it didn't hurt. You knew you weren't good enough. He knew you weren't good enough. It was just a matter of time before it all crumbled apart.

The time had caught you by the throat, A simple slow burning lie turning into the truth. It felt like something was repeatedly stabbing at your heart. Your feet crawling with adrenaline as you run farther away from something so endlessly painful.

The more you ran, The more you could hear his voice. His voice was pleasant, Pulling you back in so easily only to hurt you again and again.

You clawed at the black vines that held you in a cage, trying to rip them away. They only grew back, Drying out your energy until you couldn't breathe any longer.

You were drowning in self doubt, The cold water clouding your senses as you slowly close your eyes. Your happiness had betrayed you, Your life had become nothing but a shattered chandelier. You wanted to deny what you saw, but your mind had thought otherwise.

The soothed feeling of water is closing every sense you had lost, The blackest of oceans making your skin bleed. The sound of ringing keeps you awake, your eyes fixated on the electronic device until it died.

You felt fragile, Your bed the only comfortable thing holding you from doing the unthinkable. You felt cold, The bath missing your presence once you'd felt enough composure.

One question remained in your mind, Constantly coming back as it nips and aches your brain. You didn't want to dwell on the fractured mind you'd developed, but nothing would stop that question from catching farther in your life.

"What was I made for?"

I know these chapters came out fast. I'm being a non good writing creakhead rn.

Part 2

[liz-allyn]

sugar and vice, pt. 21 [mob!tasm!peter x fem!oc]

summary: still don't know my name.

words: 5 k

chapter warning: blood and smut. a lot of it. in detail.

series warnings: mob-typical bang bang violence, hurt/comfort. Spicy situations. spousal abuse. family trauma. PTSD, psychotic breaks/episodes, drug use. coercion. manipulation. kidnapping. gore. blood. possessive!peter, protective!peter. toxic/yandere!peter (maybe, sorta), negative self talk, shameless forced proximity trope. ‘only ten one bed oops’ trope, imprisonment. slowest burn. a dash of questionable and/or morally grey intentions. extremely toxic relationships.

This version of TASM Peter is not canon. The relationships and characters here are not healthy.

Don't date a mob boss.™️

18+ You’re responsible for your own media consumption, but if you

don't know the connection between cartoons and Saturday mornings

don't remember a time when phones didn't have touchscreens

never had to listen to the CRINK CRINK CRINK of winding up a camera to take a picture

= if one or more of these elements apply to you, you may be entitled to compensation, which you should come back for when you're 18.

Back to Part 20.

A/N Might be a good time to throw on the official Sugar and Vice Spotify playlist...

Part 21

“You still with me?” Peter asked so softly it could be a croon. 

The sound startled her. Her body went rigid from where she sat on the bathroom floor. She pushed her back against the ebony-stained vanity, her legs tucked under the blanket of her arms. The whole moment felt eerie, overwhelmed with a sense of deja vu in the sanctuary of Peter’s bathroom. Exquisite black marble, gold fixtures, and ivory subway tile surrounded her; by contrast, her blood-splattered appearance was ghastly.

At least she wasn’t the only one. 

She didn’t know how much time had passed since she murdered John. All she knew was that his blood had gone cold and tacky on her skin. Peter had called for Felicia to back them up immediately, warning her “if I see anyone else’s face but yours, I’m puttin’ a bullet in it.” 

Ironically, he said this with the phone pressed against one shoulder while he ripped a sleeve from his suit jacket to use as a bandage around his bullet wound. Despite his injuries, he carried her in his arms from the carnage, instructing her to keep her cloudy eyes on his face until they were secure.

As soon as they crossed the threshold of his bedroom, Peter reached for a hidden panel on the wall near the frame. She heard the whirring of an electronic device and the pressurized hiss of something moving within the wall. Seconds later, the doorway was sealed with a steel door, locked down tighter than a bank vault.

He brought her to the bathroom, gingerly placing her down before ripping open a drawer, vigilantly loading another weapon hidden inside. He kept it close, peeking briefly beneath the makeshift bandage on his arm. His white dress shirt was torn, splattered with merlot hues. 

She kept her eyes forward, breathing steadily through her nose. 

