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How Celebal Technologies' Power & Utility Forecasting Framework (PUFF) is Transforming Forecasting in the Energy Sector
In today's fast-evolving energy landscape, accurate forecasting is pivotal for optimizing operations, improving decision-making, and ensuring sustainability. The Power & Utility Forecasting Framework (PUFF) by Celebal Technologies is designed to address these needs, offering a comprehensive and intelligent solution to revolutionize forecasting in the energy and sustainability sectors. By leveraging advanced industrial intelligence, PUFF provides a reliable, precise, and scalable forecasting platform tailored for utilities and energy providers.
Empowering the Energy Sector with PUFF
PUFF is a state-of-the-art solution that integrates diverse data sources and external factors, such as weather conditions and market prices, to deliver precise predictions across multiple areas of the energy sector. This holistic approach significantly enhances the accuracy of load forecasting, generation forecasting, price forecasting, and weather forecasting, enabling energy companies to make informed, data-driven decisions.
Key Features of the Power & Utility Forecasting Framework (PUFF)
Seamless Data Integration: PUFF effortlessly supports data integration from multiple sources, including historical energy data, real-time sensor data, and external inputs such as weather reports and pricing information. This data integration capability ensures a unified and accurate forecasting process.
Automated Data Cleaning: Data accuracy is paramount in forecasting. PUFF's automated data cleaning feature eliminates inconsistencies and errors, ensuring that the forecasting models work with clean, high-quality data for more reliable predictions.
Multivariate Data Exploration: PUFF allows users to explore and analyze complex datasets, identifying relationships between various factors such as energy consumption, weather patterns, and market prices. This multivariate analysis aids in refining the accuracy of forecasts.
Automatic Weather Data Acquisition: Weather plays a crucial role in energy forecasting, particularly in load forecasting and generation forecasting. PUFF automatically gathers weather data, continuously updating the forecasting models to reflect the latest conditions, ensuring timely and accurate predictions.
Advanced Time Series Forecasting Algorithms: PUFF employs cutting-edge time series forecasting algorithms that are fine-tuned to handle the complexities of energy demand, generation, and pricing fluctuations. These algorithms ensure that the forecasts are robust and adaptive to changing conditions in the energy market.
Industrial Intelligence in Energy Forecasting
The energy sector is increasingly adopting industrial intelligence to drive efficiency and innovation. PUFF is built on industrial intelligence principles, providing utilities with a predictive edge. Whether it’s predicting future energy demand through load forecasting or estimating renewable energy generation based on weather conditions, PUFF delivers actionable insights that enhance operational efficiency.
PUFF also supports the growing need for sustainability by helping energy providers optimize resource allocation and minimize waste. By accurately predicting energy supply and demand, utilities can reduce their carbon footprint, cut operational costs, and improve energy efficiency.
Unlocking Operational Excellence with Celebal Technologies
PUFF is more than just a forecasting tool. It is a platform designed to streamline operations across the energy sector, providing key advantages that enable energy providers to meet their strategic goals.
Intuitive & Self-Explanatory UI: The user interface of PUFF is designed for ease of use. It enables users to navigate through the platform effortlessly, interpret data without any technical expertise, and access critical features with minimal training.
High Degree of Customization: PUFF offers highly customizable forecasting options, allowing users to tailor the models to their specific needs. Whether it’s adding unique variables or adjusting forecasting timeframes, the platform ensures that energy providers receive accurate predictions aligned with their operational objectives.
Easily Deployable System: PUFF’s architecture supports easy deployment, making it accessible to energy utilities globally. With minimal setup time and simple integration processes, the system quickly becomes an integral part of a utility’s forecasting workflow.
Effortless Forecasting: PUFF’s simple 8-tab setup allows users to name and update forecasting experiments quickly. This ensures that energy companies can run multiple experiments simultaneously, making forecasting a seamless process.
Centralized Access: The platform centralizes access to essential features such as tracking, error analysis, and configuration, all from a single selection page. This enhances operational efficiency by enabling users to manage all aspects of forecasting from one place.
Robust Security: Built on Azure, PUFF prioritizes data security and user protection. With advanced encryption and security protocols, energy providers can trust that their data remains secure, ensuring compliance with regulatory standards.
Streamline Decision-Making with Interactive Dashboards
To further enhance the forecasting experience, PUFF offers real-time interactive dashboards that empower users to monitor and analyze a wide array of metrics. These dashboards provide a comprehensive view of various parameters such as energy consumption, generation trends, and price fluctuations, enabling power management optimization. The dashboards are easy to interpret, helping users make informed decisions to improve efficiency, reduce costs, and ensure smooth operations.
The Role of PUFF in the Sustainability Sector
Sustainability has become a primary focus for energy companies, and accurate forecasting is key to driving greener operations. By providing detailed energy forecasting, PUFF helps utilities integrate renewable energy sources more effectively, predict peak demand periods, and optimize energy generation from renewable sources such as solar and wind. The ability to forecast generation based on real-time weather data ensures that renewable energy is maximized, contributing to a sustainable future.
Why Choose Celebal Technologies?
Celebal Technologies’ PUFF offers a unique blend of innovation and operational efficiency for energy providers. The platform has proven to deliver impressive results:
70% Enhanced Operational Efficiency: By providing accurate and timely forecasts, PUFF significantly boosts the operational efficiency of energy utilities.
3X Risk Mitigation: The platform helps reduce risks related to energy shortages, overproduction, and price fluctuations by delivering precise forecasts.
60% Improvement in Planned Maintenance: With reliable forecasts, utilities can schedule maintenance more effectively, reducing unplanned downtime and ensuring continuous operation.
Conclusion
In an industry where accurate predictions are critical, Celebal Technologies' Power & Utility Forecasting Framework (PUFF) stands out as a leading solution for utilities and energy providers. By leveraging power forecasting, utility forecasting, load forecasting, generation forecasting, and price forecasting, PUFF empowers the energy and sustainability sectors to optimize operations, reduce costs, and drive sustainability goals.
With seamless data integration, advanced forecasting algorithms, and robust security measures, PUFF is the future of energy forecasting. It delivers real-time insights that transform how utilities manage resources, navigate market challenges, and contribute to a sustainable future. To know more about the solution, get in touch with the experts at [email protected] or visit Celebal Technologies.
#Power forecasting#utility forecasting#industrial intelligence#energy forecasting#energy sector#load forecasting#sustainability sector#generation forecasting#price forecasting#Data Integration#weather forecasting#Celebal technologies#PUFF#Power & Utility Forecasting Framework
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#Platform Load Cell Market Scope#Platform Load Cell Market Forecast#Platform Load Cell Market Overview
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⚙️ Tool Balancer Market Forecast to Reach $762.8 Million by 2035 Amid Growing Demand in Manufacturing & Automotive Sectors
The global Tool Balancer market is poised to grow from $358.7 million in 2024 to $762.8 million by 2035, reflecting a compound annual growth rate (CAGR) of 7.1% over the forecast period.
Detailed Analysis - https://datastringconsulting.com/industry-analysis/tool-balancer-market-research-report
Tool balancers are vital in reducing operator fatigue and improving workflow efficiency across applications such as manufacturing assembly lines, automotive maintenance, warehouse operations, and biomedical equipment handling. The report explores market expansion across dimensions like Product Type, Application, Technology Integration, and Load Capacity.
🔍 Competitive Landscape & Industry Trends
The Tool Balancer market is highly competitive, with top players focusing on innovation, durability, and ergonomic safety. Leading companies include:
Ingersoll Rand
Carl Stahl
Gleason Reel (Hubbell)
Conductix-Wampfler
Tractel
Aero-Motive (Woodhead, A Molex Company)
Hangzhou Tangcheng
POWERMASTER
James Walker
Fasten Enterprises
NAC-InterCom
TE Connectivity
Key drivers fueling market expansion include the evolution of Industry 4.0, growing automation needs, and heightened emphasis on operator safety and fatigue reduction.
🌍 Global Outlook & Demand Hubs
Major growth opportunities lie in:
Rapid industrialization in emerging economies
Technological innovations in smart lifting systems
Strategic partnerships for equipment standardization
Demand is particularly strong in the U.S., Germany, China, Japan, and the UK, with Indonesia, Chile, and South Africa emerging as attractive markets for Total Addressable Market (TAM) expansion.
🔄 Supply Chain Evolution
With North America and Asia-Pacific leading in adoption, the Tool Balancer market’s supply chain—ranging from raw material procurement and precision manufacturing to global distribution—is expected to grow in complexity and resilience.
Challenges such as limited awareness in smaller markets and high upfront costs are being addressed through educational outreach, cost-competitive innovation, and after-sales support strategies.
🧠 About DataString Consulting
DataString Consulting delivers actionable market intelligence through tailored B2B and B2C research projects. With over 30 years of combined experience, our experts track and analyze fast-evolving segments across 15+ industries worldwide to help clients navigate strategic decisions with precision and confidence.
#Tool Balancer Market Forecast#Industrial Tool Balancers#Manufacturing Line Optimization Tools#Automotive Assembly Equipment#Ergonomic Lifting Solutions#Load Handling Equipment#Industrial Safety Tools#Assembly Line Support Devices#Warehouse Equipment Market#Smart Balancing Systems#DataString Market Insights#Global Manufacturing Tools Trends
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Kreate Technologies offers AI, ERP, GIS, EV Mobility, Data Analytics, and Demand load forecasting solutions. To Transform your business with technology experts.
#AI-Powered Energy Load Forecasting#AI#ERP#GIS#EV Mobility#Data Analytics#IT Services for Renewable Energy GCC#IT Solutions Provider in India
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also this thing (Helene) is fuckin huge wtffff
#I've been out of town so I haven't been able to follow this storm as closely as normal#but I got back home about an hour ago and was able to load up Ryan Hall and NWS radars and WTF this thing is massive#my part of Florida is no where near where the center of landfall is forecast to be but we will still feel some shit from this thing#like we're feeling the outer bands and the center of the storm is 400 miles away.. wtf#I'm hoping the prediction of rapid intensification is wrong bc but historical precedent isn't good#we're at that time of year where the longer this thing stays over the gulf the stronger it's gonna get :(#I'm never worried about the wind anymore#I know how to hide from wind#it's the water and surge that scares the fuck out of me and I've seen it up close#I pray everyone in the direct path and on a barrier island takes this seriously and gets out. Dont fuck with storm surge#they're predicting 10-20 ft of surge in the big bend area :( pls get out of there if ur there
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Driving Logistics Excellence With Integrations

We seamlessly integrate both legacy and modern systems; all EDI or non-EDI formats, fostering an operational framework that's streamlined, cost-effective, and transparent. With an emphasis on process optimization, we aim to significantly minimize errors, while maximizing ROI.
#demand planning in supply chain#eta logistical solutions#supply chain visibility solutions#real time supply chain visibility#end to end supply chain planning#data science for supply chain forecast#supply chain predictive analytics#edi in supply chain management#artificial intelligence for supply chain#container loading software#edi supply chain
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Multi-core Land High Voltage Underground Cable Market Overview, Demand, Key Players and Regional Outlook Study 2017 – 2032

The Multi-core Land High Voltage Underground Cable Market refers to the market for high voltage cables designed for underground power transmission and distribution systems, specifically those with multiple cores or conductors. The global Multi-core Land High Voltage Underground Cable market size is projected to grow from USD million in 2022 to USD million in 2029. Here is an overview, key trends, and points related to the demand in this market:
Overview:
Multi-core land high voltage underground cables are used for transmitting and distributing electrical power over long distances underground, connecting power generation sources to substations or delivering power to urban areas.These cables consist of multiple insulated conductors or cores bundled together within a common sheath, providing efficient power transmission and distribution.