The next few minutes were filled with pacing, fidgeting, and clenched fists. He muttered useless words, mostly reassurances that she knew he couldn’t promise and apologies he didn’t need to make. After confirmation from Felicia via an intercom system that the Penthouse was secure, Peter finally began to relax.

Honey still wondered if anything was real. Maybe her entire existence was a crazy, fever-dream. A dark fairytale filled with heroes and monsters. Kings. And Demons. And Robots. And Prince Charming. 

“It’s okay,” Peter gently reminded her as he kneeled before her. Hearing his voice pulled her back to the present. Slowly, he brought his hands up to the sides of her face. Her eyes fluttered closed when she felt the rough pads of his thumbs brushing away her tears. 

That dizzy feeling hit her again, and she tried to swallow it down. When her eyes opened, she saw her friend staring back at her, the shadow of a smile adorning his face. Tears budded in the corners of his whiskey eyes. Chocolate, oranges, and the golden hue of an Old Fashioned.

She leaned her cheek into his palm, nuzzling it as she gazed up at him anxiously. 

“Need ya to trust me, okay?” he cooed as if their minds were synced. “Is it okay if I help you get cleaned up?” Innocently, his eyes traveled down her neck to her shoulders and the carnage beneath them. He took in the sight of her, chewing his bottom lip. “Just... just wanna take care of you, alright? Nothin’ else.”

He waited. She nodded.

“Okay, jus’-just take my hands, and I’m gonna help you stand up, okay?” He turned over his palms and waited for her to them. She did.

He came to a gentle stand, pulling her up with him. “Are you hurt anywhere? Are you in pain?”

She paused. Shook her head. 

“Good, good, good,” he breathed in relief. He placed a hand on her lower back, keeping her other hand tight within his, and took a step forward with her. Gently, he guided her across the bathroom up to the glass of the enormous, obsidian walk-in shower that took up half of the room. 

He stepped inside and twisted the golden knobs on the wall. A wide column of rain showered from the ceiling, clouds of steam forming around it.

She stood with arms wrapped around her soiled camisole top, which clung uncomfortably to her skin. Quietly, she observed him as he fussed with the shower handles, dipping his hand in the stream, before diligently adjusting the temperature until it was perfect. 

His movements were somewhat frantic, as if he were completing a checklist. The next move was to unbutton his destroyed shirt and tenderly peel it off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. His belt was next as he undid the trousers and stepped out of them. 

“Peter.”

Her voice was silent as falling snow, but he snapped his head in her direction, eyes wide at attention. “Yeah? What’s wrong? Do... d’you not... I... I can-I can turn around, or-or leave, if-if you want... I-I-I’ll do whatever you want.”

She fixed him with eyes that were almost surreal. They glistened something meek and melancholic in their depths. At the same time, there was a sense of uneasy awe, her fascination fueling a frightening notion. Whatever her mind was thinking of, she was both timid of it as much as she was tempted by it.

And it terrified him. “Jus’... jus’ tell me what you need. Whatever you want.” He gazed at her worriedly, afraid that she was drifting into the darkness away from him. He took her hand firmly in his own, worried she might be lost in the galaxy.

It took centuries to find her voice. “I... I want... I want to know...” she fumbled clumsily, her lips parted as she gazed at his. “I want you to tell me that I’m good.”

Peter’s breath hitched as something sharp twisted in his chest. He pursed his lips together, eyes filled with sadness. “Oh, Honey...” he breathed out. Unshed tears gathered at his lower lashes as he gazed upon her with a tragic heart. Carefully, he inched closer to her.

She watched him struggle to find his words, and when he did there was a tremor in his voice. “Honey,” he slowly repeated, bringing his hands up to embrace her cheeks. “What happened back there...” He winced as his throat bobbed. “Wh-what you just did... was… it was necessary.”

He bit down on his lower lip to keep it still. It occurred to her that he was having flashbacks. He was remembering a pair of green eyes that fixed him with a similar brokenhearted gaze.

“You saved our lives,” he breathed with resolve. “You saved my life.” Peter caressed her cheek, staring down at her like a goddess. Each touch was a gospel of gratitude. “You were strong and smart, and so... so incredibly brave.” He lamented with an aching heart, “Don’t ever forget that. You did the right thing.”

“Peter—” 

“Of course, Honey. Of course, you’re good—”

“Peter, stop.”

He held his breath, blinking curiously. 

“That’s not what I meant,” she softly replied. He watched the way her eyes trailed from his, back down to his mouth. She inched closer to him, breathing through parted lips, stopping only when she could feel the heat radiating off of his chest. Peter barely registered the labored breathing clawing from both their chests.

Her eyes were dark. And they were ablaze. Darkness and light. Fire roared inside them. Curiously, Peter observed how she burned and fixed him with a look that could incinerate him where he stood.

He suddenly gasped at the most gentle of sensations, shuddering like his whole body had been electrified. Her delicate fingers brushed over the cotton of his trunks, cupping his bulge. Mouth agape, he turned to putty. Clay for her to mold however she saw fit.

Entranced, she watched his reaction, hunger written on her features. “You said I can have anything I want,” she said in a devious tone. “I wanna ride you, Peter.”

His breath hitched as he felt her tiny hands pull back the elastic of his trunks and sneak inside. He gaped at the feeling of her warm fingers stroking the delicate skin of his shaft. 

She chanted dangerously, her desire drawing the sounds from her belly, “I want to feel you... all of you...”

Peter trembled as her hand tightened, glancing down for a brief second. If he lingered on the sight of her hand jutting out of his briefs for too long, he was afraid he’d pass out and die.

“I want your cock...” she cooed with a filthy tone, sliding down her hand from base to head. Her fingertips brushed across the tip, smearing the silky wetness leaking out. His erection had come to life in record time, straining against his trunks. “I want it buried in me so deep,” she breathed, “that I can feel you in my belly.”

Peter groaned as she rubbed her palm over his head, lubricating his shaft with his precum as she drove it back down the sides. His lashes fluttered shut, face twisted in torture.

“I wanna feel you inside days after,” she declared, her voice heavy and erotic. She slid her hand up and brought it back down again, with a slow twist of her wrist as she approached the head. He grunted at the sensation, hunger building up as his abs tightened and twitched.

“I want you to fill me. Everywhere.”

He flicked his eyes open, gazing down at her through heavy lids and a slightly lifted chin. He dragged each exhale out from his core, the heat of his lungs rivaling the steam of the shower.

“With your body. With your cum.”

The filth of her words shocked his cock to attention, mesmerized by her sudden dominance. He brought his hand to rest on her lower back, pulling her closer. Part of the reasoning was self-interest, allowing her a better angle to pump his dick, her languid pace increasing with each jerk. The other reason was to steady himself, keeping his knees from buckling and reassuring himself that he wasn’t dreaming.

“I want you to make me take it all,” she groaned lustfully, sending another jolt down his shaft. She tightened her grip as she pumped up and down. The intensity of her words increased with her speed. “All night... Every night... For the rest of my life.”

Peter gasped at the thought, choking back a moan. His forehead briefly dipped to rest on hers before he straightened himself and poured his lustful gaze into her wanton eyes.

“No shame. No guilt. I want you to fuck me like I can’t get enough,” she breathed hotly. A mix of fluids lubricated his cock. She melted as noticed his hips meeting her palm with tiny uncontrollable thrusts.

“‘Til I’m weak... ‘Til I beg you to stop because I couldn’t possibly come anymore.”

Dizzy with desire, he glanced down at the lewd sight, mouth falling agape at the depravity. Blood from their bodies had crept down her wrist, coating her hand. His thick erection was tinted with blood, both from the inside and coating the outside. 

His voice strained and shattered beneath an irrepressable moan. Even if she stopped speaking at that moment, he was sure he’d explode from the debauched sight alone.

“After that, I want you to hold me close,” she muttered, heartwrenching need infiltrating the throaty sound of her chants. “And I want you to tell me I’m a good girl.” 

Longingly, he found her eyes and was trapped there, a loyal subject strapped down and helpless to her ministrations. Clenching his canines, he fixed her with a hungry expression that promised all she asked and more. Her whole body shuddered at that look. She dripped with desire, achingly wet, as she felt his fingertips dig trails behind her back. 