Key Trends:
1. Renewable Energy Integration: The increasing integration of renewable energy sources, such as wind and solar power, necessitates the use of efficient underground transmission systems. Multi-core high voltage underground cables play a vital role in connecting renewable energy generation systems to the grid, enabling the integration of clean energy sources.
2. Grid Modernization and Smart Grids: As power grids are upgraded and modernized, there is a growing focus on smart grid technologies. Multi-core high voltage underground cables support the development of smart grids by facilitating advanced monitoring, control, and communication capabilities, enabling more efficient power transmission and distribution.
3. Urbanization and Infrastructure Development: Rapid urbanization and infrastructure development in various regions have driven the demand for reliable and efficient underground power transmission systems. Multi-core high voltage underground cables are particularly suitable for urban areas where space limitations and aesthetic considerations make underground installation preferable to overhead lines.
4. Enhanced Power Transmission Capacity: Multi-core cables allow for increased power transmission capacity due to their multiple conductors. This makes them suitable for applications where high power demands exist or where power transmission needs to be maximized within limited space.
Demand Drivers and Key Points:
• Increasing electricity demand: The rising global demand for electricity, driven by population growth and industrial development, fuels the need for efficient power transmission and distribution systems, including multi-core high voltage underground cables.
• Urbanization and space constraints: Underground installation of cables is favored in urban areas due to limited available space, aesthetic considerations, and the ability to mitigate visual impacts.
• Renewable energy integration: Multi-core high voltage underground cables support the integration of renewable energy sources by enabling the transmission of power generated from renewable sources to the grid.
• Grid resilience and reliability: Multi-core high voltage underground cables contribute to grid resilience by reducing vulnerability to weather events, improving reliability, and ensuring uninterrupted power supply.
• Government initiatives and regulations: Government policies promoting renewable energy, grid modernization, and underground power transmission drive the demand for multi-core high voltage underground cables.
We recommend referring our Stringent datalytics firm, industry publications, and websites that specialize in providing market reports. These sources often offer comprehensive analysis, market trends, growth forecasts, competitive landscape, and other valuable insights into this market.
By visiting our website or contacting us directly, you can explore the availability of specific reports related to this market. These reports often require a purchase or subscription, but we provide comprehensive and in-depth information that can be valuable for businesses, investors, and individuals interested in this market.
“Remember to look for recent reports to ensure you have the most current and relevant information.”
Click Here, To Get Free Sample Report: https://stringentdatalytics.com/sample-request/multi-core-land-high-voltage-underground-cable-market/6730/
Market Segmentations:
Global Multi-core Land High Voltage Underground Cable Market: By Company
• Prysmian Group
• Nexans
• Southwire
• Hengtong Group
• Furukawa Electric
• Sumitomo Electric Industries
• Qrunning Cable
• LS Cable & System
• Taihan Electric
• Riyadh Cable
• NKT Cables
Global Multi-core Land High Voltage Underground Cable Market: By Type
• HV
• EHV
Global Multi-core Land High Voltage Underground Cable Market: By Application
• Direct Current
• Alternative Current
Global Multi-core Land High Voltage Underground Cable Market: Regional Analysis
All the regional segmentation has been studied based on recent and future trends, and the market is forecasted throughout the prediction period. The countries covered in the regional analysis of the Global Multi-core Land High Voltage Underground Cable market report are U.S., Canada, and Mexico in North America, Germany, France, U.K., Russia, Italy, Spain, Turkey, Netherlands, Switzerland, Belgium, and Rest of Europe in Europe, Singapore, Malaysia, Australia, Thailand, Indonesia, Philippines, China, Japan, India, South Korea, Rest of Asia-Pacific (APAC) in the Asia-Pacific (APAC), Saudi Arabia, U.A.E, South Africa, Egypt, Israel, Rest of Middle East and Africa (MEA) as a part of Middle East and Africa (MEA), and Argentina, Brazil, and Rest of South America as part of South America.
Visit Report Page for More Details: https://stringentdatalytics.com/reports/multi-core-land-high-voltage-underground-cable-market/6730/
Reasons to Purchase Multi-core Land High Voltage Underground Cable Market Report:
• To obtain insights into industry trends and dynamics, including market size, growth rates, and important factors and difficulties. This study offers insightful information on these topics.
• To identify important participants and rivals: This research studies can assist companies in identifying key participants and rivals in their sector, along with their market share, business plans, and strengths and weaknesses.
• To comprehend consumer behaviour: these research studies can offer insightful information about customer behaviour, including preferences, spending patterns, and demographics.
• To assess market opportunities: These research studies can aid companies in assessing market chances, such as prospective new goods or services, fresh markets, and new trends.
• To make well-informed business decisions: These research reports give companies data-driven insights that they may use to plan their strategy, develop new products, and devise marketing and advertising plans.
In general, market research studies offer companies and organisations useful data that can aid in making decisions and maintaining competitiveness in their industry. They can offer a strong basis for decision-making, strategy formulation, and company planning.
About US:
Stringent Datalytics offers both custom and syndicated market research reports. Custom market research reports are tailored to a specific client's needs and requirements. These reports provide unique insights into a particular industry or market segment and can help businesses make informed decisions about their strategies and operations.
Syndicated market research reports, on the other hand, are pre-existing reports that are available for purchase by multiple clients. These reports are often produced on a regular basis, such as annually or quarterly, and cover a broad range of industries and market segments. Syndicated reports provide clients with insights into industry trends, market sizes, and competitive landscapes. By offering both custom and syndicated reports, Stringent Datalytics can provide clients with a range of market research solutions that can be customized to their specific needs
Contact US:
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Web - https://stringentdatalytics.com/
#Power Grid#Power Generation#Substation#Fault Current Capacity#Load Capacity#Insulation#Conductor Material#Conductor Type#Insulation Type#Voltage Rating#Current Rating#Conductor Diameter#Installation#Maintenance#Reliability#Durability#Market Analysis#Market Trends#Market Growth#Market Forecast#Competitive Landscape#Key Players#Industry Outlook.
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coffee shop fluff with ellie williams rahhh
pitter patter. the slosh of each step onto the sidewalk, the missteps into murky puddles during the drizzle, threatened to seep through your fuzzy socks and erase the last barrier between you and the storm above.
the forecast had promised sunshine—what a load of shit that was. a pleasant excursion into town with your best friend ellie had turned into a zig-zagging mad dash between stops, making the chill vibes more fickle as you tried to have fun while evading a sniveling cold. the day still managed to be something close to perfect. because, at the end of it all, you were with ellie.
seeking some reprieve from the onslaught of trickling rain, you both slipped into an equally busy coffee shop. despite all the action, you sighed in relief as the inside brought a coziness the foggy, slate-grey spring weather had not granted. it was a steady crowd—everyone else must have had the same idea, trying to escape the lousy weather.
“whatcha want?” you asked ellie, who was raking a hand through her auburn hair, now darkened to a deep chestnut from the rain.
“anything but coffee.”
“got it.”
you took ellie’s entirely too vague order and stepped ahead to the counter, purchasing yourself a latte and ordering the barista’s special recommendation of tea for ellie.
as you waited, elbow leaned against the corner of the countertop, your eyes wandered, quickly spotting ellie on the far side of the café. she’s holding what appears to be a comic, plucked from shelves that sat riddled with trinkets, purchasable knickknacks, and dime-a-dozen books. you quietly head her way.
“did you find the one comic in this café?” you asked, leering over her shoulder, eyeing the yellowed pages ellie was flipping through.
she snorted, barely sparing you a glance. “obviously.” she traded in the zine for her tea, taking it from you and blowing on the top to cool it down.
you and ellie made your way to a small circular table near the windowsill, watching the droplets trickle down the glass. it was peaceful, even if you were both wet as stray dogs at this point of the day.
“you know,” you started, initiating a random topic to keep the momentum going. “i don’t mind the city.”
ellie shrugged. the city didn’t seem to bring the same twinkle to her eye as it did to you. she leaned back in her chair, tapping her fingers idly against the side of her cup.
“eh. it’s a lot sometimes,” she admitted, “but… not bad if you know where to look.”
you nodded. “exactly.”
then you paused, sensing a layer underneath ellie’s words. your eyes narrowed mischievously as you leaned in slightly, like you were coaxing a secret out of her.
“wait. do you have some mystery spots you haven’t told me about?”
ellie shrugged again, her false coyness meant to taunt you, rile you up—her favorite pastime, it seemed. “dunno.”
you groaned, blowing on your drink to soothe yourself, taking a small sip before really grilling her.
“what are you talking about?”
ellie hummed noncommittally, slowly swirling her cup in her hand, acting as though the conversation wasn’t all that interesting. “wouldn’t you like to know.”
“ellie, you fucking suck.”
ellie merely smirked, clearly enjoying your weak attempt at prying an answer from her. she took a slow sip of her tea, looking entirely unbothered—maybe even a little smug—as you steeped in your frustration.
“if we were dating, i’d take you to all the best places…” she mused, her inflection practically begging you to cling to and make a deal of her teasing words. so you did. “what’s stopping you?” you fired back, playing along.
in your pride, you caught the way ellie visibly stiffened, her lips pressed to the rim of her cup, frozen mid-sip as if she might choke on your reply.
“…excuse me,” she muttered, a bit gruff, her eyes flicking toward you as if unsure whether to scoff or take you seriously.
“you heard me.” you mirrored her energy, wiggling your brows, acting as if the rising tension wasn’t threading through your every last nerve. there had been plenty of cheeky flirts and lingering touches before this titular moment with ellie—she was your pretty best friend. you’d be ‘down’ if she asked. but the possibility had never been quite so direct as this.
“mmmh, i’ll keep that in mind,” she replied, trying to sound stoic before finally taking that sip she wanted. you caught the quiver in her voice and the rose-petal blush on her cheeks, however, shining through the sheen of rain still clinging to her face and hair.
“nice.” you grinned, pleased with her words. “when can we start?”
“start what?” “dating. so you can show me those so-called best places..duh.” ellie finally, actually choked on her tea.
#literally forcing myself to post something bc the anxiety is killing me so pls be nice!#ellie williams#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x you#ellie williams fluff#ellie williams tlou2#ellie tlou2#ellie x reader#lesbian#the last of us 2#bloodstainedsapphic writing
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Her Turn Now - 2
Character: CEO!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Summary: Twin sisters. Opposite worlds. The eldest is a tough, no-nonsense soldier. The youngest is a quiet, hardworking corporate girl. They rarely meet—until the younger sister collapses from stress, hiding months of workplace bullying.
Furious and protective, the soldier twin trades places with her. Heels off, boots on. Now, the office has no idea what's coming.
She doesn’t play nice. She doesn’t play fair. And while she's serving justice in a pencil skirt, the ruthless CEO starts to take notice…
Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻
Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , -
Working in an office really doesn't suit you.
In battle, things are simple. When someone annoys you, you shut them up—with a fist or a boot to the face. Problem solved. But here?
Here, you’re surrounded by high heels, fake smiles, and the sharp click-clack of keyboards... and every single sound grates your nerves.
You grit your teeth, nails tapping against the desk, fists clenched under the table just to stop yourself from punching someone in the throat. You’ve only been here two hours, and already, you’re planning five different ways to commit corporate homicide.
Your respect for Levi just skyrocketed. Eight months she endured this hell? You can barely last one morning.
'Should you? Yes, you can.' 'Lock the door. Grab the stapler. Use the pencil. There are weapons everywhere.'
That little voice in your head sounds far too convincing. If it were the real you—Captain McCain—you’d be halfway through your rampage by now. But no. You're Levi now.
And if Levi McCain loses her cool? That delicate record she’s worked so hard to build will shatter.
Just then, a thick stack of papers lands on your desk with a loud thwack. You glance up. Some guy—you don’t even know his name—doesn’t look at you, just keeps walking like you’re invisible.
"What the hell is this?" you mutter under your breath.
Another assignment. Charts. Reports. Forecast analysis? You squint at the spreadsheet like it’s in another language. Honestly, it might as well be.
They're piling it on, testing you. You've been here two hours, and already they’ve dumped more work on your desk than a full week’s load.
You inhale slowly. Count to five. Calm. You’re supposed to be Levi. Quiet. Polite. Fragile. Yeah, right.
But you didn’t come into this unarmed. Oh no. You came with a secret weapon.
Thanks to Casey.
The night before your little infiltration mission, she handed you a sleek tablet loaded with a custom AI system she’s been tinkering with.
"You’re a genius in combat, boss. Not in spreadsheets," she said with a smirk. "I built this so you can focus on wrecking those bastards emotionally instead."
So while everyone else thinks you’re slaving over numbers, you're calmly sipping your coffee and letting Casey’s AI handle the data analysis.
Now, with zero hesitation, you lift the freshly completed reports and toss them right back at the guy’s desk with a smooth flick of your wrist.
He freezes, staring at the documents like you just performed black magic.
Around the office, heads start turning. Whispers ripple through the floor like electricity.
'How did she finish that so fast?' 'Wasn’t that supposed to take a day?' 'Did she make any mistakes?'
You lean back in your chair, legs crossed, eyes sharp. You don’t say a word. Just stare at them all like a predator in disguise.
Let them wonder. Let them whisper.
You’re just getting started.
You weren’t made for this world of polite requests and passive-aggressive comments—and you’re done pretending.
When someone dumps files on your desk and tells you to print them, you don’t even look up.
“Do it yourself. The printer’s right on your table.”
Another, bolder one strolls over, holding out a coffee order list.
“Buy some for the team, will you? Get that caramel thing we like.”
You raise a brow and don’t even break stride as you type, voice flat and sharp.
“Try Uber Eats. Or your own damn legs.”
They blink, stunned, as you go back to work like the conversation never happened.
Lunch hour can’t come fast enough. You head down to the building’s park—if you don’t get some air, you might actually kill someone.
You sit on the bench, arms crossed, legs tense. The sun is warm, but your mood is ice. Your jaw still clenched tight.
Then you hear it—laughter.
Voices carry across the grass. Familiar ones.
You glance to your left.
A group of men are huddled in the smoking area—coworkers from your department. Laughing, puffing away, basking in their own stink. You recognize the manager too.
You stay still. Listen.
One of them exhales smoke and scoffs.
“Can’t believe Levi came in today. What’s she trying to prove, showing up now?”
Another snickers.
“Yeah, like she belongs at the celebration. After everything? Please.”
The manager—Levi’s direct boss—chimes in, laughing low and mean.
“She probably thought we’d be happy to see her. Delusional.”
The first guy adds, “Well, no one tell her where we’re going tonight, alright?”
Another laughs. “As if she’s invited. The restaurant doesn’t take extras anyway.”
And then—what finally makes your blood boil—
“If she hadn’t flagged that budget error last quarter, we’d have had bigger bonuses. What a buzzkill. Should’ve just kept her mouth shut.”
Silence hits your chest like a gut punch.
Your hands ball into fists on your lap.
So that’s how they talk about her. About Levi. After all her quiet effort. Her eight months of biting her tongue, holding back, working herself into the ground.
You don’t move. You don’t breathe. You sit there until they finish their smokes and saunter off, laughing like nothing happened.
When they’re gone, you finally exhale—and realize your hands are trembling. One still clutches your phone.
You hit speed dial.
“Yeah, boss?” Casey answers, casual as always.
You look up at the sky. Your voice is calm. Too calm.
“Prepare a runaway car. Gloves. Face mask. And night vision goggles.”
Casey pauses.
“…Do you need a lawyer too?”
You let out a slow breath.
“I don’t think I’ll need it. But yeah, just in case.”
You hang up.
No more playing nice.
They wanted Levi to stay quiet. Big mistake. They got you instead.
💥💥💥💥
The restaurant was packed—but only with them. Levi’s entire department had booked the place for a night of fake smiles and undeserved celebration. Laughter rang loud. Glasses clinked. Wine flowed freely.
The manager, drunk on his own ego, stood up and raised his glass. “To us—the real backbone of this company!”
Cheers followed. Forced. Loud. Hollow.
Then— Darkness.
The lights went out without warning.
A beat of silence. Confused murmurs.
“Probably just for a while,” someone said, chuckling nervously.
Then— “Uhk!”
A rough, strangled sound.
“Sounded like a duck getting choked,” the manager joked, and the room erupted in laughter.
But the laughter didn’t last.
It was replaced by chaos.
A chair crashed to the floor. A plate shattered. A man screamed. Another was silenced mid-sentence by a punch to the gut.
One by one, they dropped.
No warning. No mercy. Male. Female. Coworker. Manager. None of them were spared.
They didn’t even see who hit them.
Fists, elbows, knees—precise and brutal. The air filled with the sound of bodies slamming into tables, glass crunching beneath shoes, and groans of disbelief.
The manager took the worst of it. A swift kick to the chest sent him straight into the dessert table. A metal tray slammed across his face. His hands scrambled for cover that didn’t exist.
By the end, the room was wrecked. People groaned and whimpered in the dark, crawling, gasping, too stunned to react.
Only one person walked out untouched.
Calm steps. Back straight. Breath steady. No fear. No remorse.
As you stepped past the broken chaos, your thoughts were razor-sharp.
'Karma takes her sweet time… So I gave her a hand.'
🏢🏢🏢🏢
The Next Morning
A sleek black sedan sat idling on the curb. The tinted windows reflected the city skyline, but inside, the air was tense.
In the back seat, Bucky Barnes—CEO, sharp-suited and sharp-jawed—sat in silence. His dark eyes were unreadable as he glanced out the window. His posture was relaxed, but his fingers drummed lightly against his thigh. A storm brewed behind that calm exterior.
“I thought you were joking when you called me,” Bucky finally said, voice low and cool.
He had just landed from London, where he’d been in talks with a major international partner. The time difference and chaos hadn’t fazed him—what did was the reason for the call.
Kyle, his vice president, sat beside him. Unlike Bucky, Kyle looked restless, flicking through files on his tablet.
“I wish it was a joke,” Kyle muttered. “But it’s real.”
Bucky scoffed, crossing his arms and leaning back. “If it is, then good.”
Kyle blinked. “Good? You’re joking, right? Twenty-nine people were admitted to the hospital last night.”
Bucky’s gaze didn’t waver. “Good. I've been trying to clean out that bloodsucking department for years. They're toxic, slow, and arrogant. Half of them think they run this company. Maybe now they'll shut up.”
Kyle pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oh god...”
Bucky raised a brow. “There were supposed to be thirty people, including the intern. Why is the count only twenty-nine?”
“One of them didn’t show up,” Kyle replied, swiping through his screen. “Or maybe she wasn’t invited. Probably the same one they suspected was being bullied.”
At that, Bucky’s face tightened.
“The bullied one?” His voice dropped, low and sharp. “And no one thought to warn me?”
Kyle nodded. “Yes. That’s what I was told.”
Bucky leaned forward, jaw clenched. “I’ve been asking H.R. for weeks for an update. They keep giving me the runaround. I don’t even know her name!”
“She canceled her statement,” Kyle said, tapping his tablet. “But this is the person who filed with H.R. before backing out.”
He handed Bucky the screen.
Bucky took one look at the photo—and froze.
His face went still. No words. Just quiet, cold fury building behind his eyes. His hand gripped the tablet a little too tightly.
Kyle watched carefully. “You okay?”
Bucky didn’t answer.
He just kept staring at the photo.
And in that silence, the air inside the car grew heavier.
He wasn’t just angry.
He was about to get involved.
🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢
Back at the office, you were the only one who came in.
The silence was almost peaceful. You hummed a light tune, your fingers dancing across the keyboard as you typed—line by line—a resignation letter.
It was time. Levi deserved better. A company that didn’t treat her like trash. Not this toxic circus masked as a professional environment.
You clicked ‘Print’, and just as the printer began to whir, your phone rang.
“Yeah, Mom?” you answered casually, leaning back in your chair.
Your mother’s voice was calm but firm. “Your sister told me everything”
You sighed. “I’ve handled it.”
“They cry in pain?”
“Choked in their tears,” you said with a smirk, watching the printer spit out the paper.
“Good.” A pause. “Do you need a lawyer? I have a lot of friends whose husbands are great lawyers.”
You chuckled. “No, Mom. Everything’s under control.”
“Good job, baby.”
"Is Dad at home?" you asked.
"He’s still on a trip with his friends," your mom replied.
"What if he finds out about Levi?"
"Only God knows, honey."
You picked up the resignation letter and glanced at Levi’s name at the top. “This will be my last day… or should I say, ‘Levi’s’ last day. I’ve already printed the resignation letter.”
“No, dear! Don’t give the letter,” your mother said suddenly.
You paused, frowning. “Why not?”
“Because—”
She didn’t finish.
You froze mid-step.
Two figures walked into the department.
You turned your head slowly, eyes widening as you saw who it was.
Your hand, still holding the letter, trembled slightly.
Of all people…
'What the hell are you doing here?'
*****
Yesterday, at the McCain House
The black SUV rolled quietly into the driveway. The engine cut off, and the passenger door opened. Ortiz stepped out first, then turned to help Levi out of the car. Her movements were slow, stiff. Casey gently supported her from the other side, guiding her carefully as if she might break.
Levi squinted at the familiar front porch, her expression puzzled.
“Why did you bring me here?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Ortiz exchanged a glance with Casey before replying, “Captain said staying in the city would only stress you out more. The doctor agreed.”
Before Levi could respond, the sound of laughter echoed from inside the house—warm, bright, and unmistakably familiar. As they stepped through the front door, they saw Elle McCain, Levi’s mother, laughing with two of her friends in the sitting room.
Elle's eyes widened when she spotted her daughter.
“Levi? Honey?” she asked in surprise, setting her teacup down and rising to her feet.
Levi offered her mother a tired smile. “Hi, Mom. I just need some rest. We’ll talk later.” She didn’t wait for a reply and slowly made her way upstairs.
Elle blinked, clearly confused by her daughter’s sudden arrival and unusual demeanor. Her gaze shifted to the two people standing in the doorway.
“Ortiz. Casey.” Her tone softened, recognizing them instantly. “You two again. Have you eaten any home-cooked food since you got back?”
Both of them stood straighter. “No, ma’am,” they answered in unison.
“There’s pork ribs, mashed potatoes, peach cobbler, and iced tea in the kitchen,” Elle said with a knowing smile.
The moment she listed the food, both Ortiz and Casey's stomachs practically growled in unison.
“Thank you, ma’am!” they said quickly and hurried off toward the kitchen.
Elle waited patiently until her friends left later that evening. Once the house was quiet again, she climbed the stairs and gently knocked on Levi’s door. No response. She opened it slowly and stepped inside.
Levi was curled up on the bed, wrapped tightly in a blanket pulled over her head like a cocoon. The only thing visible was the slight rise and fall of her shoulders as she breathed.
Elle walked to the bed and sat on the edge, then carefully pulled the blanket down from Levi’s face.
The sight broke her heart.
Levi’s face was pale and gaunt. Her cheeks were hollow, her eyes sunken. Her once-vibrant presence was now drained and brittle.
“My daughter…” Elle whispered, her voice catching. “What happened to you?”
Levi turned her head away, unable to meet her mother’s eyes.