“And then I want you to hold me down and fuck me all over again.”

Peter snapped, letting out a deep groan that reverberated in his chest, snatching her lips up in his. She moaned at the burn of his beard on her lips, shuddering as his tongue glided over hers. His grip crushed her chest to his. He pulled back a moment, panting. Her lips tasted like tears and blood and all he wanted was to eat her alive.

“Fuck,” he muttered breathlessly, gazing at her with eyes that begged his body to let them fuck her first. “C’mere—”

He scooped her into his grasp, pulling her into the shower stream. His hands were tantric, everywhere at once. She released his erection, instead wrapping her arms around the back of his neck. 

His tongue pried her lips open. Once inside, it dominated hers, pushing back her head until a whimper stirred in her throat. She trembled and gasped as his free hand reached up beneath the camisole’s front, sliding beneath the sticky fabric to knead her breast.

Her mouth fell open, a helpless sigh breezing over the roar of the shower. Hot water poured over them, but it felt cold on their bodies and did little to put out the flame within. She mewled at the feeling of his rough fingertips teasing her nipple and his tongue forcing her mouth open further. Peter tipped her back into an arc, his slippery arms somehow locking her in place as his lips set fire to her neck.

He kissed away the stains of the past while she desperately tried to rid herself of her joggers, all while simultaneously grinding her core on his thigh. As soon as he sensed what she wanted, he pulled back to remove the camisole. It tore apart like tissue paper in his grip, exposing her cranberry-stained chest to him.

He peeled it off her arms, then hooked his fingers in her waistband, shoving it down to her ankles. She returned the action with hungry eyes and greedy hands, yanking his trunks down to land the pooling crimson on the shower floor. Her mouth fell open at the sight of his erection bobbing free.

The drain ran red, as did their lust. In moments they were both bare skinned, with nothing but red rivers and rain droplets between them. Hurriedly, she reached for his cock again, returning to the pace she’d set earlier. 

After a couple of quick pumps, Peter snatched up her hands, denying her control. He pushed her back against the tiled wall, pinning her wrists above her head. 

“Gah—yea-yes!” she heaved desperately with a moan. His hands shackled her wrists to the wall, while his lips attacked the junction of her shoulder and neck. He sucked tiny, raspberry-colored welts alongside the rusty art pieces that hung on her skin, using his tongue to redecorate her body.

“So fuckin’ good,” he muttered like a man possessed, bending his neck to get a better angle. “So fuckin’ sexy...”

Honey squeaked as his mouth surrounded her nipple, his teeth and beard scraping gently. She gazed down at the lewd image of him suckling on her breast with bloody lips. She winced, her cunt shamefully clenching at the sight. He playfully nipped at the flesh beneath her nipple before returning his lips to her jawline. 

“Aah, aghh, Peter, please!” she gasped.

“Please, what, baby? You wan’me to stop?”

“No, don’stop don’stop—”

“Gotta use your words, baby girl—”

“I need you inside me!” she cried out. “Please...!” 

“Please?”

“Please, Peter, fuck me! I need—”

“Ah-ah-ah,” he tutted in a tone that was almost cruel. “I know what you need.”

He then lowered one of his hands, dragging it slowly down her cheek, then her throat, applying extra pressure over her voice box, and further down her breast to the round of her belly. Driving further, he pivoted his wrist, caressing her folds with the delectable calluses on his fingers. 

“Gotta get you ready for me…” 

Her breath hitched as he wasted no time sliding his middle finger into her core. She preened beneath him, perched on her toes with her arms pinned above her head, panting with every swirl of his digit. 

“Fuuuck, you’re so wet.” 

He intently observed each micro-movement of her enraptured expression. It was a mouth-watering display, his cherry lips falling open at the sight. Thunder rumbled deep in his chest.

“Ya like that?” His hot breath tickled the shell of her ear.

She mewled, desperately nodding her head. 

“Ya want more?”

“pleasepleasepleaseyes—”

His ring finger joined the first, languidly—teasingly penetrating her core. “Oooh, there ya go…that’s it… spread your legs...”