Elle placed a hand on Levi’s shoulder, gentle but firm. “Does your sister know? Is that why her friends brought you here?”
Levi gave a slow nod, her eyes brimming with tears.
Elle stood abruptly. “Fuck,” she muttered under her breath. “Who did this to you?”
Levi hesitated, then whispered, “It’s a long story.”
Elle crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve got all night.”
Levi sighed, knowing she couldn’t avoid this. So she began to speak. Slowly at first, then all at once. She told her mother everything—what she endured at the company, how the bullying escalated, how she lost weight, sleep, confidence. How she tried to tough it out. And how her sister—impulsive, fearless—took matters into her own hands.
It took Elle a long moment to fully grasp it all.
“So... your sister is pretending to be you. She’s working at the company. In your place.”
Levi nodded again.
Elle’s expression darkened. “Good. Let them taste hell.”
“Mom…” Levi said gently.
Elle sat down again beside her daughter. “Honey, you’re a smart kid. Why the hell did you stay in that toxic place for so long?”
“That place gave me a lot of benefits,” Levi murmured. “And I had a friend there…”
Elle narrowed her eyes. “A friend? You stayed because of someone?”
Levi nodded slowly. “I wanted to work beside him.”
Elle’s voice lowered. “Who is this person?”
Levi hesitated, her voice trembling just slightly. “He’s…”
*****
Back to the present time…
You froze.
The two figures who stepped into the department caught you mid-sentence with your mother. You slowly lowered your phone, your eyes widening in disbelief.
Standing there was someone you hadn’t seen in years—but you'd recognize him anywhere. Tall, sharp-featured, with piercing blue eyes and hair swept back like he always used to wear it.
James Buchanan Barnes.
He stepped closer, concern etched into every line of his face.
“Levi?” His voice was softer now—gentler than you remembered. “I’m sorry I’m too late. Are you alright?”
You swallowed, trying to steady your voice. “Yeah… yeah.”
But you weren’t. Not really.
Your heart pounded in your chest like it was trying to break free. You hadn't seen Bucky in what felt like a lifetime. Not since high school. And back then, you and Levi had shared more than just the same face—you shared the same crush.
You both liked the same food—steak medium rare with garlic butter. You listened to the same music—acoustic rock. You even loved the same person.
James Buchanan Barnes.
Bucky looked at you—really looked. “I should’ve found out sooner,” he said, his jaw tightening. “I had no idea what was going on in this department. The H.R. covered it up… and the manager too. They knew we knew each other. That’s why they hid it.”
You blinked. “You knew?”
“I recognized your name the first time it landed on my desk,” he admitted. “But I thought maybe I was just imagining things. Until Kyle told me what really happened.”
You nodded slowly, trying to gather your thoughts. Of course Levi never wanted to quit. Was it because… of him?
Your chest tightened.
Bucky took a breath and stepped closer. “You don’t have to work in this department anymore. Starting today, you’ll be my assistant.”
That’s when your heart really started to race.
It beat so fast, you were sure Bucky could hear it. Was this what it felt like… meeting your long-time crush again after all these years?
But it wasn’t your name he’d said with such warmth. It was Levi’s.
You weren’t just standing in someone else’s department. You were standing in someone else’s shoes. And it hit you harder than you expected.
You swallowed down the sudden tightness in your chest. Why did your chest feel tight? It was just a high school crush—a long time ago.
You glanced down, trying to hide the flush creeping up your neck.
‘Alright, Levi…’ you thought. ‘I’ll stay. I’ll hold the door open for you—so you can finally be with Bucky.’
My book Arrogant Ex-Husband and Dad, I Can't Let You Go by Alina C. Bing are on Kindle. Check it out!
Link for Arrogant Ex-Husband
Amazon.com
Link for Dad I Can't Let You Go
Amazon.com: Dad, I Can't Let You Go eBook : Bing, Alina C.: Kindle Store
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Revolutionizing Energy Forecasting: Celebal Technologies' Industrial Intelligence Solution
The energy sector is undergoing a significant transformation, driven by sustainability goals, cost optimization, and the need for increased resilience. In this dynamic landscape, industrial intelligence, a powerful combination of advanced analytics and artificial intelligence (AI), emerges as a game-changer. Celebal Technologies' Industrial Intelligence solution, featuring the Power & Utility Forecasting Framework (PUFF), empowers stakeholders with unparalleled forecasting capabilities across the entire energy and sustainability spectrum.
PUFF: Unleashing the Power of Precision Forecasting
PUFF goes beyond traditional forecasting solutions by offering a comprehensive and interconnected view. It delivers granular forecasts for various critical categories, including:
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Generation forecasting: Renewable energy sources like solar and wind are inherently variable. PUFF helps predict their generation patterns, enabling a more balanced and reliable energy mix.
Price forecasting: Accurately forecasting energy prices allows market participants to make informed decisions about buying and selling electricity. PUFF analyzes complex market trends and factors to predict price fluctuations.
Weather forecasting: Weather plays a significant role in energy demand. PUFF seamlessly integrates external weather data, further enhancing the precision of all its forecasts.
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Data integration is the fuel that drives industrial intelligence. PUFF excels in this area by:
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Automated Data Cleaning: Data quality is paramount for accurate forecasts. PUFF employs automated data cleaning techniques to ensure the integrity of the data used for analysis.
Multivariate Data Exploration: PUFF goes beyond analyzing individual data points. It explores the relationships between various data sets, uncovering hidden patterns and providing a more holistic view of the energy landscape.
Automatic Weather Data Acquisition: Weather data is crucial for accurate forecasting. PUFF automatically acquires weather data from reliable sources, eliminating manual intervention and ensuring consistent data flow.
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Celebal Technologies: Empowering You with an Intuitive and Secure Solution
Celebal understands the importance of user experience and security. PUFF boasts the following features to ensure a smooth and secure forecasting experience:
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#Power forecasting#utility forecasting#industrial intelligence#energy forecasting#energy sector#load forecasting#sustainability sector#generation forecasting#price forecasting#Data Integration#weather forecasting#Celebal technologies#PUFF#Power & Utility Forecasting Framework
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New Mods For Seasons
🎀 Two early accesses and one free mod to celebrate this seasonal time in your Sims game! I'm grateful to share my happy moments with you guys this year.
~
⭐NEW: Weather Lot Challenges
⏩ A bundle of 42 Lot Challenges to cheat the weather of the current Lot, regardless of the natural weather forecast, worlds, or seasons.
This mod does not override any game tunings, and it works with my other weather mods!
🆗 Compatible with all my other mods and traits.
🧩 Requires EP05 Seasons Expansion Pack
👉 Gameplay Effects of Weather Lot Challenges
These Lot Challenges affect the weather immediately as soon as the Lot is loaded with your Sim on it, and the effects will stay even when the Sim is off the lot until you remove the Lot Challenges.
They are supposed to be used as cheats for storytelling, easier gameplay, taking screenshots, etc. You are recommended to remove the Lot Challenges from the Lot when you no longer need them so that it won't interfere with your normal gameplay.
Since a Sims world shares the same climate, giving multiple Weather Lot Challenges to different Lots of the same worlds and loading those Lots will cause the weather to switch rapidly.
👑 Mod Info HERE
🧡 Download HERE NOW!!!
Public Access: Jan 16
~
⭐NEW: Snowy Worlds
⏩ This mod disrespects geography and makes all worlds (except Batuu and secret locations) snowy in winter.
🤗You can pick what worlds to snow!🤗
This overrides the region tuning and weatherForcastList tuning of those worlds to make the snow fall and accumulate. Please ensure you have no conflicted mods that are editing these game tunings.
🆗 Compatible with all my other mods. Works well with my Nice Climate Mod!!!
🧩 Requires EP05 Seasons and the packs tagged on each package!!!
💘 List of Worlds now have Snowy Winter:
Pick and install only the worlds you have!!!
Ciudad Enamorada_EP16: Lovestruck
Del Sol Valley_EP06: Get Famous
Oasis Springs_BG
Ravenwood_EP17: Life & Death
San Sequoia_EP13: Growing Together
Selvadorada_GP06: Jungle Adventure
Stranger Ville_GP07: StrangerVille
Sulani_EP07: Island Living
Tartosa_GP11: My Wedding Stories
Tomarang_EP15: For Rent
👑 Mod Info HERE
🧡 Download HERE NOW!!!
Public Access: Jan 16
~
⭐NEW: Nice Climate Mod
⏩ This mod lowers the chance of bad weather like blizzards, heat waves, and thunderstorms.
🆗 Compatible with all my other mods. Works well with my Snowy Worlds!!!
🧩 Requires EP05 Seasons Expansion Pack
👑 Mod Info HERE
🎁 Download HERE (Free)
Have a nice and warm holiday season!
🔆 Changelog in December 2024 HERE
🔹 Links to ALL My Traits, Game Mods, and CCs
🔹List of IDs for creators who want to refer my traits to their own mods
🔹 List of Chingyu’s CC Traits Name and Descriptions for mod users
🔹 Check Mod Status after a patch & Compatibilities
👁🗨 Learn how to install a mod & FAQs
👁🗨 Terms of Use
👁🗨 Ask Questions/ Suggestions/ Bug Reports on Discord
▶ I need to see a screenshot or LE report to help you figure out what’s wrong!
👁🗨 Download on my Patreon
👁🗨 Follow me on Twitter
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suna rintarou x f!reader — 18+ only, 1.3k, piss kink, fingering, unprotected p in v, creampie, roommate!suna, perv!suna, based on this drabble
Rintarou wants to laugh at the irony of it—what’s currently staring back at him from your laptop screen.
He covers the bottom half of his face, hot breath curling against his palm as he lets out a ragged exhale of disbelief.
The thing is, he’s found plenty of things that have left his cock twitching eagerly with interest since he adopted this fucked up habit of perusing your incriminating porn tabs of choice whenever you forget to close out your silly little incognito browser window.
It’s like a game of roulette, the way his thumb hovers over the touchpad before clicking over to the next tab to see what else could have possibly contributed to draining your vibrator battery last night.
Spitting in her mouth!!!
Anal sex (no lube just SPIT)
I choked him and he came untouched??
If Rintarou was a good roommate and friend, he would have immediately closed the browser window full of filthy porn tabs the first time he went to borrow your laptop and found them staring back at him.
hot wet messy snowballing
Edging her till she’s begging for it (three orgasms)
Or at the very least, he wouldn’t have made a goddamn habit of it.
FIRST TIME SQUIRTER HUGE MESS!!!!!
But it's been fun, all of these little discoveries. The things he’s learned about you through clicks and keystrokes. Because Rin’s seen the guys you’ve brought home before—
—and he’ll bet his own goddamn balls that none of them has ever grabbed your face and made out with you after busting a hot load of cum in your pretty mouth.
Amateurs.
But this—
This.
This is…
Rintarou weakly rubs his fingers over his eyes, like it’ll somehow change the one and only tab that was waiting for him on your screen today.
And in the back of his mind, idly, he wonders if you closed out all the rest and forgot to dispose of this final piece of evidence.
Or if this video alone was enough to get you off that quickly—
(And it’s dangerous, that thought.)
He slowly closes your laptop.
—-
Rintarou’s calm, mature decision to turn over a new leaf and stop fucking his fist like a pervert to the knowledge of what gets you off lasts approximately four and a half minutes.
Four and a half minutes, and he’s in his room with his boxers discarded somewhere between the bed and the door, flushed, leaking cock gripped tightly in his fist.
Two strokes and his balls are already seizing up.
Suna Rintarou’s dick is twitching between his fingers on a hair trigger—
and you—
you—
—you have a piss kink.