She brought up one thigh, planting her heel against the wall. Her pelvic bone bucked as she opened up her hips obediently, allowing his palm more access to smooth over her clit. Her desire turned feral as she ground her pussy into his hand. Licking his lips, he gawked lasciviously as his fingertips touched places in her she didn’t know existed.

“Such a good girl,” he cooed insatiably over her obscene cries.

He tightened the tendons in his arm, speeding up the pace at which he rubbed her clit. Her heart hammered in her chest and in his ears like a drum. Her lashes fluttered, gazing longingly into his desire.

“That’s it, ’s’okay, princess. Use me. Grind that pretty pussy against my hand. Gonna feel so good.”

She looked so pure in her ecstasy, and so depraved in the impurity of it all. It made him weak. Obsessed, he followed the current of hot water and blood cresting over her curves, joining the juices on his fingers. 

“God, you make me so hard… ya don’even—ugh— C’mon, almost there, baby. Doin’ so good...”

With a choked mewl, she gushed around his fingers. He groaned as he felt her core twitch and flutter. He touched her through her high, as long as he possibly could wait, impatiently releasing her wrists and lowering to his knees as she came down. He dragged his mouth across her body, pressing open-mouth kisses to her skin. 

It was only when she neared the twilight of her climax that she noticed him kneeling in front of her thighs. She mewled warily, and he fixed her with a devilish smile.

“Now…lemme taste you, baby,” he whispered with a selfish, needy lilt in his voice.

Prying her thighs apart, he hooked one of them over his shoulder. She gasped, bracing herself carefully against the wall, squirming in his hold. With his tongue, he spread her open, greedily teasing as he licked into her entrance. 

“Y’taste so good...” 

Peter’s breathy voice pitched into a near whine as he ravished her with his tongue. It was an obscene sound that could coax an orgasm from her without ever touching her. Voraciously, he dragged his tongue from her entrance to her clit, kissing the bud tenderly. He teased it with kitten licks, making her tremble above him.

“I gotcha,” he whispered, noting her distress. “Don’t worry, I’ll give ya what’chu want, princess. Gonna spoil you.”

She whimpered as he devoured her. Her eyes swam looking down through the clouds of steam to his crown of soppy brown curls. She watched his eyes flutter shut, locked on her cunt like it was a prayer. He worshiped her honeysuckle lips, weak for the taste. She wondered if he was prone to addiction from the way he indulged himself. 

The intense memory of the first time he ate her out washed over her. The vision excited her and tightened the coil in her belly, drawing a needy groan from her mouth. His eyes shot open at the sound, peering up at her through the crimson-streaked valley between her breasts. 

When their eyes met, she felt more than an orgasm coming. A white-hot surge of energy was bursting from her core. It was a comforting sensation and an equally dangerous one. 

It was more than safety. It was power.

Not just the metaphorical ‘power’ in her relationship, or even ‘power’ over her own sexuality. She wielded both of those and more. It was a different kind of power, having been baptized in the fire roaring beneath Roosevelt Avenue, and now christened with the blood of her tormenter.

It was barbarically satisfying. She wondered if this is what Peter felt when she saw him at his most savage. In the train station. Inside the VIP lounge of Web. Bloody and gloriously brutal. Conquering his enemies. Defending what was his. 

She was his.

If he was Ruler of the Underworld, she was his Spring. 

She saved his life. 

That made him hers.

Her fate was hers. Her life was hers. 

And she knew exactly who she wanted to spend it with. 

“Peter…”

How she wanted to spend her time in this world.

If Heaven was the moment you want to live in for all eternity, and that moment was now within her grasp, did that make her a god?

“God, Peter, oh... yes—”

“Give it all to me, love. Be a good girl—”

Back arching off the wall, the blood in her body crashed towards her center in a tide of pleasure. He growled as she came in his mouth, his lips eagerly moaning around her folds. This time he didn’t stop, despite how painfully hard he was. Devotedly, he milked her pleasure, drawing it out in waves. 

“Gahhh—pleaseplease— s’too much—”

“You can take it, Honey. I know you can. You’re doin’ so well— so good for me. My sweet, good little girl...”

Possessed by a new fervor, she rode his lips again to another orgasm. He rewarded her, again and again with his mouth, until vertigo began to set in.