His mind is already far beyond the memory of the two faceless participants in the video you’d been watching. Miles and miles past SHE PISSED ON MY DICK (huge cumshot!!).
Rin doesn’t give a single fuck about whatever else he missed out on in the remaining five minutes of the video that he promptly closed out of.
Because all he can think about is you.
You and those flowy sundresses you like to wear as soon as a hint of warm weather hits the forecast.
You and those lacy little white panties that you sometimes forget in the corner on the bathroom floor after showering.
You and your abysmally small bladder.
Rintarou’s mind is caught in a hazy fantasy, one that finds two of you making out in his bed. You’re wearing that yellow dress that he really likes, and the thin material slips up your thighs like butter when he grasps your waist and pulls you on top of him.
Your lips slide against his, soft moans slipping up your throat as you straddle him, his sweatpants doing absolutely nothing to obscure the sheer amount of blood that’s rushed to his cock in the time since the two of you hit the mattress.
And then you giggle, murmuring something shyly against his lips about how wait, wait, you have to pee.
Logically, because you live together and you share a bathroom and Rin knows you, he should offer you a slightly dramatic, put-out sigh, hands resting behind his head as he waits for you to return.
But Rin’s so goddamn hard and your cunt feels so warm grinding against him, even through your underwear. And he honestly doesn’t really care about these sheets or this mattress.
Rintarou doesn’t give a fuck about much of anything besides the thought of how it wouldn’t just be warm, but hot if you—
“Just go.”
You laugh, gentle and amused. Like he’s joking.
Like he didn’t just ask you to piss on him.
“Rin—”
He pushes up the skirt of your dress, exposing those white panties and the obvious wet spot of arousal that’s already soaked through the material that hugs your swollen folds.
You blink down at him, breath hitching in your throat.
“Rin, I really have to—”
He brushes a finger down your slit, featherlight, not missing the full-body shiver that courses through you.
You whine.
Hooking a finger in your panties, he tugs them aside to expose your cunt.
“You have to what?” he asks calmly, pressing his thumb into the puffy, throbbing button of your clit.
You exhale silently, eyes falling shut for a moment like it’s taking everything in your power to keep holding it in.
“I have to pee.”
Rintarou uses his free hand to push down his sweatpants and boxers, letting his cock spring free. He stares up at you.
“Prove it.”
Your eyes go a little wide, bottom lip getting caught between the trap of your teeth as your thighs tremble slightly.
“I can’t—”
Rin traces your fluttering entrance with the pad of his middle finger, and your hips stutter as you bite back a moan.
“Why not?”
He slides a finger in, and fuck, fuck, fuck you’re so wet for him.
Your pussy clenches around the digit.
“We’re in your bed. It’ll…it’ll make a mess…”
Rin smiles, because this is just some fucked up fantasy he conjured, and he can buy a hundred goddamn beds for you to piss all over if he wants to.
“And?”
Two fingers.
“Rin I’m—”
A warm trickle slides down his knuckles. He slowly pumps in and out of your pussy.
“Do it.”
More drips out.
He pulls his fingers out of you and rests his palm flat over your bladder.
“Oh—”
Rin pushes down at the same moment that he slides his hard cock lengthwise down your wet slit.
And all at once, you release.
Hot piss floods out of you, spraying all over his cock.
And Rintarou groans, gasping at the sensation, at the feeling of it coating his cock and dripping down his balls.
You’re still pissing when you start grinding your cunt against his dick again, desperately, frantically, whining like you’re about to—
You come hard, shaking and sobbing his name against his chest, and Rin’s already halfway to stroking his piss soaked cock to his own completion when you gasp, “Fuck me, Rin. Fuck me. Please fuck me.”
It’s obscene how wet you are, how easily he pumps his cock right into your dripping hole. Rin flips you over onto your back, fucking into your pussy with uneven, shallow strokes because it’s all he can manage before blowing his load.
And because Rin’s a filthy pervert—
“That’s all?” you weakly laugh into his shoulder as he collapses against you afterward, softening cock still nestled in your cunt.
Rin mouths at your collarbone.
“Just say it if you want it.”
You sigh.
“Rin.”
Hand drifting to the base of his cock, he rubs his fingers against the place where it meets your fucked out folds.
He lets out the slightest dribble, just enough to have you gasp with awareness.
“Rin please.”
He shifts, mouth slotting against your lips, tongue lazily sliding into your mouth as a hot flood of piss floods your cunt.
(You’re a filthy, wet, needy mess of cum and piss when he’s finished finger fucking you over the edge of another orgasm.)
–
Rintarou wakes up to the sound of the heavy front door to the apartment closing, your shoes clicking across the laminate flooring down the entryway.
His hands are sticky with dried cum, sweatpants damp and soaked through with more than just his seed as they cling to his thighs.
He's already hard again.
"Fuck."
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For Good News, Read Front
(Frankie "Catfish" Morales x F!Reader)
CW: Mostly fluff; some crude language.
Word Count: 3313
AN: This was requested by the lovely @justreblogginfics for the April Showers event!
Civilian life hasn’t been kind to Frankie Morales.
Addiction, divorce. Nearly bankrupted dealing with both. He only sees his little girl half of the time, and each time he drops her off at her mom’s house, he feels like he’s been lanced through the heart. He lives alone in a shitty apartment, and if it wasn’t for his job, he might go entire days without seeing or speaking to other people.
More immediately, though, he hasn’t been taking care of himself. He’s lost the rigor of military life. He’s put on some weight and barely exercises. According to his annual physical, he’s got high blood pressure, high cholesterol.
He wouldn’t care so much except for his daughter. He wouldn’t bother if it was just for himself. The thought of checking out early and not being there for her big moments—graduations, marriage, whatever—is enough to spur him to action.
He eats better, or tries to. He cuts most of the red meat. He cuts much of the mindless beer drinking he does at night in front of the TV. He takes a multivitamin each morning.
He starts running for the exercise.
At first, it’s pathetic. He’s winded almost immediately, his knees ache, and his muscles burn. What happened to the Frankie who breezed through Basic Training? What happened to the young buck who could hoover down four cheeseburgers and run with a loaded rucksack like it was nothing?
He got old, Frankie thought. He got old and used up and left behind.
But it gets easier. The running gets easier. He starts to chew up miles on his long runs. He wears out a pair of shoes and needs another. He buys a stupid reflective vest so he can go out early mornings and run to race the sunrise. As the running gets easier, so do other things: he sleeps better, breathes better. His mood improves marginally.
Maybe civilian life can work after all.
-----
He still makes stupid choices all the time.
Like this evening: the weather forecast showed rainstorms. He checked it three times, but he still laced up his running shoes, queued up a playlist, and left his apartment. In a surge of unfounded confidence, he figured he could outrun the weather.
Frankie figured wrong.
He’s almost exactly as far from home as he can be when the skies open up. His favorite running route takes him into a quiet neighborhood full of old Florida-style homes with rambling lawns and big trees. It’s usually charming, but now? In the middle of a rainstorm that is increasingly dangerous—thunder rolls overhead, lightning cracks in the distance—it’s foreboding. The light in the sky takes on a pearl grey cast, washing everything in a funereal pall.
Sheets of rain soak him in seconds. He turns around, pounds back down the street, his waterlogged sneakers squelching with each stride. His clothes cling to him uncomfortably, and a moment later, his phone dies, his playlist cutting off mid-song.
Then a bolt of lightning splits the sky in front of him—way too close for comfort—and Frankie knows he has to find cover.
He thinks of who he knows nearby. He comes up short when he goes through the obvious: Pope is somewhere in South America, both Benny and Will are on the other side of town in the opposite direction. Frankie has a cousin nearby, he thinks, but then he remembers that she moved to Virginia last year, according to his mother. He doesn’t know where any of his coworkers live, or anyone from his NA meetings—
The only person he can think of is you. He’s only met you a handful of times, one of those flimsy acquaintances situations. You were friends with a girl that Benny was dating a while back, and you had come to some of the group hangouts with her. You had been quiet, hung at the margins like Frankie, and the two of you had shared some pleasantries. Not enough to be friends, but you had also hosted a cookout a few summers back and invited the guys, so Frankie remembers where you live. Nearby, thankfully.
It'll have to be enough, those handful of paltry conversations he shared with you. Hopefully you’re home. Hopefully you’ll answer the door to the near-stranger soaking wet on your porch.
It’s Frankie’s lucky day, it turns out. You are home, and you do open your door to him, first with a look of puzzlement, then with a bemused smile as you usher him inside.
-----
“I’d offer you a shower, but you probably shouldn’t since there’s lightning,” you tell him.
He’s standing in your kitchen, dripping all over your tiled floor. You hand him a towel and watch him, that smile curving your lips as you watch him dry off as best as he can.
He’s also interrupted your cozy evening in. You’re already in pajamas, contacts out and glasses perched on your nose. The TV in the other room is paused, and the screen shows what looks to be a period drama of some sort. The entire house has the warm scent of something delicious recently baked, and when Frankie glances over at the counter, he sees a pan of brownies cooling.
“I appreciate this,” he replies. “Sorry to bust up your evening.”
“No worries. It’s just solo movie night.”
“Good weather for it.”
You chuckle. “Certainly better than going for a jog.”
Frankie smiles. “I thought I could outrun it.”
You smile back at him, then shift your gaze over his shoulder and to the window. The storm is only picking up in intensity; the smaller trees bend in the wind, and rain comes in sideways with each gust.
“I’d also offer to drive you home, but I’m not good at driving in bad weather,” you say, the smile ceding to a grimace. “I’m kind of a baby about it.”
“Or you’re just sensible,” he counters.
He runs the towel over his head. Instead of being soaked, now he’s uncomfortably wet—his clothes stick to him, and he feels clammy and gross.
“I could call Will, maybe.”
Frankie shakes his head. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, which was already outdated and nearing its end of life. “I don’t have his number memorized.”
“Maybe Benny?” You pause. “Though since he dumped Emma, I’ve been sworn as his enemy. You’d have to keep it on the down low.”
“I don’t have his number memorized either.”
There’s an uncomfortable beat of silence, then Frankie says, “if I could just wait out the worst of the storm…if I could just even sit on your porch and not bother—”
You cut him off. “Of course you can hunker down here. Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I don’t wait to ruin your evening—”
You cut him off again. “You aren’t. Solo movie night is flexible on the ‘solo’ bit.” You gesture to the pan of brownies behind him. “There’s plenty of snacks to go around.”
Frankie should feel bad, but now that you’re in motion, he doesn’t quite have the time to sink into any bad feelings: you snatch the soaked towel from his hands, and you take his elbow lightly and lead him down the hallway to your bathroom. You push him gently inside, then pivot to snag some fresh towels from the linen closet. You toss those at him, and the entire sequence happens so fast that he blinks in surprise.
“Go ahead and dry off,” you tell him. “I think I have some clothes that will fit you. I can run your wet stuff through the dryer.”
“You’re sure you—” he starts to say, but you’re already closing the door on him, giving him privacy, and he hears you padding down the hallway away from him.
It’s only a few minutes later that you knock on the door again. He opens it—still fully clothed—and you’re standing there with spare clothes for him.
“Okay, so you won’t get style points,” you say. “But these should fit you.”
Frankie makes sure to look you in the eyes when he thanks you. He wants you to know he’s appreciative. You didn’t have to let him into your house at all, yet here you are, clothing him, offering to feed him, and you don’t really even know him beyond the handful of conversations you had at group events.
“I appreciate it,” he says. “I owe you one.”
You wave that off. “No worries. Dry off, get changed. The washer and dryer are off the kitchen. You can throw your wet stuff in, then we can relax and wait out the storm.”
-----
Frankie has questions.
Firstly, there’s the grey sweatpants. Obviously men’s sweatpants. Obviously they belonged to some guy, though Frankie has only ever known you to be single. He knows that sometimes women keep their guy’s shirts after a breakup because they are typically bigger and cozier, but he can’t picture you wearing these sweatpants yourself. You’d be swimming in them—yet they seem to be lovingly preserved, scented faintly of fabric softener, and folded neatly when you hand them over.
Secondly, there’s the t-shirt.
It’s big, and while it’s clearly been worn, it’s not worn. It’s a joke t-shirt, obviously, but Frankie is dying to know the context behind it.
The back of the shirt reads “For good news, read front.”
When Frankie flips it over, he is startled by the laugh that it draws from him. It reads, “Big dick is back in town,” and an unsubtle red arrow underneath the text points downward.
So Frankie has questions.
-----
“Okay, so the t-shirt is from a bachelorette party,” you tell him around bites of brownie. The two of you are on the couch, and the tray of brownies is between you. There’s also a bottle of Merlot, which Frankie would have never thought of, but it pairs really well with the brownies.
The movie plays on the TV, but it’s long forgotten: first, from laughing at him when he emerges from the bathroom, then from his barrage of questions that you answer diligently.
“The maid of honor got us all joke t-shirts, and we had to do a blind pull from a bag. That’s the one I got,” you continue.
“And you had to wear it out in public?” he asks, incredulous.
You nod. “In Vegas too.”
“Brutal.”
“Could’ve been worse. One girl pulled a t-shirt that looked like a concert shirt with dates and locations on the back, right? But the front read ‘Chlamydia World Tour 2008.’”
It’s strange how easily the formality between the two of you melted away. It’s probably just the perfect blend of elements: the raging storm outside, the coziness inside, the wine and sugar, the ridiculousness of Frankie’s outfit. You each sit turned towards each other on the couch, far closer than Frankie’s been to you before, but it feels natural. It feels nice, in fact, to be with someone like this—comfortable, joking.
And maybe a hint of flirting.
Frankie takes another sip of wine. “So was it?” he asks.
“Was what?”
“Was it back in town?”
It takes you a beat, but then you get it. Your laugh—Frankie’s never really heard it, he guesses, but it’s delightful and contagious, makes him chuckle along with you.
“Obviously,” you reply. “When big dick comes back to town, you even go to the effort of printing up a shirt about it.”
Frankie could get used to this, he thinks. He likes how easy it feels to talk to you, and he really likes the glint you get in your eye when he makes the joke. He never really noted you before, when you turned up to group events, but Frankie never really noted anyone back then. He was too busy trying to stay afloat in his life.
“Makes me wonder where big dick goes when it’s not in town,” he muses.
“I have to imagine it’s like a carnival. Goes town to town.”
“Winters in Florida when it’s cold.”
“And like a real carnival, when you know it’s in town, you’re excited to go see it, but also a little scared because you just know everything about it is under the table and off the books.”
Frankie laughs. “Big dick can’t be regulated.”
You laugh too, and you swallow down the rest of the wine in your glass. “Nor should it be. Big dick deserves to run free.”
There’s a hundred different, filthy things Frankie could say to that. Maybe you have the same thought because you glance at him, catch his eye, then look away. And maybe he’d drop one of those filthy lines on you if he knew you better, but suddenly he feels like he’s behind with you—that he should have taken advantage of all those group hangouts to get to know you better.
“What about these?” he asks instead, gesturing broadly to the sweatpants he’s wearing. “Another bachelorette thing?’
The story of the sweatpants is sadder, but more revealing to your history. The atmosphere turns a shade more somber: the sweatpants belonged to your ex-husband.
“I didn’t know you were married,” Frankie says.
You shake your head. “I haven’t been, for a long time now. We married young and divorced young.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It happened. It’s old news.” You shrug, but Frankie can see you turning a bit sad, maybe introspective.
It’s a chance to build a connection. Frankie nods knowingly; he knows this sort of pain.
“Still hurts though,” he tells you.
Another shrug, but you look at him like you’re considering him in another light. You make the connection. “Yeah, that’s right,” you reply. “You’ve been through it too, huh?”
“Two years since it was finalized.”
You settle deeper against the back of the couch. “How are you doing?”
The question warms him. No one ever asks him how he is. Pope, the Millers…they have a unique closeness that comes with being brothers-in-arms, but they don’t ever probe each other’s lives or feelings. They check in with each other, but they suffer in silence.
“I’m okay,” he replies.
You narrow your eyes. “You sure?”
“I’m sure.” He smiles, and he reaches for the bottle of wine on the coffee table. He pours you another glass, and he tops his own off too. “It’s only tough with my daughter. Not seeing her every day, you know?”
It warms him even more, how you nod sympathetically but then encourage him to talk about his little girl—you ask a ton of questions about her, and Frankie finds himself suddenly chatty, talkative, his free hand not wrapped around the stem of his wine glass gesturing as he relates stories about his daughter, and you laugh at the funny stories, coo at the cute ones.
The evening cedes into night. The hours melt away like nothing. The movie on the TV ends, and the streaming app switches automatically to some reality show about rich people on boats, but you and Frankie talk. You break away to pull together a dinner cobbled from what you have on hand: grilled cheese, a salad of mixed greens. Then you both settle back on the couch with another bottle of wine, and the hours unspool into the early morning. Frankie doesn’t even notice because he’s too busy marveling at how easy, how unexpected this all is.
He only wanted a moment of shelter from the storm—which has gentled down into a light, steady rain. What he got was dry clothes, good food and drink, and better conversation. He considers it a gift, this moment: he’s gotten this chance to know you better, and he finds that you’re someone he wants to know. Someone he wants to count as a friend, and he can see a future where he might want to count you as someone more.
You’re the one who cracks first. You yawn, and it makes you check your phone.
“Shit, it’s late.” You run your hands over your face and look at him. “You wanna just crash here for the night?”
“I don’t want to put you out.”
You smile and glance at his chest, say “Big dick never puts me out,” and it takes Frankie a too-long beat to remember what he’s wearing. It’s embarrassing that for a too-long moment, he thinks you’re blatantly coming onto him. He gapes at you before he catches on, but then he flushes because you are flirting.
He flushes too because you realize exactly what he’s thinking. “You forgot about the shirt for a moment, huh?” you ask.
“I did!”
You laugh, and you stand up. You stretch a little, twist at the waist to unkink some tightness in your back, and then you look down at him.
“The couch is pretty comfortable. You okay with that?”
He nods. “You sure I’m not putting you out?”
Another laugh. “I think you probably worry too much, Frankie.” You disappear for a moment, then come back with pillows and blankets.
“I can drive you home in the morning,” you offer. “Whenever you need to be back.”
Frankie takes the bedding from you, and the moment has a charge of intimacy: you’re standing close together, separated only by an armful of blankets and pillows. The rain drums steady outside, it’s dark and late, and it feels like you’re the only two people awake in the world at the moment.
And he hasn’t felt this good in a while. Usually, an evening of nonstop talking would leave him drained, his social battery low, but this is different somehow. He feels like he’s peeled back a layer of himself, exposed an inner bit of himself to you, and it doesn’t horrify him at all. It makes him feel seen. Conversely, he feels like he knows you far better now, and he doesn’t want any of these good feelings to evaporate when the sun rises.
“Can I take you out for breakfast?” he asks. He drops his voice in volume, reluctant to break the spell of friendly intimacy that’s been woven. “There’s a really good cafe if we take the scenic route to my place.”
You seem to misunderstand him. “Oh, you don’t owe me anything,” you say.
In his civilian life, Frankie has often played it too close to the vest. He’s let life carry him along, too passive with things both big and small. He’s let thing happen to him rather than trying to drive the direction of his life.
He knows this moment can tip either way. He can let the chance pass, and you can go back to being just someone he knows, someone he passed a pleasant evening with while a storm raged outside.
Or he could lean into his Delta Force days, maybe just a little. He can be decisive. He can be clear in his objective.
“No,” he replies, shaking his head. “I’d like to take you out.”
Your reaction is enough to bolster him. First you say, “oh” and blink at him, but then you smile and add, “I’d like that.”
-----
Frankie never seems to sleep very well, but you are right: your couch is comfortable, and the sound of the rain soothes him too. He finds himself dropping right off, his sleep deep and restful.
His last thought before he does, though, is I can’t wait for morning.
And then it is morning, dawn about to break and the sky a pearly grey. Frankie stands up and stretches, and he stands by the big picture window by the couch and watches as the sun breaks the line of the horizon and brings the new day with it.
It brings something else too: for the first time in his civilian life, Frankie feels something like anticipation. Something like hope.
#tropes and tales#JolapenoAprilShowers#frankie morales#francisco morales#frankie morales x reader#frankie morales imagine#frankie morales x you#francisco morales x you#francisco morales x reader#francisco morales imagine#triple frontier
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addicted ♡ re2r!leon kennedy x reader
nsfw (18+) - minors dni or i will call the cops
word count - 2.9k
description - by the end of the summer, you're bound for college and your boyfriend leon is bound for his shiny new police officer job in raccoon city. knowing your relationship could be threatened by the distance, your need for each other has become insatiable.
tags/warnings - porn with plot, soft dom leon, car sex, cunnilingus (f receiving), fingering, p in v, creampie, breeding kink, mildly angsty, no use of (Y/N)
a/n - this was a request by my beautiful goth puppy wife chaos baby @nexysworld <333 special thanks to @dollfacefantasy for beta reading and believing in me and also being my momager <3
recommended listening - addicted by saving abel
my masterlist ♡
my ao3 ♡
thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ;w; <3
-venus ♡
Young adulthood felt so scary and new and weird.
You and Leon had been dating since high school and now you were fully legal adults, figuring out what to do with your lives and pretending you would both fit together seamlessly in each other’s plans. Just weeks ago he had graduated from the police academy and you had until the end of the summer to spend as much time together as possible before he would move into the city to become an officer, and you would be moving states away to attend college.
You told each other you would visit as often as possible, that you would call every day, that as soon as you finished school you would move back to Raccoon City to be with him, or he would find a hiring police station near you to settle into, and you would live happily ever after.
But there was a silent, knowing melancholy that hung over you all the while, and it intensified every day. Neither of you wanted to address it, for fear of spoiling what little time you had left, so it just hung there unspoken as you clung to each other for dear life.
Leon knocked quietly on your door, hoping not to wake your roommates. It was a crisp, clear summer evening and the forecast indicated a meteor shower would be visible, so as soon as he finished up at work, he took the top off of his Jeep, loaded the back with blankets and made his way to you.
His heart softened at the image of you wrapped in a blanket, ducking out of your apartment to follow him out to the car. It was nearing midnight and you were already in pajamas, but it felt right that way. Comfortable.
Soon enough you were sipping slushies from the gas station, your sneakers kicked up on the dashboard and the wind rushing through your hair as Leon drove the two of you up the base of the Arklay Mountains. There was a little lookout tucked away less than five miles up, one you frequented together practically since you met. This lookout had seen numerous makeouts and unquantifiable hours of conversation, silly and stupid and serious and solemn.
The car slowed to a stop and Leon threw it in park, moving his seat back so he could get comfortable. His lips were stained pink with cherry slush as he looked over to you with a gentle smile.
“Pretty, huh?” He asked, watching as you stared up at the sky, awe-filled eyes searching every gap in the void for a shooting star. His warm, broad hand still rested on your thigh, thumb skimming over the soft fabric of your sweatpants in a gentle caress.
Relaxing into his touch, you nodded, looking over at him now. Your own lips and tongue were tinted blue and what remained of your slushie was cold in the palm of your hand. It was funny, you thought, that you’d driven all the way out here to watch the meteor shower but still, you couldn’t help but watch each other. The breeze blew warm and the radio played lowly.