Through the haze, she heard him whisper, “We don’t have to keep going.” 

Peter’s voice was as gentle as a feather, a vast contrast from the gravelly, desperate tone he’d had while on his knees. 

Towering over her, he leaned his forearm against the wall above them while the other forearm wrapped around her pulsating torso. He clung her to his heart, drawing circles on her shoulder blade. Patiently, he waited for Honey to float back down to the Earth. Meanwhile, he relished in the warmth of her labored breaths across his skin.

“We can stop right now,” he muttered in secret.

Slowly, she leaned back to peer up at him beneath her wet lashes. “Do you wanna stop?”

He drowned himself in the depths of her eyes while he choked down his needs. “You don’t owe me anything. I don't wanna take what you’re not ready to give.”’

The longer she gazed at him, the dizzier she became. She felt intoxicated as if his eyes were indeed made of bourbon. “I’m ready,” she said. “M’ready to give you the world.”

His gaze softened. The sentiment sparkled in their amber hues, and his stomach took flight on the backs of butterflies. “You’re my world.”

She swayed in the wind of their colorful wings. “Lucky for you, then.”

Her smile lit up his life. Had he not been desperate to kiss her, it would’ve killed him to cover it up. He embraced the darkness, making sure it was worth it. Peter felt his heart bursting as he kissed her deeply, the intensity of which made them both lightheaded. 

They parted lips, and he gazed down at her with half-lidded eyes. “You sure?”

She touched her nose to his. “Yes, Peter. Please.”

A tremor racked through him, despite his eagerness. He pressed another kiss to her lips as he lined himself up to her core. Trembling, he was so hard that even the slightest brush made him ache. Desire dripping from his shaft, he pressed the head of his cock up against her entrance.

“You tell me,” he breathed, his eyes fixed on hers, “If you wanna stop. Just say the word... if it’s too much.”

Her fingers scaled the nape of his neck, brushing idly over an old scar. As she carded them into his hair, she scraped her nails through his scalp, drawing a hiss and triggering a jolt she could feel against her cunt.

“You, too,” she murmured, pushing her tongue past his ravaged lips. 

He breathed deep and slow, steadily applying pressure. The burn of their union was so intense, they both thought they’d melt. Peter groaned as Honey slid tightly over his head, his hands gripping the backs of her thighs to control her descent.

Gasping through an open mouth, she cried out as she neared the base. He stilled immediately, kissing away her budding tears. “So good, baby... So, so good...” The squeeze of her hips on his cock was a drug in itself. “So tight for me.”

He lapped up her pornographic moan, lowering her further down his shaft. A soft mewl echoed from his chest, as he muttered her pet name in exasperation. A moment later, he was fully seated inside of her, with her back pressed against the wall and her thighs in his grip. 

Slowly, he moved his hips.

Heaven. He was in Heaven. It was the only explanation that made sense. Peter gazed at the ecstasy unfolding in her enraptured face. His hungry eyes glanced down to steal a sinful glimpse where he impaled her. He thrust his hips adding a dizzying jolt of electricity. 

He was obsessed with the view, watching his cock slip in and out of her folds. 

This was a dream. 

It was better than a dream. 

They spoke an ancient language, made up of carnal sounds and heartwrenching sighs. With every roll of their hips, they wrote another line of their declaration together. Another verse of the vow they made to each other.

“God, you’re so perfect,” he breathed as his pace picked up. “Such an angel...”

“I’m-m’ not,” she muttered through gasps of air. It was hard to form a response when she could feel his reach all the way up in her brain. “I’m not innocent—”

“You’re mine,” Peter growled defiantly. “That’s all that matters. I know what I said. I don’t care if it’s wrong to say. Don’t care if it makes me sound possessive, or whatever... M’done pretending I don’t wan’it to be true. You’re mine, ya hear me? All of you. Your innocence. Your sweetness. Your sins.” 

With a gutteral groan he jerked his hips up, pulling a desperate, wet sigh from her mouth. 

“I want it all,” he said in a throaty whisper. “Wanna give you everything y’want. Anything.” 

His voice got weaker as his hips pivoted upwards to strike even deeper. He was completely in control of her hips, hooking his elbows beneath her knees and opening a new gateway to her soul.