“You’re pretty,” You replied quietly, playing with his fingers. Even having been together for years, he still managed to make you shy.
Leon let out a soft laugh and shook his head, his other hand coming forward to tip your chin up. “You’re pretty too,” He began, and you were just beginning to blush when he added, “Pretty corny.”
You threw your head back and groaned dramatically, swatting at his chest. “You’re pretty annoying,” You griped, but before you could continue your playful rant, he guided you back toward him and pressed his lips against your own, and just like always, you melted almost instantaneously.
At the start the kiss was quite tender, communicating a sense of longing and connection that you had only ever felt with him. His thumb traced your jaw while his grip tightened on your thigh in an affectionate little squeeze and you felt as though you could sit here with him forever, craning your neck over the center console of his Jeep just to kiss him beneath the stars, just to breathe him in, to be with him. Leon was your safe place and even the thought of being away from him sent you into withdrawals.
Your shaking hand came up to cradle the back of his neck, fingers curling into his golden hair as you took it upon yourself to deepen the kiss, wanting to get as much of him as you could. You wanted to horde him all to yourself, you wanted to sink into him and have him sink into you, to pause time and keep him there until you were sick of each other, though you knew no length of time together would ever feel like enough. Tongue swiping against his lower lip, you flattened your palm over the crotch of his jeans and massaged gently.
“F-Fuck, baby,” Leon grunted into your mouth, feeling all the blood rush to his cock in response to your touch and your languid kisses. “I’m gonna miss this…”
“Don’t,” You whispered, “I don’t wanna talk about it… Just wanna feel you…”
With a short nod of understanding he reconnected your lips, sliding his hand beneath the waistband of your sweatpants to dip a finger into your folds, delighted at the realization that you had gone without panties for the evening. He grinned into the kiss and slipped his tongue past you, the pads of his fingers quickly finding your clit with practiced ease.
Your lashes fluttered and your thighs shifted together, a quiet mewl of pleasure tumbling from you as you bucked up into his hand. With each passing second your heart was beating faster and you could feel the wetness collecting beneath his touch.
“Mm, my pretty baby,” He sighed out, the pad of his thumb flicking at your clit while his middle and index fingers petted at your hole. “Put your seat back. Let me taste you.”
There wasn’t a beat of hesitation as you reached down to recline your seat and push it back, and as you did so, Leon was making quick work of climbing over the center console to join you in the passenger seat. He gripped your thighs and pushed your legs up to rest on the dashboard as he yanked your sweatpants down in one swift motion, wasting no time smothering your plush inner thighs with kisses.
His pupils dilated by the scent of your cunt alone, and while he initially planned on taking his time with you, he just couldn’t help himself. Cramped down on the floor of his own passenger seat, Leon’s fingertips printed into your thighs as he dove forward to kiss and lap at your wetness, drinking you up with a deep, wanton need.
You tensed at the feeling, glittery heat washing over you before you relaxed into his mouth and brought one hand down to tug at his hair, encouraging him further. Your hazy eyes blinked open to look straight up at the sky, the cool night air foreign on your most intimate parts, but not unwelcome. It was quiet out, serene, private, as though you and Leon were the last two people on Earth. A shooting star cast across the sky in a blur, and you quickly realized that your wish was for you and Leon to be the last two people on Earth. Maybe that would be nice. At least your time together wouldn’t be so limited.
Losing Leon felt like losing a limb, even if he was only moving a few hours away to the other side of the mountain. Another shooting star streaked across the night sky, and you barely even noticed you had said something until you already finished speaking, “I wish you could stay… I feel like I can’t breathe without you…”
He hummed into your slick pussy, tongue swirling over your bud before pulling back just far enough to respond, “Not talking about it, baby, remember?”
Your face scrunched up a little bit as you realized your mistake and nodded, returning your focus to the glittering stars above you while your boyfriend sucked and licked at your cunt like he was starving. Soon enough his middle and index fingers were prodding at your hole, tracing the shape of you before sinking deep into your sticky, wet heat, your needy walls sucking him in.
What you didn’t know was that Leon had been focusing so much pleasure on you over the summer because it felt like making up for what he wouldn’t be able to do from thousands of miles away in the fall. You were the only thing he could bring himself to think about since roughly halfway to graduation at the police academy, when he was beginning to pester Raccoon City Police Department with his exemplary test scores and ever-growing resume– by the end of the year you would have both gone so far in separate directions, and long distance wasn’t something you ever excelled at. He knew that the day he left for Raccoon City, he would be effectively nailing the coffin shut.
So he bided his time by fucking you senseless almost daily, eating you out, pinning you down and driving you to tears with your toys, feeling every inch of you beneath his hands just so he wouldn’t forget. Every moan, every mewl, every whimper and sob and plea from you was like music to his ears, like pure heroin directly to the vein. Just like a drug, the better it felt in the moment, the more he knew it would hurt you both later on.
He felt you bucking into his nose and whining quietly, and every twitch of your muscles made his cock throb in his jeans. Leon couldn’t take it anymore, he needed you now.
Pulling back from your core, Leon moved quickly to undo his belt and shove his jeans down his thighs, desperate for some relief from the pressure and intoxicating desire. He was already dribbling precum just from the taste of you, a distinct wet patch growing at the front of his soft blue boxers that soon joined his pants down his legs, and shortly thereafter he was clumsily crawling over you in the passenger seat of his Jeep.
Almost like muscle memory, your arm fell behind you in a blind search for your purse in the back seat. You quickly retrieved it, digging through its contents as Leon’s hands shoved their way up your shirt to paw at your breasts, devouring your throat with kisses, making it a little difficult to maintain your focus. Finally you found what you were looking for, fingers coming into contact with that trusty little box… only to find it empty.
“L-Leon… mm, babe, hey,” You panted in an attempt to gather his attention. He hummed a barely noticeable sound of acknowledgment, but otherwise didn’t budge. You let him continue for a lingering second before breaking the news in a near whisper, “Leon, we’re out of condoms…”
He paused, breaths short and hips rutting into your own with need, his woefully hard cock grinding against your slit. While his body acted on its own in search of any friction he could get, his mind was spinning. He knew you weren’t on birth control and he knew a risk like this could ruin everything you’d both worked so hard for… but for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to care.
In fact, it sort of spurred him on.
He buried his face into your neck again and sucked a harsh, dark mark into your skin, a feeling of possessiveness taking root in him. “Then we’re gonna risk it,” He said definitively, his voice low and almost growling in your ear. “Just think about it, sweetheart… Maybe if you let me knock you up, you can forget all about college… I could just whisk you away to the city with me and take care of you for the rest of our lives…”
A rush of heat struck you like a moving car and knocked the air out of your lungs. You knew it would be stupid to throw away your scholarships and every dream you’d had for yourself on a whim, but it was admittedly a nice fantasy at the very least. Arching into the palm of his hand, you relented.
“F-Fuck, fuck… Fuck me, Leon, please, just fuck me…”
And just as you anticipated, he took you up on that. A cool breeze rushed through the open vehicle as he lined himself up at your hole and drove into you, his vision going white for a second just at the intensity of the pleasure he felt, being engulfed by you again. Your body was heaven on Earth to him, you were heaven on Earth to him.
He sheathed into you down to the hilt with a low groan, one hand clutching your hip and the other tangled in your hair. Leon tugged your head aside by your hair so he could speak directly into your ear, “You’re mine, you hear me? All mine. My girl, my wife, my pretty little baby mama…”
Each declaration was punctuated by a thrust of the hips, his swollen, leaking cock stuffed so deeply inside you that it was almost like you could feel him in your throat. Any and all concerns about your future, individually and as a couple, burned to ash in the far back of your mind as he fucked into with fervor. In this moment, Leon was all that mattered.
You quivered and writhed beneath him, your gummy insides pulsing and clenching around his length, and even with the top off the Jeep, the windows were beginning to accumulate a subtle fog on them. The two of you were hot and slick with sweat, drowning in the heat of each other and the late summer air.
“Leon,” You moaned, nails biting into his shoulders as you clung to him for dear life, for any shred of stability. “Make me yours…”
At this point, you couldn’t even tell if you were serious, and similarly to Leon, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You were drunk on him and everything about him, the warmth of his skin, the pheromones that clung to his sweat, the strong grip of his hands and the sound of his breaths and the feeling of him railing into you like you were made for each other.
“Plannin’ on it, baby,” He said in response, words breathy and a smug grin tugging at his lips. He let go of your hair to plant his hand against the window as he increased his pace, plunging into you with ardor, his balls heavy and aching for release. “Gonna keep you all to myself, give you everything you ever wanted.”
The hand of his that was holding your hip just a moment ago was now wedging itself down between you to rub steady circles into your clit. You jolted at the contact, an incoherent cry tumbling from you, molten heat pooling up in your stomach. His earlier ministrations left both him and you especially sensitive and nearing your climaxes.
He could feel your peak approaching through the way you were convulsing around him, your wet cunt tightening and pulling him deeper with each stroke until he couldn’t even think anymore. Every last one of his senses was clouded– no, drenched with you. His pace stuttered just a little bit as he decided he couldn’t possibly hold back any longer.
With a loud, pleasured groan of your name, Leon stilled inside you as a torrent of cum flooded your waiting womb, warming you from the inside. What finally pushed you over the edge into your own release was Leon’s sly fingers tugging and pinching at your bud with expertise.
“G-God, fuck,” You sobbed, breaking skin as your nails raked down his strong back and gripped him as close to you as you could manage. Tears were pricking at your eyes as you coated his cock with your release, leaving behind a creamy white ring of arousal at the base of his softening sex.
Silence fell over the car as you clung to each other, broken only by your gasping breaths for oxygen. Leon buried his face into your shoulder and kissed the sizable hickie he’d left you earlier, still fresh and stinging.
“Did so good for me,” He huffed into your ear, nibbling at your lobe. “I can’t get enough of you.”
Eventually he pulled out, a sticky mixture of your juices dribbling out of your spent hole and down to the leather seat below you. As Leon climbed less than gracefully out of the passenger seat with his pants around his knees, you were both startled by the unexpected sight of headlights traveling up the very same mountain road that led you here, and the vehicle was pulling into the lookout.
“Shit,” Leon grumbled, rushing to fix his pants and toss you a blanket from the back seat to cover up with, given your sweatpants were lost somewhere on the floor of the car.
The intruding vehicle pulled up right behind Leon’s Jeep, headlights shining into the cabin as a person got out of the driver’s side… with a flashlight. Of course it had to be a cop.
Leon took a deep breath before rolling his window down with a polite smile. “Evening, officer… Nice night, isn’t it?”
#venustext#sintext#summit of beauty and love#resident evil#leon kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy x you#nexy !!!
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Comfort I Joel Miller x F!Reader



Summary: It is summer in Austin and you long for an uneventful day with Joel. Your diabetes has other plans.
Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader Rating: Non-Explicit / MDNI Word count: 2.6k Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort , Fluff, Diabetes, Health Issues, Diabetic Reader, (reader wears a dexcom and uses insulin pens), Guilt, Soft Joel Miller, Hypoglycemia, Forehead Kisses, Comfort
AO3 LINK // Masterlist
notes: a huge, huge thank you to the wonderful @Rainybee17 for allowing me to learn more about diabetes and patiently answering all my questions. i have tried my best to make this oneshot a good representation and even though everyone's experience is different, i hope that someone can find themselves between these lines. smooches and happy sunday! ♡
this fic is not medical advice. if you or someone else is struggling with diabetes or if you'd like to learn more please visit the international diabetes federation or speak to your doctor.