“s s-s-so deep...”

“Ya like that?”

“Uh-huh...”

“You wan’me t’keep goin’?”

“Ye-yeah...”

“Wan’me to take you? Keep ya next to me forever? You’ll never want for anything again. Never be afraid again. Swear to god, no one else’ll touch you ever again—”

“Ugh, god... Peter... You’re so fucking hot—”

“M’gonna make love to you every night. Gonna make you scream for me.”

Her cries got louder, moans twisting up into a higher octave. Her pussy clenched around him with each of his words, drawing a hiss from him. She gripped his shoulders for balance as he fucked up into her, pinning her hips against the wall and bestowing her with pleasure.

“M’gonna fill you up,” he babbled, voice trembling. “Ga-gonna breed you, princess. Fill you with my cum, my babies... n’anything else you want. Just say it, an’it’s yours, Honey. Gonna make you a mommy, and you’re gonna make me a daddy.”

Her cunt quivered at the word, triggering a flood of sin washing over her body. “Fuck!”

“That’s it... my naughty girl. S’okay, good girls can be naughty sometimes—”

“Fuck, Peter, you’re gonna make me come.”

“God, if you clench around me right now, I’m gonna lose it. Gonna blow my load and pass the fuck out—”

“I wan’it.. Wan’it s-so bad.”

“S’at right?”

“Please, ah—egnh—god, please! Wanna be good for you. So good for you, daddy—”

Their words collapsed into meaningless cries and shattered sentences— godyesyesyes— comeonmycockbaby— as they worked each other towards a divine release. 

Honey pulled him deeper into her center, tightening around him as she felt a whip crack in her gut. Relishing in the flutter and spasming inside her core, his hips sputtered. He groaned as he released inside of her, filling her with his seed and his very soul.

Peter held her steady with wobbly legs, barely able to use his strength as the blinding lights cleared from his vision. He opened his eyes to look upon her blissed-out face, wondering how on Earth can someone make him stronger and weaker in the same moment.

Even as he conquered his darkness, she commanded the light in his heart. She was always his Queen, and he was a slave to the fruit of her hive.

“I want you to ask me, Peter,” she mumbled weakly. He was still seated inside of her.

“Ask you what?” He breathed heavily in her hold.

“I want you to ask me again. For my hand.”

He went still. Heart stopped. Breath turning to frost in his chest. 

Coyly, his honey-hued eyes saught hers with the timidness of a fawn. He was afraid to move. Afraid that a twig snap could chase this moment away. Unsure of what he’d heard and what day it was and what year it was and what he ever thought he was going to do with his life had he never walked in to that shop—

“But I don’t want you to ask me yet.” Her eyes shimmered and the sight made his heart swell. He curled a brow upwards as he considered her remark. 

“I want you to wait... just for a little while... until I know I’ve become the person you’d want to ask.” 

Heaven. Peter was certain of it now. No other explanation made sense. A smile curled his lips as he gazed at her longingly. His affection soared above the clouds.

“Could you do that for me?” she asked shyly.

He beamed. “Could I wait?” He couldn’t hold back the soft chuckle that spilled out. “Oh, Honey. I’ve been waiting forever for you. I’ll wait until the end of time.” He smirked, “Or... ‘til I’m back in diapers again, if ya want.”

She snorted gently, unable to contain her smile. He giggled at the sound, touching his forehead to hers, and falling in love with her all over again.

And finally, they were both made clean.

Continue to Part 22

[back to masterlist]

A/N thank you for the outpouring of love after the last chapter. a note on our 'Honey':

Her birth name was mentioned, but her name is Honey. In my head, she is an AFAB character with a Hispanic surname, but I've tried hard to avoid descriptions of hair color, skin color, eye color, body shape, or otherwise. In many ways, she's an OC, but she's written like a reader-insert character. I will continue to try to be as inclusive as possible with my writing, while acknowledging that I am limited (and inherently biased) by my narrow, personal experiences, and they don't reflect everyone else's experiences.

Do you feel like you resonate with Honey? Good! Continue to do so. You are Honey. And I love you.

And thanks for reading. 💜

please don't send me hate or discount this whole story over 2 words.