Comfort
True to the weather forecast that you watched on TV with Joel last night, the temperatures in Austin have shot up overnight. The sun has barely risen, only a few thin streaks of light falling through the blinds that cover the window of your bedroom. Which is Joel's bedroom, really. But during the summer, it has evolved into something that feels more like yours rather than his.
You blink groggily, feeling the mattress dip beside you as Joel reaches over to shut his alarm clock off, the beeping noise that woke you dying down the moment his hand touches the button. A small noise leaves your throat in protest, your left leg still tangled between his and Joel turns back to face you. “Not today, darlin’. I gotta start goin’.”
Some days, your pouting works, keeping him in bed for a few minutes longer. But he takes his jobs seriously and you don’t blame him for wanting the heavy lifting done before the temperatures peak around lunchtime.
Joel’s beard scratches against your skin as he leans over to press a kiss to your face before he begins to carefully disentangle himself from you. His arm slides out from below you, his embrace that you were so peacefully resting in until a moment ago gone. He makes sure not to brush over the dexcom that is currently attached to your upper left arm, the white device peeking out from below the sheets. You can see him pause at the sight, his gears already turning. “Why don’t you get up too? Think I’ve got enough time to have a coffee.”
“Fine,” you groan, only reluctantly agreeing to his peace offer. It's not as good as staying in bed with him but you can always take a nap later and enjoy his presence while you have it. You peel the sheets off your body, padding over to the bathroom while you listen to Joel pull on jeans and a shirt that already has so many holes in it you don't bother to count them anymore.
You’ve settled into a comfortable routine during the summer months, even with him leaving early and coming home late. With Sarah at football camp, you have the house all to yourself, a luxury you enjoy more than you’d like to admit. You’ve spent countless days lounging in the backyard or swimming a few laps around the pool, occasionally preparing a fancy dinner for Joel or making yourself useful in any other way. He drinks coffee by his kitchen window every morning, unless he’s running late. Today, you join him, hopping up onto the counter as the sun steadily rises and the first cars are started up outside, bringing people to work.
You remind him to give you a kiss every day, despite knowing that he’d never forget. No matter if you’re in the kitchen with him or still in bed or already nose-deep in a book. Without fail, Joel Miller finds you before he leaves.
“We’re finally getting that delivery today,” Joel hums, swirling the last sips of his coffee around in his mug. “If the load ‘s good, I could get off early.”
“That would be nice,” you agree softly, rubbing the last bit of sleep out of the corners of your eyes. “Think I’ll take a dip in the pool later.”
“Then I better be home to see that,” Joel teases as he turns his back to you, washing his mug out in the sink. Then, he leans over to kiss you again and it only makes you long for him more. You’re certain he feels the same.
“You check your levels?” He hums into your neck and oh, he’s gotten smart, asking when he knows you won’t push him away.
“All good,” you reassure him. Some days, you think he is more occupied with your condition than you are, fussing over you and reminding you to track your sugar and insulin constantly. It’s gotten annoying occasionally, but you know he only does it because he cares. And if you’re being honest with yourself, that is a big part of why he has become your favorite person rather quickly.
You watch as Joel grabs his tool belt and heads out the door, giving you one little last wave. Then, you listen to the truck start up outside and the sound of the engine that slowly fades away into the distance.
“Fine,” you mutter to yourself, jumping off the kitchen counter to reach for your phone. You prefer tracking with the dexcom sensor, the device making it so easy to check your levels at all times. Today, you’re in the clear. The number inside the small circle in the app reads 110.
The blue insulin pen is waiting for you beside the fridge, placed on a small wooden tray that conveniently showed up there the first time you slept over. It holds a few small juice boxes, glucose tablets and your trusted pen.
You stare at it for a few moments, weighing it in your hands as you calculate how much you’ll need for your breakfast. Then, with practiced ease, you poke yourself with the needle, allowing the chosen amount of liquid to flow into your body.
“Ten minute warning…” You hum, putting the pen back into its place and reaching for the kitchen shelf instead. You’ve gotten much better at timing your breakfast properly, making sure that the insulin doesn’t act too fast nor too slow.
Once you’re done eating, you check the number again. 160. All fine, just like you promised Joel. Good.
It’s still early but you don’t feel like going back to bed. Thursday means the farmer’s market is happening at the local community center and for once you may be early enough to have the first pick. The fresh fruits and vegetables have a tendency to bring mouth-watering recipe ideas for dinner to your mind so you lock the front door behind you and head out.
Indeed, the stands are not yet picked over and you take your time, enjoying the nice weather and chatting with a few familiar faces. The short trip turns into a few hours and it’s only when the heat starts to press down on you below the plastic tents that you make your way back. The groceries are unloaded rather quickly and you fetch your current read, a book about a spontaneous summer love in Italy, from upstairs.
It’s been exactly the kind of uneventful day you enjoy in the summer, the one that leaves you feeling warm and tanned and thankful for pools and cool drinks. The way it should be. You have no idea that this is about to change.
The deck at the back of the Miller’s house is shaded so that you don’t feel like you’ll immediately burn up in the sun. A soft groan of relief escapes you as you stretch out on the lounge chair, opening your book to where you left off. You read about cicadas and pine trees and steady waves rolling ashore and slowly but surely, your eyes begin to droop.
***
Something is wrong. The sun is much lower than it was a few minutes ago. The front door opens and closes. Joel can’t be back yet. It’s still lunchtime.
For a moment, you think you are just too sleepy, that you are still in some kind of dream. Then, you think you’ve spent too much time in the sun. It takes a few seconds for you to realize that the way you’re feeling, a bit hazy, a bit like you’re floating– it’s low sugar.
You blindly reach to your right, onto the wooden table beside you but your phone isn’t in reach. When you turn your head, you realize why. You never brought it outside. It’s still on the kitchen counter, where you left it after unloading the groceries.
Slowly, you stand, looking down to see that your legs are trembling slightly. You force them to take one step after another, coaxing your body in an attempt to stay upright. You can already hear the soft beeping noise from inside the house that alerts you to a number outside the safe range. You push past the screen door– but before you can reach the kitchen, and with it your phone, Joel reaches you.
His eyes are wide, the panic clear on his face as he holds your phone in his right hand, the alert on the display blinking in a steady rhythm, displaying a too low 63. “Did you eat?” He presses out, his free hand coming up to rest on your shoulder, steadying you. The worry in his voice is palpable and you shake your head at his question.
“Okay, okay–” The gears are turning in his head and you’re not sure if he’s talking to you or himself. “Okay. We need– Do you need me to get the emergency pen?”
“No,” you quickly decline. “No, it’s okay, it’s not that bad.”
You can see him weighing his options, his eyes raking over your face and your body for a moment, no doubt trying to assess your state. You know you’re shaking and that your face likely looks drained, a thin sheen of sweat covering it. His gaze turns to the kitchen next and you can see him fight with himself. Ultimately, Joel steps forward, wrapping an arm around you and leading you into the living room, his grasp not leaving you until you’re securely seated on the couch. “Can’t have you passing out now. Don’t try and stand, alright? Just … sit tight.”
He puts your phone down and rushes to the kitchen, leaving you alone with the low number on the display that almost seems to laugh at you. What were you thinking, dozing off like that?
Joel is back after mere seconds, holding up a juice box in one hand and the package of glucose tablets in the other, silently letting you choose. You point at the juice and he nods, kneeling in front of you and sticking the thin plastic straw into the pre-punched hole. “One apple juice, coming right up.” You can tell he’s trying to lighten the mood but you can’t bring yourself to give him more than a weak smile in return.
He nudges the box into your hands and then sits patiently as you begin to drink, one of his hands coming to rest on your thigh, his thumb drawing lazy circles into your skin. “15 – 15 rule, right?” Joel asks and at the look of surprise on your face, he adds; “15 grams of carbs, wait for 15 minutes. Then see if it helped?”
“Yeah,” you agree in between small sips. “Yeah, how do you know about 15 – 15?” You watch as a faint blush spreads over his cheeks but he shakes his head, dismissing the question.
“Just do. It doesn’t matter.” His motions on your leg pause as you finish your juice, allowing him to take the empty carton from you and place it on the floor behind him. “You feelin’ any better, darlin’?” You can tell by his voice that he is still anxious, his entire attention zoned in on you. You lean back into the cushions, taking a deep breath, slowly calming down. You’ve been there before, you’ve gone into low numbers. But it never gets less scary.
“It’s fine,” you reassure him because you can still feel his gaze on you. “Not like this hasn’t happened before.” The dry comment is aimed to brush him off but it seems to do the opposite.
“No. I mean, yes, but it shouldn't be happening at all,” Joel shakes his head and ow. You know you messed up but hearing it from him stings more than you thought it would.
“You try tracking every meal every day and living with this– this–” You can feel you working yourself up, anger bubbling inside you, anger more than happy to find an outlet. But then your eyes fall onto Joel's face. And you see the moment his eyes widen in sheer panic.
“No, no, god no, that is not what I meant–” He stumbles over his words in an attempt to get them out. “I wasn't blaming you, I was saying that– that it's not fair. I just hate to see you suffer, that's all.” His brown eyes remind you so much of a kicked puppy that you almost want to cry.
A soft hoot from your phone makes you both turn your heads, the number 107 popping up. Back in range. Joel sighs in relief.
“Good. This is good.” He stretches slightly, one hand pressed against his lower back. “You want a nap?”
“Just had one,” you say quietly, avoiding his eyes.
“Right,” he hums, pinching the bridge of his nose for a few moments and you know he’s thinking again, trying to figure out what to do with you. Because of course you have to make a lovely summer’s day so difficult.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, trying and failing to keep the tears at bay. “I didn’t mean to ruin your evening, I know you had work–”
He cuts you off by squeezing your thigh once, shaking his head as he maneuvers himself onto the couch beside you. “Look at me, baby,” he coaxes you to shift towards him, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “I never ever want to hear you apologizing for this again. It ain’t your fault, darlin’. Never was and never will be. And I’ve told you before, we’re in this together. You don’t have to carry it all by yourself.”
A single tear rolls down your cheek and he catches it with his thumb, tutting quietly. His arms find their way around you and he pulls you into his chest, burying his nose in your hair, whispering sweet nothings into the otherwise silent room.
“How ‘bout we watch one of them movies you like so much?” Joel offers when he pulls back after a few minutes, his hand still intertwined with yours. You have movie night more often than not, but usually, he doesn’t let you pick. Nor you him. It's a middle ground, one that is found after quite a bit of discussion.
“You hate them,” you argue weakly, a small laughter slipping out. You’ve tried introducing Joel to Rom-Coms, the classics, the modern ones, those that he may not at first glance recognize as such. But so far, you haven’t hit his taste.
“Not today,” he hums with a small smile. “Today I promise I’ll love them.” You both chuckle quietly and he does let you pick, not once complaining as he kneels in front of the TV to start the movie. He keeps a watchful eye on you throughout the next roughly 90 minutes, getting you a glass of water and another snack when you need it, his arm comfortably wrapped around your shoulder like he’s not quite willing to let go.
“How did you know?” You ask into the near-silence when the credits are flickering over the screen, some love song quietly playing over them. “About the rule I mean.”
“Uh, let’s see–” Joel makes a face. “Might’ve read a book or two.”
You squeeze him a bit tighter at that. Because you know that people who see Joel in his truck or at the construction site may think he’s gruff and cold. You had similar worries when your eyes first landed on him. But you know how much he cares. About Sarah and about you, about being there in whatever way he can. No matter if it’s stocking up on juice or kissing you every morning or secretly reading books so he can understand you better. He’s here for it all. And so are you. Together.

Notes: thank you so much for reading! if you enjoyed, please feel free to leave a comment or a follow ♡
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